it's not you, it's me

Dear high heeled/platform shoes and boots/ies,

The changing of seasons from winter to spring (and quite abrupt, at that) has caused me to reevaluate our relationship. Perhaps it is the lengthening daylight hours, or the sudden spike in outdoor temperature; perhaps it is the carefree atmosphere of patio drinking- of the jovial clinking of condensation-covered beer glasses over trivial conversation, the scent of grass clippings in the air, the sounds of sweet birdsong and country music stations through the open windows of cars driving by, or perhaps it's the promise of small town summer festivals and lazy days spent dripping sweat in the July humidity yet to come. Perhaps it is all of these blissful imaginings, but most of all,  my reintroduction to summer sandals and flats brought me to come to an epiphany on where we stand with each other (no pun intended.)

You see, my darling beautiful stilettos and precious pumps, being with ballet flats and colorfully beaded and braided thongs isn't so much new and exciting, but comfortable and warm and sweet and easy, like a worn-in oak rocking chair, or a Schwinn cruiser bike, or a Sunday morning egg bake brunch, or the way I feel when I drink whiskey. Of course, you and I have had our wonderful times, too, and I can't deny that you make me feel tall and strong and practically Xena-warrior princess-like and sexy and sassy all at once. We've traversed through snow, mud, on luscious green lawns and slippery slick ice together, and even made it up and down some rather precarious stairways. 

Yet, fabulous footwear, I am undeniably and innately clumsy. My mother recently confessed to me that she was embarrassed to go to my 8th grade volleyball games- I'd run around the court (making it painfully obvious that I was out of my element) and laugh when I made a mistake (which was more often than not). Further evidence of my lack of grace on any athletic court/field was that I didn't understand in 1997 why I fouled out of games during my short-lived junior high basketball career, and nearly fifteen years later, I still don't. I am the bearer of several burn marks on my hands and upper arms from hot pots and pans. I have a big lump remaining on my shin from a tumble I took down some steps more than six months ago (while wearing you, "Trace," in lavendar from ShoeDazzle). 

The physical trauma of our relationship has mostly healed, my dear toppling skyscrapers, but I experience phantom pains now when glancing at you in my closet when determining what my outfit shall be each day as I dress. I even sense empathy pains in my ankles and in the balls of my feet when perusing the online People mag gallery of "last night's look" and spot the most exquisite of designer creations on the feet of celebs. Something must be done, so I am doing it. 

It's not you, it's me. Truly, I say to you, soaring-soled friends of mine, the time has come for us to go on a break. Fret not, for this shan't be permanent. We are the Ross and Rachel of humans and their shoes- constantly turning and dipping and sashaying away from one another until our own special gravity brings us back to where we belong. 

And so, there will, of course, come a day when I come crawling back to you in order to complete a fab outfit with equally glamorous footwear. There will be a wedding. A bachelorette party. A high school reunion. A gig. God willing, a date.

We complete each other.

Until then, my heart, my shoe-collection-which-gives-me-the-breath-of-hope-and-life, please take care of yourself.

All my love,

Erin Teresa

whoopsies

Overwhelmed with the thrill of being able to get myself up on the monkey bars and hang upside down, even at the ripe age of 27, I forgot that I was wearing a demi bra. 

In a normal standing position, the shirt I was wearing was not at all immodest. Yet, when I started out the day, I had no idea I'd find myself on a playground, and for all intents and purposes, dared to get up on those monkey bars and show them who's boss. 

I am not young anymore- nor are my breasts.

                                    

work in progress

Recently, I blogged about the inevitable passage of time (see "thirty"), and with that passage of time, the event of my thirtieth birthday, now coming up in 2 years, 9 months and some odd days. There is a lot of pressure from society on my generation to be settled by a certain age. I'm not sure exactly what "settled" means, but I suspect it involves owning property, being espoused to someone, working at a fast-paced/high paying/glamorous job, and possibly taking care of offspring. I have accomplished not a single one of those things, but lately (especially after having read an often hilarious book comprised of essays from various female authors in their 30s and beyond- which I highly recommend to all women age 20+), I find myself just fine with many aspects of my current situation. Additionally, I am very happy to report that I have accomplished or nearly accomplished more than a few items on my "thirty things before I'm thirty" list.

