Depressed, Lazy, My favorites

Why killing myself seems like a lot of work

I have a hard time not saying things I think when i think they are funny. Often I know that the statement I’m about to make will make the person I’m saying it to uncomfortable, and is totally unnecessary for furthering the conversation, but if I think that it is funny – usually for the reasons described above – I will say it.

Example: While hooking up with a half-black girl for the first time I stopped and said: “Hey, I’m finally fulfilling my domestic diversity requirement.” (That’s a scholarly requirement at my ex-institution)

This has gotten me into a fair amount of trouble, but it has also helped me weed out the unfunny people in my life.

It reminds me of 4th grade, when we had “put-up circle.” In this activity one person (a different every day) would sit in the middle of a circle of his/her peers and listen as his/her classmates awkwardly complimented him/her on something vague and unimaginative. For years I was confused as to the meaning of “good sense of humor.” At the time I was able to break down the phrase, and understand that it should mean that the receiver of the compliment understood what is funny and what is not, but the “compliment” was constantly thrown at the kids who laughed the most – the children who were indiscriminate in their taste of comedy. This was the opposite of a good sense of humor as far as I was concerned. It made me assume that nobody in my class had a decent sense of humor. This was until I realized that nobody was taking “put-up circle” as seriously as I was because there was no way that everybody thought that the kid with the snot bubbles, sweatpants and extensive Goosebump’s collection was “nice.”

So, I learned three things from “put-up circle.” People don’t care about the definition of terms, people dont take the rules of a game you are forced to play that seriously, and everybody thinks I’m “nice.”

I’m different. Obviously. I was walking through campus to print something off today and I realized that I was the only one who chose to cross campus via the grassy quad as opposed to the cemented sidewalk. Out of laziness I had become Jack Kerouac.

Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe my distaste for fillintheblank-norms, my penchant for saying inappropriate things without apology, and my love of the uncomfortable is just my extreme laziness, but I’m going to continue to try to convince myself that I’m fighting for a cause.

It’s definitely the laziness, but if I succumb to believing the other option, than I might as well kill myself and that seems like a lot of …  check the title for brilliant cyclicality.


7 thoughts on “Why killing myself seems like a lot of work

  1. I bet that she thought it was funny. Unless you hooked up with two-half black girls very close to one another and the one that is not the one I am thinking about had no sense of humor. Are there even two half-backs girls at your alma mater / my mater (?).

    Sigh. Procrastination in this fashion is even more work than actually working. Because of the need to be vague via the internet. I’m done now.

  2. glicky says:

    No, its the one. The problem with Nisse’s phrasing of that story is it makes is sound as if having said that “weeded her out” when in fact she turned out to be on the can-put-up-with-Nisse short list.

    Can’t wait to summarize this post. As Nisse’s blog gets more and more repetitive, self absorbed and nihilistic it makes it all the more fun to tease out its similarities to a blog about superheroes and hip hop lingo.

  3. h2money says:

    There are many half black girls at mac. And I was attracted to all of them. only one of them turned out on the “can-put-up-with-Nisse” very short list.

  4. Pingback: Boredom rears its ugly head « Graphic2$ summed up

  5. byproductive says:

    Off the Sidewalk by Nisse Greenberg. It’s like On the Road, except Sal doesn’t have a car, and he pegs his self-worth to the degree of repulsion women feel toward him.

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