I've always preferred to go about barefoot if I can, even playing outside barefoot whenever feasable, in my younger days. (Stopped for a long time after stepping on a nail once when we lived in the country.) But I never had a problem with socks and shoes most of the time; though one good thing about summer is that I get to wear flip-flops, which is a lot like being barefoot. Djao'Kain, on the other hand, dislikes anything on Her feet so strongly that any attempt of mine to imagine Her in shoes or socks fails. Like, it's one of the few things I can't imagine at all.
Lately, I think I've been shifting these past few weeks toward Djao-Kain's perspective on barefootedness. I've been getting stronger and stronger urges to go barefoot and sometimes even going about with my legs exposed. I used to sometimes forget to take off my shoes and socks when I got home, but I don't anymore; it's all I can do to keep them on when I'm outside the apartment. If all I'm doing is laundry or checking the mail, I go out barefoot. And the other day when coming back from Brooke's, it was raining, and I walked halfway home barefoot before the texture of the sidewalk became too much to tolerate. I seriously think that if my feet were calloused enough to ignore rough sidewalk textures, and even to barely notice gravel, that I would just stop wearing shoes altogether (except keep a pair with me to go into buildings like restaurants). A part of me is like "That's insane, inside the city!" But it's how I feel anyway. Yet so far, I'm resisting; my feet aren't ready for that yet anyway, and I don't know how smart it is to go barefoot in a city where Goddess only knows what kinds of dangerous stuff is on the sidewalks and roads.
Also, having to resist the urge to wear short skirts in the winter cold. If I only did it like 10 or 15 minutes at a time, I'd be fine, but longer than that would make me too cold. (It doesn't help that coldness makes me horny.)
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Had another physical therapy session yesterday for my legs, because I need to keep my legs stretched out to be able to walk at top speed without getting achy calves. Last time she did deep tissue massage on my legs with her hands, after warm-ups and stretches. This time, after warm-ups and stretches, she massaged my legs with these tools that were part of some process called ASTYM. It was... interesting. Intense. And, well, it made me horny, too. It would make great stimulation play; it didn't hurt, exactly, but was right on the edge between uncomfortable and painful. She said there could be bruising. I don't see any yet, so looks like I escaped bruising. Also, she said that one guy she did it to started to cry. I can understand that; I tensed up and gritted my teeth sometimes while it was happening, which I didn't do for the deep tissue massage.
My physical therapist is pretty, too. I've also been wondering since I met her what race she is, because she looks almost Indian or Pakistani, but not that, I think; half one of those with half something else, maybe. Some kind of mix, anyway. It's a good mix, if so, and the world would be better with more of the same, I think. Anyway, I keep wanting to ask her, but I don't know if I should; I'm afraid of offending her. Knowing her personality as I have gotten to do so far, I doubt she'd mind the question if asked tactfully, (she'd probably laugh and then answer, probably quipping that she gets that a lot) but I still haven't been able to pluck up the courage to ask. Anyway, I'm envious of her appearance, at any rate.
*Sigh* I'm really annoyed by humanity's stupid tendency to be negative about racial differences. Genetically, it isn't much different from different hair colors; the whitest human and the blackest human have less genetic difference between them than a husky and a golden retriever have between them, and genetic diversity is what enriches species and keeps them going, and humans have so little. I would never claim to be color-blind. Not anymore, anyway; I did, years ago, which was a misnomer. I didn't realize that the key word there is "blind," and so "color blind" has never been anywhere NEAR accurate for me. Different colors are beautiful, different cultures enrich us all, and people should be proud of their heritage, as long as that pride doesn't cross over to feelings of supremacy. And the key to a truly enriching mixed society is a total lack of feelings of supremacy; we must all value each other's points of view, as long as those points of view don't get zealous. Which would not happen if we could get rid of the bullshit notion of supremacy.
It may be hard to believe, but I even respect Republicans' points of view, as long as they don't try to force their beliefs on others. Which they tend to do, so that's why I have so many issues with them. Compromise is key, but the GOP doesn't seem to understand or care what "compromise" means. I don't care what you believe, as long as you don't assault people with your opinions, and as long as your opinions don't endanger, threaten, or demean others. If you have beliefs like that, keep them to yourself and we'll be okay.
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I have figured out another part of my reading pattern. It seems that stories that are part of a series I love, like anything in the Harry Dresden series or the October Daye series, I can read in a matter of days. But things I haven't fallen in love with, I have a harder time with. Like the Behemoth series by Peter Watts. It is certainly an interesting series, but the first book (Starfish) was difficult to really get into, at least until the second half of the book. The second book, Maelstrom, was excellent and I went through it pretty fast. But the third book, Behemoth, is slow going again. At the rate I'm going, I may finish with it in a month if I'm lucky. Two if I'm not.
I have no idea how long it will take me to get through David Brin's new book, Existence, when I finally get around to it. Brin is my favorite scifi author, but his stuff is pretty hit-or-miss with me, insofar as I either zoom through the book or slog for weeks or months trying to get through it. "Earth" was interesting, and got me into David Brin's works, but it was a hell of a slog. Whereas "Kiln People" was one of those I zoomed through. It's been so long since I read his Uplift trilogies that I forget how long it took me to read those. I only remember "Earth" being a slog because it took a long time for a single book. Oh, and Marion Zimmer Bradley's "Mists of Avalon" took me over three months to get through. Whereas I can zip through the whole Harry Potter series in about a week.
Still baffled, though, by those occasional times when I have been reading something without a problem for half or more of the story, enjoying the story, and then I just stop, for no discernible reason. I got almost all the way to the end of Imajica, years ago, and then just stopped; I never did know why. The same thing happened with L. Frank Baum's "The Enchanted Island of Yew." Had no problem reading it, it made me laugh, I was enjoying it... then one day I just stopped reading it and never went back. I don't know why! The only other thing this has happened to was a novel-length Harry Potter fanfic called "Aurelian." Though in that case, I think the reason I stopped was that it was getting a bit too dark for me.
Well, all for now.
This was cross-posted from
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