54 minutes ago
02 April 2010
Have You Seen Me?
So, a few years ago I was given the most awesome pair of shoes. I was in Africa, just days from flying to India for a Christmas Party, and my last pair of flip flops suffered a fatal blow out. I was also severely lacking in money and didn't want to go to the ATM (and incur another international ATM charge) while I pulled out what I estimated was the cost of shoes.
So a friend came to my rescue. It turns out we had the same size feet, which was weird because we wear odd sizes. She offered me--you guessed it--a pair of flip flops. I was so happy.
These flip flops are incredible. They are a hug for my feet. Two years later, I still have them. They've been torn up and "shoe-gooed" time and again, so I don't wear them as often now. But I love them.
Not too long ago, I looked into replacing them. Only, I can't. They were given to me with the logo half-worn away. So I don't know who made them. I don't know where to order them. When I asked the friend who so graciously gave them to me, she said she bought them in Indiana, but wasn't sure if it was at a national chain store or a local store. So, I'm stuck. Unless you can help.
Have you seen this logo before? If so, please help!
This week we're talking about identity and these shoes kind of remind me of the mascot I mentioned on Wednesday. Once again, they have an unknown identity for me. Except that this time I have a personal relationship with the item. I love it. And it's taken on its own identity to me. I don't know these flip flops as my Old Navy ones or my Walmart ones. They are my "hugs", given to me in Africa, and fellow world travelers.
I'm willing to go to great lengths to find "them" again. Well, I can't spend too much money, but you get the idea. I've literally asked everyone I know. I've searched the web. Now I'm asking y'all for help. Why?
They made an impression on me. These aren't just shoes to me. And I don't want to let them go.
Oh, I hope someone says that about my books one day--that they aren't just books to them. That they are stories they love. And that the covers, once perfect, are tattered and well worn, with my name half-rubbed away. Maybe the reader won't remember my name. I'd be okay with that. I just want them to remember my stories.
Have a great weekend. See y'all Monday!