Argh

So one of the really unfortunate things about my personality is that I am basically incapable of making binary decisions. If I ever have to pick between two similar kinds of shirts or shoes I literally stare at both of them for an hour, and then almost always end up just buying both and then hating myself for buying so much crap. Obviously I always pick a favorite in the end, and the sad, second-place piece is left to fend for itself in the back of my closet, but there is no way to predict at all which one that will be.

There are two classes that I really want to take next semester, and I have spent the last several hours (sadly not an exaggeration at all) literally just flipping back and forth from syllabus to syllabus trying to decide which one to take. They're both sexy and stimulating. They're both chock full of wonderful and improbable coincidences. They're both only being offered only once in a blue moon... And they're both on Monday and Wednesday afternoons between 2 and 3.

Of course my snooty college doesn't recognize that 100% class attendance is totally unnecessary (and if you're me, doesn't even happen more than half of the time) so I've been told a petition will probably fail. This is quite possibly one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make. I wish I were kidding.

VS

Nature

Rhino: Dude, I'm telling you. They abducted me, flew me far, far away, and performed a variety of strange tests on me in my sleep in their large, metallic bases. They've planted a small device in my horn- I think it's to track me. They could be coming back for us at any minute! Run! They're coming! They're Coming!


Other Rhinos: Schitzo...




I gotta say though- I'm not sure how I feel about all of the efforts in existance to help 'save' endangered species. Are we fighting a futile fight? And yes we mean well in helping the species as a whole, but think about the individual animals. How would you like being abducted and relocated into a new home halfway around the continent? Away from your family and friend Rhinos? No wonder some animals don't breed well in captivity. Maybe they're just depressed and don't want to subject their kids to it.


Fun Fact: a large group of Rhinos is referred to as a "crash"

Fun Fact: Almost a month off of the internet and I come back blogging about Rhinos. Wow.

< /Lull >

So I've been playing Neverwinter Nights basically nonstop after work for the past week (comparison to WoW coming at some point...maybe) when once again a technical nuisance from the gods forced me to quit and reinvest my liesure time back in the real world. (though I'm also looking forward to getting more than six hours of sleep tonight, damn video games.)

Anyway, I was reading through Gavrich's new blog/tumblr/facebook hybrid...thing and figured I should probably throw a bone to all 2.5 readers I probably have left.

So I'm going to talk about.... Dudes. Yes that's always a good one. Dudes.


The truth is, everything your mother told you about men is a lie. Namely this phrase:

"Men are sleazeballs and a guy will say absolutley anything just to get in your pants"

See, our mothers came of age in the 1970s. I wasn't alive back then, and for all I know maybe nothing's changed at all, but here is my analysis: In history class, we're taught that while the 70's 'looked' very much like the 60's, they lacked the genuine desire for cultural change and world peace. In other words, people weren't getting high to "expand their conciousness," they were just doing it for shits and giggles. By this time, I think, dudes had forsaken the "Free Love" ideals of the Sixties, but were by no means beyond taking advantage of the results of the movement to score with anyone they wanted to sleep with. The development of the pill had finally given women some control over contraception use, making it even easier and more satisfying for everyone to sleep around (even condom free...until they discovered HIV). And let's face it, every popculture rendition of the decade today basically portrays it as a giant, coke-induced orgy. While one would think that this would lead to sleazyness on both sides of genome (and in many ways it did), older overarching ideas were still strongly influential. Women could work in almost whatever field they wanted, but kicking through the glass ceiling of promotions and responsibility was another question all together. They were still freshly escaping life as merely their husband's wives, and in many ways lacked the simple respect as equals that they are given today. I'm not saying that every man who dated during the 1970s was a douchebag- but if he wanted to be, he could certainly get away with it.

