The Existential Crisis

Have you ever thought about your existence. Like, truly thought about your existence. Out of thousands of sperm, you came to be because you were the strongest and got to the egg first. What if one had edged you out by just a little bit. You wouldn’t be here now. You wouldn’t exist in the same way. Or what if one of your parents was late to the date, or got caught in traffic on the way back from work and the plans for the evening were stopped? What if your father had not decided to go the college in state and never met your mother? What if your mother had decided to not go on that second date? So many tiny things revolve around your very existence in this very moment. Really think about it. When I think about it, my head starts to spin in all the wrong ways. 

It starts with me looking at my hands. Moving them, considering how I know how to move them. How to make a fist or flick something off or even just making the tips twitch individually. Then I will pace a little bit to think really about how my legs are actually moving in such a way. the bend of the knee. I slow that part down . Literally, just going back and forth, thinking too much about the joint. Then it gets dangerous because this is about the point where I start to go into my own head. My eyes are the beginning. The fact that I can see what’s going on all around me. The fact that I can take it all in even is just incredible really. The dangerous part is when I go even further into my identity. My name is the first think the comes to me. I obviously know my name, no question about it. But who am I really? Am I my name, or is my name me? Does that even make sense or is that pure nonsense? Or is it both. What if my name was different, would I see differently through these eyeballs? Would they even be considered the same eyeballs? 

This is the point where I end up closing my eyes for a little bit and my thought take over like when you pour just a little too much soy sauce in a bowl of rice. It spreads just a little too quickly and changes the contents and their purpose. Not necessarily in a bad way but it hit every crack and crevasse on the way down and soaks through each pieces thoroughly. That’s how these existential crisis thoughts take over my head. My once white rice head is browning, becoming salty and pouring as liquid in the bottom. I question everything about my life. And I mean everything. If I had said “But…” instead of “Well…”, could that have made an alteration in the conversation that completely changed an important aspect of my life? Did the red socks I wore today instead of the blue put me in the exact place I am right now?  Those sorts of question. If I had said one word differently in a conversation that took place a year ago, would I be somewhere else completely? I know that this is walking along the edge of that “butterfly effect” theory but think about it. Actually don’t think about it. Then maybe you can save yourself an afternoon of staring blankly, questioning everything thing that has ever happened to you. It’s not quite as fun as it might sound.

Putting the Fuse in Confused,

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GPS, Please Locate Dream

As the battle rages on, I did not realize that I was dreaming. It was pretty obvious though. Between the ghoulish creatures and the spells being cast with sparks flying around, this was the stuff imagination was born for. However, as with any of the dreams that I am fortunate enough to remember, I of course did not realize that this was actually not real. I fully had immersed myself in the fight for human kinds existence. I was able to fly, that was the part I remembered pretty vividly. I did not know how I knew flight was a skill on my resume, but I did know that I could do it. My parents were there. They were dressed strangely in retrospect but of course in the context, they were dressed exactly how they should have been. Because that’s how dreams work. My mom put the object in my hands. Trying to recall, I do not know what it was or what it did or even what it looked like. But it apparently was important. “Go now!” Mom yells to me as the dangerous creatures grow closer. “You are our only hope,” Dad whispers to me as the chaos continues to ensure behind him. He and Mom give me one last look, the way that parents do to their savior kids in all the great adventure movies. They push me forward and I take flight. I soar higher and higher, and I hear Mom’s yell at me to keep going. To keep flying. To save them all. I race forward when Dad’s voice echoes around me. “Wait! Come back!” What? In this dream of magic and escapade I am suddenly confused for the first time. I whip my head around to see Dad running towards me waving something back and forth above his head. It’s a GPS. The exact one I have in real life that is currently in my car. “You forgot this! You don’t know where you are going! You are going to get lost!” This is the point where I spring awake from my dream. I am breathing pretty hard as I sit up and I can actually feel my heart beating from all the imaginary excitement that was being expressed behind my closed eyelids. But that ending…

