ψ*ψ = ∀t ♥(t)

About two years ago (I'm too lazy to hunt down the exact post) I felt torn between my deep, meaningful love for chemistry and my unbridled, passionate attraction to particle physics. I would just like to point out that I am glad to have finally found someone who understands:

As for the title- it's basically the symbolic logic way of saying "forever love"

Apologia

Whenever I wish I could be watching a movie but can't; or feel I've already watched a movie enough times to glean every last bit of joy out of it that I possibly could, I like to look it up on iMDb or wikipedia and see what the rest of the world thinks. And apparently, according to the rest of the world, I have horrible taste.


I don't go to the movies very often, but here are two of my favorite films that came out recently:







I doubt my infatuation with them will last for too long, but I really thought that each had real individual redeeming qualities that deserve mentioning-unlike almost every critic in the western hemisphere.

HJNTIY was amazing. Half way into it, like many of the characters in the movie, I honestly had no idea who was going to end up with who, or even who I should like as a person, but I was on the edge of my seat to find out. It's also the only movie I've seen in the genre where who-likes-who isn't black and white and all-or-nothing, but a more realistic gradient of interest with some people simply ranking higher than others. Yes, the "you're my exception" line near the end made me want to cringe, but the rest of the movie does a good job of avoiding over-the-topness and keeping things both down-to-earth and heartwarming.

Ghosts of Girlfriends Past definitley didn't have the most realistic plot (I kind of gave up on that when, you know, ghosts started appearing), and yes, McCon-naughty is a slimeball surrounded by shockingly obliging sluts. But I did think the relationship between him and the leading lady was very realistic in its complexity: the roots of their feelings towards each other weren't all based on one simple moment or story, but several in a variety of different times and circumstances. And really, who couldn't love the Ghost of Girlfriend's Past herself? If I die young, I would totally look into that job.

But it's true, my DVD collection has been seriously suffering from an overload of mainstream estrogen recently. It needs spunk. Suggestions?

The Anti-Valentine's Day Antidote

Despite having little-to-no religious significance, Valentine's Day is arguably the most polarizing holiday on the planet. Either you are in a happy relationship and enjoying yourself, in an unhappy relationship and pretending to enjoy yourself while being surrounded by other, happier couples, or alone and having it rubbed in from every angle. There is no middle ground. I don't want to totally knock Valentine's day (being a fan of the color scheme and heart-shaped merchandise) but I did think I woud do my readers a favor and provide them with an "Anti-Valentine's Day Antidote" in case they get to feeling really gloomy.

Warning: do not click the following link unless you are actually miserable and alone. Improper use may lead to uncontrollable pessimism and dark thoughts surrounding your current relationship.


http://leloveimage.blogspot.com/


I found out about that blog through a friend of mine, and I couldn't help but read it regularly. At first, most of the stories were all happy, adorable tales of lovers finding each other despite extreme improbability and then going on to live insanely happy lives. But apparently (surprise surprise) these people did not represent a majority of the population (or at least not the majority of the population googling mushy shit on the internet- having probabaly already had their fill.) Over time, the written submissions became more and more deeply depressing. Now, they're mostly about sad rejections, the intense pain of seperation, and people just realizing out of the blue that they no longer love their spouse. Oh, and let's not forget the "he doesn't deserve me" post-breakup-girly-feel-good-crap. Honestly it could be written by middleschoolers. One might ask "If it's such a crappy blog, then why do you still read it, Juicy?" well, for starters I'm a creature of habit, never underestimate that. But more importantly, it's like rubbernecking on the highway, or self-help book titles. It's like a train wreck that you can't look away from. Again, I warn you, click with care.

So there you have it. If you're truly feeling misterable and missing-out on this heart-filled holiday season, then go, read, and realize that relationships aren't at all they're cracked up to be, and that they will probabaly ultimatley fail and result in nothing but stress, misery, and hardship. You can thank me later.

At The Foot of Olympus

Veteran readers of my blog will know that many years ago, as but a wee freshman chemistry minor, I had a dream . This dream was to go to CERN, to intern there, and to somehow be involved in the great going's on at this mecca of particle physics and modern science. I was soon crushed, of course, to learn that CERN would only accept Engineering, Physics, and Computer Science majors in their summer programs; and it seemed that that was the end of it.

Or so I thought. As a sophomore-gone-Chemistry double major, I started looking into Junior Year Abroad programs, and found myself, of all places, in Geneva, Switzerland. By chance, I even managed be in the right place at the right time to get a tour of CERN, and go see Stephen Hawking. A mere public transportation ride to the realm of the Gods, I had to give this a second chance. So I applied for both an administrative and technical internship, and explained in my letter how I felt that a physical chemist might also be a useful addition to the CERN staff, even if they traditionally don't take people from the field at all.

