Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Ugg. It's a New Year.

I've decided to forgo all the "What I did over my Christmas Vacation" nonsense, and nixt discussing the list of resolutions that I will only loosely adhere to (the one in which I resolve to act more like a grown up was actually thwarted pre-New Years when I received a life-size Hannah Montana cut out for Christmas, as well as a 2009 Hello Kitty calendar, which is now hanging in my office).

Instead, I'll talk about whatever the fuck I want. The headline event in my life at the moment is:

Kate Searches for the Perfect Pair of Boots.

It's been an epic search thus far, extending certainly back to when the snow started falling in November, and perhaps before that. The last truly satisfying pair of boots I purchased was in the 10th grade. I still have them. They're shot to shit, and horribly out of style, but I just can't part with them. I think I'll have them bronzed and display them on the coffee table.

I have purchased at least 3 pairs of boots since it came time to pack up my flip flops for the winter, all of which left something to be desired. Ideally, I'd like two perfect pairs: one to make me look trendy and professional at work, and one to make me look trendy yet won't add to my drunken stumbling the rest of the time.

My dilemma is two fold: First of all, I love long pants (a result of being too tall and too thin growing up and always having pant length issues), but hate hate hate hate when they get wet at the bottom due to this clusterfuck that we call winter. My boots must somehow magically solve this problem, that is until the day I carelessly cast them aside to bask in the glory of my beloved flip flops once more.

Secondly, I have a moral problem with Ugg boots, yet a secret desire to wear them. They're so fuzzy inside. They protect my pant bottoms from the evils of the weather. They're flat, and thus save me from turning an ankle on my long, drunken walks home from the bar.

But they're also so fucking trendy. Not even new trendy either. They're three years past their day in the sun within the fashion world, yet the "it" thing in this depressing city in which I live. They call to mind all those girls in high school that I hated. They're ugly, yet not ugly enough to fulfill my lust for truly ugly boots.

Thus, I am at somewhat of a standstill. And my experimentation is getting costly. With student loans knocking at my door, I am thrown yet another obstacle on my quest. I'm almost ready to toss this one into the Fuck It Bucket and move to Mexico. Then I can wear flip flops all year round.

Not the most exciting of stories, I know, but all the same, important. You can't imagine the amount of footwear related bitching I've been doing lately. In closing all I have to say is:

Dear Dakota Fanning,

I don't care if you're starting to look sorta like a normal person. You'll always be a creepy little girl to me.


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