Down Under But The Other One
I have been spending actual real time worrying about what my neighbors think of me. So if there was ever a question of my damaged-ness we can put that to bed.
No, so, ok. So I'm leaving for Antarctica in three weeks. You're correct, it is extremely cool of me to do something like go to Antarctica. I sort of wonder if part of me planned the trip just to get attention. If so it was a really genius plan because people are way into it. A friend of mine told me that he's been randomly telling other people unrelated to me about how I'm going to Antarctica. Of course he isn't crediting me in his appropriation of my coolness which is extra not cool but I sort of love the idea that the legend of my financially-irresponsible solo bucket list trip is bouncing around the mean streets of LA.
Everyone has so many questions about it, ranging in topic from frostbite to polar bears (incidentally not found there) and ranging in quality from genuine questions to literally insanity. I say something about it on one of my dating profiles (because of course) and the responses I've gotten have really run the gamut. One guy told me not to forget my shoes, and added a winky face. Without the winky face it would have passed as a joke- a weird, bad joke but a joke nonetheless. But then, with that winking face, suddenly I found myself wondering… is “forgetting your shoes” a sex thing I’ve never heard of ever before? The mental whiplash felt physically painful. “Hey baby- why don’t you come over and forget your shoes tonight.” I mean I don’t not get it.
Seriously, though, let's be serious. I'm going to Antarctica because I want to see it. I don't want to feel limited, or stuck. I don't just want to hear about everything, I have to do it. I wanna see a place we haven't fully fucked up yet while it's still there. I want to experience the quiet. It's never quiet here. I love New York, I do, but it is NEVER quiet here. One of my earliest memories of NYC was when I was about 12 visiting a friend who lived in Manhattan and I stayed overnight with her somewhere in the Upper West Side and a car alarm went off and stayed alarming for like 4 hours and I just stared at the ceiling listening. I don't even remember being that upset, everything about the city felt so grimy and miserable but more importantly it felt real. Like I could grab it in my hands and make into something that was all mine. I could never hold the suburbs in my hands. The suburbs are a slippery asshole.
The car alarm was classic New York- welcome to our great city, fuck you.
But I digress, as per my M.O.
One of the things about going to Antarctica is that you need all sorts of gear. Luckily I signed up for this trip about a year in advance so I had some time to start gathering the merino wool socks, and the waterproof pants. But I'mma be real with you- somehow this bitch crept up on me. So now I'm panic buying everything that haven't been able to make a decision about, all of the options, knowing that I'm going to have to spend a full day before I go returning everything I don't actually need. It's a strategy, maybe not a good one, but I don't have a lot of time to work with so I'm going with my gut.
The problem has become, though, that I get... a lot of packages. Like a lot. So I'm tempted to text the neighbor group chat (it's a small building) and caveat my deluge of presents properly so they don't think I'm just going through some sort of manic phase. There are two problems with texting them though. One is that I really should be the kind of adult person who doesn't care what her neighbors think about her At. All. The second is that I already did this exact thing about my Christmas shopping like a month ago.
I sort of abuse the neighbors chat, but not really and it seems like they find me charming, she said cluelessly. There were these two envelopes that were COVERED in writing with multiple addresses on them, half ripped open sitting on our stairs for AGES. They looked insane and so after a month I decided that it had been enough time for me to take them and open them and find out what was inside of them. So I texted the neighbs to ask if they thought it would be ok at this point if I took them because I couldn't handle my curiosity anymore. FWIW I had resounding support. Then I made an awesome joke about the risk if I disturb them that we'll find ourselves in a Jumanji situation and then the conversation petered out for some reason.
I know I have a need-to-be-funny thing. I'm sure it's from somewhere deeply unhealthy but I like making people laugh. As an adult I've been told that I'm a "positive person" multiple times (which is what makes me laugh) but the reality is just that I think nothing really matters much so we might as well try to make things nice and pleasant as we run out the clock.
Occassionally I'll drop a funny comment into one of the HVSCs (High View Slack Channels) at work but it's not often. You gotta nail the shot and walk away. I know how obnoxious people who find themselves funny usually are, and I know I’m not immune to that so I try to be strategic about where and when I throw something out there. There's one other guy at work who I've never actually met face-to-face before in the almost two years I've worked at my company who is operating on my wavelength. Funny, but selective about when he pipes up. Sometimes the stars align and we both comment on the same thing thus compounding our individual contributions to the vibe. Chefs kiss.
As always there's more to say, but I'm trying to learn how to do aim to do things GOOD ENOUGH and not THE BEST EVER so we'll leave it here.
Rose
PS what was in the envelopes:
No written note in either
Envelope 1:
A tiny plastic dime bag with zero drugs in it but a single carefully folded $1 bill
End of list
Envelope 2:
15 lottery ticket print outs and the receipts for 4 of them
A single pill in a blister pack labeled Panax. According to the literature printed on the back, the pill had weed AND ginseng, and you’re explicitly instructed to take it 3-4 hours before sexual activity.