Armed with the knowledge (via my podiatrist) that my feet may have flattened out a bit more despite my orthotics, Robin and I had our "date night" lunch at the Palisades Center (they've now opened up the spiffy new Cuomo Bridge to 2-way traffic, dividing the 8 lanes in half while the other half of the bridge is being worked on) we found ourselves back at the New Balance store to measure my feet and return the sneakers I'd bought two weeks prior. Turns out my feet are the same size as they've been, I'm just not a "rack size" at New Balance any more, and different sneakers now fit differently (I remember when this wasn't the case). I bought a perfect pair for way more than I would have liked, but it's my feet and I'm not effing around with them. They're perfect, they're supportive, they're... Blue. Suede. Shoes. I'm a rocker at last! Next up, some Levi's Wokes?
Wish I could stay up for SNL but, you know, old person. With blue suede shoes.
Wish I could stay up for SNL but, you know, old person. With blue suede shoes.
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