Having a pizza all to yourself

Last Saturday I decided to give myself a day off. I did very little until 9 pm, then I went to a friend’s place to watch a movie. Even beforehand I knew that I was going to order a pizza. If you know me, you know that I ordered pizza from Massimo’s, because that’s my kind of pizza. Most pizza not from Massimo’s is a waste of calories, like spiking your coffee with grease or eating an entire loaf of bread.

When the pizza came I got anxious, because I am extremely territorial about my food. Have you ever tried to share a meal with me? Don’t, because it’s a huge pain in the ass. I will not stop checking how much you’ve had, and I will scrutinize the size of each helping so that things are exactly equal. We should really just order two dishes to ourselves, but even then, if you ask me for a a bite of whatever I’m having, be prepared for me to say “help yourself” and then turn my head because I can’t bear to watch you helping yourself. If the spoonful you take has any paneer cubes in it, you are going to get an earful. I’ll tell you I’m just kidding, but really I’m not.

On this particular evening, once the pizza came, I went into surveillance mode. The way I feel about pizza when other people are around is probably similar to the way parents feel about their kids when there are childless adults circling the playground. Even if the people around me didn’t want any of my pizza, and that’s impossible because everyone wants pizza, I would still be distracted because hey, there’s pizza. There’s really no point in me being out with people if there’s a pizza to be had, the same way there’s no point making small talk at a party when you can go somewhere and have sex.

Once we ate all the pizza, we watched a movie and I passed out. When I woke up, I had to walk home in the cold. Even though it was nice to see friends, I probably should have stayed home that night and ordered a pizza all to myself. Ordering a pizza all to yourself is the ultimate way to relax. It is better than a vacation.

In life, people place demands on people, and people place demands on themselves, and everyone has to work really hard to keep everyone happy. There’s also a limited amount of time for pleasure, so pleasure has to be maximized, which also takes work. When there’s a whole pizza in front of you, though, everything else ceases to exist. No one will demand a slice of pizza from you, and the voice in your head that would be screaming at you not to eat that pizza is muffled because you’ve gone and done it anyway. Furthermore, you don’t have to worry about making the most of your slice allotment, because all the slices are yours. By the fifth slice you’ll feel sick, so any whole pizza is basically infinite pizza. And that’s what really makes a whole pizza better than a vacation: you will actually be glad when it’s over.

The other thing about eating a whole pizza is that it’s death behaviour. When your weekends consist of staying in and ordering whole pizzas, you’ve pretty much given up on life. This is meaningful because in life you have to balance wanting to get things done with wanting everything to stop so you can get some goddamn peace for a change.

When everything stops, you are dead. But who wants to actually die? That’s why, when you order yourself a whole pizza, you should skip breakfast the next morning and do laundry instead.

Falling outs

When I was in high school, I had a friend who I loved very much. So much that it didn’t make any sense for me not to be in love with her. I fantasized about wanting to fantasize about her. We had two kinds of friendships in one: a friendship where we went out together all the time, and an actual friendship. Both were the best.

Toward the end of grade 12, she got very into politics, and I got very into working at a record store. We started to drift apart. Often when friends start to drift apart, one or both parties think it would be easier just to kill the whole thing dead with a horrible fight. One or both parties are wrong, because falling outs are really curses that ex-friends put on each other for all time.

I don’t actually know how this friend felt about our falling out. I imagined she didn’t care because I sucked too much to care about. Imagining she didn’t care is part of the whole curse. Another part of the curse is having dreams about her where I wake up screaming the word “cunt” and my boyfriend at the time worries about the neighbours.

Because you’re never talking again, ex-friends are easy to mythologize. They morph from people into angels of righteousness who hate your guts. In my mind, this ex-friend became like one of those ghosts who visit people on Christmas Eve and tell them everything they’re doing wrong.

Unlike significant others, who you get together with because of all sorts of wild feelings that the brain would kill dead if it only had the power, you form and maintain friendships with people because you like and respect them. When you respect someone, you respect their judgment. When they judge you to suck, you really take it seriously. When significant others judge you to suck, you can blame it on them, or on human smells.

