"Hurricane Gloria didn't break the porch swing--Monica did!"

We've already discussed how Matt is the big reader in our home, and how I'm functionally illiterate. Not only am I a distracted reader, but I am really slow, too. My tortoise-like style would be annoying anyway, but it's super annoying given that I married Matt: America's Brainy Speed Reader.

I always knew that Matt was a much faster reader than me, but I didn't see it in action until we began watching Jeopardy! religiously. When a clue comes up, I am not finished reading the first line of it when Matt is shouting out an answer. I don't stand a chance--unless the category is one of the following: the Bible (a guess one good thing came from Baptist school), Olympic cities, and art. Matt doesn't know anything about art. I think it's because he's colorblind.

He's more into books, anyway.

A week or so ago, Matt bought a slew of books from Barnes and Noble, one of which was Chuck Klosterman's Eating the Dinosaur.

Now, I can't really provide you a critique of the book, because I haven't read it. I might, you know, if I grow an attention span, tire of everything else I love, and become a bed-ridden insomniac. So, unless this perfect storm should arise, chances are I won't be reading the book. But I like the idea of reading the book. And I bet it's really good. Matt's been laughing really loudly while he's been reading it.

Chuck Klosterman's academic and insightful approach to pop culture is super fun to read (I've read parts.). In this book, he has a passage about one of my favorites, Friends. (That, since it was only a few pages, I did manage to read in its entirety.)

Here's a quick excerpt:

"Like almost all successful TV ensembles, the plots on Friends weren't a fraction as important as the characters and who played them--especially as the seasons wore on, the humor came from our familiarity with these characters' archetypes. People who liked Friends literally liked the friends. Audiences watched the show because they felt like they had a relationship with the cast."

Hmmmmmm. And what episode does he reference? "The One Where Old Yeller Dies"! (The one I referenced yesterday.) Basically, I am Chuck Klosterman. Except for, of course, the vast intellect and the coolness and the red hair and the beard.

For the record, though, Ross is my favorite friend.

Who's yours?

FAJITAS!

. . .and the insides are filled with my blood!

Back to school = major readjustment period.


It means having to go to bed early. It means having to wake up early. It means seeing Matt less. It means listening to ninth graders chattering for hours a day. These readjustments can be painful for me. The most painful one, though, is getting used to wearing shoes again.


I bought these shoes at the beginning of the summer, and I hadn't really had a chance to wear them until today. Aren't they cute?


Tiny little heel. . .

Pretty bow, rounded toe, nice details.

I wore them for the first time today, partly to provide some relief from yesterday's hours of walking around in heels. Plus, I knew that I'd be spending a chunk of my day today hauling textbooks across the school, so I thought the flats would be more practical than my other footwear choices.

I was wrong.

What I didn't realize (because Nine West must have forgotten to add this to the description) is that as soon as my foot would enter the shoe, the shoe would contract, and tiny razor blades would emerge. I believe that these shoes were actually intended for the prisoners at Gitmo, although forcing prisoners to wear them is likely a violation of the Geneva Conventions.

I walked about two miles in these shoes of death today, applied many a bandaid to my raw heel, and suffered several broken toes from trying to favor the heel.

I couldn't help but to think of my friend Monica and the time she bought an overpriced pair of boots.

Monica: The guy who made these hates feet and wants to see them die!
Rachel: Well-well you can give them to me! I haven’t felt my feet in years!
Monica: I can’t! I spent so much money on them and I told Chandler that I’d wear them all the time, I just can’t give them away!
Phoebe: Well then get your money back and return them!
Monica: I can’t do that either! The soles are already a little scuffed up and the insides are filled with my blood!