Portland Part Two

We woke up Saturday morning and Victor's adorable parents had prepared a breakfast spread for everyone. We returned to the conference, just missing the keynote speaker. Some of the sessions were good, others were boring and useless. One in particular, where the speaker and member of the audience bonded over having awful childhoods, was odd and uncomfortable. We spent the last session of the day sitting in the back of the room working on the Tony Bennett story. This post and this post were written during the session.

When the conference ended, the group of us sought food. While waiting to be seated, Mel and I went to the Nordstrom rack that was right across the street from the restaurant. We bought shoes, as did Dan, but they unfortunately gave him two right ones. Once fed, we returned to Victor's house and I tried to snuggle with his cat which would have none of it. But it adored Victor.

Superior Footing

Campus pathways are icy. Slipping and falling is common. I have fallen once. Today, as I was walking from class to the newsroom, I was behind a guy wearing tennis shoes. He started slipping as he tried to walk up the hill and couldn't catch his footing. He slipped down and had to choose a different path. I walked up where he couldn't in my hiking boots and it made me happy to know my footwear was superior. I felt like I had triumphed.

I've decided this story illustrates a not so pleasant aspect of my character.

Hole In My Shoe

I have a hole in my shoe. It's on the right heel of my favorite pair of flip flops. The left one is getting a hole too, but apparently I drag my right foot more than my left. The hole is about the size of a dime. I kind of like the little hole. To me, it shows that the shoes are loved. The question is...When should I throw them away? I don't want to throw them away, but at some point the hole is going to become too big. When? Maybe when it's the size of a 50 cent piece or maybe when it's the exact size of my heel? I guess I'll find out.