Enter nowadays- Obviously people have lied to get laid. You've surely read the TFLN "I haven't gotten laid so easily since I told a girl I had cancer" and in one memorable episode of Sex and the City, Miranda (a top notch lawyer) claims to be a stewardess. I'm not going to deny that there are a fair share of sleazeballs out there, But two major things have changed. For starters, we have. While girls of the 70s were raised in the shiny suburbs of the 50s to expect perfect loving marriages and Norman Rockwell-esque turkey dinners (after they got their degree, of course), we've been raised with rape-reports almost nightly on the news (probably not PC enough for the fifties crowd?) and explicitly and frequently told to never to be too trusting in the opposite sex. Where our mothers were dissapointed, perhaps, we're not all that surprised. Over twenty or so years of this has actually (and somewhat ironically) created a stigma around Men. Upon hearing of a straight guy majoring in SWAG, my initial thought was "He is so just doing that to get laid." A friend of mine once had a guy friend who hit on her alot when he was drunk. She thought he was just drunkenly after sex and made nothing of it (like any girl nowadays would). One day he got so frustrated with her lack of serious response that he got angry, and months later she learned he was actually really into her. Obviously Beer Goggles exist, and this story is maybe more the exception than the rule, but it's undeniable that guys today do have to go just that much farther to literally 'prove' that they are genuine about something or someone, and don't just have base ulterior motives. The first time a guy ever said he had strong feelings for me, I basically said something along the lines of "No, you're probably just confusing this with my DDD breasts." (maybe a little harsh, but hey, I was 14.) Infact, with this stigma so prominent in society, it's not unusual for guys to complain about it, and even go the extra mile to be nice and considerate just to prove it wrong. (Though not to be confused with "Playing the sensitive card.")

And then there's the second factor- women as stronger peers. Now more than ever, men and women form solid and meaningful platonic friendships in coed groups. While single sex friend groups make it easier to objectify, and be generally be more reckless in, encounters with the opposite sex, a coed friend group sets a standard of decency that applies equally to everyone. Girls might not want their guy friends and coworkers to think they're a slut, and guys don't want their female friends and coworkers to think they're too much of a sleaze. Obviously many people of either gender will still be friends with someone regardless of how awefully they treat their 'conquests,' but the influence can still be pretty strong and does have an effect on society as a whole.

and here's another myth:

"As a woman, you will automatically develop strong feelings for the first person you have sex with."

The problem with that logic is it's actually circular. True, in women's brains sex is said to release large amounts of 'bonding' hormones, but is it enough to literally act as a love potion for any guy lucky (?) enough to hit home first? And is it to the same degree for all women? I suppose in my case it was...for a whole 24 hours. Yup, for 24 hours I thought it'd be pretty neato if we actually got to know each other. That's it.

This is how I think the myth started. For most people, the first person you have sex with is someone cared about to begin with, or at least is better than the average hook up. After all, they've "merited" your virginity, so clearly could not have been all that aweful to begin with. If you have sex with the first person you fall in love with, then it's probably the loss of "love virginity" (for lack of a better word) that keeps you attached, not the physical act. And as for the random hook-up method of deflowering (inwhich case maybe they weren't too special to begin with) I don't think that ever lead to one person overnight having serious feelings for another. If the former virgin is really ecstatic about a second encounter, then chances are they just want to have sex again...



And while I'm apparently on a fucking roll, let's analyze something else about people that's always confused me.

"The One Time Deal."

I was watching the most recent episode of The Guild the other day, where The-Douchebag-Antagonist-Played-By-Will-Wheaton (of course) tells Codex that the sex was great, but he only does one time deals. To me, an assertive "it was good but I'd prefer it not happen again" after a fling with someone you have nothing to lose with has always been a masked insult. Sex is good. Sex with other, real people is sometimes dissapointing, but often even better. If the sex was genuinely good, and if since said sex you've learned nothing about them to make them less appealing, and if the relationship is not exclusive, why not? Why so surely and immidiatley set on never repeating the incident no matter what life throws at you? There is no reason. Actually there are a few exceptions to this,* but outside of those I simply do not understand turning down a good thing so long as it continues to be good. The only possible conclusion is that you really just were kinda bad...

*The Exceptions:

1. Guilt. 'It was great but illicit and I feel really bad about cheating and want to put in a genuine effort not to"

2. Someone else. 'it was really enjoyable, but there is someone else who I'm banging who's even better, so they win the booty call award'. This doesn't even fully merit a permanent defacto rejection though, if you ask me, as it could easily become 'I'll put you on the backburner if this falls through.' A variant on this is also Stud. As in 'so many people clamour for my body that I literally have a new awesome person every time I want to fuck.' But I honestly don't think anyone outside of Hollywood gets that much sex. And if they do...well fuck you. And you should probably get tested.

3. Beer Goggles. 'You were really hot after that 8th tequila shot but this morning I'm just not feeling it' Then again, this isn't even a logically permanent rejection either, because you'll probably be up for it next time you have another eight tequila shots.

4. Vacation sex




So much for getting more than six hours of sleep...

Meta

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. )