Sad and Happy

This is a heartbreaking story about a woman who had to have a late term abortion. I couldn't get through the entire article, and started crying in the middle. Those supposed people who would simply have an abortion without a second thought most likely don't exist. Even I, completely pro-choice, disbelieving the "fact" that a cluster of 500 cells is a human being, who never wants to have children, would think long and hard before choosing abortion. It's not just some simple thing that people do.

I've noticed that Joss Whedon has found many ridiculously beautiful unknowns, like the people who played Jenny Calendar, Saffron, Kendra, Kate Lockley, and Rebbecca Lowell(pictured). But the people he casts don't have to be beautiful or conform to certain Hollywood stereotypes.

Also for your consideration:


"But it was all a dream. A creepy, mullet-headed, checkered-shirted dream."


Both are from Jezebel. Warning: Last video links to a lot of other parodies which may cause unwarranted procrastination. Actually, it didn't for me because I'm reading something interesting, but just in case! The "Penny Lane" one has very funny parts, though.

I was thinking about how interesting it would be to study history and literature in the order in which it took place and was written, from Mesopotamia to the Indo-European cultural drift to..well, there is a lot of history, and you get the gist. I wonder how many parallels and conclusions about society you could draw. It's my intent to someday work out a version of this project, though I'm not keen on re-reading the myth discussing how this one god raped this goddess and then had sex with her daughter then had sex with his granddaughter and then his great-granddaughter etc for several generations until someone decided to have revenge on him and made him eat vegetables made from his own semen, so he got ill and the only way to get better was to have sex with the original person he raped. This myth left an impression on my fourteen-year-old mind, and the Mesopotamians wrote some very bloody, vulgar stuff, did you know? Then again, so do some Americans.

Would a review of history, society, art, and literature in this way downplay the individual role in human creativity? I think, on the contrary, it would show how human creativity channeled the forces around it intentionally or otherwise and used imagination to add to culture. Although, it would probably throw the eternal battles of human nature and repetitiveness in perspective. Every time something new has been added to the arsenal defending either side, though, or almost every time. We have the Greeks questioning the nature of language as a tool of communication, then Derrida coming along with deconstruction, and now our beautiful-but-flawed scientific field of linguistics.

I did my housecleaning today, including cleaning out the fridge, which involved a battle with a tall tribe of amazonian mold clusters and several species of gremlins. Actually, it wasn't that bad. I'll clean the bathroom next week, or procrastinate on cleaning it next week. One of these two will happen.

Um. Other things happened, I thought about other things, and I didn't go out. I'll go out later, I promise.

I Want All My Posts to Have Titles

I forgot to comment on how I made up the word "Homerican" in my post the day before yesterday. I know you all laughed at me because I certainly laughed at me. I wonder what the word could define?

I've been experiencing a weird rash of anti-social tendencies. I start conversations then walk away from the computer and have been avoiding people. Part of this is related to the fact that online environments don't particularly meet my social needs anymore. I used to be a large fan, but no longer. This isn't to say that I want to stop talking to my friends on the computer, cause I love you guys and gals..girls...women...people. But I also don't feel like going out and making new friends. Maybe I'll go out tonight, because I have a feeling this is unhealthy. I don't know, surface socialization also isn't doing it for me. I want a deep and interesting discussion.

I had a series of interesting dreams last night. One was about a gonzo reporter working for a generic large company which is about to crash. He works his way up through the ranks, filled with people on drugs with no morals, and gets to the second in command, who's name I can't remember. High on various cocktails, he screams that the President of the company, Ted, was always good at the food business, making something out of starch, and the company was a huge lie waiting to crash. He then asks if the reporter was going to kill him, and the reporter tells him no, but he is going to turn him in, to which the second-in-command replies that if the jury kills him the reporter will have killed him. The reporter suddenly has a change of heart and says that what the jury does is not his fault, but if the reporter makes the second-in-command look like a hero then the jury will be less likely to give him life in prison. The dream ended there. Also, people on drugs looked sort of like the painting, "The Rape of.." I can't remember the Rape of what. Anyways, I blame seeing the cover of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" yesterday for this dream. Hunter S. Thompson apparently ripped out pages of his journal and sent them back to his sports writer boss, who had them published. I think that was also on Cracked.

