Podophilia

Did you know there are eight colleges of podiatric medicine (in the U.S. I think... it can't be worldwide)?
Yeah, I didn't know that either... that is, not until I started getting mail from a couple of those damn eight schools.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again: I HATE feet.

It's not like I go around telling people I detest feet... I won't get in people's face for exposing their feet in my presence, either... I just act like feet don't exist. I don't acknowledge that part of the human body (foot fetishists boggle my mind).

Getting contacted by podiatric schools creeps me out in the first place... but the fact that it peaked my interest a little, freaks me the fuck out.
However, my folks become ecstatic each time I receive any sort of mail regarding medical schools (just not when it's the military contacting me... which tends to be the only thing I'll ever read over twice, once in a while, because I wouldn't mind working on people who deserve it: the military men and women of this country. That's my patriotic comment of the week, and most likely, month)... and they think podiatric medicine is fantastic.

Mom: Imagine! You can work on the feet of soccer players!
Me: Yeah... that'd be hot... I'd be touching all these guy's busted up feet... sometimes have their future in my hands, literally. Sexy...
Mom: Oh, like you wouldn't want to work on Cristiano Ronaldo's feet?
Me: I would eat off his feet!! That beautiful creature...
Mom: And Rafa Marquez... and Lionel Messi... and...
Me: Ehhh... they're great footballers... but no... I'd only compliment CR's feet.

This exchange has given my parents hope that I'll return to medicine after a semester--at most, a year-- off from school (not. going. to happen.).

I'll have crazy moments where I'll think:

Damn... it would be fucking awesome to travel with a soccer team and be the one checking out their feet... that'd be fucking great!

But all I have to do is stare at this for a little longer than ten seconds:
...aaaaand I'm good (fuck.that.).