Because I respected this friend, and because she judged me to suck, it took me a very long time to stop feeling bad about the ways she judged me to suck. I still feel sort of bad, even though I have also thought a lot about the ways in which she was full of it. I will continue to feel sort of bad about these ways until a new friend helps me feel better about them. Then that friend and I will fall out, and I will feel bad about other things that sucks about me.

Fondness vs. relationships

Two years ago, I started dating a guy. We liked each other so we decided to be together. Unfortunately I didn’t want to be with a guy like him, so I tried to nag him into being the kind of guy I wanted to be with. He didn’t want to be with a girl who nagged him about being the kind of guy he was.

The sex was good, though, as were the other moments where neither of us were talking, so we kept hanging out, and eventually we stopped caring about all the other stuff. After eight months, he got into a relationship with someone better suited to him, and broke up with me via text message. I remember him very fondly.

I remember the other guys I’ve dated with love sometimes, but never really fondness. Fondness is when you have a good idea of who someone is and really dig them for being that way. Somewhere in my head I have a good idea of who my ex-boyfriends are, but it’s buried under all the things I wanted them to be and all the ways they disappointed me. Also, all the things they didn’t like about me and all the ways I resented them for not liking me enough as I was.

There are lots of people I’m fond of. I can be fond of them because I’m not trying to squish our lives together to make a new life. It’s hard to stay fond of someone whose life is rat kinging to yours. People take their lives very seriously and there are a lot of variables to consider. When your life becomes a new life made up of someone else’s life, it can feel like The Thing.

Sometimes when I sleep with someone I’m fond of, I imagine our lives all rat kinged together. Inevitably there are things about them that simply wouldn’t do in my life, and I start to feel embarrassed. Then I remember that there is no such rat king, and that our lives are still two different lives. And then I am more fond of them than ever, because wanting to have sex with someone and not being able to is another thing that muddies up your idea of how they are.

I’m not being all cynical about relationships. Good relationships are great. But to have a good relationship, you need two people who are OK with the idea of rat kinging their lives together. I have no idea where you guys find each other.

Periods when you feel awesome about yourself vs. periods when you feel shitty about everything you do

I felt really great about myself this summer. Every day it was awesome spending time with me, and I had to take it on faith that I am a shitty person in many ways. At a certain point I thought, “What kind of jerk likes herself this much?” Then the smarter brain, which was my favourite brain, said, “Enjoy it while you can, because in a month you’re going to think you’re a shitty person and have to take it on faith that you’re even OK.”

Well, the smarter brain was right, even though big whoop. Right now I am a whiny whiner with a whining problem. I am dissatisfied with myself and everything I do. I feel like everyone I know is making fun of me, which is both crazy, because no one gives a shit, and not crazy, because actually believing that is a good way to get people to make fun of you.

I’m not trying to whine. I’m just describing the phase I’m in. It’s a good phase to go through, because even though it makes you a bummer, it prevents you from being a jerk who likes herself too much. Also, thinking you’re shitty helps you get better at the million things you suck at.

I don’t understand why phases have to be like pirate ship rides, though. Why can’t we all go through just one phase, in which we act upon honest assessments of our strengths and weaknesses? I think it’s because music would be a lot more boring that way, and no one would ever finish their novels.

The right song for the way you feel

I have been feeling a certain way lately that I want to find the right song for. But I don’t know any songs that work for it. The only song that comes close is a Feist song. Feist is great but I can’t have my song be a Feist song. Someone reading this might say, “Who cares if it’s a Feist song? If you like the song, just have that be the song.” But they don’t get it. It’s not even an exact fit anyway.

If I found the right song I’d listen to it over and over and over again. I’d think I was getting sick of it, but then I’d put it on once more and the cycle would begin anew. No amount of listening to that song would ever seem like enough. It would hurt not to be listening to that song. What would be great is that I could always listen to it again.

