Disney and Various Asymmetries

I thought it would feel different being a blogger now, like maybe I'd feel taller or something. Maybe that comes with time.

It's that time of year again when my iPod requires some serious renovations to its play list to help fuel my spring fever. This year, the annual need for excessively happy music has been compounded by the fact that I'm graduating soon, which, I fear, will most likely be followed by my becoming a highly educated hobo (which, although considered superior to vagrants in the hierarchy of modern nomads, won't quite make me enough to pay off the massive debt I've accumulated over a lifetime of school).

To combat this ever present fear of living in a box within a year, and reflect my growing desire to run far far away from my current life (because it consists of school and...school), I've been listening to a lot of Disney movie music. Not just any Disney music, but the "this place sucks, I want to be in this other place because I'm way too awesome for this place" songs. They seem to occur at the beginning of every movie with a female lead. Like "Part of your world" from The Little Mermaid, "Little Town" from Beauty and the Beast, "Just around the River Bend" from Pocahontas, and "Reflection" from Mulan. Oh, I also have "The Bare Necessities", which, even though it doesn't fit that mold, is essential because it helps with my fears of both poverty and bears.

Anyways, this change in music recently led to me belting out "Reflection" into my mirror (because I enjoy being as literal as possible, especially when music is involved). While singing about how the world doesn't know who I am (while simultaneously thinking, "to be honest, my reflection's not so far off from who I am inside, because...damn!") I noticed a strange anomaly. It may have been a trick of the light, but I noticed my left eyelashes seemed significantly darker than my right eyelashes. Immediately I thought, "it's probably just because I'm bad at applying mascara"...but then I remembered, I hadn't worn anything but clear mascara for a month and a half; ever since the moment I realized that general exhaustion brought on by school had led to all emotions (sadness, anger, happiness, indiferrence etc) immediately being followed by me sobbing uncontrollably. So why the colour difference? I don't know, but it didn't really matter because by this point my mind had already moved onto another asymmetry I'd noticed a few years ago.

I detected it while working a summer job in a factory cutting wires (or, more accurately working a machine that cut wires for me, which I would stare at for 10 hours so that if it jammed, I could press the emergency stop button, effectively saving the world from a catastrophic wire explosion, or so I imagined). I quickly learned that the best way to entertain myself through the day was to see how much water I could drink and then use the resulting frequent need for washroom breaks to get a change of scenery. Killing time in the washroom was imperative to this plan, so, washing my hands very slowly gave me the opportunity to notice something odd: the veins on the back of my hands are structured completely differently on the left and right side. And I don't just mean a little different, my left hand has perfectly organized straight veins that all bifurcate at the same perfect level, while my right hand's veins are like weeds, just growing in every direction.

My discovery of this difference really wasn't worth much unless I could figure out which hand was the evil one. It was useful to have such a topic to ruminate on during my long days of waiting for something to go horribly wrong so that I could press the stop button (hopefully with the good hand, or who knows what would happen). Also, given that periodically I was given other jobs that could seriously damage a hand, I thought it would be best to determine my evil hand's identity before it had a chance to sabotage the other one, as evil hands are known to do.

At first I thought, "well, the left is so organized, while the right hand has this whole 'rebel without a cause who doesn't care what you think' thing going on...the right hand totally must be the evil one." But, then I remembered who else was very organized: fascists. There's no way that the fascist hand could be the good one. Then I flip-flopped again, because having lived my life as a southpaw, I'd read enough lefty day calendars (a common Christmas present) to know the sort of prejudice surrounding the left hand, and I just didn't want to be part of that. So, around this point I gave up figuring it out and just hoped for the best. I'll probably regret someday that I didn't really put the work in to ascertain which hand is evil. This day will most likely come once it finally reveals its evil scheme and I'm powerless to stop it because I only have one hand working for me and it's probably a wimp (also, evil hand will have already hog-tied it, because that's what evil hands excel at). I think I'm going to start doing more things with my feet.