*pat myself on the back*

#4- Visit friends in far-off places:  (sort of) CHECK! I recently spent a week in Chicago/Kenosha/Milwaukee, making up for lost time. This fall, I hope/plan to take flight, landing in Arizona, where my dear old friend BS (yes, those are her actual initials) is set to give birth to Baby S #1. I'm astonished at my reproducing friends. I admire their courage. I applaud their efforts. Mostly, I'm happy to buy cute baby outfits for them, but not be the person responsible for changing poopy diapers. For now, I'm content to be Auntie Erin- The One Who Sings and Likes Cats and Wears Lots of Makeup and Knows All Those Famous Gay Men.

#6- Live by myself: (almost) CHECK! I am applying to live in a darling 1 bedroom sitting practically atop a lake and adorable neighborhood.  It's perfect (for me); it has lots of light/windows, tall ceilings, a patio, a gas stovetop, abundant character, allows pets, overlooks a charming lake in the downtown area, and the heat/water/sewer/garbage is included... I am having visions of many nights curled up under a quilt with my furry feline friend, sipping red wine, reading, blogging, making crafts with buttons, DIY repurposing projects, dabbling in photo editing, talking to myself, going bra-less, drinking 2 day old coffee without fear of being judged (waste not, want not), going to the bathroom with the door open, walking around without pants on, and so much more.

#8- Lose thirty pounds: (half) CHECK! Thanks to an online calorie tracker/weight loss community, I am just 1 lb shy of half of that goal of thirty pounds. What's more exciting is that I plan to lose those thirty pounds and then some. I am thrilled with the results so far and hope to continue the transformation. Most surprising about this process is that I've actually enjoyed exercising. Those who have known me for some time may not believe me, but it's true. I, Erin Teresa Gaffaney, like going to the gym. Admittedly, I owe much of my progress to closed captioning on the individual tvs mounted on each elliptical (equipped with cable channels), Jimmy Fallon's late late night show, E! News, Chelsea Handler's show, headphones, and the soundtrack to Step Up! 3 and any/all albums by Robin Thicke and Beyonce. Please don't judge me. I like to blame (in part) technology on the rising rates of obesity in these United States, but in my case, it's helped to combat it. Also, it should not go unmentioned that there is the occasional Hottie McHottie working out at the Anytime Fitness I frequent, which serves as fantastic eye candy/motivation. What? I'm only human.

#14- Keep a plant alive for a remarkable length of time: CHECK (times 2)!! I have a violet that was given to me in December that is not only still alive, but growing. Five months kept alive- very remarkable indeed. I also have an oxalis that is living in my office, having been kept alive since it was given to me in early March. It is not only alive, but thriving. Also remarkable is that I had the forethought to ask the secretary at work to water my plants during my week-long absence in order that they might not wither and perish. Wow. I've really outdone myself on this one. I think I may take things a step further and plant a few flowers. Perhaps I'll even transfer the oxalis from its current tiny plastic pot to something bigger and fancier- something in which it might grow bigger and taller yet. How exciting.

#26- Send more birthday cards to family and friends: CHECK! If I may boast, I've been stellar at this in the last few months. Just ask my family and friends. However, I did miss Grandma G's b-day, so I'll have to make up for that by sending a homemade card. I am not good at scrapbooking, so this may or may not be something I made with crayons.

#29- Take a community ed pottery class: (sort of) CHECK! While mosaic-making isn't exactly pottery, it's still functional art. Thanks, Groupon and Mercury Mosaics. I did look into the local community ed catalog for a pottery offering, but the consecutive classes on Saturday afternoons during June and July conflict with my schedule of singing at weddings, working, and taking advantage of mosquito season.



Wow. 6/30. That's not bad, considering it's been less than 3 months since I made my list. I suppose I might be kind of a big deal sooner than later if I accomplish the other 24 items before 2/28/14.