To thine own self PEE true

Perhaps humiliation is for the faint of heart, if only for the purpose of strengthening it.

Levels of embarrassment are based on interpretation. Some people would be mortified in certain situations, while others simply carry that, “I had to do what I had to do” or “What’s done is done” attitude.

With every humiliating moment, there appears to be at least an inch of growth within people. It is that chance of advancement toward becoming comfortable with oneself.

Besides, isn’t it best for us to laugh at our own insecurities rather than live in constant worry that others are already doing it behind our backs?

Imagine a situation where you can’t leave the room because something important is going on. Let’s say there’s this big, important lecture where undivided attention earns a student the right to pass the entire semester without ever actually doing work (ideal, but let’s imagine).

Yet, it has been nearly an hour and a half of unbearable and haunting inner turmoil: You are holding in, what feels like, a tank load of pee in your bladder.

Menacing.

The clock finally strikes and the lecture is finished. The word “bathroom” echoes in the mind over and over again as “blood” does to a hungry vampire.

You scatter, sprint, pant a little bit and finally make it to the restroom. There’s nobody in the bathroom. Sweet. Find the way into the oasis that is an empty stall. Let this torture be gone and flushed!

Immediately, and refreshingly, you begin to pee with such vigor that the sound of it hitting the toilet water can be compared to that of a racehorse as it stands on hay.

In the midst of relief, someone else walks into the bathroom. Embarrassment overflows because this person, whoever she may be, could probably be thinking, “Yikes, that’s some fast peeing.”

Shame, agony and the death of sophistication as you know it consumes and suffocates the mind.

In situations like these and many others, whether major or minor, it is important to remember that, despite what happens, no amount of humiliation can mark a scar on one’s dignity if one does not allow it.

We live. We pee. We feel a little shame. In the end, it is important that we continue to move on.

Embarrassing moments are those random checkpoints that test people and asks them, “Are you okay with being you?”

Whether you laugh or cry in response provides enough information to answer the question.

May we know ourselves best through the option of laughter.

So, how about them digits?

“Did he ever call you?”

In a discussion with a friend about the communication between me and the current love of my life, Joe Jonas, he brought up an interesting topic that has since then been stranded in my mind: How does it feel knowing that only 10 digits separate you from talking to any specific person in the world?

Ten digits from now and I could be hearing the voices of the Jonas Brothers on the other end, from wherever they are and whatever time. I cannot predict what the conversation would be like, but knowing that there is a chance of being connected with them is amazing. Ten digits are making all the difference.

It is a psychotic thought, I’ll admit. I am pretty sure if Joe Jonas ever reads this, he’ll sigh with relief knowing that I do not have his number and have absolutely no way of acquiring it.

Yet, it is an honest thought. Nearly everyone on the planet has a cell phone or house phone. We are all separated by one strategic lineup of numbers.

Egads.