We are gathered here today to remember my boots ... which, sadly, are no longer mine. They were the perfect boots, exactly the right heel height with exactly the right point to the toe. And the ability to be dressed up with a classy suit or dressed down with a tarty pair of jeans — no small feat where boots are concerned.
They brought much joy to this girl in their short existence as my boots (which were mine) and I shall miss them greatly. So let’s all raise a glass (or in my case a coffee mug) to my boots. They shall be missed.
And now for the tragic punchline. I work on the sixth floor and I take the stairs because elevators make me claustrophobic … and it’s good exercise. As I was running down them like a lunatic last night, I caught my right heel on the concrete lip of the fourth step from the bottom, snapped it right off and went flying. I R as graceful as a gazelle!
Actually I must be pretty fucking graceful, or lucky, because I somehow managed to keep myself from going head over now solitary heel which probably would’ve resulted in a few broken bones to match the broken boot. As it is, I badly dislocated two toes on my right foot. And let me tell you, if anyone ever says it doesn’t hurt to have a dislocated joint snapped back into place — even one as small as your toe — then they’re masochistic fuckwits who get off on pain.
Like the ER doctor, for example. Who cut off my boot ... because there was no way they could pull it off without gripping my foot which they at first suspected was broken (it’s not). So a broken heel could’ve been fixed but a boot sliced down both sides is good for nothing but the garbage. So now you have the explanation behind PSA's cryptic "boot and flowers" post from last night — 'cause he's the sweetest evah.
Of course, there is an upside (there's always an upside, you just have to find it). Once the swelling goes down and everything heals, I get to go boot shopping.
36 comments:
I can’t imagine how anyone could possible walk in footwear like that, let alone go down stairs in them. Quite an amazing feat, if you’ll excuse the pun.
Anyway, sorry to hear about your tumble and dislocated toes… Owie! Bet that’s going to be sore for a little bit.
That's terrible, just terrible. I too have had beloved boots bite the dust (usually because of being torn to shreds by dogs) -- however they go, it's never easy. And it doesn't get any easier when you lose the next pair, either. So sad.
Sorry about foot too. RICE!
I think we may be hitting one of those great Gender Divides, like the notion of paying someone to carve and scrape little bits out of your feet, or putting coloured liquids on nails.
Boots. I have a pair of boots. I wear them sometimes. That's sort of the extent of our relationship.
Piff about gender, I was walking near McGill during the winter and hit a partially submerge in snow remnant of a parking sign with my foot.
I was wearing my favorite hiking boots. Tore the eyelet right out of the boot, rendering them basically useless..
I just about wept.
Yeah, but you work in design. Say no more.
Lulu, darling: give me your boots, some thick thread, an awl, and some Superglue, and I can bring them back to life.
We have the technology. We can make them stronger, faster, better than before. Mwah-ha! Mwah-ha ha!
Frankenboots... THEY'RE AAALLLLIIIIVVVEEE!!!!
*cough*
Sorry. Don't know what came over me, there.
Hope your toes feel better with a quickness. There are new boots awaiting your command!
Now you chicks know how it feels when we guys have to throw out our favourite underwear.
LuLu,
My deepest sympathies.
Wonder if there is a BootHill, just for boots?
Pale's lace up granny boots with French heels, 1998-2003
I'm just looking at the bruising on my foot and it's outstanding. It starts at the base of my first 2 toes (the ones I dislocated) and it's slowly snaking its way up my foot towards my ankle. It's kind of fascinating in a car crash kind of way ...
Or ONE sock, just because it has a small hole in it, even when the other is perfectly good.
"Now you chicks know how it feels when we guys have to throw out our favourite underwear."
Throw it out? I thought you just wore it til it disintegrated ;)
Or vapourized ...
"balbulican said...
Yeah, but you work in design. Say no more." They were manly european hiking boots.. one of the few boot companies that still manufactures where they are headquartered... they'd taken forever to get broken in....
Awww... poor LuLu.
Boots can be replaced. Toesies, not so much. As bad as two dislocated toesies is it isn't - opening last night's sealed envelope - as bad as I first thought.
Guys wear underwear?
Cameron, the only "manly" boots are Wellies, or steel toed, CSA-approved scarred up work boots. Maybe those duffel lined Arctic moon-boots squeak by, but only if thoroughly stained by either caribou blood or diesel.
So what did you think, Frank?
I remember the day you got those boots....
Okay actually I don't but I do remember the post you showed them off and I was jealous.
I hope it's not too soon, but maybe the next pair will be as good, or better.
