WTH you sick bastard?!

When this “meeting reminder” popped up on my screen, I think I was in shock for a second or two...staring, frozen, trying to make SENSE of it all? Who would do this kind of thing? How could someone be so cruel? But I soon realized that only a dummy like me could have done something so complete stupid and ...“optimistic”. As you’ve probably realized by now, I thought it would be “neat-o” to do a meeting notice for 10 years from that date, to see where we all stood, and how many kids we all had.

Another brilliant idea.

I’m actually laughing about it now. A few years ago this type of thing might have sent me to the bathroom to collect myself, but now I just think its freakin’ hilarious – I mean, this type of thing couldn’t happen to anyone but me!

So hat’s off to you sick karmic joker – you got me good!

When One Door Closes, Another Door Opens

It's been a long time my friends.

My apologies for not keeping up with the blog, but it IS a fertility related blog, and until now there has been little to report. As you all know, our last donor egg transfer didn't work...a complete and utter blow for both of us. Four perfectly good embryos from a 26 year old body, and not a glimmer of life. Since then I've been wondering WHAT IS THE POINT in continuing to transfer these quality embryos to me, if my body is just not up to the task? There IS no point...and my biggest fear was that I would potentially squander away the life of these 15 remaining embryos - my frozen little bubbies - on my busted up and pissed-off-at-the-world uterus. No. I won't do it.

My fears were only confirmed when we visited the doctor for our FU followup (for those who aren't familiar with the verbiage, yes, FU means what you think it does). He told us that my uterus was just not responding...that regardless of the textbook levels of estrogen in my body, my uterus wasn't budging...it wasn't thickening...and that there's really nothing to do at this point. Part of me was upset, of course, but a bigger part of me was relieved. I didn't really WANT the doctor to say, "let's throw another shrimp on the barbie!" And I really thought he would due to the fact that we have all of these embryos, but I would have needed him to CONVINCE me that there was something else to try...some other wonder-drug, or something drastic and hopeful. I didn't want to go through the motions, once again, only to be disappointed, ONCE AGAIN.

To be honest, I'm a little relieved for the closure. I knew it wasn't happening with my body...its fairly obvious at this point, and after 6 years of disappointment, 9 IVF's, 2 of which were donor egg and 4 surgeries later, I'm ready for the next option: Surrogacy.

GOD, can you believe me? I mean, what is wrong with me that I can't stop this merry-go-round, except it's not merry at all, it's shitty...I'm on a shitty-go-round. But I'm so determined and I can't quit now. How can I quit after 6 years of making this my ultimate goal? To everyone else it comes so easy, sure, but for me it has been a constant and unrelenting battle, and to give up now? I just can't do it people - it would be a waste of 6 years... I need to continue this path until I have absolutely ZERO options left.

But right now we have 15 frozen embryos, and would you believe there are women out there (with fluffy n' pink uterus's) who desire to carry a baby for people like us? Sounds like a solution to me.

So please cheer us on and give us your full support as we begin the journey towards surrogacy.

Week in Review

Well as you know I started a “diet plan” – well I guess you could call it that, although it doesn’t much feel like a diet - probably because I haven’t starved in any way shape or form, and I’ve enjoyed all of my meals. I can’t say that Chris’s dinner of Sour Cream and Onion chips and Coffee Crisp Mini’s didn’t chant my name (overpowering the tv), but I managed to pull through with a couple of bites of his dessert...Nibs.

