The Art of Waving (And A Sidenote On Werewolfism)

The Art of Waving (And A Sidenote On Werewolfism)

The [Difficult] Art of Waving
(Not fan waving, but that sounds fun too.)

Imagine this: it's about 7:30 in the morning before school, and I'm walking to my locker. I'm in a relatively empty space between two buildings when I see this guy from my English class. He's waving. Is he waving at me? I turn around to check, and there's no one there. He can't be waving at me, though. That would be so weird. So I ignore him. He's not waving at me. There must be someone else around that I can't see, I think. But then he yells at me. Loudly.

"Natasha! I'm waving at you!" He sounds kind of annoyed, but also kind of like he's joking. With this guy, you never know.

"Oh, sorry," I mumble, and wave back. Then I hurry away.

The Queen* has it easy. All she really have to do is master that little hand wave/flick, and then whip it out whenever someone waves at her. If the Queen thinks someone is waving at her, then someone is definitely waving at her. People do not wave at someone standing behind the Queen when the Queen is present. And the Queen most definitely does not offend people when she doesn't wave back.

Unfortunately, for us non-royal people, life doesn't work like that. It often happens that you think someone is waving at you when they're really waving at someone behind you. When you wave back to the waver, there are two common responses: either the waver will look very confused and slightly annoyed, or the waver will wave back while looking very confused and slightly annoyed.

Because this instance is embarassing and uncomfortable, we often are unsure when people are waving at us. So we don't wave back, and then they either get offended and don't say anything, or get offended and do say something. Either way, you've offended somebody, which isn't pleasant, and you've embarassed yourself.

And then on the opposite end of the spectrum, you wave at somebody and they aren't sure who you are, or, more commonly, they don't have their glasses on and can't see you. Either way they don't wave back and you're left standing their like a fool, waving your hand around like you're trying to catch a cab. Unfortunately, I expect this is one of those little things that never goes away.

Unless, maybe, we can stop waving altogether. That doesn't sound too likely, though.

A Sidenote On Werewolfism
(If you're expecting this next bit to be Twilight-related, I'm sorry. Please accept this evil glare in return.)

Last night I was perusing my AP World review book when I cam across this paragraph:
According to Daniel [the prophet of the Hebrew Book of Daniel], Nebuchadrezzar** had a strange dream, and sought advice from Daniel, who told him that he would be removed from office for seven years as a result of an odd and strange disease. Within a year, Nebuchadrezzar did become ill with what scientists now thing was lycanthropy. Lycanthropy results in loss of erect posture, rejection of all human food, and PREFERENCE FOR WALKING ON ALL FOURS. The King became a maniac. He lived in the open twenty-four hours a day, fed on herbs, rejected clothing, and became covered with a dense coat of hair. Daniel had prophesied that the illness would not be permanent, and after secon years, Nebuchadrezzar was miraculously cured. He ruled until his death in 562 BCE at about the age of 80.

Disregarding the question of why College Board would test me on this information, let's consider the fact that Nebuchadrezzar became an animal and grew a fur coat. As soon as I read this, I asked my mom about it, and she automatically associated lycanthropy with werewolves. So, of course, I did what any good investigator does: I looked it up on Wikipedia.

There I learned that lycanthropy is a psychological disorder in which you think that you are an animal, such as a dog or a bird or a cat. Now, what I'm wondering, is if I convince myself that I'm a dragon, will I suddenly be able to breathe fire?

Confirmation-itis

I've just returned from Confirmation class. It seems my case of I-Hate-Comfirmation-itis has worsened, as I was informed tonight that there's singing required at our service. Yes, singing. And we have to read pieces that we've written outloud to our parents and grandparents and crazy greataunts. The piece of mine that I requested the Rabbi keep out of the service is of course in it, which is a bit unfortunate because it basically says, "Dear God, I pray for peace and sanity, because humans are horrible and we're going to murder each other and then die of swine flu." Isn't life wonderful? It's a good thing I wrote most of this post before I left, because if I wrote it now all it would say is, "I hate you all."

Anyhow. BEDA buddies, you might have noticed that I haven't been doing questions lately. I think this post is long enough without them, but don't worry, I haven't forgotten you.

Remember me to Harold Square.

-Tasha


* This can be any queen. The Queen of England, the Queen of Sparkles, the Queen of Narnia, take your pick.
** More commonly known as Nebuchadnezzar of the Neo-Babylonians.