Smart Has The Plans, Stupid Has The Stories
It’s probably not a good idea to fly with me. If, for some reason, you want to go on vacation with me (you don’t), it’s best to meet me somewhere, because flying with me is sort of like being in National Lampoon’s Vacation. Minus, of course, the Family Truckster. And THAT’S only because planes don’t have wood paneling. Mostly.
Bright and blurry, Thursday morning I stood in the Special Line at the TSA Screening just waiting to see what the morning would bring. A strip search? A trip to the back room? Would I be able to board this flight? I simply wasn’t sure, but was anxious to find out. Big Girl was HUNGRY and ready to move on with her day.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long: my Barbie Pink bag was immediately singled out for Extra Searching, which was the least of my concerns, since, you know, I’d stopped packing my shotguns and napalm.
Turns out my BUSINESS CARDS, which I’d brought for no other reason than to explain that I was an Executive in AWESOMENESS, looked suspicious, and needed to be further investigated.
(shout out to my designer, who is amazing, reasonable and BRILLIANT: Robin, at Oppositional Design. You need her. I promise. I can also give you a recommendation for a printer if you need one, too. My cards are incredible. Mostly because I didn’t design them. Or they would suck balls.)
Anyway.
Got to NYC, and the hotel, of course, wasn’t ready. But when I finally got to my floor, it was the Suites Floor, where a shoe company was doing an expo. Which, hi, AWESOME, except that apparently a Sample Size for shoes is a size 6, which I am not. Apparently my size 8.5 makes me Bozo the freaking Clown in feet terms, so me and my boatish clown feet shuffled our canoe-like feet to our room.
Which was right across the hall from this:
Restricted Shoes.
What. The. Hell. Are. Restricted. Shoes?
I looked inside, because obviously, and I’m telling you, Pranksters, the shoes looked not like they were made of platinum and diamonds and nebulous black holes, but like…regular shoes.
I was so disappointed to realize that “Restricted Shoes” were also “Boring Shoes.”
I’d kind of hoped they were the shoes that ate your feet or gave you terrible rashes or were made out of the skin of dead saints or by extinct dodo bird feathers, but these shoes just looked…normal.
Talk about mislabeling AND misleading me. I considered suing them for misrepresentation until I realized that the shoe people were leaving that night.
My heart was sad. So were my gigantic boat feet.
I couldn’t believe I could even WALK in feet that big, now that I knew there were people out there walking around with a dainty size 6 foot. Then I wondered if they had toes. They couldn’t possibly have toes. My hugemongeous hobbit feet and I comforted ourselves knowing that the Size 6 people probably had no toes.
For the following (counts on fingers) bunch of hours, my super-sized feet and I got asked what our “plans” were.
Now, if you don’t know Your Aunt Becky, you wouldn’t know that she doesn’t really make plans. I’m more of a broad strokes person. I knew I would be GOING to NYC and going to my panel at 1:15 on Friday and an interview thing on Saturday at 11:00 and beyond that, *shrugs* I was going to see what happened.
What? The Type-A people on the other side of the screen are screaming. How could you not have any other PLANS beyond that?
And no, I didn’t. I never do. I always figure things will work out and I’ll have more fun if I wait and see what happens. There’s always SOMEONE around with the address of the party I’m supposed to attend and if not, well, I’ll do something else. I’m always content to make my own fun.
This, of course, drives my Planner Friends INSANE. Like, skull blowing off, brain matter spewing everywhere, insane. Which makes it all the more fun to be all, “uh, WHAT was I supposed to do next?”
So, when I came across this, at the Diesel Store, I was all, holy balls, Diesel took my motto:
And I laughed, because dude, Being Stupid is so much more fun. You should try it sometime.
Then, on the way back from dinner with my boss from Toy With Me (I love calling her my boss)(P.S. my column from yesterday is up about online dating), I saw what was on the SIDE of the Diesel Store and peed myself. And not just because I was drunk.
You’ll have to forgive the quality, but the iPhone 4 doesn’t take amazing night shots. It says:
Smart Has The Plans, Stupid Has The Stories.
