My Feet And My Blogging Navel

These are my swollen, post-three-days-of-running-my-butt-off-in-retail feet. My feet are usually fairly slim, so these look more like someone glued the wrong feet onto my ankles. They hurt like they are giant bruises on top of juicy blisters.


Help! Someone glued a pair of puffer fish to my legs!

I keep thinking that I want to write more posts like the kind that I used to think of as throwaways, the kind where I wrote about how I spilled Italian dressing on my sweater and men stopped to talk to me all day at work or how I am basically in love with butterscotch pecan muffins and I pretend that each one I eat is the same one, because it's more intimate that way.

I don't write those entries, though, because I'm always thinking that I have to have this topic to attack whether it be alcoholism or nail polish, and it creates this narrow focus that crowds out the fun stuff.


Onion revels in some much-missed cuddling.

Some might call that fun stuff fluff, but when I look back over the nearly eight years of this weblog, those are the posts I enjoy the most, the ones where I let myself wander around miscellany.


My iPhone magically turned the Palinode into a yeti.

Running a narrative around the not-so-heavy bits makes me take note of them. I stop being so heavy.

Of course, now I'm being all heavy about not being heavy. Watch me brood over leading a lighter life!


Now that's a black cat.

Gawd.


I obviously didn't keep my bottom retainer in long enough after my braces came off.

Sometimes I miss self-medication.

Disgusting Toes And Those Who Might Have Sex With Someone With Disgusting Toes

Schmutzie: Look at the toenails on my big toes.

Palinode: Do I have to?

Schmutzie: Yes. They're very interesting.

Palinode: [looks at my feet] What about them?

Schmutzie: Well, I think the nails on my big toes are eventually just going to fall off. Do you see how they look white down the center to about half way down?

Palinode: Yes. That's really gross.

Schmutzie: I think that's where they've lifted away from the nail bed. I bet if I stuck a little stick down there under my nail, it wouldn't even hurt.

Palinode: That is so disgusting.

Schmutzie: What if they fall off and they don't grow back?

Palinode: Do we have to have this conversation?

Schmutzie: What if they fall off but not all the way?

Palinode: [walks away, pointedly looking anywhere but at my feet] I'm going to be over here on my computer now.

Schmutzie: I bet it will be the most disgusting bloodless thing we've ever seen. Do you think I have a fungus?

Palinode: I don't want to think about that.

Schmutzie: Don't you like knowing that you could have sex with this later?

Palinode: [sighs audibly]

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I share this conversation as a warning to those entering into long-term, domestic relationships. Approximately ten years down the road, you might still choose to have sex with the person who makes a point of showing off her revolting foot issues to you. It's true.

Isn't life a fantastic and unpredictable journey of discovery?