I cannot say that I am exactly surprised. My dad has done this before. I get lost all the time, even in places that I have been to multiple times. I have gotten lost more than once in mega Wal-Mart’s (not lost as in I don’t know where the cereal aisle is, I mean lost as in I have been wandering for 20 minutes and can’t find the exit!) So instead of constantly being worried about his meandering daughter, Dad decided to just get me my own GPS. Two notes about this. One, this was before phones had a fancy built in GPS. Two, this was before I was really driving on my own and way way before I had my own car. This was actually partially so I could just get around in general believe it or not. I have, in real life, walked around with a GPS to find a neighborhood friend of whom I couldn’t quite remember the exact location of her house. That was many years ago and I have not lived at home for a while now but Dad always still asks me if I have a GPS with me when I mention that I am leaving my house. And apparently, even when our kingdom is burning down around us, when the trolls and dragons are attacking, when the magic of wizards and knights are barely holding them back, when time is of the essence and the of the lives of millions rests in the hands of his one and only magical flying daughter, he will still make sure that I have my GPS with me. Or else, we are all doomed.

Putting the Fuse in Confused,

~C

10 Things I have done as a grown up that show just how irresponsible I am/ how I am not ready for the real world

1) Left my keys in the door and gone about my day in the house without realizing until one of my roommates come home

2) Ran out of clean underwear, and instead of doing laundry just bought new underwear.

3) Tried to dye my hair by myself and ended up staining the bathroom wall

4) Left the house with my straighter still on

5) Left the house with the stove on

6) Left the house with a candle still burning (see a theme here)

7) Dropped the F bomb in front of a group of very small children

8) Ran out of Pita Chips to eat my hummus with so I used Croutons

9) Jammed out so hard in the car to my favorite song on the radio that I hit my head on the window

10) Made plans to visit friend who was 2 and a half hours away and then at the same time make plans to get lunch with different friend in that same area. First friend cancelled. Didn’t get up the nerve to tell second friend. Ended up driving 5 hours total in one day to eat a 45 min lunch.

Putting the Fuse in Confused,

C

Text Blasting

I am 100% guilty of what I have started to call text blasting and I am hoping that I am not the only one. I have never been one of those people with lots of friends, not that I am completely friendless but I am not one of those people that leave their phone at home accidently and come back an hour later to find 20 text messages. The thing about text messages, at least for me, is that they are little bits of instant gratification. Even if it’s just friend asking if I want to get coffee this weekend or furthermore just my mom asking if I got to work safely, I get this tiny little warm feeling in my heart, which sounds absolutely lame but whatever.

I don’t know for sure why this happens but it does. Now, something that I really like about myself is that I am not attached to my electronic devices. Sure I am obsessive about other things in my life like always having the materials to make cupcakes in my pantry or never putting a book down in the middle of a chapter but I am infamous for missing phone calls because I left my phone is a completely different room of the house I am hanging out it. A lot of the people I hang out with are like that actually. But most of these people, my brother included, will come back and see that they have several text messages while if I’m lucky, I might get a butt dial from my grandfather followed up with a 5 minute long voicemail from inside his pocket. Not I know I sound like a hypocrite, and that’s because I 100% am. I criticize those who are too attached to their phones and am jealous of them at the same time. So what do I do instead that is totally embarrassing and really sad. I text blast. I am actually cringing at myself as I write this.

What I do is, I will text as many people as I can about trivial things at the same time. Parents, friends, coworkers, no one is safe. Sometimes it’s reasonable like “Haven’t heard from you in a while, how are you?” or “Just wanted to say hi! How are classes going?” more often though it’s a white lie “Hey, I don’t remember, are we getting dinner Wed or Thurs?” even though the date is circled on my calendar. Mostly, it’s just a meme or picture of an animal wearing human clothes that I found on Instagram with basically no purpose at all. I will send these text messages all in a row and then turn my phone upside down and walk away for a little. When I come back there will be a list of text messages waiting for me and my heart swells with happiness. I know, this is absolutely convoluted and incredibly stupid and I don’t know why I do this. Also to clarify, this isn’t a daily or weekly thing! This is a once every 2 or 3 months sort of thing (not that it makes it any better but still). The feeling I get is like when I go on a diet. I will do really well for weeks, eating veggies and exercising more but then it will be that one Saturday where instead of going to the gym, I give in and eat an entire pizza by myself. I won’t text blast for almost a month and then I can’t help myself. In the moment, it feels so awesome but later on I will ask myself “was that really necessary”. I feel like I need to go to group therapy about this. Not that it’s a serious enough problem but I would like to know that I’m not the only one out there like this. Do other people do this? Is it just me? Should I just sit in the corner all by my weird and creepy self?

