Strange Behaviors

I’ve been in isolation for 54 days now, and it feels like I live in my own universe. Here is just a sample of some of the thoughts that have crossed my mind during this crazy time… May this act as a record so it doesn’t all disappear like a dream when we’re back to checking our phones while packed like sardines on the bus to work to avoid talking to each other.

  • Do I smell worse or is my sense of smell just getting stronger?
  • My shoes don’t fit anymore. Did they shrink?! (No they’re just swollen from sitting on the couch all day)
  • Falafel makes me gag. At least if I’m the one who made it. Possibly based on the fact that I mixed the tahini sauce in a jar that previously had mouthwash in it.
  • I don’t like those “virtual ensemble” videos* that are floating around. The point of ensembles is that we respond and interact with each other and the audience IN REAL TIME. We don’t need to find shitty replacements for everything we had in the before!! We need to find things that work with what we have NOW. *I’ve made one. And it was fun. So, there’s that.
  • Literally nothing drags me out of a funk quicker than a long one-on-one talk with a close friend. Laggy group video chats make me want to smash things.
  • Getting outside is a close 2nd, but I’ve learned biking is far superior to walking, because I can blissfully avoid all the couples. You can’t hold hands and force me off the sidewalk while riding bikes, motherfuckers.
  • With no work schedule to adhere to, you can just change all the clocks in your apartment to suit what time it is in your head. That being said, doing this caused an artificial “jet lag,” and a lot of confusion with friends in “different time zones” so I changed the clocks back and learned not to judge myself for waking up at 2pm.
  • I need more wigs.
  • Going on walks alone is getting old… there must be some way to force my cat to come with me… I should get him a stroller.
  • I’d rather follow all of Donald Trump’s medical advice during this time than live between two neighbor-couples who participate in the following activities, respectively, every single day: 1. Porn-grade sex (loud, obnoxious, and unrealistically enjoyable) 2. Romantic picnics on a blanket on our SHARED BALCONY, playing the same song on the ukulele over and over while singing along, and constant laughing. Like, Elmo from Sesame Street laughing. Adorable, joyful, but somehow I wanna strangle you laughing. What the fuck could possibly be that funny?! DID YOU TWO MEET IN A FUCKING DISNEY PRINCESS MOVIE???
  • Mainstream porn is horrifying.
  • Trimming my cat’s butt hair to avoid pee-absorption feels like I’m shearing a sheep, and is strangely satisfying.
  • Playing etudes on violin is actually kindof fun, if I change the voice in my head from “this needs to be perfect for a lesson with my judgmental asshole of a teacher” to “let’s just give my brain something to do other than staring at the grease stains on my kitchen wall!”
  • Drinking in the evening makes me sleep like shit. Drinking in the morning is self-love.
  • Also self-love: bras. My boobs have been KICKIN IT.
  • Kimchi is really fun and easy to make, and way cheaper and tastier than store-bought… but to get the ingredients, you need to risk your life in the tiny aisles of the Asian grocery store.
  • Speaking of cabbage, I have not had to hold in a fart for 54 days.
  • Dancing alone doesn’t interest me.
  • Talking to myself in whatever character pops in to visit however, does.
  • I resent ANY kind of scheduling coming from the outside world- but the more I stick to a loose personal schedule, the less time I spend contemplating my meaninglessness in the world.
  • Cutting your own hair is therapeutic and empowering.
  • I never look in the mirror anymore, but when I do, it’s FRIGHTENING.
  • I don’t like getting advice when I’m feeling low. I don’t care how much the thing that worked for you could help me- by telling me I should be trying something, the message I’m getting subliminally is “You’re not good enough right now.” I just want to be heard. This is a serious one, and something that’s going to change how I am as a friend going forward in a huge way.
  • I don’t miss shopping, or eating out… I miss people, and live performances. And hairdressers.
  • Cooking shows and the first two seasons of The Office (where I can pretend I’m Pam, and Jim is mega-crushing on me) are a lovely way to take a mental vacation from Covid.
  • Listening to a meditation podcast where you’re expressly told to sit up and stay alert, is a great way to fall asleep at night.
  • It means SO MUCH when a friend does something for you on your birthday above just writing “Happy Birthday” on your facebook wall, especially if you’re single and live alone. This inspired me to figure out all my friend’s birthdays and put them in my calendar, so I can have more than zero minute’s notice to do something special if I have the means.
  • You can try to group a bunch of things into one delivery online, but [name of company I’m ashamed I ordered from] will still ship each damn thing to you individually. I’m looking at you, box of 12 pens.
  • Because delivery guys are some of the only people I can still interact with in real life, I find myself yelling words of love and affection at them after they’ve delivered something like I’m at a Beatles concert in the 60’s.

