I'm happy to report that I've gotten into the habit of playing DDR semi-daily. It feels good to get a workout, and I'm happy about the thought of getting into better shape. I've gotten to the point where I can start off on Standard, as long as I choose the easier songs, to get warmed up. I have to say, HVAM is every bit as good as it was back in the day, and it really stands out because it gives you a good stream, without a lot of tricks - just a steady, fast-paced workout. And, sweating feels so much better when you don't have clothes on that'll just get soaked and cling to your body. Bouncing around without support can be a little 'interesting', but I haven't found it to be a problem. Although, sometimes it can distract you and become quite a different kind of problem...
Yesterday the weather was relatively mild, which I think I mentioned in the last entry. I was expecting it to be warm, since the temperature was supposedly in the 50's, overnight, and my brother was sort of freaking out about how nice it was, but when I went out to investigate, all I felt was a rather chill breeze. It was nice, compared to the snowy weather we've been having, but not exactly 'comfortable', in my opinion. Which is a shame, because glancing out the blinds on the front door, I was actually getting an excited urge to try something I've never done before. Something very risky, but that I want to do really bad. It's simple, and there really shouldn't be any problem about it, but that's just not the way this society is. All I want to do is take a walk around the block without any clothes on. That's all.
Well, I thought the temperature might be a bit more bearable if I was a little warmed up, so I played DDR for awhile, and when I started getting hot, I felt the mood take me. I wasn't about to do the block thing, since right after thinking that, I saw a car pull into a driveway up the street, but instead, I grabbed my bokken and put on my sandals (since I figured the extra protection would be a good idea for jumping around, as opposed to simply walking around the yard - I wouldn't want to come down hard on a stick or a particularly sharp rock, and ruin all my fun) and I went outside. For once, I ignored whatever insecurities I might have about somebody just happening to be up and glancing out a window to see me, and I started swinging that bokken around, practicing the things I was taught, and imagining myself cutting down invisible enemies left, right, front, and back. It felt great. It was good practice, and it totally boosted my enthusiasm.
If only this sort of thing could be more accepted. I wouldn't have to continue feeling like I have to hide. I went outside again tonight, after tiring myself at DDR. It's colder out tonight, but after getting heated up from a good workout, going outside is one way to cool off quick. And from another perspective, heating up first is a great way to get yourself prepared to go out when the weather's colder. I was too tired to do more bokken practice today, and besides, I wasn't planning on staying out that long, but I wandered around the yard a bit, and enjoyed myself. The ground was damp and a bit muddy, and rather cold. My feet got chilled pretty quick, but instead of running for shelter, I sucked it up, and was able to endure it for quite awhile. Walking through the damp grass and mud actually felt kind of nice, despite my general hatred for dirt of any kind. I went around front, to the porch, and sat down for a brief moment. Then I walked to the front corner of the yard, circled the hydrant, then walked the length of the yard, out on the street past the curb, till I got past the van (parked at the end of the driveway), at which point I re-entered the yard and went toward the back, and around, back inside. Just like I did once before, which I may or may not have mentioned in an entry a while back. I may have left muddy footprints on any part of the pavement I walked on, but I don't really care; it was totally worth it.
Switching gears somewhat, I'm kind of proud of the nude photo I shot today for my project. It was a planned out concept that I think works fairly well. Basically, it's a variation on the three wise monkeys (see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil), which works as a bold statement about the supposed indecency of exposure, and various ideas about censorship. If you can get past the silliness of the idea, it's actually pretty meaningful, I'd like to think. Honestly, I don't know if anyone reading this blog also follows my Daily Nudes project, but if you don't, yet you're interested in seeing this particular shot, I'll spare you the search and give you the link right here - warning: obviously not safe for work, unless you have a cool job :p - (http://www.flickr.com/photos/zharth/2311426357/). Of course, you'll have to be logged in and have the SafeSearch off to see it. And, as always, it's completely up to you if you want to check it out, or not.
Showing posts with label clean. Show all posts
Showing posts with label clean. Show all posts
05 March, 2008
06 February, 2008
Get A Haircut, You Dirty Hippie
Firstly, anyone who says that has no idea of the lengths to which I go in order to be and stay clean. But the issue I'd like to address here is my unconventionally long hair. Particularly for a guy. You rarely see a girl with hair as long as mine, and I don't think I've ever seen a guy with hair this long. So the obvious question is, why do I have such long hair?