Yes? Okay

Putting the Fuse in Confused,

C

Things I’m Confused About II: Goldfish

When I was younger, I had a goldfish that ran away. No, you did not miss read that sentence, my goldfish ran away. I went to bed and the fish was in its tank and the I woke up and it was gone. The only reason I knew it wasn’t my parents due to the fact my mom freaked out more than I did. She thought that I had found it dead and then hid it in my room somewhere so I wouldn’t get in trouble. In many ways she was more determined to find this little fish than I was. We looked everywhere for it but still, never found it’s remains. A year later we switched from carpet to hardwood floors and still, there was no trace of a little fish skeleton anywhere in our house and we literally had ripped up the floor boards. My family made fun of me for a while, saying silly little things like how my fish had run away and such but as a kid, it was me feel really crappy. But as I got older, I didn’t think too much about it. Maybe my dog at it or something, maybe my mom and dad really did flush it but wanted to teach me a responsibility lesson. Either way I am now an adult and my fish loosing days are in the past. Or so I thought. Until IT HAPPENED AGAIN.

You see, a while ago I had gotten some goldfish. Or, I should specify that I gotten some feeder fish, you know the ones that are 15 cents and are meant to feed other pets. I already have a betta fish and while I was at the pet store getting more food and filters, when I saw the huge tank of them swimming around not knowing that there main purpose in this store was to become food for other pets. Out of nowhere my heart went out to them and remembering my spare fish bowl in the back of the closet I asked the store employee to bag up three of them for me. Literally, there was no reason for me to get more fish excpet for in that moment I decided that I wanted to “save” some of them. So I got home, set up the little tank and watched my three little goldfish swim around confused. There was 1 actual orange one and 2 small grayish ones. The orange one I named “Bubbles 2” (there was an original Bubbles but that is a story for another time). The bigger gray one I names “SharkBait” (I had been watching a lot of Pixar lately) and then the smaller gray one I called “Twitchy”. (To make sense of why I called him that I will now let you know that he was the first one to die from what I can only assume was multiple little fish heartattacks. But I digress.)

So I gave them some food, watched them for a little bit longer and then I went about my day. The next morning I went to go check in on them and right away something looked funny. SharkBait was swimming in huge circles around the bowl marking his territory while Twitchy was having, what looked like a tiny seizure but he was still swimming around in much smaller circles. But there was no little tiny orange fish anywhere to be seen. I found myself staring at the bowl for a little while. I mean, I was a good sized bowl that was big enough for all three to have plenty of space to swim around but still small enough that I should be able to see all three of them at one time. I looked in every crack and crevasse, checking out all possible places for Bubbles 2 to be hiding but there was no little orange fish to be seen. I searched for a good half hour looking over everything twice but, still no little orange fish.

How could this be happening again?! No one should ever be able to say that they had 2 fish that ran away from them. I spent the rest of the day sulking, occasionally looking over the bowl again and then eventually deciding that goldfish and me do not mix at all. Maybe I should just cut my losses and set the other ones free before they could run away too. However, the next morning I get up, crawl myself over to the fish bowl and start to feed the two remaining goldfish when something bright catches my eye. It’s Bubbles 2, swimming in circles around the little fake plastic plant I put in for them. I could not believe it. I felt like a worried parent. “Where were you?!?!” I yelled into the tank to which Bubbles 2 just looked up at me and I swear she gave my the tiniest shrug before swimming away. I grabbed my head in frustration. I was positive that Bubble 2 was gone from my life for good but there she was like nothing had happened.

Now I actually have no idea what could have happened. She could just be a really good hider. Someone I live with could have been messing with me (except none of them knew I had any fish until a little while ago so that is a bit more unlikely). She could have been there the entire time and I just was looking but not seeing. OR she ran away from home, saw how hard it is to be by yourself for the first time, got scared and decided to come back. I don’t know about you, but my money is on the last one.