You know what, Pranksters? I’ll take the stories any day. My ginormous feet and I will happily tread all over town like the village idiots that we are, plan-less and happy, making stories–and children cry–wherever we go.
Because if you’re stupid, you’ll never wish you were anywhere else.
Except not on a plane with me. Obviously.
I’m a total planner… which is why it’s good for me to be around people who AREN’T planners because otherwise I get so busy planning that I do absolutely nothing. Nothing interesting in any case.
My husband is stupid. I am smart. It’s a point of contention when it comes to planning, oh I don’t know, ANYTHING!?!?!?
But fear not, our marriage will survive. He’s making me stupider by the minute.
HM
What’d I tell ya… can’t even spell my own damn name anymore.
HM
As always, filled w/ awesome Awesomeness. Your non-planning makes places like NYC more fun, in my opinion, because there is always so much crap to get into. It’s like “fun roulette” if you play it right.
I’m a planner who wants to be more stupid. Keep educating me.
When I was 16, I spent the summer living with my Uncle Kevin and Aunt Starla in Amarillo, Texas, where they owned a tiny water slide park/mini-golf course. I worked for them as a lifeguard that summer. My Uncle Kevin…remember the John Candy movie “Uncle Buck”? That’s my Uncle Kevin. So one day, I’m sitting on the couch, and my size 9.5 (sometimes 10) feet were stretched out in front of me, resting on the coffee table. Kevin walks by and says “My god, what size are those boats??” Remember, I was 16. I was horribly self-conscious about most aspects of my appearance, but somehow I had never thought about the size of my feet. Until that comment. It took me about 5 or 6 years to stop actively hiding my feet whenever possible, and another few years after that before I finally stopped worrying about how big they are (except, of course, when I’m shoe shopping and I see all the really cute 6s and 7s, and go look for them in my size but all I can find is orthopedics and pumps).
That’s what crazy uncles are for, I guess.
Also, I think the best vacations/trips are when you don’t plan anything. That way you’re always ready to say yes to any opportunity that comes your way!
We should start a support group for people with Bozo feet. I have size 8.5 as well, and shoe shopping is always traumatic. Once I asked the salesperson for a certain shoe in size 8.5, he just looked at me, like “Are you serious?” and suggested I start shopping at the ski store.
“Life is what happens when we’re busy making other plans.”
John Lennon
My feet are a 10. Seriously. I’ll buy just about anything that doesn’t scream ORTHOPEDIC!
There are some things I plan, but for the most part, travel is not one of those things. Which reminds me…I should probably start planning my daughter’s birthday party, since it’s only about 7 weeks away.
Anyway, I’m headed on vacation tomorrow, and I have all sorts of activities I would like to complete but few actual plans. We’ll see how it goes.
I like to have a plan, so then I have something to deviate from and I like being a deviant. It’s so much more fun for me to do things when I know I ought to be doing something else
this is my new motto. so, fuck plans. actually don’t. probably wouldn’t be a good fuck anyway, so skip that too.
I NEVER plan, well, plan WELL that is. And indeed I do have stories!
That sign should be on a plaque and hung in my house, since it pretty much illustrates my marriage. My wife is the Smart one that keeps the entire house and family from collapsing, and I’m the……… well, you know.
I’m a planner. Though I don’t plan everything. Nor do I create spreadsheets with color-coded activities (I’m looking at you Mom). I do like to leave space for spontaneous stuff. Like when we went to Boston last year. I had a general idea of what I wanted to do when (more like where I wanted to eat when) and left the rest up to spur of the moment ideas. Does that make me smupid? Sounds dirty. I like it.
I love it, I peed my pants and not just because I was drunk ahhahahah your are highlarious. I am a 6.5 and i love it because there are always shoes on sale for me as no one has that small of feet. I am a planner, but they never work out so I don’t know why I bother
Heh. When u tweeted about “Restricted Shoes” I totally had to google it cuz I didn’t know WTF they were either. I thought I was missing out…turns out, not so much.
