In planning for this trip, and by planning I mean studiously avoiding thinking of it in any way except the murkiness of The FUTURE, I knew I would need walking shoes.  I also knew that if anyone attempted to make me wear tennis shoes of any variety in that kind of humidity and heat, I would start kicking that person and never stop.  I needed some comfortable sandals I could walk in, and I did find a nice pair that I assumed would do the least amount of damage while being affordable and cute.  I knew I would inevitably be in pain, so all I tried to do was minimize that.

The sandals did have a heel, because I prefer blisters to having hyperextended knees – call me crazy!!  After that first day in them, when I had the first blister on one foot and what seemed to be a hive on the other foot, I did think that maybe knees that bent backwards and made me walk like a chicken might be preferable.  They’re not, in case you were wondering.  After switching shoes a few days in row and buying certified Disney® flip flops, I had four blisters, one of which had started to mutate.  It began innocently enough, on the pad just as the base of my second toe.  A shoe switch and another day later, the fluid inside had managed to shove itself up between my second and third toes, and IT TOTALLY FASCINATED GROSSED ME OUT YOU GUYS.  I proceeded to show Nick my newest acquisition, and spent the rest of the trip squishing on it from both sides.  It was so gross (but kind of cool).

I snagged another two blisters in Vegas on the LONGEST TRIP HOME EVER, which helped me cement the belief that I do not like Las Vegas, and not just because of the driving winds and the dirtiness that embedded itself in my skin.


Stay tuned for a play-by-play of a very long trip that never wanted to end and became travel purgatory.