Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Oh, My Grieving Soles

My little feet have had a few adventures today.

Yes, I'm writing about my feet.  If I were any other person, perhaps I wouldn't even think to write about them.  However, my feet have been points of public interest for quite a while everywhere I go so I figure if everyone else can talk about them, I can surely write about them.

Before I share the adventures my feet embarked on today, here are some little (pun intended) facts about them:

#1 I am 5'3'' tall,  4 months away from my 25th birthday, and my shoe size barely rivals that of an average 7 year-old.  

#2 I wore Spiderman shoes all through high school (they were better than Barbie and whatever pink cartoon characters were out at that time).

#3 I wore blinky-light tennis shoes while living in Maryland (I would have in Alaska but I was fearful of electrocution in the snowy winters).

#4 Absolute strangers have in the past and still do stop me out in public and ask to see my feet because "they are so cute".   Embarrassing.  Really people, do you have to do that?  

#5 In Utah I met a young man straight out of China (he was preparing to go on a mission at the MTC where I worked) who, when he spoke to me, kept staring intently at my feet.  I made the connection and thought perhaps that was the equivalent of an American man staring at a woman's chest while speaking to her which is not appropriate, especially for missionaries.   I actually asked him to kindly stop staring, pay attention to what he was doing, and avoid my work assignment for the rest of his time there.  It's kinda funny now, but was admittedly uncomfortable then.

Ok, on to today's unfortunate events.

Last week when I was cleaning my fish's bowl a small glass chink flew off the bottom when I didn't quite clear the edge of the bathtub with it.  I found the piece and tossed it in the trash.  Well it turns out the piece that came off did so in 2 separate pieces because this morning, about to hop in the shower, I stepped on a piece of broken class.   

I wore sandals today to work, because it's so incredibly hot up here in Alaska right now (global warming?).  My supervisor, a coworker and myself had a small break in the day and took a walk around the ARC of Anchorage next door, then tossed around a frisbee in the field between our buildings.  Running around and sandals don't mix so off they went and I became giddy with the idea of grass under my feet in the middle of a work day.  A bad toss caused the frisbee to land in some thicker areas of foliage and I took off after it not really thinking where I was walking.  When I realized I was putting myself at risk going after the frisbee in bare feet, I was so close to it I didn't care.  I figured, eh, I stepped on a piece of glass this morning, how much worse could it get?  

Keep in mind, I was the kid growing up that wasn't allowed to go outside without shoes, let alone around the house without slippers or something on my feet.  Seriously, dad always made a point to try and step on me when I attempted to go barefoot and would continue until I at least threw some socks on.  Simply stated, I've never been accustomed to walking barefoot on rough terrain... or any terrain at that.  

Continuing on, things happen in threes apparently, due to the heat I did my desk work with my sandals sitting next to me on the floor.  Also due to the heat, I was excessively thirsty and when the conference room around the corner was empty, I ran in there to fill up my water bottle since it is one of only two locations at work that has a filter on a tap to reduce the iron in the water.  There were chair mats in front of the sink and I got excited to walk on something smooth and cold.  Three steps toward the sink and my brain finally registered severe pain.  The chair mats where upside down with those sharp carpet-grabbing teeth things facing up... and I had pretty much launched myself onto them.  The sensation was like that I've gotten when I suddenly realize I've slammed my finger in a car door.  

After work and all that... I went to my dance class where I danced around for an hour and a half barefoot on a hard floor.

Oh, my grieving soles.


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