It was a nice, quiet day today. A few meetings with Howie and the partner in charge of Pomme de Terre, whom we shall call Bosley, and lots of quiet drawing was all I did. Hence, I'm in a mellow mood and would like to share a good story about my sister and fellow blogger, Miss Kitty. This story does not deal with talking in her sleep or kicking me, but rather it's about her generosity.
Now, bear in mind that Miss Kitty is tough. Despite the fact that I used to outweigh her by nearly twenty pounds, and these days I'm all muscle, she can still throw me off of whatever surface I wrestle her on. If I try to fart on her on her bed, body-slam her on a sofa, whatever: doesn't matter. Two flips of her size 6 1/2 feet and my supposedly-strong ass goes a-flying. But she is also a very thoughtful person. At least she tries to aim her younger-sister-shaped projectile towards another soft surface to land on.
Case in point: my visit home for Christmas. Kitty and I took a couple of great shopping trips, one of which included a trip to Small Town Mall to buy some decent fitting jeans for yours truly. On the way to the dressing room, Kitty, Mom, and I walked past the shoe section of a local department store. Kitty and I locked onto the same shoes: shiny, high-heeled with a little platform, round toe, utterly sassifistic. "Ooooooooh!" we both chorused.
"In harmony," quipped Mom. She finally saw them. "Oooooh! If my back was better, I'd wear those in a heartbeat!"
We were short on time, and as any woman knows, shoe shopping takes time as well as patience. Hence, we decided to return later that week to check out those shoes, perchance to purchase them and take them home and look eternally c ute in them.
Alas, our shopping trip took us to a larger town and we never made it back to Small Town Mall for the shoes. Oh, readers, they were not just shoes, they were the Cutest Shoes Ever. After I returned to Denver, I recalled the brand, so I checked every website I could for them: Zappos, Amazon, eBay, even Nordstrom's and Macy's. All for naught. The only site that had them were a website for the department store in the mall, and they only had sizes 8 through 10. I wear a 6, a wee, pesky 6. I was a bit crestfallen, I have to admit. I knew they'd be the Cutest Shoes ever on me, but I would never know.
Until...
A week after Christmas, Kitty calls me from Georgia at work.
"Hi, this is Pixie," I said into my office phone, not even looking at the Caller ID.
"Pix, it's Kit," Miss Kitty said excitedly. "I'm at Small Town Mall trying on our shoes, and they have a 6. Do you still want a pair?"
"Bitch! I've been thinking about those shoes for a week!" I hissed loudly, jumping out of my Herman Miller desk chair. Howie, who still sat next to me at the time, looked at me with a bit of alarm, then tried to act like he didn't notice his trusty intern acting a damn fool over some shoes.
"Okay," said Kitty. "Let's see, a 7 is too loose on my heels--"
"Your feet are narrow anyway," I said. "Try a 6 1/2."
There we were, 1,500 miles apart, trying on shoes and laughing our asses off.
"How do they feel when you walk?" I inquired.
"Not bad, not bad...not too bad," she replied.
"Try walking on VCT."
"What the hell's a VCT?"
"It's that 12-inch tiled, hard, plasticy-flecked flooring in the walkways in the store. It's a ubiquitous commercial flooring material. You do know what ubiquitous means, right?"
"Yes, doofus. I've read a lot of books in my day, and not all of them were coloring books."
"Yeah, yeah, go walk on the VCT."
"Hang on...hm, okay. They're pretty good on the VCT too."
"Fuckin' A. Get a bitch a pair and the check is in the mail."
Another week later, I get a package in the mail, return address "Miss Kitty's House of Tasteful Ladies' Clothing and Accessories." Inside were a few goodies, a pair of the Cutest Shoes Ever, and a note saying "You don't owe me anything for these. Merry Late Xmas!"
This is one of a billion reasons I love my sister.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
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4 comments:
Very Cool, treasure the relationship.
sisters rock.
I wish I had one.
I do have two cousins, very close to my age, that step up in a pinch.
Tell Sarge thanks for the tips. I went to Vegas for the first time last year to visit my buddy (a pilot in the air force who flies A-10s and who took me to the Academy's Ring Dance) and mmmmm....
Unforch, I think he got the milk, and is no longer interested in even seeing the cow, much less talking to it any more. Or he's just super busy traumatizing young pilots where he teaches at the weapons school.
I prefer to the later, as why anyone would not want to chat / see/ hang/ date Moi is just unfathomable.
:)
hugs,
baxter's mum.
My sister Jean is like that too. I hope I am as good a sister to her as she is to me.
MHP is fweetest sister in world. MWAH!
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