I can't believe I'm watching this

What's more, I'm enjoying it. I'm surprised by how likable Joan Rivers is. She's not obnoxious at all, and she's really very smart about people. Tom Green is nicer and more collaborative that I expected, too. Conversely, Andrew Dice Clay is just as unfunny and wretched as I assumed he'd be.

Feeling a little wicked on a Sunday afternoon

So today I was a teeny-tiny bit more productive than yesterday. Instead of going to the movies, I went shopping for boring utilitarian things -- like Charmin and a humidifier filter. Now I'm doing laundry, which I never enjoy. Yet there's a certain spring in my step.

For I went out for lunch and ordered a pear mojito. Yum!

It worries me that I enjoy these reruns

I never watched The Golden Girls when it first aired. I believe it was on Saturday nights, and in those days, I put a great deal of work into never being home on Saturday nights (and in not remembering what I did; it was the 80s). But now, when I catch it on cable, I stop and watch and am usually very amused.

Is it because I now carry an AARP card and had my first colonoscopy? Do I now belong in the picture? While I'm short and carry a big purse, like Sophia, and I suspect that I'm really more like Dorothy ...

A selfish Saturday

It DID start with a drop off at the food pantry, so I'm not an unredeemably self-centered person, but the rest of the day was all about me, me, me -- and it felt good.

I had breakfast at my favorite coffee shop and continued with my current book -- a "guilty pleasure" true crime tome with little or no redeeming value. Then a massage to work out the icky ooky knots in between my shoulder blades, and a pedicure because ... well ... I wanted one. Then I went to see The Reader. (A perplexing, disturbing movie -- Why did she take her young lover? What was it in her past to screw up her values so much? -- but Winslet was terrific.)

I intend to continue the trend by watching back-to-back episodes of Law and Order while sitting on the sofa, surrounded by cats.

Days like this do wonders for recharging my internal battery and salving my soul.

I love the Ciroc commercials

Like there's any way that hearing Sinatra isn't going to capture my attention. Then I look up and see these commercials are shot in black and white, which makes the entire scene look so elegant. There's Diddy, looking so casual in his black tie, like this is just another day in the life.

I drink vodka but I don't buy it. Vodka is like a Border's Gift Card, the gift all my friends know I can always use. (Right now there's Svedka and Stoli in the cabinet.) But if I were to invest in a bottle tomorrow, it would be Ciroc, just to support this campaign.

Blah

That's how I feel -- just blah. I'm tired, my gut is having a difficult time getting back with the program after Wednesday's festivities, I miss my best friend, and while I have a lot to do here at home, nothing captures my interest. I don't feel like going out either. I'm not happy, but I'm not unhappy, I'm uncomfortable.

I'd forgotten how much I loved this movie!

I'd also forgotten how much I once wanted to be a nun! Made in 1966, this movie follows the "scathingly brilliant" adventures of Mary (Hayley Mills) and Rachel, best friends at a Catholic boarding school. Rosalind Russell is the Reverend Mother, a stern, yet wise and comforting presence.

The nuns were so compassionate, the girls were so much fun, that I wanted to go to Catholic boarding school and then go on to become a novice, then a nun/teacher. Except I wasn't Catholic, and eventually it dawned on me that something was missing at St. Francis: boys. I was already very much in love with Paul McCartney and didn't see how I could be both Mrs. McCartney and Sister Elizabeth. (I don't know why, I just liked the sound of "Sister Elizabeth.") Still, when I was 8 or 9, there was something very attractive about the idea of having my future planned out … all safe and sound.

I'm so happy that I stumbled upon this gem as I spun the dial on a rainy Tuesday night. It makes me feel happy, safe and sound again.

Idol Observation

Adam made that hoary old chestnut, "Satisfaction," relevant, so I'm very glad he made it through. Also, I like his hair. And I was afraid that Norman Gentile, while entertaining, would be this year's Sanjaya.

Is it OK if I feel sorry for Rielle Hunter?

