Showing posts with label purple toenails. Show all posts
Showing posts with label purple toenails. Show all posts

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Of Course I have Purple Toes!




Yup! I have Happy Purple Toenails!

Fun!~ Sailboat Framed by Legs n Feet by JOn's ~=:-) view

Normally, My toes are colored purple, and there is no hair to be found anywhere on my body.
I say normally, because today, that was not the case. I seem to be neglecting a few of the important things lately.

Today, I realized how far out of balance things are for me right now.
If My Legs have Hair, that is not good.
If my toenails are not colored purple, that is even worse!
I just got out of the shower, and once again, The Only hair that exists is on my head. And My Toenails are once again Purple. Ahhhh, Much Better! :)
For many, this would be a surprise to find a hairless man with purple toenails. But for those who know me, these are considered normal parts of who I am. For a good portion of my teenage, and adult life, I did keep these mostly a secret. But since 2005, I have never hidden it, nor been ashamed of it. Oddly enough, I started not hiding this part of who I am at the same time as I came Out of the Naked Closet. Most people would categorize painted toenails, or a shaved body into some sort of sexuality-based thing. That would be their lack of understanding, and their own desire to make it something it is not. I fail to see the connection. There is absolutely nothing sexual about my toes, or my lack of body hair, yet for whatever strange reason, most people wish to make them sexual. Most people feel they need to fit everything someone does into a certain category for their own comfort about it. Silly people… there are no categories of any kind that fit me, and likewise there are no categories I could be fit into. If one must categorize anything I do to make themselves more comfortable, then there is only one category that could possibly be applied: That would be the Jon-Category.

It really is that simple. I was created unlike any other human on this Earth. That means plain and simple, there is not anything someone could attempt to compare, or group me with. Most of what I do is about what fits my character, personality, and makes me feel good about myself.


Oddly enough, most people would attempt to somehow link my naked lifestyle with the shaved body, and the purple toenails. This always baffles me. Why would they want them to somehow be connected? Each of these is a completely separate thing, and there really is no way to interconnect them. I guess if you really wanted to stretch it, you could go with the fact that I shave while I am naked (because it would be almost impossible to do while clothed!) I also color my toenails before I put my socks and shoes on (because it would be almost impossible to do once the socks and shoes were covering them!) So I guess, that would be the only way to connect naked to each of the other items.

Ha! After writing this, I realized they do in fact have one thing in common: They each are a great way to determine if my life is where it needs to be, or if it is somehow out of balance. If my life is in balance, I am getting plenty of quality naked time, My toenails will be purple, and I won’t have a stitch of hair anywhere on my body. If any one of these is out of sorts, then it is likely all three will also be. But those would serve only as visible means to measure the balance. Internally, there is a greater battle going on which I most likely have been fighting, and trying to sort out long before I realize I have forgotten to color my nails, or to shave.
So, that brings us to: Why do I do It?

I’ll start with the Purple toenails, since I was coloring them long before I would ever grow any body hair.
Fun!~ Sailboat beyond Happy Purple Toes :)

To me, toenails are a perfect item to be colored. They are just so plain, and often look like they are screaming for something to be done with them. My question is: Why would you not paint your toenails? Have you ever looked at them? You cannot do a whole lot with toes, and other than balance, they really are there for decorative purposes only. So, ya have ten little piggies sticking out looking for some way to feel important. We often cover them in socks, and shoes, and they are hidden. Then when we finally do uncover them, they do absolutely nothing to make you smile, or appreciate them. They are just there. Boring, plain, sometimes kinda ugly looking. When ya remove your shoes, do your toes give you something to smile about? Do they give you a feeling of happiness, or brighten up your world in any way? Do they look just like everyone else’s all around you? Plain, and kinda just there, without anything to feel good about? Imagine you were a toe, and you were neglected and left plain, boring and could never make someone smile? If you were that toe, you might start to develop some way to get noticed. Often toes looking for attention turn funny shapes, or colors. Now You have a toe that gets noticed, but it hardly makes ya smile. In fact you will likely hide your toes if this was happening. But imagine if you colored your toenails in a color (or many colors) that actually made you smile when you saw it. You would happily remove your shoes and socks at the end of a long day, and without even trying, you would see the colored piggy, and it would make you smile! If there were other people around, it would make them smile, too!

