The Case Against Switzerland
The other side does seem to have awfully green grass this time of year.
Life is a set of sacrifices, for as one cannot have or experience anything even close to everything, one must give up everything else. And should one undergo a change of heart, one must weigh the benefits gained by the action against those lost by the lack of one's current action, and the losses incurred by any transitioning.
These are the calculations so often performed in a grossly incorrect manner. If your benefits are 'infinite happiness' and your action is 'leaving my spouse to run away to Switzerland with that nice man/woman I met last night', then you are the source of infinite idiocy and the cause of infinite frustration in everyone else watching the scenario. If we had life economists, people to hire to perform a cost-benefit analysis on our life's decisions, impartial third parties would likely make our decisions much better than we are capable of. At least, for us irrational types. The problem comes when said life economist would have to know every detail of how their clients think and behave in different situations, and the resulting lack of faith in humanity would cause a shortage of life economists in the field, which would drive up their salary, which would inspire more people to study to enter the field, which might solve the issue of overpopulation, but not efficiently, as we'd be eliminating a portion of society vital to the sustenance of our modern civilization.
But if I could hire someone to solve my problems for me, I would for the right price. The one that sits before me I'm ready to dismiss as the crazy running-for-Switzerland variety. Then the nagging voice on my shoulder says that I'm not giving it a chance.
Is it worth it to hop the fence to the other, apparently greener grass? Hopping back may prove tremendously difficult. Besides, the grass I'm standing on is very nice grass indeed, it's just when I think how there's a chance I was destined to stand on the grass over there, and how that grass may have been destined to have me stand upon it. Do I believe in destiny? I'd like to believe it, I suppose. I'd love for all the events in my life to just fall into place. And fence-hopping could either make it so or topple the whole thing over.
These were the thoughts I decided to interrupt in order to go to dinner because I wasn't getting any studying done for the chemistry test I had in one hour. I walked absent-mindedly to the cafeteria, trying to get back on the subject. My feet descended the staircase in three sets of one and thirteen sets of two. I pay an awful lot of attention to how I traverse stairs, and for that matter, any sort of ground which my feet pass over, but these were familiar routes, I know the necessary patterns without thinking; my mind was thus able to focus on the Diels-Alder reaction, trying to recall which gas bubbles off when synthesizing a carbene, and which one would sink to the bottom in a mixture of water and chloroform. Dinner would be brief, I had somewhere to be.
The staircases were empty on both sides, I was incredibly early. I thought: do I, as per usual, scale eight of one and eight of two? I like staircases of twenty-four because they have so many workable combinations of powers of two built into them. I opted for eight steps of three, no one was watching, and there was no one in front of me to awkwardly hang upon one pivoting foot behind as I waited to skip the two stairs their feet were resting on. I flashed my card to the attendant, who simply nodded. He must have been tired, for this fellow usually thanked me. Then again, I usually looked quite a bit more lively, an affectation I typically put on at mealtimes to test if anyone cares if I am there or not, absent today where images of chemistry equipment instead flashed through my consciousness.
Tyler: Hey, do you know any languages other than English, French, German, Russian, and Chinese?
Moose: I know some Spanish and Greek…
Tyler: Greek! How do you say chicken in Greek?
A question from out of nowhere from the food servers, shaking me from my deep thoughts on chemistry. If the distraction weren't quite so welcome I could probably report an incident that they were harassing the students. The people behind the counter are there to serve food and nothing else, and questions not relating to food would not be tolerated. Taking too long to sufficiently switch from science to language, my mind simply picked the first word it thought was close to the word for chicken. It's actually kotopoulo.
Moose: Portokalis.
Tyler: Would you like the free portokalis?
Moose: No thank you, I'm in something of a rush. Could I have the tortellini?
I paced through the rest of the line, grabbing an actual portokalis, and sat at the quietest, emptiest corner of the room, the table perpendicular to the exit from the food service line where no one sits because everyone entering with their food sees you but no one notices you. That is, very few people notice you; I must have been noticed at least by the girl who came to sit across from me.
