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So as you can see it's been a pretty slow summer in terms of blogging inspiration. I'm hoping things will turn around, and this isn't an indication that even I too am eventually fated to stop blogging all together. Then again, as the increasing personal desire for 'better' content morphs into the question "what exactly makes for good blogging?" and is then compounded with a dwindle in traditional readership and shift over to new (not much larger) audiences, I also can't help but just wonder "What's the point?"

So fuck it, I'm just going to talk about My Boys. Jim Gaffigan left the cast and I am deeply annoyed. Even worse, I am annoyed at the writers for coming up with such an extremely and utterly retarded way of explaining his absence on the show. Rural China!? Really?

1.) The entire reason that Andy quit his old job and took up a new one he wasn't as passionate about was so that he could live in the City and be closer to his friends. Why then, would a promotion in said uninteresting but well paying job that involves moving to China be appealing?

2.) It's said that this 'promotion' actually involves a pay cut, so even more of a reason for it not to make sense.

3.) Andy has a wife and children who basically make all of his life decisions for him. Why would they agree to move to rural China? Can international, english-speaking schools even be found in Rural China, as opposed to a metropolitan center?

4.) Why is a Corporate Lawyer needed in rural China? Why would American law even be relevant in rural China? At least say he's working with the international headquarters in some city like Tokyo.

5.) In the latter episodes leading up to the fourth season, a major plot arc was the possibility of Andy and his family moving to the outer suburbs, basically ensuring he would barely ever seen anyone on the show again. The house he was going to live in turned out to be uninhabitable due to mold, however, preventing the move. Why not just find a new house and move to the suburbs after all? That would have made perfect sense!!!

Oh, and putting someone who has based their entire life off of good rock music in a Good Charlotte shirt? That's almost even more unbelievable.




I know the second Sex and the City movie was clearly contrived in an afternoon but this is almost worse.

Sweep This

Ever since I actually figured out how to play the Minesweeper game that has come free on every Microsoft operating system since the dawn of time (AKA 1995) it has become an all time favorite pastime. There's something oddly entertaining and relaxing about applying more or less the same mental algorithm to each square and occasionally extrapolating with higher logic and probability for hours at a time. (I clearly need better taste in computer games, I know)

But here is my complaint- Minsweeper is arguably a lot harder to play than simple Solitare (the classic "I'm bored at the office" backup for millions of people). But when you beat Solitare, you are rewarded by an awesome, trippy show of bouncing and self-duplicating cards. What do you get when you win a game of minesweeper? Sunglasses. Yes, the little smiley face button (why is it a smiley face anyway? What does that have to do with explosives?) gets a pair of sunglasses. That's IT. And the worst bit? Solitare is ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE to lose, whereas winning a 30x30 game of minesweeper (the largest setting my netbook seems to be able to handle) happens only once in a blue moon.

It's just not right....

Oh, and I'm also convinced that good Minesweeper skills ultimately lead to good H NMR skills. So no, not a waste of time at work, not at all.

Confessions

This is probably a little personal for a blog post, but I'm intrigued to see what other people think about it.

Once upon a time, when I was about 12 or so, I was having a conversation with a friend's mom and a little voice in the back of my head wondered "What would happen if I just randomly punched her in the face?" I had absolutely no desire or reason to do this, but for some reason at that moment the thought and its likely uber awkward aftermath just strongly occured to me.

Though these kinds of random and inexplicable thoughts don't plague me too often (or at least didn't for the longest time) I'm slowly coming to learn that I was actually pretty lucky back then. You see, when I was growing up, I was pretty (perhaps too much, even) assured in myself and my actions. Save a few rare exceptions, I was always more or less in control of everything that went through my mind and how I reacted to it, and it was all pretty logical. Furthermore, If I wanted to do something, I did it, and external forces were usually the only problems I had to overcome. Unlike many other people my age, I was never hindered by major insecurities about body image, 'fitting in,' eating disorders, sexuality (though that did come later), or a whole host of other things that probably contributed to making some people I knew at the time legitimatley suicidal.

But back to the 12 year-old punching anecdote. Sometimes I wonder what would have happen had I actually told a psychiatrist about this. Would they have been concerned? Would I have found myself in years of therapy when really I still would have been perfectly healthy otherwise? If everyone was put on a shrink's couch long enough, and forced to recount every single intimate thought that had ever occurred to them, would anyone be normal?