When did I start coloring my toes? Good question! I do not recall exactly when I started doing it, but I do recall every girl I ever knew always wanted to paint my toes while she was painting her own. Often the sisters of my friends were excited when I would come to their house, because their brothers would not allow their nails to be painted. This started as far back as I can remember when I was a little kid. I Always let them do it, too! I could never understand why most boys would run away from these girls. Are you kidding me? A Girl wants to hold your foot, and paint on your toes? Of Course the answer is yes! The foot is filled with more nerve-points, and reflex-points than anywhere else in the entire body. The foot is the gateway to almost every single organ, and part of your body. (Have you ever seen a reflexology chart?) To have someone willingly want to touch, hold, and do something that felt so wonderful, of course the answer was always yes. Then afterwards, you got the added bonus of having toes that made you smile! It did not take long before I was painting their toes, and they were painting mine. Both you, and the girl always had a good time, and went away with happy soles (pun intended). That is what friends do for one another. The part I could not understand was when other boys would see the colored toes, and attempt to make fun of me. I learned early on that boys did not appreciate girls, and they were very mean to other boys. I had a few friends who were boys, but not many. The way they acted, I was not interested in hanging out with anyone who treated others that way.

I also learned that I needed to remove the polish soon after they were painted because once they started to chip, they looked really bad. So often, my toes would be colored for only a couple days then plain for many days. When they were plain, I always looked at them as sad, lonely, plain toes. I learned early in life that color made life better. But I had not mastered the skill of doing my own toenails, so I always had to wait until someone else wanted to paint them. I always asked everyone why they did not paint their toes, and most people would come up with answers like “That’s only for little girls.” Or “It is too much trouble.” Only the friends who were girls would paint my toes. I could not get any adult to do it. I could not understand why people would limit themselves in such a way. I would say “If it makes you smile, isn’t it worth it?” But most people did not appreciate that.

A Lot changed suddenly in my life when we moved to Oregon when I was twelve. Along with everything else that was difficult, I seldom got my toenails painted. Occasionally I would, but not very often for many years. Once I moved to Medford, I started painting my own, and often other girls would paint them for me. But mostly, by this time in my life I totally hid all creative expression from most people. There were a few people who I let get to know the real me, and they appreciated the colored toenails, but it was hardly publicly visible. I always used a variety of colors, of my own choosing. Each girl had her own favorite color, and would often have a favorite color she used only on my toes. So, those who knew me well, could tell which girl had painted my toes based on the color. I always found it odd all my life that most boys were actually afraid to have their toes colored. They always claimed that they liked girls, but they would not want a girl to touch them, or even see their feet. Weird.

Once I was an adult, I often had colored toes. I did not work to hide them, but I also did not work to make them public, because of how I was treated when I was younger. Often, because I always have friends with children, most people would just assume they were colored because a child wanted to color them. I did not work hard to tell them otherwise. If that was what they needed to tell themselves to make it acceptable, ok fine. Every time I would get a new female friend, they would be pleasantly surprised to find out I knew how to paint their toes. The funniest ones were the guys whose wives I also was friends with. Most of these women (half-jokingly) called me their “Other Husband”. Their husband was always ok with this, often being the one who started the “rumor”. I had the joy of calling many wonderful women my “half-wife”, without actually having any real interaction of that sort. The guys always loved that their wife had found someone other than them who would allow their toes to be painted. I got the pleasure of having my toes done by wonderful women, and also got to tease their husband about how much they missed out on from their own wives! But since it was often the husband who initiated this set-up, it was a total win for everyone. (Well, I venture to say the husband is the one who actually lost-out… Again, I could not understand why so many men would not want a woman, especially the woman they married to touch them, but would rather watch as their own wife gave me the joy! Men are strange.) These same men would flat-out deny to anyone else that this had happened, even when their wife was right there saying it had. I always wondered what was wrong with these men, and why they were so afraid of happy toes.


Happy Purple Toes on Broadway
By the time I left Oregon in 2005, I was fully allowing my colored toes to be visible to any and all. At some point, I switched from paint to sharpie marker. I discovered how fast and easy the Sharpie was. You could color your toenails, and two minutes later be in the sand and water. If you happened to scuff a toenail, you could just pull the sharpie out of your pack, and touch it up.

A few years ago, I tried Purple, and ya know what they say about Purple: “Once You go Purple, You Don’t Go back!”
Happy Feet in a Perfect Sky! :)

So, for many years, My toes have been happily Purple… with an occasionally multi-color, or special-occasion color. I have proudly let my Purple toenails be visible to any and all, and Not a single person has the ability to made me feel anything but happy about who I am.

