I'm only about 60% done with it, but this book is the best I've read since Neuromancer and/or Slaughterhouse-5 (I read them both around five years ago). It is really incredible that it is fiction because the story is so real and vibrant that it feels like it must have actually happened. Absolutely no surprise that it won the Pulitzer. I'm tearing through it.
Pick it up!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Disquiet
The best word that I have ever found to describe my current state is Disquiet. It is from the title of a book, The Book of Disquiet, by an apparently unknown Portuguese poet named Fernando Pessoa. I bought this book a few weeks before I began dating the girl from the previous post, after having told her months before that I couldn't be just friends and then removed her from my life. I have yet to finish this book. I keep picking it up during times like this, and then dropping it when I yank myself out of my oblivion of self-introspection.
Disquiet is not quiet, yet it is not unquiet. To me, it means a low, almost imperceptible sound, heard in the background, that alerts one that something is not quite right in the world. The disquiet I hear, in my mind, is the sound resonating in the gap between who I am, where I am, what I am and the person that I pretend to be, both to myself and others. The last few years of my life has consisted of my (pathetic? Sometimes.) attempts to close that gap, to feel right with how things are and will be.
I acknowledge that I can not control the world; my dad said to me once that the absolute maximum you can control is the circle whose circumference is drawn by your fingertips as you spin around in place, with your arms outstretched. I think that's very true.
I hope my next great leap, into Medical School, make my world a little better. I think that it will, but who knows?
Frustratingly, when I am honest with myself, I believe that my sense of Disquiet will become inaudible only when I find The Girl. It could be that everyone is built like that. Only time will tell, I suppose.
Disquiet is not quiet, yet it is not unquiet. To me, it means a low, almost imperceptible sound, heard in the background, that alerts one that something is not quite right in the world. The disquiet I hear, in my mind, is the sound resonating in the gap between who I am, where I am, what I am and the person that I pretend to be, both to myself and others. The last few years of my life has consisted of my (pathetic? Sometimes.) attempts to close that gap, to feel right with how things are and will be.
I acknowledge that I can not control the world; my dad said to me once that the absolute maximum you can control is the circle whose circumference is drawn by your fingertips as you spin around in place, with your arms outstretched. I think that's very true.
I hope my next great leap, into Medical School, make my world a little better. I think that it will, but who knows?
Frustratingly, when I am honest with myself, I believe that my sense of Disquiet will become inaudible only when I find The Girl. It could be that everyone is built like that. Only time will tell, I suppose.
The Past finds me due to weather problems in Philadelphia
Had a great vacation in Naples. It was good to see old friends and thaw. I hate returning and having to warm my hands every few minutes just to type out a blog post.
My return trip to KC was delayed in the Tampa airport. This delay precipitated a stunning "blast from my past."
While walking to use the restrooms before the airplane finally boarded, I think, *think*, I saw my ex-girlfriend sitting at another gate. Aided by a malaise of aimlessness during my senior year, a lack of social life brought about by studying, writing, applying, and interviewing for Medical School for about fourteen months, an unhappiness with my current job, and a feeling of fait-accompli with my life in Kansas City, I've yet to enter a serious relationship since that (THAT) relationship ended. I guess that has given me a half-sense of never being "over" her.
What is really frustrating is that, as I always do, I chose to walk away from the opportunity to 1) verify that it really was her (I only saw this girl from about 30yards away and noticed that she was flying to the home of the aforementioned ex) and 2) to be friendly and maybe even stop feeling angry/sad/confused/other teenage angsts about the whole affair. I have no interest in dating this girl again, but now, here I am, wondering if I was crazy to pass up the chance to say goodbye civilly. If it even was her. Crazy.
My return trip to KC was delayed in the Tampa airport. This delay precipitated a stunning "blast from my past."
While walking to use the restrooms before the airplane finally boarded, I think, *think*, I saw my ex-girlfriend sitting at another gate. Aided by a malaise of aimlessness during my senior year, a lack of social life brought about by studying, writing, applying, and interviewing for Medical School for about fourteen months, an unhappiness with my current job, and a feeling of fait-accompli with my life in Kansas City, I've yet to enter a serious relationship since that (THAT) relationship ended. I guess that has given me a half-sense of never being "over" her.
What is really frustrating is that, as I always do, I chose to walk away from the opportunity to 1) verify that it really was her (I only saw this girl from about 30yards away and noticed that she was flying to the home of the aforementioned ex) and 2) to be friendly and maybe even stop feeling angry/sad/confused/other teenage angsts about the whole affair. I have no interest in dating this girl again, but now, here I am, wondering if I was crazy to pass up the chance to say goodbye civilly. If it even was her. Crazy.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
News Flash
Thank you, science.
Gems from this article:
"[...] in men, the brain areas associated with handling tools and the intention to perform actions light up when viewing images of women in bikinis."
