Sailing into the face of danger in the name of vacation.

I’m still around. But, I wasn’t for a while. Yann and I–like everybody else–had to scale back our vacation plans for the year. We still wanted to leave town, so the obvious option was to spend a week on the mainland, where there are more people, and consequently, more infected people.

Our vacation included a few non-vacationy activities. I got my hair cut, skin pumped full of pigment, and made a trip to Ikea.

Continue reading “Sailing into the face of danger in the name of vacation.”

Intangible interactions.

I’m confused about how I feel about being back at work. I got too used to not being around people so I forgot how awkward the public can be around me, which in turn, makes me feel awkward.

The best part about wearing a mask at work is that I don’t have to figure out what to do with my mouth around people. I’ve noticed that some of the staff at the local supermarket have full-face visors. I’d like that, but tinted–or a mirror finish so that all those bumbling hearing people can see how they look then they react to my deafness.

No, really. The two-month quarantine period really did fuck me up socially. Anyway, we’re living in a time where wearing something like this is now socially acceptable:

A yellow button reads PLEASE STAND BACK 6 FEET WHEN TALKING TO ME.

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Incidental social isolation.

The fond memories tied to the Langley house mentioned in my last post mostly happened outside the house rather than inside it.

My parents made the decision to relocate to Langley in 1995 after my siblings moved out to free me from a life of continued isolation.

Gif of a loop of Milhouse throwing a frisbee by himself.
Me pre-1995.

There, I was within walking distance from my school and eight deaf kids with whom I had varying degrees of friendship.

It was the best thing they’d ever done for me. I could have done without the big house with the 800-gallon fish tank in the rec room, hot tub, pristine living room carpet, a backyard that was a mushroom paradise, and so on.

None of that mattered as much as being close to my friends.

Continue reading “Incidental social isolation.”