The day goes sort of like this... I start with a bowl of oatmeal – just the quickies you buy in the packets, you know, the reduced fat ones. The maple and brown sugar one is delicious and often people come around and ask if I’m baking a cake...it smells that good. I throw banana slices which at first I thought would be disgusting, but it was delicious. For a snack I have some almonds and some cherries, or a 70cal Special K bar – also delicious – the Almond and Peanuts is my favourite, but they also have Chocolate Crunch which I save for a chocolate craving. At 11:30 or so I have a fruit salad from downstairs. Then around 12:30 when I start to get really hungry, I have a couple of eggs, or some chicken cooked the night before, some salad...whatever kind... Another snack of whatever – fruit, almonds, maybe a yogurt... and then to the gym. For dinner I have either some brown rice pasta with a tomato sauce, or a piece of protein, (i.e. steak, chicken, pork, fish) and baked tomatoes with cheese, or asparagus on the BB, or butternut squash with a touch of honey. Dessert often is no-fat plain yogurt (and I add in a swirl of honey) over some pinapple/cherries/strawberries/blueberries – whatever you can throw in a small dish. Seems to satisfy the sweet craving I get after dinner.

Et voila – quite good – lots of choices – eating well, eating WHOLE foods, basically – little to no sauces, nothing processed, stay away from the bad carbs.

Monday, June 14. 127lb.

(holy sh*t!)

Wee House

I don't care if my house is teeny weeny, or not sophisticated, or "shabby chic", we both love it, and so do our guests. We're very proud of this little dwelling and have worked hard to make it feel nice, despite it's age.

Problem is we'll eventually grow out of it.

See "George" was a laborer, an immigrant from Scotland, and he worked at Casa Loma. George had 2 pairs of work pants, 2 sets of longjohns, 2 shirts, 1 jacket and 1 ever-so-beaten pair of work boots. Hence the closets in bedrooms, which are suitable for a dude like George. Afterall, why on earth would George need a walk in? (God rest his soul.)

Our bedroom closet, clearly a design flaw, has not allowed for my (I-won't-go-into-how-much-there-really-is) wardrobe.

But oh, I do love it.

If Chris was a Woman, he'd be 500 pounds...

Stepped on the scale this morning, and was left agasp.

I haven’t been exercising, actually I went to buy new running shoes about a month ago because my Achilles was really a mess and figured it was because my running shoes were 2.5 years old!!! You think??? But I haven’t been out since. Some of you know I slipped in an embryo transfer. It didn’t work – I don’t want to talk about it - let’s move on. Clearly, un-blogging about it didn’t have any kind of karmic twist or impact, so I’ll write about the next one…for those of you who love to read about train wrecks.

I have been eating whatever…especially this last weekend because when I asked Chris what he wanted to do for his birthday, he simply said,“I want cake, and I want to eat like a king." (Henry VIII that is) So from Friday night until Saturday night, I spent most of the time cooking horribly delicious things in the kitchen. I said to Chris, “the icing is good, but I feel like I’m biting into chocolate flavoured butter.” His response was, “and the problem with that would be…???”

It’s no wonder the scale read 135 this morning. I did the early morning quick rub of the eyes for clarity… still 135. This can’t be. Repeat steps, reset scale, step back on…136 – GAAAH! In under 20 seconds I gained another lb? This is an outrage!

It does appear hopeless, but fear not, on the subway this morning the hunger to lose weight began to build, which is all it takes for me to get serious. Time to get moving again.

By the time I stepped off the subway platform (and I’m sure I felt the subway rear back to its level position) I knew I needed to lose 10 lb’s. Damn…where is that Steven King gypsy to make me thinner ? Maybe instead of caressing my face and saying “thinner” and ultimately causing my demise, he could rub my face and say “slightly thinner, in the manner of 10-15 lb’s.”

Today’s menu has so far consisted of black decaf (I know…), a huge bowl of delicious fruit from Onorios which I swear is the best deal in town. The fruit is always ripe and perfect, no hard bits or too much rind of anything. Everything is so fresh and juicy – and there’s a HUGE amount of it…for $4.00. Best deal ever. For lunch I had spinach salad more or less dry save the one tablespoon of dressing, sunflower seeds, and 2 hard boiled eggs.

Off to a good start.

