I come before you today to bring you a message. A message not carried by a winged creature into your living rooms through an open window scaring your children and insighting you to beat the poor bird to death with a broom; but a message of understanding. Coming to grips with the words you are reading and the path they took to get there. We are all filled with insecurities about ourselves and about the world and I believe it is time for us to acknowledge these insecurities and cry out to the world, "I am afraid of popping balloons!" So I want to open up the discussion to the floor and start off with a few of my own insecurities.
My dad never showed me how to shave. I learned from watching Gilette commercials. Not being a complete idiot helped too. It was common sense that if I drag this razor along my face, my sad excuse for facial hair will help the ever-growing clog in the sink. But because I never had anyone to teach me the correct way to shave, I am always self-conscious about it when other people are around. I fear others are silently judging every pass I take with my razor, calling me names and scoffing as they watch my unorthodox methods of hair hygene.
Another internal demon I fight with on an almost daily basis is my inability to correctly get on pace with an escalator. Sometimes while I'm in the mall I will walk up to the giant moving staircase and hesitate half a second too long and then almost plunge to my death and tumbling over and over catching others not paying attention in a snowball of bodies until the headlines the next day read; "Technology Kills Again; 17 Dead in Escalator Accident." I don't know why I can't simply step up to an escalator without worry like everyone else in the world. There are double dutch jumpers in the world that think less about their approach than I do. I will stutter-step my way onto an escalator to ensure I step fully onto a step instead of a crack, and it has nothing to do with the condition of my mother's back.
But internal battles are not the only thing that make my day harder. Ketchup is yummy. Most of us put it on anything from hamburgers to french fries and sometimes eggs. It is second only to Ranch Dressing in the condiment world; recently losing out to the country-style goodness. And even though we put ketchup on so many things we devour in the course of our day, and the ungodly amount of ketcup we will douse on any given french fry; it is absolutely disgusting to eat alone. If ketchup were a superhero, it could never be the star of its own comic book.
These are the types of things that torment my life. I assure you that they are all true so if you are ever walking with me in a mall watch the beads of sweat build up on my brow as we approach the mechanical mountain. Everyone has stupid things that bug them that the greater public would not, so if you can think of one leave it in the comment section. Consider this group therapy and I'm the psychologist and we are all f**king crazy.
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2 comments:
i hate going to zoos because seeing giraffes in cages makes me cry, and then i feel like an idiot.
i arrange things in my closet by level of softness, but everyone thinks it's unorganized.
i still check under my bed to make sure no one's there, especially now that i live alone.
and speaking of escalators, i have to ride with my feet on seperate steps because i'm afraid i'm going to fall through.
take a wild guess as to who this is :)
That's how I learned to shave too, and that's exactly how I feel about shaving around people! And because of that, if anyone else is in the bathroom I am almost guaranteed to cut my face, which does not help matters at all.
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