The morning dew glistens, the smell of wet grass fills my nostrils, the birds chirp happily and the golf carts hum as they whiz by on the concrete paths. With my Starbucks cup filled with the sweet nectar of coffee beans, I sit near the clubhouse nursing a hangover, watching my husband take practice strokes and waiting for the loudspeaker to call out "McBride Twosome, McBride Twosome."
I review my outfit for golf-safety and style. No loose strings, open sweater or dangly straps to tie myself up in mid-swing. My hair is pulled into a pony-tail and bobby-pins to avoid face-whipping or temporary blindness by renegade strands. Pink Bermuda shorts say, "I respect the dress code...but I'm not wearing boring khaki shorts" and a white Ralph Lauren t-shirt says, "This is all I can afford at Ralph Lauren....and I bought it 10 pounds ago." Hmmm...need a new golf shirt. My running shoes look a bit awkward and I realize the next purchase I need to make (now that my irons, woods, putter and bag have been secured) is golf shoes. Hmm, I wonder if they make pink golf shoes? Or maybe some that kind of look like Keens, all strappy and sporty. Or some sandals so I don't get tan lines...I'm sure there's lots of options. I review the spouse's outfit....he too needs new golf shoes. "McBride Twosome" bellows from the clubhouse and we're off!
I stand at the red markers on the women's tee. Shoulders square, feet in line, knees bent slightly, head down. I'm feeling quite knowledgeable about golf and have a sneaking suspicion that I'm a golfing prodigy of some kind. Certain that I'm about to impress the spouse and all other golfers on the course with my natural ability...I swing back and Bam!
I actually hit the ball! Oh my God, I hit it and it went....about 20 yards. Shit! Embarrassed by the fact that I even have a golf cart to drive me to my ball...I wave the spouse on and walk the miserably short distance. I stand over the ball and think, “this time I'm gonna do it right.” I focus....I swing.....And.....I miss. Whipped around by own force, I suddenly feel pain...Ouch!
With my ego bruised and a possible shoulder-injury, I line up to hit again. This time...I hit it! Horray! It goes much farther, on the ground, and straight-ish. Not bad! One more swing to get me on the green.
I walk to the ball, the spouse looking at me from the green, which he’s been on for at least the last 5 minutes. He yells out, "Sandwedge!" I think, "Got it - the one with the 'S' on it” ...see I AM knowledgeable about golf! He then yells out "Don't overswing!"
Puh! Overswing!! Is he joking?? I don't think that's possible...its taken me three strokes to get about 110 yards. Overswing...haha...thanks for the confidence, honey! So I pull back and whack it! .....Woah! Its up in the air, flying towards the green, flying....over the green......finally it drops down in some tall grass well beyond my intended landing spot. This game is really getting to be annoying.
Avoiding eye-contact with the spouse, I walk behind the green and see my ball just barely poking one-side out of the surprisingly thick, tall grass. I realize I am now on an uphill. Standing at an angle, lining up the Sandwedge again - only this time I’m planning a quarter-swing - I try to balance and hit the ball simultaneously. Plunk! Right on the green! Wa-hoo!!
Smiling, with my confidence renewed, I grab the putter thinking “All I need to do is get the ball in the hole. This I can do. I saw Happy Gilmore, all I need to do is go my happy place, line up, swing back and tap-tap-tapparooo.” And I tap-tap-tapparoo'd it right past the hole, off the green. Ugh! Really...??!?!?!?
....I’ll save you the rest of the details about putting.... lets just say I ended up knocking it in at around 14 strokes (did I mention this was a Par 3). The game went on...and thankfully I did get better. I didn't go above 8 strokes after that first hole, so I got that goin’ for me. And on my last Par 3, it was in the hole (that’s what she said) in only 4 strokes....Bogie!...and MUCH better than 14!
At the end of the day, I learned that I like golf...unfortunately I have no natural ability and didn’t impress anyone with my skillz on the first try but I think I'll get there with lot more practice....and a new pair of golf shoes.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Friday, November 21, 2008
Sole-Mate
Over these last few years I have been blessed to live in boot bliss. I've waited with anticipation every fall for the weather to turn just enough so my favorite black boots could reemerge from my closet to make my winter wardrobe complete. You all know the boots I'm talking about. The kind no self-respecting girl of fashion can live without. As much of a necessity as a little black cocktail dress or the perfect pair of jeans. I'm talking about the perfect pair of simple, pointed-toe, kitten-heel, knee-high, black leather boots.