Feel free to comment with something bizarre or life-changing you’ve thought/tried during isolation!

Don’t Cook my Cat

I’m sitting at my desk in 8th grade science class with Mr. Doucet. For some reason though, all we’ve done for the past few weeks is sing pop songs, and he ALWAYS gives the solo part to Max. Everybody is frustrated but nobody wants to speak up. Mr. Doucet just has his favourite, and that’s all there is to it. But today instead of joining the tense silence, I stand up and walk over to him, meeting him in the front left corner of the classroom. I tell him we are fed up with Max getting all the special attention, that there are other people in the class who would like a chance to sing too. He rips me to shreds with his dark beady eyes, and arches his back so he is towering over me. “You just want the solo for yourself, don’t you. You’re so selfish and stuck-up! You think that just because you play the violin you’re better than the rest of us.” I turn to my classmates and say “No, I am speaking to you on behalf of everybody. We all feel this way. Who here wishes they could have a chance?” And everybody not only raises their hands, but they add to the conversation. I sit down at my desk, feeling elated that I have just helped a room full of people find their voice. My boyfriend is next to me. He looks at me and smiles, softly interlacing his fingers with mine. “That was embarrassing. You should really keep your thoughts to yourself” he coos. And I just nod my head. In silence.

And then I wake up. Nicely played, dreams…

Three months ago, I broke up with someone who for one year, ever so subtly, tore down the walls around the foundation of everything I know and love about myself. He made me feel like I was deeply flawed. My identity went from happy, beautiful, talented, empowered and compassionate to the identity he projected onto me: insecure, judgmental, stressed, sexually repressed, unattractive, needy, selfish. Not in touch with my “true” feelings. Not a “real” artist. The list goes on. Every fight began with me trying to express how something he said (or didn’t say) had hurt me, and ended with me apologizing. Your needs don’t matter. That was the destination being stamped onto my relationship passport. A place I’ve visited many times before. Thank God he said something so colossally hurtful at the end that I couldn’t let slide, or I might have stayed with him for another year. Or 5, or 10. Ever since, I have been rebuilding my house, stronger than it ever was before. I am finding my voice because I am determined NEVER to let someone walk all over me like that again. Only I get to decide what virtues I have, and what flaws; and whether or not I’ll work on them. I’d say my conscious mind is pretty fucking on top of things, but my subconscious is like “Just in case, I’m going to throw in this dream where your boyfriend is COOKING YOUR FUCKING CAT IN THE OVEN for dinner, and you nod tacitly as though it’s a new recipe on pinterest before dream-smacking yourself and snatching the love of your life into your arms.” (The cat, obviously, not the douchebag)

It’s amazing how empowering it is to say No. To say, this isn’t good enough for me. To let myself feel anger instead of justifying someone’s shitty behavior by psycho-analyzing their childhood. It’s extremely hard, coming from a background where I was terrified to admit when something was hurting me because it meant making my sweet mom who suffered from serious depression sad or angry, and all I wanted was for her to be happy. It’s funny because all she wanted was for me to be happy… so we were doing quite an elaborate dance of repressed emotions. If only we’d realized honesty is what paves the way to happiness. I want to be clear though, there is the kind of “honesty” my Ex dished out; and there is honesty from a place of true vulnerability, love, and respect. A dear colleague once told me “Honesty without compassion is cruelty.” And that is the difference between a healthy relationship, and an abusive one. We must find the courage to express ALL of our feelings, not just the “good” ones. To be able to say “I love you, AND this behavior is hurting me;” not “There is something wrong with you; I will love you when you fix it.” To respond with “Thank-you for telling me, what could I try to do differently?” instead of “What about MY feelings. This is YOUR fault.”

There is room for everybody’s feelings. Not just those who have the loudest voices, or the most pain. We just have to be willing to put down our weapons and listen. And until I find a partner who is able to do that, I’m just going to keep working on my house.

Cooking with my cat (“with” being the operative word)