Tag Archives: Flip flops

Cool Change

Early sunny Saturday morning brought with it a cool breeze. This is the kind of breeze where you want to fly open the windows, every window in the house. Go grab a light sweater and relish in the refreshing break. My son is on a high today from just stepping outside and not sweating immediately.

It’s mid-November. It is technically autumn. But Florida has been hanging on tightly to its tropical bones. We’ve been participating in a resounding groan about the heat not wanting to leave with the remnants of Halloween. Hell we were groaning before Halloween.

The weekend is supposed to be chilly by Florida standards. And it is greatly welcomed. Sometimes you just need a cool change. Whether it is the weather, a new job, adventure, friend, toy, dress. Shedding one layer of skin like the leaves shed their brown, red, and yellow leaves. Replace the skin with newness, a shift, a rising bud from within to reveal itself in spring.

Summer may linger longer here in Florida than we’d like. But sunny days are welcomed graciously. The sun warms the skin, the water, our cheeks, and reminds us there is light after darkness. And when it scorches we wince and pray for a rainy day to nestle inside and keep our skin from burning. But even better is a day like today. Both sun and light chill to awaken and bring about smiles on tired, weary faces.

I don’t think I could ever handle the tundra. And I might not always live in Florida, who knows. But I know I prefer wearing flip flops so I have to take the heat. My boots are patiently waiting in the closet. And I’m looking forward to wearing them. For just a little while.

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Walking in Flip Flops, Working in Heels

One of the first realizations that I was stepping (pun intended) into the corporate, professional world this past September was that I had to place these somewhat foreign objects on my feet everyday. Calf straining, toe-crunching, sweat breeding objects. No flip flops allowed. Ouch.

I was so nervous those first few weeks. Ten minutes before start time there I was in the parking lot fiddling maniacally with the straps of a pair of heels I bought at a second-hand store. The rubber inserts were peeling off and I had to constantly reattach them.

My work clothes consisted of a few outfits from said thrift store and a sprinkling hodgepodge of items I put together from my own closet. Items I hoped did not show too much back or leg, or resembled a wardrobe from Gilligan’s Island/Punky Brewster/The O.C.

Surely these people knew I was a fraud. I’m a writer, a beach bum, a stay-at-home Mom. A girl who sometimes doesn’t get out of her jammies until late afternoon. A girl who loves flip flops so much she fashioned a blog after them.

I staggered across the parking lot hoping I didn’t look drunk. Like a fawn trying to get her footing after being in the cozy sheltered womb.

I smiled as I passed my business casual-clad coworkers. Hiding my grimace from the pain of the shoes, the claustrophobia of the underwear. Hoping I at least looked the part.

Four months have passed. I still stagger from time to time. Ok, often.

And I still drive to work in flip flops.

But I am not alone. There are others who suffer from flip flop separation. We slip our heels and toe-covering flats off while sitting at our desk. Our foot-coverings of choice stashed on the floor boards of our cars, waiting to be reunited.

We may work in heels, but we walk in flip flops.

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Filed under Yep I'm Becoming My Mother

Birthday Blogging

I just renewed my domain name and blog site. This means I have been WordPress blogging for a whole year. Happy first birthday Busted Flip Flops!

These flip flops have been seriously busted lately. I haven’t written all month. Certain instances and situations have occurred which have kept me away. But I was never truly away. Not in the spiritual sense anyway.

It actually feels weird to sit here and write. How I have missed it. I am feeling a little rusty like my bicycle chain. But I can still pedal. Although a little creakily at first.

There are so many things I want to write about but for now I just want to say thank you to all my readers. I have enjoyed your presence and comments and inspiration. I have enjoyed reading and connecting with my favorite bloggers and entering into this WordPress world that has so many times brought sunshine to my flippity flop walk on the rocky beach.

So cheers to this first birthday! Let us raise a glass. Savor the sweetness of the written word and let it permeate a moment and blossom into its full-bodied flavor. And walk along side me for another year, busted flip flop to busted Croc (or your footwear of choice).

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Dreaming Among the Chaos

Dreaming

In the midst of chaos what do you dream of?

Life has been stressful over here the past couple weeks and I have been pretty damn good at keeping cool, keeping calm, keeping positive when others around me seem to be unraveling.  Well I guess it’s my turn to be the loosely-knitted sweater with the one thread that is dangling in the breeze.  It came on so fast.  And just as I was congratulating myself on being so even-keeled.

Don’t get me wrong.  Things are not horrible.  Just a few small sinkholes along the shell-covered pathway.  In times like these when I feel I’m being swallowed, my mind goes to the things I miss.

I miss floating in the salty gulf with the prospect of a nearby dolphin gracefully hurling itself out of the water.  I miss the flashing lights above a dance floor.  I miss dancing wildly.  I miss the Oprah Winfrey Show.

I miss the rousing touch of fingers and hands and lips on the body.  I miss writing down my dreams when I remember them instead of trying to recall them when the details have fizzled with the rising sun.  I miss Haagen-Dazs chocolate peanut butter ice cream.  Can’t find it at my local groceries.  Just as well.

I miss my old, cheap, grocery store-bought flip flops that I busted.  But they are the muse for this blog.  Busted, I mean.  Not when they were new.

So I guess I’m feeling pretty busted right now.  The gulf is cold.  Oprah has her own network.  My friends can’t come out and play.  No massages coming my way.

Maybe it’s time to buy a new pair of flippity flops.  Ones that can help me climb out of the sink hole before it becomes quick sand.  But I’ll still keep the old busted ones.

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