Getting here was not easy. That isn't an allusion to the trials we overcame while Jon was completing his undergrad, I mean that we missed our connection in Chicago. I don’t really want to talk about it, I’ll just say it involved an incorrect assessment of the time, two hot dogs, and a broken flip-flop.
Luckily we had five entire hours to find me a new pair of shoes, because the pickings were slim. In the entire terminal I was only able to dig up a couple pairs of shearling-lined slippers, and some ugly overpriced sandals from that nauseatingly sanguine "Life is Good" brand. Considering I was on my way to a Caribbean island, I settled on the sandals, covered my face in shame, and burst into tears.
But! As it turned out, my shoe disintegrating in the Chicago Midway airport was a horrible blessing in disguise because those dumb 'Life is Good' flip-flops ended up being the most comfortable shoes I've ever owned. I wore them exclusively for our first eight months on the island. And I walk like crazy. And these roads are not friendly.
They sure didn't hold up well, though. What was grotesque to begin with quickly became faded and irreversibly stained. The canvas wore away and the fabric straps frayed. Still, they were perfectly molded to my feet and never gave me a single blister - NOT A SINGLE BLISTER (miraculous, considering that I walk at least 10 miles a week in them).
By about 4 months, they looked so horrible I wouldn't have considered giving them to a homeless, barefooted child. By 8 months, they were unfit for even a coin-operated campground shower. Jon's break between semesters was coming up, so I hopped online to have another pair mailed to my mom's house in Idaho.
BUT THEY WERE DISCONTINUED!!! I spent three minutes fending off impending panic before I was inspired to look on Ebay, where I snatched up the only available pair in my size despite the fact that they were in the most garish color combination imaginable. Orange and pink. A complete eyesore. But, my standards having been sufficiently lowered, I went for it.
That pair quickly went the way of the first, so for Christmas Jon gifted me my third generation, which brings me to the point of this post - comparison photos of old versus new.
Besides a size difference (they're becoming more and more scarce), these are the exact same shoes:
I think the only thing older than those worn out flip-flops is the word "garish". You are officially never going to hear the end of it about that geriatric word, and it has nothing to do with the fact that I don't read a novel a day. I am still thinking about that hot dog. MMMMMMMMMM.
ReplyDeleteLiterally CRYING, I'm laughing so hard.
ReplyDelete(backstory) Jon and Lianna gave me THE hardest time when I used that word the other day. I'm pretty sure it's NOT archaic, and that most people know what it means. Please take my side.
Of course. It's a great word--VERY descriptive. I hate it when people bag on you for having a better vocabulary than them. Jealousy in my opinion.
ReplyDeleteAnd those flip flops are horrendous--both before and after.
VERY well educated.
ReplyDeleteI know what it means. I didn't even re-read the sentence (although I don't find myself using it in everyday conversation). Jake is definitely on your side and is always using words that no one knows the meaning to besides him.
ReplyDeleteIn other news, the pink and orange is a great combo. I'm jealous, for sure.
why does it say "just me?" that's gay. and weird. . .
ReplyDeleteI guess most people that would know the meaning of garish, would not know how to use the world wide web well enough to find your blog. If you only use a word one time per seven years or so, it has no place in your vocabulary. "There isn't such a thing".
ReplyDeleteI don't think we can be friends anymore.
ReplyDelete