Laces, Leggings, and Good Days

I wore real tennis shoes today for the first time in probably 6 months. They had laces, and I wore socks. This is not only shocking to me, but to anyone who knows me.

Micheal walked into math class this morning and sat down next to me like he does everyday. Class had already started so I got his attention by poking at his arm. He looked at me, and I flicked my eyes towards my shoes while positioning my right foot to show off the piece of attire that was far from my usual ballerina-type flats. Micheal clutched his hands to his chest in a lame attempt of mimicking a heart attack, then whispered, "It's too early in the morning for you to be shocking me like that!" Hahaha. I adore that guy.

Keith looked at my outfit today and proclaimed that my attire looked like that of 2003... Whatever that's supposed to mean...

In other news, has anybody heard that annoying radio commercial for a new pill called "Good Days?" It starts out with a cynical woman narrator:

"Look at how many pills we take everyday! Pills for our skin. Pills for our heart..."

And already I'm thinking, "Crap! She's right! I do take a lot of pills everyday. She sounds very disapproving and I should probably cut back.... " I run through the list in my head... I start listing all the daily vitamins and supplements I take and get all the way to vicodin for the occassional back pain, and then the enthusiastically narrator butts in on my thoughts:

"Well now you can take a pill just to have a GOOD DAY!! And it's called GOOD DAYS!!" She goes on to tell of how she and a group of researchers have just engineered this magic pill.

Wait, what? Didn't you just tell me I take too many pills? Now I'm confused. Someone needs to tell this chick to fire her advertising writer, because that is a horrible gimmick and you made me feel guilty for no reason. Pssshhh.

But anyways, back to the shoes and socks discussion. Lately I've realized that I don't really enjoy wearing pants either. Since it's socially unacceptable to run around pantsless, my wardrobe of leggings and long shirts has been multiplying. Jackie would label these kinds of things as Weird Jacee Items... or something along those lines.

I will never forget a conversation between Jackie and I one time while thrift store shopping. (On a side note, I truly do enjoy having a shopping buddy because she keeps me from buying essentially atrocious items that I apparently think are sensational). So anyways, we're shopping, and I hold up an item of clothing and ask how she feels about it. She shakes her head. I take one last look at it before abandoning it back on the rack it came from, and with a shrug I say, "I would wear it."

She looks at me like a parent who has just let their 1st grader dress themselves for picture day so that their young, creative personality shines through in the portrait (I met a lot of this kind of parents back in the day when I was doing school photos). With a big, accepting, friendly smile, she looks up from the clothing rack and says with a slight head tilt, "I know you would. "

We still joke about that, and now if she says, "Oh you look cute!" I always have to ask the follow-up question: "Cute in a normal way? Or in like a Jacee-never-matches-anyway-and-you've-come-to-accept-it-by-now kind of way?" That always gets a smile.

That was quite a tangent to go off on, but as Mister Roger's would say, it's another day in the neighborhood, and that means I need to get back to work. Ciao.