But after wearing my beautiful boots on an almost daily basis for 5 winters they began looking quite worse for wear. Over the course of my relationship with these boots, I had the heel-caps replaced at least 6 times and the soles replaced once, but they just got to a point were there was no breathing life back into them. SOOOO sad and depressing to come to that realization.
Needless to say, after mourning the loss of my love for an appropriate length of time, I've been on a mission to find boot love again. But how do you replace a love lost? Will the new ever be as good as the first? The leather as supple, the heel as sexy, the toe as powerful? What's a girl to do?
After months of searching, my hope of finding love again was dwindling. So, last week, it must have been fate that sent a 25% off coupon for Cole Haan to my inbox (or at least some really smart marketing guy named Fate, it sounds Irish, maybe he's cute... anyway). Hmmm...... might this be the answer I sought? Could I possibly find my new love in the expansive world of online retail? It was worth a shot. Besides, at this point, what did I have to loose?
I opened the link and began browsing. Nothing in the full-price section, or at least nothing under $500 (a bit too rich for my unemployed blood). When I finally clicked on the SALE tab I thought to myself there's no way the boots I dreamed of would be there. How could any company have such perfection left over that must be marked down to move. But, to my total and utter shock, there they were! The Fiona Knee-High Boots! I had found them! The perfect pair! Not only did they have the supple nappa leather, the pointy toe, the kitten heel, but Nike Air technology in the sole! It was almost too good to be true! With slightly shaking hands I crossed my fingers and checked the size availability. You could have knocked me over with a feather! They had size 5.5 (who wears that size, honestly) and size 9! My size! It was like a flashing neon sign on a dark night.... BUY ME!!!!! I couldn't say no. I added them to my cart in an instant, entered my coupon and credit card numbers and hit submit.
It all happened so fast it didn't seem real. Had I really just found my new boot-mate for life (0r at least the next few years)? Were they really on the way to my doorstep courtesy of free FedEx Ground Shipping? Really?
Flash forward to today. I arrived home from my day full of nervous anticipation to what I might find waiting for me. Would I love them? Would they love me? Were we meant to be? Would FedEx meet their online tracking promise to deliver today? I froze when I opened the door... a HUGE box. I threw my purse and coat on the dining room chair, flew back in the kitchen to grab a knife and tore into the box. There it was, that beautiful chocolate brown of a signature Cole Haan shoe-box looking back at me. Carefully I plucked it from it's packing material nest and lifted the lid. Inside, boots, perfect in every way. Almost better than I had imagined. But would my hopes and dreams of a new and stylish life with my boots be dashed in an instant with poor fit? I unzipped the left boot, closed my eyes and slipped it on. It must have been what Cinderella felt when her prince charming placed the glass slipper back on her foot. Bliss. On went the right boot. Equal bliss. But the true test, walking. WOW. It felt like walking in tennis shoes, really stylish, sexy, boot-like tennis shoes that look nothing like tennis shoes! That was it, I was in love again.
My faith in the world of online retail shopping has been renewed. Today I found my "sole-mate"!
But after wearing my beautiful boots on an almost daily basis for 5 winters they began looking quite worse for wear. Over the course of my relationship with these boots, I had the heel-caps replaced at least 6 times and the soles replaced once, but they just got to a point were there was no breathing life back into them. SOOOO sad and depressing to come to that realization.
Needless to say, after mourning the loss of my love for an appropriate length of time, I've been on a mission to find boot love again. But how do you replace a love lost? Will the new ever be as good as the first? The leather as supple, the heel as sexy, the toe as powerful? What's a girl to do?
After months of searching, my hope of finding love again was dwindling. So, last week, it must have been fate that sent a 25% off coupon for Cole Haan to my inbox (or at least some really smart marketing guy named Fate, it sounds Irish, maybe he's cute... anyway). Hmmm...... might this be the answer I sought? Could I possibly find my new love in the expansive world of online retail? It was worth a shot. Besides, at this point, what did I have to loose?
I opened the link and began browsing. Nothing in the full-price section, or at least nothing under $500 (a bit too rich for my unemployed blood). When I finally clicked on the SALE tab I thought to myself there's no way the boots I dreamed of would be there. How could any company have such perfection left over that must be marked down to move. But, to my total and utter shock, there they were! The Fiona Knee-High Boots! I had found them! The perfect pair! Not only did they have the supple nappa leather, the pointy toe, the kitten heel, but Nike Air technology in the sole! It was almost too good to be true! With slightly shaking hands I crossed my fingers and checked the size availability. You could have knocked me over with a feather! They had size 5.5 (who wears that size, honestly) and size 9! My size! It was like a flashing neon sign on a dark night.... BUY ME!!!!! I couldn't say no. I added them to my cart in an instant, entered my coupon and credit card numbers and hit submit.
