In another man’s shoes?

Do you ever imagine a version of yourself based around some single something?

Today, in the resale shop, I crossed this pair of red high heels that were almost my size (the left shoe fit perfectly, but the right was too small).

They caught my eye immediately, but I took a stroll through the shoes a bit more before turning back and checking their sizing on my foot.

When I put on the left shoe, the first one I happened to grasp, – I would say grab, but grab sounds so forceful, and this totally wasn’t so – I was filled with a little but powerful sense of delight.

These shoes…

And, before I could finish the thought, I realized that I didn’t have a proper ending to it…

… could be me?… could be a version of me?… could be awesome?… are definitely not going to be work by me?…

All of the aforementioned, actually.

And so I left the thought as simultaneously all of them and none of them… simply, “These shoes…”, and a satisfied inner sense of wow.

I felt so satisfied, considering the version of myself who wore these shoes.

She’s awesome, if I dare say so myself (which, I do).

And, she’s not the right now version of myself, if ever anything other than an imagined version of myself.

I don’t wear heels anymore… quite frankly, they’re utterly impractical and almost always uncomfortable.

I, once upon a time, had several pairs of high heels that felt great to wear… in recent years, however, since those have all worn out or been outgrown, heels don’t seem to be going for quality or comfort anymore… not ones that are sold for fewer than several hundred dollars, anyway… (though, to be fair, I tried on a few pairs today, when I was brought along to The Galleria, and those $800+ shoes weren’t too inspiring on the comfort level either)…..

Anyway, the point isn’t really about how poorly shoes are made nowadays, nor is not about the lack of consideration for quality and comfort when making them, but it is more about imagining that version of myself by trying on those shoes.

On the rack, they were pretty.

On my foot, it was inspiring.

In a moment of something like awe, I had a flash of the woman who wore these shoes proudly and comfortably, belonging fully in them… turning heads and keeping them turned.

I saw the money, the fashion, the business clothing… and then I somewhat encouraged the vision out the window… – I don’t want the business suit…. I don’t want that life…

I do, however, want that comfort and confidence… and that’s were my current state of the physical body needs improvement and care and love, and my wardrobe could use some love, too, to address the body that is currently here.

Sure, I might lose weight and not fit in the few items I bought specifically for my currently-excessed hips and thighs two weeks after buying them.

But those two weeks are likely to be miserable for me without something comfortable and confidence-giving to wear…, and they likely will result in another two weeks of misery and no weight loss…, and it is likely to continue onward until I have comfort and confidence in what I am wearing… the better I feel, the better care I actually take of myself…

Kind of crazy, almost Catch 22 sort of concept, but it totally is how things always go for me.

I even grew super excited, even a bit giddy, when I tried in a few pair of jean shorts that almost fit me today… the first pair was fun, but the second pair, the pair that almost fit, was divine gid – I had a glimpse of that version of myself who really is I, myself… she Does wear these kinds of clothes and shorts… yes, she does…

So, I guess I’m going back to get shorts tomorrow, because it is hot in Houston these days, it will increase is heat in the coming days and weeks and months, and I can’t keep going on in that one pair of cut-off shorts that are genuinely multiple sizes too big (I got them one time when I desperately needed shorts, and they at least stayed up, even though they were too big) – I feel so miserable in them these days, knowing how sloppy they look on my currently iffy fat situation.

So, yeah… that’s the plan… though I had definitely intended to talk beautifully, inspiringly about those imagined versions we create and see of ourselves when we cross a specific item from time to time… usually, those visions remind me of what I truly want in my life, so, while they’re fun and almost wistful thoughts, they are actually beneficial ones, too.

Yeah… cool, huh?

Post-a-day 2019

Musical begun

What is my story tonight?

None come to mind…

I didn’t really dance, because the company wasn’t quite right for the kind of intimacy I find in dancing so openly and freely as I might have danced…

Also, I was sleepy and tired and I generally didn’t feel like dancing in the first place.

Plus, my shoes were not for the kind of music that was playing, and the dancing that would have gone with it…

Yeah, I just didn’t much feel like dancing.

But, when I did have the feel to dance, I did… just in my own way, using my arms and head and upper body mostly, and allowing my feet just to chill… and it was great. 🙂

P.S. The musical run has begun, and with a wonderful opening night tonight!

Post-a-day 2018

Getting in touch with nature naturally…-ish

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One of my favorite memories from my time in high school is the day where one of my best friends and I spent some time with nature during lunch.  In the front of our school, between two of the branches of buildings that stick out to the parking lot, there is an outdoor passageway/walkway.  It is like a courtyard, but that it only has buildings on three sides of it.  That being the case, it wasn’t exactly an ‘allowed’ place for having lunch.  However, the building on one side of it was brand new, and so no precedent was in place regarding it.  Essentially, I didn’t tell anyone that I went there for lunch, and I kept myself out of eyeshot while out there, whenever I went.

I only went on days when I felt really stranded inside the buildings.  Sometimes the whole artificial box and lighting can really get one down, and that is often the case for me.  Since the school had removed carpets from most hallways, while it was fancier-looking, it felt even more industrial and anti-nature.  So, while I had lunch in the actual courtyard most days, I occasionally snuck out to this walkway, because 1) it was rather isolated from people and buildings, and 2) it was filled with green, green grass (something of which the courtyard had almost none).

