Palindromes have ruined my life.

I was at my work party a couple nights back and was having a conversation with a friend; I may have been a couple drinks deep when I told her a little known secret. She found it to be very weird and her immediate response was “you need to write a blog post about this”. So, to make my friend happy (yes, I am a people pleaser), here it is.

My friend later forwarded me a facebook post that her friend posted the following day.

“Does it bother anyone else that the word "symmetry" isn't a palindrome? What a waste of an opportunity."

I had a good chuckle. Anyway, back to the story… My brother is three years older than I am; when I was about six years old, he came home from school and told me he learned about palindromes.

Mom

Dad

Noon

Pop

The list goes on… but my all-time favourite (yes, one that I learned that day and still continues to be my favourite to this day) is racecar. I’m not sure why. Probably because my mind was completely blown. I may or may not have had to write it down to verify the fact. C’mon, I was six, give me a break!

Since that day, I’ve loved palindromes. There was even a time where I knew I loved them, but couldn’t remember what they were called.

It’s one thing for a six year old to love something like palindromes. It’s another thing to have palindromes completely take over a six year olds’ life. It another thing altogether to have that same control still be present in a 33 year old body.

Once I learned what palindromes were, I started doing something; something that can really only be classified as OCD. You see, my mom worked mornings and I was in charge of setting an alarm, answering the phone when she called and getting us ready for school (yes, I’m the younger sibling). But for some reason, this new found responsibility manifested in an obscure way.

I still do it to this day and I don’t know why. I started trying to convince myself that I needed to stop this behaviour, so when I passed the palindrome on my alarm clock, I’d stop. Yes, I used to go all the way around just to get the ‘perfect’ setting. But it always ended badly. I wouldn’t sleep well, and once I fell asleep due to pure exhaustion, I would oversleep and I’d be late. It had nothing to do with the fact that I: stayed up too late, drank too much, ate right before bed, was stressed out or the hundred other reasons why I didn’t sleep well.

No, clearly it’s because I didn’t set my alarm clock to a palindrome. I know it’s irrational, so I’ve tried to steer away from it; tried to regain control of my life. After all, two out of three of my current alarms are not set in palindromes. But I realized at my work party, that it still affects my life.

I bought a 50/50 ticket; when the draw was happening, I scanned my tickets to see if I had a palindrome.

I’m willing to look past whether or not it’s a “true palindrome”. I will accept if the last 3 or 4 digits (the ones that count) are a palindrome. Turns out, I had one and was pretty convinced I’d win the 50/50 because of it.

I didn’t win. Because I never win 50/50 tickets. But…

The winning ticket was a palindrome!!!!

Fuck! So, my irrational rationalization is now justified. I’m pretty much doomed.

Getting old

I woke up the other day and suddenly realized that I’ll be 34 in a few months. Thirty-fricken-four. I don’t feel that grown up. I have a blog, for fuck sakes!

 

So I may have started having a “holy crap, I’m in my mid-30’s” crisis. I quickly decided that being where I am in life is an okay place to be. It was okay last week, what’s the difference now?

 

But then, strange things started happening. Things that can only mean that I am in fact getting old.

 

First, I got onto a pretty full bus the other day; since I was only going a few stops, I pulled up the nearest piece of pole and got comfy. Well, as comfy as you can be standing on a bus full of people. Then, it happened…

Girl: Would you like to sit down?

ThatWhiteGirl: Um, no thanks, I’m good.

Girl: Are you sure?!

TWG: Totally.

Only old people get offered seats on the bus. And sometimes not even.

 

Next, I took a friend to get a facial on her birthday; she mentioned to the esthetician that it was the first facial for both of us. She eyed my crow’s feet suspiciously and said “really?”. As we were leaving, I said that it was so nice and that I should have started getting them sooner. Her raised eyebrows indicated that she was thinking the same thing but for very different reasons.

 

Then, I was chatting with a couple work folk and we were discussing a particular intersection; I mentioned that a gas station was on the corner. I was shot down pretty quickly; the other two were convinced there was no gas station. I was adamant that it was there and a Circle K store was attached to it. They didn’t even know what Circle K was.

