To-do: Become robot

Thanksgiving might be my least favorite holiday. Too many people and too much food. I've never been very interested in food-eating, but I think my dislike of eating food isn't so much a problem with food in itself as it is an intimacy problem. I mean, it doesn't get much more intimate than food... that pervert travels its way down my whole body, gets its nutrients all up in my bloodstream... gross.

I go into fight-or-flight mode when someone stands too close to me -- eating is much too invasive. Usually when you have an invasive procedure, they medicate you before they get all up in you. But food has the nerve to just sit there expectantly, waiting to become one with you three times a day. Slow down, food. We just met at the grocery store a few days ago.

It can take me five years to feel comfortable with someone and by that time, food will be rotten. Unless it's not really food, like Twinkies. So the life lesson here is... the ones worth waiting for won't wait for me? See, food, this kind of unsolicited advice is not going to help me open up to you.


RIP Semblance of Basic Decency

There's nothing I can say that hasn't already been said a million times on the internet over the last few days, so how about a moment of silence while we sit in the corner and think about what we've done.


Don't even try to mess with me, frogs.

One day I was stopped at a light on my way to work when I noticed something trying to get my attention out of the corner of my eye. I looked over to see a sign on a post that said something like "Reach for your dreams!" I didn't think much of it because there are actually several places in this town that have encouraging signs like this: "Hug your kids." "Forgive." Etcetera. I figured this was just a new one of those I hadn't noticed before.

But at those other places in town, those signs are permanent. And their messages are sensible. And there are no pictures, only words. At this particular stoplight, some time later I noticed something winking at me again. I caught its eye to see that it belonged to a cartoon fox with hearts all over it. "Hey foxy," the sign flirted. Wow, thought I, Someone is going to the effort of coming out here and putting up new signs for me! (I felt like it was just for me because on a bike it's right there, exactly at eye level, challenging me to resist its charm.) Next it was "You're a Star!" depicted by an unreasonably enthusiastic anthropomorphic star shape. I started to look forward to the new signs, taped up there so neatly. It was always something so illogically optimistic that I wasn't at all encouraged by the message itself, but just by the fact that a mysterious philanthropist was doing this especially for me.

But then I noticed they change sometimes as often as twice a week! Forget the dedication required to keep coming out and switching the signs -- who's coming up with new cutesy sayings all the time? Is it one person, or a team? And how long do they think they can keep this up?! So now I'm just entertained by their ever-expanding creativity. Lately such gems have been:


[Picture of smiling grapes] YOU WERE BORN FOR GRAPENESS

[Picture of hearts and frog] YOU'RE UNFROGGABLE

...uh, excuse me? Just because I don't want to frogg you doesn't mean I'm unfroggable. Did they mean unforgettable?! Unforgettable. Unforogable. Unfroggable. I don't know, that's quite a stretch. Unflappable, perhaps? That's even further off, yet I can't think of anything else. Unless they just meant... unfroggable (n): unable to be frogged. Hmm. Seems like a pretty useless superpower, but I guess I can't negotiate with a signpost.

Gotta love this town even if it reeks of B.O. and pot.


Oh caaaaaancer, I'm reaaaaady!

Every morning I wake up to the thump of my heart still beating like a stupid puppy wagging its tail excitedly for no damn reason. What are you so enthusiastic about? Why don't you just leave me alone?! But it's so persistent, I can't ignore it and if I don't feed it it's just going to get more annoying, so I eventually get up.

I think I'm high on suffering... like on the third day of fasting, when your stomach finally gives up on you and your hunger pangs are exchanged for zen. Like if everyone I loved suddenly perished, I would just laugh. Have I reached nirvana? I'm not even Buddhist. Can I be an honorary Buddhist?

I don't know how to carry this thing. It's like when I walk home from the store with a full bag of groceries including a watermelon against my better judgment. At first it's not so bad and I can hold it by the handles, but soon I have to switch to my other hand, which also quickly fails. Then I hold the bag on my right hip, on my left hip, hug it to my chest, constantly shifting, and when both of my arms get too tired, I balance it on my head. This has its own problems. I consider calling for help, not because it's an option, but just to distract my mind while my body struggles on. I reconsider how much I really need that melon. I start making a plan B for when my arms give out completely and visualize myself rolling the bag down the street in full view of the neighbors getting out of their cars. The nice thing about carrying a heavy bag is that it's a single task, and it's finished as soon as I get home. I don't have to juggle it while going to work, being social, thinking, eating, sleeping. I don't have to be in a constant state of exhaustion.

I super don't want to be alive, yet I'm not at all suicidal. I'm too curious to see what other crazy shit will happen next. So far in my hundred years on this earth (or so it feels), I've been amazed at the variety of suffering available to the human. Just when I think it can't get worse, it gets worse -- not in depth or severity like I expect, but in another form entirely -- a sinister shape, a more putrid flavor, a color more dismal. I wonder if I'm going to get to collect the whole set, because while I have an impressive assortment, there are still many horrible things I haven't experienced yet. This is not even close to the most excruciating pain I've ever felt. I've had the sharp stabby pain and the dark bottomless pain and the vague grey-with-an-E-because-it-seems-bleaker pain. This is more like Chinese water torture in a conscious coma. I have a roof over my head and food to eat and plenty of other things to be thankful for. But it doesn't cancel out anything. It goes the other way, too, though. The suffering doesn't negate the good things. It just makes them brighter, sweeter, more acutely real.

I just want to have problems again instead of my entire life being a crisis.