Digital ravings of an analog girl

The shoes I’m wearing today are definitely not the highest pair of heels I have, but they are the most precipitous.  This means they are the steepest shoes I own (in the literal sense, not the cost-a-bomb sense).  Walking in these shoes requires me to throw my shoulders back to avoid falling on my face (or any of the other bits of me that stick out front).  They are no good for walking any distance.  And forget about running!…

However, these shoes are the ultimate shoes for driving fast.  I don’t know why, but they just push in the accelerator that bit further.  They scream ‘Faster!’ at me.  I have just drag-raced a rather startled boy racer from the Basin Reserve to Courtenay Place.  It was goooood.  If I was driving behind me, I would hate me.

I feel that I should get these shoes out of my system before the Land Transport (Enforcement Powers) Amendment Bill and Vehicle Confiscation and Seizure Bill are passed (those law types could sure use some marketing help with naming these things – you know the press are just going to dub these the car crusher bills).  Imagine having your car crushed.  I can see a whole new twitpic stream emerging.  I’m not sure it would deter boy racers.  Maybe if the boy racer was in the car when it was crushed?  That would put me off. 

I’m off to the supermarket now.  I feel a carpark wheelie coming on.  Is coercion by shoes a valid defence?  It’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

the sheer joy shoes

Remember Heelies?  A few years back, the cool kids were scooting around in these sneakers with a roller wheel in the heel.  My niece had a pair, and I had Heelies envy.

Then one day, I was walking past the Salvation Army store on Cuba Street, and there they were – adult size 8 Heelies.  Of course I bought them immediately.  Then I spent a few happy Saturdays with my niece scooting down the driveway.  Actually, my niece scooted – I mainly slid down on my ass. 

But the point is, that these shoes are a bit of harmless joy (notwithstanding the bruises on my ass).  They serve no real purpose other than fun.  Nikes are better running shoes.  Roller skates are a faster, smoother ride.  Minx makes better looking sneakers.  These shoes are just for joy.

I am a fan of harmless joy.  I occasionally take my Heelies for a spin down the drive or the hallway.  I like roller coasters, blowing bubbles, the Transporter movies and candyfloss.  All things that serve no purpose other than a bit of joy. 

My niece has long since outgrown her Heelies, and for now, her capacity for harmless joy.  I hope she rediscovers it sometime soon. 

Fess up.  What do you do for the harmless joy of it?

Today (Saturday – Yes I know it’s Monday.  Just pretend OK?) there’s a wicked Southerly storm in Wellington.  I would like to stay in my slippers all day and watch the storm – I have a great view south from my bedroom window.  Sadly, gonna have to get real shoes on and get out amongst it. Love a good storm though.  Brrr…

waterproof, stainproof...

On Friday night I wore these rubber moulded flats to see comedian Danny Bhoy perform. 

Danny Bhoy’s schtik is to make fun of his failure to attract women.  He claims to have been single for 3… no wait 4… World Cups.  This is a lie for comedic effect.  The truth is that Danny Bhoy gets laid.  A lot.  How do I know this?  Because Danny Bhoy has at least 3 things going for him that ensure a man gets laid. He is funny, he has a cute Scottish accent and he’s easy on the eye.  All the women, and half the men in the audience would have gone home with him on Friday night.

I have a definitive Top 10 list of things that will get a heterosexual male laid.  This list is not guaranteed to get you a girlfriend, life companion or wife, but if you’re after a roll in the hay, it should do the trick.  The list has been peer reviewed, unscientifically tested and discussed ad infinitum.  You will most likely need two or more items working in tandem to get laid.

In no particular order, here’s what you need:

1. Be incredibly good looking.  Women are just a susceptible as men to a pretty face.
2. Be funny.  This means people other than your mum and your drunk mates think you’re funny.  Your mum and mates would find you hilarious even if you were a turnip.
3. Be exotic.  This is where the accent comes in.  The good news is that American women think the Kiwi accent is adorable, so maybe there’s a trip stateside in your future?
4. Be rich and generous with it.  I’m pretty sure I’d put out for a man who took me on a date to say… Monte Carlo.
5. Be famous.  Even moderately famous will do.  A fan club, no matter how small, is an aphrodisiac.
6. Be romantic.  I’m not talking about hearts and flowers here.  Just a bit of consideration.  Since the demise if chivalry, we women go gaga if a man lends us his jacket when we’re cold, or listens to what we say, asks questions and engages with us on a topic of our choosing.  Yes, you might have to talk shoes.  You want to get laid or not?
7. Be bad.  You don’t have to bite the heads off kittens or mug nuns for spare change.  But for some reason, a little disregard for authority, social mores or good manners is quite sexy.  (However, if you want a second date, being a nice guy is better).
8. Be great in bed.  News flash.  Women talk.  If you are a fantastic lay, your conquests will tell their friends.  Who will tell their friends.  It’s the ultimate in viral marketing.
9. Be realistic.  Having two or more items on this list probably won’t get Heidi Klum to sleep with you.  Heidi already sleeps with Seal, who has most of the list working for him.  Consider that maybe the girl doesn’t have to be a fashion model with a degree in astrophysics whose dad owns a brewery. 
10. Ask.  This one is for Kiwi guys.  If you want to close the deal, ASK.  Even before you are certain that the answer will be yes.  It’s worth the risk. Ask for the sale, guys.

That’s it really.  The rest is just hygiene factors (like hygiene – cleanliness is next to …heck women just have a thing about dirt).  Oh, and apparently it helps if you’re a computer nerd.  Off you go.  Fly my pretties!

a bit of practical magic...

Well, it’s the 21st day of shoe month.  I’m twenty blogs in (I missed last Sunday), and here’s where I have to admit, this is f***ing hard work!