I called the dumb gym downstairs to re-activate my account. It’s dumb because its small and has next to nothing in it. But see, I have a hard time going home and going back out. For a while there I would force myself to go directly upstairs and put on my gear. I had to stay very focussed - just eyes forward so as to not distract myself with Miss Vicky’s chips left out on the counter, or the mail that has to be brought in, or the flowers that need to be watered, or sparkly pretty things… but it wasn’t easy and often by the time I reached the top step I was out of breath and talking myself out of it.

Let me tell you that 3 weeks of that attitude and we’ve got ourselves a situation…and not the Jersey Shore kind. I’ll never be skinny and I don’t want to be, but I want to appear as firm as possible. The fat rarely budges these days, but the muscle underneath can be toned… not to mention the health aspect of eating clean and forcing your heart to pump.

Monday, June 7. 135lb.

Lilac

I can't deny my passion for all things floral - especially when they are lavender color and easy on the eyes as well as the senses. These stolen gems have filled our house with the aroma of spring and a sense of calm...

(No I am not the thief, that would be my neighbor who came over last night with a smile and a suspicious handful of lilac. Who am I to judge? Love thy neighbor and all that...)

Coffee

I’m not a big coffee drinker, never have been, but every so often I’d have that first sip at my desk and it would be oh-so-good that it would make me moan out loud. “mmmmmm… good stuff…” One of life’s simple little pleasures. But I read recently that caffeine is bad for my lining…and now we’re on a mission to get it as fluffy as possible. So I drink decaf now…and wow does it suck.

When I quit regular coffee it was an assault to my system like no other, and it’s not even like I had that much. In fact, I rarely drank more than one coffee a day (granted I had a large). But there couldn’t possibly have been that much caffeine in my system to justify three weeks of crippling headaches. At first I doubted it and tried to pin the headaches on something else…like weather pressure or lack of sleep or stiff muscles in my back. But every time I mentioned I’d quit caffeine people would go on and on about how bad the headache can be…and how long it can last (they'd say between frantic sips of their own addictive variety).

But I did it – I quit and now I have Saturdays. Saturdays are my day to indulge, and I have a Tim Horton’s at the foot of my back alley. I literally climb out of bed, use a facecloth to get rid of my eye crusties, run a brush through my hair, throw on track pants and a baseball hat and stumble out the back door. That one paper cup of caffeinated sin has become the best thing about my weekends.

So happy weekend everyone!

________________________________________________

A Man Fainted at the Clinic Today

He was getting blood drawn for the first time.

Ninny.

Isn't it Ironic? Don't you think?

It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
Vaginal ultrasound...on Mo-o-ther's day
Who would've thought... it figures

Friends

When I was younger, I had very few good friends. I never felt like I quite was "wanted" as a friend. Friends would make plans, and I would wonder if I would be invited. Everyone seemed to have a clique of their own, and I was the floater. It meant I was never part of the core group. Don't get me wrong, I had some very good friends, but I envied those groups that were complete within their members...impenetrable.

In an attempt to find my own clique I happened across a few fake friends... it was a high school desperation thing...I didn't want to be alone.

When I was in grade 9, I got chased into the 2nd foor bathroom by two girls who called me a friend the day prior. I never could understand how a) girls could be so cruel, and b) how quickly they turned. I remember being in that bathroom, standing on the toilet, shaking from head to toe...my chest heaving, my blood racing, the tears welling. "You're fucking dead" is what they said to me when I walked out of the gym that day. I had done nothing wrong... they were just mean girls. Over the next few days it resolved itself, although the three of us were never friends again. But the damage of that day stayed with me for a very long time. I learned that day that you couldn't trust anyone.

I haven't always been the best friend I can be either - absolutely not. There are lots of things I regret doing - short cuts that were obvious, gossip that came full circle, disloyalty, and occasionally a very disappointed friend. This was mostly in my 20's - and those days I am not proud of in many respects. I have seen friends walk away, and in hindsight, I can't say I blame them. It was difficult with me...I was insecure, nervous, scared to be somewhere I didn't want to be...scared to trust. I bailed a lot.

