September 29th, 2009
I can hike for four hours nearly solid with nary an ill health effect, but apparently I can’t take a leisurely stroll down the seawall without ripping all the flesh from my heels. I guess my hiking shoes are less hard on me than my runners, or hiking is less hard on me than walking. In the absence of a randomized controlled trial is it impossible to say for sure but go ahead, make an assumption. I don’t judge.
This has put me in the mind of other failings that this mortal shell of mine commits. I am not the shrimpiest person you’ll ever meet but I am on the short side and this has always been something of a personal tragedy. I have always admired tall women and when they start offering leg implants I will be first in line. Just think of the advantages: for starters I’d be able to reach the high shelves in the kitchen, which in my case includes the liquor cabinet. Also how awesome would I look if I were closer to six feet tall as opposed to my current proximity to five? Answer: super awesome!
I would also like to have skin that could self regulate rather than my own epidermis which requires constant maintenance with moisturizer otherwise I turn into a lizard/raisin hybrid and become indistinguishable from a dessicated mummy. Which is to say dry. I like moisturizing as much as the next person but there are days when I would prefer to skip it but I dare not lest someone set me afire in an attempt to get my evil curse to end.
Also, this is really trivial, but I do wish I had nice long fingers. I got my dad’s hands and though they have great utility for most tasks they will never make it as concert pianists. They are boxy and a little on the stumpy side which causes me to do a lot of wistful sighing when I see women with long fingers.
Finally, I could complain about my eyes here but really, I have been wearing glasses since the fourth grade and I just don’t think of my vision as an issue. Especially once I bought the super light frameless glasses, dealing with my short sightedness is almost effortless and the only time I have to think about it is when I come in from the cold and the lenses fog over and blind me. Or when they get rained on, that’s a hassle. But you know, I wear my glasses for more hours of the day than my underpants so they just seem like part of me. And frankly glasses are less of a hassle than underpants because glasses never give you a wedgie.