Shoes.

Completing the unfinished business of the day I met Eddie Bauer Guy, I went back to the Clarks store and ordered my Steve Madden shoes last night during a really fun shopping excursion with a newly blond-streaked Vic.

Vic ended up getting a cool retro striped dress, as well, at the Ross store, and she looked all kickass and busty in it. If I were a girl, I'd want breasts like hers, even though people at her job who don't understand and are afraid of her breasts make her feel unnecessarily self-conscious of them. She should be proud. It's a nice rack.

Anyway, about my shoes.

We were supposed to see WHALE RIDER last night, which for some bizarre, fascinating reason is playing at the Mall of Georgia movie theater but probably only for a week, but Vic was barely able to contain her hyperactivity when we met at a bookstore. She told me she wanted to go dress shopping instead, for we have fun when we do that. I eventually agreed, though I really want to share the joy that is WHALE RIDER with the world, and we ended up at a better-than-average strip mall. (I'm sorry, but the inclusion of a DSW can upgrade any strip mall.)

Sadly, the DSW failed us last night. Vic wasn't able to find any cute shoes that managed to have toes.

There's a mandate at the mental health facility where she works that all the women's shoes must have toes. Apparently, concerned more that the patients with fetishes would get out-of-control, the facility isn't aware at how severely the choice of cute women's shoes are cut when a toe mandate is put into place. Mandating toes (in the middle of summer, mind you) limits the cute shoe choices about 95 percent. The toe mandate seems unreasonably cruel, Vic and I agreed while perusing the DSW, looking sadly upon the toed-shoe selection.

So we ended up back at the Clarks store in the Mall of Georgia, where Charity, the same clerk waited on me from Eddie Bauer Guy day, was working. While Vic perused some really nice Mary Janes that looked both cute and comfortable (yet weren't in the right color and were a bit expensive), I tried on my Steve Madden Rascals again to see if I wanted to order the shoe. (I have to order them, for I wanted the brown-on-brown, but they only had the black-on-grey in my size. The brown-on-brown are better, and I can wear the brown-on-brown to my bookstore job without outwardly violating our shoe dress code.)

They were comfortable and nice, and the 8-and-a-halfs I need seemed to work well on both of my feet, though my cerebral palsy causes me to have two different shoe sizes. (The left foot is about a half-size smaller.)

So I ordered the shoes. And trying to get a photo of them to send to Jenipher, because this is what we write each other about in the middle of the day, I went to the Steve Madden website and found them cheaper than the price at Clark's last night, which I've already paid. (I thought they'd be more expensive online because the Steve Madden store in the mall was more expensive. Oh, silly me, shouldn't I know by now that everything's cheaper online.)

Anyway, I'm getting a cute pair of comfortable shoes. Vic's thinking of protesting her work's toe mandate, and she's got a cool dress. And I didn't step on Charity the clerk's fingers this time.

Here's what they look like. It's like a movie about my shoes, and you can make them move around and around.