Throwing out underwear is just awful. That's why we never wash them.
Don't let anyone try to tell you that agitation doesn't take its toll.
Lulu, I'm sorry for your loss. But have fun shopping.
balbulican, I beg to differ. Those boots and carried me and my overloaded pack over many a lovely mile of hiking trail. Up mountains and down ...
I think we can now put Balby's "Great Gender Divide" argument to rest ...
Cameron, with every comment you just dig yourself deeper. "Manly" boots don't traverse "lovely" hiking trails. They fight their way through jungles, crushing snakes. Or cling desperately to ice-sheathed rock overhangs while their manly owner grapnels for pitons with his carabiniers, or whatever. "Lovely" hiking trails, indeed.
I think balbulican has some new movie on his mind...
Feh... They did chunks of New Hampshire and Mass, and Vermont and some here in Quebec.
I bled on them and ruptured blisters on them and beat the crap out of them...
Just because I wax (slightly) poetic about the country we crossed while I wore them...
There, see, you're doing it AGAIN! You said WAX POETIC!
(Bleeding and rupturing blisters is not bad though. If you can assure me that you at one point or another crushed either a small bird or a kitten with them, I will accept your masculine bona fides.)
Sorry Cam, I with Balb on this one. ;-)
I'll also make an exception for some of Blundstone's non-safety/workwear product.
cc said: "Now you chicks know how it feels when we guys have to throw out our favourite underwear."
jj said: Throw it out? I thought you just wore it til it disintegrated ;)
JJ, lol. I'll be among the first to admit that even the most enlightened of us have our piggy moments.
But, no, not speaking from experience. Not at all. Sounds like you might be though. ;)
Rather, I think I can relate to LuLu's situation more from having to discard a cherished vintage western shirt...
those boots were the source of all your power.
(throws away dog collar)
i'm freeeee!
KEvron
Until next time, WOrm. : )
PS: Get well soon, LuLu.
(picks up dog collar)
So, there's an opening then?
As a fellow Ottawa resident, I'll gladly help you find the new boots when you are better Lulu.
And clean them.
And...well...uhm.
Hey, look stupid conservatives!
So what did you think, Frank?
Oh, that some mouth-breathing, knuckle-dragging, foetus-fetishizing misogynist trash had dared to knock the tiara off your head, and as we all know...
Teh First Rule of Princesses states that 'None shall dare touch Teh Jewel Encrusted Tiara of Teh Princess nor besmirch her honour through any act which results in dislodgment from the carefully tended coiffure of Teh Princess'.
(subsection 1.a of The First Rule of Princesses further adds, 'especially mouth-breathing, knuckle-dragging, foetus-fetishizing misogynist trash. Yes, we do mean YOU'.)
Teh Second Rule of Princesses states that 'Appropriate penalty and punishment for any trangession against Teh Princess for any trangression in relation to Teh First Rule of Princesses shall be determined and meted out solely at the discretion of Teh Princess
(btw, Teh Third Rule of Princesses states that 'Teh Princess makes the rules'.)
Teh Princess kicked out at her trangressor in a huff (only true Princesses know how to properly do 'huffishness') but alas, her target eluded her soft leather shod foot and met with a large immovable object.
Teh Princess might have avoided such disaster if shod in the fashion of safety footwear. However, Teh Fourth Rule of Princesses states that 'Teh Princess only wears Teh Tiara of The Princess when accesorized in a manner nefitting Teh Princess'.
Try as they might all of Teh King's cobblers have been unsuccesful in their attempts at fashioning suitably bejewelled and gilded (and yes, matching) safety footwear.
There now remains a mere handful of (very nervous and life fearing) cobblers across Teh King's many lands and their time runneth out, as does Teh Princess's patience wth them.
But... serioursly? I did think you might have broken a foot.
I like your story better, Frank ...
In fact, I like it soooooo much that I've tasked my graphic artist with embellishing it in appropriate fashion for printing, framing and hanging on my home office wall. Thanks, honey!
Couple typos and a redundancy... Off with my head then. ;)
yer welcome, Princess.
Frank Frink: "But, no, not speaking from experience. Not at all. Sounds like you might be though. ;)"
No, my ex didn't wear them til they disintegrated. He just wore them til they took on human characteristics by osmosis, then crawled down his leg, wriggled free and ran away. I had to chase them and beat them with a stick to get them into the washing machine.
Threw them at the porcupine once.. fucking things always after the salt..
"Until next time, WOrm."
the position sounded a lot better in the ad....
KEvron
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