I've never been too much of high maintenance girl. I don't think there's anything wrong with it, mind you, and a lot of the reason I'm not may be financial... but this Saturday I am getting a pedicure and manicure for the first time. I'm actually sort of excited, and sort of nervous.
Aside from reading news coverage of the flesh-eating disease that proliferated in pedicure foot tubs a few years back, I am nervous about the lady seeing my nasty wintery feet. I feel weird having someone tend to my feet... I mean, it's sort of a nasty job and makes me feel weird asking someone else to clean my feet up.
As far as the manicure, I have really weird hands due to my genetic disorder. People never notice it until I point it out, but I'm sure someone with the sole purpose of tending to my hands will notice and I will have to explain to her that since I don't really have thumb nails, she only needs to do eight digits. Will she feel like she has to prorate my session? Weird.
I am on campus and don't have a camera readily available as to show you my hands, but let me find a photo on an NPS site. All us NPS-ers have the same hands.


Okay. Here I am!

So, I don't really have thumb nails, like this person. I do have index finger nails, unlike this model. But, I don't have distal joints on those fingers, like the model, meaning I can't bend the tops of my index fingers. There isn't a joint there. My nails on those fingers are really flat, so I could never affix fake nails to them. These fingers also have a weird crook in them, because of the deformed skeletal features I have. Of course, my left index finger is exacerbated by the time I broke it by accidently ramming into my friend John's bony ass while on stage... anyway...
So I'm going to get a manicure and I think that it's funny, considering at some moments in my childhood I would tuck my thumbs inside my fists to hide them, wouldn't wear shorts or skirts because the skeletal structure of my legs are sort of...funny... and I have a huge scar on my right knee from trying to correct said structural problems. And now I am willingly giving my hands to the scrutiny of a manicurist.
I always think it's sort of rude when people inquire about WHEN David and I will have children. When I tell them we don't ever want to, I am amazed by the even more ignorant question, WHY? Now, these people aren't family or friends asking. I don't mind discussing my life with people already in my life. But I think it's rude to assume you have the right to ask about anyone's personal life if you aren't a part of it. But, I don't ignore the question. I tell them that I don't really want to risk passing NPS to my child... and while that is one of many reasons that we have decided to remain childless by choice, it's a good one to throw out there because it makes the person feel really bad for asking. I don't tell them that NPS is a pretty livable condition and that my kids, even if they inherited it, would have even less NPS-related afflictions than I do. I just let them think what they want, feel badly for prying, and think of me as a martyr.
It usually ends my conversation with said eegit (forgive my Irish heritage) more quickly than, "David and I just prefer pit bulls..."
One day maybe we'll adopt one of the 130,000 kids up for adoption in the U.S. before creating a new life...or maybe I'll get knocked up and all of a sudden be really excited about it. But right now that's not the plan.
And I don't see how that is anyone's issue but mine. Well, David, too, I GUESS! :o)
But, alas, here it is, on my blog, for all to see. Now you don't have to ask.