I had another dream where my parents bought me a house. We were moving things through it and I screamed at my mom to stop listening to Pink's new song "So What" because it reminded me of the end of my relationship with Chris, which made me look like an ass in front of the movers. Anyways, next door was a rich millionaire kid who was 18 and had taken an interest in me. He had a party and invited me over, where we did puzzles and swam in his extremely large pool. The water was the perfect temperature and I skimmed through it with great ease. He obviously *liked* me, kept complimenting me, and wanted me to join his group of extremely tight friends who reminded me of Chelsea's group, with tons of in-jokes and such. I was having a dilemma, because(and this is true in real life) there is only one person I would want to go out with right now, and if he expressed interest I would not want to be tied up in a relationship which I didn't even really want, even though he already turned me down for a date. To clarify, because I think that gives it away, I'm not expecting anything and would be happy with simply friendship from this person, and I am not a big fan of being in a relationship simply to be in a relationship. The boy and were having a play fight after he had invited me over to swim with him for two days, but I decided to leave because of it for real. Even though I was wondering about my decision, the two friends(not real life friends) whom I had come with said that I had made the right choice, as the group expected too much of a time commitment, and one said, "I'm not an everlasting fountain of wit". The boy confronted me and called me a spoiled brat , and I said that was actually what he was, with the amount of time he had to fool around. He left, hurt, and I was sad for the loss of a friend but somewhat relieved that the choice had been made for me. Then my parents and I were finishing setting up my fish room, and I was looking on Ebay for a python to use with the 55 gallon tank.

Though the activities bear a superficial resemblance to things I did with Chris, this boy did not represent anybody I know, though he resembled Dustin. This is strange, because I only ever knew Dustin peripherally, and haven't thought about him..ever.

Also, there was something about being trapped in a museum looking for artifacts with my dad and having to go through the various cultures while body guards and booby traps came to life.

Mad Scientist Marisa

Today I went out to lunch at CPK with Anthony, which was a lot of fun. No whispers about me going out with him, as he's older than I and married. We're off limits for each other the way that Saddam Hussein's bunker was impenetrable for cruise missiles.

PS I completely agree with the article "6 Sci-Fi movie conventions(That Need to Die)", though the authors forgot about "using sound in space". Or in George Lucas's case, using a sonic charge in space. And ships sinking when disarmed, and spouting on fire. In space. Also, I think everyone here will appreciate this article on the "5 Deadly Sci-Fi Gadgets You Can Actually Build". I am going to build a Tesla Coil this summer, although I wish I could build a jetpack. I wonder if there is any way to improve the quality of that laser...
Speaking of lasers, apparently Boeing is building a laser that can be shot from an aircraft 10,000 miles up and is capable of making a hole in a tank. But where will they get the power for their railguns? Also, I'm pretty sure that the automatic robot warrior idea was stolen from "Fallout", and that's what kept killing me when I was invading the second-to-last base haphazardly.

PS did you know that Russia has the highest rate of infidelity in the world, followed by Brazil? Brazil I saw coming, but Russia I did not.

Also, I want some thermite. Don't ask me why, but I have the feeling that a substance that reaches 2500 degrees F when it burns comes in handy at times.

I don't feel like writing anymore, so have a good night everyone!

Closing thoughts

I had a weird experience today. I was in my physical therapy session while the radio was playing, and the station mentioned that it was "such and such a number for San Diego!". I did a double-take, not because I had thought I was in LA, but because this place felt like home to me. And the San Diego they were mentioning, the zoo, the wild animal park, was the San Diego from the conference my mom and dad attended down here before I came to UCSD. It was a strange moment.

It makes me happy that Grecian religion was never simple Classical Homeric tradition, that it has various cults and practices stemming from the Bronze Age. I don't know why, but every time I hear about something like this it seems more like a testament to the creativity and individualism of the human race than anything else.

Backus-Naur form: did they teach this to the linguists?

Oh, all right, I'll write about my day. I had a ton of insomnia followed by this crazy dream where Alexander Jacobson and I were going to high school and college at the same time and had to star in a play for Mrs. Creig, my middle school band teacher. I was in LA and ended up taking the wrong bus, then woke up after my alarm had been going off for fifteen minutes and waking up my neighbors. I wanted a danish but didn't get one. Also, Ben stole Ilya's place. Then everyone talked about lab equipment and I listened, then there were presentations and I listened. Then I saw the 30 pass me by, thought I had forgotten my phone in the lab, realized it was in my bag, missed the 30 again, decided to buy a panini, and missed the 30 a third time. Then I came home and did Marisathings until I went to physical therapy and then I did more Marisathings. Also, this is boring so I'm going to stop writing about it. See? See what you made me do? Pollute my blog with boringness. All your fault.

