If The Shoe Fits..

I love shoes. There’s something so satisfying about getting a new pair. The best part is that I’ve been the same shoe size for as long as I can remember. My clothes may run the gamut from small to huge but with shoes it’s a sure bet that if I try on a size 8, it’s gonna fit.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve downsized the heel a bit. OK, a lot. I used to love wearing stilettos. How I ever walked in those things is a mystery to me. The idea of wearing stilettos today makes me think I may need oxygen. There was a time when I could actually run while wearing 4 inch heels. I think that if I tried that today I’d be in traction.

Sneakers are out of the question. Sneakers are for working out. Period. Going for a healthy walk? Fine. Wear sneakers. Going to walk around a mall? No sneakers. Absolutely not. Ballet flats and stacked heel boots are my footwear of choice.

And while we’re on the subject of boots…forget the UGGS. Seriously unattractive. I don’t quite get the huge appeal of these clumsy looking foot mittens. They may be comfortable but seriously? I’d take a cool looking pair of cowboy boots over those ANYTIME!

These days I do a lot of my shoe shopping online. Yes, that’s right. Zappos. Best company. Ever. Free shipping and free returning when the shoe doesn’t quite fit. Zappos is not a discount site but I’ve found some decent stuff on sale every now and then. The selection is insane. I’ve spent hours perusing that site. It’s not only shoes. They have everything else as well. Well, almost everything.

So there you have it. And just for the record, I do wear heels for my concerts. Just not very high ones. And as for walking around inside the house? I wear no shoes at all. Totally barefoot. Except when it’s freezing out. Then I put on fuzzy socks. Kind of like foot mittens. Just no UGGS please!

The "E" Word

Did you think I was going to say eat? No, no. That goes without say. I’m talkin’ exercise here. You know. FEEL the burn.

OK…I know. Exercise is so good for you. But, the thought of exercise makes me cranky. Yes, sure, I love to dance…especially around my kitchen while I’m cooking. I also like to walk. Especially where there are cool stores to window shop. Sex is good exercise too. Oh baby…FEEL the burn.

For so many years I belonged to a gym. And for so many years I watched these girls in their tiny, neon spandex workout clothes sweating away. I faithfully did my cardio and weight training. I know you’re supposed to feel great after a workout. I just felt tired and ready to go back to bed.

I decided to quit the gym. It wasn’t the cost. That part was easy. It was finding the time to get there. And then trying to get to work on time.

So I now have a little home gym. Weights, stationary bike, resistance stretch band. I can work out in my pajamas. Whenever I want. I love that. And I walk. It has its benefits living four houses in from the beach.

A month ago it was Patriot’s day here in Massachusetts. This also means the Boston Marathon. I have never in my life run a marathon. Are you kidding? I’ve never run. Period. I give those people a lot of credit. The day after the marathon there was a mass exit out of Boston via the airport. All these very toned and fit people coming into my store. I felt unfit and flabby. I said to myself, self, this has to change. And so, I have been doing my home workouts. And as much as I truly dislike exercise, I have to admit, I feel a bit more toned.

I’ll never make the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, but then, it’s been years since I’ve actually attempted to put on a bathing suit.

One of these days…

Hey, as of this post I’m down 47 pounds. It’s all good!

Don't Tell Mr. Bell

Alexander Graham Bell never saw it coming. It truly baffles the mind. To think that phone technology has come so far in such a short amount of time.

I remember rotary phones. We had several in our house when I was a kid. They were attached to the walls. In the kitchen, in the hallway between my sister’s and my bedrooms (we had to share it-oh my), in the basement and a princess phone in my parent’s bedroom. You put your finger in the holes corresponding to the numbers and you twirled. Some women used pencils or pens to twirl so as not to destroy their nails. The dial made a cool clicking sound. The phones had cords. Long cords. My mother could walk half way around the house holding onto the phone from the kitchen. She could cradle that phone in her neck and cook dinner, fold laundry, iron, empty the dishwasher and bark orders at us all while talking on the phone.

Today’s phones, as modern and streamlined as they are always seem to cause problems. First…they get lost. Phone is ringing. Where is it? I miss so many calls because I can’t find the damn house phone. Oh, there it is. Stuffed between the cushions in the couch. Or hidden under a pile of papers. Oh no, the battery is low. Must dock it. But where is the phone??

