I HATE heels

I HATE heels. I really really do.

Had my first choir presentation today, and the dress code was white top, knee length skirt and well, formal bascially. Had to borrow everything from my mom. -grim chuckle- The only pair of shoes that went with my crinkled white sleeveless blouse and pastel pink flower motif flow skirt from korea was heeled. High heels.

I hate heels.

After service, I walked down to the country club for lunch, and back to church after that with erica and alethia to meet the guys who were walking back down to Atmosphere for their lunch. After lunch, I had to walk back to church to go by the back way to catch the bus to bishan. You know how far that is? And everything was done in ithe afternoon sun. 11-plus to one. I wouldn't have minded, but I was in heels.

I hate heels.

Al and I had a couple of hours before the guys met for soccer, so we wandered around j8. I did it in heels. From op to funny little shops to projectshop and esprit and life bookstore, I did everything in heels.

It was somewhere around four when my brother called me. He wanted me to go home and accompany him. We were supposed to go out for dinner together anyway. But I said I'd reach home at 1830.

Yeah I did. In between, I travelled to bishan park and traisped all over muddy fields in my pink skirt and high heels. -grim chuckle number two- At 1700 or so, I threw a disc with jieren and her brother barefoot while the guys played soccer. I think I'm crazy. The bus stop which had 74 was a ten minute walk and I did that in heels.

I wouldn't have minded doing everything, except that I was wearing heels.

I hate heels.

I guess maybe everything- even wearing heels- would have been bearable if only I could bear those things. But I can't. I've never worn heels for more than half an hour in my life and today they were shod on my feet for eleven hours straight.
I'm used to flip flops, sandals and shoes, not heels. Please I can't take heels.

The worst thing, I guess, was coming home so exhausted that I couldn't take my brother out. I wish I could let him know how sorry I really am, how much I blame myself. He was upset at first, which made me feel bad. And then he's in the kitchen now quietly cooking instant noodles because he's hungry and doesn't want to go down. If only....

Maybe I hate myself. I'm just feeling so guilty....

I think, when I get married, if my husband even dares to suggests I wear heels, because they make one look good or anything, I'll make him wear them.