Day 245: I’d Rather Keep Masking My Emotions [Friday Thoughts W/ TeeCoZee]
Good Moleman. Who the devil are you? I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure you’re a jerk. It’s Friday, May 21st, Twenty-Two One. The weather in Astoria is 75˚& Pantone 13-4304 and somewhere, somebody is having a muffin. English, blueberry, stud, it doesn’t matter what kind of muffin it is, it’s most likely delicious. They wonder why they don’t consider muffins more often. Maybe they’ll do it again tomorrow. And the day after that. And then quickly, they’ll get sick of it and never consider it for a few months. Then the cycle begins anew. And me? I tend to go 6 or more months in between my muffin kicks. And I feel like it’s the stumps fault. If there were no muffin stumps, there’d be no regret in the muffining process. They’re dry, less flavorful and just as bad for you. If only there was a way to just make nothing but the tops. But Seinfeld has already proven it impossible. On that note, I have other things on my mind…
– If Rachel didn’t want me to write about her, she wouldn’t talk to me about trivial shit while I’m trying to write about nothing. She does this to herself. Today’s subject is Law & Order SVU, as it is most days. Last night’s new episode brought back a character that went to a juvenile facility at the age of 10. They said that he was released after 6 years for being on good behavior. He is now 18. She may not be a mathamagician, but that doesn’t add up. I suggested that they’re stuck in a time warp, or maybe it’s all a lie, but she wasn’t hearing it. Maybe he was on trial for a long time. Or maybe it takes place in the future and they’ll subtly add a flying car in the background. Maybe it said at some point, “two years later” and Rachel didn’t see it because she can’t read. Or maybe, just maybe, the writers have been keeping this [read: spinoff] show alive for 502 episodes and they’re totally allowed to make a mistake. But no, the problem remains, she will always be angry about this episode. I just find it weird that she willingly binge watches a show about children being raped and gets really bothered about continuity. But what do I know?
– The mask mandate is slowly coming to an unceremonious end and frankly, I’m not really happy about it. While it’s true that the removal of this safety net will make us more vulnerable to Covid and all it’s new variants, I’m much more worried about the social implications. For the past year, I’ve been able to be silently annoyed with people and get away with it. I could make whatever facial expression I damn well chose and nobody would be privy to it. While brows and rolling eyes are a dead giveaway, mouthing curse words are not. We really took it for granted. For so long, we were able to vent through hidden body language and soon that freedom will be gone. I might just keep wearing a mask for that benefit alone.
Also, it’s just really fucking weird to see a stranger’s full face again. It feels almost voyeuristic. Like I’m seeing something that I shouldn’t. I wonder if it’s someday going to be fetishized. Soon, we’re going to have porn that is nothing but people removing their masks and strutting their lips around. In fact, that’s probably already a thing. If I wasn’t sitting in front of an open window, I would totally go to a porno site and look for mask removal videos. But alas, my neighbors are watching. And honestly, that’s probably what they want me to do. I refuse to give in.
– When we moved into the new apartment 4 months ago, Willy only brought a few toys with him. Since then, the collection has grown and grown. Now, it’s an upwards to 20 and it’s getting out of hand. He spends most of his days sprawled out of the floor, surrounded by toys, overwhelmed by the options. It’s really done a number on his attention span. He can’t even focus on watching wrestling with me anymore. He just has too many things to do. And then last night, when I went to go throw away my bedtime apple, something happened. I was walking towards the trash can, just minding my own business, and I stepped on a toy burrito. Annoyed, I said out loud, “Damnit, Willy, pick up your toys!”
Ladies and gentlemen, it finally happened.
I’m officially a Dad.
– Try this trick over the weekend: Figure out what you’re going to get me for Father’s Day. It’s just around the corner, you know. Spoiler alert: I want nothing. But I expect something.
Have a fatherly weekend, everyone!