I got a call back for the administrative interview, and so of course the night before I found myself stalking the website. And what was this? Low and behold, the summer program I originally wanted was now advertising availability to physical chemists. When I mentioned it in the interview just out of curiosity, the woman responded "Oh yes, we just threw that on there last week because we didn't want to dissuade physical chemists from applying." You have got to be shitting me.

Long story short, I did not get the administrative internship, nor did I really want it once I heard about the details. I probabaly won't get into the summer program either, seeing as I'm turning in my application late (well, on time according to one website, late according to another two. They really should work on that), but oh well. At least I'll always be able know that I can TOTALLY take credit for this:

Do the PChem

There comes a time in every human being's life when they need to simply throw up their arms and surrender themseles to the greater entropic forces at work in this crazy world of ours (also known as the clausius inequality). From this point onwards (where delta-g is smaller than or equal to zero) every action becomes spontaneous, irreversible, and free. This bizarre degree of freedom (which technically could be quantified as 2U/KbT) is brought about by the simple relization of "Oh good lord guide me, for I art fucked" (something highly exothermic, but that I dont know too much about because I'm not a biologist. Oh, and also a huge nerd.)


Starting right then and there, one embraces the free expansion of their soul (which of course, produces no work) and starts to focus what internal energy they have left into the very vibration of their being (but only at temperatures above 0K). Free of the isochoric, isothermic, isobaric, and adiabatic confines that once controlled their existance, the pressure is off and they can then expand their being to fill whatever former vacuums existed in their life. And like the natural tendency of any process, it's all downhill from there.

(well, for delta-g at least. Your GPA is still pretty much screwed)

New Decade, New Blog

...So Welcome to Red Bull and Chocolate.

(NOT to be confused with this Red Bull and Chocolate, who not only wasted a perfectly good URL on three posts, but who is also clearly a psychopath.)


As for good old MFA, I will always love you, and you will always be findable here.


So sit back, relax, and enjoy "A Whole New Kind of Addiction"... (paying special attention to the nifty, clickable sidebar)

Oh, Canada!

Every spring, multitudes of American college students head north to escape the brutal, oppressive liquor laws of their country. They go towards hope, they go towards dreams, they go... to Canada.

The general consensus? Excellent. Going on vacation to Canada is exactly like going on vacation to Europe, except you only drive several hours instead of flying, and the exchange rate is actually in your favor. Really, cultural novelties, cobblestone streets, quaint pubs, and (in our case) awkward language barriers included. Poutine anyone? I might just never bother crossing the Atlantic again.

Proof

You can't say I didn't warn you...

Oh My Google!

OK, I surrender. No protests, no radical resistance, no guerilla forces. Google has taken over and I accept that. Better yet, I have decided to swear my loyal allegiance to Google here and now, so as to avoid any problems when this becomes mandatory in the far future. Google, I am faithfully yours, there is no need to threaten my family or place dead animals in my bed.


They were clever alright, letting us think that we had control at first. We thought they were helping us with all their useful search engines, then conversion tools, then driving directions, then email, then statistics counters. Soon I suppose there will even be Google fast food restaurants. (Just think: GoogleFood. "Hey, honey I'm hungery, can you google me a burger?") But now we know the truth: They're on top, and resistance is futile.


The proof that Google now posses more power than any other entity on earth? Google Street View. Not only does Google know where you sleep, but it knows where you sleep in 360 degrees. We already have GoogleNews; It's now only a matter of time before "GoogleParty" sprouts up, followed by "GoogleLife."


So remember, if you happen to be doing something that Google might not like and you see one of these:


Run. Just Run.

Free Wireless, Man

In this day and age, I honestly believe it is a crime to charge people extra for wireless internet. It disgusts me that Starbucks, after you've already paid them $4.50 for a drink, insists on charging for internet when so many other enlightened places just give it out for free. These are modern times we live in. It should be complementary- like a shitty continental breakfast, or a hot towl.

What disgusts me even more, however, is when people set up wireless networks at home but then refuse to let anyone else use them. There is nothing more frustrating than being in the range of six or seven wireless networks, only to be dissallowed into every one of them. And to second that, I think it is downright un-neighborly. If I can go to my neighbor's house anytime to borrow a cup of sugar, why not internet? Infact, using their wireless internet is even less of a hassle to them than that. I don't need to go knock at their door, and they definitley don't need to pay for more internet next time they're out shopping to make up for it. Honestly, sharing internet is like sharing air, and does absolutley no harm to anyone involved. One day, when I pay my own bills, I think I am going to purposefully make my internet connection open and available to all. If I need to have some kind of password for the company's sake. then I'll probably name my network something like "The password is password" and act accordingly. The Sixties may have tackled Free Love, but this is clearly our own cultural battle to be fought.



