My hands and feets

Personal / Monday, July 18th, 2005


I miss holding hands. It took FOREVER to get Howie to hold my hand in public, not a hand holder. But John…too damn cute. I miss reaching out and touching his pinky finger, my little extra I love you. I got caught by the roommate wearing a pretend engagement ring on *that hand* last summer…oops.

Hands. My hands are not smooth and slender. They are stubby and chubby. I like when my nails are grown and coated with clear polish. Simple. Except for the *hangnail* pulling and tearing I can’t stop doing, every few weeks. But rght now? My hands are perfect. Ready to be held.

I also wanted to mention hands so I could say Kudos to the actors who played Romeo and Juliet at SDP for getting this scene, so right. Thank you.

Romeo: If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth the rough touch with a gentle kiss.

Juliet: Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.

Romeo: Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

Juliet: Ay, pilgrim, lips are things to use in prayer.

Romeo: Oh…O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

Juliet: Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.

Romeo: Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take. Thus from my lips by thine, my sin is purged.

Juliet: Then have my lips the sin that they have took?

Romeo: Sin from my lips! O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.

And now we travel down…to the feet.

My *not 30 anymore* feet still think they’re 10 years old. I’m the queen of barefootness. I hate wearing socks, unless they are tres chic, I have a penchant for funky, colorful, patterned socks! And oh, how I have many that should end up here at the Gallery of Lonely Socks.

Even in the winter, the first thing I do when I get home is shed my socks and run with the bare piggies! Hence, my feet developing a fine 20+ year layer of callous. Peel away a layer and there’s always more! Works well for driveways!

My feet are made for me and me alone. I’m not fond of tickling, touching, or pedicuring. In fact it bothers me. I wear sandals in the summer, only when I’m not barefoot. And I don’t particularly care for painting my toenails. My baby toenail doesn’t exist and I have an aversion to painting only 4 digits and trying for that little lump of toe. I end up annoyed in the end. So I do without. And beside, my feet are pretty much permastained with the hue of *just washed 2 weeks ago wooden floor* and who makes a polish to complement that? 😉

“Going barefoot is the gentlest way of walking and can symbolise a way of living; being authentic, vulnerable, sensitive to our surroundings. It’s the feeling of enjoying warm sand beneath our toes, or carefully making our way over sharp rocks in the darkness. It’s a way of living that has the lightest impact, removing the barrier between us and nature.”

Adele Coombs, “Barefoot Dreaming”


Whatcha talkin' bout Willis?