One day a friend said to me, "You're a total bailer." I remember it felt like a slap in the face, but at the same time I knew she was right - I WAS a total bailer. Hey, the truth hurts. But then I set out to prove her wrong. Now I'm committed - if I say I'm going to be there, I'll be there. Unless I'm ill - and I don't lie about it.

Social anxiety plagued me for years, and to a certain degree it still does. There are some people and some situations that still rattle me - not my close friends - but more the acquaintances I've met along the way. This city is tough and everyone's trying to be "perfect", why I don't know. It's total bullshit, but it's how this city runs. I hate small talk and it's those "so what have you been up to?" situations that rev my anxiety. And I don't know about you but there are days I am just not "on" and on those days it's hard for me to snap out of it.

It's taken me a long time to get to this point and I realize now that I have great friends. No one's going anywhere and I truly feel the friends I have now will be the friends I have for life. I feel like people get me now and that I've tapped into something special. I realize I don't HAVE to be a perfect friend anymore...I just have to be a friend. I especially relate to my friends who can admit their faults and issues in life. The ones who don't act like everything's always rosy - 'cause let's face it - everyone's got their own crap to deal with.

I'm happy now with this part of my life - and I've worked hard to get here. The ones that mattered, I didn't let get away...the ones who chose to walk away, would have done so eventually, even if I had tried to stop them.

Sure there's always room for improvement but I promise to be less hard on myself. Maybe that's the key right there - maybe I just need to be a better friend to my self, in order to be a better friend to others.

Nuthin' Spesh...

Nothing earth-shattering or new...just in the limbo stages between transfers. On Tuesday I had the usual blood work and ultrasound done. Everything is ok except that my lining is "quite thin". It's a bit unnerving considering it's a main reason for a failed transfer, but the nurse told me that the doctor is putting me on a certain drug to thicken the lining. I can't remember the name of the drug, but when they are offering me information without too much prying, I am NOT going to push my luck...but it was different than just Estrace/estrogen. Anything to supercharge growth down there is ok by me.

S (my lovely donor) has sent the occasional email from Mexico. It is always so nice to hear from her. She's so sweet and sincere and always concerned and praying for us. I'm so glad she is the donor, I couldn't imagine anyone else at this point. She hasn't had a period since...well since we induced one and it wasn't impressive, but prior to that it was in Finland late last summer. I think the clinic is having her in when she returns from Mexico to see if they can help get her cycles back to normal...and of course we will help her as much as we can.

This week is Day 21 (Thursday) and I go in for another routine check - just to see what's going on down there.

On a more personal note, the staff at the clinic have been really great. There's been a shift in the way everyone communicates and it's really lightened the mood. I hope it's truly sincere on their part although who knows... That's the thing about private business. Do they really want to be nice and have a much smoother interaction with their customers/patients? Or are they scared of losing their jobs?

At this point the motivating factor doesn't really matter - I'm just going to roll with it!

Oh it sucks, you know it does...but it is a necessary evil. And one can't deny that the feeling once it's DONE is like no other. I've been really trying to stay on track since my coach/motivator/BFF/work partner and fashion twin is having a baby - TODAY, yes today I said. They just broke her water and she texted me "we'll see what happens now." Its uber exciting since she doesn't know what she's having. Anyhoo, she exercised her entire pregnancy, right up until the 11th hour so I have only been partnerless for about 3 weeks... and to be clear about how much she motivates me, its been about 3 weeks since I exercised.

But this week I got back in the game. Tuesday I ran the trail, Thursday and then again this morning. That's not bad considering I can talk myself out exercising every.single.time, which is why little miss "what else would you be doing for the next hour?" or, "you'll feel so great once it's done" or, "we're going Lisa, don't even try to get out of it." was so good for me.

Why she so disciplined? Hmmmm??

As I sprint towards my 42 birthday, I find it much easier to relax and have a savory snack, than to gear up for an hour of torture. But today's run was good, and I've been adding a little bit of extra torture just because if I'm already torturing myself, I might as well do it good. So I have been attempting to cross the bridge in lunges. On Thursday I got a third of the way across before the legs began to tremble, and today I made it half way.