I actually wrote this a week ago but couldn't post it. Guess Why.

The End of Productivity As We Know It

One day, you will find yourself cramming a microwaved dinner down in the six minutes you have left before you resurrect. This is probabaly your 20th resurrection* today, seeing as you've been playing for roughly eight hours straight. You see a server shut down coming up and panic, but then realize this is serendipitous because you also need to shower, and might not have otherwise. This also reminds you that you're excited because The Guild updates soon. Oh, and next time you get a chance, you also need to check out Baldur's Gate II and see if it's actually as good as it's hyped up to be. Finally, As you coincidentally glance down at your xkcd t-shirt, a small part of your brain wonders "What happenned to my life?"

*Speaking of which, Season 4 came out in Switzerland this week. Thank you, random interview with Six in the daily paper. Apparently, she's Canadian!

The Second Best Friend

I have recently had a tremendous epiphany: I am the Second Best Friend.

No really, one day when I was in elementary school, my friend said that I was her best friend and asked me if I was hers. I well-meaningly said no, you're my second best friend, and I have been suffering the karmic retribution ever since.

In pretty much every friendship I've had since then, I was always unfailingly, undoubedtly, and exactly number two. I often enjoyed Best Friend status because number one lived far away or went to a different school or something, but the fact remains. Now I don't want to sound like I'm complaining- oh no, number two is a highly honorable position. In fact, the differences that seperate the Best Friend from the Second Best Friend are infintesimally subtle, the kind that only the Second Best Friend could ever possibly notice, but they're still there. Even today, I've noticed that for every close friend I have, there is always one other person with whom I assume they are closer. This never bothered me, it was simply the status quo.

Come to think of it, I'm not sure if I've ever really had a Best Friend. OK, obviously I've had many in the basic sense, and I've had different friend groups for different things. But I don't think I've ever found one person who managed to encompass all of my bizarre and disjointed interests in a particultarly exciting and intruiging way. In short, I don't think I've ever shared the really outstandingly baller kind of Bestfrendship I've witnessed in some of the pairs I've met recently.


So, I've decided I'm on a quest. I'm now currently accepting applications for a mutually exclusive Bestfriendship. Anyone interested can contact me via the "comments" link below.

Interrobangin'

I turned 20 the other day so I figure blogging about it is pretty necessary. How do I feel? Well, I was having a great day until someone reminded me that, in ten years, I'll be thirty. Actually, I don't feel that old. I'm in age limbo. By teenager standards- yes, I'm grown up and therefore essentially dead to the world. But by adult standards, I can't possibly be any younger. Ultimately, they both kind of cancel each other out, leaving me with the mere shock that my age now starts with a 2. That's the wierd bit.



I recently learned about a new kind of punctuation that Word calls an "Interrobang." It looks like this:


I think that pretty much sums up twenty, in a nutshell.

Pretty in #FFC0CB

I'm not really sure how I feel about pink electronics.


Yes, I know pink is one of my favorite colors.


Yes, I know I should revel in the opportunity that so many things are now available in pink.


But to be honest, it kind of rubs me the wrong way. It's become almost expected in selection choice. What was once "black or white" is now "black, white, or pink." It's the all-too-predictable, looks-savvy, girly option. Where it once took a great feat of passionate and dedicated shopping to find that truly unique, special something in pink; it's now been reduced to the status quo. By purchasing an electronic device in pink, it's almost too clear how well I'm fitting into some (genius) marketing scheme for valley girls, sorrority sisters, and trophy wives. And whatever happenned to all the other dozens of colors in the world anyway? Now a purple computer, that would be something.


But I suppose I shouldn't spend too much time bitching about this. After all, that would render me a horrible hypocrite. Everyone, meet Pinky. She looks something like this:





Pinky is exactly half the size of Sabriel (my main laptop), roughly a third of the weight, and has about 16 times the battery life. (Sadly, I'm not exaggerating). Did I really need a netbook? Couldn't I have just quit my bitching and moaning about back pain, bought a new battery for my laptop, and made do? Maybe. But I'm convinced this thing will somehow exponentially increase my productivity. (Even if it just means I can log onto AE anywhere and get work done in 20-30 minute chunks between construction.) And besides, it's just so damn cute.

