On ordinal-linguistic personification synesthesia

Last night, in a fit of boredom and irritation at having to focus on state policy, I decided to message one of my more intelligent and interesting friends asking them what could be a fun topic for my next blog post. He suggested:

“What personalities you think certain numbers would have. 12 is chill, 7 is a prig.”

And that was incredible to me, because I’d always thought that was just a little quirk had, maybe stuck still from writing weird stories when I was younger. Now, in all my 22 years I’ve certainly come across mentions of synesthesia a few times, but even so it had always been in reference to people who can see colors when they hear music or look at a number line. I never imagined associating numbers with personalities was an actual documented phenomenon.

Needless to say, Ordinal-lingustic personification exists, and is defined as: a form of synesthesia in which ordered sequences, such as ordinal numbers, week-day names, months and alphabetical letters are associated with personalities. (From Wikipedia; I think personal blogposts can probably stand to use it as a source.)

Of course this isn’t some massive revelation, like I’ve found my real parents and they’re super spies or the rulers of some far-off nation, but it’s a kind of identifier that I never imagined I’d have. Sure, I was in the “Advanced and Gifted” program in elementary school — but so was everyone else at UNC. I don’t have any particular talents — I’m average at many things, and make average grades. I don’t have time for hobbies. Human beings love identifiers; it’s why we take the Myers-Briggs test and check our horoscopes, even though we know they’re bogus. I didn’t really have an identifier before, and now, however, small, it feels like I do. And it’s a cool one.

I suppose I should share my opinions on the personalities of some numbers, then. Not that it’ll prove anything but I, at least, think it’s fun.

  • 2: shy, likes vanilla cakes, smiles at deer
  • 58: rugged, intelligent eyes, very protective of their mother
  • 17: sharp-witted, naive, quick to anger
  • 9: environmentalist, fast runner, doesn’t like reading
  • 36: lots of laugh lines around their eyes, loves baking, is bad at baking
  • 24: poised, likes scrapbooking, puts product in their hair
  • 31: swimmer, favorite season is spring, doesn’t like cats
  • 99: gets regular manicures, probably doesn’t have kids, has a glass of red wine every evening because it’s “good for your heart”

Is that supposed to be exhausting to do? I’ve never purposely thought up numbers for the sake of assigning personalities to them — it’s just happened sometimes when I see certain numbers. Not to be that guy that’s like “that just took so much out of me, I’m so drained, my talent is wasting me away;” I’m just tired and I wasn’t before. Interesting. Maybe should lead the next bit of research on synesthesia.

On giving thanks to the best of your ability in your current circumstances

In honor of it being the week of Thanksgiving and ignoring the irony of our celebrating the one time welcoming refugees into the country actually did wipe out existing cultures (that was us; we did that), I figured I’d write up a post on what I’m thankful for so I have some statements already in mind when we go around the table Thursday.

  • I’m thankful for Fiber One protein bars, because they are my breakfast every day and last me through the many hours when I can’t eat because I am in class or on the way to class or at work or scrambling to write essays.
  • I’m thankful for cancelled classes, because then I can do assignments during them — the exact same thing I do normally — except without earning an absence for it.
  • I’m thankful for the Timehop app, because it allows me to realize just how abhorrent I used to be and to at least somewhat appreciate who I am now as a suffering adult.
  • I’m thankful for the growing media, because without them I would not be constantly overstimulated and might be able to focus for long enough to actually work on papers for more than ten minutes at a time. (This is a positive thing because productivity proves you are only a cog in the machine.)
  • I’m thankful for my tendency towards procrastination, because without it I wouldn’t have been able to force my body to operate on naps alone in order to give myself more time awake to work on my assignments.
  • I’m thankful for raisins and lemon-flavored things, because without them I would not have food to dislike and it seems a little overzealous to claim you’d eat anything.
  • I’m thankful for water, because I know that if I actually drank as much as I’m supposed to it would probably help my skin, and I think that’s really nice.
  • I’m thankful for bees, because they are honestly keeping us all alive and not enough people are thankful for bees.
  • I’m thankful for my cat, because even though by this time of night she isn’t allowed in my room as she is rambunctious and I am trying to focus on many things that I will get graded on that will determine how well I am set for the future, she is very beautiful and takes lots of naps and sighs a lot and I can relate.
  • I’m thankful for boys, because if I didn’t specifically mention them they would probably ask why not and explain to me that I am what’s wrong with feminism.
  • I’m thankful for college, because while I know more than when I started I also know that there is much more to know and of that I know very, very little.

And with that, I have another blog post and a seven-page research paper on state policy to write. This wasn’t as much of a pick-me-up as I’d hoped.

On finding little joys in Tuesdays

Nothing of particular significance happened today — not that it really ever does with how routine my life has to be until I graduate — but little things added up to make it a good day.

This morning, I remembered that I owned green pants that were shoved in the back of my drawer from when it was still warm at the beginning of the semester, and finding them meant that I could finally wear my jean jacket without clashing with actual jean pants. “This isn’t the 90’s, and you’re not Justin Timberlake,” as my roommate would put it.

However, I will forever regret not growing up as a teenager in the 90’s when jean jackets were a thing and music festivals were about music and not how trendy you could make your of-the-earth outfits look on Instagram; we talk about being 90’s kids, but I think we missed the window by a few years. I barely remember Wonderballs, and often wonder if they’re implanted memories by whoever controls the simulator that is one explanation of the Fermi Paradox. Which should be a discussion left for my probable existential crisis post.

My tests and projects and papers and subsequent stress, poor eating, and lack of sleep have subsided, which means my face is clearing up — so I felt good. I liked existing today.

That sounded more dismal than I meant it to. But you know those days you just don’t want to leave the house and see people and have people see you because society has deemed a woman’s worth as how much she turns men on? Gross, I know — they’re really not worth it. But I haven’t felt great for a few weeks now and today was just. Good. I felt good.

I heard my roommate leave the apartment before me in the morning, but still caught the same bus as her, so that was sortof a personal triumph.

I had a politics exam (POLI 101 — shouldn’t be too hard, you’d think, but it’s super not my forte) first thing upon arriving on campus, but had to grab a scantron and a blue book from Student Stores — there was no line, and nobody behind me making me feel like I had to rush and get out of the way and tuck my wallet and papers haphazardly into my backpack as quickly as I could to accommodate them. That was nice.

And I actually knew how to go about answering the essay question on my POLI exam! Amazing! Good work!

My other classes flowed smoothly, and though the day was long — extra long, as I had to see a film for a class at 6:30 p.m. that didn’t end until around 8:30 — it was beautiful, and kind to me. No harsh sunlight, no biting winds; a perfectly heavy, soothing fall day.

I know it was a Tuesday, but for once I really wouldn’t mind another.