The main reason is actually rather mundane. I've always been averse to getting a haircut. The whole situation is uncomfortable to me, having someone's attention focused exclusively on me for a period of time, that sort of thing. As a child, I would get a haircut fairly regularly simply because that's normal, and that's what my parents decided, and I had little to say over it. But I gradually managed to extend the time between haircuts, so that there would be long periods where I wouldn't get one, and my hair would grow out relatively long (in this case, meaning long enough to cover my face in the front) - this would be around high school days, I guess. Having hair that long was kind of cool, because I loved being able to hide my face behind my hair to avoid people, but it was also kind of liberating to get it cut short after a while. Ultimately, though, the act of getting a haircut just became too much of a bother to me, and somewhere around the time I got my senior picture, I gave up on it completely, and just let my hair grow out unhindered. I haven't taken or allowed a blade to be taken to it since.
So the primary reason for me is convenience. You might say that getting a haircut once a month is a lot easier than washing long hair everyday. Maybe you have a point, but for me, going out and getting a haircut is a lot harder than washing my hair everyday. I'm used to washing my hair and it really doesn't bother me. Going out and getting a haircut, on the other hand, would be traumatizing. That having been said, convenience is not the only reason I continue to have long hair to this day. Though it may have started that way, since growing my hair out, I've become very attached to it, and now there are other reasons for me to keep it.
Having long hair has a certain appeal. I like to challenge people's ideas about things, force them to think in new ways. By being a guy and having long hair, I force people to question their notions of what people can be like. I guess maybe, people who get piercings and visible tattoos, and wear weird fashions and such, might be doing it partly for that same reason. But it's also more than that. I actually like the long hair, for what it is. Part of that is because it connects me to two symbols that I hold respect for - hippies, and elves. Although a lot of the hippies I see in documentaries and rock festivals don't have hair quite as long as mine (especially the guys) - and aren't nearly as naked as I'd thought they would be - the long hair still taps into that whole social movement where the hippies wanted to challenge society's standards about how guys should wear their hair (among other things), and the image of freedom represented by letting your freak flag fly.
In addition to the hippies specifically, guys with longer hair than normal have always been a staple of certain sections of the music scene. The guy with long hair is a rocker. When Bob Seger sings, "most times you can't hear 'em talk, other times you can; the same old cliche, is that a woman or a man?", I know what that's like firsthand. And although I try to take it as a compliment, considering how I feel about girls, it's still pretty embarrassing to be mistaken for one. Even before I went super-long, when I was back in elementary school, I was at the pool with a friend once, and I remember hearing a kid scream out "mommy, that girl doesn't have a top on!" (Obviously, this would be way back at the age before girls started 'developing' significantly...). I'm happy that I can laugh about it now, but it was pretty uncomfortable at the time. But even so, my hair means too much to me to lose it for the sake of other people's expectations.
I mentioned elves above. Whereas hippies don't necessarily have hair as long as mine, especially on the guys, elves frequently have hair this long, and the guys just as often as the girls. I'm fascinated by elves. I feel a certain kinship with them. They are a natural race, living in closer communion with nature, and they are often described as being beautiful, wise, and knowing how to extract simple but profound pleasures from life - for example, in the form of song and dance. Anything that relates me to this race brings me closer to the ideal image of what I would like to be.
There's another reason that I treasure my long hair. A very important reason, that I've avoided thus far. I'll be blunt. There was a girl I [hardly] knew in college, with the longest, most beautiful golden locks, like something out of a fantasy. Her hair was probably a bit longer than mine is now, and a little more wavy, probably because she not infrequently wore it in a braid. She cut it in half or so, later on. There's a lot of troubling emotional nuances to the situation, but having my own hair as it is, partly serves as a connection to what I loved, and partly as a challenge to what I hated. If I cut it now, not only would I lose that connection, but I'd also lose the challenge...
And while we're talking about cutting, I'd like to take a moment to issue my stance on Locks of Love. I have absolutely nothing against it, and I think that what they're doing is great. However, I have been hounded by so many people, telling (not asking) me to donate my hair, that it can't help getting on my nerves. When somebody honestly compliments me on my hair, which happens a lot, I am genuinely pleased. However, when they then proceed to instruct me on getting rid of it for the sake of some charity, my enthusiasm wanes. And that's to say nothing of the people who mention it outright, before ever saying "wow, your hair is long", or "I like your hair", but rather come right up to me and say "you're donating that to Locks of Love, right?", as if it was a statement, and not a question. That really gets on my nerves. Just because it's a good thing, does everybody in the world who grows their hair out *have* to donate? I thought this was a free country, not a fascist dictatorship. Some people just *don't* have their priorities straight, and unfortunately, in my experiences, that reflects badly on Locks of Love. If you want my advice, tell the people not to be so Jehova's Witness about it. I mean, look at my hair, do you really think I've never heard of Locks of Love before? What exactly do you hope to gain by hounding and harvesting me? Certainly not my respect or friendship, I can guarantee you that. And not my patronism, either. So start thinking with your head and your heart, not with your [short] hair.