So, does this mean our *plans* for Vegas are off? Sadface.
I’m a planner, but fiance is not. So I want to slap him a lot of the time.
I HATE PLANNING!!! I totally love that slogan!
Yeah my feet are a size 10 baby!!! I used to work in a shoe store so I can tell you that 8 1/2 is the most common shoe size for women in the nation. I never felt bad about wearing a size 10 because most of the super-models also wear that size. Even crazy Paris Hilton wears a size 11.
8.5 as clown feet? Try 11. No, I’m not kidding. And the selection is usually horrendous, so I started stalking the shoe companies for the cross-dressing community. They have kick ass shoes.
I’m not a planner either, but have a general idea of the stuff I wanna do. I’ll get to it or I don’t. Depends on if what I’m doing at the moment is a hell of a lot more fun, and it usually is.
I haven’t made plans since I popped out my first kid, come to think of it that wasn’t well planned either. I guess that means I am a lot of fun?
Yep. I’m a planner. With size 6 1/2 feet. Hate me now if you choose. 🙂
My ex-sister-in-law is 6’0″ and wears a size 6 shoe. When she would stand outside barefoot on a windy day it looked like she’d blow over because her feet were so freakishly small. It looked really weird, like a real-life bad airbrushing job. Your feet, on the other hand, are normal.
I love that! When I find myself hopping on the crazytrain of overplanning, I ALWAYS smack myself in the face and remember that the best times always happen spontaneously.
It’s hard to be a planner when you can’t really plan “random”. As in random strip searches, random lost luggage, random catastrophes.
Planner does not co-exist with random.
I have tried to be a planner, but always fail miserably. Rather then beat myself up about my inability to plan anything, I just do stuff now. I rely heavily on my mom and sister (the uber-planners) when I need to plan stuff, and that works for me.
I’m 5’6″ and have 9.5-sized feet. I’m OK with that. Greater stability when drunk.
And Restricted Shoes made me think about the old Steve Martin bit with “The Cruel Shoes”
http://www.aj.cz/celeb/sm3/cruel_shoes.mp3
Yeah, I’m with rys. I was an 11 (briefly) after my two pregnancies. I have now settled into a dainty *cough* 10.5 and it’s not easy finding pretty shoes.
The first time I read the second sentence my eyes skipped passed the word “an.” It is a totally different sentence without that little tiny word. I was like “Girlfriend, you got bigger problems than big feet.”
That completely explains why people are so stupid. Stupid is the new look. Wonderful.
Awesome. I wear a size six but…..my feet are like my butt….W I D E. Very WIDE
[…] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Aunt Becky, Hendel. Hendel said: “@mommywantsvodka: Be Stupid: http://mommywantsvodka.com/smart-has-the-plans-stupid-has-the-stories” […]
HA! Oh ye “big footed” swarthy one. I laugh at your puny size 8.5 feet (to cover the jealous longing) and raise you my size 10 feet. But I totally feel you on the shoe envy. I walk through stores full of dainty, tiny, gorgeous, expensive enough to feed my whole family for a month shoes and I longingly remember the days when I could wear cute shoes…
*sigh*
But that was before my dumb bunny self fell down a flight of stairs my first week of college (me = TALENT) and totally screwed up my ankle so now I am stuck wearing really expensive orthopedic foot wear… (it costs a lot if you want it to look like something your grandmother WOULDN’T wear).
And I totally agree, that is a TOTAL let down. If you’re going to have “Restricted Shoes” *dum da DUMMMMM* (pretend that was drama heightening sound effect music there okay?) then they should at least be like 5k dollar diamond encrusted stilettos ya know?? I mean SERIOUSLY!
So, have we seen your business cards? And by “we”, I mean “me”. I’d like one that says I’m awesome at…something.
