Catch Up (AKA, Choke On The Length Of Nothing Happening)
A gargantuan amount of plot has happened since my last substantial post, so this is an attempt to catch up in Reader's Digest form. To be honest, probably nothing has happened, and this all is just more of the same being repeated everywhere and anywhere, but it happened to me and around me, so it must be important, right? Most of the plot happened in my head anyway. If you were an innocent bystander, I'd suspect you'd think nothing happened at all.
- Janet's (the stepmother) mother died. She was bound to a wheelchair for the last decade, and I always thought how difficult it must of been for her to be so dependent on everyone as that chair made her. I cannot come close nor do I want to imagine what it's like to have to have help going to the bathroom. How dignity robbing (or maybe pride stealing) that must be to be so dependent on others as that? All the walls are ripped down and there you are asking someone else who says they care for you to pull up your own pants as they lift you from the toilet to be placed back in the chair. Now, that's naked. She had suffered through many strokes before her death, and towards the end she often stated that she just wished it would end.
Well, it had. So far, I've only been to two funerals. One thing I noticed though is that the people who cry the most seem to be the ones who were terribly mean to the deceased. I don't have enough to go on yet, but that's the working theory so far. Maybe we mourn not the dead or what they were actually to us but the unfulfilled grand ideal we hope our relationship could of been with them and now will never be. If it was good, we cherish it. If it wasn't, we pour buckets out. - This has probably been talked to death here, but I haven't made a post about it yet, and I just have one or two things to say about it. First, I'm confused as all hell. I don't get it at all. From what I can gather, we are suppose to be horrified and repulsed by a breast. Is that correct? One breast is evil, vile, and disgusting? Is that right?
I mean, what if, and it wouldn't be that hard to imagine, we hid our feet from each other. We were obsessive about wearing shoes and socks all the time. Maybe all of our feet smelled really bad all the time (and not just some of the time). I suppose I could see it happening then. Feet would be disgusting, and please, oh dear God, don't let children see feet. That would just be so incredibly horrible. Sounds silly? Apparently not.
On the other hand, we are suppose to go to a certain movie and watch some guy for an hour and half get brutally and vividly tortured. This, we are suppose to feel good about, so I'm told. This is suppose to create a sense of deep profound spiritual awakening in us. Torture that is. We are suppose to be thankful for this torture. We are suppose to feel love from watching this torture. We are suppose to know God by watching this torture.
Breasts or certain parts of us are ugly and disgusting, but torture is beautiful. I think that's what we are saying. Is it?
Tell me again that we are not the most perverse planet in the universe. Tell me that we are civilized. Tell me that we are an advanced culture. I double dog dare you. - Accidents don't happen. There is no such thing as an accident. At least, for the last couple of days, this is what I'm telling myself. I'm going to believe it. I'm going to make it my new religion. There is purpose and meaning in everything. Everything, and I do mean everything, happens deliberately. In fact, I'm going to get militant and dogmatic about it. I'm going to forsake every irrefutable logical explanation of this at all costs. Cotton balls are crammed up into my ears and blocking any other contrary idea, so don't even try.
Here's why. I only need to say one word, and you will completely switch your current religion to mine. All it is going to take is one word. Ready? Here is the word: Geetha. Okay, before you get excited about what might have happened, I did preclude this itemed list with most of my plot happened in my head. It's important to keep that in mind.
So Geetha has been going through a cyclic bout of job dissatisfaction. She recently spent 4 hours one afternoon detailing her fed up-ness to me and Kezia which is fine and nice to be able to get out now and then. The good thing about this is that she is more willing to take walks with me and Martin. Spring is happening here, and it is always so much nicer to be outside enjoying the sun than locked up in a cube during this time of year. In the past, she hasn't wanted to go, but I think the job stuff she has going on makes her more willing.
Anyway, she feels listened to from all this. Most of her problems are that she feels betrayed by some of her coworkers. One in particular, she considered her friend. Geetha runs a little hot and cold. It's who she is. She recently said that she only considers me and Martin her friend. Honestly, this made me feel pretty darn good inside, and if this was a competition, I won! Instead, I scrunched up my nose at her and told her we are all in this thing together and she'd better be nicer.
That's not it though, but it might of been important. Remember, I won. Remember, there is not accidents. Remember, Geetha feels close to me. Remember, and maybe you will get how significant and gushy the stuff that follows is. Otherwise, you may think that I'm off my rocker, and well, I'm not willing to hear that because of, well, you know -- the cotton balls.
