You know how people respond to things like the Sony/Amy Pascal/racist comments/North Korea thing by saying stuff like How could they be so stupid to write it down?
Whenever I text or write things like I wish I could just blow the whole place up or I just want to die, I wonder if it could one day be used against me even though I'm referring to the instance when I was fluffing Sophie's quilt and accidentally banged into the cheap Ikea paper lamp and so much dust went flying that I started choking on it, or the time when I ordered a hot fudge sundae from the fancy artisanal place and I didn't have time to eat it before a scheduled massage so I gave it back and then ran to the massage place where I was told that my masseuse had an emergency and we're so sorry but there is no one free for your appointment. Basically, I was out a sundae and a massage and it was one of the worst days I'd had in an age and both things were the remedy for the worst day, so I was f**ked. I cried in both instances, once as I finished making Sophie's bed and once in my car where I retreated without sundae or massage. What I really wanted to do was stomp my foot and cry in front of someone in both instances, but I actually texted a friend that I wish I could just blow the whole place up (my house) and I just want to die! (the massage was going to save the day).
Then again, I'm not the head of a giant movie studio or a dictator, but just a woman whose larger concerns are usurped at times by trivial or even bourgeois ones. I think it's doctoral students in English who call those signifiers or something. I was married once to a doctoral student in English literature and met a lot of people who lived and died by deconstruction. I never really understood it, nor the French people who made it up.
This morning I went to Ralph's and bought a literal basket full of things that are bad for you -- white flour, sugar, butter, chocolate chips, Crisco, chocolate wafer cookies, cinnamon balls, powdered sugar, brown sugar, a package of proscuitto bits and some pasta. I also bought a single slice of cheesecake with canned cherries on top and piped whipped cream. I don't know why I bought the last one because all the former stuff was for Christmas baking and one dinner, but I ate the slice of cheesecake in my car with a plastic fork. A few minutes later, I confessed to a friend via text that I'd done so (and here I am doing the same for you) and asked her whether it was too late to develop an eating disorder. She said yes, and while I don't mean to poke fun at what I know is a serious mental health issue, I honestly wanted to make myself throw up, and I still don't know what came over me as I'm not a binge eater.
Tis the season to be jolly.
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Why do any of us write it down? Because sometimes we need a hand to hold and it's a way to reach out.
ReplyDeleteSometimes.
I think writing it down will save us in the end.
ReplyDeletethe way I see it is it's winter now it's my job to grow a thicker coat.
ReplyDeletexor
Re: the cheesecake slice that you ate in your car, my sister and I each bought three cheese rolls at a Chinese bakery yesterday (they were 3/$2.69, how could we resist?) and we each promptly ate two of them. Two EACH. Sometimes nothing else works. Hallelujah for cheesecake slices and Chinese cheese buns with vanilla sugar sprinkled on top.
ReplyDeleteIt will be the straw that breaks that camels back in my case. Something like not having an extra electrical socket to plug in my charger for my iPod because every socket in the house is in use for Christmas shit. Or some my husband taking the last of the Hawkin's Cheezies (a Canadian favourite; did you have them when you were here?) to music triva. I figure if Cheesecake gets you through, more power to ya.
ReplyDeleteOh, back in September I sent an e-mail to a friend about the crappy ESL school I was about to start working part time at. Alas, seems I accidentally sent that e-mail to the boss of that school. And so the job offer was rescinded. Yup.
ReplyDelete- Karen
You NEEDED that cheesecake, especially having been deprived of your earlier sundae! (I realize that was probably quite some time ago, but regardless...)
ReplyDeleteSometimes I am embarrassed by how quickly rage can boil up in me, set off by minor, minor things. I try not to write while enraged, though. :)
Writing these thoughts down, like saying them out loud, is cathartic and essential. Better that than stuffing stuffing stuffing to the point of explosion, where a whole lot more than words erupts.
ReplyDeleteMy husband always laughs at me when I add "j/k big brother" at the end of such texts...but for real...just kidding big brother...just kidding.
ReplyDeleteAnd if it means anything to you, that cheesecake would wreck my stomach in the most powerful way, but when I read your description of it, it is all I want in mah belly!
Hope you have fun baking all your goodies!
It's the time of year. You needed the energy - quickly - in order to do the baking. BTW, my own baking FAIL was precisely because I could not face buying white flour and white sugar and butter - I used whole wheat pastry flour, which clearly said on the package: "for cookies, bread, etc" and which I now know DID NOT mean Christmas sugar cookies. So I don't think you have an eating disorder - I think it's holiday time and we are among craziness. We are bound to catch a bit of it at some point. So much better to eat cheesecake than cause an international incident. XO
ReplyDeleteSome people write it down. Others road rage. Still more stuff it and swallow it and do other unspeakable things. Whatever.
ReplyDeleteThat said, I felt the tears well up as I read about the sundae and the massage. Why is it that those disappointments slay us so fiercely? When I was on retreat last October, I was on a phenomenal hike with a new group of fabulous friends and had to turn back to make my massage appointment at the spa (the first one I'd scheduled in over a year). When I got back to the spa, I discovered that they had double-booked the masseuse and the other lady showed up a split second before me. I missed the rest of the glorious hike (everyone raved about it at dinner), and the masseuse was fully booked for the rest of my stay. Even though I got a full refund, I still ugly-cried at the receptionist desk in front of a group of people who were checking in. Yup. Not my finest moment.