Yeah, so planning. My DH is the planner, which I guess, by definition makes me the stupid one. But I’m much more funner. 🙂 Seriously, he plans, but I PREPARE. You know, because when we go somewhere he has to worry about what he’s going to wear and what he’s going to eat and, etc. I have to worry about myself plus FOUR OTHER PEOPLE! We’re going to Disney in a few weeks and OMG my head is going to explode if he complains one more time about how many bags we’re going to have. Dude, we’re a family of 6 and he thought I should be able to get everything in one bag. ONE BAG!!! *headdesk* I’ll be lucky if I can keep it under 4. And I think that’s pushing it, but it will be 90 degrees every day so at least we don’t have to wear much.
And my feet are 8.5. We need to compare shoe repertoires…none of mine are “restricted” though.
Size 8.5 feet are not boats. My sons’ feet and my hubby’s feet are boats…12 triple wide.
And, I made very few plans for BlogHer too. I had two panels that I absolutely wanted to go to and, other than that, I was winging it. I had a blast and boy do I have stories to tell!
My shoe size? 6. My plans? What? I’m going where? With who? Fuck.
I love the tag line. And I’d rather have the stories too.
Your stupid little feet need to shut their whore toes before my big ass 9.5 step all over them. My feet are Godzilla feet!!!!!!
Dave and I joked about your planning skills. As we toasted to not having real plans of any kind and had a better time I think for it.
Also, where’s my fucking t-shirt?
1. It was so nice to meet you in person at the Schick party!
2. I haz hobbit feet, too — size 10, and I’m only 5’4″!
3. My roommate went on and on about how awesome your cards were. I didn’t get one myself, but I ooohed and ahhhed over the one you gave her.
I am a size 6, and i’m happy to report that I do, in fact, have toes. However, i’m only 4 foot 10 inches tall…so I can’t reach anything or go on certain roller coasters. It’s a pain in the ass and i’d happily take clown feet to not be confused with a ten year old on a regular basis.
I have an old t-shirt that says, “I’m with Stupid.” And, when I’m with Stupid, I always have more fun. Funny post — glad to have found your blog.
I wear a 6. I used to wear a 5.5 but two pregnancies (spent in 3″ heels baby) flattened my arches. I have toes too, although I broke one (consequence of not wearing shoes).
Makes me wish I had size 8.5 feet. I did at one point in my life, back when I was about 12 or so. Now they are over twice the size of the “sample footwear” as I currently wear a size 13 in women’s. Have you ever tried finding a cute shoe that big – next to impossible!!! Oh well, at 6′ tall, I’d look pretty funny trying to balance on size 6 feet (not that I don’t look pretty funny anyways). To this day, my friends say I use the Navy’s air craft carriers for shoes – totally NOT TRUE!
My daughter was born with size 9 feet, I swear! Getting her head out was nothing compared to those feet. But the jokes on her, now when she tells me my normal sized shoes are cute, I just remind her that they don’t come in drag queen sizes. I have no idea why this kid needs therapy!
Awesome story!! I love your humor, and I love the fact that you are here every day funny or not! Thank you!! 🙂
Awesome story!! I love your humor, and I love the fact that you are here every day funny or not! Thank you!! 🙂
hell yes! be stupid!
and my feet are a size 9. I got those feet at 12 when I was still only 5’2′. talk about clown feet. those shoe people would have died to see that!
DAMN. Where were you to tell them that? I would have snapped a picture of their aghast faces.
Pretty sure that’s my approach to life too!!
Is this why you didn’t want to fly with Me?
My life is one story after another….
I will never understand shoe and clothing manufacturers. Whenever I check out the clearance racks (which lets face it, that’s every time I shop) you never find the stuff in regular sizes on sale. It’s always the itty bitty tiny stuff, which should be a HUGE indicator that nobody buys those because very few people fit those small sizes. Same with shoes. You never find 8.5 on sale because 90% of women wear that size.
Brilliant! I straddle the line between planner and storyteller. I make plans just in case and then they fly out the window right off the bat. I live an odd existence because of it.
Size 6 over here. *waves* Yes, I have toes.
I am A Planner. And it has served me well, for the most part. But there have been times when the best moments just seem to come together. . . so I have been working on letting go. So far, that has served me well, too. Therefore, I am going with balance between the two.