Regular readers of this humble blog know I consider Elizabeth Edwards a true heroine. Her memoir, Saving Graces: Finding Solace and Strength from Friends and Strangers, touched me deeply and finally taught this ever-independent Gal the life lesson that sometimes it requires strength to ask for help. Mrs. Edwards' dedication to the causes that matter to her, like universal healthcare, has not wavered as her cancer has progressed. Last summer, as part of a Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee fundraiser, she wrote: "Throughout my battle with breast cancer, so many extraordinary people have reached out to me and my family, holding us up with their gentle but unwavering support. The truth is, I have been very fortunate -- not just because of their support but because I have good health care coverage. I also haven't had to worry about whether I might lose my home to foreclosure or how I'll put food on my children's table or gas in my car." I doubt I would be able to maintain such selfless perspective if I was suffering from inoperable cancer.

That's why I was so disappointed and disgusted that John Edwards would hurt and humiliate her as he did. I admit it, I was so upset you'd think I was the one he cheated on. (Well, that is kinda how it felt!)

Yet as the press starts swirling around the upcoming release of Elizabeth's next book (Resilience, due in May), whispers have started about "the other woman" in Edwards' life, Rielle Hunter. Here's one columnist's take on Hunter's life since the affair was confirmed in August 08: "Soon after that, the private arrangements between Edwards and Hunter more or less fell apart. Fred Baron, an Edwards associate, had been funding Hunter’s stay at a rented Santa Barbara home. But Baron died suddenly and tragically in late October after a short bout with cancer. This left Hunter in the lurch. The lease on her house ran out in December. Since then, she’s been relying on the kindness of friends, sources say, and hoping that Edwards would do the right thing. So far, that hasn’t happened. Hunter has forged on ahead as a single mom, refusing to sell her story or sue Edwards for paternity. The baby’s birth certificate still lists no father."

From where I sit, Hunter and her daughter, Frances Quinn, are victims of Edwards' selfish lack of self-control, too. There are no winners in this saga, just losers.

THURSDAY THIRTEEN #96 -- "The Welcome Back" Edition

First of all, thanks to Mr. Pop Culture Dish himself, Malcolm, for reuniting me with my all-time favorite meme! Because it's too late/too early for me to be up, I'm going to let music, and this post, "soothe the mind and give it rest," so I can go back to bed for a bit. (Please remember that I am a proud Baby Boomer and my list reflects that.)

Without further ado ...

THIRTEEN SONGS MY IPOD
PLAYED WHILE ON SHUFFLE

1. 100 Years -- 5 for Fighting
2. (Between a) Rock and a Hard Place -- Rolling Stones
3. Domino -- Van Morrison
4. Martha, My Dear -- The Beatles
5. Just a Little Lovin' -- Dusty Springfield
6. You're My Best Friend -- Queen
7. Jessie's Girl -- Rick Springfield
8. I'm the Greatest -- Ringo Starr
9. Little Sister -- Elvis
10. Love in an Elevator -- Aerosmith
11. Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows -- Lesley Gore*
12. Already Gone -- The Eagles
13. The Rising -- The Boss

*Yes, I'm embarrassed that one came up. But what kind of person fakes her TT? I had to include it.

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Now I know my ABC's ...

This seems pretty easy to complete, even after those warm, fuzzy drugs. (Liberated from Kwizgiver.)

Accent: Well, I don't think I have an accent. My best friend, who lives in Denver, maintains I have "a Chicago accent, like Hillary Clinton," which he tells me means my r's are hard and my a's are broad. Which could very well be true, since I don't think Hillary has an accent, either.

Breakfast or no breakfast: Monday-Friday, just a glass of milk and a can of Coke. Weekends, either a bowl of cereal or a big coffee shop breakfast with eggs as the centerpiece.

Chore I don’t care for: I don't really enjoy any chores. I hate, loathe, despise and abominate laundry, though.

Dog or Cat: Cat. Or cats. Today my best feline friend has been my big old black and white tub of guts, Joey. He's been very affectionate and attentive surrounding today's festivities. He has seemed more in tune to why our daily schedule was off and he's been very sweet about it. I've said it before -- Joey may be my dopiest cat, but he's my hero. He has an unfailingly sensitive, positive nature.

Essential Electronics: iPod.

Favorite Perfume: Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker

Gold or Silver: Silver

Handbag I carry most often: No such thing. I change my bags at least twice a week.

Insomnia: At times.

Job Title: Associate Creative Director

Kids: None

Living Arrangements: Me and the cats in the a 2BR condo

Most Admirable Trait: I'm strong like bull

Naughtiest Childhood Behavior: I was a "loud" child. "Keep it down!" "Shush!" "Will you PLEASE knock it off?"

