Putting My Best Feet Forward
Internet, meet my feet. Feet, be prepared for some weird Google searches.
These feet of mine are not particularly gorgeous, but they're not really ugly either. To be honest, I quite like them just as they are. I particularly like them sans socks and shoes. I'm a big fan of stripy socks and gorgeous, peep-toed, man-seducing heels and, hell yes, I want to marry the person who invented flip-flops. But really, I would rather not have anything on my feet. At all. Ever.
My grandmother is much the same way. We walk through the snow barefoot, across the scorching sand barefoot, to Mordor barefoot, and around the office barefoot. And that last part seems to BOGGLE SOME MINDS.
I can't tell you how many times I get stopped each week by people wanting to comment on my foot status. No shoes? In the office? No way! (Or . . . "Zomg, you're wearing shoes today! What do you mean you already knew?") Of course, these are the same people who poo-poo my decision to play piano barefoot for church services or my right to wear flip-flops in the winter. Hi. None of your business.
I guess I'm really only bothered by it because I cannot for the life of me figure out what it must be like to be so incredibly boring—no hobbies, no internet connection, no weird birth mark—that you have nothing worth conversing about except my current footwear situation. Get a cat or a dictionary or some knitting needles or something. Good heavens.
Of course, if my feet had their own Twitter account, that would be totally different. That would be interesting.