I doubt it. The more people I talk to about the past, the more I learn about the problems I never knew they were dealing with. Furthermore, as I get older, and more self aware, and gain more life experiences, I am coming to terms with the fact that no one can really be in control of everything 100% of the time. Infact, there are a lot of parts about ourselves: what makes us laugh, what turns us on, the way we think, the random thoughts that occur to us, emotional reactions, sometimes even just the mood we're in, that we really have no control over. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems like it's just simply a part of the human condition.

When I was in highschool, I developed a mild tendency towards anxiety and hypochondria (for both physical and mental illnesses) that stays with me to this day. As much as I can calm myself and reassure myself that I'm being silly, It's still pretty annoying and causes me lots of stress for no reason. It's probably one of the first times I've ever had to say to myself "I really wish I wasn't like that" but really all I can do is accept it and try to deal with it as best I can. Twice in my life as well, I have been randomly, spontaneously repulsed by something entirely innocent that I would normally even like at any other moment in time. Weird, but true.

They say that the true key to happiness is to know yourself, accept yourself, and love yourself. Call me crazy, but I guess I never really knew what they meant until I realized that, oddly enough, 'yourself' isn't always as simple as what 'you' would like it to be.

...I wonder if Cavemen had to deal with this?

Notes From The Other Side

The other day the odometer on my car hit 11,111 miles. It was pretty cool. But that is not why I am blogging today. I am blogging because, like a few other peers of mine at this point, I have seen the other side, and I feel the need to report back. What other side? I am of course referring to the deep, dark, scary, mystery that is "life after graduation."

See, oddly enough, I ended up spending most of my junior year (and likely, it now seems, the summer following it) hanging out with a bunch of grad school dudes. I've been living in independently owned apartment complexes, doing my own grocery shopping and cooking, getting booze almost whenever I want, and generally getting a taste for life once "make your own class schedule" becomes more or less "9-5."

This is what you can expect:

1. While weekends will still remain the key time for mass alcohol consumption, lack of homework is also conducive to light drinking on a daily basis. Start early, crash around 12, and just don't be too hung over to go to work the next day. I especially recommend pub Quiz Nights.

2. While many envision the 9-5 workplace as a drab, soulless, cubicle-filled, grey abyss, it can also be a source for vast social networking and drama. Pick carefully.

3. Age is no longer really relevant. With labels like "freshman" and "sophomore" removed, and with differences between certain age groups following the logarithmic progression that they do (eg: the difference between a 15 year old and a 20 year old is tremendous, while the difference between a 20 year old and a 25 year old is very subtle) , I've started to consider anyone up until the age of 30 my peer. Though most of the time I find that 28 and 29 year olds can still be pretty fun, I do run across the occasional "hey, you remind me of my friend's dad when I was five!" That's just fricken weird.

4. Those hoping to escape the typical 9-5 for as long as possible have one clear option: grad school. While government and humanities students will likely get their share in internships, science students clearly have found the closest thing around to the fountain of youth. While most work 9-5 to get in the right amount of time, the people are chill, the hours are more or less flexible, and the lab has basically no dress code. (Lab safety, pshh...). It's not exactly the chic, sexy city job I always envisioned, but it's an option.

5. Believe it or not, dating gets harder, a lot harder. I'm not complaining, but it's hard to ignore the fact that almost every person I've met is either in a long-term serious relationship or (gasp!) married. (The exception being one guy who is probably asexual.) While I was always raised to believe that your 20s were for playing the field and being young and slutty, apparently I was deeply mistaken. Apparently if you haven't found them by the time you hit your mid 20's, good luck with that. Yesterday I met a couple who has been dating since they were 16. He is finishing up a 5-7 year Doctoral degree this year. I didn't know that was even physically possible....

Conclusion? I miss college. I mean having my own place is great, and not having homework or too much to really stress about is great, and the existence of my choice of frozen, pre-prepared meals is great (unlike in Switzerland, by the way), but I still really miss college. Namely being cooked for, and being able to drink as much as I want and not worry about driving, and sunlit, golden autumn leaves wafting over the long shadows of the old, red-brick buildings in the shape of a cozy quad.

Senior year, get ready, you will be rocked for all you are worth.

(Oh, And sorry about the blogging lull. I don't get internet at home so I'm trying to see how long I can go without caving and shelling out for it. )