Tag Archives: feet

Fear…blah blah blah…Dark Side pt. 2

As a continuation of what I am now going to call my “neurotic fear series,” this is my list of my more abstract fears:

1. Heights. I think this one came more with age, because in my head, I still like heights. Roller coasters are, like, totally wicked awesome and I have this idea in the back of my mind that I will one day bungee jump or scale a rock wall (and to anyone who was with me this past weekend as I had a freakout on a rock: my bad. That was weird even for me.). But I think being a tall klutz has ruined heights more me. I fall a lot. In my volleyball days, I would jump up to hit the ball, but my legs would get really excited about the whole jumping process that they would forget how to land properly. It’s a long way to the ground. And I’m tired of spraining and bruising things.That, and I once read this article about a lady who went skydiving and her parachute didn’t open. So she plummets to the earth (as one might expect) and dies (again, as one might expect). But she landed on a red ant hill and they bit her and the shock of all that venom (or insert actual scientific explanation here) BROUGHT HER BACK TO LIFE. CAN YOU EVEN FUCKING IMAGINE!

So yeah, when I’m riding that horrific gondola at the San Diego zoo or on a shaky ski lift, I’m partly scared that I’ll die, but I’m also scared that I’ll live.

2. Feet. I really don’t feel like I should have to explain myself with this one, since I have met other people with a similar distaste for this body part. But feet are just the worst. If there was some sort of intelligent design when creating the human body, someone got really lazy when it came to feet.

They’re almost kinda sorta like hands, but they marinade in shoes all day. Every day. Marinading in foot juices. And you stomp around on them. Even the words associated with feet are horrifying: bunyons, corns, plantar fascitis. I’m going to write a horror movie and call it “Bunyon” or “The Attack of the Giant Corns” or even just “Foot.”

3. Falling asleep near me at inappropriate times. This one drives my family batshit bananas because if we’re watching a movie in the living room at night and they start to nod off, I’ll start interrupting with inane questions to try to keep them from sleeping.

“Oh hey, um, is that the bad guy? What’s he, like, doing?”
“Lisa, shut up.”
“I’m just saying, if you’re going to go to sleep, your bed is just at the top of the stairs.”

My mom is pretty convinced that it’s a manifestation of some sort of fear of abandonment, but honestlyI just think it’s rude. Especially if you know that you make noises. Or your mouth is going to hang open weird.

It makes long-distance travel kind of tough too. Sitting on a plane next to a stranger. What if he falls asleep? Fine, I can deal. But what if he falls asleep and his head starts to loll and it lands on my shoulder? What if he snores? I CAN’T HANDLE IT.

Similarly, I’m afraid to have other people see me sleep. I assume they find it just as distasteful as I do. My body doesn’t allow itself to fall asleep on plane rides. It just doesn’t.

I’m so tired, guys.

The worst kind of toe cleavage

Tonight I was at the gym minding my own business while keeping up a steady pace to Mulan’s “Be A Man” song, when I noticed a particularly handsome fellow.

Since this is an anomalous sighting for my gym at the time I usually attend, I was a little caught off guard. But pleased. Of course pleased.

So I do the standard check-out. I look at his face: nice. I look at his body: oh, very nice. And then I look at his feet. AND I SEE THESE:

A monstrosity of a shoe if there ever was one.

And just like that, my mind-lust turned to mind-mockery. Yo, I don’t CARE if they’re better for you–the barefoot movement is one thing if you’re playing beach volleyball, but keep your nerdy little feet-shaped shoes out of my eye-line.

Yes, I realize a lot of this vitriol has to do with my foot phobia. Why do you ask?

Why, hot gym guy? Why did you do this to me? I can’t ogle you after this! All I wanted to do was objectify someone at the gym, and now I can’t even do that. Thank you.