Sushi, dad, shoes, book 26

Huh. I'd started to write another post and then abandoned and forgot it. I'll go back and finish it when I'm done this one.

My dad came back from a business trip to Spain two days ago. I woke up the exact moment he arrived home, because despite the fact that it was early in the morning (by summer vacation standards: sometime around dawn) the dog* went ballistic and started yapping because she was so happy. The dog loves my dad. Loves him. The first time in her life that he left on a trip she sank into a deep doggie depression and refused to eat ("Well, maybe a piece of grilled chicken stuffed with caviar. If it's been marinated in white wine. And served with truffle oil. No, leave the bottle.").

Anyway, Dad was in a good mood so we went out for mexican sushi (you can tell it's mexican because it has cream cheese in it, for some reason) and a bit of mall roaming. Several times during the meal he would fill lulls in the conversation with a micro-speech that always starts with "Now, I just want everybody to be happy and enjoy this outing, now that we're together…". That's just a thing my dad does. Like he wants to nip bad vibes in the bud, even when there are no buds to nip (this sometimes has the effect of creating bad vibes. Imagine you were having a regular old conversation with someone, and they kept going "Whoa, stay cool, man, stay cool!").

Stores are having summer sales now. And sports stores have sneakers at affordable prices now. Shoes that my sister and I would lust after cost less than half of what they normally do. So when you've got a happy dad with money to burn who's smiling at you and asking what it is that you want, and there's beautiful, beautiful sneakers in the same building, you can guess what happened.

My old sneakers are over a year old, anyway. So, you know, it was time.

Photo from www.runpals.com

I own and love pair of these now. Nike Air Max Turbulence+ 16, in pink (pink is cute). They're really great! It's like wearing pillows on your feet. Pillows that do all the running. All you have to do is swing your arms and let them do all the work.

When I wore them for our first run together, the first four miles were great, but the last two were a bit uncomfy because the arches are a little bit too far in front. So it was like running on aggressive pillows. And today, the day after, my hip hurt a bit in the morning but it's fine now. I'll see how this develops.

But I still love them. And they were cheap(ish).

I don't suppose anyone is much interested in the placement of the arches of my feet, so please enjoy this photograph of one of my sisters and me, circa 1996. Or 1995. Or 1997. Er, of my sister and me in the 90s.

I'm the one that doesn't look ecstatic, just generally content (i.e., I'm the one with short hair).

Book time! Book 26 was Mexican High, by Liza Monroy.

It's about Mila (shortened from "Milagro"), a teenage girl who moves to Mexico City in the eighties. She starts out relatively innocent, but since she goes to a school for über rich kids she picks up a few habits: a lot of smoking, a lot of drinking, a ton of drugs and some sex here and there. Seriously, she's high or drunk or both about half the time. The rest she spends hung over.

The book itself was just okay. None of the characters are developed much, save for Mila and her mom (some people are introduced and talked about for short while and then just disappear forever. Poof!), and the climax wasn't really much of a climax. The timeline was a little odd. But none of that really matters, though, because I read it to pick on it! For example, she mentions the "sweet smell of the bougainvilleas". Directly after typing that sentence, I went outside into the garden and literally stuck my nose inside three different bougainvillea flowers. Those things do not smell at all.

Oh, and in another part of the book she mentions that none of her mexican classmates had ever heard of or eaten string cheese. Um, hello, Oaxaca cheese?

Of course I'm being nitpicky just for the fun of it. Being mean brings me an odd sense of satisfaction that has a lot to do with my lack of friends unique personality.

* When I say "the dog", I mean Maxie. We have another dog (Reyna), too, but she's like a permanent house guest or something. Which is to say, my mother accidentally called me "Maxie" once or twice, but would neve confuse me with Reyna… I think.