Progress.

Tonight is Biryani House with the Biryani Gang- our favorite Indian restaurant...and I would just like to add that it is some of the most tastiest Indian food ever. Now I can eat guilt free knowing I took a few calories off today's total.

Look what the cat dragged in...

It’s me! Back from the dead…or the huge crank I had on from the surgery and the weeks that followed. I should apologize for my absence…I have often thought of the blog, but well, I have been feeling rather lobotomized lately – void of thought or creativity. I’m certain I’ve lost some of my loyal readership, which is unfortunate because for a while there I was up to a buck and a quarter on an “important news” day…which was a great accomplishment, especially considering I know only about 7 people. My “Google Analytics” tracking shows that interest in my blog has plummeted an impressive 62%. I did it to myself…I did.

A bit about me. Well I wonder on just about an hourly basis if the D&C procedure really worked. I know I had a balloon in there for about a week and continued to eat fistfuls of Estrace tablets, but one can’t be sure. The doctor did seem optimistic when I had the balloon removed, but in my crazy mind I picture it all slowly caving in towards itself and sticking back together again.

Is the real estate now good enough for my ice bubs?

A fellow blogger referred me to a great donor egg forum…it has been fascinating and eye opening. I am not alone and many women exactly like me have had to try 2 or more egg donors before becoming successful. A lot of women get donors through agencies, and despite age and medical testing for the donor, end up with nothing. NOTHING. I simply cannot imagine. I believe as the recipients (people like me) get wiser, the agencies have to change their policies. There are a lot of agencies that are now doing insured cycles, meaning that the recipients won’t be out of pocket should the cycle be a disaster. One woman mentioned that she paid the agency fee of $6,800, waited for the donor to be free to cycle and found out she had gotten married and had become pregnant and the woman lost all of her money.

Insult to injury.

But it’s been a great resource and I’m happy to have been referred there. A woman told me the other day that the only two times she has ever been pregnant in her entire life was with her son and with her daughter, and both were from frozen embryo transfers…which I am about to do.

So just when I thought I was completely out of hope, I’ve managed to scrape a tiny little bit more off the bottom.

Calm.

I had the balloon removed...heaven on earth I tell you. The crap with the clinic is over (that's another story but I don't have the energy to "go there" again), so things are finally calming down and looking up. I remember thinking "god, not ANOTHER procedure", but here we are on the other side of it, with a better looking uterus. The procedure worked and my uterus has opened up and has grown in thickness...this is very good news.

I have to have a period (or two) under my belt before we consider a transfer, so we're looking at probably an early summer cycle.

Until then, we give ourselves a chance to heal from all the drama of the past 2 weeks...

I'll tell you, this is the HARDEST thing I have ever had to fight for...I hope its not all in vain.

Thanks to everyone for all of your emails and comments! I couldn't do this without your constant encouragement and support. Love to all.

I Suck at Confrontation

I hate that I just had to do that. I am a nice person who likes things harmonious and I hate having conflict. First of all I totally suck at it - it always comes out the wrong way, and secondly, someone will get in shit, and I hate being a narc.

Or will they? Will they just scoff and say "that girl is so high maintenance - she just expects us to run circles around her - who does she think she is?" Are they all having a good laugh? Or do they hate me even more now that I've had to rat them out? Does the doctor even know? I doubt A would voluntarily tell him that they dropped the ball. My impression is he's a bit of dick for a boss...I have seen him get short with his staff - he's rolled his eyes in anger in my direction...those times you can cut the tension with a knife, and I've often thought to myself "I'd hate to work here."

I called and knew A would answer the phone. She's not a nurse - she's the office co-ordinator. It went like this...

A: Dr. A's office?

L: Hi A, it's LM.

A: Oh hi dear, how are you?

(this is where it all goes down hill)

L: Fine. A, don't you normally follow up after a surgery? I was told I would get a phone call the night of, and I was told I would DEFINITELY get a call the next day...and nothing. No one has contacted me from your office.