The main reason is actually rather mundane. I've always been averse to getting a haircut. The whole situation is uncomfortable to me, having someone's attention focused exclusively on me for a period of time, that sort of thing. As a child, I would get a haircut fairly regularly simply because that's normal, and that's what my parents decided, and I had little to say over it. But I gradually managed to extend the time between haircuts, so that there would be long periods where I wouldn't get one, and my hair would grow out relatively long (in this case, meaning long enough to cover my face in the front) - this would be around high school days, I guess. Having hair that long was kind of cool, because I loved being able to hide my face behind my hair to avoid people, but it was also kind of liberating to get it cut short after a while. Ultimately, though, the act of getting a haircut just became too much of a bother to me, and somewhere around the time I got my senior picture, I gave up on it completely, and just let my hair grow out unhindered. I haven't taken or allowed a blade to be taken to it since.
So the primary reason for me is convenience. You might say that getting a haircut once a month is a lot easier than washing long hair everyday. Maybe you have a point, but for me, going out and getting a haircut is a lot harder than washing my hair everyday. I'm used to washing my hair and it really doesn't bother me. Going out and getting a haircut, on the other hand, would be traumatizing. That having been said, convenience is not the only reason I continue to have long hair to this day. Though it may have started that way, since growing my hair out, I've become very attached to it, and now there are other reasons for me to keep it.
Having long hair has a certain appeal. I like to challenge people's ideas about things, force them to think in new ways. By being a guy and having long hair, I force people to question their notions of what people can be like. I guess maybe, people who get piercings and visible tattoos, and wear weird fashions and such, might be doing it partly for that same reason. But it's also more than that. I actually like the long hair, for what it is. Part of that is because it connects me to two symbols that I hold respect for - hippies, and elves. Although a lot of the hippies I see in documentaries and rock festivals don't have hair quite as long as mine (especially the guys) - and aren't nearly as naked as I'd thought they would be - the long hair still taps into that whole social movement where the hippies wanted to challenge society's standards about how guys should wear their hair (among other things), and the image of freedom represented by letting your freak flag fly.
In addition to the hippies specifically, guys with longer hair than normal have always been a staple of certain sections of the music scene. The guy with long hair is a rocker. When Bob Seger sings, "most times you can't hear 'em talk, other times you can; the same old cliche, is that a woman or a man?", I know what that's like firsthand. And although I try to take it as a compliment, considering how I feel about girls, it's still pretty embarrassing to be mistaken for one. Even before I went super-long, when I was back in elementary school, I was at the pool with a friend once, and I remember hearing a kid scream out "mommy, that girl doesn't have a top on!" (Obviously, this would be way back at the age before girls started 'developing' significantly...). I'm happy that I can laugh about it now, but it was pretty uncomfortable at the time. But even so, my hair means too much to me to lose it for the sake of other people's expectations.
I mentioned elves above. Whereas hippies don't necessarily have hair as long as mine, especially on the guys, elves frequently have hair this long, and the guys just as often as the girls. I'm fascinated by elves. I feel a certain kinship with them. They are a natural race, living in closer communion with nature, and they are often described as being beautiful, wise, and knowing how to extract simple but profound pleasures from life - for example, in the form of song and dance. Anything that relates me to this race brings me closer to the ideal image of what I would like to be.
There's another reason that I treasure my long hair. A very important reason, that I've avoided thus far. I'll be blunt. There was a girl I [hardly] knew in college, with the longest, most beautiful golden locks, like something out of a fantasy. Her hair was probably a bit longer than mine is now, and a little more wavy, probably because she not infrequently wore it in a braid. She cut it in half or so, later on. There's a lot of troubling emotional nuances to the situation, but having my own hair as it is, partly serves as a connection to what I loved, and partly as a challenge to what I hated. If I cut it now, not only would I lose that connection, but I'd also lose the challenge...
