Bookends
September 24th, 2006
You know how there are those things that you remember that cannot possibly be recaptured if tried again, due to a specific set of ephemeral, long-past circumstances? Example: I am no longer a poor college student who hits the bong every weekend, which drives the need to snag some cheap lo mein at the all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet. And yet, we found ourselves waxing nostalgic about those days, and lo, we found ourselves at the local King Buffet without the benefit of a pre-gorge blunt of course, and no. No it wasn’t a good idea. I have no viable explanation for why we thought it might be a good idea.
OH! And I ate fresh-ish spinach at said buffet, because I actually FORGOT, and I’m a little afraid to think of where it came from, because where the hell can you get spinach? I also ate some pickled ginger that tasted precisely like mildewed towels (and I mean exactly, in this horrible, visceral sort of way), and thus spent most of Friday night on Stomach Watch, waiting for the E.coli to course through my system like the danse macabre. It never did, but I didn’t sleep in anticipation of wild cramping, and it didn’t help that the light cover for our shower stall decided to mysteriously unhinge itself and come crashing down at 4 a.m. Whether it was sleep-deprived logic or some sort of mystical presence revealing itself to us, we found ourselves considering that the only possible explanation for this was that there was a ghost in the bathroom, because there were screws unhinged in this process. Screws. Screws! Who unscrewed them, and why?
In my sleep-deprived madness, I started thinking, “What if someone I love just died, and they’re trying to COMMUNICATE with me through the light fixture, and I am IGNORING THE SIGNS?” So I laid awake all night panicked about who it could be, whispering softly to myself, “Mom, is that you?” and “Daaaaaad?” and working myself up into this stupid, silent frenzy while random Simon & Garfunkel songs ran on repeat through my brain, which meant that I was not quite awake, since I always hear Paul Simon when I am hovering between sleep and dreams. And thank God, because who thinks like that when fully rested? For the record, after sleeping, I now recognize that was insane.
I haven’t slept well in about two weeks, and it’s become this miserable vicious cycle where I lay awake consumed with unfocused anxiety, convinced there is some sort of tragedy about to befall me that my subconscious is trying to bring to my attention. This of course makes it impossible to sleep, when really, it’s simply the fact that I haven’t slept that is bringing about the crippling anxiety. And the cycle continues…
One of the biggest things that wakes me up in the middle of the night is this irrational fear that I have strategically placed obscenities into documents that I have set up to go live, either in something I’ve written for publication, or a news release set for the wire, back when I did that sort of thing. The fear only really takes hold after the document is no longer fixable, i.e., it’s on the wire/press/shelves already, and the first time I pick up the finished product, I read it with one eye closed from a shroud of terror, fully expecting a giant “FUCK YOU” to appear spelled out within the document in big, bold letters. *
The weekend was delightful, and included a trip to the local art museam, where we saw a traveling Seuss exhibit. I’ve never been a huge fan of Seuss books, as I just don’t have the patience for obscure, seemingly non-sensical rhymes, and frankly, I’ve always thought even the most benign of creatures, such as Horton (of Hears a Who fame), looked…unfortunately deranged and rather malicious, like they would lure you into some dark cave with ham and eggs, then saw the flesh off of your arm and serve it up on a green platter, rhyming all the way home ( “I eat your arm, o farm! o farm! I wish to do you harm!” Farm? Shut up. It’s the best I can do.)
I will say, however, that the exhibit changed my mind, and Geisel/Seuss was one hell of a talented dude, and his forgotten art – well beyond the books and cartoons that are so familiar to all of us, even those who tried to avoid it – are really astonishing. And if the exhibit comes to your town, take the time to go, as it’s totally worth it. He did some pretty amazing stuff.
The rest of the weekend included trips to Costco for toilet paper, gazing longingly upon the Roombas at Sharper Image, talking ourselves out of the Roomba because we’re tiling the floors, then regretting not buying the Roomba (and the Scooba!) after reading this.
All in all a thrilling weekend.
In gratuitous cuteness, after said Chinese buffet, Dog and I got caught in a rainstorm, which required me to towel her off adorably:
I don’t think there are many who could resist this.
Ooh ooh: late aside, There is nothing more awesome than this. (I’m not sure if she still has it password-protected, but if so, I must simply explain that it is a photo and post from another blogger, whom I like very much, who made her pug pose with her in front of a condom on the streets of Paris, in honor of this moment. And did I mention that she’s a very cool and totally talented French lingerie designer who makes – wait for it – CASHMERE UNDERWEAR, among other things? Is the Internet not the greatest thing in the world? Yes. Yes it is.)
*My friend Erica shares this fear, and it’s bonded me to her ever since.
**Simon & Garfunkel
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
17 Comments Add your own
1. Kristin | September 24th, 2006 at 7:29 pm
You are so completely and totally charmingly neurotic. I love it, and not just because you illustrate perfectly that I am not the only wingnut inside the computer.
