You’ve taught me so much, wise dog prince
This year has been an especially fun and fortuitous one, filled with all manner of strange events and even stranger characters. Suck on this listicle of My Lessons Learned in 2012 (lazily assembled links to some of the year’s articles).
Google yourself, at least once
Googling my full name with the safe search off will yield an impressive array of NSFW photos of a quasi-famous porn star, Tiffany Thompson. Thankfully, Google allows you a certain modicum of control over what will show up first when Googling your name. I got around it by calling myself “Tiffy” all the time. Michael Naphan, a filmmaker, summed it up well; “It is, in a way, the psychic database of one’s existence. How will you be remembered? Google yourself.”
From the irritating tics to your ultimate pear-shaped body type, you are becoming exactly like your parents. This encompasses traits both good and bad. But those quirks keep your history alive. “These little idiosyncrasies come out in drips, filter their way down through generations, keep us connected to something larger than ourselves. A grandmother’s love of painting, a mother’s warm disposition, and even fat little sausage fingers represent a chain unbroken. I will have gotten to the point where I am her as much as she is me.” And that’s not a bad thing.
Most people mishear lyrics, choosing to insert their own, better interpretations
Some include Super Silo (Suicide Blonde), Last Night I Dreamed of Some Bagels (Last Night I Dreamed of San Pedro), and from Alanis Morissette’s You Oughta Know: “It’s not fair to deny me… of the cross-eyed bear that you gave to me.”
Learn your dog park social dynamics
A dog park is essentially a playground with occasional humping, an elaborate nursery that has its own unspoken rules and protocols.These include: get your neutered male fixed ASAP, spend some time with your pet so their behavior doesn’t take you off guard and pick up ALL the poop.
If you have a landlord from hell, you’re not alone
We got stories of landlords micturating on flower beds, issuing draconian rules (“I was not allowed to cook fish or eat canned fish products on the premises”) and offering up strange solutions: “So make sure you jiggle the handle to keep the toilet from running. And if anything breaks or anything — call the cops.”
…And having roommates can make you a better person
As iron sharpens iron, even the crappiest roommate situation can refine you into a better roommate.There are certain things that I learned after a decade of living with of engineers, sociopaths, hippies, grifters, musicians, activists, bar sluts and slobs.
For example, I lived with a group of students who, during a prolonged TA strike, descended into constant crystal meth use. The apartment became a raging after-hours, littered with cigarettes butts and diet coke and rave fliers. Random tweakers would stride purposefully around the house, habitually sorting milk crates and screaming if you dared to open the curtains during daylight hours. I witnessed first-hand the upsides (easy weight loss!) and downsides (easy tooth loss!)
What I learned: Just Say No
You have had some mortifying Halloween moments
Like when this happened:
“I dressed up as an old lady and trick-or-treated at an old folks home (by accident). When they asked me what I was, I hemmed and hawed and said: ‘You’. That was mortifying.
And this:
“At one guy’s house we trick-or treated at – he just threw his piece of fried chicken he was eating into my pillowcase of candy.”
How to survive working at a dive bar
I once naively thought my fancy education would alleviate my need to seek employment in a dive bar. On the contrary, basic economics have dictated that I work in some of the stupidest places on earth. In working at a series of dive bars, I realized that one must master selective deafness while creating the illusion of caring. And never screw up the NASCAR pool (where primitive superstition thrives).
Your boobs are not your own, even if you think they are
Big boobs (and Kate Middleton’s) are public domain. Your babies will go to town on your nipples. Cancer might take them away. They’re basically renting prime real estate on your body. Every woman has a unique relationship to her set – whether she likes it or not.
There has been a shift to protect us from ourselves and our own bad choices. We have measured-portions, climate-controls and helmets. But we might die of boredom. All of these protections are designed to save people from their idiotic selves. But mostly its covering the butts of insurance companies. And lawyers who drool at lawsuits that bank on people’s stupidity and greed. We all know that junk food makes you fat, smoking causes cancer, coffee is hot (ideally), and trampolines can paralyze you. But the choice should be your own.
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Tiffy Thompson is a writer and illustrator for the Toronto Standard. Follow her on Twitter at @tiffyjthompson.
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