This has been a trying week. Aside from the fact that we're getting to the stage of wedding prep where everything we haven't done yet is really scary (oh God, why haven't we sorted stationery or a sound system yet?!), there's been The Great Shoe Quest.
Earlier in the summer, when I had my first wedding dress fitting, Harriet (JTA's sister) was kind enough to accompany me on a gruelling trawl through every shop on Oxford Street that sells shoes. We must have seen thousands of shoes, but we didn't find any that met my requirements (not helped by the fact that this summer's must-have trend was apparently 'bulbous, gem-encrusted growths'). After some work scouring online forums and such, I hit on what seemed like the perfect solution: I needed shoes that would look good, but be comfy enough to wear all day - what about tango dance shoes? I found an online retailer with a great selection of dance shoes, found a pair I liked and placed an order. Then I waited for them to be delivered, which was supposed to take two to three weeks (a bit of a gamble given than my dress fitting was less than three weeks away).
When the shoes didn't arrive in time for my fitting, I took a pair that were the same heel height and told myself it would be fine.
Fast forward to last week. It had been two months since I ordered the shoes, and not only had they not arrived yet, I hadn't heard a peep out of the company who were supposed to be supplying them. I sent them a reasonably friendly email to ask what was going on, and was told that the manufacturers had sent them in the wrong colour originally but that they would definitely be in the post by Friday and they'd email me to confirm once they were on their way.
On Tuesday, four days after they were definitely definitely going to be in touch, and with no further word, I wrote them back to explain that I must have them by Saturday (my final dress fitting), and warning that if the shoes were not already in the post I would have to cancel my order. They emailed back to say they'd refunded my money.
Now, whilst this did mean I wasn't out of pocket, it also left me with no shoes and only three days to find some. Accordingly, I've spent most of this week looking at shoes. On Tuesday, JTA and I spent well over an hour looking at every shoe in Bicester Outlet Village. I found a pair of reserve shoes (not ideal, but will do if I can't find anything better), and a very jazzy hat. Yesterday lunchtime, I was out of the office for two hours looking at pretty much every shoe in the whole of Oxford. Still nothing. All I want is a gold shoe with a one-inch heel, a strap and no open toe. Is that so much to ask for?
So anyway, after work I'm going back into Oxford and I'm planning on buying these shoes
(which I previously viewed and rejected), assuming I can convince myself that I don't mind the weird flower things.
Which is a very long-winded way of explaining why I'm feeling tired, footsore and dispirited. The fact it's been raining all day isn't helping - I have to go out and look at shoes again, dammit!
However, I can't really feel sad for too long, because the world is full of things that make me smile:
* The little 'ping' noise the light in the hallway at work makes as it very slowly flickers on or off (I think the bulbs going). I don't know why, but it seems like a really happy noise, as if the light is saying "Bing! I'm back!"
* My awesome new hat. It's purple. 'Nuff said. I wanted to wear it to the wedding, but then I remembered that I already have a tiara and it is 4000 times more sparkly.
* Playing Rocky Horror songs on Guitar Hero 6. It's hard not to smile when strumming along to 'Sweet Transvestite'.
* JTA, especially the look he gives me when I've said something stupid. It's a look that says "you're a chump, and I love you just the way you are". I've never seen him look at anyone else that way. It's my special look.
* Dan, and the way he smiles when I catch him off-guard with an affectionate moment.
* Having Paul around.
And many, many more. Happytimes!