CH-CH-CH-CHANGES

Everything has changed. We live in a new house across from a dust farm (the dust farmer is cute and young, but super argumentative and spreads his fucking dust around every day so I don't really care about his hot body driving that tractor around in front of my house), the kids have a new school that they claim is public (read free) but every day I am asked for $50-130 ($130 was today - not some random number), AND I still can't find my shoes. Where is that box anyway, and why do I always lose one box when moving, and where in the hell does it go? I swear the only thing we left at the house in Seattle was an old rusty bathtub with a lawnmower motor in it for ballast. I thought of it as a kind of yard art. The new owners thought it was junk. I had to pay $115 to have it removed. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder I guess. And while on the subject of the New Owners, why do they write 'return to sender' on my mail when they have our forwarding address? That is just plain strange. And I bet the garden looks like shit. Whatever.



Back to that box. All of my shoes are in it except for a pair of Chaco's (that I wear every day and are starting to have a fetid odor) and a couple of pairs of torturous high heels that I wear for the walk from the car to the wedding/funeral/Bar Mitzvah/banquet hall seating then take off (how did they break out of that box??). I like the way those shoes look. But hate hate hate their feeling. And I have no occasion to wear them except for a quick trip to T.J's in my ball gown for a replenishing of turkey jerky. So where are those beloved shoes of mine? I am sure I would have gotten a bill for their disposal from the N.O.'s if I had left them in Seattle. They are all so soft and lovely and feel so nicely on my feet. And I have the added bonus of being able to balance and walk in them as opposed to *purdy* shoes that I always fall down and scrape my knee in (usually after a drink or four) and wreck my skirt and drip blood all over the place. It is fucked up. I want my fucking shoes. Not the change I was looking for when uprooting my family and moving into our Grapes of Wrath like environs. Paying up the ying yang for PUBLIC school changes? Sure! Not being able to appreciate the physical beauty of a hot young farmer because of the dust kind of change? You bet! Not fucking high heel change. That is just too much to ask...