Boots and Boys

Can you think of a better title for making myself seem air-headed? Do let me know.

I shocked my mother by telling her that I've bought four pairs of boots since I got here. Four pairs! Goodness, the child never used to be a spendthrift. But the first pair was only $20, and I wore them through fairly quickly. Subsequent pairs were more expensive, but they too are now water compliant. One pair was fabulous- knee-length, brown leather with absurd upholstery along the calf, wedge-heeled and pointy toes. I have since learned that pointy toes wear out faster, and that is why my feet get wet in the snow. The other pair is a combination of brown leather and suede with round toes, but it still fails to keep me warm and dry. A new pair was in order. To this end, I went to the third-largest (and surely the richest) city in the country in search.

Plain black leather? You know, it's hard to find anything simple.
Rounded toe? That's true of non pointy toes, too!
Stack heel? Sweet mother, did I really spend that-
Fur lined? OW MY BANK ACCOUNT
Getting boys that I'm not dating to go boot shopping with me? Priceless.

Indeed. I went to DP, and the boys came to see me. As I may have mentioned, my training cluster was originally comprised of three men and two women. However, the other young lady missed her boyfriend and went home, deserting me with three boys. I was concerned. To my surprise, in addition to the harassment, they were fiercely protective of me and turned out to be my friends. The proof is that J and W willingly came to look at boots with me.

The nicest part, though, was going to visit W at his site. When I discovered how close to me those two would live, I had wanted to visit, but feared that spending the night would be weird. Friends though we are, we do not have very much in common. But it was just fine. Time after time, I marvel at my luck in being placed with a group of people who like me for myself, or rather, in spite of myself.
(With apologies to Victor Hugo)