Sunday, January 2, 2011

Satirical Self-Analysis - Part I

I've been somewhat missing in action the past month or so due to an extended bout of self-reflection (and thus self-pitying, self-loathing, etc etc), prompted by external events beyond my control.  My way of coping with this?  Sending it out to the blogosphere with a bit of a satirical twist to try and lighten my solemn mood.  What better (and more morbid) way to kick off the new year could there be?

Before I get into all that though, I feel the need to provide my insight on the concept of the new years resolution.  (hey, it's my blog - if you didn't want to read about my insights to this and that, you wouldn't be here, right?)
In my previous blog I wrote to this effect back in 2006, but in re-reading the material I think I summed it up pretty nicely for myself, so I'm just going to re-post my 2006 thoughts here for your enlightenment.

Essentially what I want to say is that new years eve?  Is bullshit.  I'm not saying this from a bitter standpoint...I'm too young to be tainted by news years eves past where I would stand alone at the stroke of midnight while couples around me started making out as if under some twisted, soft-core-porn-ish spell. So why is new years eve bullshit?
1. The pressure everyone is put under to have something extraordinary planned for their evening. I'm not against going out and having fun with friends or strangers anytime, but it seems like on new years eve everyone must become socialites for the evening until soon after the ball drops and everyone turns back into their tired selves. Bars that never have a cover charge are suddenly forcing you to pay $20 in advance to guarantee yourself a spot under their roof for the night, the malls are crazed with young women trying to find a whorish outfit that will help them find their prince charming to slobber all over at midnight and the liquor stores are packed with people stocking up on drinks guaranteed to make them do something completely embarrassing to ring in the new year. Remember when you were a little kid and the great thing about new years was the fact that it was the one night out of the year that you were guaranteed the right to stay up until midnight...an hour only heard of, but never seen? Of course you would either pass out by 10 or be so hopped up on sugar that you would be a perfect reminder to your young teenage babysitter why abstinence is the best policy.
2. Those who fool themselves into making a new years resolution with the belief that they will actually keep it. Why they think that by changing the number from 2010 to 2011 they will stop eating that entire pizza, start a strict exercise regimen, or curb their pack-a-day habit I'll never know. I'm convinced that the whole "resolutions" business was created by corporate America (much like Valentine's Day) as a way to turn a profit. Sales of diet pills, diet books, exercise equipment and videos, the nicorette patch, the nicorette gum etc soar for the first few weeks and as people start falling off (or getting back on) the wagon, they crash hard and that's when sales of cigarettes, Ben & Jerry's and just about any fast food option begin their incline. It's not until about April that things even out and life is as it once was. Really though, I'm quite convinced that you're destined to fail if you resolve to start your diet, or quit your smoking or whatever else it is that you want to start or stop doing come January 1st of any year. Chances are, whatever behaviour you've been engaging in (or neglecting as the case may be) is not new and you've known for quite sometime that you need to change your ways. If this is the case (which it most likely is), if you were really set on making the change you would've done it a lot sooner and not waited until the start of a new calendar year.  After all, January first is truly no different than any other day of the year.

As it pertains to the self-analysis portion of today's e-mail, we'll start off light and gradually build over the Satirical Self-Analysis Series - Parts 2 through whatever number I finish off with.  As with any other time I've delved into the practice of reflecting on myself, my behaviours, etc etc I start off by looking at the superficial things.  This often means I go into a cleaning or organization frenzy because it offers a welcome mental and physical distraction before I reach the darker depths of my psyche.  This time, it started at work.  The following e-mail to three lovely friends at work should explain quite nicely what I'm trying (and so easily failing) to convey here:

I find myself in a tough situation this morning.  Over the last few months in an effort to make more positive choices for myself, I made a significant effort to bring my lunch, and to make my own tea instead of stopping by Timmies.  The problem is that while I may be disciplined enough to bring these things to work, I'm not always disciplined enough to eat/drink what I bring, and will often choose to opt out for something else (especially if they're serving fish and chips in the caf).  It starts getting messy when I try convincing myself "hmm, I'll just eat that tomorrow"....then tomorrow turns into a few days, and then a few days turns into a week, and so on and so on.  Many good pieces of tupperware and travel mugs have been sacrificed in this ongoing problem of mine, and yet the problem continues.  It's a bit of an addiction.
I spent yesterday cleaning my desk and re-organizing my filing, but I can not bring myself to look after a few food-related discretions that haunt my work space.  This is where you come in.  I need your help in ridding the office of the ghosts of abandoned-foods past.  I propose we have a sort of ceremonial service in the ladies bathroom of simultaneous dumping and flushing of the foods and substances that were once liquids.
I'd love to be able to just do this on my own, but I know that's not the reality of the situation.  I need help.  Your help.  Before you respond by telling me to just dump my crap on my own and the sicker it makes me feel the less likely I'll be to do it again, I assure you, you're wrong.  Ryan has attempted this tough-love approach with me many a times, and this e-mail should be solid evidence that it doesn't work.
I have made small progress in changing my ways - but it will take time.  I've completed the first step  - admitting I have a problem.  Steps 2 and 3 are kind of a moot point for me, and I take inventory of my faults all the time, so step 4 is done on a regular basis (oh, and look at that - number 10 is the same idea!  Multi-tasker extraordinaire!).  I'd say this e-mail covers me for step 5, and I think we can totally count a bathroom ceremony as step 6 - even though you guys aren't god, but again, referring back to my comments about 2 and 3, that's quite alright with me - you fine ladies will do.

