fashion dailymotion

Sometimes I open up closets or drawers and see something I no longer use. Usually because it didn't work, I couldn't return it, or I just didn't have the heart to throw it away or donate it. Because it cost money and I felt bad that I wasted that money.

I don't know what I'm waiting for because it's doubtful the item is going to miraculously start working or my body is going to spontaneously revert back to a Size 2. (Is it, God? Because I'll wait if that's in my future. TIA.)

I'm convinced everyone has one or two of these purchasing disasters sitting in their home.

My main disaster is a wireless mouse. Granted, I bought it off EBay and it was very cheap, $6.25, and I should have known better. But at the time I could no longer function with a mouse CORD. Oh my God, the problems I have.

From the moment it arrived there was trouble. It came with a USB 2.0 port and it was rumored to be inside the actual mouse. I was never good at Hide and Seek but seriously, INSIDE the mouse? Do you want me to kill myself?

So I entered into an email exchange with the sellers of this item, NOT pictured below. (That one is by Logitech and looks hale and hearty and blue! Mine is a CPI, which probably stands for CAN'T POSSIBLY iWORK and is cheap, black, and made out of Chinese plastic.) Our emails were like the Hunt for Red October, wherein the USB port is the submarine and I'm Jack Ryan. The poor guy on the other end of our correspondence, if you can call begging a type of correspondence, must have thought I was born without a brain. If there's a Nobel in Patience, I nominate that guy.


Then I finally found it, set it up and it didn't work. It has never worked. So Mr. Mouse sits in a drawer making me feel bad. And yes I know no one can make you feel bad and that you do that by yourself but IT MAKES ME FEEL BAD.

What's your shopping disaster?

The first time implies there were other times. There were, which is one of 10 reasons I probably should revisit therapy. My looks, makeup, and clothes don't scream hooker. At least not to me. Apparently others disagree.

I used to have a large shoe collection. Not a Sarah Jessica Parker Shoe Collection but a significant enough one for someone who doesn't have a job. I had a big closet in my old apartment and the shoes and boots filled up both sides. I wouldn't go so far as to say that shoes were my life, because then my bags would feel left out, but shoes were a big part of it.

These are from my old apartment. I didn't get all of them in the shot because some wanted to remain anonymous. See the little red bottle in the middle shelf of the big shoe holder on the right? I kept the requisite shoe maintenance equipment with them at all times, in case of emergency. You never know when two shoes could break out in fisticuffs. And then where's that emergency repair kit? Exactly.

But then tragedy struck and I needed ankle surgery. I know; tragedy is usually not defined as anything that compromises your Loehmann's shopping trips but it was a tragedy to me. I suddenly was unable to hike. I could barely walk. There was something very wrong with my right foot. The doctor calmly informed me my right ankle had lost all its cartilage.

I said, "WHAT?" also.

He asked me how I did it, as if he expected me to reply I'd purposefully banged the heel of my right foot on a manhole cover over and over for 20 years. You know, like you do when you're in love. Or incarcerated with no chance of parole.

So he rebuilt my right heel and gave me an arch I didn't ask for. He gave me one anyway, even though my other foot didn't have one. Don't tell me I should have had a second opinion; he was my fourth opinion.

I find it interesting that my doctor didn't want to be photographed. This is what I looked like after the surgery. I couldn't walk for four months and yes, that was my scooter. FOR FOUR MONTHS.


Once I started walking again, my shoes became my enemy. I gave most of them away. I held shoe giveaways on this blog and cried at the post office while standing in line with my carefully wrapped packages. I'm sure most of them arrived waterlogged.

No more spiky heels, no more 5 inch boots. I eventually stopped looking for shoes. Stopped shopping in general. It was too depressing to find a great dress only to realize I'd have to look for amazing shoes and probably wouldn't find any that were easy to walk in and didn't hurt.

And then I discovered the Orthaheel.



The Fitflop from Sole Provisions had the orthaheel and comes in a ton of pretty summer color combos. See that built-in arch? I didn't NEED to have one installed in my foot - at a cost of $12,000 - had I discovered this shoe first. It's like walking on air.



And these I love love love. They remind me of the colors you'd see on an African Safari. Even though I've never been on an African Safari, the dark green and sand combo reminds me of one anyway. I might be thinking of Miami, though.

Dear women of America: You will sadly discover that as you age, (which I'm not, by the way) that neither your knees nor your ankles will support high heels anymore. Because bearing children and going through menopause isn't enough, apparently.



This was a sponsored post by the lovely people at Sole Provisions. All the above shoes can be found on their website plus many, many more. Go. Look. Buy.

The winner of the Kindle copy of my book, Celebrity sTalker is Terri! I've spent all weekend trying to load the Random Picker Thingy graphic but when I do, then BLOGGER won't let me type in the Typing Box Thingy. There were 10 names eligible for the drawing. Everyone else had already bought the book or read it and one person entered two comments. So I entered 10 names starting with 1 and the Random Picker Thingy chose number 5. Congratulations Terri! Go to hell, Blogger!

Are you one of the people who haven't read my book because you'd rather feed your kids and get pedicures? I'M ON TEAM FEED THE KIDS AND GET PEDICURES! So here's your chance to read it. For Free. I'm giving away a Kindle copy! Because next to Mother Teresa, I'm a giver. (maybe in another lifetime.)

Sidebar: You don't have to own a Kindle to read on a Kindle. You can download Kindle's free app to your computer, tablet, or phone. I'm not being sponsored by Kindle to say this. (I wish I was because I could use the money.) Go to the above link and down on the right sidebar you'll find an option to download the free app.

All you have to do to win my book is leave a comment and I'll pick a winner by July 15. Leave as many comments as you want. Try to leave them in English. No one likes a smart-ass.

Since she arrived at my apartment two weeks ago, these are some of the arguments my mom and I have had:


1. Whether orange bougainvillea was in fact orange bougainvillea.

2. Why the 8 ounces of water I make her drink twice a day with her medication is in a glass so big she’s never seen a glass that big ever in her entire life am I trying to drown her.

3. How sponges work.

4. The fruit flies in my kitchen should pay rent there are so many of them.

5. Who shut down the online Mah-jongg game when they should have checked with her first to see if she was done playing.

6. The guy who parks next to me is probably glad I had my car washed.

7. Why did it take me so long to get my car washed.

8. We need to stop eating tilapia.

9. Why I eat in front of my computer and will probably die there.

10. That the people on So You Think You Can Dance really can’t dance if you call that dancing.

11. Why don’t I hang up paintings over the couch only hobos live like that.

12. Whether the woman at Bank of America wrote down her password and will try to get into her account because she looks shifty and is Russian and mom is part Russian and knows shifty when she sees it.

13. Why am I forcing her to go to the LaBrea Tar Pits when everybody but me knows she hates fossils.

14. Who moved her coffee cup.

15. Who moved her dish.

16. Who moved her glass.

17. Who moved my coffee cup.

18. Who moved my dish.

19. Who moved my glass.

20. Who drank all the wine.

(21.) me