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Many of my long time friends call me Imelda. I was surprised that it wasn't one of my friends who purchased the 50 pair shoe rack for us off of our wedding registry. In fact, just yesterday, I bought two more pairs of shoes. I love shoes. They offer protection from the elements (except for yesterday, when I walked through deep rain in some little satin flats), style (with the possible exception of my chunky yet oh-so-comfortable clogs), and comfort (had to come up with something so the clogs don't feel hurt). I literally have hundreds of pairs of shoes. And, though not practical, there are some shoes that I keep just because they have sentimental value. I love my Mizunos that carried me through my first marathon. I laugh when I see the flip flops I wore on my wedding day. Am I the only bride who has worn bright pink Nike flip flops down the "aisle" (which was a dirt running path for us)?


You might think that shoes are the be all end all for me. The answer to all of life's worries. Not true. There are a few things I do love more than shoes - among them is cleanliness. While cleanliness is not a thing, it can still be loved. Some mistake neatness for cleanliness. I am not neat. But I am **** clean.


You've read about and seen some evidence of the filth we encountered in Vietnam. Here are photos to prove that I embrace clean more than shoes.





Here's a photo of the tops of my shoes. They've gotten me through many 3-mile commutes. I wore them almost daily once I started shacking up with my now husband.





There's probably even a little remnant of San Francisco's financial district and the Mission on there.





Mmm. Appetizing.





I had "saved" a pair of shoes, keeping them clean and away from "ick".





And I felt emotionally ready to part with the shoes that had explored miles of Vietnam's beautiful countryside.





Some might wonder why I wouldn't just throw the shoes in the trash. Why leave the shoes in a place where someone could pick them up and use them?





Here's why. A sample foot in footwear from a Sapa local.





And an example of what one can find roaming the streets of Hanoi. The little bit of darkness under the cat's mouth is bloody. Open toed shoes + possibly rabid cat = not on Christina's list of loves.





Bye bye Vietnam. Bye bye shoes. Jeremy and I wondered how long it would take for someone to grab them. We thought it would be measured in minutes. I hope someone enjoys them.






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My dad's getting a shot of expensive medicine to try to stimulate his neutrafils (things in your white blood cells that protect you from infection). My parents will go home and wait for it to work. They're taking a walk along the Great Highway,where I've shed many tears, as this area has been the last 2.2 miles or so of the three marathons I've run. My parents appreciate that it's desolate. They likely won't come into contact with others, which means my dad stands a better chance of avoiding illness.


My dad will get another expensive shot on Superbowl Sunday, then back to the doctor next week for yet another revised gameplan. Perhaps by then, a hospital bed will open up!



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Mission Aborted

Posted by christina_teamaquaphor Feb 1, 2008

After 4 hours of lab work and premeds, the poison infusion has been aborted.  One of my dad's labs came back showing that his ability to fight infection is too low, so they won't be starting the intense chemo today.  He has an appointment next Tuesday, and we're not sure what this means.  ?:|

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Member since: Oct 18, 2007

I'm spending the next months in San Francisco, NYC, Washington DC, Hawaii, Tahoe, Japan, and Vietnam, and I?ll remember exactly where each incident occurred, thanks to the Sony GPS system. Read about my adventures and get a peek of my experiences.

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