A lot of Maybes

I’m not sure I really know what OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) exactly includes. My basic knowledge of OCD comes from two things: the Jack Nicholson movie, As Good as it Gets, and an episode of MTV’s True Life called I have OCD. In the movie, Nicholson’s character washes his hands a bunch and he’s really angry. I don’t think the anger part has anything to do with OCD, so I guess it’s just obsessive hand washing. *One time, I met some friends for happy hour after an SAT class that I taught and I had dry eraser soot all over my hands. I washed my hands about five times in the bathroom to get it out from under my nails, and this drunk guy was apparently standing behind me for the entire time and eventually said, “Ready for surgery, doctor?” Top 10 funniest things someone has ever said to me in a bathroom. On True Life, the people had all sorts of weird rituals, as they call them. One guy laid out 30 pieces of toilet paper before he went number two. That just sounds smart to me. Get everything in order before you take care of business, especially if you plan on making a big mess like he was fixing to do. He also coughed a bunch. Maybe coughing is part of OCD. Also, there was a girl who tapped her food 3 times before she crammed it into her mouth. She was a woman of girth so maybe it was good that she did that. I’ve heard that the slower one eats, the less one will eat. If one eats fast, the body doesn’t process that it’s full until it’s too late. Maybe she should start tapping her food a hundred times.

My point of bringing this all up is that when I go to the gym, I always make sure to arrange the free weights in my area before I walk away – not just my weights, but what others before me left disorganized. Is this OCD? No, I know it’s not. I think people with OCD get anxiety when their rituals aren’t performed or are interrupted. I don’t feel anxious, but I do feel annoyed that I do it. I mentioned in a previous post that I get annoyed when people run the wrong way on the track. Well, the weight disarray thing is worse to me. I guess some people weren’t properly educated on gym etiquette. Maybe they’re just a-holes. Who knows?

I propose that gyms start color coding weights, like the 45 lb plates are red; the 35 lb plates are blue, etc. Maybe these people’s childhood instincts to put colors with other like colors will be tapped. Also, maybe the colors will create shame spirals in these people. The red colored weight will make then think of a baboon’s ass, which is also red. “I’m a red baboon’s ass for not putting this back.” Seriously, most people are stupid. I am, clearly, no rocket scientist. No, no, please, I’m not. But, most people in this world are stupid and inconsiderate. Maybe there should be more color coding for the stupid, I mean truly stupid, people. I imagine these people go to the grocery store and just buy things because they know it’s the right color. “I don’t drink the red canned cola; I drink the black canned cola.” Or, they know how to get home because their house is the light brown one, not the yellow one.

This color coding system is why we can drive without the constant fear of getting into a wreck. Someone made the wise decision back in the day to just have colors to tell us when to stop or go in the car. If stop signs where white and with black letters, I bet car wrecks would increase 3 fold.

Back to the point, I’m not a cynical person and I don’t suffer from OCD. I just want the weights to be put back in the right spot. I mean, come on, they’re different sizes!

That’s how I know where to put them.

Death Date: August 13, 2054

I have a lifetime subscription to Rolling Stone magazine. That’s right, lifetime. According to my online account,  Rolling Stone has predicted my death date to be August 13, 2054. It is a lifetime subscription and it ends, like the hourglass of my life. A man from Rolling Stone who smells like Cheech Marin will appear at my door to end my subscription. I was born in August of 1980, so that means I’m going to die when I’m 73. It’s kind of a sad realization but Rolling Stone knows all.

However, this is all beside the point. How do I even have a lifetime subscription? My mom got a subscription for me every year in high school, so maybe after 4 years of subscriptions, they decided to show their loyalty to me! No, despite what I would like to believe, they are a faceless, soulless entity like any other corporation. They just want me to order Viagra and fake diamond, skull encrusted belt buckles from the ads in the back of the magazine.

I talked to my dad about my lifetime subscription once, and he told me that I’d grow out of Rolling Stone soon enough and wouldn’t want it anymore. I thought, No way man! I’m gonna keep on a-rocking! And, actually, I still read every issue I get, though it might start fading as I get older. Really, though, I’d read any magazine in the world as long as it was placed on my bed stand. I read Us Weekly whenever we get one (despite the name, it comes whenever it comes); it should be called Us Once-in-a-While. I will admit that I enjoy reading the Who Wore it Best section, especially when they compare two people who have no business being compared; I saw Heidi Klum vs. Serena Williams. Beauty and Beast, homey.

I do feel like many of the things I liked when I was younger are completely lost on me now. I used to religiously watch The Real World, and now I hate it. I watched the MTV Movie Awards last night and the only part I liked was when Reese Witherspoon chastised all of the celebrities with sex tapes and nude cell phone pictures for not being embarrassed. I’m getting old, people. Soon I will watch the Weather Channel… more so. I’ll tape (because I won’t know how to DVR) episodes of Murder, She wrote. I will watch JAG.

Well, on the bright side, I learned that my mom actually bought the lifetime subscription for me for $50 when I left for college. So, if I really think about it, my mom is buying something for me every month! Ya! I feel young again; my mommy is buying stuff for me still!