This is what my new shoes look like.

That's right; this is what my new shoes look like. I've worn them three days in a row and I haven't had a single comment on them. They are the greatest shoes ever.

Okay, perhaps that's overstating it a tad. But after the long, torturous journey it took to get them, I feel justified in exaggeration. It's a boring story involving Wal-Mart, Payless, Target, Nordstrom, a little place called the Closet, and multiple trips to Big 5 Sporting Goods, but it ends with a pair of the above size 8 Shasta men's hikers. They're not shiny, plastic, oddly-colored, or weirdly shaped; they'll wear well and match all my clothes. Moreover, I hike all over this campus every, every day. It rained all weekend, and the marine layer is beginning to get serious about sticking around. I need practicality and comfort. I now have them.

It was a genuine search to discover what I wanted, though. My family happened to accompany me on many a shoe reconnaissance. I couldn't tell if they were a help or a hindrance. They wanted to see me happy, and they did their utmost to assist me. But when they asked me what I was looking for, all I could offer was, "I'll know it when I see it." My dad encouraged me to choose what I liked, not what everyone else liked, as everyone else's opinion was there for the taking. When I was down to two pairs, the group was divided into two camps, and I, momentarily paralyzed with indecision, finally went with what I determined to be the most logical.

Which brings me to the excruciatingly obvious metaphor. If I ever start thinking about a significant other (hey, no takers yet, but this is college, after all), is that what it's going to be like? A vague, methodless pursuit of something, make that someone, I won't know until I see? A painful, drawn-out family deliberation? Don't mock me. I'm serious. I went to the trouble of finding that picture, didn't I?