Work, hugs ... and, er, shoes

The filing is done. What to do now?!

Hah.

OK, so I'm browsing Bloglines, and I came across this, about men hugging. Yes, men don't hug. Or do they? Actually, now that I think about it, most of the men in my close acquaintance do hug. So is that weird? Even my dad hugged people, those he knew well. And he was from the Greatest Generation (or whatever it's called). Since I'm not a guy, I don't really have anything emotionally invested in this; it just doesn't occur to me to worry about my femininity in cases like this! :-)

ANYWAY. Since my cart is cleared off, I should probably go kill some more Dead Deweys. Of course, today I wore a dress (Jenica and Drew would be proud: it's a jumper) and my new shoes,

the ones I bought yesterday to wear to the wedding. I'm getting a blister.

Pretty conservative shoes, eh? I have to be able to walk up to the lectern and not make a fool of myself (until I open my mouth and start trying to speak). And the outfit I bought, while springy, has lots of black. And I don't have any black sandals.

In any case, probably not the best outfit to be tossing around books. But I'm stupid, so I'll be out there later. All my other projects are icky.

By the way, I also bought Sparky some shoes. He's wearing size-10s of these:

His feet are YUGE and he looks like a duck in these--especially in shorts and the black socks he had on to try out shoes. Being an adolescent sucks, doesn't it?