Andrea: Hello, I'm going to sit with you. Sorry my social behaviour is so oppressive.
Moose: Okay.
I was silent for a minute while I observed her and attempted to discern a motive. She seemed harmless. She could have simply thought I looked interesting, which wouldn't have been a first. I welcome such reactions as to look boring is one of the most distasteful reactions I could hope to incite. Which is why I've considered dying my hair.
Moose: I think I might dye my hair green next week.
Teresa: No, you won't.
Moose: Blue?
Teresa: I won't speak to you with coloured hair.
Moose: You're no fun.
Teresa: And you'd be a freak show.
The other possibilities for my dinner companion included that she was looking for a date, in which case she was looking in the wrong place. I have heard of some people wearing rings to indicate relationship status, a pre-engagement ring of sorts, and much as this would simplify some situations, it would also remove a great deal of wonderful awkwardness which not only amuses, but serves as a first test to a relationship. Also possible was that my visitor knew as few people in the residences as I did, and simply saw someone in a similar place. I considered this to be the most likely, although it was not of any great importance, as a great many people I have met since starting my university life I have seen on one occasion and then never again.
Moose: So what inspired you to sit here?
Andrea: I don't know, you were just sitting over by yourself.
Moose: I don't sit alone because I'm antisocial, I just don't like people watching me eating.
Andrea: Okay, I won't look!
Moose: Don't worry about it, it's probably something I should get over as it is.
I rationalize it thus: when one is at one's cleanest, freshness of breath is paramount. Entire industries are based on maintaining the mouth clean and empty, toothpaste, dental floss, mouthwash, even dissolving flavoured strips of what appears to be plastic marketed as a breath freshness tool. So when one's mouth is full of assorted clumps of organic matter, it is the opposite. I strive for civility in eating, but I often fall short of my expectations. And far too many times have I been asked a question or had to answer the door talking around my food. Incidentally, it's something I seem to be rather good at, as I placed second in a contest of Chubby Bunny some couple of years ago, won by, if my memory is true to fact, Rich Kennedy. For those unfamiliar with the game, Chubby Bunny is played in a group where everyone places a marshmallow - the large kind, or you could be playing for a while - into their mouths and attempts to say 'chubby bunny' with exact enunciation. Rounds progress as a marshmallow is added each time until only one player remains capable of repeating the phrase. The game is banned in schools following an incident where a child choked to death on many marshmallows.
Andrea: Where do you live?
Moose: Gardner Hall, first floor, in this room across from the front entrance that no one notices because it used to be a storage closet.
Andrea: Wow, that must be awful. I used to live on the first floor of Gardner. So you must not see anyone around the residence. I remember when I was there, the trend throughout the year was that one's circle became progressively smaller with time. In the beginning of the year, people would take trips out to Solin to visit people, then that was reduced to the Upper residences, then just Gardner, then the floor, then one would be hard-pressed to find anyone further than a neighbour's room.
Moose: Yes, I don't believe that I know all so many people that I live with. So where do you live?
Andrea: An apartment in the ghetto.
Moose: But… they still give you meals here?
Andrea: I work here. Actually I have to get back to that about now.
Moose: It was nice meeting you.
Andrea: Likewise.
In another five minutes or so I was about finished as well and ready to go back to my room to scrounge for last-minute pieces of knowledge to thrust forcefully into my brain before I would have to leave.
Braden: Hello.
Moose: Ah, hello…
Braden: Oh, it's okay, I can see you're on your way out.
Moose: I do have a test to get to.
Braden: Good luck with that. I suppose I'm fortunate to not have German test, the person serving my food asked me what the German word for chicken was, and I drew a blank.
Moose: Yes, they asked me what the Greek word was and I couldn't think of that either. I just gave them the word for 'orange' and they didn't know the difference.
Braden: I'm certain I know the word. It's just when someone suddenly puts that out there unexpectedly, it's difficult to think of.
That's why my chemistry grade will no doubt disappoint many. More of it was unexpected than should have been. Then again, that is what comes of thinking about major lifestyle changes during a time for studying.