A bit of a ramble.  Don’t read if you are in the mood for concise.

I was very surprised to see that I hadn’t blog for 10 days!  I thought it had only been 4 or 5.  It’s weird how time in the summer sort of morphs into this big modge-podge. 

Anyway, lots has been happening.  Don’s publishing house loves his first novel so much that they have already committed to doing his next one.  It took them all of one evening to read over his proposal, sample chapters and send a deal memo off to his agent.  I tell him it’s not always this way, but I don’t know if he believes me. 

Will had a great time at the acting summer school he went to, and it sounds like he learned tons.

The Canadian Government still hasn’t sent back the enormous surplus they over-charged me last year, but hey, what do I care?  Gerry informs me that they pay a 5% interest rate.  So, as far as I’m concerned that is way better than I can earn on a AAA bond right now.  Way better.  They can keep my darn money as long as they like. 

I bought a new pair of walking shoes today.  I hadn’t planned on it.  After I finished dibbling around in my writing room, suffering through dribs and drabs and starts and stops on my manuscript, I went to the shopping center to see if I could find something fabulous for my sister’s birthday that is roaring up on me. 

I didn’t find anything for Jenny, but this shoe store that specializes in comfortable shoes for women past a certain age of which I am one, had big 50-70% sale banners up and I was done for.  It didn’t matter what the shoes looked like, particularly.  It didn’t matter that I was talking myself into believing that some large black orthopedic shoes were actually cute and sassy, and perfect for wearing to those sophisticated gatherings were one has to stand for hours, smiling and clutching a warm glass of white wine and pretending to sip now and then, so other people who are throwing back the booze with the enthusiasm of underage rugby players, won’t worry that I’m an uptight, prim, tea-totaling priss and standing in judgement, because really, I don’t care.  Do what you do, smoke, drink, just as long as you go about it safely and don’t hurt anybody.

So, I’m thinking, I can wear these new shoes to tromp around and look at sights when Don and I go on this exotic trip, but I can also, slip on a dress and wear them out at night.  All purpose.  Black goes with everything, especially if I wear black tights.

All right!  All right!  So I’m not a fashionista, who cares?  It’s dark at night, and besides, who looks at people’s feet?  These shoes are fine, they are comfortable, are polished (yes I bought the shoe conditioner “for only $9.99!“  And yes, I have several similar shoe polishes in the hall closet that probably do the exact same thing, but the shoe sales woman was insistent that this was the best and most proper shoe conditioner to have and that the others that are clogging up my shelf are all shit.)  And last but not least, these shoes are in the very versatile colour of black. 

...Well…actually, the pair that I picked up and asked to try on, were black, but when we finally found the right size, all they had was dark brown.  Which I have convinced myself they are close enough to black that nobody will know the difference.  They were such a good buy, and they will be comfortable once I have them broken in.

Hence, me sitting here, typing to you, with these gargantuan shoes sweating up my feet.  I had to take my gym socks off because I was losing the feeling in my little toes.  I probably shouldn’t have tried them on in the shoe store with those minuscule pantyhose things that were a big nuisance.  I don’t know how other people are able to stretch those things over their feet?  And my feet are only 7 1/2.  What do women with larger feet do?  I could not keep those darned things up over my heel. 

Hmm…I think this is another one of those blogs that falls under the “too much information” category.  Oh well.  That’s what you sometimes get if you come to my blog. 

Nite.  xo

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, August 25, 2008 in Chewing the Fat