oh my god, shoes

I'm not exactly a shoe fanatic. I get the appeal of shoes, and maybe if I had enough income to warrant blowing a large chunk of it on footwear I'd have a closet full. Maybe. As of now not only would I much rather spend my extra cash on other things, but I don't have the necessary closet space to fill with rarely-worn shoes.

I used to have a compulsion to collect things. Not so much shoes (although I did have a pretty good collection of chunky-heeled boots and dress shoes back when I was in Chicago) but just... stuff. Toys that reminded me of my childhood but that I never played with, random kitchen gadgets I rarely used, more stuff to tack onto my walls than I had wall space for, movies I rarely watched... I can't even begin to estimate how much money I've wasted over the years on junk I didn't really use or even enjoy. I think I really just bought most of that stuff to make myself feel good about being able to spend the money.

These days I'm embracing a much more pragmatic approach when it comes to acquiring stuff. When I need it, I'll get it. If I find myself unable to find appropriate footwear in my closet for a certain event I'll go buy some. Until then, there's no need. Thus why I basically only wear three pairs of shoes on a regular basis.

My work shoes

They're red. They're cheap. They're ugly. But they feel like a cushy pair of house slippers. They're as close to the feeling of walking barefoot as I can get at work.

My walking shoes

Actually, they're running shoes. But I walk in them. I've put my hardcore marathon training on temporary hold, but it really is important to have the proper footwear for fitness purposes. If your feet aren't happy, you're fucked.

My black patent leather Docs

Black. Patent. Leather. Doc. Martens.

I can't imagine I have to explain why they're awesome.

Anyway, It took me a long time to understand that it's more satisfying to have the ability to buy things I really need/want because I didn't blow all my cash on frivolous junk I thought I wanted at the moment. I tried it the other way for a long time and it's infinitely frustrating to realize that all the things you accumulated in fits of pointless retail therapy don't compensate for the fact that something you suddenly need or really, really legitimately want is out of your financial reach as a result.

It's sad that it's taken me until the age of 34 to figure this out, but one of the biggest keys to happiness in life is setting your priorities and figuring out what it is you really, really want most. It's also taken me until the age of 34 to realize that the answer to that question isn't as obvious as it seems it should be.

I'm still trying to sort out what it is I want most. But when I finally figure it out...

"I'm going to get what I want!"

Anybody wanna let me borrow their credit card?

My gadget wish list:

1. A Blackberry or iPhone or something similar.
I'm on the internet all the time. My life practically depends on it. And while I've got my phone all set up with unlimited internet and such, logging on to a website from my phone is like using a 10-year-old computer on a dial-up connection. It works, but it's not exactly convenient. To really be productive and organized, what I need is the ability to handle emails, keep track of a schedule, make to-do lists, keep lengthy notes, and look things up on the internet from wherever I am, without it taking five minutes for a page to load, even without pictures. Being able to log onto the NIN forums and twitter 24/7 is just a perk.

2. A new iPod.
I recently had a financial freakout, and in a scramble to get emergency cash together I ended up having pretty much no choice but to sell off several non-necessity gadgets, the most missed of which was my 30GB iPod. I don't mind admitting that I cried over its loss.

3. A new computer.
I don't need anything huge and cool and powerful, but I'm currently running my store's music and a few other necessary in-store computing needs on a 10-year-old Hewlett Packard that has, well, seen better days. Running any other program on it while iTunes is playing causes the songs to skip. It's annoying.

4. A bar code scanning system.
What I wouldn't give for the ability to just scan items at my store to ring them up and have a computer track the sales for me. That would be heaven. Of course, that would probably need to come with another new computer and a flat touch-screen monitor, too.

5. An embroidery machine.
*drools*

Anybody wanna let me borrow their credit card?

I have heard that Nad's makes a tasty snack spread on some wheat toast.

As tempted as I sometimes am to purchase things from the likes of Vince -- whose nuts I'm sure I would love -- I always wait until the items show up on the shelves of Walgreens before taking the plunge. I've certainly spent enough wee hours of the morning enduring endless infomercials simply because there was nothing else on TV at the time. To be honest, those Magic Bullets look amazing.

My guess is that they fall apart after two omelets.

But I digress.

