Sunday, March 28, 2010
Little toes are disgusting. It's like God had left over callus and a little tiny bone, and your hands and ears were full and he was tired and the feet were the very last part and he thought, "Aw, fuck it!" and stuck it on there with a little tiny nail that is only there to keep the callus from growing to unbelievable proportions and overtaking your entire foot, and eventually your whole blasted body. Or maybe the nail's there so the little monstrosity didn't look so obviously out of place next to your normal toes.
It's totally up to something.
Let me be serious for a moment. Feet are gross. But it's almost like your little toe is there to remind you that feet are actually cute in a gross way. Like Pugs and English Bulldogs and deformed babies. There are only two possible reasons for the little toe's existence, and that's the first.
The second is that it must serve as some sort of social barrier. Like farting and burping. That's one of the very last things you do around a new partner. I think the little toe is the absolute last thing you let show. Sometimes I'll be hanging out with Boyfriend with my shoes off, and he'll be watching tv or reading, and I realize that I have my shoes off and I panic. What if he looks at my feet, and realizes I have this tiny toe stuck to the side of my foot, and all it does is get blisters and look gross? What if he sees the gross blister skin and the tiny little excuse for nail and my poor attempt to paint that little sliver of protein and he realizes that he can't really love me because someday I'll get a blister so bad that the nail will pop off and go flying across the room and it might hit him in the eye, and then he won't be able to run away from the callus as it envelopes my body and then his, and we'll both die and he's just not ready to die in such a gross way, and he'd rather just date a super model because they have plastic surgery to remove what evolution should have generations ago.
Artist's rendering of Boyfriend's murder by my little toe callus.
But then I remember that I've seen what his porn looks like, and I think that I'm too thin and pretty for him anyway, and he'll probably dump me because of that, and not because of the little mutant freak on the side of my foot.
I've also just realized I don't know what his little toes look like. I know what his big toe looks like. While we were watching tv the other day, I was admiring it, and thinking about how his big toe and his thumb are similar enough that you can tell that they're part of a set, but are still very definitely a big toe and a thumb. But I think because of my own little toe phobia, I subconsciously blocked his little toes from my memory.
That's the only possibly explaination.
UPDATE: I wrote this back on February 8th, I just never got around to posting it until now. I don't really feel like writing a blog today, or drawing. But I managed to draw two pictures for you, and I'm putting them up. I hope blogger cooperates.
Since writing this though, I made a point to look at Boyfriend's little toes. But now that I'm reading this I can't remember what they look like! I remember how I felt when I looked at them. It took me a little while to work up the courage to even look at his little toes because I was afraid they might be as gnarly as mine and then a little part of me was worried that maybe I would stop loving him because when we have babies they would have super ugly little toes that might take over the world with their super evil out-of-placeness, but I managed to do it. I remember thinking that it wasn't such a big deal, because his little toes matched the other four, and his toes look different but similar, like they should all be hanging out together. Like those twenty-somethings that play teenagers on TV shows that are supposed to be middle class kids but they all have expensive hair cuts and no acne so they look like a matching set of novelty salt and pepper shakers and cream and sugar bowls. Like that. Boyfriend's toes look like they have expensive TV show haircuts. That's an exaggeration, but I realized I like his toes. Not in a foot fetishy kind of way, but in a normal appreciation for a loved one's body parts. I'm much fonder of his hands (I could look at his hands all day), but his feet weren't horrifying. Like mine.
He's not allowed to read this blog. I don't want him to look down at my toes and be like, "Holy Christ, what is that villianous deformity!?"
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About Me
- Lori
- Seattle, United States
- During this course of study, you will come to learn much about the strange eating, sleeping and mating habits of the Instrospective Lori under stress. We will observe as she moves halfway across the country to start a life with her own Captain Wentworth, takes a year off of work to pursue a writing career, and incessantly references Jane Austen.
3 comments:
Pinky toes are freaky. I always made fun of my brother because he had a 'chip' instead of a nail on his pinky toe. Gross. And then I lived with a second cousin twice removed and saw that she too had the pinky toe chip. So obviously, that's one strong freaking gene to make it between second cousins once removed. Very thankful it skipped me. Or, I'm adopted.
When I get a pedicure,I always feel like even though I tip well and pay the expected amount, I wish that I were independently wealthy so that I could pay them what it would take to pay me to give a pedicure to a stranger.
But I also have seen other people's feet in the salon, and thought that my feet were freakishly awesome by comparison.
I'm with Sara on this...I see other people's feet sometimes and immediately get down on the ground and thank the Lord that mine are cute! LOL