feet

you remember how when you turn that age where you stop dressing punk, but don't really know what else to be, so you make all these bad fashion decisions? and you shop at the mall or sears and try to reinvent what's cool for you, and then finally, years YEARS years later, you figure out what you like again besides butt flaps and combat boots. i was digging my clothes for the most part in sf, and they've translated more or less here in nebraska, until recently. the problem? sandals. what do you do about sandals? the only times i've worn sandals in the last bazillion years is when i've been traveling, and they've been awful piles of 3rd world rubber that i cringe to think about. san fran isn't warm enough to wear sandals or shorts, so i've been able to avoid the subject all together, but now nebraska's getting hot and i'm going to have to take the plunge. i got some today, and when i showed them to lizzy, she was didn't say anything except, "i wouldn't have picked out those sandals for you." and i'm like, i know! i don't know what kind of sandals i'd pick out for me! they're not my style! they do not go with my idea of myself at all! but they're quite comfortable, i can wear them out in the garden, or on a walk, and maybe if i do it right, can wear them out in public. sandals. is the world ready for taura's troll toes? i don't know...
on another note, i still think i fractured a rib.