There’s nothing else in the world you can do that with. You can’t do it with movies or books because they take too long. You definitely can’t do it with food. And the fact that you can’t do it with places or people is the reason you need songs to do it with in the first place.

Half the time, at least. Sometimes you just really like the song.

Believing in astrology

I don’t believe in astrology, but I also believe in it. You know what I mean? I choose to believe in it because it’s fun. Also, it’s nice to be told what to do sometimes, if the person telling you is authoritative enough. The cosmos aren’t a person but that gives them more authority.

There’s no harm in believing your horoscope. I will take slightly more pleasure in life if I think I’m going to come into some money in the near future. And if my horoscope tells me to do something reasonable, why wouldn’t I do it? For example, if my horoscope tells me to be extra friendly to people this week because that way I’ll get money, I see no reason not to that. If it tells me to kill a cat or all my friends will die, I won’t. But horoscopes never tell you to do things like that because all the horoscope writers probably want to get syndicated.

I think believing in astrology is actually a good thing, because it reminds you that you can believe in something and also not believe in it. It’s good to be reminded that your brain is not just one brain but a bunch of brains all hanging out. It helps you feel better about all the fucked up things the rogue brains think.

Another thing it does is remind you that your brains don’t necessarily have to agree. For example, one brain might think someone is an idiot and deserves to die. But another brain knows that brain is just angry at something the person said or did, and it’s unfair to draw conclusions about someone’s character based on a perceived offence. Likewise, one brain might think that being born on a day makes you the same as everyone else born on that day, while another brain might think that’s insane.

Finally, believing in astrology is a good thing because it teaches you that pretty much all characteristics apply to everyone. For example, I’m a Gemini. That means I like having good conversations and that my brain is actually more than one brain. Both are true. But I’ve heard that moon signs mean more than sun signs. My moon is in Capricorn, which means I like to work hard on stuff I’m interested in. That’s true, as well. Believing in astrology helps you focus on certain characteristics rather than others. If you don’t do that, you might start to feel like you are no one.

At the end of the day, horoscopes are just a way of managing your million brains. I think that’s also what the self is for.

Why I shouldn’t smoke pot

If you and I ever have plans to watch a movie, and I say, “Hey, want to smoke some pot first?” you should definitely say no. You will not enjoy the movie because I will be asking you questions every five minutes about what soandso meant when they said suchandsuch to soandso, and what that says about their relationship.

If anything bad happens in the movie, I will start talking about how horrible it is and how awful it would be if anything like that happened to us. Then I will start talking about our lives and what’s wrong with them and what’s beautiful about them and how that’s so painful.

I will keep talking throughout the entire movie. And since you will be stoned, you won’t be able to tell me firmly but politely to stop talking. I will pick up on the fact that you are annoyed, though, and start talking about the fact that you seem annoyed. You will say “No, I’m not annoyed,” because you’ll think it will make me stop talking. And maybe it will, but only because all the embarrassment has overloaded my brain and I’ve basically become catatonic.

I am one of those people who cannot smoke pot around other people. The only time I have ever enjoyed smoking pot with other people was with some co-workers a couple years back. I spent the night bawling. The bawling was cathartic for me, but it made everyone else uncomfortable.

When I’m sober, I notice things. When I’m stoned, I discover the true nature of the world we live in and it always looks incredibly shitty. I hope this doesn’t reflect the true nature of my psyche. I want my psyche to think the world we live in is basically good, so that I feel at peace with everything when I die.

I obsess over the dynamics between people to the extent that I don’t even hear what they’re saying. And in my stoned worldview, hatred and misery underlies every human interaction. I don’t actually think that’s true, but it’s weird how convinced I am of it when I smoke pot.

Finally, everything I do is the worst thing I could have possibly done. And my life is definitely going down the wrong path and I need to change or I’m going to die or become a bum.

But I still smoke pot, fairly frequently. Maybe I am chasing the half-decent experience I have one in every ten times I get stoned. Or maybe I feel too OK most of the time. I need reminders that darkness exists in the heart of man and that lots of things I do are shitty.