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It makes me feel somewhat geriatric to say this, but wearing comfortable shoes makes such a difference!  You see, sometime this spring my feet started to hurt.  It was particularly the left one, though the right foot hurt too, a deep pain in my heel that wouldn’t go away and was particularly bad first thing in the morning, or when I got up after sitting for a while.  However, I was usually able to walk it off, and I figured that if I just took things a little easy, sooner or later it would wear off.  Except it didn’t.  It got worse.  And then I went to the Chicago Blues Festival, and spent a weekend tramping around Chicago and dancing.  By the time I got home I sometimes had to hang on to things (walls, furniture) in order to take those first few steps.  I finally threw in the towel, did a google search for foot pain, decided that I was probably suffering from plantar fascitis, and started doing the stretches various websites recommended.  That helped enormously, but the pain lingered, and threatened to come back completely whenever I got a little lax in my stretching.  Plus, while stretching out my heel, I ironically managed to pull one of the muscles in my calf, only adding to the pain.

Then a miracle happened.  In a shining example of proof that some good can come from even the most dark and evil hours, I decided to wear the new tennis shoes I got from Sae to the Craft Fair of Doom.  It had been a while since I wore athletic shoes (I’m really much more of a cute ballet flats kind of girl), but I wanted to be comfortable.  And I was.  At the end of that miserable day, my feet didn’t hurt above a dull ache.  It was kinda wonderful.  Since then, I’ve made it my goal to wear properly cushy shoes as much as possible.  And, man, it’s been great.  Even the residual ache has been slowly, but surely, disappearing.  It’s taken a little getting used to wearing shoes all the time (I’ve always been the type who kicks off her shoes the instant she comes in the front door), but it’s so lovely to be relatively pain free.  I don’t have to limp anymore.  I can jump right out of bed in the morning (ok, yeah, I never jump out of bed in the morning, but you know what I mean) and not have to hobble around a little first holding onto the furniture for support.  It’s lovely.  Between the athletic shoes and my new, cushy (also cute) sandals, I feel like a new woman!

Beyond my foot pain starting to disappear, it was a fairly quiet weekend.  Friday and Saturday were spend mostly sitting tight and enduring the heat.  I didn’t do so well Friday, and ended up with a whopper of a headache that kept me from going to Big Brother’s birthday party.  Saturday I was better prepared, and was able to be actually productive.  On Sunday I went down to the Victoria Theatre with AnniPotts and watched Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.  That movie… man.  I mean, you’ve got young Elizabeth Taylor, who was just about as hot as a woman can get, and young Paul Newman, who was so hot it’s practically a religious experience watching him, and you put the two of them on screen together, and they don’t even have to do anything.  They practically spontaneously combust just standing there.  They only ever actually kiss once in the whole movie, but when you leave you feel like you need a cigarette.  Or something.

Anyway, after the movie, AnniPotts and I decided that we wanted to go get coffee before I had to run off to 6pm Mass.  So we ended up wandering all over our rather pretty and deserted Sunday afternoon downtown looking for someplace that was open and talking about, what else, guys.  Since we’re Good Catholic Girls, this included such topics as discerning one’s vocation, whether or not one could be sure of that discernment, and what to do when guys are just being really, really confusing.  After a while, we gave up on downtown, and headed up to the Starbucks at UD, where the cute barrista (what’s the masculine form of that term?) greeted AnniPotts with, “Would you like your usual?”  She would.  It was pretty cool.  And I even got to Mass on time.