My Glasses
"Take your glasses off."
"Okay."
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"For Pete's sake! Three!"
"Why do you wear glasses then?"
"I AM NEAR-SIGHTED!"
"Jeez, don't yell!"
"Sorry."
This is the typical conversation I face everyday.
Every. Single. Time. I. Take. My. Glasses. Off. People. Hold. Up. Their. Fingers.
It gets annoying!
EVERY SINGLE DAY!! I have to face people asking me to take my glasses off (sometimes they just take them off without asking me) and then I have to answer their dumb questions!
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
Annoying!!
The Question
“So like. How do you write your male characters?”
I stop stirring the sugar into my tea and glance up, wordlessly raising a brow.
“I mean you know, we traded stories for editing and I totally would have thought you were a guy, the way you write them. So. How do you write your male characters?”
I snort at her. “I sit back with a six pack and watch football until I feel manly.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “No, Val. I’m serious. How?”
“Sometimes I throw in a cigar.”
“Val!”
“I go get a playboy magazine…”
“VALERIE!”
I smirk. “Alright. Fine, fine. Bear with me for a moment and I’ll ‘explain’ it to you.”
She sits back in her seat, looking amusingly petulant. I read over her work, sappy stuff worthy of old Nicky Sparks himself. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but considering the fact that she spends so much time perfecting the voice of her pretty southern belles, it’s no wonder she’s struggling.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t make the question any less stupid.
“Do you have any idea how many galaxies are in the universe?”
“…No.”
“Nobody knows for sure but it’s predicted at something absurd, like, one hundred billion.”
“…Okay. So?”
“So imagine with me, if you will, the number of planets that exist out there with different types of creatures. Different forms of life. The billions…no, the trillions of species, not even humanoid, with other forms of communication. The sort of thing you take right out of star trek.”
“Is there a reason for the nerding out? You’re dodging my question.” She crosses her legs and looks positively huffy.
“On the contrary I’m right on it. Let’s try smaller. How many species are predicted to roam this single planet?”
Annoyance crosses her face again. “I don’t know. Wow me.”
“About nine million. There are nine million insects, mammals, amphibians, reptiles…”
“Okay National Geographic, enough already!”
I’m seriously starting to think she’s going to throw her chai at me.
“The point is, there are endless forms of life, both known and unknown, in numbers that would probably blow your mind as bad as one of Lovecraft’s old gods. Sentient, non-sentient, and somewhere in between.”
“Right. Okay. And the point of all of this was?”
I shrug and stir another spoon of sugar into my tea.
“My point is that it boggles you that I can relate to someone based on whether or not they have a penis."
How are you feeling ?
When most people ask this question they do not care about you or your health its just a formality, a kindness or fragment of small talk perhaps. It's passing like the weather. When you are saddled with the tyranny of chronic illness and at times fight off Death with shear force of habit the people around you asking "how are you feeling" just want a one word answer. "Good" or "Fine". Those words are safe and will do nicely but if you explain to them how you are truly feeling they become blank, cold and distant. It's not their fault they have no reference point to the pain or frustration or talks with doctors who use words like "fatal illness" or "disability" but God Damn if you do ask "how are you feeling" be prepared to hear an honest answer. Otherwise just keep the small talk to yourself.
The Walking Question
Why do you walk funny?
To be fair, that's when I'm unlucky - when people don't know how else to phrase their question. Other times it goes along the lines of:
What's wrong with your legs?
Did you get into an accident involving your legs?
Etc.
I understand that as humans we are a race of curious beings. However, there are better ways to phrase questions involving physical "disabilities!" Yes, it IS a physical disability - but I DON'T consider myself "disabled."
I hate answering this question simply because I feel it raises too many other questions. I feel like no matter how I explain the answer, it will be thrown out of proportions and taken in far more extreme measure than it is in reality.
Often times, I face this question a lot, considering people ARE curious as to why I walk a bit differently. Of course, I'm willing to answer, and happy to do so, even though I hate the question itself. I hate trying to find an answer so that the inquirer doesn't jump to the wrong conclusions about me. And the wondering that is left afterwards - how has their perspective of me changed, now that they know the truth?
“Why’d you do that?”
I simply hate being asked every time I do something why I did it. I have rights, and I should be able to have the freedom to do something without being questioned why I did it. I don't go questioning everything you do, so don't do it to me. Can I not simply do something just because ? And if I did do it for a certain reason, why do I have to make it clear to you? If you don't know why I did it, then maybe it was because I just didn't want you to know, or you're not involved in it. Just back off.