(silence)

A: Oh... I'm... so sorry sweetie... how are you feeing now?

L: Actually I don't feel very good at all. I've been nauseated and exhausted. I have a foreign object in my body and I am calling to find out when I can get it out.

A: Let me call you back sweetie.

L: (grrrr stop calling me sweetie) Ok.

She called back to say that the longer the balloon is in the better...BECAUSE "it was a very difficult procedure". REALLY? I hadn't realized. I said "speaking of, I really don't know what happened during the procedure -why did it take 3 hours? Was it not supposed to be 40 minutes?" She said yes, but that it was "a very difficult procedure." She said that the doctor explained everything to Chris. Uh, Chris isn't a doctor - he's the spouse of a patient. I would rather hear it from the horse's mouth.

So nothing resolved really/no reprocussions for them...she'll probably whisper it to G (Bloodwench) that she forgot to follow up and G will get her nose out of joint again and act like she did nothing wrong, and ONCE AGAIN I'll be made to feel the asshole, the trouble maker, the high maintenance one.

Lose/lose.

This all needs to stop♦

Its been two days since my "D&C". I believe everything went well although how would I know? I have had to ask C a million questions - he was in the room with me and watched for 3 hours while I squirmed around semi-conscious begging them to stop. But C isn't a surgeon, or a doctor, or even a nurse, just my husband, who held my hand for 3 hours and talked me through something awful and painful. Thankfully it only felt like 20 minutes, but those 20 minutes, I'm finding, were traumatic. And I thought my first egg retrieval was bad.

I made amends with the nurse. She was good to me before and after the surgery...we had spoken the day before and laughed about something...it broke the ice. After the surgery she held me tight when my legs were about to buckle...she had my back. In an effort to bury the hatchet, a very drug-induce me hugged her tight and said "I'm sorry about everything." She hugged me back and said "that's ok". As she walked me to the car where Chris was waiting with the door open, she said to both of us, "I will call you tonight, but I don't want anyone getting out of bed or rushing for the phone, if we don't make contact tonight, that's ok...but I WILL be calling you tomorrow and I WILL need to speak with you or C...we need to make sure everything's ok."

For once I felt she cared, that the whole office cared...she was sincere and she had also burried the hatchet. I felt like I was back on track with the clinic. That was Thursday, it's now Saturday night and I have not heard from anyone at that office, not even the doctor. Yesterday I cried my eyes out about this - how could they just leave us hanging like this? How could they forget my crying out and begging for them to stop? Surely someone would have thought to follow up... but I guess not even the doctor did, because this would have prompted a call.

I feel so totally let down. Maybe the drugs and the recovery are making me more sad and dramatic than usual... but I'm tired of being "fine" - putting on a brave face. I need to be upset.

Who knows if I'm healing properly? We don't. We don't know anything. Yesterday I threw up twice, and today thankfully, only once. I know this might sound silly, but over my dead body was I calling that clinic. They've wormed their way out of other screw ups a bunch of times before, and I wasn't about to risk looking the idiot, again, and having them say"we were just ABOUT to call you "sweetie"...you beat us to the punch." No way...because it would have been a lie.

And other than Chris's account, which is reassuring, yet understandably incomplete, I know very little about what was done to my body.

"Oh God, you're a "Returner" aren't you?!"

What's that? Come again? I didn't realize that there was a name for people like me...people who buy things, and often have an error in judgment. People who realize that the item du jour doesn't really work with the season or the wardrobe, and end up RETURNING the item. I didn't realize it was a bad thing...maybe a little annoying for the merchant, but not, like, illegal or anything.

I took back the shoes. HEAR ME OUT! Throughout the past week and a bit, when I have been getting dressed, I have sometimes slipped on the shoes to see if THAT outfit worked with the shoes...its not like my style is incredibly diverse - rather quite simple, so if the shoes don't work with simple jeans and a tank, then I probably won't wear them at all. I have no weddings or showers to attend this summer, and let's face it, they are more weddingy than funky.

