WHY IS THAT THING TOUCHING ME?

My computer is fixed. I have been forbidden to remove any programs from my computer and the IT department’s faith in me has plummeted. It took five years for me to get IT cred and it is gone in a flash. However, I now have office 2003 instead of 2000 so it actually worked out better for me in the long run and all aspects of my computer appear to be running faster. Getting it fixed meant that I was able to submit my report to the State nice and early so if something is wrong they can let me know and I can fix it. That’s how I roll with deadlines. Like Sr. year when I was done with all my work because I wanted to relax and chill with everyone but they were still working like mad women popping caffeine pills and chugging coffee. They were really funny to me at the time.

My Mommy is on her way. She sent e an email at about 9:30 saying she was going to leave within the hour and called at about 12:45 to say she was leaving. My family has never been really good at punctuality. At least she left late enough to miss the evening rush when she gets into town. It just means I’ll have a late dinner when she gets in. Since I don’t have to wake up in the morning it really doesn’t matter. I’m sure we’ll be up late talking about nothing until she suddenly falls asleep without warning.

Yesterday I finished “A Confederacy of Dunces” which was a fantastic read that I highly recommend to anyone who likes stuff and or things. Today I began reading “Nausea”. I really like it a lot and wanted to talk a little bit about a passage.

Objects should not touch because they are not alive. You use them, put them back in place, you live among them: they are useful, nothing more. But they touch me, it is unbearable.

I don’t consider myself to be an existentialist, I am too open to the existence of the mystical, yet this passage truly resonated with me. Not really in the way I believe Sartre intended it to (or the way it meshes with the rest of the novel), but it resonated in all the same. I HATE being touched by things. I don’t mind touching things at all. I am very interested in the tactile qualities of the world and different sensations I can get from various objects. Yet, there is nothing worse than the unexpected touch of something. It doesn’t matter much what the something is. It doesn’t have to be a nasty or uncomfortable something. Simply because I has made me aware of its being without me asking it to is offensive.

I’m not a germaphobe. I generally don’t get squeamish about things. Yet, I generally expect them to come into my world when I want them to, because they are things and have no free will of their own. I love plants, but if a plant unexpectedly touched me I would recoil simply from the unexpected shock. I am sure the plant intended no harm, but because it took on a trait of something sentient I would have a problem with it. Nothing I had ever come across articulated that sentiment more than that passage. It made me think.

I don’t like to have to think too much about my surroundings. That isn’t to say I don’t enjoy a philosophical discussion, it is simply to say that everything has a time and a place. Generally I like to simply enjoy life and to experience it in the way in which I choose. I guess that is why the unexpected touch of something bothers me. It isn’t something I chose to have in my purview. It just happened to me. I don’t think things just happen to you in general, I think we have a say in everything that happens in our lives. The random touch of something unexpected changes all that. And unbearable is the only way to describe it. I don’t get this same feeling when a person bumps into me, which is strange. There is something a lot creepier than being touched by a non-sentient object than a person who simply made an error in depth perception. I am sure that many people will disagree with me about that. I love a book that makes me realize things about myself that I never really took the time to examine before. That’s what life is really all about.

All the songs were guessed yesterday so it’s time for a new batch.

1. London calling to the faraway towns/ Now war is declared/ And battle come down. London Calling, The Clash. Identified by Johnny Yen

2. I’m waiting for the night to fall/ I know that it will save us all. Waiting For The Night, Depeche Mode. Identified by Janna

3. Won’t you/ Come see about me/ I’ll be alone/ Dancing/ You know it baby. Don't You Forget About Me, Simple Minds. Identified by Monica and Johnny Yen

4. Once upon a time/ A team of hungry birds came down on a dead body/ It was a dead deer. The Vultures Ate My Dead Ass Up, Wesley Willis. Identified by Janna

5. She’s not right/ I want something/ I want something tonight. She's Not Right, The Stooges. Identified by Johnny Yen