Putting the Fuse in Confused,

C

On Second Thought…

Recently I find myself saying the phrase, “On second thought,” to myself much more often. It’s dumb really. I feel that if I just took the extra 5 seconds to think before I say or do something I wouldn’t feel as regretful on a daily basis. And when I say daily, I do really mean daily.
For instance:
Just the other day I was having a very casual conversation with my boss. I work with chemicals so I was asking him about the bottles labeled “Explosive” and “Flammable”. “Do I need to be extra careful with theses? I assume there is special protocol.” I say. “Not necessarily.” He replies. “Yes, use extra caution but very few to none the compounds we have in this lab are likely to react without an excess of force. I would be super impressed with anyone who actually make something explode in the lab. That would be either a huge mistake or a freak accident.” “That’s good to know.” I say back and then continue with. “But I will say that if someone were to make something actually explode it would probably be me. I’m very clumsy and accident prone and I feel that things like that happen to me all the time.” I could feel his worried eyes as I walked away laughing.
On second thought: I could have just nodded and said “That’s a relief” before walking away.
The last time I was at the mall, I was stopped by a Victoria Secret shop
employee as I meandered into the bright store with hot pink walls. “Hi ma’am, I see you checking out our newest designs. Do you wear our bras?” she asked sweetly, just doing her job. I think for a second, grab my collar, pull it out and look down my shirt. “Sometimes, but not right now.” and it that wasn’t weird enough, I grabbed my right strap and pulled it out of the shirt saying “This one is from Target.” Her face did this strange thing where her lips continued to smile but her eyes said “Please get me out of here.”
On second thought: I could have just said, “Yes, please tell me more about your new products”
And then yesterday, I was watching the news with my mom when a segment about the fashion industries and models came on. I watched about 10 tiny lady walk across the screen in silence until a pregnant model came on screen sporting her baby bump in all it’s glory. what got me what that she was still thinner than I am. “How the hell is she so skinny? It’s impossible to be that skinny.” I remarked very loudly to which mom gave me a really funny look. “What?” I asked. Her eyes darted down to my hands, as at the time… I was eating handfuls of feta cheese straight from it’s container.
On Second thought: I should have just stayed silent.
On Second thought to that second thought: I should really try staying silent more often.

 

Putting the Fuse in Confused,

C

Things I Don’t Understand: Part 1

I am going to call this Part 1 because as you can probably guess, there is a lot in the world that confuses me and thus so many things that I do not understand. Today though, I am going to focus on the concept of being awkward because I believe it’s not as simple as feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable. I truly believe being awkward is based on perspective. As defined by society, I am a very awkward human being. Its something that I accept and actually like about myself. But then I got to thinking, if everyone was as awkward as me, would i still be awkward? For example, I have a small bladder and I basically have to pee round the clock. Where I drink water or not, I always have to go. It’s the worst for long car trips, sitting in meetings and especially at the movie theater. I always have to excuse myself to go to the restroom and normally I announce it. You may find that unnecessary but hear me out first. Whenever I just get up to leave or even when I say “Excuse me for one moment.” I get a chorus of “Where ya going?” and “You okay?” So I just skip the middle man and just say “Hey! I’m going to the restroom.” People find that awkward too but that’s a different issue.

Back to perspective, imagine if everyone had to pee as often as I do, like it was the norm. I remember once I went to a Peter Jackson movie which you all know was approximately 3 hours long. I know myself, so I didn’t get anything to drink or even eat just in case. An hour and a half in, I had to pee. How??? I don’t know but I do know that the guy next to me was drinking a gallon sized cup of coca-cola or some other diuretic beverage the entire time and barely moved throughout the whole move. The one time he did move was to get up to let me through when I had go. That was awkward. You could tell by the way everyone looked at me. However, if everyone had a bladder like mine, it would be normal to still do intermissions during movies and everyone would get up. Except for that one guy drinking his soda, continuing to sit there. Then we would all point to him on our way to the restroom and go “That’s awkward.”

See, it’s all about perspective. If that’s not enough, I’ll give you another example. I like to sing out loud whenever I do anything. No, I’m not an aspiring singer and no, I’m not even a good singer but do I sing songs from Les Mis when I wash the dishes and hum “Single Ladies” when I vacuum and I have also been known to sing the “Good Morning” song from Singing in the Rain when I get ready in the mornings. I think the only person who thinks this is even a little cute is my Mom. Everyone else thinks its awkward. But think about musicals. Everyone is singing and dancing the entire time. If you were watching a show and there is that one guy who is just standing there and not harmonizing with the melody while waving his hands back and forth with the rest of his peers you would think “Wow. That’s really awkward.”

So there you go. Everything is perspective. And I know that by my definition makes everything a paradox but hey, that’s why I’m so confused and awkward for that manner. What if it was normal to wear your socks on your hands every time you got on your computer? You’d look pretty awkward right now, wouldn’t you?

Putting the Fuse in Confused,

C