It all happened so fast it didn't seem real. Had I really just found my new boot-mate for life (0r at least the next few years)? Were they really on the way to my doorstep courtesy of free FedEx Ground Shipping? Really?
Flash forward to today. I arrived home from my day full of nervous anticipation to what I might find waiting for me. Would I love them? Would they love me? Were we meant to be? Would FedEx meet their online tracking promise to deliver today? I froze when I opened the door... a HUGE box. I threw my purse and coat on the dining room chair, flew back in the kitchen to grab a knife and tore into the box. There it was, that beautiful chocolate brown of a signature Cole Haan shoe-box looking back at me. Carefully I plucked it from it's packing material nest and lifted the lid. Inside, boots, perfect in every way. Almost better than I had imagined. But would my hopes and dreams of a new and stylish life with my boots be dashed in an instant with poor fit? I unzipped the left boot, closed my eyes and slipped it on. It must have been what Cinderella felt when her prince charming placed the glass slipper back on her foot. Bliss. On went the right boot. Equal bliss. But the true test, walking. WOW. It felt like walking in tennis shoes, really stylish, sexy, boot-like tennis shoes that look nothing like tennis shoes! That was it, I was in love again.
My faith in the world of online retail shopping has been renewed. Today I found my "sole-mate"!
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Retail Therapy
And there it was, a shining beacon of red florescent light. Pulling into the parking lot, I got a thrill at the sight of those bright red circles, the capitalized font and comforting familiarity of a red and tan building. Only this building was special, this building was SUPER.
Nervously anticipating what I’d find on the other side of the automatic doors that lead you into the world of SuperTarget, I grabbed my purse, put on my shimmer lip-gloss and refrained from skipping in.
As I entered, I was stunned by the colorful displays and bright white light, I stood speechless in foyer. I turned to the right and........PURSES!!! And not just a few, but rows and rows as far as I could see.....until the rows became SHOE RACKS! Oh, what a perfect combination! Sandles, stilletos, chuck taylors, totes, clutches and handbags living together and readily accessible as you enter.....what retail genius built this place?
Frozen, at the entrance with a jubilant grin from ear to ear, planning my crusade on this aisle of pure bliss, it occurred to me suddenly, before I embarked on what was certain to be an expensive journey into pumps and satchels, I should look left. And as I turned my head, still grinning and ridiculously gleeful, I caught a glimpse of the green S.....
WHAT?! I whipped my head and, for the first time since I entered this heaven of retail necessity, I turned my body to get a better view of the unmistakable logo and green letters that spelled ..........STARBUCKS.
I gasped. Floored by the brilliance of putting a Starbucks in Target, I stood with my hand on my chest, completely still. Instantly overwhelmed with the possibilities of caffeinated shopping, I was motionless.
I could get a latte and buy a purse? I could buy shoes and get a latte? I could buy laundry detergent, vegetables, a new dress, deodorant, a movie, meat and get a latte all in the same place!!! Where have you been all my life SuperTarget!?!
As I processed all of this and looked around, it occurred to me that I had spent the better part of a minute and a half smiling and gazing at the aisles with a wide-eyed, first look at the tree full of presents on Christmas morning awe. People were walking by, standing in the check out lines and shopping in a usual manner while I stood at the door beaming like I’d just won an Oscar. A tan and red dressed clerk walked by and looked at me with a questioning eye.
I forced myself to step forward and gain composure, gave myself a full tour of the store, purchased my items and made my way out to parking lot.
Oh what joy I had! This time I did not refrain, I skipped to the car. I was so infatuated with my new found local store! "What could be better than this?!" I thought as I drove through the new shopping complex surrounding that beautiful tan and red building. As I came up to a newly developed turn-about, I swerved and slammed on the brakes. I had almost hit another car because my eyes had drifted up to something far more important than the street signs.
As if this glorious experience couldn’t get better, as if I couldn’t be anymore in love with Fort Collins and this new shopping complex.....I squealed, parked in the middle of the street, staring and the bright white lights, taking in each letter of the illuminated masterpiece that read.....DSW Shoes.
Nervously anticipating what I’d find on the other side of the automatic doors that lead you into the world of SuperTarget, I grabbed my purse, put on my shimmer lip-gloss and refrained from skipping in.
