A Look Through Thiseye

If I ruled the world, the pay-at-the-pump at gas stations would ask all questions (besides selecting payment and fuel type) AFTER the gas starts flowing! Seriously, who’s the genius who thought they’d make the interface ask if you want a car wash or if you want a receipt up front … immediately preceding a period where the customer is going to be standing there for several minutes twiddling their thumbs? I’ll do an entire survey on your tiny screen during that time … if you just started the damn gas quicker!

So most people who know me know that I have a tendency to overanalyze things. That said, has anyone else ever thought about the greetings that we give each other during special events such as birthdays, anniversaries and (particularly this time of year) holidays? We say things like “happy birthday” or “merry xmas” or “happy new year” … but are we really saying anything? Sure it’s the thought that counts, but grammatically, these are really incomplete thoughts. A noun preceded by an adjective does not a thought make (man, my grammar teachers would have a field day with that sentence ironically enough). Everyone would agree that “cordless phone”, “blue diamonds” and “purple horseshoes” are phrases that do not make sense by themselves. So in my own weird way, I usually try to extend the normally used phrases into complete sentences: “Hope you have a happy birthday” or “Have a great new year”. Still, when I have to think fast, I admit that I go with the shortened form. I guess in this fast-paced world of portable yogurt and drive-thru liquor stores, it’s too much to ask to take the time to form a complete sentence. I mean, you wouldn’t say to your friend “Great trip!” before they go on vacation, would you? Or tell your girlfriend “Red rose!” on Valentine’s Day and expect her to understand?

It amazes me how materialistic people can be. Everything in this country is about getting the bigger, better, faster, more powerful, newer whatever. Does this really make people happy? Actually, I know it does for some people, and that, to me, is rather interesting. I mean I have a decent car, a decent home that I own and even a nice TV. I consider myself pretty well off, but I don’t really get pleasure in buying things or upgrading. Even with the TV that I bought a few months ago, I second-guessed afterwards whether I really wanted to keep it. I mean, I know that I don’t need it. For how little I watch TV, it is excessive. But my open living room necessitates a large TV. But I’ll admit that my place is too big for me, too. So excessiveness begets excessiveness. I really think that’s what happens to a lot of people. I bought this place as an investment/nicer place to live than an apartment. I have an extra bedroom that I use only because my computer is in there. That could easily be in my living room. I bought couches because I suppose that’s something you have to have, but I don’t use them very often. I have a bar so I bought bar stools that I never use. What else am I going to do with a bar if I don’t get stools for it? I bought a dining table that I never use. Again, what am I going to do with all that space if I don’t buy a table for it? I have an extra bathroom that is completely unnecessary for me besides convenience. Only on a few occasions have I had guests that used the tub in there.

That’s what I see in my life. What I see in others makes me shake my head. I know it’s nice to spoil yourself every now and then, and I can certainly understand if there really is a benefit to the excessiveness. But how often do we convince ourselves that “it’s worth it”? Is it really? I think a lot of people aren’t true to themselves when they ask these questions. At what point does it just become a symbol of your social status? Do you really need that eight-passenger SUV? How about that 400 horsepower car? Wouldn’t something that gets, say, more than 20 mpg make a little more sense? But no, this is not a country of sense. This is a country of flashiness, of having the best, of making your neighbor green with envy. I still don’t know what happiness is, but I know that it’s not found in big houses or fancy cars … at least not for me.

Okay, so I make it through the night fine. Sleeping in the brace actually turns out to be not too bad at all. I consider going in to work later in the day Thursday but am rather embarrassed about the whole situation and don’t really want to deal with all the questions. So I stay at home, although I considered going in after hours to avoid contact. Cyndi calls me to see how I’m doing. Apparently the rumor mill was abuzz even though I told John and Leon that I probably won’t want to mention it at work. I’m kinda glad they did, though, because that was less I had to deal with when I made it in. Apparently, the stories of me describe me as a “superstar” going off those jumps before my little incident. I balk at that kind of talk: considering how it ended, it was an embarrassment, not something to brag about … no matter how good I was doing before.

I decide to go to my dodgeball game that night even though I couldn’t play. I think the main reason I went was to start dealing with the questions and being in public with the brace. Unfortunately, we had a low turnout that day, so a lot of my friends weren’t there. I consider going in to work on Friday because a lot of my friends at work were going to Vail for our annual lab ski trip so that’s less I’d have to face, but I decide just to stay at home. I drive back to the hospital to get my x-rays for my appointment with the spine specialist later in the week. That was quite a scary experience not being able to turn my neck to check my blind spots or back up, and I decide that I should not be driving short of going to work and back (I’m pretty close to work, and I can take small roads without too much traffic). As news spread, all my friends were very generous with their offerings of help. I guess it didn’t really all hit me until Saturday night when we went to go see a play. I was driving to Leon’s place, and I’m not sure what happened. I just thought of everything I like doing, and how I fucked it all up by getting hurt. About what could have happened and what may still happen. I wiped my eyes and composed myself as I approached my friend’s place.