And then there is the mobile phone/blackberry/iphone/smartphone. Mr. Bell is either rolling over in his grave or saying bravo and giving us a standing ovation.

What did we ever do without cell phones? Really, think about it. Back in the day there were an abundance of pay phones. My parents always told me to carry a dime in case I needed to make a call. Not so the case today. Public pay phones are pretty scarce. We need to carry cell phones. It’s necessary and responsible.

 

Today’s cell phones pretty much do everything except cook the dinner. But you can find an app for making restaurant reservations so I guess that covers it. My cell phones (American and Italian) are pretty basic. I don’t want all the bells and whistles. I have too many other things to do besides checking my facebook 5000 times a day.

My first cellular was gigantic. Almost the size of a regular phone. Over the years the phones got smaller, then larger again. All I need is to be able to call and text, take a few pics now and then and use the alarm clock when needed. Basic. I don’t really like talking on the cell phone. It’s not comfortable. Texting is easier. It would be easier if I had a qwerty keyboard on my phone, but I’m due for an upgrade, so I just might go that route. Keep it on the small side. No smart phone for me, thanks. No apps. Just a decent calendar.

And now let’s talk about cell phone etiquette. I DON’T NEED TO LISTEN TO YOUR CONVERSATION. I don’t want to know who broke up with whom. I don’t want to know what stocks you’re buying. I don’t give a crap. In the stores, restaurants, hair salons and just about everywhere you go people are having loud conversations on their phones. Why is it loud? Because cell phones do not have great sound connections. That’s a given. You move 5 feet in one direction and you lose the connection or it goes fuzzy or fades in and out.

My biggest pet peeve is when I am trying to help a customer and they refuse to get off their cell phone. Talking the entire time during the transaction. And so I talk louder. I know, I’m evil. If you are one of those people, well, put the fucking phone down. It’s terribly rude. I actually had a customer tell me to shush because they couldn’t hear their conversation. Are you kidding me?? It’s a wonder I didn’t throw a book at them. Yeah, that woulda hurt.

Take the conversation outside. These people are so engrossed in their conversations. I wonder what would happen if I doubled the price on their purchase. Would they even notice?

Cell phones are here to stay. For now. Who knows what the future will bring? And in a few weeks I’ll be looking for a new one. Purple perhaps?

With Pen in Hand

 People used to write letters. By hand. With a pen. Yes, we all know that in today’s fast paced world writing by hand is extremely time consuming.

Writing letters by hand, with a pen is a lost art. It’s from a bygone era.

It takes time and concentration to put pen to paper. It’s a process.

I remember getting letters from my parents when I was at summer camp. Long letters with all sorts of news and sometimes newspaper clippings as well. And remember pen pals?

My grandparents and later just my grandmother traveled the world, sending postcards from everywhere. It was always exciting to receive a postcard from someplace exotic. Even as an adult, my parents would send me postcards from anyplace they traveled to. To this day, my mother still writes letters by hand as she is computer clueless by choice. For her, it’s relaxing to sit and write by hand.

Most folks may not be hand-writing letters, but they are writing. Yes, with pens. And why do I know this? I’ll tell you why (you knew I was going to say that). Every day I sell beautiful pens and journals. In my store, along with the 1000’s of books, we sell journals and pens. Not just a spiral notebook and a ballpoint pen. We’re talking fine paper and fountain pens. There’s something about writing with a fountain pen. It evokes a Jane Austen era. Romance. Seduction. Love. What’s not to like?

So the other day my darling keyboard player, my dear friend and my Italian child Sammy, came up with a stellar idea: let’s send each other handwritten postcards once a month. To tell the truth, I was a bit surprised by this notion. It’s been many years since I’ve received a postcard. Or sent one. I thought, sure, why not? I’m not sure how long it takes to send a postcard to Italy but hey, this could be really fun!

Now I need to find cool postcards. I’m sure they exist. I just haven’t bought one in many years. And no, not Boston postcards. We’ll leave that for the tourists.

This could be a whole new fad. I’ll let you know how it goes!