Strangely Naked

About half way through December lists starting popping up recapping the waning year from various angles including social media timelines, major news stories, etc. But I think that discounts a world of opportunities that life may throw your way in the remaining weeks of a year. Life doesn’t acknowledge Gregorian calendars (someone make a motivational poster of that). I will use myself as a case in point. If I had done a 2014 recap on December 15, that would have missed a slew of new experiences forced my way.

On the evening of December 22, hurtling through the Troposphere in a metal tube of recycled air, I was confronted with an inevitability of an act I swore I would never commit. After nearly missing a connecting, red-eye flight, running at full speed while lugging two suitcases and a carry-on, being forced to sit in a different seat than the one I paid for, separated from my spouse, seated in an uncomfortable seat next to someone who apparently experiences night thrashes localized to her sharpened elbows, my intestines began to rumble. I thought I could ride it out, but then I was forced to choose between gassing out the economy section or doing the unthinkable: pooping on an airplane.

I waited until there was no line and the entire cabin seemed to be dark, everyone presumably sleeping. I crammed myself into the airplane lavatory and attempted to make quick work of the contents of my quivering intestines.  I opened the door to hopefully sneak back to my seat unnoticed. Unfortunately, my shame was not sent hurtling with my bodily waste and blue liquid to rain upon Arizona (at least that’s what I hope happened when I flushed because, really, Arizona deserves it), as there was a sizable crowd gathered outside. Upon seeing their disapproving looks, I wanted to wave my hands and declare, “Do not look upon me with scorn! I deserve your undying gratitude. You should all be offering to sprits my taint for sparing thee from the fate of my gaseous emissions unabated by the denial of bathroom usage! Hail me as your savior!” Instead I was subjected to the whispers of condemnation as the person who pooped up the airplane bathroom.

Another new experience was enduring a manicure/pedicure. Yeah, I did say “endure”. My feet are probably the most ticklish thing on my body. But aside from that, did you know that manicures and pedicures involve physical abuse? Under the guise of “massage” the nail-ist punched my legs. The other people with whom I attended this torture session considered it therapeutic, but it was a close-fisted punch. If I did the same thing outside of a nail salon, it would be called “assault.”

Another new experience was enduring a manicure/pedicure. Yeah, I did say “endure”. My feet are probably the most ticklish thing on my body. But aside from that, did you know that manicures and pedicures involve physical abuse? Under the guise of “massage” the nail-ist punched my legs. The other people with whom I attended this torture session considered it therapeutic, but it was a close-fisted punch. If I did the same thing outside of a nail salon, it would be called “assault.”

Finally, in the waning moments of 2014, I attended a New Year’s Eve party…sober (because I was getting over an illness). It was a living nightmare. Not all of it, but there came a point in the evening where people were wearing silly hats and it was the funniest thing in the world to them and every sentence uttered was a non sequitur. How do sober people have fun?

If I had done my year-end life-highlights before the year was over, I would have completely discounted these new experiences. Even now, I learned that I can write 300+ words about a poop story but only a couple of sentences about my fears of sobriety and hatred of pampering. Every moment is an opportunity for self-reflection, I guess.