It always makes me chuckle when someone who has been in my life for a long time suddenly realizes I have colored toenails. For some odd reason, no matter how many times they saw your feet, or no matter how many photos I have posted, occasionally someone discovers the toes for the very first time. I posted this one last month, and a friend from high school, and also a former roommate noticed the coloring. What really struck me as funny was that she and her nieces had painted my toenails when we were roommates. Perhaps she had thought this was just a temporary thing, or thought I only submitted to let them have a fun time. But the funniest part, was she, and another friend both seemed surprised that they were not multi-colored.


when it Rains in Vegas 005

Perhaps the reason the toenails were noticed this time was because of the setting. Normally the pictures seem fitting for bare-feet activity, and the toenails do not stand-out as much.
This photo was showing how I had to traverse the deep puddles that accumulate in Vegas when it rains. Since I was wearing rolled-up jeans, and a rain jacket, the sandals and Purple toes tend to stand-out.

I Love having Happy Purple toes, and when I neglect to keep them properly colored, that is a prime indicator of something is not quite right in my life-balance. I am working through some struggles right now. There are many things I am attempting to find peace with going on in my world.

I Knew I needed to make some fast changes for a more positive approach when I found that I had hairy legs, And Did Not have Purple Toenails. I have remedied both of these, and will seek ways to find a better balance while sorting through the troubles that seem to mire me in the muck of a not-so-positive way of life.

I have only touched briefly on the body-hair issue, and it would not be fair to leave it unexplained. There is far more to write, than I could fit into a few brief lines, so I will make the hair post a completely separate posting. (Hopefully soon....)

Meanwhile, I would love to hear about your own colorful, happy toenail adventures!
I Hope you have a wonderful, positive, and colorful day! ~=:-)

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

My Favorite Blanket Came out of Storage Last Night

Morning Coffee, and My Favorite Blanket by JOn's ~=:-) view
My Favorite Blanket came out of storage last night.
Yesterday was Labor Day. To many people in The U.S., it marks the unofficial end of summer. The reason it is unofficial, is because that is usually the last long weekend they have while the weather is still good. Often schools begin again immediately following Labor Day (although lately many across the nation have begun in August). The Official end of summer is not actually until the Fall Equinox, September 21st. However, when Labor Day arrives, one notices dramatic changes in the season.

I am currently living in Las Vegas. Vegas is in The Mojave Desert, so it would come as no surprise that we see temperatures well-above 100 degrees all summer long. I moved here in February from Oregon, specifically to enjoy the warm climate. March, and April, the temps started to warm up enough that I could sleep with the windows wide open, but still needed a blanket. By the time June came around, I had long since packed-away all the blankets, and occasionally needed a sheet while sleeping. Once July came, we had daily temperatures that were never below 100 degrees, often mid-day saw 110-115. I Leave my windows wide open, and they face south, so my apartment would easily reach 110-115 by evening. Ahhhh, The most perfect climate for me! During the night, I would sleep with a fan in the window, and one at the foot of my bed. Never needing even a sheet, and I Loved it! By morning, the temperature outside had dropped to about 90 degrees, sometimes in the 80’s, but it not got “chilly”. (My body defines chilly as anything below 80 degrees.) This is just how my body is, I have no say-so in how I was made. I am comfortable at anything above 80, and chilly at anything below 80.

Irony: Yesterday was Labor Day. It was also the very first day in many months where the temperature did not reach 100. Vegas had clouds, and drizzle all day. Do ya suppose the Sun decided it was done with summer, and took a holiday?  The sunsets are now happening right around 7 and completely dark by 8. It was less than a month ago, I could watch the sunset around 9, and darkness did not come until 10. I have watched as the arc of the sun has gotten dramatically lower, and high-noon now casts a quite long shadow. The sunrises are not happening at 5 anymore. The first signs of daylight are not until 6.

With Temperatures below 100 yesterday, and a breeze last night, I pulled out my favorite blanket before bed. I knew it would get chilly by morning. It did. My apartment was close to 70 degrees when I woke at 5 this morning. Outside was 72 degrees with a cool breeze. I always make my coffee, and go enjoy the morning on my balcony. I love everything about being outside as much as possible. Watching the day come to life with a fresh cup of coffee, in my comfy chair on my balcony is a beautiful way to start the day. Even in the City of Las Vegas, one can find nature all around them if they look. I hear an owl every morning in a nearby tree. I see birds looking for breakfast, I see the stars fade, as the dawn breaks. I see the color f the sky turn from black, to grey, to light blue, to pinks, purples, and finally brilliant blue as the sun reports for work every morning.
I usually can come and enjoy my morning on the balcony without even a blanket. This morning, was a bit too chilly for me. For me, needing to grab a blanket is not a bad thing. But I do not grab just any blanket. I HAVE THE MOST WONDERFUL BLANKET ever created, and it is MY FAVORITE BLANKET! What makes this blanket so wonderful?