Sunday, at the suggestion of D, I hosted an impromptu Oscar party. Surprisingly, my place was already pretty clean, but I managed to do the rest before everyone came. We had a pretty good turnout, and it was a fun time. I was surprised there was enough interest in the show and just hanging out that we never pulled out the boardgames that we had planned. And then came Monday …

My first day back at work. I was eager to get back to work but was still not excited about dealing with the questions. I was also self-conscious about the brace though I had been out with it during the weekend. Monday was not good for me though. Just walking the halls to my desk was upsetting as I got the obligatory stares. I just sat at my desk and didn’t want to leave. I wept for the second time as I just couldn’t deal with everything. Cyndi and Shannon came by later to see how I was doing, and I couldn’t even look them in the eye. I eventually returned to my normal self, more or less, by the end of the day, but there were still a lot of questions. Apparently, John and Leon had kept everything a little low-key at my behest. Unfortunately, this meant I had to deal with “What the heck happened to you?” and other random comments. I was a little curt at first to these comments. When I realized how few people knew of the details, I started composing an email to the group … a FAQ, if you will. Here’s what happened; I don’t know how long I’m in the brace; yes, I have to sleep in it; no, I’m not in pain, etc. By the end of the day, I decided not to send the email figuring it’d trigger more questions and possibly come off as rude. I also considered putting up a sign at my desk detailing what happened because I really didn’t want to talk about it, but I got over that.

One thing that I can’t come to terms with is that I got upset when some people showed sympathy. Not like my friends or coworkers, but random people. I feel like an ass, but I could seriously do without random person X saying, “Sorry about your neck,” or whatever. I mean seriously. I’ve never met you. Are you really being sincere, or do you just feel obligated to say something since you’re staring? People try to be nice but don’t realize that they’re not really helping. Note to readers: when someone’s hurt, stares and comments like, “Boy, I bet that’s uncomfortable,” don’t really help. If you have nothing to say, save us both the trouble and don’t say anything. Don’t feel the need to say something with the intent of showing sympathy but ends with you coming off as an ass, and the injured being reminded of his/her situation. Again, I feel like a jerk for thinking this way, but that’s the way I feel. We were out for St. Paddy’s day this weekend, and this one guy had an even bigger brace than me, and my friends were pointing him out to me. I’m assuming they thought that’d make me feel better in some way. Once I realized what they were pointing at, I averted my eyes and got mad at my friends. I’ve always been one to not make a big deal of such things, but I’m a little more cognizant of it now. I reminded them how shitty it feels when you catch someone staring. Surrounded by drunks, I had already dealt with a lot of ass-holey comments that night. This has been an eye-opening experience … like those events where they get people to move around in wheelchairs to see how it feels.

So going back to that first week: I got used to the brace and the comments, and work was somewhat normal. I had avoided telling my parents knowing that they would worry,. But I was scolded by several people when they heard that I hadn’t told them, so I called them Monday night. I must’ve sold it to them well because they were okay. I wanted to wait until I had more details Thursday, but that was too long to wait. That Thursday, I had my follow-up appointment. The more I talked to people, the more I realized how little I knew … how long I’d have the brace? Would I be ready for ultimate at the end of March? Would I be able to board again this season? So I was eager to find out more and have a person to ask questions to. I had braced myself (no pun intended) for having the brace for about three weeks and kinda taking it easy for a couple of more weeks after. John Martin seemed to think that I might get the brace off at my follow-up.

The follow-up was bittersweet, however. The x-rays showed that I was healing nicely, and he wasn’t too concerned about the injury itself. He said that had I never come to the hospital, I still probably would’ve healed fine, but the brace was just to ensure that it healed properly. He also said that I was told incorrectly and that there was no harm in turning my neck sideways and that I didn’t need to wear the brace to sleep. The bad news was that I’d have to wear the brace for five more weeks and not have any hard physical activity for three months. So I was pretty upset about that. I was fine until I was driving back to work, and I couldn’t stop crying. I guess I just wasn’t ready to hear that, though I thought I was. I quickly calculated three months would be mid-May … so no spring ultimate and no more boarding this season. I went back to work and emailed my ultimate team that I wouldn’t be able to play. I tried to work, but couldn’t focus. I took a walk around the building to calm down, but then just went to my boss to tell him I was pretty upset and that I was going home. I left without talking to anyone else and went to bed. My dodgeball team tried to get a hold of me to see if I was coming that night, but I was in no mood. I just turned off my phone and slept. After that, I’ve generally been fine. I called my parents to tell them the news, and I composed an email that night to all concerned friends/family with an update.

Wow, it’s already been a month since the incident. There’s still a little left to be told, though, so stay tuned.

So I went to the dentist a couple of weeks ago, and I mentioned how I never had braces. The hygienist says it’s really rare nowadays for someone to have straight teeth without braces. I thought about what she said, as I tend to do. Really, do that many people get braces? I was surprised by what she said. So I thought, by natural selection, humans as a race would get better teeth because the people with straight teeth are more likely to procreate. But now, braces changed the game. Now, people with an unfavorable characteristic were on a level playing field with everyone else. As a result, humans’ teeth are staying the same or even getting worse. Thus, more people who need braces, and the cyclical process continues. I don’t like the sound of that … but I’m sure orthodontists love it. The same thing could be said about the drug industry. We’re screwing up natural selection!

Sometimes I think that there are two types of guys in the world: me and everyone else. I mean, not to be self-aggrandizing, but really … am I the only guy on this planet with morals?

This concludes quite possibly the vaguest post ever.