running shoes

IT’S A BOY

Mystery begets mystery. The package has been brought inside and opened. While the contents are no longer a mystery per se, I am still bewildered as to what they are doing here.

Yes, it’s shoes. Yup, they are running shoes. Uh huh, Asics.

Blue, size twelves’. Men’s size twelves to be exact.

Huh.

What is my person, most definitely not a man, going to do with those? I mean, yes, it turns out that I am a wee bit too small, but there is no way she’d fit into these new sneakers.

Unless…

Oh my God, of course! How did I not realize it earlier? They’re for her husband! #interesting

Still, a mystery. He, most decidedly, does not run.

I guess I’ll have to introduce myself and see what’s what. Plus, its the right thing to do, be friendly and all. You know, to be polite, not because he’s cute or anything. Nope. My friendliness has nothing, at all, to do with his limeade details. Nor does his gel rump factor in my decision to say hello. I didn’t even get close enough yet to even notice his royal blue eyelets either. #blush

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When you’re not looking…

If you’re lucky enough to have had it happen to you, you will totally recognize the feeling I will try to describe for those of you have not- there are butterflies in my stomach and a smile on my toe cap, that I can. not. stop. For real. It’s borderline awkward. Everything is beautiful and lovely and all possibilities are, well, possible. I know what you’re thinking too, “someone got purchased”. Nope. I am still here, on clearance. The difference from yesterday- I kinda wanna stay now.

Last night, on my way to the dance floor, I ran into one of my new friends. She isn’t on clearance, but her rack is directly across the aisle from ours. She’s awesome, I doubt she’ll be here long enough to ever be marked down- size 6 ballet flats, tangerine in color with a medallion at her throat. Side note: I love jewelry. I just can’t carry it off, I think I am too sporty, but I am totally getting off track 😉

tangerine TB ballet flats

Anyway, Torie was having a Mexican-themed shindig (I know, I didn’t really get it either, its not even May 5th, but I am not one to say no when an event is focused around margaritas!) and I said that I would, at the very least, stop by.

So, I get there and its all quartets. Sigh. I feel crap enough being on clearance, I didn’t need to add a whole other dimension to my lack of self esteem. I mean, everyone was nice and all, but who wants to be the only single pair of shoes at a party? Not this pair. I decide that I would enjoy my margarita -frozen, salted, perfect, and partake of an enchilada. I’d mingle a bit and then head out. Simple enough, right? Except that the margaritas were slightly too perfect to stop at one and the enchiladas? Torie’s guy may be a pair of boring black Sketchers, but man, he definitely knows his way around a kitchen. I wound up staying a little longer than originally planned and all of sudden, I realized I was not the only pair of shoes sans date/spouse. Somehow, I had missed his entrance but right there in front of me was the cutest pair of sneakers I had ever laid eyelets on. And maybe it was the tequila, but suddenly, I was feeling weak in the arch.