Overnight hospital stays: In 2003. Removal of uterine fibroids. Much worse than today's festivities.

Phobias: Air travel. No, make that suddenly and violently aborted air travel.

Quote: The proverb, "What man has done, man can do."

Reason to smile: All the kindness and support I received yesterday and today in regards to the festivities.

Siblings: Two sisters with me in the middle

Time I wake up: 6:00 or 6:30 am

Unusual Talent or Skill: I can wiggle my right ear

Vegetable I Refuse to Eat: Uncooked tomatoes. Their consistency is just wrong and gives me the heebies jeebies.

Worst Habit: I can be a very lazy, lazy slug (A habit Ms. Kwiz and I share)

X-rays: Dental x-rays and an MRI

Yummy Stuff: Whoopie pies. Newly discovered and highly addictive (A vice Ms. Kwiz and I share)

Zoo Animal I Like Most: Okapi

If you want to play along, let me know so I can compare.

Clean as a whistle

That's really all I have to say about today's festivities. I'm tired, I have a caffeine headache, and yet I'm very grateful.

• My oldest friend actually took the day off to get me to and from the hosptial. She's a champ!
• I don't have to go through this again for TEN YEARS
• I am completely healthy, gastrointestinely speaking
• I was strengthened by all the good wishes floating my way from the blogosphere

Nap time!

Now THIS was a feel good

The hospital called about tomorrow's festivities. I was hoping they were calling to cancel. No such luck. They wanted information about my insurance, my next of kin and my religious affiliation. You know, just in case I DIE!!!!* I was hoping that when I told them I was a Unitarian, they would say, "we don't touch your kind here." No such luck.

*It's not the dying part that I'm unhappy about. My faith in Jesus and Heaven give me peace in that regard. However, even though I know He loves me no matter what, I really don't want to meet Him when I've got a tube up my ass!

I'm IT!

Cuz Lulu tagged me!

“Your ship has sunk. You have, of course, been stranded on a deserted island. You have salvaged a copy of the King James Version of the Bible and a copy of the complete works of Shakespeare. Nothing else.

“The very next day you find one of those Arabian Lamps in the sand. Of course, you rub it and, of course, a rather grumpy Genie appears.

“‘Let’s get this straight - there is a recession going on. There are restrictions on the three wishes now. I don’t do water or air transport now so no boats, planes or magic carpets. As for electronics, forget it. There isn’t the infrastructure on this island.

“‘I can let you have one book and I mean one VOLUME, one essential item and one luxury item. Now hurry up and make your choices, I have to get to those five other islands you are going to nominate.’”

Book -- JFK: Reckless Youth by Nigel Hamilton. This warts-and-all study of Kennedy is my favorite book of all time because it reinforces a valuable life lesson: no matter how good a life looks from the outside, you have no idea how it feels from the inside. Also, I may need some survival tips from the chapter on PT-109.

Essential -- Wilson the Soccer Ball. He has experience in situations like this.

Luxury Item -- LOTION! Unlimited moisturizer formulated without fragrance but a high SPF. I'm not turning into a prune for anyone!

Let me know if you play along. (Lulu and) I will want to see how you did.

Tuesday Tunes #15

Wednesday would have been George Harrison's 66th birthday, for our Tuesday Tunes, we're going to have a George theme.

What are 5 things that you like about George Harrison?

1. He was the funniest Beatle onscreen. By far. Remember the scene in A Hard Day's Night when he refers to the spokesmodel as "the posh bird who gets everything wrong? She's a drag. A well known drag. We turn the sound down on her and say rude things." Or when teaching Norm to shave, George instructed him to, "Put yer tongue away, it looks disgustin' hangin' out, all pink and naked." If these words don't look funny on the page, wait for them next time you watch the movie. George's timing was impeccable.

2. He didn't like Madonna, either. I have always believed all the best people dislike Madonna. His Handmade Films made Shanghai Surprise, possibly the worst movie Sean Penn will ever make, starring ol' Madge. I know this will shock you, but George regarded her as a difficult personality and a bad actress.

3. "Savoy Truffle." An ode to candy and a cautionary tale about toothaches.

4. He loved to play the ukulele.

5. The Concert for Bangla Desh. He originated the supergroup fundraiser.

Happy Birthday to George Harrison, The Scouse of Distinction.

To play along yourself, click here.

Busy! Busy! Busy!

