Welcome back! I hope everyone enjoyed their time off from work for My Birthday. I hope each of you enjoyed your My Birthday feast and had plenty of drinks in honor of My Birthday. I also am quite sure each of you gathered with your families around the table giving thanks for MODG on My Birthday. I thought now, I’d share a bit of My Birthday with you on this godawful back to work Monday morning.
The big question of the day: What did B get me? You may remember this post. As you can see, it clearly states that it was NOT meant to get B’s attention, so it’s strange that it did! As I sat on birthday eve with B and he handed me a pretty box, rectangular in turquoise paper with twizzlers atop, I cried. Yes, cried, actual tears that rolled down my face before I even opened the box. Very few things make me cry: baby penguins, a really good makeover and salty/sweet combinations. But I knew what I was about to open and my combo of psychic ability and all knowing, retail box detection told me that I was now the proud owner of super fabulous….
Aaaaaah! Aaaaah! (that is the sound of angels singing joyfully as I cradled them like babies and cried into their beautiful neimans cradle of love.)
Now here’s the part where you’ll say, Yep, that figures… I exchanged them.
I know I know. Here’s the thing, nothing beats Loubs in the world, like ever. Holding a pair alone could make a butch lesbian cry. But BUT since I am not (yet) Britney Spears, I knew that the moments where platform red patent leather pumps were appropriate probably limited to daclub and dastripclub. And non Brit type people can’t afford 9 pairs for every occasion. And yes, I know that I did pick them out myself in my original blog post but even I am not a perfect stylist. So yes, I exchanged them for….
Poor B, I always do this to him but once he gives me a gift, he wipes his hands clean and says, “Eh, I don’t care, your problemo now”, which is fine by me. These shoes I can wear to work, to daclub and mostly in your face as you drool over my red soles. Because really, that’s the whole point.
A special thanks to Kate from I Take Photos in the Bathroom and Elefantitas Alegres for picking out my new baby doll sparkle zone love shoes.
So for those of you hoping I’ll be preg soon to watch me flail around in a panic like a tween at an Edward Cullen sighting, don’t hold your breathe. You see, the true meaning of My Birthday is presents. And once I found that meaning, I knew that I already had my babies on my feet and that’s all I ever really needed. And I didn’t even need to shoot them out of my vagina. So I’m happy.
For now.
Hi I’m MODG. But you can call me MODG. You say it like Modg, like a Grandma name. Not like M.O.D.G. That’s a lot of syllables and I don’t have that kind of time. 