And while we're talking about cutting, I'd like to take a moment to issue my stance on Locks of Love. I have absolutely nothing against it, and I think that what they're doing is great. However, I have been hounded by so many people, telling (not asking) me to donate my hair, that it can't help getting on my nerves. When somebody honestly compliments me on my hair, which happens a lot, I am genuinely pleased. However, when they then proceed to instruct me on getting rid of it for the sake of some charity, my enthusiasm wanes. And that's to say nothing of the people who mention it outright, before ever saying "wow, your hair is long", or "I like your hair", but rather come right up to me and say "you're donating that to Locks of Love, right?", as if it was a statement, and not a question. That really gets on my nerves. Just because it's a good thing, does everybody in the world who grows their hair out *have* to donate? I thought this was a free country, not a fascist dictatorship. Some people just *don't* have their priorities straight, and unfortunately, in my experiences, that reflects badly on Locks of Love. If you want my advice, tell the people not to be so Jehova's Witness about it. I mean, look at my hair, do you really think I've never heard of Locks of Love before? What exactly do you hope to gain by hounding and harvesting me? Certainly not my respect or friendship, I can guarantee you that. And not my patronism, either. So start thinking with your head and your heart, not with your [short] hair.
10 January, 2008
Hippie Ideals
"When in the flow of human events it becomes necessary for the people to cease to recognize the obsolete social patterns which have isolated man from his consciousness and to create with the youthful energies of the world revolutionary communities of harmonius relations to which the two-billion-year-old life process entitles them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind should declare the causes which impell them to this creation. We hold these experiences to be self-evident, that all is equal, that the creation endows us with certain inalienable rights, that among these are: the freedom of body, the pursuit of joy, and the expansion of consciousness, and that to secure these rights, we the citizens of the earth declare our love and compassion for all conflicting hate-carrying men and women of the world.
We declare the identity of flesh and consciousness; all reason and law must respect and protect this holy identity."
- A Prophecy of a Declaration of Independence, Fall 1966
I've never actually considered myself a hippie, despite being sympathetic to their cause and lifestyle ever since discovering them in the course of my fandom of rock from that era (specifically, the late 60's and early 70's). There have even been times when I've felt that I was born too late; that I would have fit in so much better in the [counter-]culture of the 60's. From what I've come to understand, the hippie movement rose to some extent out of the earlier beatnik culture, embracing a more positive outlook on life, and formed a counterculture largely reactionary to the politics of the day, particularly relating to the unpopular Vietnam War. Hippies preached love and peace, and greatly admired their freedom of expression.
Today, the stereotype that prevails is that of the "dirty hippie". Frankly, I think that's an unfortunate stereotype. Just because you have a deeper connection with the earth, or that you let your hair grow long, doesn't mean that you've given up all notions of cleanliness. It's a fact that, at Woodstock, not only were hippies washing themselves in a nearby pool of water - with soap, I might add - but some of them were also shaving - even their armpits! And in spite of all the Rastafarians and Deadheads and generic Gypsies you see these days, it's the groovy people at Woodstock that form the ideal picture of a 'hippie' in my mind.
So what do I get out of hippie idealism? Besides the music, the three main things are peace, love, and freedom.
Peace
Now, I don't necessarily consider myself a pacifist. I believe that there are times when violence is warranted. However, I believe that those times are (or at least should be, in a rational society) rare, and extreme. I believe that a lot of people are way more aggressive, in physical and non-physical ways, than they should be. Anger really pisses me off. It's kind of ironic, but it's true. When people start getting mad, the funny thing is, I'm angrier at the fact that these people (especially if I happen to be one of them) have allowed themselves to get to a point where they feel it necessary to resort to this kind of aggressive behaviour, rather than keeping a cool head and being rational about it, than I am about whatever topic the people have gotten angry about. I hate arguments - I think they're utterly pointless, and serve only to damage the relations between people. You can have rational discussions, and you can agree to disagree, but if you get two people shouting at each other because they each want the other to do or think in their own way, then you've already lost sight of what's important.
People often say I'm a pretty groovy person - in terms of being relaxed and chilled out a lot. Part of that is because I'm pretty timid, and it's not natural for me to express myself and my thoughts and beliefs over other people's. I like to avoid confrontation by letting things be. But if part of that is fear of agression, I'd like to think that part of it is the knowledge of how little aggression usually accomplishes - or the fact that when it accomplishes something, it tends to accomplish the opposite of what I consider to be important in life. Maybe other people put a premium on power and coercion and control, but I'm more interested in mutual understanding and respect. And aggression never accomplishes that.
So chill out, live and let live, and expend your energy in a more positive way. You'll feel a lot better in the long run.
Love
I believe in love. I believe that loving your fellow man does so much more for both you and him than hating him ever could. There's too much hatred in the world. What's all this fighting about, anyway? Can we for once consider our victims' perspectives and stop being so selfish? Love your enemy as you would your friend.
