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Last week, my brother and SIL unexpectedly sent me a pair of Crocs flip-flops, which I feel most strongly that Crocs are the ugliest shoes in the universe, bar none (the flip-flops are marginally less awful than the clogs, but they are bad nonetheless). And I wracked my brains trying to think of any occasion on which I might have said, yes, please do gift me with hideous footware, and got nothing. How could they send these abominations to me? I thought. Did they really think I would like them?
I was going to return them, a thing which I almost never even consider, but then I felt badly, as I always do, about returning something that someone bought for me specially because they thought I might like it, and so I decided that I should at the very least try them on first. And okay, so you know how the people who defend Crocs say they are supremely comfortable? Well, those people are right: I don't think I've ever had a more comfortable pair of shoes on my feet ever. They are so comfortable that I haven't really gone barefoot at all this week, and I'm generally a barefoot-around-the-house person, and I'm generally a person who wears comfortable shoes. I'm not anywhere close to being able to put the hideous things on my feet and traipse out into the world in them, but by God, I am keeping them.
So there.
:::
A quick bit of advice: George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones is not a novel to be listened to in the workplace. I sat a little nervously through the violence in the first couple of parts, but when I got to the casual incestuous intimidation, I couldn't get to the volume button fast enough. If you have never sat listening to talk of the nipple-twisting of adolescent girls in your open-doored office, let me tell you: it is a little dismaying.
Looking forward to listening to it at home, though.
I was going to return them, a thing which I almost never even consider, but then I felt badly, as I always do, about returning something that someone bought for me specially because they thought I might like it, and so I decided that I should at the very least try them on first. And okay, so you know how the people who defend Crocs say they are supremely comfortable? Well, those people are right: I don't think I've ever had a more comfortable pair of shoes on my feet ever. They are so comfortable that I haven't really gone barefoot at all this week, and I'm generally a barefoot-around-the-house person, and I'm generally a person who wears comfortable shoes. I'm not anywhere close to being able to put the hideous things on my feet and traipse out into the world in them, but by God, I am keeping them.
So there.
:::
A quick bit of advice: George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones is not a novel to be listened to in the workplace. I sat a little nervously through the violence in the first couple of parts, but when I got to the casual incestuous intimidation, I couldn't get to the volume button fast enough. If you have never sat listening to talk of the nipple-twisting of adolescent girls in your open-doored office, let me tell you: it is a little dismaying.
Looking forward to listening to it at home, though.
