Saturday, March 29th, 2008

(no subject)

Saturday, March 29th, 2008 08:00 pm
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Turquoise & peach 2)
It isn't that I have nothing to say, but that I keep forgetting how to say it. Of course I do remember again, sometimes, but those times tend to be when I'm taking a shower or crossing a busy highway or doing something else equally inconvenient.

I'm desperately searching for context. Context for what? Well, the context for everything, really. It gets tiring sorting through isolated pieces and hoping a pattern will show itself when you haven't a clue how much of the puzzle you've got.

No, the above wasn't meant to be a cryptic reference to anything. For "the puzzle," you may substitute "the cosmos" or "the totality of existence" or some such abstraction which embraces all concreteness. I want to know it all, you see.

In more mundane news, I finally have a new pair of walking shoes! Since I needed new, non-holey shoes quickly and didn't feel like trying on a thousand pairs in a hundred stores in an attempt to find the single best pair, I went to the same local mall I went to when buying the last pair, checked the three cheapest stores-with-shoes for Nike, discovered that two of those stores had none in my size, waited in one discount store for the Suzanne Vega song to end (it was "Penitent"), and then went to try on all the likely pairs (all three of them) in the remaining store. So, my new shoes are running shoes in blue, silver, and white--bought on sale for exactly the same price as the last pair. Bought some white athletic socks as well and I'd like to know why, when equivalent shoes are exactly the same price in the men's and women's departments (I checked), socks on the women's side cost two to three times as much. Good thing my feet are a size which enables me to find things that fit on both sides of the store, eh? Unfortunately, I still haven't figured out the best way to lace up the new shoes so that they will neither slip off my feet nor dig into them. At least my knees don't start screaming after a ten-foot walk as they were doing with the poor, pathetic, worn-out old pair.

Plans for the coming week: Go look at the pretty trees.

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