There's another aspect to the hippie's perspective on love - and that's the sexual angle. This one I'm slightly less aligned with. Hippies were all about free love. There was a great sexual liberation in the 60's, and I'm all for that. But the idea of sharing sex with strangers I'm not so keen on. I understand it can be a great way to connect with people, and promote love. But, particularly with all the complications involved, love can inspire some pretty wicked feelings too. Jealousy, resentment, control, possession, obsession. There is a dark side to love, as much as there is a light side. And then you've gotta worry about pregnancy, as well as diseases.
So in this case, I'd say I'm more on board with the psychological component of promoting love. I still don't think people should be too hung up on the physical aspect of love, but I'm not exactly about to promote having sex with everyone you meet.
Freedom
Freedom of mind and body. Freedom of expression. Freedom to be yourself. Freedom from the rules of the Establishment. I'm all about freedom. Dress code? Fuck that, I'll go naked if I feel like it. Only girls wear their hair that long? Fuck that, I'll let my hair grow as long as I want. You can't do or say or think or feel this or that? Fuck you, I am who I am and I'm gonna embrace that, not hide away from it, locking myself up into a rigid shape of a man that's been defined for me by an inanimate entity (the Establishment) that doesn't know a single thing about me, and cares only to further its own cause. If you really gave a damn for me, I'd be more willing to listen to your suggestions, but if that were the case, you'd understand that restricting me from expressing the things that are important to me is tantamount to slavery of the soul. And there's no way I'm gonna stand for that!
(This discussion is continued in the following entry titled "Drugs")
We declare the identity of flesh and consciousness; all reason and law must respect and protect this holy identity."
- A Prophecy of a Declaration of Independence, Fall 1966
I've never actually considered myself a hippie, despite being sympathetic to their cause and lifestyle ever since discovering them in the course of my fandom of rock from that era (specifically, the late 60's and early 70's). There have even been times when I've felt that I was born too late; that I would have fit in so much better in the [counter-]culture of the 60's. From what I've come to understand, the hippie movement rose to some extent out of the earlier beatnik culture, embracing a more positive outlook on life, and formed a counterculture largely reactionary to the politics of the day, particularly relating to the unpopular Vietnam War. Hippies preached love and peace, and greatly admired their freedom of expression.
Today, the stereotype that prevails is that of the "dirty hippie". Frankly, I think that's an unfortunate stereotype. Just because you have a deeper connection with the earth, or that you let your hair grow long, doesn't mean that you've given up all notions of cleanliness. It's a fact that, at Woodstock, not only were hippies washing themselves in a nearby pool of water - with soap, I might add - but some of them were also shaving - even their armpits! And in spite of all the Rastafarians and Deadheads and generic Gypsies you see these days, it's the groovy people at Woodstock that form the ideal picture of a 'hippie' in my mind.
So what do I get out of hippie idealism? Besides the music, the three main things are peace, love, and freedom.
Peace
Now, I don't necessarily consider myself a pacifist. I believe that there are times when violence is warranted. However, I believe that those times are (or at least should be, in a rational society) rare, and extreme. I believe that a lot of people are way more aggressive, in physical and non-physical ways, than they should be. Anger really pisses me off. It's kind of ironic, but it's true. When people start getting mad, the funny thing is, I'm angrier at the fact that these people (especially if I happen to be one of them) have allowed themselves to get to a point where they feel it necessary to resort to this kind of aggressive behaviour, rather than keeping a cool head and being rational about it, than I am about whatever topic the people have gotten angry about. I hate arguments - I think they're utterly pointless, and serve only to damage the relations between people. You can have rational discussions, and you can agree to disagree, but if you get two people shouting at each other because they each want the other to do or think in their own way, then you've already lost sight of what's important.
People often say I'm a pretty groovy person - in terms of being relaxed and chilled out a lot. Part of that is because I'm pretty timid, and it's not natural for me to express myself and my thoughts and beliefs over other people's. I like to avoid confrontation by letting things be. But if part of that is fear of agression, I'd like to think that part of it is the knowledge of how little aggression usually accomplishes - or the fact that when it accomplishes something, it tends to accomplish the opposite of what I consider to be important in life. Maybe other people put a premium on power and coercion and control, but I'm more interested in mutual understanding and respect. And aggression never accomplishes that.
So chill out, live and let live, and expend your energy in a more positive way. You'll feel a lot better in the long run.
Love
I believe in love. I believe that loving your fellow man does so much more for both you and him than hating him ever could. There's too much hatred in the world. What's all this fighting about, anyway? Can we for once consider our victims' perspectives and stop being so selfish? Love your enemy as you would your friend.
