A dazzling place I never knew

Why didn’t anyone tell me about the PATH? Like really tell me about it. Not tell me that it’s a way to get from Union to Dundas without going outside or mention that it happens to have some stores in it, but take my stubborn ass down there to witness the underground shopping smorgasbord that it is.

Seriously, I had NO idea.

Two colleagues took me down there today and I was amazed. There’s an entire world underground. And I realize that everyone else in Toronto already knows this, that everyone else in Toronto has had occasion to use it and that it's totally old hat, but it’s new, awesome and fiscally dangerous to me.

Like it wasn’t hard enough working this close to the Eaton Centre.

Today's sing-a-long song: "A Whole New World" from Aladdin

HRH

Genetically pre-disposed to buying uselss crap at Canadian Tire

herhighnessness: Canadian Tire is a dangerous place.
drvesmir: Oh yeah?
drvesmir: What did you get?
herhighnessness: Ant traps, Christmas ribbon, small garbage bags for the green bin and glow sticks.
drvesmir: Glow sticks?
drvesmir: Are we raving?
herhighnessness: I almost also purchased decorative garland for the front door, a large glass measuring cup and dryer sheets.
drvesmir: I'm still confused about the glow sticks.
herhighnessness: I'm not entirely sure why I got them.
drvesmir: OK. That's fair.
herhighnessness: It just seemed like something we should have around.
drvesmir: Why didn't you get the dryer sheets?
drvesmir: That sounds like something we would use.
herhighnessness: They didn't have any.
herhighnessness: But we need them.
drvesmir: Gotcha.
herhighnessness: I'm rather amazed that you're not getting upset with me for buying more Christmas ribbon.
drvesmir: I expect it now.
drvesmir: No use fighting it.
drvesmir: I'm sure I'll buy something ridiculous soon.
herhighnessness: :)
herhighnessness: it's really nice!
drvesmir: I'm sure it is.

HRH

Shocked they even let me play

Because the collective lives of my very close friends (and bridal party: imagine that) seem to be coming more jet set by the year it was going to be challenging to get us all in one place to do the annual secret Santa draw, so Mike geniusly found an online Secret Santa manager, meaning that holiday shopping would not be hampered by the current physical distances between us.

So today we got our e-mails that it was on, and like some kind of primordial on/off switch I went from fairly sane person, to totally obsessed with trying to find out who has who in the draw. I'm not good with mysteries, secrets or surprises. I just HAVE to know. Last year I got, maybe a tad, obsessed with trying to find it all out. And I know that it doesn't matter in any way. It doesn't affect the time and thought we put into the gifts we get each other or the joy we share in opening them together. No bearing whatsoever, yet here I am. All twitchy and curious.

And I told myself I wasn't going to be all insane about it this year and it's been, like, 10 minutes and I'm already pestering people:

herhighnessness: Is that who you have???
feelafel: not telling
herhighnessness: I just thought since you brought it up...
feelafel: just stop
herhighnessness: But that would be a rookie mistake.
feelafel: :)
feelafel: unless, of course, I knew you'd think it was a rookie mistake
feelafel: and thus double blinded on purpose!

I should really just chill out and start shopping already.

HRH

The healing itch

I bought this really cute pair of black flats this weekend at Feet First. I bought them at a smart shoe store and pair a fair price for them. A price that should mean that they are well made shoes. And I think they actually are well made, it's just that my feet aren't well made for them.

I wore them on Monday and I wore them on Wednesday. Wednesday night I had four large holes missing from my outer layer of skin on my heels. I blister so easily it's not even funny. During the basketball years I had blisters on my arches and backs of my heels each the size of a silver dollar from a gorgeous pair of Air Jordans. I remember at basketball camp I had to do this thing where my feet would be taped, a trainer would put this green friction reducing goop on my heel, I'd put on a pair of socks, another helping of green goop and then a second pair of socks. This was the only way I could wear shoes because of those blisters.

You see, not only are my feet HUGE, but they're also wide. Those Air Jordans were slim shoes, much like how those flats are slim shoes. I really should have known when they fit both Dawn and Laura so well, my friends of slender feet, that it would be a skinning experience for me.

So I have these blisters. Two on the very back of the heel and two on the outer edge of the heel. Luckily there are all kinds of products on the market now for healing and coping with blisters. What I'm trying now after an unsuccessful stint with simple bandaids and Dr. Scholl's blister pads are these new Band-Aid Advanced healing bandages.

