Agoraphobia

The fear of open places. In case you are wondering, I'm extremely bad at coming up with titles. Agoraphobia was the first thing that popped into my head. So I wrote it down and now have to eloquently tie it into a narrative relating to my life. I think this is a worthy challenge to occupy my mind during a study break.

To me, agoraphobia seems like an absurd fear to have. Why should anyone fear limitless space? Why should they be afraid of open possibility? Most people embrace freedom. Why then do these individuals fear it.

I'm going to speculate that they are the smart ones. They are comfortable in their cages; spacious and comfortable but without the annoying draftiness that comes with infinite space. Perhaps I'm wrong to call them cages. Ask anyone that has lived in the same house for 18 years (me) and they will tell you that the cage is home. There are no iron bars on the windows, no locks at the doors, in fact there are familiar nooks and crannies of limitless memory.

When I say limitless memory I refer to all of those memorable instances that span the lifetime in the 'cage'. Maybe calling it limitless memory is wrong. Maybe it should be limitless time.

Those individuals who spend their lives in these 'cages', these 'homes', may be agoraphobics but they are not - as I would say for most people - afraid of time. They live their lives in the same place, rampant with the memories of past events, threatening their comfortable existence. While the rest of us flit from place to place making new memories and then leaving them behind. Are we terrified that the past will catch up to us?

And so what does that make me? I lived in the same house for 18 years and have just moved to a new city. Am I running from my past? Perhaps I'm the tentative Ground Hog testing the winter air with its tongue to see if it is safe to go outside. I like to think that I'm neither agoraphobic or chronophobic (people who fear time). I like to think I'm not old enough to be either. I haven't been beaten down by the world in my freedom. Nor have I been terrorized by my past.

So what does that make me? What does that make you? Are you running? Or are you running free?

Exams...

Today was a strange day. I think I could feel the weather when deciding to get out of bed or not. I could feel that it was cloudy and grey. So I slept in to 1pm. And I have felt, consequently, entirely guilty about today.

After sleeping in to the lovely noon-time hour I preceded to skirt my required studying for the day. Taylor's Polynomials were just too far above me. So I went on to limits, scribbled out a few things to remember and promptly closed my math textbook. 'I know it already,' I told myself.

Then I failed at watching movies. I couldn't even commit to a full length cinema experience. I couldn't even commit to an episode of Heroes (with Monday just around the corner *gasp*).

I don't really know how it can possibly be almost 7 o'clock. It probably has something to do with sleeping through most of the day. But I don't feel like I've accomplished anything short of replacing my physics textbook on the shelf and moving the math textbook into prime studying position.

I just feel like I have so much time right now. So much time and nothing to fill it. My 'serious' exams - math and chemistry - are about ten days off. Plenty of time. Right?

Wrong. Dead wrong. Hours of boring lectures. Rain-filled walks to class. Frantic note-taking. Late night assignments. These are all resting on my exam mark. All of them will be worthless if I should slip and bomb my finals.

Of course, it would still have been a learning experience. But a freaking expensive one.

I think its the Christmas carols. The Starbucks seasonal drinks. They are ten days too early. And my resolve is a little short.

The good news is I'm very rested.

Consumerism Ad Nauseum

I have to chuckle to myself as I sit typing, steaming cup of Peppermint Latte in my hand, Christmas carols (as sung by your favorite pop stars) ringing through my head, that I've taken the consumerism of the holiday season too far.

Needless to say, Christmas is my favorite season. A fact drilled into me by my father, the king of Christmas. I've started to decorate my room - to the chagrin of my roommate - with snowflakes made from wrapping paper. I would purchase a tree and lights but I don't really have the time. But as you can tell, I take the business of Christmas very seriously (mind the pun).

I can remember one year that my family tried to do Christmas on the cheap. We didn't buy any new decorations, we minimized the exorbitant number of egg nog cartons and mandarin oranges, we even agreed to a "one-present-per-person" clause (oh the puns). But, regardless of these initiatives, we still spent a lot.

I don't know why, but the Christmas season seems to inspire a spending spree in me. I feel the need to buy candy canes. I have the desire to shop for others. I've barely been able to resist buying egg nog. And I don't need any of these things.

For one, egg nog and candy canes will make me fat. And oh, Santa Baby just came on the radio station I'm listening to. It just elicited the biggest smile I've had in weeks. It's the version by Madonna. You should all know the one I'm talking about.

Back to my talk. I can't put a finger on why I consume - why I feel the need to consume - so much during the holiday season. I could blame it on genetics. It's in my blood and I can't help it. Or I could blame it on my upbringing. I've never had a dull Christmas (well one but that makes me want to make every subsequent Christmas even better).

It makes me sick though. I spend so much money on seasonal items. I love spending money on things I use for a month and then chuck.

That's not to say that my family just spends money during the holidays. We try to give back. We've volunteered at the Mustard Seed (a shelter in Calgary) and we try to every year. Hopefully we'll find a balance.

But I doubt it. Honestly, I like it. I feel so taken by the season. So invigorated. Now all I need is some snow....

Better Than Church

I went to the gym today. For those of you who don't know, I'm on exam break. I have no reason to get up in the mornings. Well, except to study. Anyways, I set my alarm and woke up this morning at 9 o'clock - a very reasonable hour. And I went to the gym. I'm not sure if I mentioned that yet. I went to the gym. I'm very proud of myself.

So, back to me going to the gym. The morning air was cold. The sun was still tucked snugly behind the horizon. The grass was delicately frosted like a powder doughnut (yum). I snuck from my room, flickering in and out of shadows as I made my way through the cold to the commons block. A pristine, deserted foyer awaited me as I turned to head into the small and empty weight room.

Actually, none of that happened. It was 9 after all. I wasn't the first person into the gym and, although the sun wasn't shining, the day was fairly nice for December. That little imagery just sounded far more exciting.

Anyways, I've come to the understanding that, especially in Vancouver, the gym is a more religious place than any church. Firstly, you dress up to go there. Not often in your nicest clothes but you still dress up. Second, you take off your outdoor shoes before going in. And thirdly, most importantly, you go there to seek forgiveness for your sins.

People go to the gym for a number of reasons but I think the best reason is the one I discovered last night. I was sitting in my room ogling the care package my mum sent me and scarfing down a piece of fudge. How could I receive penance for my sin of gluttony? That was about the moment I set my alarm.

Others go to the gym to think. To embrace their "spirituality". They try to "ascend" to a higher level of consciousness through mind numbing repetitions of the same activities, often with "sacred" music playing through their ears.

This act is so ritualized it often takes place daily, at the same time and with the same people. Everyone kneeling on mats "stretching", splaying themselves before the Almighty.

And after you leave the gym you are cleansed. You are free to sin again - as often as you want - until your next visit. Now all they need are preachers.....well, more dignified ones than the aerobics instructors.