I found out something awful about myself today (and to think I've been introspective all this time). I'd just finished velcroing a bear-shaped puzzle to the kitchen wall (because, why not?) when I decided that it was time to display the last puzzle I'd built ("Wild Animal Panorama") and also Mod Podged together (as much for the puzzle's preservation as for the smell of Mod Podge [Wet carrots and broccoli; the folks at Bath and Body Works are fools if they've ever been in a craft supply store]).
"Where should I put this puzzle, guys?"
No answer.
I hold it up to a possible location. Michael seems less than pleased.
"It's just kind of a weird place to hang anything," he explains. Dub doesn't look up from the TV, apparently engrossed in a commercial about how patriotic Chevy trucks are.
"Well, what about over here?"
"Maybe. I don't know."
Huh. "Dub, what do you think? Over your desk, or where should I put it?"
Dub hesitates before letting his eyes leave the screen, probably pulled in by the stellar performance of the Swiffer Wet Jet. "Um... over my desk could work, I guess... or maybe in our room somewhere."
"Well, I don't want to put if over your desk if you don't want it there, but if I put it in our room I feel like no one's ever going to see..." Suddenly it hits me. "Oh my gosh, I'm a weird puzzle person, aren't I?"
Michael gives me a look like he just found out his girlfriend wasn't pregnant. Dub lets out a nervous laugh. I'm feeling dizzy, and my roommates' voices sound muffled and far away. "Well... not exactly," someone says, I'm not sure who. The Bears/Saints game comes back on but Dub isn't watching. Instead he's saying something about how it's not weird to build puzzles at all, so long as you put them back in the box when you're done. Michael mentions that his grandparents are always building puzzles.
Even in that moment, I know I want a puzzle on every wall, as if I were a 12-year-old girl from 1995 and puzzles were pictures of Jonathan Taylor Thomas. As if I were a 42-year-old mouth breather living in my ailing mother's musty basement and puzzles were pictures of Jonathan Taylor Thomas, and Ritz crackers were decent social skills and acceptable hygiene (because I also wanted some Ritz crackers just then, but I didn't have any). I don't even think building puzzles is all that fun; I just like having them when they are done. It's true. I am a weird puzzle person.
Dub and Michael are still talking, their muffled voices assuring me that it's okay to make mistakes, that everyone gets a little excessive from time to time. "It's not you, it's me," they might as well be saying. I close my eyes, figuring my only hope is to wake up into a world of black and white and find out that it was all just a dream. "And you were there, and you were there, and you were there..." but to no avail—my life really has come to this, and I can tell from the way they're looking at me that my ruby slippers are only making things worse.
12 comments:
Check your telescope.
I really like to make puzzles. I don't think I would ever post a puzzle on a wall... but I must admit that my mom did it once. And I was kind of proud in attributing to the construction process.
Uh yeah, actually this story was about my mom.
Life is a puzzle and I can't find the damn corners.
Check your hoodie.
What kind of makeover?
I'm sorry, Your Name Backwards, but breaking the rules is against the rules.
Also, I'm excited about the shirt.
this is funny.
You're a good writer.
I heart you. Give me a call sometime. Why don't you call? Why don't you want to see your son?
I never understood your fixation with puzzles. But now I do. Because I HATE doing them, and also love seeing them finished... all shiny and matching up with the edges perfect and no holes. It's the closest thing to perfection I think we can achieve in this chaotic life. Or at least, the closest thing that doesn't have a calorie count.
You're right. Finishing a puzzle is the closest I've ever been to dying happy. And while I hadn't heard the "no calories" thing, they certainly are high in fiber.
The caloric energy it takes digest a puzzle is greater than the caloric energy contained in the puzzle itself. It's a little like celery that way (which, incidently, is also high in fiber).
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