Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I don't mean to be stereotypical, but I do happen to be eating chocolate and thinking about shoes.
I'm being honest in the title of this post, if a bit defensive. I'm not into chocolate and shoes because I'm female. I'm into them because I'm me. And I've got my priorities (fairly) straight -- I don't love them to the detriment of more intellectual pursuits (not that I'm pursuing that many intellectual things through this blog, as you know). But I do happen to be a lady who likes both chocolate and shoes. Give me a break, imaginary critics. There are plenty of men out there who enjoy these things, too (or would, if men's shoes came in such variety).
Tragedy! It has been a week of woe, where my shoes are concerned. Finally, the weather is warm enough for me to show off my recently acquired toenail polish, and my open-toed shoes are torturing me every chance they get. First, a very old pair of low-heeled brown sandals gave up the ghost. I just can't get the ankle straps to stay up. Over the years, I've tried taping, tightening, adjusting constantly, and ignoring; I've hit my limit. Goodbye, low-heeled brown sandals.
Then, a new pair of $6 flip flops (bought on sale over the winter and tried on, but not worn while walking around until yesterday) turned on me. These jerkos not only chose to both dig their fake-leather straps into my feet, causing the sort of pain that feels like it will leave bruises, but the right-foot flop decided to twist as I walked, leaving my right foot constantly falling off the sole of its shoe. I thought I had finally found that elusive plain black thong I'd been looking for (no crazy colors or fake crystals on my flip flops, please). But I was wrong. Why, oh why? Also, goodbye.
I should have been wearing my supremely comfortable (once they're broken in), never-angering handmade moccasins by Manimal, because I have them in two colors (support small business owners! Watch for sample sales!) and I love them. Wanting to show off my pedicure was nothing but hubris. If I'd gone for the toe-enclosing mocs I would not have been doomed to two days of foot pain and rage.
Wait a minute. Am I going to talk about inedibles for the rest of this item? Let's get to the snacks. A few moments of sanity amidst my days of furious feet? Brought to me by eating squares of a Vosges Haute Chocolat Goji bar. This fancy chocolate was an unexpected gift from Louis, produced upon the occasion of our finishing a monster (5 months or more) recording project at work. Thanks, Louis!
"Tibetan goji berries/pink Himalayan salt/deep milk chocolate/45% cacao" is printed on the front of the box for this 3 oz. (85 g.) bar. On the back? An overwritten essay on "How To Enjoy An Exotic Candy Bar" by someone named Katrina (whose bio was also overwritten, so I stopped reading it), including instructions such as "Take 3 deep breaths. Rub your thumb on the chocolate to help release the..." blahblahblah.
I didn't take three deep breaths. I rubbed my thumb on nothing. I just ate the chocolate. And it was delicious. I had forgotten about the Goji berries promised by the packaging, so their chewiness surprised me. The salt, which I was looking forward to, was as good (and pink) as I'd hoped. I love salt with chocolate. I did wonder if this bar might be better in a darker chocolate, but I'm no snob; I like milk chocolate, too. In fact, though I've had other flavors of chocolate bar from this line, the Goji Bar is my favorite so far.
Eating a bit of the bar yesterday helped me get through the day without running out to buy replacement shoes just so I could take the rotten flip flops off. Eating some today has me feeling like I take whatever shoes come next, good or bad. And that's some empowering salty chocolate!