Monthly Archives: October 2011

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.

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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.

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