(Middle school humor) Gee, I wonder which tools the men were thinking of handling. Tee-hee.
"Men also remember [bodies of women in bikinis] better that those of fully-clothed women"
(Dreamy voice) Fascinating.
" [...] the research suggests that viewing certain images is not appropriate in the workplace."
Again, groundbreaking...
The best one:
"Many men make foolish choices because of sexual attraction."
Thank goodness we have these researchers. I have no idea any of us would have come to this conclusion if we had simply looked at, say, the past five thousand years of human civilization.
I'll get of my sarcasm-horse here, and get on my rhetorical question-horse: Do we really need to be paying people to make studies like this?
Power of Mom
So, I had a discussion with my Mother about my very first blog post. She thought my usage of the phrase "Jesus H. Christ" was insulting to Christians and/or Christianity. I certainly was not trying to use it in such a fashion. I may not be religious but I have nothing but respect for faiths and the faithful. I guess that it is just a sentiment for which I don't feel a need (, yet? who knows). In any case, if any one took offense, I'm very sorry.
It is surely a testament to the tremendous power of mother's disapproval (at least on a first born child) that I felt tremendously guilty - guilty enough to apologize on my blog, MY blog! So, women, use your powers of motherhood wisely, please.
I love you, Mom ;)
By the way, my friend Mark found an explanation as to why people (not just me!) use H. as a middle initial. So, there you go...
Monday, February 16, 2009
New Title Bar
It's not long enough, and I have to fix those borders around the Gator symbol and text, but for a technologically and artistically inept person, that's not a bad start.
Adieu
Adieu
C19-H28-O2
Just finished watching a somewhat interesting documentary on Testosterone. I think most people know that men have more than women, that high levels are usually associated with sexual and physical aggression, and that its levels go up and down throughout both male and female lives. However, a few things that I did learn:
1. There is a well supported theory that the level of testosterone that a child is exposed to in utero affects the second to fourth digit ratio. People who had higher levels of natal testosterone exposure have, stastically, a smaller second to fourth digit ratio. In other words, their ring fingers are longer than their pointer fingers. Following up on that idea led me to this article.
I'm not a big fan of basing intelligence and scholastic competence solely on SAT scores, but I will certainly acknowledge that there is a correlation. Smart people do better on those tests that non-smart people, despite all of the cultural and social inconsistencies inherit in the creation of the test.
Due to my undoubtedly testosterone-fueled ultra-competitive nature, I am quite happy to announce that my ring fingers are longer than my pointer fingers. I do however notice, that my left pointer finger is slightly shorter than my right pointer finger. I wonder what that means, if anything?
2. Testosterone levels in men decline once they get married. And more so once they have children. The theoretical guess to explain that is that committing to a relationship (marriage used to mean that) allows the male to redirect his energy and resources towards other goals than the mating competition.
The documentary either did not specify or I have already forgot what happens when men meet "the girl." I would think that testosterone levels would rise to make the man more competitive in order to get the girl.
3. Testosterone levels begin to rise in married men one year prior to divorce! So which comes first, the chicken or the egg?
4. I think that I had already heard this before, but maybe not: women nearer ovulation tend to find more attractive the faces of men with higher base levels of testosterone. Outside of that week-ish window, they prefer slightly more feminine faces. Hmm...
Well there you have it, my contribution to world knowledge. All I can say is, you're welcome.
1. There is a well supported theory that the level of testosterone that a child is exposed to in utero affects the second to fourth digit ratio. People who had higher levels of natal testosterone exposure have, stastically, a smaller second to fourth digit ratio. In other words, their ring fingers are longer than their pointer fingers. Following up on that idea led me to this article.
I'm not a big fan of basing intelligence and scholastic competence solely on SAT scores, but I will certainly acknowledge that there is a correlation. Smart people do better on those tests that non-smart people, despite all of the cultural and social inconsistencies inherit in the creation of the test.
Due to my undoubtedly testosterone-fueled ultra-competitive nature, I am quite happy to announce that my ring fingers are longer than my pointer fingers. I do however notice, that my left pointer finger is slightly shorter than my right pointer finger. I wonder what that means, if anything?
2. Testosterone levels in men decline once they get married. And more so once they have children. The theoretical guess to explain that is that committing to a relationship (marriage used to mean that) allows the male to redirect his energy and resources towards other goals than the mating competition.
The documentary either did not specify or I have already forgot what happens when men meet "the girl." I would think that testosterone levels would rise to make the man more competitive in order to get the girl.
3. Testosterone levels begin to rise in married men one year prior to divorce! So which comes first, the chicken or the egg?
4. I think that I had already heard this before, but maybe not: women nearer ovulation tend to find more attractive the faces of men with higher base levels of testosterone. Outside of that week-ish window, they prefer slightly more feminine faces. Hmm...
Well there you have it, my contribution to world knowledge. All I can say is, you're welcome.
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