This afternoon I taught myself to solder components to a circuit board. I didn't really have a specific project to do, just a soldering iron and a practice board and the feeling that it's one of those skills I really ought to have. And I had the funny feeling, fitting resistors and capacitors into the board, that this wasn't so different from learning to take a fist.
Er. It's not exactly the same. But there are far more feelings in common than you'd expect. The sensation of learning to use your muscles in a new way, the initial rush of "wow, this is easier than it looks" followed by the setting in of "no, there are tricky parts and I won't be an expert on my first day", and the unparalleled pleasure of gaining a new skill. (And overcoming fear; soldering is more frightening to me than fisting, because my spatial perception is so screwy that I have to focus very hard not to touch the iron to my skin, whereas my tactile perception in my vagina is quite fine indeed.)
I want to try everything once. Everything that isn't evil or dangerous, at least. Even if I weren't at all bisexual, I think I would still have to have sex with a girl once, just to have done it. And indeed I don't like buttsex, but nonetheless I'm glad I've gotten fucked up the ass a couple times. To never try something, to die without even knowing what it's like, seems horrifying to me. I once had the opportunity to eat mealworms and I turned it down, and I'm still kicking myself.
I'm only going to live so long. I want to live a lot. I want experiences broad and deep, but if I have to choose, I choose broad. I have, at age 25, lived in 13 cities or towns, held 9 jobs (not counting innumerable short-term gigs; these are only the multi-month formal employments, here), and, by now, fucked 27 people. I suppose you could see this as a sign of some disquiet in me, a sign that I haven't found what I'm looking for--but this is what I'm looking for. I don't want one simple life. Although, you know, maybe I could try that for a bit...
You can go to any pet shop and pick up a couple meal worms for less than a buck :)
ReplyDeleteI know exactly what you mean. It's always the things I did not do that I regret more than anything. I can work through my mistakes just fine. (Oh, and we have the same opinion of buttsex.)
ReplyDeleteI never thought I would see someone equate learning to solder with being fisted. That was quite the eye opener.
ReplyDeleteI totally get what you're saying. I'm still kicking myself for chickening out of the circle pit last concert I went to.
ReplyDeleteI remember the first time I touched the soldering iron with my hand. I'd burned myself on hot components before, but this was the first time I put my hand directly on it.
ReplyDeleteWhat I remember is the smell. I somehow smelled it before I felt the pain. I suspect the nerve endings at the spot were instantly destroyed, and the pain was secondary to inflammation in the surrounding tissue.
And I didn't yell, or even yelp. I turned to the other grad student in the room and said, conversationally, "Ow." I went to the sink to run some cold water on my hand, and thought about the smell again.
It smelled delicious.
I love the smell of fucken melting fuming solder!!!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteYou can believe I will be mentioning this the next time I have to solder something at work. Good on yeh!
ReplyDelete:-D