I got a Swiss Army Knife today. It was listed as an optional item on our Ugandan packing list. My mum and I stood in Target, beleaguered from our trip to the Mall of America, in which we bush-whacked through aggressive groups of mall walkers and ugly clothes.
I should mention here that the Mall of America has a disturbing and uncanny effect on my nervous system and general behavior. When I first arrive, say up until the first thirty minutes, I am wide-eyed and tentative, caught up in the excitement that comes from too many Orange Julius stands, a loudspeaker blaring Lady Gaga, and groups of thirteen year olds on dates. Naturally. Then, upon reaching my threshold of three stores, or thirty minutes, (whichever comes first), I reach a state of "mall-verwhelmed." I can tell the moment I enter this trance-like state, because the world seems to get a lot brighter, I feel faint, and I lose all sense of coordination and motivation. I often forget where I am, what I am doing, or if I like plaid or ruffles better. I run into mannequins and apologize feverishly, I knock over displays, I find myself thinking about tropical fruits instead of what size shirt I should try on. I forget about the human laws of where to walk and when to pass elderly shoppers, and at a certain point, I feel like everyone in the mall is a cold hearted robot. Quite simply, I lose all functionality as both a human adult and a self-respecting shopper. Upon first onset of mall-verwhelmed, I start to form strategy of the quickest way to leave the mall, with the least injury to myself. I forget about all previous objectives and fun, and I sometimes start speaking in tongues.
Anyway. It's unpleasant and definitely an environmentally-caused condition. I was actually ecstatic to go to Target at this point. I was also eager to make up for my erratic and inefficient shopping from before, so I decided to prove myself with the Swiss Army Knife. I decided to pick the Swiss Army Knife with 13 instead of 10 functions, because as I proudly told my mum, "Oh, well, you know, there needs to be a cork-screw," and at the moment, completely unaware of ANY other functions of an army knife besides opening bottles of wine. I mean, what ELSE would I use a knife for? Throwing it at small rodents that will appear in my hut? I don't know. It still is beyond me. But it looks pretty sweet, and I can open a bottle of wine with it.
At some point, there was a point to this blog post, but I completely lost track. It seems like there may be more important things to say than what just happened above.