Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Jay Nails Popped My Pedi Cherry

I have a weird phobia: anyone touching me below the calves. No one- friend nor foe- is allowed to grab my ankles, massage my feet, touch my toes. To me it's the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard and cause me to convulse involuntarily. I can't control it. I can't explain it. Except to say that as a child, through to my adolescence, I felt my ankles were too thin to support my body and had this irrational fear that they would snap under the pressure. So just accept it as fact. Everyone who knows me knows this to be true and has heard me scream bloody murder if anyone even had an inkling of a thought to touch my feet.

Today, thanks to peer pressure (hi Irene!), I had a...pedicure! For the first time in my life I let some strange Asian woman perform the most cringe-worthy maneuvers on my tootsies and I'm still alive to tell the tale. Had it not been for the fact that I firmly believe in the superstition to appease every whim of a pregnant woman lest you be cursed, I never would have gone through with it.

So how was it? It was not without it's traumatic moments. Twice she grabbed my ankles and I winced and grimaced so she finally got the message not to do it again. When she was filing the nails on my toes I thought I was going to die. Luckily I still remembered my Lamaze breathing and had Tara Reid's botched plastic surgery story to help distract me. When she pulled out the pumice stone I had the strongest desire to get up and run away barefoot onto Eighth Street, but I composed myself and concentrated on whether or not the Us Weekly readers really thought that Scarlett Johanson was the sexiest woman alive. By the way, 67% agree.

Would I do it again? I suppose it wasn't so bad, but I would not make a weekly ritual of it. Maybe if I'm going to a wedding or on vacation, I'll bite down on a leather strap and get it over with, but other than that I'm happy with giving myself a pedicure, thank you very much.

And this certainly does not mean that my phobia has disappeared. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT attempt to grab my ankles, massage my feet OR touch my toes (this means you, Mari). Unless of course you have a death wish...I'm just saying...

* a sexy new shade of red*
to all the people out there tonight
who are comforting themselves
if you should happen to see my light
you can stop and ring my bell