There's another aspect to the hippie's perspective on love - and that's the sexual angle. This one I'm slightly less aligned with. Hippies were all about free love. There was a great sexual liberation in the 60's, and I'm all for that. But the idea of sharing sex with strangers I'm not so keen on. I understand it can be a great way to connect with people, and promote love. But, particularly with all the complications involved, love can inspire some pretty wicked feelings too. Jealousy, resentment, control, possession, obsession. There is a dark side to love, as much as there is a light side. And then you've gotta worry about pregnancy, as well as diseases.
So in this case, I'd say I'm more on board with the psychological component of promoting love. I still don't think people should be too hung up on the physical aspect of love, but I'm not exactly about to promote having sex with everyone you meet.
Freedom
Freedom of mind and body. Freedom of expression. Freedom to be yourself. Freedom from the rules of the Establishment. I'm all about freedom. Dress code? Fuck that, I'll go naked if I feel like it. Only girls wear their hair that long? Fuck that, I'll let my hair grow as long as I want. You can't do or say or think or feel this or that? Fuck you, I am who I am and I'm gonna embrace that, not hide away from it, locking myself up into a rigid shape of a man that's been defined for me by an inanimate entity (the Establishment) that doesn't know a single thing about me, and cares only to further its own cause. If you really gave a damn for me, I'd be more willing to listen to your suggestions, but if that were the case, you'd understand that restricting me from expressing the things that are important to me is tantamount to slavery of the soul. And there's no way I'm gonna stand for that!
(This discussion is continued in the following entry titled "Drugs")
22 December, 2007
Dirty Laundry (or Mentioned Unmentionables)
In addition to the other psychological problems I have, I'm a bit of a clean freak. Related to that, I'm also a bit of a germophobe. Particularly lately, I've noticed that I wash my hands incredibly often, and when I do, I often soap up three or four times in one go, and sometimes I still have to tell myself "you're clean already" and force myself to finish and move on. It makes me think that I might have symptoms of an obsessive-compulsive personality, although I wouldn't go so far as to say that it's serious enough to label it a disorder (unlike some of my other problems). Unsurprisingly, I value having clean clothes to wear each day, and to keep it that way, I have to do a lot of laundry. For the longest time, this meant doing laundry once a week, with very little change (although it wasn't necessarily once every 7 days, so it's not like a specific day of the week was always laundry day).
I've always been very private about my laundry. I don't think that's necessarily an unusual feeling to have, I mean most people don't like the idea of other people looking at their unmentionables, right? That's where the phrase "dirty laundry" comes from, right? But even so, I've been more protective of my laundry habits than is really necessary. I don't specifically remember what it was like here at home before going to college. Sorry. But at college it was often a chore.
Let's see, four of the five residence halls (dormitories, if you prefer) I lived in during college had laundry facilities within the building. The fifth had a laundry room in the basement of another building that was just a short walk from the one I lived in. I got into the habit of doing laundry late at night, when there'd be less chances of a crowd. Although machine availability was always a concern (and sometimes an issue), the real fear was just having to do laundry (i.e. put clothes into machine, move clothes between machines, or take clothes out of machine) in front of other people. I obviously made a point to wait to fold my clothes back in the privacy of my own room. Unfortunately, I didn't always have privacy in my own room. In those cases, I really just had to make out the best I could.
Nowadays, I have a different problem with doing laundry. I'm much less concerned about being seen doing laundry as I am about being heard, since I do it in the middle of the night when everyone's asleep. The problem is that the machines are in the basement right next to the room where my brother (the working man) sleeps. And sometimes the washer makes a lot of noise. Just the thought of being such a nuisance, keeping my brother awake at night, when he has to get up in the morning and go to work, while I can sleep all day and then lounge the rest of the day, makes me feel very uncomfortable. It's not like he's ever complained, or that I have any reason to believe that he even hears the machines when he's sleeping, but that doesn't make it any less unnerving.
There's also another issue, which relates to the problem I discussed in my last post. Sometimes I go to the basement and I might hear sounds coming from his room, or there'll be a light under the door, and I'll know or suspect that he's still awake. In those cases, I can't very well do any laundry, because I know he'll know that I am doing laundry, and I fear that he might think about me and make some kind of judgements about me. Not that he would, but that he could. It's that whole idea that I automatically fear that people are criticizing me, and the best way to avoid the anxiety that that thought causes is to erase myself from the minds of others, by sneaking around and trying to convince people that I'm not even there in the first place. That's how I've gotten the nicknames "Phantom" and "Puff of Smoke" in the past. But it's crazy that I'm so insecure that I can't even do laundry in the middle of the freaking night!
