angel in devil's shoes

J convinced me to take her shopping yesterday. At the mall. And I lasted longer at the mall than I probably have in my whole life. Four and a half hours. It seems impossible but it's true. At one point she tried to convince me to buy a pair of shoes with a five inch heel and a clear plastic platform sole with pretend water and a plastic duck swimming inside. The reason she wanted me to have these shoes was not because she liked them but so she could have more reasons to laugh at me. I was feeling compliant on this shopping trip and gave in to most of her demands, but not this one.

She did manage to convince me to buy new jeans because it's terribly embarrassing to her that my jeans are threadbare and frayed. Instead she wants me to wear new ones that have been intentionally frayed because somehow that's better. I felt like she was the parent and I was the child as she tossed clothes into a fitting room at me and demanded that I come out and show her. When she found the pair she wanted me to have she was delighted to see that they were marked "Short". (I would not have been short had I bought those five inch heels.) They also said "Diva". By this point I was getting irritated. I am probably only two or three inches shorter than average and I am definitely not a diva.



*


I have a paper due today, tonight at midnight, and I have been putting this one off, and off and off. The reason is that I don't want to deal with the subject matter. I am supposed to be writing an assessment report on myself and though I would probably come across here, since all I do is write about myself, as someone who loves this kind of thing, I don't, not really. I don't write about myself because I need anyone else to understand me, I do it because it helps me understand myself. People reading it is just an accident. (I'm glad you're here, but it is.) Writing an assessment report on myself is gross. I do not want to be assessed. I do not want to read those formal assessment results from the tests I wrote in April and figure out what they mean. I really really don't.


*


Jesse moved here from the winter prairies. He told me he was going to do so last summer, and then did not. So when he told me again that he was moving here I did not believe him. Except he's just called and said he's here. Now I am thinking about whether I want to see him or not. Maybe I would want to more if I had those shoes.



*