On the day of this beloved memory, I had told this friend of my intentions to go be one with nature during lunchtime.  She elected to join me.  And so, as I walked barefoot in the grass as part of my usual routine of grounding myself back to nature on these days, she walked alongside me.  I may even have lay down in the grass, or just sat in it, while she walked around and back and forth in it with the same goal in mind.  However, for whatever reason, while I was barefoot to feel the ground physically, she was getting in touch with nature while in her tennis shoes.

Gosh, I loved that silly lunchtime event, and still treasure it.  😛

Speaking of mountains…

I brought my Mt. Fuji hiking stick to show my cousin (who’s in town(ish) briefly) and aunt and uncle, because I knew they could and would appreciate not only the accomplishment it represents, but also just how cool the stick itself is.

In showing my cousin the stick tonight, we got into questions about hiking mountains and the experiences tied to them.  The absolutely silly part of that particular mountain experience was the fact that, while at the top of the mountain, finally resting, we were told that we needed to rush off the mountain, because a typhoon (hurricane) was coming.  Cool.  So, that made for a hurried departure from the top, and inadequate preparations for the painful and long, bathroom-less and water-less descent.

On a similar note, my cousin had a time on a sacred mountain in India (that part is important), where he had his own troubles with water.  Because the mountain is sacred, you see, it is said that no shoes may go on the mountain – it must be hiked barefoot.  My cousin respected this declaration, though his companions did not.  He also discovered afterward that it apparently is rather common even for native Indians to wear shoes for the trek.  Oh, well… Anyway, so this mountain is rocky, and there isn’t exactly a clear and clean path to follow.  By the time they reached the summit, his feet were scorched, and needed a rest.  He had brought plenty of water (carrying at least two two-liter bottles in his pack, plus his regular water bottle, I believe.), so they were in no specific hurry to get back down the mountain.  So, he and his companions set down their gear to give their backs a rest, and walked around the summit a little bit.  When they returned to their bags, what did they find?  Well, they found monkeys… stealing, you guessed it, the waters.  Did the monkeys take other things, like food or small things?  No.  They took the water.  Kind of makes you want to laugh hysterically and punch a monkey at the same time, doesn’t it?  😛

Just know: I really do love monkeys.  I just would want to punch almost anybody who stole all of my water in a situation like that, be it person, monkey, or zebra.  Fight or flight leans to fight in that circumstance for me, it seems.  😛

Anyway, fun mountain stories, huh?

Post-a-day 2018

My well-worn boots

Tomorrow, I am to wear boots.  They are cowboy boots.  I got them in Vienna, while I lived there a few years ago.  For my best friend’s wedding, the bridal party all wore cowboy boots.  The night before the wedding, we had a fire outside in the cool, January first air.  I had my foot resting on the edge of the ring around the fire pit, not realizing that it was a metal pit (as opposed to a ring around a dirt pit), and the edge was connected to the part holding the fire.  I felt a stickiness when I adjusted my footing, and checked my boot to see what its cause was.  No, it was not tree sap, but rather the melting of the sole of my boot.

To this day, I recall the incident every time I think of the boots, and I smile goofily (or so it feels to me, anyway) when I see the deep line going across the forward sole of my one boot.  I am also grateful that I noticed it when I had, and that the sole still remains entirely functional, despite the sort of gash – I could have burned my foot if it’d gone through the sole much farther!

Just an interesting story about my boots, I suppose.  🙂  Oh, and they’re from a store called something like “New York”.

 

Post-a-day 2017

The Ice Skating & Smelly Socks Affair

One day last winter (not the one that just ended yesterday, but the one from a year ago), my friend Stephanie and I went ice skating.  It was an indoor rink at one of the shopping malls in Houston, and we were both quite excited for the ice skating.  In a packed parking lot that seemed like it would never give us a place to park, we somehow landed a magical spot right by he entrance to the ice skating rink… and we hadn’t even known that that was where the rink even was within the mall.

So, we got our rental skates, left everything but our shoes in the car, and headed out into the ice.  After an amazing time being scared and silly, gliding around on the ice, we returned our skates.  However, upon doing so, we discovered that the skates had clearly not been very clean, as our socks smelled of something awful!

There was no way I was going to put those wretched socks in my shoes, but my feet smelled horrible now, too.  So, what do we do?  A Hannah plan.

We noticed a Target next door to the skating rink when we were coming in.  So, in our socks, we ran across the cold parking lot to the Target.  We bought a pack of socks to share, and found our way – this time indoors – back to the skating rink with its bathrooms.

We washed our feet in the sinks, one foot at a time, and carefully dried each one, before donning a new sock and putting on our own clean shoes.  The floors in the bathroom weren’t so great, seeing as they were designed for people to use while still in wet ice skates, so this was a very special balancing act.  Stephanie in particular struggled just to get her foot up in the sink.  I’m not sure, but we might have been laughing the entire time, making it that much harder to balance.

Eventually, we had clean feet in clean new socks, inside our own (clean) shoes, and we put the dirty socks in the Target bag in Stephanie’s trunk, tied tight.  I forget how she had worded it exactly, but Stephanie had said something to the effect of, ‘Hannah has the most insane ideas, and she makes me laugh.’  I definitely agreed with her, but couldn’t help but feel these sorts of things were somehow a normalcy for me.  😛
Post-a-day 2017