On my 37th birthday in 2005, I was living in the garage of my best-friend’s house. I had gotten pneumonia again. I was working too many hours, and running myself ragged. I came home from work, and the ONLY thing I wanted to do was crash-out, and sleep. My friend (Cara) texted me when she saw me pull in the driveway to ask me to come inside the house for a few minutes. I wanted to ignore the text, and just go crash-out. There are many people I can just ignore, and a rare few that I absolutely could not. Cara was one of those few I cherished, and would not ignore. I had to go see what she wanted. When I walked inside, she could see how horrible I felt. She hugged me, and told me to stand there a minute. Then she came out, and wrapped a blanket around me. She hugged me, held me, and said “Happy Birthday.” Even in my wishing I were dead sickness, I could see the love that was just wrapped around me!

This, I Knew was THE MOST WONDERFUL, LOVE-FILLED Birthday present I had ever received! This blanket was the first one I had ever had that was actually longer than I was. It was not a tiny little blanket. Nor was it a skimpy, almost worthless thing that someone just threw together fast. The colors matched my personality perfectly, the yarn was heavy, and the knitting was done perfectly! As I admired this wonderful work of craftsmanship (or craftswomanship), She explained how hard it was to create. It was no small little knitting project she could easily stuff under a cushion when I came in. It was twice as big as she was, and not a light-weight, easy, fast project. She had found a yarn that matched my personality perfectly. The color was variegated, starting at the darkest blue possible, going through the entire color-spectrum all the way to the lightest yellow possible.

This blanket was knit to have plenty of warmth, but with large enough holes in the pattern to for it to allow air both in and out. It created warmth, but never made me sweat. I could be warm, and still feel the fresh-air through it. One of my favorite things to do at night is to watch the stars wearing nothing at all. This is not always easy when it is cold outside. This blanket became my star-gazing wrap. I could still feel like I was nekkid, yet have warmth. I could feel the night-air, yet not be freezing parts off.

There were many things I left behind when I (literally) ran-away from life as I knew it in Oregon in August of 2005, But this blanket was not one of those things. While I am not trying to make light of that whole situation by just glossing-over it, I only mention it to show the reference and importance of this blanket, and what it represented. (Eventually, I will write in detail about that event).
When one is running away, there also is irony: Every night when I would find a secure place to sleep a few hours, what did I wrap myself in? Yup, even sleeping under the stars in a corn-field, I slept with only the wrapping of Cara’s blanket. It Helped. After I settled in Virginia, and was back in contact with Cara again, one of the first things she asked me was, “You didn’t get rid of the blanket, did you?” We both understood what this blanket was. I even took it into The Salvation Army Shelter. Even though I knew it was a risk, because nothing was safe in that place…. But I also believe there is more in this blanket than just yarn. As Cara put herself into this blanket, God also wove himself into every fiber. (No, I am not saying this blanket IS God, nor do I worship this blanket AS God). I Believe God has a hand in all things created with love.

Virginia has some of the most breath-taking thunderstorms I have seen. They often came through during a summer night. I always went outside to watch them, wrapped in only this blanket. I would sit on the hood of my car, leaning against the windshield, and using the cover of the carport to stay just out of the storm’s drenching. Even in summer, the storms blew cold. The wind, and rain were wild! In this blanket, I was kept warm, yet through the large holes, I could feel every bit of nature in it’s fury. The wind and rain would hit my skin, the blanket would be wet, but I never got cold. I had two wonderful neighbors there. Lucy was a 22-year old college girl. Sandy was a 42-year old lady who had never met a male she could trust. Often, they would come and join me on the hood of my car, and all three of us would wrap in this blanket. They each were so completely different in everything about their lives. Lucy loved to be naked, and loved the storms. Sandy would never go naked (except on Memorial Day.. You can read about that here: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2012/06/get-naked-on-roof-for-memorial-day.html ) , and was scared to death of storms. All three of us fit perfectly. Sandy, the one who would never go naked, and even was not comfortable seeing naked until she met us, for some reason found comfort in the company of two who were not at all uncomfortable with it. She also found comfort and safety in a storm from two people who not only loved storms, but went out into them. I say it was the blanket ~Grin~ You decide.

This Blanket has traveled across The United States twice. It has moved to new homes along with me dozens of times. It has held me close, kept me warm, and reminded me there is love. There is not a single time I use it, or even see it, that does not make me smile.

The photo at the top of this page was taken at 5:30 this morning. The first chilly morning. This is Wonderful! Coffee, Early morning Chill, and THE MOST WONDERFUL BLANKET EVER CREATED!

Thank You, Cara! I Love You, and always feel your loving, caring, hands in every stitch against my body.