They tell you when you put these things on to try to leave them on as long as possible as they try to function like actual scabs on the skin. Unlike scabs, they are padded and protect the wound from further damage. I'm not sure how they work, but something on the surface of the bandage puffs up like it's full of foam or something like that. It's hard to explain. It looks strange, but it doesn't hurt and it helps to heal the wounds faster.

You know, so I can wear the shoes again soon.

HRH

Worth every penny so far

The shoes made it safely to Canada last week and I was only slightly mocked by Phil for having big feet. But since he was my shoe mule I'll let him get away with referring to the shoes as canoes this one time.

I have them, they actually fit and thank goodness I got them when I did. They're now completely sold out in my size at Zappos. All that remains is testing them with the actual dress, something I'll do in a couple of weeks. No rush of course since Zappos has a 365-day return policy (Why? Why? Why only in the US?).

They're awfully pretty shoes. I sometimes just go into the guest room and stare at them. Last night I tried them on again and noticed yet another fantastic bonus: They make my feet look smaller!!!

They have to be the right shoes. They just have to be.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Move Your Feet" by Junior Senior

HRH

Operation Shoe Lift

What a small and strange world we live in. Who knew that a few months ago when I was connecting a colleague with Shaver and friend for some Metric tickets that I would be helping the kind man who is bringing the latest attempt at the right wedding footwear across the border into Canada, all part of a deal brokered by Mike?

Also, please allow me to pause and tell you all about how totally kick-ass the customer service is from Zappos. I place the order yesterday for the last pair they have in my size (typical), reading that it will take 4 business days to reach the chosen US location. I call this morning to see if it's at all possible that they can be sent earlier. The Shoe Mule is leaving for Canadaland on Wednesday so it was rather key that the shoes be there by Tuesday. So I call them and ask if I can pay for expidited shipping and they offer to upgrade me from the free four-day shipping option to the two-day shipping option at no charge, meaning the shoes will get there on Monday. "Fantastic!" I say, pleased as punch.

Then I get an e-mail from them about two hours later telling me that they've further upgraded the order to overnight shipping, again, for no charge. So the shoes will be delivered tomorrow. And I didn't even have to give them a sob story about these being the shoes I'm trying to find for my wedding or how they have to be flats or the right tone and colour or that I have pontoons for feet. No pleading required. Just great service.

Retail outlets take notice of what real customer service is, Zappos please start selling your products in Canada and God Bless America while we're at it.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Hunter" by Bjork.

HRH

Keeping the universe in balance one shopping experience at a time

So wedding dress shopping has been very fruitful. I'm down to a couple of lovely options and will be making the final call with the help of the one who's dressed me the most in my life, my mother, next weekend. Indeed I am flying high on the experience of actually fitting into dresses and looking good in them. It's cool and makes all the work worth it.

But something occurred to me today. You can lose all the weight you like to fit into the clothes you love, but no matter what you do, you can never shrink your feet. I've accepted that the chances of me finding beautiful shoes in my size for my wedding day are really slim, if not absolutely impossible. It's not an easy need to meet. I have size 11 feet and I want as little heel as possible. I'd also like to wear shoes that aren't going to kill me with pain, which rules out most of the cute shoes out there. I don't think I could be further from the wedding norm. Which is basically what I'm striving for in most cases, except that most shoe companies provide shoes for the critical mass, aka: the wedding norm.

It's good that I'm wearing a long dress and really, no one is going to be looking at my feet. That helps. But keep in mind that I'm a shoe person. M and I have closets full of shoes, closets. It seems incongruous that for a day when I really want to look great that I cover my feet in something orthopaedic looking because it's the only thing that meets my requirements.

It may seem early to be concerned about this, but I've learned from the sales people that scolded me about leaving shoe shopping too late. I really do need to start shopping for summer shoes months before other people do because those elevens go quickly. If any of you are out and about and see a shoe (or even two) that's a one inch heel or so, white (ivory or off-white, even better), classy and just plain beautiful, let me know. I have a feeling this search is going to be a group exercise.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Move Your Feet" by Junior Senior

HRH

It's all for me?

Turns out it is true. Shopping for wedding dresses one of the most fun things you can do. Hot damn I looked good in those things!

HRH

Sitting like adults do

Yesterday seemed like it would be a somewhat normal day. M and I had some venues to check out for the wedding, my parents stopped by on their way off to sunnier shores, M and I spent an obscene amount of time at an HMV... Everything pretty much normal.

Save a very serendipitous series of things. M's step-brother and his wife gave us a Pottery Barn gift certificate as an engagement present and we suddenly found ourselves with a block of time to kill before meeting friends for dinner. We stopped by the Bloor Street Pottery Barn on a lark, hoping to pick up a nice set of cheese knives or something like that. We walk in the front door of the store and there on sale are floor models of a lovely couch, chair and ottoman. Like obscenely on sale.