 

This invoked a comment from one of my co-workers. “Were you buying your slurpees from there back in 1972?” Um. Thanks. Do I look old enough to be buying slurpees in 1972? My other co-worker informed him that I wasn’t even born yet. Thanks for having my back, Term.

 

Lastly, I was going through the drive-thru the other day and had this gem of a conversation with the cashier.

Cashier: $8:35, please.

TWG: On debit, please.

(we’re Canadian, leave us alone)

Cashier: Does it have the tap function?

TWG: Nooooo.(in a “I’m totally sure” kind of way)

Cashier: Just thought I’d check, it makes it easier.

TWG: I know! I saw it once and it was so fast. It’s pretty cool!

Cashier: It is.

TWG: I don’t even know how you get one…

Cashier: Oh, it comes on newer debit cards.

TWG: Really?? Cuz I just got this thing a little while ago.

Cashier: Are you sure it doesn’t tap?

TWG: Ummmm… I. Don’t. Know. (I spot an vaguely familiar icon on the card) Hey look, the thingy!!

Cashier: Yeah, that’s probably where you tap it… Try it next time…

TWG: Okay – thanks!!!

I stopped understanding technology and I was never very good at it in the first place. This is the beginning to the end, folks, beginning to the end.

Cuba 1.0

As you already know, I went to Cuba a few weeks back. It was great! This is what I looked at for 7 days:

White sand beach, clear blue-green water, 30 degree (Celcuis) weather, unlimited alcohol and enough shade (yay, palapas!) that I didn’t burn to a crisp. I can’t really ask for much else.

Like Mexico, my MO was pretty much the same: Operation – Drink Too Much. I do think I kept it together a bit more than in Mexico. Perhaps because there wasn’t any tequila involved or maybe because I’m getting better at it.

I arrived at the hotel around 8:30pm local time. Having left my house at 3am local time (Cuba is 3 hours ahead), you could say I had a pretty long day. My mission once I hit the hotel was: find room, find food, find booze.

The resort was very small, at least compared to the resort I stayed at in Mexico. There was only one outside bar open at night, naturally, I went there to have some drinks.

Travelling alone, you’re bound to meet some interesting characters. This trip was no exception. A couple tables over, there was a large group of mostly older folks. One of these folks was a 60-ish British fellow who was rather intoxicated. Randomly, he would stand up and yell. Loud.

I found it amusing. The first night. By the third or fourth night, everyone had pretty much had it.

In that same group, there were a couple younger people. One of them was a 19 year old boy who was quickly adopted by a family that we met down there. He could almost always be found within arms reach of the two young kids. He’d play with them and take them swimming at the beach. All around, he was a good kid.

The other younger person, was a female of indiscernible age; she could have been 24 or 39. But, let me tell you, Trainwreck Sally was a sight to see. Every time I saw her, regardless of time of day, she was absolutely hammered. 3am? Sure, makes sense… So am I. 3pm? What? Already??

As someone who enjoys the sauce (and has trainwrecked through a week in Mexico once or twice), I’m hesitant to judge someone on this, but I will.

She did and said a lot of inappropriate things while under the influence, but the icing on the cake was one night when a bunch of us went to the disco to dance. She showed up after us because she kept getting distracted by things along the way. We’ve all been there. At least I have.

Her dancing was… interesting. It started out with her twirling around, arms spread open, face turned upwards. I was pretty sure she was going to fall down or throw up. She didn’t. Then her twirl-fest morphed into, what can only be described as, an interpretative/artistic dance.

I’m being very diplomatic; she basically rolled around on the floor. In a dress. And had no clue that what she was doing had any effect on what her dress was doing.

I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a point where she rolled right off the stage. Sure the stage was only 4 inches off the ground and sure she seemed to work it into her “routine”, but I can guarantee it was not planned.

A girl I met down there agreed with me and she decided to say something to Sally that night.

Apparently Paulie came out the asshole in that conversation. The next day, Sally was going on about how someone was very rude to her the night before; they told her that she thinks with her vagina.

You could say she got the context wrong; all Paulie meant was that everyone in the club knew what Sally’s underwear looked like.

You could also say she got the person wrong; she thought I was the one who was brutally honest with her.