And no, I won’t be showing any pictures of my feet. Even though they don’t quite match.
Seriously. Not sure what sort of mutation happened there, but one fine day as I was perched on The Throne and happened to take a fresh look at those appendages, I though, “Hey, one of these things is not like the other.”
Feel free to sing along.
I’m so easily distracted. Gawd.
Where was I?
Well, I TRY to take a glance at myself in the mornings before heading into the big world out there, even though I might not be the shabbiest one on the street. *By a long shot.* It’s a matter of personal preference I suppose. This morning I even shaved.
I mean, after the Hair Lady tidied things up yesterday in the rest of the hair department, it seemed like the reasonable thing to do. Along with that of course, it never hurts to check on any other wayward hairs that *ahem* might be growing in places where they’re really not appreciated. Nose. Ears.
And if you’re too young to know? You will. Just you wait. Trust me.
Hair Lady even took a couple minutes and trimmed my eyebrows, so we’re good to go in that department. Here I thought I had them under control, but they weren’t to her liking apparently. Maybe I have to rethink my standards when it comes to eyebrow trimming? I never took the course or anything, so maybe I’m missing something.
Saw these guys putting up something out on the main drag. Talk about having the ultimate tool for working on the house.
I try not to stand and gawk covetously, but it ain’t easy.
On the way back, about half way I suppose, I started to notice that something wasn’t quite right. Just a minor annoyance, and nothing that was serious enough such that I wanted to hail a cab or anything. It wasn’t until I got in the elevator and was stationary, that I finally decided to look down to see just what the heck was going on, when I realised I was wearing the wrong footwear! Oh geez! So now I need to check my feet too?
Did anybody notice?
Probably not. Sad to say, I probably could have gone barefoot, and nobody would have batted and eye. Well, until I started limping of course. But even then, maybe not. It’s that big city thing.
Oh man, the things I see.
We have these el-cheapo flip-flop type of things that are for the express purpose of going out on the terrace. Sometimes I might venture out barefoot, but there’s always that one little stone that reminds me how that’s not always such a bright idea. The ones I bought a few weeks back are really surprisingly comfortable. So much so that a person just might forget that they have them on their feet. That is, until they’ve walked about a kilometre of course. That’s when the tops of the feet start to get abraded? Ouch!
No calluses up there to speak of. Certainly hope not anyway. That would be just wrong.
See, the ones on the left? The comfy but, “go no farther than 20 meters” variety. Whereas the ones on the right get strapped down.
Simple stuff really.
Kind of like cinching up your seat belt when there’s turbulence. It does help to be strapped in. The same applies for the tootsies too.
I see folks walking in those ‘between the toes absolutely flat’ kind of flip-flops, and I’m just awe struck. I can’t even conceive of how it’s possible to walk any farther than from the showers back out to the locker room in those things. Besides, I can’t abide by anything between my toes.
We don’t even own any, since I consider them to be pretty much an abomination.
And those socks with individual toes??
How should I put this? ‘Water boarding’ or making me wear those. Those would be reasonable choices for ways to torture me.
The whacky colours don’t help either.
Now, speaking of shoes….
Don’t you love these segues?
The other day, Travelling Companion was lamenting the condition of a pair of shoes she’s had for a while, and was wondering whether or not she should part with them. When I say "a while”, that basically means that she can no longer remember when she bought them.
There were two things to consider however: They are comfortable and, they still would have a few more miles on them (well, kilometres if you prefer) if they only had new heels. Many folks don’t realise that good shoes can in fact be repaired.
See, the soles are pretty good. It’s the heels that are shot.
So I took them to a Schuster this morning. He promised to heal those heels. €13. A heck of a sight cheaper than new shoes. I think those puppies were pricey. I’ll have a “pricey puppy” shoe story for you tomorrow. I promise.
I’m starting to get a little long winded here, so when I pick up the shoes with the new heels on them, I’ll post an “after” shot.
Meanwhile, the night pic I took the other day of the outside screen was really pretty pitiful, so I went up last night and took one with the Nikon. Big difference. Someone said we’d be seeing more of that place. Good prediction.
This was during the game between Spain and Portugal. Not that it matters.
There we go. Heaps better. Click on that sucker.
Keep those sticks on the ice.
Thanks for coming ‘round.