But the insignificant does bog me down from time to time. When a person sitting in front of me has a white hair or a tag sticking out, I feel like that person put it there on purpose. To taunt me. To see how long I’ll be able to stare at it without my left eye twitching or before I have to sit on my hands to physically prevent myself from doing anything. Even though I may be crazy, my scope of crazy will not extend to breaking all social rules and touching a stranger. Plus, that would be gross. Who knows where that person has been?
On an unrelated note, I have this inexplicable rage against those stupid floppy bows girls wear in their hair. Not little girls. I think bows on little girls are adorable. I’m talking about girls on campus who parade around under those bows that look like they’re capable of taking flight, propeller-style, usually while wearing the entire stock of American Apparel at once. I understand that it’s a fashion choice. I get it. I went back to wearing six-inch heels a week after I had knee surgery. But for some reason, whenever I see a girl wearing one of those giant ass bows, I want to calmly walk over to her, rip it off of her head, and stomp it into a pulp on the ground. Probably while keeping a straight face the entire time. Yes, I know I am a horrible person, but at least I have never acted upon it. Yet.
I was recently accepted into a study abroad program. Among the multitude of paperwork I had to return was a housing form, in which I was to describe in detail my sleeping habits, dietary restrictions, and any allergies for my future roommate. All of these questions were manageable. I like questions that have clear answers. That way, I know exactly what is required of me and can deliver.
Then things took a turn for the worse. At the end of the form, there was quite a bit of empty space that I was prompted to fill with my answer to the question “How would you describe yourself?”
Shit.
My first reaction was one of panic. I have absolutely no idea how to answer such an open-ended question. What did it even mean? Physically? Mentally? Emotionally? Philosophically? I don’t think I can answer any of those questions properly in the allotted space while still sounding sane/worthy of attending the program.
Overwhelmed with the possibilities before me, I turned to rebellion. I don’t know, yellow form, how would you describe yourself? Yellow? A form? A smug bastard? I hate you.
So I put it off for a while. I filled out every question on every form except for that one. I put it off until the deadline approached. The inevitable had finally come. I had to answer the damn question, because if I didn’t, I would have to turn in my form late, and if there’s anything I hate more than vaguely worded questions (and people who eat noisily), it’s being late.
As I started planning out what to write, another slew of questions hit me. What sort of tone do I want my answer to convey? Do I want to sound intelligent? I suppose sounding smart would be nice, but I didn’t want to alienate my future roommate. Did I want to sound friendly? Well, of course, but being friendly also runs the risk of being hokey, like one of those people who uses the wink wink nudge nudge motion unironically in normal conversation. Did I want to be funny? Yes, but I am aware that I have an odd sense of humor. I don’t know how my future roommate would respond to a girl that writes that she probably wouldn’t kill her in her sleep.
In the end, in addition to the reassurance that I am really easy to get along with and am a good listener, I said something about how I’m the type of person who seems quiet at first, but once I am comfortable, my true personality emerges. It wasn’t technically a lie, and my future roommate is just going to have to find out exactly what that personality is later on. Surprise!
0 comments:
Post a Comment