I had another look on the site, because exchange or credit note were my options (I guess I could also be labelled an "Exchanger") and found a much more suitable "fun" shoe that will be a lot more versatile. A chunkier heel, a bit more laid back as opposed to all grown up and lady like.

Do you think I should own my own shoe store? I do...I very much do.

D&C Me!

Don't be fooled by my title, I'm not really that excited to have my uterus gutted and scraped like a pumpkin at Halloween, but it's a necessary procedure.

The doctor is still very hopeful. Maybe he's a bit "challenged". I wish I could feel the same way. I apologized (in jest) for ruining his stats. He smirked and said not to worry about his stats.

The sooner the better really..I'm tired of living in this Limboland..it sucks and C & I both need a new direction if this isn't going to work.

I figure we'll get this scrapey business dealt with and then we can transfer to our heart's content... but we WILL be saving some embies for a surrogate.

Any takers?

Be Still, My Heart

Oh how I love them so. It was love at first sight. At the first moment our eyes met, I knew it was meant to be...but it was scandalous, and I wondered if I could justify such an extravagant purchase.

See, N went into the store to buy a messenger bag for her husband, and I was not to buy anything at all, but this is what happens, see...with both of us...and then N was all "I LOVE them. NO...I freakin' LOOOOVE them. You HAVE to buy those Lis, you HAVE to...they are SO GORGEOUS." I have to admit they do look fantastic on my feet and WOW talk about comfortable...they are really easy to wear/walk in. Worth it? I'd say!

Sold.

(Let me just say, however, that they are not white. I really hate white shoes...and I did have a bit of an issue buying the bone color. They came in black and red, BUT the bone ones looked so cool and edgy with my black jeans and my almost black toes... I tried on the black ones, but they just weren't really doing it for me...and red is out because I'm just not a fan. They are not as white as they appear in the picture - the flash did that. Think a little paler than beige, but not quite a true bone either.)

Remember the Shoes?

I was so happy when our tiny mail delivery person came around the corner with my bright yellow happy smiley-faced Zappo’s box, singing "Oooooweee Leeeeesaaaaa, how aaaaaaaare yooooooooooou?? I have a package forrrrryoooooou!!” I’ve never known anyone to like me more than she does, which kindof makes me feel good, even though she’s a bit of an odd duck which is probably why she likes me so much…because she’s weird and I attract weirdos… ‘cause I’m nice…even though that certainly wasn’t a very nice thing to say but it's just a fact. Anyway, I signed for the package and off she scurried. I decided to take the shoes home (but not the box) so I could try them on without having to lug the box back and forth if they needed to be returned… The entire way home I was dreaming up outfits that would complement my fabulous new shoes. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping...the smell of spring and BBQ's in the air. I came up with 2 possible scenarios…very pleased with myself.

1. Skinny jeans, longish tank, chunky necklace
2. Pencil or tulip skirt, flirty blouse

Well…I’m sad to announce, that they are currently on a ship back to Zappoland.

Who the hell can wear these things? During my search did I unknowingly click on “Hooker Heels”? Was there a subsection called “Achy Breaky Neck”? Unwilling to admit I had once again failed to purchased a SINGLE wearable on-line item, I stubbornly proceeded to my makeshift runway (the hallway). I wasn’t going to give up, dammit, I had spent my 20’s & 30’s in high heels. I am WOMAN.

I balanced myself, took a deep breath and proceeded to take my first step…hoookaaay…by step #2 I knew this wasn’t going to work. I threw myself down on the floor in a strop and unlatched the ankle straps, one by one. I stuffed them back into the bag and mumbled to myself, “not a chance in HELL.”

I was so depressed that my first attempt at buying shoes on line had gone so sour, that I treated myself to a delivery from Victoria Secret…a bathing suit, which I have not a shred of doubt will fit me like a glove.