Today I touched on three different projects! Everything went so smoothly that I wasn't even tempted to strangle anyone, or touch my secret stash of vodka! I appreciate this sudden flurry of activity because: 1) it distracts me from the joy that begins tomorrow night and 2) it makes me more confident about taking that vacation I booked. Because if I'm busy, I'm billable. If I'm billable, my agency gets more money ... and my paycheck is secure. Yea! (Yes, we were promised no more layoffs, but who knows what unforeseen fiscal maladies could plague us next. I like the reassurance.)

Watching the Oscars, I'm a little in love

Watching the Oscars tonight, I'm reminded that I love Robert Downey Jr.'s voice. I think it's because it reminds me of a former lover, and in only nice ways. I also love the way his attitude transcends his size (he's only about 5'8). I'm glad his career is back on track and I hope he stays clean, so I can stay a little in love with him for years to come.

I'm also reminded how much I loved Sydney Pollack's work, both as a director and as an actor. From This Property Is Condemned to The Way We Were to The Firm. As an actor, I loved him in both Michael Clayton and as Will's dad in Will and Grace. I was happy to see him remembered on the Oscars tonight.

And Paul Newman. It seems he was as well respected by his peers as he was well loved by all of us.

All this is why I love the Oscars.

Indulge me as I send my mind to the happy place

I'm dreaming of my vacation again. Dreaming is very important now, when I have to do laundry and wash the kitchen floor ... today, when I had to buy Gatorade, Dulcolax and Miralax in anticipation of Wednesday's "big event" ... it helps to concentrate on what's beautiful and luxurious. Like tonight's elegant women and handsome, tuxedoed men at the Oscars. And my upcoming spa vacation at Chateau Elan, just outside of Atlanta.

To help me set the scene, let me share the weather -- it's sunny and 25º warmer in Atlanta than it is here today -- and these photos. The robe-clad women eating heart-healthy food prepared by Chateau Elan's chefs are dining right there in the spa. The suites, where I'm staying, are in the hallway past the blonde. The spa treatments -- and my spa representative Larissa has two days of them scheduled for especially for me -- are performed down the hallway behind the gray-haired lady. Out the window you can see the gazebo, which is the centerpiece of the next photo. Isn't it great that I'll be right there on the water? From this vantage point, my suite appears on the far left and the spa itself is on the far right. Note the woman in the gazebo in her fluffy robe. It's perfectly acceptable, even encouraged, to wander around this building and the nearby grounds in the robe and flip-flops provided.

Much better than bleaching my whites down in the laundry room, isn't it? And certainly much, MUCH better than Wednesday!

The Blogthings Oscar Quiz

Thank you, Kwizgiver.

You Would Win Best Supporting Actor / Actress

You are a quirky, fascinating person. You understand the world well. There's no one quite like you. Your uniqueness leaves a strong impression on people. You are bold and willing to take risks. People may love or hate you, but at least they'll notice you. You are just different enough to make a great character actor. You can make a smaller part come alive.

What Would You Win an Oscar For?

It's Oscar Time

The Gal Herself shall return to the Academy Award telecast the way the swallows return to Capistrano, partly because I'm hot for Hugh Jackman, but also because it's the Oscars. It's glamour, it's history, it's Hollywood!

Of this year's crop of actresses, I can imagine Anne Hathaway dressed beautifully enough and moving gracefully enough to join these two in the pantheon of Oscar elegance. (Plus, her against-type performance in Rachel Getting Married could be as big a revelation as Grace Kelly's in The Country Girl, approx. a half century before.)

To make it even better, Jerry Lewis is scheduled to be honored with the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. One of my guiltiest guilty pleasures is listening to Jerry's incoherent and frequently offensive ramblings. I enjoy it so much and so wickedly that I give generously to MDA in an attempt to cleanse my conscience.

It was on again tonight

I have never seen My Cousin Vinny. But obviously the Cable Gods think it's desperately important that we all watch this movie, since it seems to be on every day.

My tummy hurts

Could it be because I finally read that packet of materials I received from the hospital -- the one that details my upcoming colonoscopy? I have never had one and am not looking forward to Wednesday, when I submit to my first. Ugh. Not very attractive, is it?

Saturday 9 -- Letting the Sparks Fly

1. Where would you go if you wanted to spark your creativity? Water is very good for me. A quick shower, a leisurely soak in the tub, even a walk along the Lake. I get my best ideas when I'm near water.

