Skip to main content

Noodles: Just, noodles.

I realized on Thursday that I have no idea who I am.  It was very disconcerting, particularly as it happened moments after I’d stood up suddenly, not realizing there was a heavy plank shelf directly over my head.  It was also after two or three hours of inhaling the stale remnants of ten years of uninhibited mouse parties, and an entire bottle of environmentally caring cleaning fluid.  Anyway, this isn’t exactly humorous (unless you get a kick out of existential crises), but it made me wonder if anyone else feels the same way.  So, readers, tell me this - do you feel as if you know who you are?  Or are you just pretending to know?  Or are you, at this moment, simultaneously reading this on your phone and telling a complete stranger all the ways that you feel isolated from the rest of the human race?  Let me know.  “I” am interested in your answer.  








PS Anticipating zero comments, because the majority of my readership is too intellectual to stoop to the paltry practice of blog-commentating, let me clarify that, if no one answers my question, it can definitely be taken as rhetorical.  

Comments

  1. Annette FischerJuly 2, 2019 at 7:32 PM

    I personally do NOT feel that I know WHAT I am doing. However, I DO know who I am in CHRIST, and if you ask me, if my opinion is of any value at all, I say that's all that truly matters. Feeling lost in the world could even be, dare I say, a good thing, because there is somewhere else that is truly home. And, yes, I believe it is well worth it to "stoop to" blog commentary. What is writing if not conversational?

    ReplyDelete
  2. The Lasagna July 7, 2019 at 2:48 PM

    Thanks for stooping. I appreciate stooping and do it myself regularly, though it’s usually because I dropped something.
    Seriously though, thanks for reading and I appreciate your comment a whole bunch! :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. UnknownJuly 9, 2019 at 9:29 PM

    I think I know who I am! There are moments, though, when I’m not sure I do, and other moments when I’m sure I do not. Those moments are usually an indication to me that I need to spend some time investigating where my identity comes from. And sometimes they’re just moments of pure human existence as we all know it and nothing more.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Noodles: Just another downside of being a genius.

Since I’ve got a pretty long post in store for you a little later this week (and yeah, it’s Saturday, I know...so that means in about five minutes), I’m gonna make this quick and just share with you one of my finer moments.  Possibly the most brilliant highlight of my entire career as a human, if I may say so.   Recently I was trying to center a picture on what was supposed to be today’s post.  Suddenly, my cursor...is that what the little vertical blinky line is called?  If it is, wow, what an intense name for such an innocent little thingy.  Anyway, you all know what I mean.  We’ll just call it the cursor and hope for the best.  Kay.  So, my cursor started moving.  It was traveling across the page all alone!  It had a mind of its own!  Because I’m super suspicious, my first thought was that someone had hacked my computer, since I was in a pretty crowded public place.  There were some nerdy guys in the corner who looked cap...
Post a Comment
Read more

Noodles: It’s autumn, all of you.

Hi world.  It’s me, your favorite super sheltered, extremely Scandinavian, strangely endearing pile of soggy, tomato-drenched crinkly noodles! Otherwise known as Baby Swedish Lasagna under an Inadequate Tent. The reason I bring up my origins is this: I grew up without hearing anyone say “y’all”.  I believe the contraction never crossed my path outside of a book until middle school, when it became trendy among my equally sheltered, pale-skinned friends. I started saying it often, with little understanding of its pronunciation, spelling, or proper usage. At some point, perhaps in a fit of cultural sensitivity, maybe after the madness of middle school had seeped out of my neurons, I stopped using it. Except in emails. Yes, my friends, I am an email y’aller.  It just works for the already-awkward group conversations.  There’s honestly no equivalent in northern dialect.  Check it out. “You guys.”  Offensive to feminists. “You girls.”  Offensive...
4 comments
Read more

Spinach: Zombie Sheep (part 1).

There are people in this world who don’t quite fit into society.               If people were puzzle pieces, they would be the unidentified extras, the empty gaps,                     the soggy chewed up pieces that fall off the table and get noshed on by the dog.    T hey live their lives feeling unnecessary, lost, destroyed.  In a world that celebrates conformity, if not uniformity, allowances are made for puzzle pieces to be different shapes, colors, and sizes. But if they don’t fit together, they’re either pounded on until they do, or thrown away.   Rejected.   Not because they’re of less worth than any other piece.  All puzzle pieces are simply shaped bits of cardboard, after all.  But because their purpose is not immediately visible.   Okay, that said, I’m not a fan of misfits, myself included.  They’re ...
2 comments
Read more