Following this e-mail there was a little back and forth which led to two of the ladies confessing their some of their "sins" - which in turn only highlighted more of mine.  One of the three proved herself to be a little OCD and thus lacking such faults, and was therefore promptly chastised by yours truly for her domestic purity.  Ultimately, the ladies pulled through.  At 2pm on the dot, the ladies showed up to my department complete with face masks to protect them from the smell and the potential for toxic fumes which may or may not emanate from the food containers upon opening.  Together, in solidarity, we marched to the nearest bathroom for the "Ceremonial Dump" (as we so lovingly called it), generating a little caution for the people in the board room who watched us walk by as if we were handling anthrax.
Post-dumping, the three ladies promptly removed themselves from the vicinity (I considered this to be self-preservation on their part), while I stayed behind to wash the containers and try and rid them of their putrid smells.  When I got back to my desk, I was informed by a coworker that someone had posted a sign on the bathroom door that read "Loony did it" (referring to the lingering odour that plagued the bathroom for hours after).  I frantically started explaining to people that the vile bathroom scent was generated by my problems with lunch disposal, and not a different kind of dumping.
To commemorate the event as well as the holidays, I wrote a song about the dumping, which should be sung to the tune of the "12 Days of Christmas".
NOTE:  The day after the dumping, I did sing this to the ladies during morning break and presented them with gifts of thanks.  I'm not an ingrate.
*Ah-hem*...


On the first purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me
A starbucks mug of coffee!

On the second purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
A container that held cheese, 
and a Starbucks mug of coffee!

On the third purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
Tupperware for meat,
A container that held cheese,
and a Starbucks mug of coffee!

On the Fourth purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
A bowl that once held soup,
Tupperware for meat,
A container that held cheese,
And a Starbucks mug of coffee!

On the Fifth purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
Twooo Month Old Broccoliiiiii!
A bowl that once held soup,
Tupperware for meat,
A Container that held cheese,
And a Starbucks mug of coffee!

On the Sixth purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
Moldy peppermint tea,
Twooo Month Old Broccoliiiii!
A bowl that once held soup, 
Tupperware for meat,
A container that held cheese,
And a Starbucks mug of coffee!

On the Seventh purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
Stir-fry that went furry,
Moldy Peppermint Tea,
Twooo Month Old Broccoliiii!
A bowl that once held soup,
Tupperware for meat,
A container that held cheese,
And a Starbucks mug of coffee!

On the Eighth purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
4 week old jelly,
Stir-fry that went furry,
Moldy peppermint tea,
Twooo Month Old Broccoliiii!
A bowl that once held soup,
Tupperware for meat,
A container that held cheese,
And a Starbucks mug of coffee!

On the Ninth purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
Three month old  orange,
Four week old jelly,
Stir-fry that went furry,
Moldy peppermint tea,
Twooo Month Old Broccoliiii!
A bowl that once held soup,
Tupperware for meat,
A container that held cheese,
And a Starbucks mug of coffee!

On the Tenth purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
Ten week old green tea,
Three month old orange,
Four week old jelly,
Stir-fry that went furry,
Moldy peppermint tea,
Twooo month old Broccoliiii!
A bowl that once held soup,
Tupperware for meat,
A container that held cheese,
And a Starbucks mug of coffee!

On the Eleventh purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
Liquid watermelon,
Ten week old green tea,
Three month old orange,
Four week old jelly,
Stir-fry that went furry,
Moldy peppermint tea,
Twooo month old broccoliii!!
A bowl that once held soup,
Tupperware for meat,
A container that held cheese,
And a Starbucks mug of coffee!

On the TWELFTH purge of Christmas, Loony gave to me,
Chunkified hot chocolate,
Liquid watermelon,
Ten week old green tea,
Three month old orange,
Four week old jelly,
Stir-fry that went furry,
Moldy peppermint tea,
Twoooo month old broccoliii!!
A bowl that once held soup,
Tupperware for meat,
A container that held cheese,
And a Starbucks mug of coffee!


2 comments:

Anonymous said...

OMG!! Seriously, when are you going to switch careers and do stand up comedy? I will buy tickets to your first show. Did you really sing to your coworkers? I hope they taped it. Miss youuuuu!
Wawa-lover

Loonybin said...

Oh my dear Wawa-lover...I will never be a stand-up comedian, for you see...I'm not funny in person. But yes, I did sing to my coworkers (much to their dismay I'm sure), and they suggested I get a job writing jingles for advertisements. Writer? Sure. Comedian? I couldn't pull it off :(