Things I Am Absolutely Terrible At

1. Land Sports - Running. Who invented that shit? It's tiring. I also have the misfortune of being terribly ungraceful. Swim. Underwater, no one can see you trip. (Creepily like how in space no one can hear you scream... but that's just disturbing.) 

Fried Calamari is totally healthy...

  2. Eating healthy - I will always always go for the bad stuff. If it's there, I'll eat it. If it's not there, I'll justify going out to get it. A whole bag of cookies. Litres of ice cream. Icing. Although sugar is my weakness, I'll sadly also go for the meat and carbs. Steak and potatoes. Bacon. Literally bread and butter. I'm no stick, but how I'm not a million pounds I have no clue.

3. Crying at Appropriate Times - My tear ducts are not normal. I don't really cry when I'm sad. Then later they like to overcompensate at the strangest times. They'll water for no reason during a completely normal conversation. It makes the other person confused. If I get really really mad at someone and I can't use my words to make them cry for being mean to me, then I'll cry (very rare - my words are normally like a thousand tiny needles getting shoved into your heart... I admit I'm way too good at finding insecurities and using them to my advantage when provoked... be very afraid).

4. Empathy - You can get sympathy (I feel bad for your misfortune), but not empathy (I feel your misfortune). If I don't understand what you're going through, like why you're crying uncontrollably at something that makes me relieved... then I'm going to be absolutely no help at calming you down. You'll get a few pats on the head then I'll awkwardly back out of the room.  Talk to me when you stop feeling shitty and start feeling angry that things didn't go your way. Someone stole your toy? Cry, then come to me when you're pissed and want to steal it back.

5. Not Eating Chocolate - Seriously. If it's just sitting there, I will eat it. Even if it's not mine... beware. If there's no sign, it's free game.

6. Noticing I'm Getting Hit On - It's kind of sad. At bars and such I'll wander and chat to strangers, then smile and be merrily on my way... potentially not noticing that some guy was trying to get into my pants. I can't really say this is a flaw. My bubble of oblivion is a happy one. Although I do have a habit of leading people on without thinking of it, so that makes me feel like a huge bench (sue me, I'm working on my swearing) when I realize it later. I generally just think I'm too strange for guys to put up with long term. Initially they look at me like I'm some fascinating female specimen with my nerdy love of cars and penchant for telling funny stories... or I'm someone who should be looked at through a tiny window for the rest of my life. Walking conundrum, I am. 

This is an irrelevant sleeping cat.

7. Improvisational Comedy - Yeah, I can tell a few entertaining stories. But I totally suck at improvising. All my stories have to be based on truths. I can't just make hilarious things pop out of my brain, much as I'd wish. I've got a pretty witty tongue, but that's only in conversation. Put me on stage and give me something random to act out and I will taste tomatoes.

8. Ordinary Differential Equations - These buggers are everywhere in my life. I've taken many classes where the nasty things keep popping up to haunt me. I hate them. I have to look up the solving methods every time. Independently, I can't solve them to save a fish. So I generally don't. I really don't like fish. When these things become extraordinary, I'm screwed. Then they're like... sharks. Swim away (gracefully, because you can't trip).

9. To Do Lists - That was what I was initially going to write. Stuff I need to do this summer. Instead it became a list of things I don't do. Damn.

And It's Peaceful in the Deep...

Some days I wonder if I'm the only one that has this miraculous ability to keep myself entertained in an empty room. And by empty I mean empty. No electronics. No other people. Imagine an empty white room. Could you do it?

It may sound pathetic, but I've noticed I can sit for hours on end doing absolutely nothing. Those who know me can attest to the fact that I can be in a room alone, making no noise and rarely surfacing, for hours. Maybe even days. And sometimes they ask me what I've been doing. And sometimes I have no way to answer them. I've been doing nothing. Just... thinking. Imagining. Zoning out. I blink and the clock numbers pile up.

