Feet
7:44 p.m. - 2003-01-30
I don't think I could kiss Joe Millionare without making gagging sounds...seriously.
I went to the doctor today about some toe pain. Every once in a while I get this toe pain which is, at times, almost crippling. I have been diagnosed with everything from gout to arthritis. This doctor seemed to really know what he was talking about. He said that my foot is really fucked up. I'm like, "Seriously, I have been telling people this all my life. I have never been able to even walk on the beach barefoot without extreme pain. I know that my foot is fucked up." He said, "Damn, you think niggas would see that fuckin' third ankle bone and know whassup 'n shit!" Okay, he didn't say it like that, but he did notice my extra bone which no other doctor has ever been concerned about. The pain is actually something I've just come to accept. So, he is like, "Good God woman, get thee to a podiatrist!" No, he didn't say that, but wouldn't it be cool if doctors talked like that? He said I need to wear special shoes. He said the only time I should ever have these special shoes off is in the shower and laying down. So, all I have to say, ladies and gentlemen is, "These special shoes better be God damn spectacular. They better be right off the runway from fucking Paris." If not, I'll be fine the way things are. (me, looking at my beautiful, full shoe rack...looking away, looking back...hi Polo boots, hi Sketchers, hi Tommy Hilfiger flats, hi Ralph Lauren casuals, hi Polo sport shoes, hi Cole Haan sandals that I have almost danced the soles off, hi 2 kinds of lace up boots...looking away, looking back...I may not have money to pay the bills; but dammit I gotz shoes!)