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My hands, 2006-05-18, 5:04 p.m.


When I work out, I dislike so many parts of my body. The way my stomach rolls when I'm bending over. My thighs pressed tight against the machine, as wide as they could be. The feel of me, bending in odd ways and thus feeling odd. It's not that I hate who I am usually, but putting the boddy in odd contortions makes it feel odd and enhances things that aren't usually enhanced.
However, I was marching in place and moving my hands. I just happened to look down at them. I have some great hands. Sure the fingers are pudgy, the nails bitten, but they look strong. They look like they can deal with life.
That's nice.


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