Wednesday, April 24, 2013

So, I kinda got shanked on the way home...

I seem to have this staggering ability, in my mind, to go from a perfectly normal, free association of harmless, random thoughts to dark, disturbing images and unimaginable grief. You see, I was riding my bike home yesterday, and at one point, some kinda weird-looking guy who wasn't really paying attention to where he was going walked out onto the path I was on. He didn't even really see me.

But then I thought that might be the type of guy to randomly attack me in broad daylight on my bike.  So then this whole scenario starts playing out in my mind. This guy comes out of nowhere and starts stabbing me and of course I fall onto the ground and he keeps attacking me and I'm screaming but by the time someone hears my cries for help it's too late because my wounds are fatal and I'm bleeding out on the bike path.

Then, I imagined horrified bystanders taking pictures and posting them on Twitter: "Random violent attack in public park! Holy shit! Someone call 911!". Then, I imagined my boyfriend and stepdaughter at home, wondering when I'll get back from work, thinking: "Hm, it's getting kinda late. Where is she?" Then my stepdaughter sees something on Twitter. "It couldn't be" she thinks to herself. More time passes and still I don't arrive home. Sirens are heard in the distance.

Eventually, two police officers show up at my house. They found my ID in my blood soaked backpack. Inexplicable grief and shock grab hold as the reality of this random attack sinks in. Brave citizens chase my attacker into a neighboring subdivision and apprehend him. The late-night newscast reveals that I am the victim, next-of-kin having been notified of my untimely demise. There is a candlelight vigil that night on the very spot where I was attacked. People are now determined to "take back the park".

The following day, the story is everywhere. A city is in shock. "DEADLY ATTACK" is strewn across the front page of the newspaper. My work colleagues are huddled in small groups, crying and consoling each other. A few days later, hundreds of people attend my funeral, so touched were they by this horrible crime.

At this point, I realize I've made myself cry with all these mind machinations and am thankful the house is empty when I get home because, umm, crazy much? Otherwise, it might have gone something like this: "Why are you crying, honey?" "Oh, I was just imagining this whole scenario where I get murdered in broad daylight on the way home."

This is why I don't watch the news.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Melancholic cavities and Maple lattés

I had to get a cavity filled last week. I wonder if it's because of all the Cadbury Cream Eggs I ate. I wasn't expecting them to freeze me but they did. You see, last time I had a filling replaced, it was in a tooth that was dead following a root canal so it wasn't necessary since I wouldn't feel anything anyway.

So there I was, thinking this would be all quick and simple. Then I find out they're gonna freeze me and I'm all like: "What? Why?" I ain't down with that shit. Then, once I was all good and numb and drooling some drill thingy came out and I was like: "Oh, ok, I get it now."

Afterwards, I wished I had had a heartier lunch. "You'll be able to eat in about 3 hours", the dentist says, as I'm daydreaming of cheese curds. Not gonna lie, when your face is partially frozen, it feels f*cking weird, like you've been punched in the mouth and your lips are twice the size they normally are, except they're not. It's all a drug-induced illusion. Your face actually looks perfectly normal until you try to eat, drink or talk.

I'm pretty much off wheat and try to avoid sugar. However, a few days ago, while running errands, the boyfriend and I stopped into a local coffee shop. He gets a sandwich and tells me: "Take a bite. It's so good. You have to try it." "But, there's wheat, in the bread", I say. "It's too good, you have to try it." So I did. It was delicious. When you don't eat wheat, the experience of consuming moist, fluffy, gluten-filled bread is akin to a shot of heroin.

I then saw a sign advertising their "Maple latté" and thought that might be tasty. So we get one and the boyfriend surprises me with a wheat and sugar-laden chocolate chunk cookie. Who am I to say no to a gift? The cookie/maple latté combo was, quite frankly, indescribable. I felt like a pregnant Catholic school girl - it's so wrong, but at the time, it felt so right. I guess it was describable.

I tried to make wheat-free chocolate chip cookies once. I almost burned our house down and they tasted like cardboard.

The other night, we were perusing our On Demand service looking for a movie to watch. I see Melancholia. "Ooh, that's supposed to be a good movie." I say. We check the description. "The relationship between two sisters is strained as a planet approaches set to collide with Earth." "You want to watch that?" says the boyfriend. "It's a Lars Von Trier film." I say. "I see", says the boyfriend, in a faux grave tone.

I'd like to know who writes the descriptions of these films because, frankly, it sounded like some cheezy, low-budget science fiction flick. Had I not known it was a Von Trier film, I would have been like: "No." Now, it's a Friday night, we're both tired but the boyfriend says "Ok, let's give it a try." Within the first 10 seconds, I know I'll be watching this film alone. It's all slow motion art house images and after a couple minutes, I hear "No. I can't watch this. Too tired. Need something fluffy."

So I watched it the following morning. It was definitely not a Friday night, we're tired and we need fluff kind of film. This movie demands your full attention as everything is happening just under the surface, except for the advancing planet set to collide with Earth but even that element was subtly enfolded into the story, and took on more and more importance as the film progressed but not in an in your face "We will stop this from happening! We are human and we are unbeatable!" kind of way.

It was much more powerful because the film took the opposite approach. This planet is heading towards us and there's not a damn thing we can do about it. What does that mean? I cried at the end, as apparently, I do with all Von Trier films I've seen. I loved it because it took a fresh approach to a tired storyline and was very much about the characters, and not the strange circumstance in which they found themselves. It's a very quiet, philosophical film.

The description should have read: "It's Lars Von Trier, bitches. Watch this f*cking movie."


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