2. What would be one thing that would embarrass you a great deal? I can't sing worth a damn, so the thought of soloing at a karaoke bar is just too awful.

3. What values did your parents instill in you? I got my patriotism from my dad, and my love of animals from my mom.

4. What’s a fad of your teen years that you remember well? Smiley faces. "Have a nice day."

5. What is your favorite breakfast? Eggs. I switch it up from time to time (scrambled, poached, over easy), but I love eggs.

6. What is the best birthday gift that you have received? When I turned 50, my best friend got me the book that was at the top of the best seller list at the time of my birth, the movie that won Best Picture that year, etc. I loved it.

7. What gadget could you not live without? My iPod!

8. Do you collect anything? Purses. I looooove them.

9. What website (non-blog) do you regularly visit? MSNBC. I'm a news junkie.

Saturday 9: Letting the Sparks Fly

What I've been dreaming of

It's official: This March I'm returning to Chateau Elan in Atlanta. Here are photos of the suite I booked. Isn't it grand? Larissa, my personal spa rep, helped me put together my own individual"spa itinerary." Two full days of yummy, relaxing pampering. I'm going to be made up and massaged and exfoliated and wrapped. Since all my meals are included and my suite is right there in the spa, it's possible that I could literally stay in my fluffy white robe for both days. (I tend to get antsy, though, so I'll probably get dressed every now and again to wander the vineyards.)

I'll come back revitalized, refreshed, and ready for baseball season!

Friday 5

Friday 5 for February 20: Souvenirs

1. Is there a certain kind of souvenir you always bring back for a particular someone? My 9-year old nephew loves those little plastic bracelets first made popular by Livestrong. If I can find one bearing the name of place he's never been, it makes him happy.
   
2. Of the souvenirs you’ve collected from your travels, what are some that have special meaning for you? I have a snowglobe from a quick jaunt to LA with my best friend. I don't know why, but it really touches me.
   
3. What’s the silliest souvenir you’ve brought back for yourself, or what’s the silliest souvenir someone has brought back for you? My friends in Key West got me my very own Robert the Haunted Doll. The original Robert is in a museum down there, and he's supposedly imbued with dark magic powers, and the tales completely cracks me up. I'm proud to have my own.
   
4. If you were going to send someone a souvenir from places you visited today, what might it be? A pencil with a worn out eraser. That kinda sums up my day so far … a lot of writing and a lot of rewriting.
   

This goes out to You Know Who (both of 'em)

For different reasons, of course.

MY BELOVED FUTURE HALL OF FAMER GREG MADDUX. This is my first spring training in more than 20 years without you!

MY BEST FRIEND. This is your first trip to Chicago where we haven't even spoken to one another!

Fortunately, I ain't missing either of you. No, not at all.

Hi! I'm buzzed!

This is what comes from having cranberry juice and vodka on an empty stomach. This buzz is very pleasant, though. Maybe if the writer thing falls through, I should consider becoming a bartender so I can spread this joy.

In the meantime, I will amuse my drunken little old self by seeing how much of the dialog I can recite along with the characters from Godfather II:

"I didn't ask who gave the order, because it had nothing to do with business!"

"Old man Roth would never come here, but Johnny knows these places like the back of his hand."

"I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart!"

I can sense his presence

My best friend is in town today, but alas, I cannot see him. He landed this AM (sent me a text so I wouldn't worry about his flight), is giving a presentation today, taking his clients out to dinner tonight, and returning home in the morning. The unfairness of this is staggering! This Recession has stopped being a joke when a client won't spring for an extra night in Chicago!

Seriously, though, I miss him something fierce. Everything is easier to both stand and understand when I have him to talk to.

Ah! That feels good!

Been very busy here at work yesterday and today and while the workload and truncated timelines have caused me to miss my workouts, which is a bummer, it's still rather satisfying. Like stretching creative and collaborative muscles you haven't used in a while. Plus it's been a good antidote/distraction from my icky mood.

Tonight's Idol Observation

Ryan Seacrest, quit trying to be a stand-up comic. You're not Don Rickles, you're a pretty face, so there's no reason to attempt "jokes" about Simon's anatomy. Introduce the contestants, recite their phone numbers, and then shut up. Thank you.