We've been looking for a new couch for some time and it looked like we were never going to find something that was the right style, size or price. And then poof! there it was. Really lovely pieces in a nice neutral shade, so discounted that after tax all three pieces cost less than one piece at regular price. Kick ass. Sure there is a bit of damage to them, but they're in really good condition.

Even better they wanted them gone as soon as possible, so we had them delivered by the city's most amazing mover this morning who expertly removed doors, frames and other impediments to get it all upstairs to our apartment. Out old couches were taken to a shelter for battered women, as they're still in pretty decent shape.

So here we are with our first couch and chair set that isn't a hand-me-down from family. Not that getting hand-me-downs from family didn't save our seating skin for a long time, but this is a nice step in the whole growing up/adulthood/independent thing. Every time we walk into the living room now we both emit a sound of joy (M's being a satisfied "mmmm" and me a squeal of joy).

Today's sing-a-long song: "Part of the Furniture" by Catatonia

HRH

Wow I found it!

Who would have thought it would be so easy finding the perfect wedding dress... if I was walking down the isle to November Rain and secretly plotting my own death.

Sweet lucifer there's a lot of crap out there. Still I am confident that I will prevail.

HRH

Why did I choose white?

So I'm enjoying my new lululemon Scuba hoodie. I'm a huge hoodie fan and this is so well designed and so comfortable. But it's also very white. I know all the reasons why I bought it in white. It looks amazing, it's outside my usual comfort zone and combines very easily for layering. But it's white.

White? Me? Dirt? Remember dirt? Was a white hoodie really a good idea for an obsessive-compulsive perfectionist?

I've just realized that I'm going to have to carry a lint brush and a Tide-to-go pen with me at all times. I've done stranger things to have things look right.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Sweetest Perfection" by Depeche Mode

HRH

Something I Can Never Have

Back in September, I was fawning over a pair of stretch cord jeans I saw in the Land's End catalogue and I didn't buy them. Yes, I get the Land's End catalogue and I've gotten many good things from them, namely bathing suits for the very, very long torsoed and the softest, warmest, most-puffiest blue parka ever, so stop judging me.

Anyway, I wanted these cords in lake blue, but at the potential time of ordering thought that something like walnut would ultimately be more practical. So the walnut ones are backordered until November and I say "Meh, I'm sure I'll find stretch cords before November," and opted not to backorder.

Here we are at the end of November and my cord search has been far less than fruitful. There were attempts made, one of which witnessed by Tash at a Jacob Connection, where she was kind enough not to giggle hysterically at me in what looked like high-water pants. No cords for me there sir. No sir indeedy.

I've admitted defeat and I returned to Land's End today. The people sympathetic to body types small are large, short and long. And I opted to follow my initial attraction to the lake blue cords and I am betrayed.

"We're sorry, this item is no longer available."

Now don't be confused. It's not that the cords aren't available at all. You can still get them in all kinds of other colours... just not in lake blue, dark chartreuse or true navy. I'll be honest here, I was going nowhere near the chartreuse or the navy, but why did my beloved lake blue have to go away? I blame the photo. It's a good photo. Makes you want to don a chestnut coloured sweater, walk in the country and be one of those natural beauties.

It's entirely possible that I am far too susceptible to the persuasive powers of advertising.

I also blame the other tall girls for getting there first, and I admit that I'm totally in the wrong with this blame, but that's not going to stop me. It never has before. These pants are totally available in the "short people" sizes, but again, being tall has bitten me in the ass. I guess I used all my size karma up with those boots this weekend.

I am saddened by this, but I am going to re-frame it. I have saved money, and that is always a wonderful things. Also, this could be the universe's way of telling me that buying pants on the Internet is just a plain bad idea. I may have completely dodged a bullet on that one.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Corduroy" by Pearl Jam

HRH

Very much of the good

My mother is in town this weekend, which means copious amounts of food are being consumed, a copious amount of shopping is being done and a general overall feeling of joy and goodness has infused my days.

Also, I have more boots. I was slightly scolded by the salesman at Brown's for leaving boot shopping so late. According to him, I got lucky, since all the size 11s are usually gone in October. He even told me what months I should start my shoe shopping for summer (March! Can you believe it). However, it found exactly what I wanted. A pair of warm, lined, water proof, stylish and barely heeled winter boots. They are heavenly.

To add to all this joy, I had sushi for dinner and M is further proving that he is the best boyfriend ever by letting me watch Grease 2 on TV.

HRH