I did once invest in some Nad's. I saw it at Walgreen's and thought, "Hey, not having to deal with leg hair more than once a month would be awesome!" So I bought some. Sure, it works. The only problem is that I forgot something about myself as I was lost in my "as seen on TV" euphoria. (Brace yourself for some TMI...) I don't bare my legs. They're white as the driven snow, and do not respond positively to sunlight. Thus, I already don't worry about my leg hair more than once a month. Total waste of money.

I never tested the theory, but I have heard that Nad's makes a tasty snack spread on some wheat toast.

I also own a Spin Spa. Given that I usually only have five or ten minutes for my entire shower routine, I haven't often taken the time to prepare the pumice attachment and exfoliate my feet, or put soap in the scrubbie attachment to exfoliate elsewhere. But I knock it off it's little hook almost every day. I guess that's how it reminds me that it's there.

Remember those storage bags you could put your clothes in, zip shut, and squeeze the air out of to compress and vacuum-seal your belongings? Yep, got those, too. I saw that at some point they made a variety that you actually hooked your vacuum up to, and I hope they worked better that way, because to matter how hard I tried to emulate the simple "press and roll" method of getting the air out of the enormous ziploc baggie, it never quite got things squished down to nothing the way they did in the commercials. Smaller, sure. Not microscopically thin. And if you can't make a wool sweater flatten to a thickness less than 1/4", what's the point?

Those suction hooks where you just flip the hinged hook part down and they're magically stuck in place? Got 'em.

And those magic closet organizers that hold a metric crap ton of hangers on little hinged plastic arms? Got those, too.

The hooks work great. The closet thingies less so.

However, despite the lackluster track record of infomercial products, I'd still be absolutely willing to shell out however much it costs to get one of those Tassimo coffee machines. Those look like heaven.

Gay stuff

So, I guess the theme of this particular blog is "the gay." It's not even like I set out to have any real agenda to write about, but this week has left me with almost nothing to say that doesn't have anything to do with the whole gay thing.

First off, Sunday lunch. I can't say my family, parents in particular, have been great at embracing the truth or anything. Granted, I feel lucky most of the time. Being a preacher's kid, my coming out could have been uber traumatic. But Kourt is welcome and expected at family events and such, even if there's always an undercurrent of discomfort with the whole thing. Sunday, though, was the first time I think I'd ever felt just downright insulted. We went to Hong Kong Inn for Chinese and at the end of our meal a group of people sat down at the table next to us. Turns out they were people we'd gone to church with many moons ago. So Mom starts introducing, pointing out who is who since the last time they saw me I was in elementary school. And first off I can't help but notice that she says I'm a server at the OG. Server? Um, haven't done that in months, thanks. I'm a bartender. But hell if Mom would admit in front of fellow church-going folk that her daughter sells alcohol for a living. Then she goes on to totally ignore Kourtnie. As in pretending she's not standing there at all. No mention. As if she couldn't have referred to her as my "friend" or something equally ambiguous. Nope, Kourt just didn't exist at all. So, I'm an embarrasment on two counts, the family member she glosses over now, and Kourtnie becomes invisible in public. Ain't acceptance grand?

So, moving on. Last night after attending the Pornography Debate between Susan Cole and Ron Jeremy at MSU last night, Kourt and I went to see Brokeback Mountain. Wow. I'm not sure what else to say about it besides that. So well done, and I can't imagine anyone sitting through the whole thing and not being moved by it. I've heard there have been walkouts fairly early in the film, and that pisses me off. But, living in the Bible Belt, it totally doesn't surprise me. What surprises me is that these people went to see the film in the first place, since it's highly unlikely they didn't know what it was about upfront. It was sad that we were two of about six people in the theater total, but again it doesn't surprise me. I'm just glad we got to see it before the theater rushes to get rid of it.

And lastly, just a shout out to JCPenney. Kourtnie and I went today to get wraps for our engagement rings. We're not having a ceremony yet, but we'll be domestic partners fairly soon and, well, we just want the damn rings already. We bought the solitaires at JCPenney because, well, every other jewelry store we went to didn't seem overly enthusiastic about selling rings to a couple of lesbians, especially if we weren't going to spring for gaudy, horrible looking, extremely expensive rings. So we ended up at JCPenney and got excellent and very helpful service without even a flinch at the idea of engagement rings for a lesbian couple. Same thing today, different saleswoman. Excellent service, no high pressure push or weird uncomfortable vibe.

So, in summary, my point I guess is... um... My mom sucks, go see Brokeback Mountain, and shop at JCPenney. Thank you.