I liiiike can-die’s! (get it? like the song.)

 

*sigh*

It’s time.

I can no longer wear my black candie’s.

they are seriously worn. out.

this sad truth hit me today during a meeting when i couldn’t cross my legs for fear someone would see the bottom of my shoes — which are cracked and, depending on the angle, show my actual foot.

also, the metal is poking through the heels. and yes it DOES make the ‘click’ sound you hear when i walk on a tile floor sound that much cooler. but it’s kind of tacky.  

also, the word “candie’s” is smeared on the inside from — i’ll just say it — foot sweat.

this is all on top of the fact that i’ve had to use super glue to connect the sole to the actual shoe. and even that has since worn apart again.

i just love these shoes so much.

i originally got them for my grandma’s funeral nearly two years ago. (for $50!) (that’s a lot of money).

and they have since walked in illinois, iowa, south dakota and wisconsin.

they’ve met governors, lovers and johnny depp (ok. they didn’t meet johnny depp. but i did while i owned them, so close enough).

they go great with jeans, khakis, and dresses.

and they have formed to my actual feet. so they are d*mn comfortable.

they’re just so cool.

and now i have to say good-bye.

because im scared that people are starting to talk about them behind their wooden heels — and they deserve better than that.

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I liiiike can-die’s! (get it? like the song.)

 

*sigh*

It’s time.

I can no longer wear my black candie’s.

they are seriously worn. out.

this sad truth hit me today during a meeting when i couldn’t cross my legs for fear someone would see the bottom of my shoes — which are cracked and, depending on the angle, show my actual foot.

also, the metal is poking through the heels. and yes it DOES make the ‘click’ sound you hear when i walk on a tile floor sound that much cooler. but it’s kind of tacky.  

also, the word “candie’s” is smeared on the inside from — i’ll just say it — foot sweat.

this is all on top of the fact that i’ve had to use super glue to connect the sole to the actual shoe. and even that has since worn apart again.

i just love these shoes so much.

i originally got them for my grandma’s funeral nearly two years ago. (for $50!) (that’s a lot of money).

and they have since walked in illinois, iowa, south dakota and wisconsin.

they’ve met governors, lovers and johnny depp (ok. they didn’t meet johnny depp. but i did while i owned them, so close enough).

they go great with jeans, khakis, and dresses.

and they have formed to my actual feet. so they are d*mn comfortable.

they’re just so cool.

and now i have to say good-bye.

because im scared that people are starting to talk about them behind their wooden heels — and they deserve better than that.

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i got by with a little help from my friend

man. i had this friend once.

he was so. freaking. cool.

seriously.

this guy was co-ol.

he would let me call him like 17 times a day and never get annoyed. and then he would call me like 14 times in the same day and compliment my “micheal jackson” ring-back tone no matter what. 

and he would let me talk about being vegan all. the. freaking. time. and he would never complain about listening to stories of soy.

Oh! AND he was a journalist — so my in-depth theories about lede structure never bored him.

not once.

and since he’s seen every movie ever made, he’d let me ramble on about whichever johnny depp film i had just watched (and you shouldn’t underestimate how many johnny depp films i watch).

also, he was so freaking funny.

his e-mails would crack my sh*t UP. and (when i shared them with others) they would crack my co-worker’s sh*t up. and they would crack my friend’s sh*t up. and then they would crack my sh*t up a-gain. 

but the best thing about this friend was that he believed in me.

i mean, if you asked this guy “what is crystal going to be when she grows up?” he’d say — without even pausing — “amazing.”

it’s not that he thought i was a good writer (he did) or that i was funny (he did) it’s that he thought i was the kind of gal who could fix the world. (or something equally as important).

i mean this guy really  believed I was amazing.

and he had a way of making me believe it about me too. 

and even when he got to know me (and ALL my faults (including, but not limited to: my coke-a-cola addiction, my need to complain about all things snow, and my crazy vegan ways)) his faith in me didn’t fade.

because this guy thought that i was shiny inside. and if other people didn’t see the light, they were just stupid.

it wasn’t weird. or uncomfortable. or awkward.

it just was.

he believed in me. and by extension i started to believe in me.

and he and i aren’t talking now.

and every day kind of a sucks a little bit as a result.

and even though it’s nice outside. AND im the proud owner of a couch. AND i totally didn’t f*ck up at work this week — everything was a little dull without him  to talk to.

and i just wanted to say that i miss him.  

a lot.

and i hope we find our way back.

because friends like him are so cool.

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