Yesterday I was trapped in a black hole of E! YouTube clips. It began with those two-minute house tours of various “celebrities”—B-list at highest—where the “tour” is just them opening the door, going, “Come on in” showing approximately two rooms in what is inevitably a 30-room house and some light panning that you have to pause the video for because the shots are so tightly sequenced together.
After watching that, I stumbled—“stumbled”—onto a video of four E! anchors discussing Chrissy Teigen’s alleged proposal to act as the surrogate for Kim Kardashian West. It’s kind of weird, given how cossested and incestuous the entertainment industry is, that they were discussing the reproduction habits of two people that they’ve probably met on several occasions. But that’s not the point of me bringing them up.
One of the anchors said that she could never be a surrogate for a close friend for the fearful responsibility. “What if you get into a car accident, and you’re carrying your friend’s child?” I never thought about it, but that paralyzing fear of carrying someone else’s most precious thing must be overwhelming.
But listen, I actually have a point about this.
Today, in Zen Meditation, we had our “final.” We had to push our shoes on and pair up. Once we were in our pairs, we learned what the final was. It would stretch 50 minutes. For 25 minutes, one person would act as the Communicator—eyes closed but allowed to talk. They would be led around by the Guide—eyes open but mute. After 25 minutes, they would switch. The catch is that, for the entirety of the 50 minutes, we had to remain in physical contact.
I was the Guide first, and had the task of leading someone around campus, where there’s trolleys rolling down the road and people and cars and cyclists—the banes of my existence. And for 25 minutes, I was Chrissy Teigen carrying the Kimye baby—which, if it ever happens, I still pray is named Ocean or Galaxy, because HOW BOMB would that be?? I was responsible for someone else, and I couldn’t even say anything. I had to led my partner in silence, guide her with subtle shifting in my arms and hands.
25 minutes suddenly becomes an eternity when you’re silently dragging a blind person around the streets of Boston. We sat on benches, touched branches, walked through leaves, grazed our fingers against plants.
It was actually harder for me to be the Guide than it was to be the Communicator. But not having sight and having no one to answer is a lot like therapy—ALL ABOUT ME. Here are a few things I said while I was blinded:
1). “Isn’t it crazy that butterflies have migration patterns ingrained in their DNA?”
2). “Are you going to push me in front of a car?”
3). “Are we walking up a hill? Wait. No.”
4). (intermittent shrieking as I think something is looming in front of me but it’s just the shadows from the branches above)
5). “Where are we going? Wait, you can’t answer.”
6). “If you could answer, what would your favorite drink be?”
7). “AhH! What was that?!” (a shrub)
8). “If we’re about to get hit by a car, feel free to yank me out of the way. I won’t get scared. I mean, I will get scared, but I’d rather shit my pants than get hit by a car.”
9). “Where are we?” (we haven’t moved)
10). (On stairs) “I could totally do it.”
11). (On you not expecting there to be no more steps and you overextend your footing) “Whoa!”
12). (On underestimating how many stairs are left on the way down) “Whoops!”
13). “I could see why people would be scared if a dog came up to them.”
14). “I wish I had a cane.”
15). “We walked past a fat guy sitting on the sidewalk smoking a cigar—I hope we don’t pass him again.” (Pause). “Omg are we walking past him right now?” (No answer, obviously). (Whispers) “Are we walking past him?” (Obviously, still no answer)
16). “This hill is really big. Or maybe I just think that because I can’t see.”
17). “What was that?!” (Upon hearing a car in the vicinity)
18). (On being able to track direction based on the sun’s movement) “We’re moving north. No. South. No, wait, north.”
19). (On the same train of thought) “Wait, does the sun rise in the east or the west? Fuck.”
20). (On thinking upon it for a little longer) “East.”
In other nudes, I was trying to rip an ingrown hair from my beatific face, and now I have a thumbprint-sized bruise on my cheek, thus completely defeating the point of clearing my skin. It looks like I was hit in the face by a ping-pong ball.
Also, I had this Tweet last night, which got a shockingly large amount of play. Which goes to show you, I have no idea what is funny and what isn’t. Yen will it happen again? Get it?