I Can't Believe This

I Cannot Believe, in an office where my schedule is decided by me, that I am up this early and sitting in my chair. Okay, slumped in my chair.

Caught the midnight of Sin City last night. Won't say any more, except "Go see it," and "I wish Clive Owen were interested in being my love slave." Thought the man was hot. Give him a gun and some blood on his face, he becomes a God. Mother Mary.

Today I find myself reminiscing about middle school...and one fateful day that changed my life...

In 7th grade, I wore Tevas a lot (I don't really enjoy my foot being entirely covered by a shoe). One day in--where else?--the locker room, I was changing in the same vicinty as Crystal Roberts. Crystal's middle name was actually "Gayle," which I think her mom thought was synonymous with "Classy." Anyway, that one day, Crystal let out a loud "AWP!" noise. We didn't have time to ask her what she was so excited about, because she launched into a diatribe about how long my toes were and how freakish that was.

Okay, now everyone gets teased in middle school. But I was a Chubby McChubster who was trying to fly under the Shame Radar by being everyone's friend and having a sharp sense of humor. I felt like if I could play Middle School Cop and keep the kids playing nice, no one would turn on me and start poking fun. It worked, until that day. Then that ignorant bean-pole of a white trash skag had to go and say something about my poor, defenseless feet. What a bitch.

The body is meant to be mostly in proportion. Your arms are as long as a certain part of your legs, your head is in scale to something or other, and your foot is as long as your forearm. I happen to have a very long forearm, and I figure that with my bone structure, I needed extra grip to help me walk, so I have a more equal toe-to-foot ratio than most.

After that initial embarassment, I realized that I still didn't like wearing normal shoes. I didn't want to give up sandals, so I had to show the world that I loved my footies and that I was proud of their accomplishments, like picking things up off the floor, peeling bananas, etc. I came to love my feet and treat them well with pedicures and lotion and massages. These days, I even draw attention to them with nail polish. And when someone in my adult life comments lovingly on my long toes, I say, "I know. Aren't they great?" and my toes wiggle with joy and know they are loved.

In the back of my mind, I fear that one day a man in my life will turn on me like Crystal Gayle did. This fear was brought on by Eddie Murphy in "Boomerang" (or Distinguished Gentleman?) where he won't sleep with a woman because she has funky feet. I shake my head and tell myself, "That's ridiculous. Do you really want to be with a man who would be involved in five hundred Nutty Professor moves AND Pluto Nash?" Of course not.

So, last night. I was wearing some sandals and some wicked hot capri pants. My buds DS and RW glanced downward and laughed. "Open toes," they said. I felt a pang of that same kind of fear I felt 13 years ago.

"What?" I said, trying hard to be brave.

"It's just that our friend can't stop talking about your feet."

Turns out that a friend of ours, who I haven't seen for a long time, loves my "sexy feet." I was wearing sandals the last time we met and he hasn't shut up since. Apparently when they mentioned they had seen me last Friday, he even asked them if I was wearing open-toed sandals. When they said Yes, he went all a-quiver with joy.

I am so endlessly flattered that I can't even tell you. I never get compliments on my actual feet. Since no one has ever exhibited the tackiness of Crystal in my adult years, I just sort of count my blessings and am glad people appreciate my pedicures. I didn't think someone would actually ENJOY looking at my foot, though. FUCK YOU, EDDIE MURPHY! Somebody, in their quiet moments, thinks about MY FEET! Hah!

So I have a perma-grin on my face that won't budge. I am glad that I wised up so fast and learned to embrace something that I cannot change about my body. Look at me now, Crystal Gayle! I live in a fun city, with amazing people surrounding me. I have a full social calendar, enough money for dinners out and DVDs when I want them, I get laid pretty regularly, and I fit in Miss Sixty capris. Where are you? Huh?! Where are you?!

*Editor's Note: Crystal Gayle Roberts was arrested in the late 90s for drug possession. After time in juvenile hall, she chose not to attend college. She embarked on a lucrative career working the mid-shift in a 16th Street Mall kiosk in Denver, CO selling funny snowboarding hats and model airplanes made out of beer cans. She has a boyfriend with a meth lab in his basement and a 4 year old child named Espen, after the cable channel ESPN.*

my dogs are a barkin'. howlin' even. g