What is this? What is this? Cry the masses upon sight of the sandal with plenty of ballast and less aesthetic grace. One by one people convert, finding that the ground-hugging shoe is popular because of comfort: among the plebeians happy feet almost always win. Indeed, as to the Android users of the world watching with contempt the iPhone culture, the non-Birkenstock wearers do not understand the culture surrounding these German-made shoes. How can anyone wear something so ugly?! They query.

But nevertheless millions of happy, Birkenstock wearers continue to tread on: secure, comfortable, and with no visible detriment to their friendships, love lives, or egg on their faces. 

So hoped I to continue in happy friendships, but upon receipt of a pair of Birkenstocks of my very own, last week, I received this: 

Dear Lyn,

I always imagined our friendship would fizzle, rather than go out with a bang. We would move hundreds of miles apart in our separate quests for adventure, and our lives would take drastically different paths. But welded together as we are by years of rooming and working together, we would continue to write to each other, maybe even creating a blog of our letters to each other. Throughout the years, we would occasionally visit each other in whatever place we happened to live currently- Paris! New York City! San Francisco! Boston! and when we saw each other, it would be as if no time had passed. I would pet your children and you would pet my cat and we would watch old shows together and consume vast quantities of peas and laugh about the good old days. 

That is how it was supposed to end. But now everything has changed.

It has come to my attention that you have purchased a pair of Birkenstocks. The classic kind, with the wide straps and wide soles and wide wide wide everything. Birkenstocks! Into which the worst of humanity puts their feet! The kind of shoes worn by the crunchiest hipsters and vegans and everybody in Portland. (An assumption, I've never been there.) However, this isn't the worst of it. I can reconcile myself to the occasional Birkenstock viewing, since I hear they are supremely comfortable. Comfort is worth a lot, even worth looking like you secretly support PETA and have dreadlocks in your beard. If your feet are comfortable, life is a little better, and so I can support people in their decision to wear these shapeless blobs upon their feet. What really curled my toenails is this...

You Plan To Wear Them With Socks.

Oh Lyn, have I taught you nothing in our years together? Has my flawless fashion taste not infiltrated at all through the walls of the house we share? Has my friendship and guidance all been for no purpose? Birkenstocks with socks. You say it will be for camping, when you're too sleepy to jam your fuzzy-sock-clad feet into shoes. You say there is a good reason, but alas, I cannot see it. Horror has overwhelmed my soul, and all the happy memories of our friendship have become tainted.  I'm simply going to have to put my foot down.

It has been a good run with you. We've shared a lot of laughs, peas, and bathroom frustrations in these past few years. We've weathered this life together, through thick (me) and thin (you), and I can only hope that someday the pain in my heart subsides enough to remember without regret the happier times. 

You can expect me to be gone by tomorrow night. Don't come looking for me- it will be easier for both of us that way. You may keep the granola I just baked as a reminder of what could have been. Perhaps someday your heart will change, and we can tentatively rebuild our friendship. If so, I'll be the happiest girl in the world. 

Until then, goodbye. 

-striped pineapple

Was it worth the price, you may ask? I don't know. But perhaps if an absence is noted on this blog whilst I grieve this loss, it may be noted the Birkenstocks will keep me company on my long walks of solitude... 

Tearfully, 

L. Raine