I'm not a holiday person. Christmas music is the auditory version of the world's most boring cocktail party: all small talk, repetition and tiny thoughts. I've never seen It's a Wonderful Life. Travel, crowds, and lines give me panic attacks. I can't bake cookies, as I lack counter space, a reliable oven, or the inclination to swan about my tiny kitchen, measuring and sifting like some sort of prissified dork.
The only hooray of the season is that I can put on a pretty dress, swallow up huge portions of free booze, and call it, "networking." I have several "networking" events this weekend, for which I will need a pair of shoes.
And that's the tragedy of it all: I can't find the shoes I need. I went to the DCUSA complex in Columbia Heights with an ample budget of $25, and hit Target, Marshalls and Payless. All had satiny party shoes.
Let me correct that statement: All had satiny, strappy, OPEN-TOED party shoes. Because what I really want is to run around in 35-degree weather in sandals and no stockings, with my pasty white winter skin on full display. (My deeply tanned summer skin is a slightly less flourescent shade of white, more of a bony ecru with a hint of shimmer.) Why can't these emporia of holiday cheer stock something, I don't know, wearable during the holidays?
Garghhhh! Thanks for ruining Christmas, Target! Or, rather, thanks for being a minor logistical hiccup in my master plan to slosh my way through the weekend, lurching at people and hopefully attempting something godawful-but-hilarious, like licking my boyfriend's boss.
In the comments, please tell me I can wear Chuck Taylors with my party dress. The high-tops are dressy, right? Or are low-tops classier?