I Beg Your Pardon?

You may recall that yesterday's post was left off with the mention of a monster headache, yes?

Jason came over after work and got to put up with me whinging about it, as usual. I wanted Thai for dinner, he'd already had stir fry for lunch. He wanted Subway for dinner, and I wasn't in the mood. We settled on going into the supermarket and finding something which he said he'd cook for me. I agreed, so long as it didn't involve tomato, broccoli, seafood, and the bajillion other things I don't eat. (Fussy.)

We settled on making yummy apricot chicken and rice. It was, well, yummy. And my dear boy didn't cut himself while cooking the food this time, therefore no passing out on the kitchen floor. Bonus!

He definitely scored points for that.

He lost points, however, after referring to me as Rumpelstiltskin this morning. Apparently that was the first thing that came into his head after waking up this morning and seeing me with a red, pillow-marked face.

RUMPELSTILTSKIN.

I still don't quite get it.

Do I look like someone who can spin straw into gold? (Sweet!)
Or perhaps I just look like a rather ugly goblin first thing in the morning?
Must clarify this.

Whatever.

I bet Rumpelstiltskin doesn't have sexy shoes like this.

These shoes I always imagined owning when I was growing up, because to me they look like "office" shoes. You know, the ones that successful business women wear to work and strut around in?

Sadly I never did get an office job, and there is no way in hell I could stand up in these shoes all day teaching. (They look really hot under jeans though, which is nice!) I actually ended up using a friend's 80's costume party an excuse to actually buy myself a pair.

They look fabulous teamed up with red and white spotty socks.