Vodka, chicken fingers and American Idol

Vodka and chicken fingers are not exactly a heart-healthy meal, especially for a pudgy middle-aged woman, like me, who missed her workout. However, I'm in a mood and it's what I want when I watch American Idol, and I am too sensitive, darling and compassionate to deny someone as adorably poignant as me anything. On the way home, I stopped at a popular dine-in/carry-out place.

At least it used to be popular. Tonight it was damn empty. There was just me, waiting for my yummy fingers, and (I suspect) a long-married couple sitting together, eating their meals in silence. Last time I was there, around Christmas, it was bustling. I couldn't read the menu specials board for the people milling around. Not tonight.

Worse, I can tell they're paring back. No more free chips for us to enjoy while we wait (which is OK, because I really didn't like them), no more bakery for dessert (just ice cream). It makes me sad.

I know I haven't been there in nearly two months because I'm economizing. Perhaps others in the neighborhood feel the same way. All this fiscal self-restraint must be hell on small businesses. I hope the stimulus package stimulates consumers in time.

In A Mood

First I held him lightly and we started to dance.
Then I held him tightly, what a dreamy romance!
And I said "Hey, baby, it's a quarter to three,
There's a mess of moonlight, won't-cha share it with me?"
"Well," he answered, "Baby, don't-cha know that it's rude to keep my two lips waitin' when they're in the mood?"

NO! That's "In THE Mood!" I'm in A mood. A pissy, melancholy, discontented mood … not the good, old-fashioned, sugar-coated horniness that Patty, Maxine and Laverne sang about. (Though I'm sure a nice carnal interlude would do me a world of good.)

I didn't work out today … my hair feels all thick and frizzy … I'll probably never have sex again … I'm short on my self-monitored "allowance" for the rest of the month ... I miss my best friend … I'm worried that Highball the dog lived out his life traumatized by what he witnessed on Valentine's Day 80 years ago ... to paraphrase Crash Davis in Bull Durham, "I'm dealing with a lot of shit."

Mostly hormones, I suspect.

Don't screw with me, though. I may bite you. Or cry. Right now, I could go either way.

Tuesday Tunes #18

Tell us your biggest musical regret.

Not treating my vinyl with more respect and tender loving care. I have cartons of old LPs and 45s in my closet, but they are virtually unplayable. Yet I can't part with them. I know that, as delivery systems for sound, downloads are superior. But records! You could fall in love with a record! Cover art, liner notes ... stacking LPs on the spindle ... I miss 'em.

To play along yourself, click here.

Sorry, but I can't watch it

I had a plan for this President's Day morning -- settle in on the sofa with my laptop and get a headstart on a project for work tomorrow while watching the NCIS marathon on USA. This plan made me happy. For even though my oldest friend once told me she uses work like mine "to light the grill," I still find it satisfying. 95% of my audience treats advertising the way she does. But trying to figure out what will grab that 5% and get them to buy -- even after all these years, I still get off on it. And, even after all these years, I still get off on Mark Harmon. So, as I say, I had a happy plan.

But then USA had to run the NCIS episode featuring Abigail Breslin -- the Oscar-nominated child actress of Little Miss Sunshine and Kit fame -- as a blind girl who is kidnapped and terrorized. There's something about this kid that touches me deeply and it upsets me to see her in peril, even though I know Harmon/Gibbs will save the day. So there goes my plan! I have defected to the Biography channel and their President's Day special on JFK.

Breaking in my brand-new Avia cross trainers

I walked my 10,000 steps through town today and was sad to see two more stores are going or gone. One was an American Mattress location, which is sad for the people who work there, of course, but there will still be two other stores within a 5 mile radius. The other was an independently-owned design studio that specialized in feng shui. I'm afraid high-end decorating is not a high priority for most home owners in this economy. This is all so sad ...

Which makes me feel almost predatory for being so excited about my trip to Famous Footwear. The new cross trainers were on sale for $30, thank you very much. Also picked up these adorable Roxy plaid flats for 1/2 price. I haven't been shoe shopping in soooo long and I was gratified to find such great deals. While I'm confident that I'll be employed through summer, I still don't think it's wise for me to spend the way I used to. (It's possible it was never that wise, but that's another story for another time.) I understand that the retail sector has been hit very hard by the economic downturn, but I have to tend to my personal economic health and welfare, too. It's seductive to rationalize indulging in retail therapy as my patriotic duty, but that's a trap I'm trying to avoid.