I remember when I had an epiphany that I would ultimately forget again. It was during one of my first jobs in an office as a collage student. That job was where I had gotten a taste of the adult working world. There was a creepy mathematics dude who used to always stop by my desk; especially after finding out that I was going to take a semi break from school and travel the world for a while. His wife was Asian and he had mentioned that she belonged to some welcoming committee — whatever the f that meant. Anyway, I remember sweating frivolously one time when he stopped by my desk to give me a book on languages. I had no idea why I was sweating uncontrollably because I hardly ever sweat, and I also had zero interest in him. I found it hilarious while it was happening, and it made me sweat even more. It’s like laughing uncontrollably when you watch your car sink down a body of water. I heard that it did happen to someone.
Anyway, back to the epiphany… but before that, I must mention that those were good days. I felt so appreciated in that office; although as an undergraduate student slave, I was doing super low level jobs like filing their crap together while they entertained their minds with cool stuff. My cube didn’t have any windows nearby so I didn’t get to see the light of day. It was ok ’cause the job was only like 2-4 hrs a day anyway. There was a graduate student on the opposite side of my cube who wore a beanie cap. He had a little son, and he listened to “Hey Ya” by OutKast on his headphones really loud. That song was going to be the theme of that summer for me.
I loved that time. Although the job was boring, I loved the whole set up. In the drawer of my cube there was a starfruit lotion. I loved the thought of a succulent and shapely starfruit. I also really loved repeating the word gabana during that time, and I really liked saying banana too. So I mashed it together and it was a banana gabana starfruit type of segment of my life.
One enjoyable lazy hot day, I kicked a little rock on the sidewalk as I walked back to my dorm. I was surprised at how good my aim was; considering that I have horrible aim in general. The rock kept getting kicked perfectly. I felt like an Olympic football player. I realized that when I kicked the rock without intention, it got kicked perfectly. But when I kicked it with too much expectations in mind, I got nervous and missed. That was the epiphany: Just don’t care too much!
One moment I was kicking a rock on the campus sidewalk– month later I was halfway around the world carried in the arms of a dude while getting myself into a whirlwind chain of language-less events. He was a French-Spaniard traveling the world too, and body language was the only language we spoke. It was way more fun than kicking rocks. Mmm that creamy skin and that spankable a$$. I know that guys usually objectify women, but I absolutely love it when I objectify men. I was going to be obsessed with his pretty face for many years after that, but a toothless weirdo with the ability to shatter souls could have done just as fine, too. And probably more.
Fifteen years later he wants to give up everything to see me again, says he’s missed me all fifteen years. It was all that I had ever wanted to hear when I cared. Fifteen years later, I don’t feel the same. Not even re-listening to “Hey Ya” is doing it.
I guess it was like kicking rocks. Too much expectations, unintended consequences. No need to regret anything though, it was a great time in my life.