2. Suebob | September 24th, 2006 at 8:07 pm
Yes, you are completely mad. But when I wrote a lot for a newspaper I had some of the same types of fears. I would awaken, gasping, knowing I had made a major factual error that would be completely obvious to everyone who read the story (I would conveniently forget that our Pain in the Ass copy editors would have seen it and called me).
Now for insomnia, I alphabetize dog breeds. I dunno why, but it works for me. I know all the AKC breeds up to M…affenpinscher, afghan hound, airedale terrier, akita….and so on. I am usually asleep by B. The odd thing is that is I awaken again, I can always remember the breed I fell asleep on and pick right back up.
3. Yez | September 24th, 2006 at 9:51 pm
Tragically, Parisian Condom site is still password-protected, but my imagination still paints a vivid picture X-D
I find it interesting that you know the precise taste of mildewed towels, but I’m sure you’re saving that anecdote for another day ]:> I’d probably be freaked out for at least a week if any of my light fixtures unscrewed themselves and committed luminosicide (is so a word; I just made it up), even in broad daylight, never mind 4 AM!
Thanks for the Seuss review. My favorite books of his are “If I Ran the Zoo” and “Fox in Socks”, but I’d really love to see his other work.
4. TwoBusy | September 25th, 2006 at 6:17 am
Great googly moogly — and here I was, thinking I was the only person living in terror of the day when some ugly part of my subsconscious finally pushes through and deposits a happy “Fuck off!” into the middle of an otherwise pedestrian business document.
Do we have a support group? Are there t-shirts?
5. Lawyerish | September 25th, 2006 at 6:27 am
I have a very similar fear re: documents or court submissions that are past the point of no return. Not that I’ve written an obscenity in them (although that is hilarious and yet still understandable to someone like me who is….well, a lot like you), but that I’ve made some error or misrepresentation in the argument or facts that, when discovered, will begin a cascade of events that includes my being put before the bar ethics committee, which in my mind looks just like that Little House episode when she steals the music box and dreams that she’s being sentenced to jail.
So yeah. You’re not alone.
6. Christine | September 25th, 2006 at 7:14 am
Oh, the pic is still password protected. which is SAD.
But, if it makes you feel any better at all, I had myself a nice anxiety attack Friday night when Anthony was out. I fell asleep-ish, where I apparently decided some terrible thing had happened to him. And then when he didn’t answer his phone for a half hour afterwards, the full on sobs came. Poor Anth thought someone had died when he finally called me back.
I would have taken Simon and Garfunkel any day over that.
7. Jamie | September 25th, 2006 at 8:10 am
Ohhhh, S&G. The CD of their 1981 concert in Central Park is one of my all-time favorites. My favorite song is “A Heart in New York.”
8. Trina | September 25th, 2006 at 9:07 am
Cashmere p-words? Insane!
9. Jen | September 25th, 2006 at 10:01 am
Every time I see that web address I think it says DAIRY land. Then I look again. Oh. Not cows, journals.
10. GG | September 25th, 2006 at 1:04 pm
Cashmere undies? Oh my!
Man, I am thanking my lucky stars that I cannot relate, even a teeny bit, to your anxiety problems. I’m anti-anxious. This makes for an interesting combo with Wilman, who I’m convinced would benefit from some anti-anxiety meds and who lies awake at night worrying about stuff.
And then you have me. “I could have accidentally put the word “FUCK” in the middle of my presentation? Ha. I hope I don’t get fired over that.”
11. jes | September 25th, 2006 at 2:31 pm
I could not access Culotte, or the pug or the condom or the cashmere underwear. Though, I don’t think a pic of the cashmere underwear was included.
12. Leah | September 25th, 2006 at 3:55 pm
Cuuuuuuuute.
13. Kristin | September 25th, 2006 at 4:44 pm
What happened to the post about you falling and mesh underwear?
14. suze | September 25th, 2006 at 7:10 pm
I did actually let an obsecentity go live, back when i was editor of my jskool’s paper. It was a typo, that unfortunately renamed the local daily newspaper the clitizen instead of the citizen.
it was my finest hour
15. Erica | September 26th, 2006 at 8:23 am
Ah, yes, the fear of the giant “Fuck You!” or “Douchebag!” appearing in business documents. I swear this is how we became close friends.
As you know I am also afraid that I will cut and paste text from an IM into an “All Employee” email. I will be innocently IM’ing with a friend about ovulation or vaginas or something and the next thing I know it will be broadcast to the world!
I have to give the background here though that this fear is somewhat rational and well-founded. I have seen many a public relations plan completely sabotaged because spellcheck fails at catching the instance of “PUBIC” relations – usually on the front page of the document.
16. dissed | September 26th, 2006 at 7:07 pm
My fear is sending e-mail to the wrong person. My best friend wrote a rant about her ex-spouse, for me, and accidentally sent it to him. He took it well. Having told that, I’ll probably incorporate it into tonight’s new and exciting Anxiety Dream.
17. Afghan Hound Enthusiast | October 13th, 2009 at 8:19 pm
Nothing wrong with being a bit off the mainstream…don’t worry about it! I like obsessing about dog breeds as well!
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