So lately, I've been avoiding doing laundry as much as possible, and I've gone to brand new lengths between loads. That's still not more than a couple weeks between, though. I've known people that hardly ever do laundry, like once a month or something, but they have tons of clothes I guess. I only have so much to wear. I've got plenty of shirts, but the rest gets stretched a little thin. I resorted to going out and buying a pack of extra socks at Wal-Mart recently, just to extend my range.
If you don't want to read about my underwear, then I suggest you just skip the rest of this entry. But my feeling is that if I force myself to talk about the things that embarrass me, then maybe I'll be less embarrassed about them in the future. Hiding things away and refusing to talk about them just because they're undesirable is a great way to compound your problems. I believe that. Plus, I'm all about truth, and holding back in the fear of embarrassment is, for me, equivalent to being a hypocrite.
Simply put, I'm way too embarrassed to go out and buy underwear. Although, I've managed to do it once or twice in the past, so I at least have something to work with. But if I only have so many pairs, then I can only go so many days before I *have* to do laundry, right? Well, inspired by an eccentric in my life, I tried "going commando", as they sometimes call it. Unlike that eccentric (and I refer to him as such in a purely complimentary way), I didn't do it for reasons of joy or pleasure or adventure. It was simply a practical solution. I wouldn't necessarily say I prefer it, but honestly, I could go either way.
The biggest issue is that after taking a piss, you have to be very careful about zipping up. I never really understood the whole "getting caught in the zipper" thing because it just didn't seem like it could happen. Until it almost did. Now I'm extra careful.
When it comes to clothing, I've always hated wearing layers. It just never felt good, having layers rubbing against layers over my skin. In elementary school I went through a period where I'd wear sweats exclusively, just because they were comfortable. At the time, I hated the rough feel of putting on jeans (I have since gotten over that, since I rarely wear any kind of pants other than jeans). But I never wore a shirt underneath my sweatshirt. I knew that most kids wore sweatshirts to keep warm on a cold day, and they would take it off at times when they got warm, revealing whatever shirt they had on underneath. But I didn't like the idea of wearing two shirts at once. The only time I can accept it is if I'm camping and it's so freaking cold that that's the only effective way to stay warm.
On a related note, I never caught on to wearing boxers. I tried briefly (pardon the pun), but it just felt like wearing shorts under my pants, and they would constantly bag up and get all out of place and it drove me absolutely insane. I own only a single pair of boxers these days, and I never even wear it. It's silk ("a little too delightful"), and I only bought it to impress my high school girlfriend anyway, and even then, the material didn't have enough substance to avoid taking my shape, if you know what I mean, making them a rather ridiculous garment to wear in sensual situations.
Wooh! So getting back to what I was saying before, the less I wear, the less I have to wash. This is a simple truth. You know, I actually considered just not wearing clothes at all. I'd never have to do laundry. And it's not like I encounter many people in my average day, and I only rarely leave the house. But the bottom line is that I know my dad wants me to become more "well-adjusted" and not more eccentric, in the hopes that I'll eventually make something of my life, so I have a good feeling that's not a boundary that I could get away with pushing. And it just wouldn't be fair for me to push it. I don't want to even imagine what that conversation would be like if I showed up to dinner one evening, naked as a jaybird. I'm not stupid. And the last thing I'd do is willingly throw myself into the jaws of the shark like that.
(disclaimer: I love sharks, it's just an expression)
I've always been very private about my laundry. I don't think that's necessarily an unusual feeling to have, I mean most people don't like the idea of other people looking at their unmentionables, right? That's where the phrase "dirty laundry" comes from, right? But even so, I've been more protective of my laundry habits than is really necessary. I don't specifically remember what it was like here at home before going to college. Sorry. But at college it was often a chore.
Let's see, four of the five residence halls (dormitories, if you prefer) I lived in during college had laundry facilities within the building. The fifth had a laundry room in the basement of another building that was just a short walk from the one I lived in. I got into the habit of doing laundry late at night, when there'd be less chances of a crowd. Although machine availability was always a concern (and sometimes an issue), the real fear was just having to do laundry (i.e. put clothes into machine, move clothes between machines, or take clothes out of machine) in front of other people. I obviously made a point to wait to fold my clothes back in the privacy of my own room. Unfortunately, I didn't always have privacy in my own room. In those cases, I really just had to make out the best I could.
