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She Was The One With The Really High Heels On

Published 18.5.05 by Porkchop | E-mail this post

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A co-worker of mine happens to be neighbors with one of the doctors who examined my injury.

In typical suburbian friendliness, they were chatting about their day's work. My co-worker mentioned she had referred yet another patient to their private clinic. When she described me, at first, they were having trouble placing me.

Then, the light dawned:

"Does she have really dark hair? Is she the one who had on really high heels? Is she the one who asked us to put the splint on, WITH her high heels?"



"Yes. We remember her."

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

cookies for troops


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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