So this last walk, there have been a few now, Geetha walked close to me. So close, that two times her hand touched mine. Wait. It doesn't sound like much, sure. But.. twice! Two times, we both walked close enough so that our naked flesh would touch each others. Two Times! Two times, we both wanted to say that there is something between us, something that feels close. Twice! Something is happening here that although nothing can be done about it, we both want to show some sort of hidden subconscious display of affection. And we want to do it TWICE!
Okay. You're right. I cannot get out of this pre high school mentality. It was significant to me though. - I recently gave my old PC to a friend. I had my new Apple now, and I had been using it exclusively. The PC was just sitting there unused. It was a great upgrade for him. I thought he could use it. Then I saw that the Sims 2 was coming out, so I got it into my head that maybe just an Apple was a bad idea.
Off to the store I go. A friend tagged along.
Long story short, the salesman asked me at least 10 times if I wanted to pay for the extended warranty. 9 times out of 10, I told him "No thank you."
Still he persisted. With each time, I was getting more and more aggravated. He told me he couldn't even begin to understand why anyone would not want it. He told me that he needed an explanation to help him understand. Still, I said, "No thank you."
With the tenth time, I let the bubbling gurgling flood of vomit spew out. I told him this. "Look pal. It's not my job to justify my reasons to you. This was the easiest sale you've made all day. I walked up, told you, 'one of these please' and still that is not enough for you. I'm not going to tell you why I don't want the warranty."
And then.. this came out my mouth. "Why don't you shut the fuck up?"
His expression went to deep unexplainable pain.
I added, "Why don't you just let it go?"
Still, he continued. "I just wanted to understand why you didn't want it."
All that ran through my head at that time was "LIAR!!!" He didn't want some deeper understanding of the human condition at all. He wanted to pressure me into something I didn't want. In fact, I think it pretty darn rotten that we now have to pay someone additional fucking money in order for them to say that what we are selling you will work and will continue to work. If I pay for the item itself, it should work. BIG FUCKING FAT PERIOD. All he wanted was something to argue with. Whatever reason I gave him, he would just refute, and then I'd have to come up with some other argument. And back and forth we would go if I was willing to play his game. "No thanks" was what I said, and what I meant.
Still even after telling him to shut up, he continued. "I just wanted to understand" except now he was whining. Granted, it was puke filled crap that I unleashed on him, but it seemed like that's what it took. "No thanks" didn't work. I tried it. Nine times. His face though and the whine were working. Guilt started. I felt bad about it. I was unnecessarily harsh.
You have to understand that I don't do this at all. I'm not really the kind of person who runs around telling people to fuck off. Normally what I'll do if someone upsets me is go lock myself in a room for years and mull over it thinking about it and then come out better from it. Which gives some miniscule level of insight but robs a lot of life from me.
After what I said, he still continued and my friend had told him, "Look. He's a millionaire. If he needs another computer, he'll just go buy one. This isn't really all that much money to him, and it isn't a big deal if it doesn't work" figuring that may offer some kind of false understanding he claimed to want. That didn't even work, and he continued on with his claim of how he didn't understand. To this, I simply said, "Goodbye. We're done." He walked away.
While I was paying for it, I told my friend that I was shaking. I must have drank too much caffiene. I told him that even though the salesman was upsetting to me, he was still a human being and deserved to be treated as such instead of some kind of reduced to this object of exchanging money and goods.
He said, "But he wasn't human. He acted as anything but."
This was a big moment for me. I don't know if it is good or bad, but it was big. Like a kind of freedom was opened up that I was afraid of. An understanding of me that I was afraid of. Like there is no reason to be afraid of going there anymore. Maybe that is bad. I don't know.
And then after, in the following weeks there was a huge amount of stuff that happened that seemed to relate to that. That very night, I watched Dharma & Greg, and she got upset when someone was being really rude to her. I mean really rude. Dharma in a fit of frustration unleashed it all and punched the person in the face. Same exact thing. She had the same exact guilt. This show was on that very night. The universe or God (same thing) is trying to tell me something, and I'm not sure what it is.
More stuff like that happened. Things I read related to it. It's weird how it seems to all come together like that. Of course, I may be fooling myself into thinking this. Maybe there is no intent behind anything but then that would remove all the mush and goosh I'd feel about having touched Geetha's hand, and we can't have that.