27 September 2008
The blog, Frogs in My Formula, had a great entry today on an experience she had when her boss asked to borrow her shoes for the afternoon.
"There are certain things that skeeve me out; sharing shoes is one of them," she says.
Boy, I can sure relate.
My mother has a wonderful shoe wardrobe, of very stylish shoes that she picks up at the Hospice of Marin thrift store where she has volunteered for the past 20 or so years. She loves shoes and she has a pair to match every outfit. She rarely pays more than a few dollars for a pair of shoes. Some of them seem to have never been worn.
The whole idea makes my skin crawl.
I mentioned some years ago, when I was still working for Dr. G and learned I was supposed to be giving bone density exams that would involve my touching people's feet every day, that I had a "thing" about feet." I don't like touching other people's feet and the idea of wearing someone else's shoes is really gross to me. It extends even to socks. Even though I put them through the wash, knowing they once were worn by someone else makes me reluctant to wear them.
My mother wonders why I hate shoes. She said that from the very first time she ever took me in to get my first pair of shoes, I cried every time she tried to get shoes for me.
It's very strange. It makes me believe in reincarnation...why we have such odd inborn fears that we can't explain. My grandmother was terrified of mice. I mean terrified. We had to hide my sister's hamster when she came to visit because we were afraid that if she saw it she'd have a heart attack because it looked so much like a mouse. I always figured it came from some very negative experience she had in a former life. What kind of former life might I have had which would have made the toddler me terrified of getting new shoes? Maybe I was a Chinese woman whose feet were bound...?
But anyway, it's one of the things that make me go "ewwwww." It helps that my weight and age and the fact that I go barefoot so much of the time have made my feet so big that nobody would want to borrow my shoes because they're too big.
There are other things that make me go "ewww." Much as I wanted to be the perfect mother, who smiled as she cleaned up her children when they were sick to their stomach, I never could do it without retching. Walt did most of the cleaning up after the kids, while I felt guilty.
Bugs make me go "ewww." Usually once or twice a year, we go through "cockroach season," where we may find one or two in the house after dark. We're usually able to get rid of them in a few days, but I no longer get up in the middle of the night and stumble around in the dark. Must have the lights on and if there is a cockroach in the bathroom, I debate if I really have to use the facilities or if I can wait a few hours.
In fact last night I dreamed that the house was overrun with bugs and that there was an enormous clusters of cockroaches in the wall and ceiling of our front hall with a huge, 3-4 foot long bug upside down on the ceiling. Believe me, that was a major "ewww"!!!
Foods that smell funny make me go "ewww," and don't ask me to eat anything that has a slimy consistency.
Or liver. Please, no liver. Ewww.
For Walt and Marta, it would be onions (which I love). The texture of onions is a major turn-off for both of them (which makes cooking a big family meal so challenging).
There are lots of things that feel icky to us, some make sense, some
don't. What I find icky, you might not find icky. The video that I've put as
"photo of the day" might put at least one of them in perspective.
MILES TO NOWHERE: 72 miles