Monday, November 21, 2011

My mom bought me socks. These socks are ostensibly the same size, yet the sock on my left foot persistently rides higher on my ankle, by roughly an inch, than the one on my right foot . The asymmetry here is perturbing in a "my voice sounds like that!?" kind of way. It makes me wonder if it's my feet that are bizarro reflections of each other, or if maybe my ankles are constructed at different heights. I also can't rule out that I may have one leg freakishly that outsizes the other and by some trick of my brain or complete epic fail of self-awareness never noticed it.

When I look at my feet without socks there is no discernible difference in size or shape. The flaws in their mirroring only seem to appear when outside apparatus draw attention to it.

Of course, we're all asymmetrical in some manner or another. If I stare myself down real hard in the mirror I can see one ear floating above the other. It's a real jab in the mismatched eye. I think it's less about vanity (though there's definitely some of that) than it is about missing the details. If I can look at the reflection of myself for 29 years and only maybe twice a year see the halloween-ish nature of the true me (which I figure, considering how often I look in the mirror in a year and how many opportunities I have to notice these things, probably means I'm fairly symmetrical), it makes me wonder what else I'm missing.

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