Fuck Buddies

(Or "If I'm Ever Asked to Give a Speech Inwhich I Impart Deep, Life-Learned Wisdom upon Youth, This will Surely Be It")

Today I was talking with a friend of mine who was faced with a common decision: should she or should she not make plans to hook up with someone, despite the fact that she had been consistantly sleeping with someone else almost everyday for the past month. While the obvious answer is "yes, why not, you're just sleeping together," it provided me with the opportunity to do some serious thinking about the term "Fuck Buddies" and it lead to some pretty startling revelations.

I have always been an advocate of the great, clean cut simplicity that the term "fuck buddies" or any variation thereof seems to offer. While most people argue that just trying to keep things at that level will ultimatley fail- either resulting in a more meaningful relationship or one person desiring a more meaningful relationship and being sorely dissapointed, I disagree. Call me an idealist, but I honestly believe that it is possible in this world for two people to maintain a steady sexual relationship, and even maybe a simultaneously normal one too, without having things get too messy.

But why do things get messy? I think I've figured it out. You see, even though both parties will gladly acknowledge that they are each others' "fuck buddies" (or booty call, or FWP, or what ever they've decided to call it) and honestly admit to anyone else that they're using the other person to at least a small degree, they would hate to really think the same thing of themselves. It all depends on the way each person looks at it. While most people have no problem with "they're physically attracted to me but for some reason or another have no desire to be in a relationship" (the core basics of your average fuck buddy/FWP/BC situation) they may well have a problem with "When they're really feeling desperate and have run out of all hotter options, that's when they call me up!" or "They have a medical condition where they're just really horny all the time and have to take it out on someone!" (both of which may well be hidden or not-so-hidden details in such a relationship). In sum, It has very little to do with how much you like your fuck buddy, but very much to do with how much you think your fuck buddy likes you.

The key then, to maintaining an ideal and long lasting fuck-buddy relationship, is not nearly as simple as one might think. It requires either a.) a thorough, and at least semi-respectful understanding between two people that may actually not be so easy to find with just anyone, or b.) an intricate and careful manipulation- a balance of feeding the other person's ego just enough so that they'll enjoy sleeping with you and not feel like a tool, but not excessively so that they think you might actually want something more out of the relationship. In the latter sense, the ideal fuck-buddy relationship, therefore, might actually be a surprisingly challenging thing to maintain. Furthermore in the latter case, an ideal and lasting fuck-buddy relationship actually never lets its members see it for what it truly is in too much detail, even if they both well know the basics what's going on.

To conclude, while sex drive is obviously a key factor in perpetuating a fuck-buddy based relationship, ego and self-esteem can actually be just as important.




Hm. Fascinating.

But...Why Mario?!

So recently a friend of mine decided to time how long it took him to get 120 stars in Super Mario 64. Now my interest in video games has peaked significantly compared to around this time last year, but there is one thing I still don't get: Why Mario!?

I mean, if you're looking for really awesome graphic battle scenes this is obviously not the place to find it. The locations are creative and the stars and characters are cute, but that's pretty much it. And if you're looking for an exciting adventure, well, you're probably just going to end up rescuing Peach for the fiftieth time, or following some other random-ass plot like finding a baby that the stork dropped in the wrong spot, or scrubbing up graffiti. I mean really, who comes up with this stuff? How does it actually sell well? And to teenage boys?

And then there's Mario himself- for starters, he's cruel to animals. I mean had he not mistreated his poor little pet ape in the first place then half of the problems he has to deal with wouldn't have even developed. We're all supposed to empathize with him because he's a plumber and supposedly just your average joe, but when you and all of your friends live in castles that really just makes you a total poser. Not to mention you're clearly loaded or where else would you get the money to keep up your immense drug habit. C'mon, all those magic stars and rainbows? the mushroom kingdom? I'm no fool.

Finally, if you're going to risk your life (lives?) to rescue a chick that means one of two things: either a.) you're banging her, or b.) you wish you were banging her. So far Mario has rescued Pauline, Princess Peach, and Princess Daisy. This is my interpretation of events: Pauline was officially his girlfriend so she was clearly putting out and there's no shame in that. Soon afterwards, however, she dissapeared. She was probably sick of being number two to Mario's "just friend" Princess Peach, who has managed to get Mario to come save her pink little tush on a variety of occassions. And for what? A peck on the cheek and some cake? Totally pussywhipped. And then there's Princess Daisy. Ew, really dude? She's with your brother.


Now this* I would pay to see. But until then, I think an explanation is definitley in order.

Oh Peach, you ho...





*Wait... she's has to get the Vibe Sceptor? Uh.. double entendre much? And she fights with her feelings? Screw that. I mean jeez you might aswell at least create some sort of "PMS" wildcard while you're at it.