Oh Internet Shoe Gods, Why Do You Mock Me?

Melodramatic? Perhaps... But acknowledging that does nothing to decrease my irritation at the email I found waiting for me when I arrived back at my humble abode late last night.

Sorry for any inconvenience but I can't locate this item. It was either lost or listed twice I'm not sure. For that reason I am refunding your payment. I am very sorry for this inconvenience.

This would, in fact, refer to the Naughty Monkey boots that I had been coveting for several months and finally decided to purchase on Sunday, as the cost of the boots was less than the total cost of the other shoes I had returned.

Now, a normal person would consider this to be a sign from the Powers That Be that maybe, just maybe, she already owns enough boots and doesn't need to purchase any more.

Not me.

I'm wondering if it's significant that I dreamt about buying red Uggs the other night, even though I find them to be generally distasteful.

Is there a 12-step program for this?


* * * *

So in a fit of... something... last night, I went and joined Twenty-Something Bloggers because, really, one can never have too many methods of procrastination or wasting time at work. So if I haven't tracked you down already, go ahead and look me up! I need a large friend-list in order to validate my self-worth.

No, wait, that's Myspace. Damnit.

[begin tangent]

Speaking of online networking sites, this morning I was once again struck with the inexplicable urge to internet stalk my 8th grade boyfriend. That is, if he hadn't vanished entirely from the face of the earth. I wish I knew what it was that makes him invade my brain like this every few months. It's starting to irritate me.

[end tangent]

So thanks to 20sb and the lovely "Recommendations" section of Google Reader, several new blogs have found their way onto the blogroll. Check them out! Actually, there are several whose names I see mentioned quite frequently, but had never quite gotten around to investigating, silly me!

Right-o. Back to pretending to work. Happy Tuesday y'all!

Reflection, Obsession, and all that falls between.

Ignorance, indeed, is bliss.

Also I appear to be developing a nasty of habit of beginning my posts with cliches. I will have to work on that.

At any rate, I know I have been fairly MIA since I returned to the country, but the main reason for that is... this semester? Is going to kick my ass. Hard.

Hence the nostalgic thoughts of ignorance... specifically my ignorance at the beginning of last semester when I found myself thinking "you know, Grad School is shaping up to be much less work than I thought it would be... I am totally going to breeze through this semester..." Ha! Little did I know the various and sundry shitstorms waiting for me just around the corner, and thus I entered into this endeavor in a blissful state of ignorance.

This semester, however, I am painfully aware of just how much work I have to do, and how limited the time in which I have to do it. And I am perhaps just a little bit anxious on that count.

First of all, there is the reading. LOTS of reading. Not that this comes as a surprise to anyone else who has trod this path, but this semester's reading load is perhaps triple that of last semester. This, in and of itself, worries me.

In addition to the the reading load, at least one of my classes requires a generous amount of time spent working--in groups!! of 8 people!!! scheduling NIGHTMARE!!!!--outside of class. I am taking yet another weekend-absorbing class leaving me with virtually no free time until the beginning of March. I also am required to see four shows this semester, two each for two different classes, and unless I can find a show that encompasses both physical theatre and queer theatre, I'm not seeing much chance of an overlap.

And finally there is my inability to give up the search for the perfect pair of boots that clearly do not exist. At least, not within my price range.

What's that you say? What does my compulsive need to buy shoes have to do with being screwed by my workload this semseter?

Oh, plenty.

For one, shoe shopping is time-consuming. Particuarly when you feel compelled to set foot in every single Payless shoe store in Manhattan, convinced that one of them has to have the blue suede ankle boots that you foolishly did not buy in Pennsylvania back in December in your size.

Thus were 2 1/2 hours that could have been spent reading "Theatre of the Oppressed," spent on a fruitless search for grey suede ankle boots (and top-fold, spiral-bound, college ruled notebooks... but that's a whole other kettle of fish), not to mention at least another hour online once I returned home.

Clearly, this behavior has got to stop.

Therefore, I feel perfectly justified in purchasing these...



And these...



And, um, okay... these and these



I can only hope that now both my boot and suede fixations have been satiated, and I am able to buckle down and get some work done.

Provided, of course, that everything fits.

Batten down the hatches kiddos, it's gonna be a looooong semester!