As I entered, I was stunned by the colorful displays and bright white light, I stood speechless in foyer. I turned to the right and........PURSES!!! And not just a few, but rows and rows as far as I could see.....until the rows became SHOE RACKS! Oh, what a perfect combination! Sandles, stilletos, chuck taylors, totes, clutches and handbags living together and readily accessible as you enter.....what retail genius built this place?
Frozen, at the entrance with a jubilant grin from ear to ear, planning my crusade on this aisle of pure bliss, it occurred to me suddenly, before I embarked on what was certain to be an expensive journey into pumps and satchels, I should look left. And as I turned my head, still grinning and ridiculously gleeful, I caught a glimpse of the green S.....
WHAT?! I whipped my head and, for the first time since I entered this heaven of retail necessity, I turned my body to get a better view of the unmistakable logo and green letters that spelled ..........STARBUCKS.
I gasped. Floored by the brilliance of putting a Starbucks in Target, I stood with my hand on my chest, completely still. Instantly overwhelmed with the possibilities of caffeinated shopping, I was motionless.
I could get a latte and buy a purse? I could buy shoes and get a latte? I could buy laundry detergent, vegetables, a new dress, deodorant, a movie, meat and get a latte all in the same place!!! Where have you been all my life SuperTarget!?!
As I processed all of this and looked around, it occurred to me that I had spent the better part of a minute and a half smiling and gazing at the aisles with a wide-eyed, first look at the tree full of presents on Christmas morning awe. People were walking by, standing in the check out lines and shopping in a usual manner while I stood at the door beaming like I’d just won an Oscar. A tan and red dressed clerk walked by and looked at me with a questioning eye.
I forced myself to step forward and gain composure, gave myself a full tour of the store, purchased my items and made my way out to parking lot.
Oh what joy I had! This time I did not refrain, I skipped to the car. I was so infatuated with my new found local store! "What could be better than this?!" I thought as I drove through the new shopping complex surrounding that beautiful tan and red building. As I came up to a newly developed turn-about, I swerved and slammed on the brakes. I had almost hit another car because my eyes had drifted up to something far more important than the street signs.
As if this glorious experience couldn’t get better, as if I couldn’t be anymore in love with Fort Collins and this new shopping complex.....I squealed, parked in the middle of the street, staring and the bright white lights, taking in each letter of the illuminated masterpiece that read.....DSW Shoes.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Tell me how you really feel!
Okay, so I HATE wallpaper. Really, I do! When we bought our house 5 years ago my husband said, "oh, that should be easy to take off..." RIGHT!
Wallpaper in every room. Some rooms 5 layers thick! I'm telling you, it's like an archaeological dig! Layer upon layer upon layer! It's now my theory that the Devil created wallpaper. I can picture it now, the Devil, sitting in hell on a fiery thrown, laughing to himself any time some little old lady decides... "Ooo, I think I'll get this pattern. Yes, the one with all the flowers. It's beautiful." I hate that little old lady almost as much as I hate wallpaper. Maybe I can get her to come over, stand on a ladder, spray the walls down with fabric softener & water, then scrape, peel, and pick her way through to the wall underneath.
So... as I sit here, now, in my office (the one remaining room of wallpaper) looking at the walls, I wonder if I have it in me to finally take it down. I suppose with my three week break before heading back to school I should probably suck-it-up and just do it.
I'll keep you posted of the progress. Perhaps I'll peel off some layers and it will look like the face of the devil. Then maybe I could get some of those crazy religious people to come over and pray for Jesus to take off the wallpaper Devil for me in some kind of home-improvement miracle. (Would that be so wrong?)
Wallpaper in every room. Some rooms 5 layers thick! I'm telling you, it's like an archaeological dig! Layer upon layer upon layer! It's now my theory that the Devil created wallpaper. I can picture it now, the Devil, sitting in hell on a fiery thrown, laughing to himself any time some little old lady decides... "Ooo, I think I'll get this pattern. Yes, the one with all the flowers. It's beautiful." I hate that little old lady almost as much as I hate wallpaper. Maybe I can get her to come over, stand on a ladder, spray the walls down with fabric softener & water, then scrape, peel, and pick her way through to the wall underneath.
So... as I sit here, now, in my office (the one remaining room of wallpaper) looking at the walls, I wonder if I have it in me to finally take it down. I suppose with my three week break before heading back to school I should probably suck-it-up and just do it.
I'll keep you posted of the progress. Perhaps I'll peel off some layers and it will look like the face of the devil. Then maybe I could get some of those crazy religious people to come over and pray for Jesus to take off the wallpaper Devil for me in some kind of home-improvement miracle. (Would that be so wrong?)
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