Call it years of experience of being locked in a room without toys for punishment. My parents would sentence me to the washroom, where a kid quickly runs out of things to amuse themselves. No cell phone with amusing games. Not a word to be read nor a sound to be heard. So I would think. You start out with menial things like counting tiles and stacking toiletries. I can even tell you that the coloured tiles in my grandparents house are actually the definition of random. Strangely clustered yet spread out, odd little things. 

Eventually I would start to wonder. Why did my grandfather lay them like that? I would picture him sitting there, tossing them down haphazardly, not worrying that my grandmother might see it later and smack him over the head for making such a mess. But to me the random mess was fascinating. I would make it a story and it would keep me occupied until my parents remembered that they'd left me in there for a couple hours and they should probably let me out and feed me now.

I'm a big kid now. I know not to talk back. Not to run around the house chaotically and drive old people nuts. Although my smart tongue still warrants a smack or two, and I still sneak cookies out of the kitchen, I've basically grown out of my punishment. But for some reason I can still pass the time with my imagination. My stories become lifetimes. I live out a whole life based on one fictional situation. What if this event happened? If I got this job? Imagine I met this random person, or I ended up marrying this person. Imagine life as I know it changed. Imagine this person left. Imagine this person died.... As you can tell, not all my thoughts have happy endings. But I can re-write life. Try again the next day, or even in the next hour. Then too many hours pass and I need to snap out of it. Maybe take some of the paths I imagined. Perhaps fix some choices I already made.

You never know, really. People say that all the time for reassurance. But it's not that reassuring, is it? All I know is that I am content to pass the time, completely fascinated with my own thoughts. Then my mom comes and gives me a sandwich and tells me if I keep hermiting like this she'll never get the grandchildren she so desperately wants. I always tell her "I'll get right on that. Literally." She never appreciates the joke. Then I get sentenced to the bathroom to think about my smart-assed comment. Little does she know that's probably not what I'm thinking about. For the next few hours... I am a wizard ninja. Duh.

The Joys of Anonymity

Everyone says there's something freeing about anonymity. The idea that you can be whomever you wish. Answer a question any way you'd like. Invent a whole new story. A whole new life. As fun as it is to let your imagination fly and you can become instantly funnier and more interesting to a stranger, the thrill can wear off. 

I became curious. What if the mask you put forward is your true self? It is the hardest mask to wear. We all like to think we walk around as our honest selves, but there's always those moments where you deny yourself. You hide the unique pieces. The embarrassing pieces and the terrible pieces that make you who you are. You pretend to not like something because those around you say it's not proper. You hold back the laugh you want to let out when you see someone trip. You never share the fact that you like to bake yourself a cake and eat it alone when you're sad. Or that you dance in front of a mirror to cheer yourself up.

Or that you have strange animals...

Little quirks like these get shoved aside so we can seem normal. Be deemed fit for average society. But it's just that. Average. Recently I ventured off into society alone. Technically I got stood up... but that's not the point. I found myself surrounded by strangers in a club. Since I had paid to get in, I figured I may as well stick around and enjoy a few cheap drinks before I went home. There was something thrilling about being in a room full of the unknown. It was a clean slate. I decided to let myself loose and see how things went. Why lie? I didn't care if I was judged by these people.

I drifted around and said what I wanted to say, and did what I wanted to do. And ultimately the results were fascinating. Sure, some people thought a lone female wandering around a nightclub was simultaneously suspicious and pathetic. But at least I was honest. If some guy offered to buy me a drink, I'd tell him straight up how far that would get him. A few got pissed and walked off. A few laughed and thought I was interesting enough to deserve one anyway. And if they were good guys, I'd buy them one in return. It was a night of shamelessly flaunting my real personality. I didn't downplay how much I love cars when arguing with some car-loving guy about how double shifting is useless on a production car. I corrected people when they said stupid or rude things, instead of politely disagreeing.

I went home with a few free drinks in my stomach and now have a few more people that I can officially call acquaintances. Because I'm not sure if they were sober enough to even remember my name. Regardless, I look forward to repeating this excursion again. But not anytime soon. I'm in the middle of my exam period and should probably have studied instead of going out. Also probably should've studied instead of writing this... Stupid TPA.