birthday. wishes.

Retroland

So, how many of these did YOU own...? I can count five.
My feet break out in a sweat just glancing at the Jellies. I remember having difficulty on the dance floor during one humid well-attended party. Definitely NOT a breathable shoe.
Loved, loved, LOVED my penny loafers. Oxblood coloured Bass Weejuns. I saved up for months to get them. And you had to scuff the bottom of them on the sidewalk or else you could slide clear across your friends carpeted basement! Trust me. (and yes, a brand-new penny inserted in each) Penny loafers were retro in the 80s; my Mom had worn them in the 50s she said. She was the one who told me to put pennies in the slots.
Never owned top siders, didn't like 'em either. I guess because the first couple of guys that I met who wore them were jerks. (the penny loafer guys never were)
And I used to use fabric paint on my knock-off Keds from Kmart to personalize them. Sometimes with a matching oversized hand painted Tshirt. I know, stylish!
Never got around to owning a pair of Tretorns, but loved them from afar.
The only addition I'd make to this wonderful list is cockroach killer flat slingbacks. Kind of like these, but elongate that toe.

ahhh nostalgia, thy name is footwear.

remember this one.

I don't feel more connected; I feel less.

Over and over again, I feel disappointed. Desperate.

"Change your expectations" is what my inner Best Friend recommends.

So. I will.

I like technology. And I think I'm fairly comfortable with it. But some of it -- the social part -- isn't fitting the bill, at least for me.

These words will be for me. Just for me. For documenting, remembering, maybe a bit of creating. Getting my thoughts down out of my head is difficult so it'll be work and therefore good for me.

But I'm changing my expectations.

I can be walking along quite contentedly, letting my mind wander a bit, maybe having a nice conversation with an imaginary friend when WHAM outta nowhere I have an entire, wonderful blog post jump into my head. But unfortunately my brain bandwidth must be very wide because the thoughts that go into that composition get absolutely and utterly jumbled by the time it comes around to sitting down in front of a keyboard to squeeze all those thoughts into my laptop. Such it was with my last post. Rest assured the original post - the now imaginary post - was quite witty, and pithy, with nary a hint of melancholy.

One of those blog posts that is still only existing in my head is about the puppy that we got last fall: Blaze. Who is almost six months old, and probably about 42 lbs by now and a (mostly) great addition to the household. I say mostly because -- just like anything that is part of Real Life -- it isn't always good. Fill in your own personal favourite Life Phrase here. Sometimes he's work; sometimes he's play. (oooh, that's a good one, huh? ...think I'll keep that one)

The best thing is, I get to take him for walks at our local dog park. Where I'm forced to get out into the fresh air. At least five days a week. He's able to go off-leash at this park so he gets a good run and there is much frivolity and he is very happy. I've been amazed at how good these walks have been for me, truth be told. We've had a good winter here, and there seems to have been lots of sunshine for my beleaguered neurons: more seratonin is a good thing. At least for me.

44

I'm bidding farewell to 44 today. 45 years ago it was Pancake Tuesday, and my Mom was hungry enough after giving birth to have an entire pancake breakfast but the nurses told her that she needed to stick to tea and toast. (I think my Mom hates tea and toast to this day.)

4 is my favourite number, and a year ago I wondered how 44 would fare. A trip to Europe, getting a puppy, and attending part of the Vancouver2010 Olympics...? it fared very, very well. (and I may end up adding 'figuring out my food insensitivities' to this list...)

Sometimes I wish I had the ability to press a small button on my temple and take a snapshot of what my eyes are seeing. (Don't you?) Until science catches up with me I'm forced to stand there and tell myself to 'remember this' in hopes of recalling the picture later.

Snapshots like last weekend, walking the dog with Neal and Maeve and a friend. The kids are hiding in a copse of young trees, climbed up into the entangled branches, calling the dog. I can't really see them, but I can hear them giggling and calling out across the snow. Blaze is bounding through and around trying to find them.

And, following my son's 'look!' comment to see another plane pass by underneath us while we're in the air. It's contrail is perpendicular to ours.

Or, looking in the rearview mirror and catching a passing glance between Maeve and Neal. Sometimes it's a giggle, sometimes a glower.

I hesitate to proclaim this, but I think this may have been my favourite year so far.That digital camera implant would've really come in handy.