These flip-flops

have taken me many places.

My true love for them blossomed last summer in Yosemite, when I wore them hiking up to the tippy top of an intense waterfall. Basically the whole hike was over wet rocks and I was so sure that I was going to slip and die because I was wearing flip-flops! But I made it down alive and my relationship with those flip-flops has never been the same.

Here in Thailand they've carried me through some frightening things. Just last week I was following Paanie through the meat market in them, trying very hard not to slip on the blood smeared all over the ground. When it rains they slosh through the mud with me, and then because this is Thailand and you have to take your shoes off when you enter most buildings, they often get left outside in the downpour. And I wouldn't exactly call them water-proof.

They've taken me on bike-rides through my village and adventures around the city. To night-clubs and Buddhist wats. To church and work and weekend excursions and back home again.

They used to be gray but now they're more brown. The fabric is fraying and my toes have rubbed away the material on top. Basically, they're nasty, as you can see. Even my Thai friends wrinkle their noses when they see me slipping them on, and my dog thinks they are chew toys.

So this is an ode to my beloved flip-flops, which I will be leaving behind in this beloved country. Just thought they deserved a little shout-out before I abandon them forever.