Writers Block.. Aint that a bitch?

I took a good look in the mirror at my hair yesterday. It is thick and full and I am so happy with it I could spit. I am constantly petting it. My husband is constantly petting it.

I have absolutely nothing to talk about. Unless you want to hear about my schooling. My copy editing class is fun. My business ethics class makes me want to run into a wall from the disorganization that the woman is putting me through. Trig.. is math. I hate math. I want to stab it in its beady face (you know math has a beady face.. it's math!).

In other news, I want these boots from torrid


However, I have large calves. The last time I ordered boots (not from torrid, from newport news) and they told me they were wide, they weren't. So I went to get them widened at a shoe shop. THEY BUTCHERED MY BOOT! Not only did they butcher it, I STILL can't get them over a pair of skinny jeans. Let me show you my desecrated boots.

Hold for picture please.

 If you look not where my thumb is, but where my pointer finger is, there was the little stretch that the boot maker gave the boot.. These people cutt the fabric in a giant V and sloppily stitched in some black stretchy stuff.. MY BOOTS ARE A CARMEL COLOR! Why would you put black there? Does that even make sense? I can't even wear these with skirts now, because it looks so tacky. I just wear them under jeans really, which defeated the purpose of those damn boots.

*deep breath*

I should really get dressed and take the dogs out and maybe even try and clean my craft room. It doesn't look like a craft room. It looks like a junk/trash/clothing room. I look like I should be on an episode of Hoarders.

Speaking of which did anyone watch it last night? What about the old woman that was pooping in bags? *GAG*

Alright I am out. I am reviewing products currently and I promise these nonsensical ramblings will take a backseat soon.