Nowadays, I have a different problem with doing laundry. I'm much less concerned about being seen doing laundry as I am about being heard, since I do it in the middle of the night when everyone's asleep. The problem is that the machines are in the basement right next to the room where my brother (the working man) sleeps. And sometimes the washer makes a lot of noise. Just the thought of being such a nuisance, keeping my brother awake at night, when he has to get up in the morning and go to work, while I can sleep all day and then lounge the rest of the day, makes me feel very uncomfortable. It's not like he's ever complained, or that I have any reason to believe that he even hears the machines when he's sleeping, but that doesn't make it any less unnerving.
There's also another issue, which relates to the problem I discussed in my last post. Sometimes I go to the basement and I might hear sounds coming from his room, or there'll be a light under the door, and I'll know or suspect that he's still awake. In those cases, I can't very well do any laundry, because I know he'll know that I am doing laundry, and I fear that he might think about me and make some kind of judgements about me. Not that he would, but that he could. It's that whole idea that I automatically fear that people are criticizing me, and the best way to avoid the anxiety that that thought causes is to erase myself from the minds of others, by sneaking around and trying to convince people that I'm not even there in the first place. That's how I've gotten the nicknames "Phantom" and "Puff of Smoke" in the past. But it's crazy that I'm so insecure that I can't even do laundry in the middle of the freaking night!
So lately, I've been avoiding doing laundry as much as possible, and I've gone to brand new lengths between loads. That's still not more than a couple weeks between, though. I've known people that hardly ever do laundry, like once a month or something, but they have tons of clothes I guess. I only have so much to wear. I've got plenty of shirts, but the rest gets stretched a little thin. I resorted to going out and buying a pack of extra socks at Wal-Mart recently, just to extend my range.
If you don't want to read about my underwear, then I suggest you just skip the rest of this entry. But my feeling is that if I force myself to talk about the things that embarrass me, then maybe I'll be less embarrassed about them in the future. Hiding things away and refusing to talk about them just because they're undesirable is a great way to compound your problems. I believe that. Plus, I'm all about truth, and holding back in the fear of embarrassment is, for me, equivalent to being a hypocrite.
Simply put, I'm way too embarrassed to go out and buy underwear. Although, I've managed to do it once or twice in the past, so I at least have something to work with. But if I only have so many pairs, then I can only go so many days before I *have* to do laundry, right? Well, inspired by an eccentric in my life, I tried "going commando", as they sometimes call it. Unlike that eccentric (and I refer to him as such in a purely complimentary way), I didn't do it for reasons of joy or pleasure or adventure. It was simply a practical solution. I wouldn't necessarily say I prefer it, but honestly, I could go either way.
The biggest issue is that after taking a piss, you have to be very careful about zipping up. I never really understood the whole "getting caught in the zipper" thing because it just didn't seem like it could happen. Until it almost did. Now I'm extra careful.
When it comes to clothing, I've always hated wearing layers. It just never felt good, having layers rubbing against layers over my skin. In elementary school I went through a period where I'd wear sweats exclusively, just because they were comfortable. At the time, I hated the rough feel of putting on jeans (I have since gotten over that, since I rarely wear any kind of pants other than jeans). But I never wore a shirt underneath my sweatshirt. I knew that most kids wore sweatshirts to keep warm on a cold day, and they would take it off at times when they got warm, revealing whatever shirt they had on underneath. But I didn't like the idea of wearing two shirts at once. The only time I can accept it is if I'm camping and it's so freaking cold that that's the only effective way to stay warm.
On a related note, I never caught on to wearing boxers. I tried briefly (pardon the pun), but it just felt like wearing shorts under my pants, and they would constantly bag up and get all out of place and it drove me absolutely insane. I own only a single pair of boxers these days, and I never even wear it. It's silk ("a little too delightful"), and I only bought it to impress my high school girlfriend anyway, and even then, the material didn't have enough substance to avoid taking my shape, if you know what I mean, making them a rather ridiculous garment to wear in sensual situations.
Wooh! So getting back to what I was saying before, the less I wear, the less I have to wash. This is a simple truth. You know, I actually considered just not wearing clothes at all. I'd never have to do laundry. And it's not like I encounter many people in my average day, and I only rarely leave the house. But the bottom line is that I know my dad wants me to become more "well-adjusted" and not more eccentric, in the hopes that I'll eventually make something of my life, so I have a good feeling that's not a boundary that I could get away with pushing. And it just wouldn't be fair for me to push it. I don't want to even imagine what that conversation would be like if I showed up to dinner one evening, naked as a jaybird. I'm not stupid. And the last thing I'd do is willingly throw myself into the jaws of the shark like that.
(disclaimer: I love sharks, it's just an expression)
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