Let's Get Real: Why "No one understands me!" is the stupidest thing I've ever said.

"Aw, Deleva, don't be so hard on yourself! I've said it too!"

If you thought some variation of the above, then my trap has been sprung. Because you see, I have bad news.

It's the stupidest thing you've ever said, too.

No judgement meant with that. Everyone's said it, and it's also the stupidest thing they've ever said. It's a stupid fucking thing to say.

Of course no one understands you. No matter how close you are to the people in your life they will never fully understand you. Your perspective is shaped by a zillion trillion bazillion things that are unique to you. Your mind is an ocean and every experience, thought, hurt, triumph, degradation, compliment, and happy moment are drops in it. Remove one drop, just one, and it won't be the same ocean. It won't be you.

No one else has that same configuration of droplets. That's individual. Two people can go through the exact same experience, timed down to the second and it still won't really be the same experience, because your perception of it is colored by a trillion things that came before it. And those trillion things are different than the other person's trillion things. Sure, there'll be some overlap. But there will be differences too.

So no one can understand you. No one can understand me. It's not because you're deep or I'm complicated. It's just because we're individuals. And that's okay.

I revel in the idea that no one can understand me fully. There are some things that should just be mine, and mine alone. You don't need them, any more than I need yours. Sometimes I live in that solitude. And please note my wording: solitude, not loneliness. There is a difference.

I think when people crave understanding what they really seek is acceptance. I don't need to be understood. Given my above opinion there's always that voice in my head when someone says, "I understand completely!" that replies, "No you don't." But what I think they're really trying to convey is acceptance.

What I really want, what I really need, is to be accepted. I don't need you to understand everything I do. Sometimes I don't make sense, even to myself. I go to extremes. I do stupid shit that I know better than to do. I stay up too late and then get up too early. I eat cheesecake. I sometimes drink more than I should. I am embarrassingly bad at math. I forget to take my iron pills. I forget to call.

I sometimes even do good things that you might not understand. I am friends with people that maybe I shouldn't be. I forgive easily and quickly even the most hurtful wrongs. I laugh at weird things inside my head that make me look and sound crazy and do not translate to words with even half the humor I thought they would. I apologize to people for perceived wrongs, not because I think they're mad or that there will be consequences if I don't, but because I hold myself to this weird code where I will apologize if I think I've done something to wrong you even if you don't see it that way.

I do not need you to understand this. I don't expect you to understand it.

What I want is for you to say, "Okay. I don't get it. But that's okay" and just leave it there. Maybe you like it; maybe you don't. Maybe it makes you laugh; maybe it drives you up a fucking wall. But if you can accept it, we can be friends.

And what a mammoth effort it can be to set aside our own egos and not try to superimpose ourselves and those billion trillion gazillion experiences over the lives of others! But how freeing when we finally learn to do it, when we stop struggling to comprehend and just allow ourselves to be for a while and better yet, when we allow the others in our lives to just be in our presence.

It's a glorious thing, like seeing the birth of a new foal, or witnessing the actual moment that a rainbow forms, or watching a single leaf fall from a tree.

That is true friendship. That is true companionship and comradery. That freedom is the greatest thing we can give one another and it is rare, my friends.

And that is what I seek. No more. No less.

New Coffee Machine at Work- Day One

I came in to work... and there it was. The new coffee machine at work. An automated, hopper-topped machine of bliss, colorful and inviting, just sitting there, waiting for my cup.

I couldn't believe it. It was like a mirage. I tentatively reached out a reverent hand, waiting for my caffeinated Burning Bush to evaporate. But no. It was real.

It was real.

I couldn't wait to try it out! More later...

Why don't I just surf the internet? THIS IS WHY.

Tonight my roommate sent me a link for what appears to be an unusual, but clever, way to clean glasses. It seemed innocent at first, but I found myself intrigued by Amazon's other links to "unique" home items. Two of these come from Uncommon Goods, a name which I suppose should have tipped me off but is, I must say, a woeful understatement.

This is more than a trip down the rabbit hole. This is what would happen if you fell down the rabbit hole with Martha Stewart and it terminated in the House on the Rock.

1. The Busy Bee Wall Clock

At first glance, this seems whimsical and sweet. However when I clicked on the link my eyes were assaulted with the sheer... bee-ish, yellow-ish, how-the-fuck-am-I-supposed-to-tell-what-time-it-is-with this-bullshit-ness of it. Seriously, I get it. There are markers for where some of the hours are, but one is left with absolutely zero desire to have this abortion of home decor in your eyeholes long enough to figure it out. Damn it, usually when I'm looking at the clock it's because my inner (if imprecise) clock has told me I'm late and I want to know what time it is quickly. I don't want to search for it like a mouse trying to find the cheese in the maze. After about ten seconds, fuck it, it's bee o'clock. ALWAYS.

On the bright side, while I was searching for something that my eyeballs could use to commit ritual seppuku, I located...

2. The Wenger 16999 Swiss Army Knife Giant

HOLY FUCKING SHIT. Do you need to file your nails? Need to find out how the tread in your tires is doing? Do you need something to fling at Goliath's head? Need a swiss army knife that's fucking bigger than Switzerland? This thing has as many potential jokes as it does tools, and it's hard to pinpoint just a couple to spotlight. However, a couple of hilarious bits from the description did catch my eye. For one thing, it has a key ring. This allows the knife to double as a lock pick, because all you have to do is stick the key in the lock, let go, and let the sheer weight of the Wenger 16999 Swiss Army Giant tear your door a new asshole. Because fuck your doorknob. Who needs it?

Secondly, it boasts, "87 implements for almost any situation." Well, naturally, I mean- wait. What? Almost? Almost? This bitch should be able to change the lightbulbs, mine for gold, fuck a supermodel and put a polish on the script for the Avatar sequel. There should be no almost. 

At least so I thought, until I saw this one thing that the Wenger couldn't do.... It couldn't make these... 

3. The Pizza Cone Kit

The other day, as I was eating some delicious Round Table pizza, I thought to myself, "Man alive, I sure do love me some pizza. I just wish it were more... ergonomic." Then I discovered the Pizza Cone! Brilliant! I mean, sure, I have to change my shirt three times because of the pizza-slop dripping out of the cone after the first bite, until I get sick of the cheese burns on my chest and simply slurp 95% of it in about 10 seconds like a scorching-hot greaseshake with olives. They boast, "Easy to grab," but when it comes to "easy to eat" or even "reasonable difficulty to reward ratio", the menu is blank. 

And apropos of nothing, their food stylist should be fired: those olives look like they're mired in Elmer's glue. 

And the preceding is what happens when I start looking at Amazon. And you wonder why I don't just surf the internet more...