Freedom is a Detached Nail

I played basketball with Jamie and a couple of other friends on Saturday. It was so intense that after the first two games, I basically played zone in my little corner on the baseline, occasionally waving my arms around to feel active. I was so out of shape that I just couldn’t cut it. Well, I cut a few, but I couldn’t really compete and flourish the way I was used to. I mean, I used to be an awesome basketball player. Back in 1st grade when I was the tallest one out of my group of friends, I routinely overpowered them on my way to a dunk. After all, I was the only one that could palm the Nerf ball.

Unfortunately, my other teammates were pretty good players, so we kept winning and I had to stay on the court. Even Jamie was excellent. Prior to Saturday the only balls I could imagine him playing with were his own. Balls of angst, that is (you perverts). I say unfortunately because this meant that we kept playing and playing and playing. Which meant I had to keep waving my arms and occasionally setting a few picks. It was on one of these picks that someone stepped on my big toe, and the nail that had hung so precariously by a thread of flesh for three weeks finally popped out.

After I went home I put the toenail in my drawer…then I took it out immediately and started admiring it. It’s not very often that one gets a chance to hold a fully formed big toenail in his/her hand. The fact that it was my own made the experience so much more visceral. I had originally planned to put it on Lydia’s pillow as she was coming out of the shower, but I thought better of it and placed it back in my drawer. I would later tell the a-yi to boil it and make a nice soup stock.

The past few days I’ve been walking around in flip flops, just to get a rise out of people on the street. For all the spitting and hawking and nose squirting that happens in Shanghai, you’d think people wouldn’t flinch at the sight of a toenail-less big toe. Oops, that assumption is wrong, my friends. Not only do they gawk, they actually come up and poke. I’d kick them in the face if I didn’t enjoy it so much.

Next post: I’ll try to get my photos from our Vietnam trip up here. But, I’ve been saying that about my Thailand trip ever since May. Be patient, you fluttering hearts!