When I decided that I would blog something about my shoes every day in May, I thought it would be a piece of cake.  Frankly, I’m not usually short of an opinion.  And although I give my opinion for a living, the truth is, I can barely keep it to myself for free most of the time.

But I throw up my hands in defeat today.  I could just blather on about what I was doing at work, but actually, I was bored silly by it -why would I want to take anyone who’s reading this into boredom with me? 

Sadly, this is not the case with many of the twitterers I follow.  I can’t believe the number of tweets I read, with absolutely no purpose other than to spread the boredom.  Come on folks!  If you want any kind of loyalty from your audience, you have a responsibility to entertain, inform, or just shut up.

…so I’m zipping it for now.

The shoes of an advevturer

These are not my shoes.  These shoes belong to my friend Robyn.  Quite often I would like to be in her shoes – she has a much more adventurous life than I do.

Here Robyn was shooting a promotion event for the Disney Pixar movie UP.  She is hanging off 70 helium-filled balloons in a chair.  Shooting with a camera I mean.  Not with a shotgun…  She is being paid to do this.

I’m not saying that everything Robyn does is like gliding over a parking lot attached to 70 helium balloons.  Heck, I’ve seen her have to elbow her way through an agressive pack of hacks just to get a shot of a Chinese politician that no-one much cares about.  And I’m sure she spends lots of time waiting around.  But for us desk jockeys, who spend their days on the on and off ramps of the information superhighway, riding 70 helium balloons for a living seems pretty sweet. 

I admit it.  I’m jealous.  What’s the emoticon for jealous?

The magic shoes

Today I’m wearing my magic salsa shoes.  Actually, I’m just trying them on for the picture– you can’t really wear these shoes off the dancefloor – you’ll ruin the suede soles. 

My salsa shoes really are magic.  They make me dance better.  It’s not just the easy spin suede soles, or the flexible straps that accommodate heel and toe action. Nope, when I’m wearing these shoes, I am Ginger Rogers.  I don’t always dance with Fred Astaire however.  The shoes are magic, they’re not God.

The backstory of the magic salsa shoes

I bought these magic salsa shoes (actually they’re really magic tango shoes) a couple of years back in Buenos Aires (Tango Brujo – a wonderful place).  At the same time, I signed up for my first Argentine Tango lesson.  When I arrived for said tango lesson I was confronted by 3 instructors that can only be described as a racial smorgasboard of male models.  Seriously, it was like a Benneton ad up there!  Of course I danced wonderfully in the arms of these gorgeous, strong, attentive… and silent men.  This really happened – it’s not a fantasy (well, it is… but it also really happened.)

Upon returning to New Zealand, I went back to my regular salsa rueda classes, wearing the magic shoes, and once again, I danced wonderfully.  I was dancing with the same men and women I always dance with (sometimes I lead when we’re short of men), but I was dancing better. 

Then one day I forgot my magic salsa shoes, and I slipped and fell off sweaty Shane and pulled a ligament in my knee.  Yes, I injured myself falling off a sweaty man!  I am convinced that this would not have happened had I been wearing the magic shoes.

I haven’t danced for a year.  Any type of swivel/turn action gets me limping again. But as I have to wear every pair of shoes I own in shoe month, this weekend I’m going back to the dance.

Faith in the magic

See it all comes down to faith.  Stay with me here – I promise this isn’t going to be a ‘join my cult’ pitch (I’m saving that for the blog about my red suede shoes).  I believe that these shoes are magic, because the magic has worked for me before, so I will dance fantastically and avoid injury when I’m wearing them.   

I think everyone has these magic items in their possession.  My friend R* has a date shirt, my cousin C* wears the same underwear to every job interview.  These items have worked for them before, therefore their faith will make them work again.  This is the real power of talisman. 

What’s your magic thing?

My Diamond Shoes

See the black slip-on shoes I wore yesterday?  I had decided they were too conservative for me, and put them in the bag of clothes I was preparing for the Sallies. A few days later, while decorating a cake for a friend (yes, I baked), I had a brainwave.  I fished the shoes out of the Sallies bag and took to them with my silver marker.  Now they are quirky and asymmetrical and I’m always being complimented on them.  And nobody else has a pair.

I tend to move on from what I see as my mistakes quite quickly.  If things aren’t working out, I just look to the next thing. No fault.  No looking back.  Many times in my life this has been beneficial – keeping me agile and ahead of the curve. An equal number of times, it has meant that I have missed out on a wonderful experience, person or thing.  I have thrown away perfectly good jobs, shoes, people, things…

The question is, how can I identify the things that have potential to become something wonderful – in other words, the things worth persevering with – and not waste time on the things that are not, and never will be what I want? 

A sense for diamonds in the rough is not one that I happen to possess (although I’m pretty good at spotting duds in the raw).  I need a checklist.  Anyone got one?

Naked feet and the news

I’ve decided to forego the shoes today.  I got up early, feeling a little seedy as a result of too many Fly Buys Coolers last night.  And I did wear shoes – but they were a repeat of shoes I’ve already worn this month. 

So now it’s Saturday night, I’m exhausted from running around in my repeat shoes all day, and I find myself curled up in my armchair, barefoot, watching the news. 

How the heck did that happen?  I NEVER used to stay home on Saturday night! Yet tonight, I turned down a very civilised dinner invitation to have cup noodles in my pyjamas in front of the flat screen.  Sheesh. Middle age!  But at least there’s naked feet on display right?

Practical and a bit worse for wear

There was a challenge on the noticeboard at work, asking “How do we make Fly Buys cooler?”  This was my team’s response:

Fly Buys Cooler
1 part Vodka
1 part Cointreau
1 Berocca Performance
Cranberry Juice