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Monday, February 8, 2010

Today, I Give Up.

Ok, ya'll. I'm officially deformed and I'm not ok with it, yet. It's not really official, either, but I have a strong feeling that my foot will never be the same. The other day, I was skiing, and my foot had a new inconvienient type of pain on the side by the pinkie toe. Not a major pain, just something I thought I would look into later. As someone who frequently runs into walls while walking and smacks my hands into near by tables and such, I've learned to ignore a lot of pain. Yes, I should pay more attention and go slower, but jesus, I'm doing my fucking best, ok? So, I feel the little pain, assume it will dissappear, but the next day the pain is still there. Only, then, and by then I mean last night, so I sit down and take a look at the problem area. Expecting to find nothing, instead I find my bone right under my pinkie toe is engorged. The damn thing is poking out more than it used to. What? What? What?

My lovely boyfriend is there for this experience. Now, my boyfriend really is lovely. He also has an amazingly wicked sense of humor. He's also really good looking. He was also raised on a farm, is used to bodies getting fucked up by being over-worked, and as a child was run over by a truck. Not much phases this guy. I tell you all this because in the moment I discovered my deformed foot, he laughed at me and said, "Well, I told you to get your ski boot re-fitted. At least now you will."

Obviously, I love him less now. I'm f-ing deformed and the bastard laughed at me and pointed out how my negligence lead to my downfall. Yes, he's right. I'm to blame. My ski boots don't fit right and, apparently, as I've been told many times, it's very important that ski boots fit right. Sorry, dudes. I'm not used to activites that include changing the shape of your bones as a consequence. It has never entered my conciousness that something like that can happen.

Last year, I lost both my toe nails to ski boots. Turns out, your toe nails fall off, it isn't pretty, but they grow back and everything is ok and it doesn't hurt that much. I'm trying to put this whole foot deformity thing in perspective, using how I was really upset to be losing my toe nails, but I survived and thrived as a base for...

No. No. I'm sorry. I just want to move back to Los Angeles or some other form of civilization that has cheep pedicure places and try to become a trophy wife. That's where I'm at today. I was born with wide feet that I've always called dinosoaur feet and been insecure about and now they may just be getting wider and freakier.

Today, my foot hurts and I don't give a damn about becoming a badass. I'd like to stay here writing and try to find some positivity, but I've gotta go get my boot re-fitted. I'm either doing that, or eating toaster struddles and look at apartments in Los Angeles online.


  1. Hang in there. My mom's broken her pinky toe like three times now, and you would never know it once stuck out at nearly a 90-degree angle...

    (Ew! I know!)

  2. Thank you! Just don't point and stare if you ever see me in sandals, please.