It’s two in the morning, and I just got back from an almost three-hour walk. A friend of mine recently said this sort of thing was dangerous, but I’ve yet to have a problem. Most the town is well-lit, there aren’t any cars out, and so far the animals have left me alone. Plus, it’s Van Buren. That being said, I did have a shirtless guy follow me for about two blocks tonight, so I kept glancing back over my shoulder–not because he was shirtless, but because it’s odd for me to see others when I’m out (and maybe I’m paranoid). Well, the guy must have read my mind because he said, “I’m not following you–I’m just going the same direction you are.” I said, “No problem–have a good night,” but thought, Oh, thank god, he doesn’t want to kill me.

I mean, who wants to die in stretch pants?

This afternoon I read part of one book, finished another (the creativity workbook I’ve been reading for three months), and started another. Then while I was walking, I listened to a lecture, an interview, and the first several chapters of a book on tape. I loved all of it, but my brain is currently mush, so don’t ask me to tell you what any of it was about. I don’t think I could even tell you what my name is at this point. Also, after walking so long, I have a kink in my back and my feet smell like a jock strap. I really wish burning calories didn’t have so many side effects.

Now the house is mostly silent. Mom’s got chemotherapy tomorrow, so she’s sleeping, or at least trying to. Normally she’d be up and the television would be on. I usually think of it all as a distraction from writing, but now that things are so quiet, all I want to do is sleep. Oh, yuck, there’s a big bug, maybe a beetle or a cockroach, crawling across the living room floor. Okay, it’s gone now. (Out of sight, out of mind.) Anyway, maybe I can find a point here somewhere, wrap this up, brush my teeth, and go to bed.

Maybe.

For lunch today–okay, fine, it was breakfast at noon–I met a friend at Friday’s. When I got home, my Dad said, “You ate at Friday’s on a THURSDAY?” I said, “Dad–duh–it’s ALWAYS Friday at Friday’s.” Besides brunch (we’ll just call it brunch), I really can’t convey just how underwhelming the day was. I went to Kinko’s and the post office, and–if it’s not already obvious–I didn’t get laid at either location. Later, in the middle of book number one, I took a nap. Of course, if you’re older than thirty-five, you know–this was actually the most exciting part of my day. Well, that and the meatball sub I had for dinner.

And did I mention I live with my parents?

In other news, my car, Tom Collins, is no longer a Christian. If it’s even possible, he’s lost his salvation. More accurately, I took it from him. I’ll explain. When I got Tom Collins a couple months ago, the previous owner had put a “Jesus fish” (ichthus) on the back. Well, I like Jesus just fine, but I’ve never been one for putting bumper stickers on my cars or advertising my spiritual life on the back of my vehicle. (If you do, that’s fine.) Plus–and I’m not kidding–the ichthus symbol was once associated with the goddess Venus and used to represent the vagina, and I’d hate for anyone in traffic to get the wrong idea about me. Anyway, did you know you can take those things off with hair dryers?

Jesus fish decals, not vaginas. (I think those are permanently attached, but I’ve never personally tried to remove one.)

Now that we’re talking about vaginas (and I can’t believe we’re talking about vaginas), I saw a lot of them last night on an episode of Embarrassing Bodies. According to the medical show, most women who have them don’t even look at them, let alone examine them. Y’all, I learned all sorts of things–what a vulva is (it’s not a car I myself would want to drive), how I would give myself a vulva exam–if I had one. Granted, I’m not sure what I’ll ever do with this information, but I still think it’s interesting. Actually, the big takeaway for me was just how shy and non-intimate most people are about their most intimate parts. So many women don’t go for pap smears. Overall, so many people live with unnecessary health problems because they’re essentially embarrassed about their bodies and afraid to talk about them.

Let’s stop that.

Early in my self-help journey, I read a quote by Louise Hay that said, “The anus is as beautiful as the ear.” Sure, it’s not something you’d likely put on a refrigerator magnet or bumper sticker, but I’ve come to see a lot of wisdom in that statement. As a society we’ve said that certain parts of the body are okay and others aren’t. The truth is that all parts of the body are lovely, mysterious, and full of wonder. Likewise, it’s easy to think that certain emotions or experiences are more “okay” than others. You know, there’s just some things we don’t talk about it. But if I’ve learned anything in therapy, it’s that it’s okay to talk about anything (with the right person). In fact, it’s healthier to get it out than to keep it in.

How exactly I went from a long walk and smelly feet to Jesus fish and vaginas, I’m not quite sure. Maybe this is what happens when I read and listen to so many different things that my mind starts to resemble Malt-O-Meal. But I know that I often get hung up on what’s outside–how I look, how other people look–and I’ve often made the mistake of judging a book by its cover. But the truth is you can’t judge a person’s insides by their outsides. Just because a guy has his shirt off doesn’t make him a punk. Just because someone has a fish on their car doesn’t make them a Christian. Lastly, just because something is wrong with your body or feels embarrassing doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.