Bitterness and Jetpacks

"Jetpacks are the ultimate dream of every scientist! Skies filled with ordinary citizens strapped to rockets. "-Phil
"Flying through the air at sixty miles an hour in any direction!"'-Lem
"A lot of people are going to die.."-Lem
-From "Better off Ted" episode "Goodbye, Mr. Chips"

I've always wondered how our spatial perception would change if we were allowed to navigate fully in three dimensions. I also think that it would change the perspective of the generation born with the technology in existence if the technology were created, much like how people born in the age of computers generally have an easier time using them.

People have this weird love-hate relationship with my handwriting. I have gotten comments from "it looks like Arabic script" to "what is this? It's unreadable!". The interesting thing is that I may be ambidextrous, as there are specific tasks that are easier to do with my left than my right hand, and I can write with my left hand like a fifth grader. Now, remember how much training it takes to get a dominant hand to write correctly. Even accounting for the better motor control as an adult, that's pretty good evidence that if I trained my left hand I could use both hands interchangeably.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS NOT DIRECTED AT ANYBODY. THESE ARE PERSONAL MUSINGS, NOT AN ATTACK. I MEAN, I HONESTLY DON'T SEE ANYTHING I WOULD ATTRIBUTE TO ANYBODY READING, BUT JUST IN CASE.
CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPS!!!!

I ensconsed myself in the recovery community for about a year after rehab. But the dreary, depressing AA meetings in smoky church basements made me realize these people lived their lives in the past. They carried their history of addictions around with them like a dead hamster in their pocket. And the hamster was really beginning to smell.

Recovery was a daytime talk show on a grander stage, with particpants shouting back and forth their survival stories of so many years ago. Stories of addiction were no longer stories, but rather they became a means of competition of who had been more addicted. People fabricated ridiculous stories to garner more sympathy from the crowd, and I noticed people even changed their stories over time.

“I lost everything,” a particpant would say. “I went from being a litigation attorney to sharing iceberg lettuce out of a dumpster with a dog.”

Not to be outdone, the next person would offer something like “I sold my daughter to a porn company for two fifths of Jim Beam and a packet of sherm. I got on a moped and crashed into a tree, knocking my girlfriends two front teeth out. Now every time she talks, dogs flock to her.”

With pity filling the room like vodka into a bowl of prom punch, the stories would escalate. “I abandoned my children with a molestor in the Target appliance department, prostituted my own grandmother, and killed a family of migrant workers having a picnic.” It wasn’t sharing, it was gloating.
I confided in a friend that I was leaving the recovery community. He looked at me like I was something he had just picked out of this teeth, but kindly offered a final mantra as I skipped out the door.

“Just remember, you only have to change one thing. Everything.”

That was the only mantra I ever took to heart.

-The Weasel

"The Weasel" shared part of his story about recovering from alcohol and cocaine abuse in his blog. I don't agree with some of his points. For example, the man does not realize what the cycle of abuse is, and I have had a couple people try to use the "giving me a kick in the ass" method to get rid of my depression. It didn't work, and, in fact, scarred me a bit, though the depression was not a life choice I made but rather a biological time-bomb that was triggered by my environment. However, some people may consider it as falling into the same category, which is why I include it as such.

I've been thinking about this quote from Weasel's blog combined with my previous post on post-traumatic embitterment disorder. I used to be very sympathetic to bitter people. Hey, I carried a lot of bitterness myself in the past, though most of it has evaporated, at least regarding events that relate to me personally. I can't stop being bitter for the children in Rwanda, or the endangered iguana that got beaten to death by a drunk, for instance. But I always related my ability to move on, to blame actions on myself and not on my past, to not being through enough pain.
And it's true, I have been extremely lucky. I have been through some bad bad things, but I have had a lot of great things happen to me and great luck in my life. Being monetarily supported through college is something many people could never have.
But at what point does personal responsibility come into play? When do you say that "you're supposed to be an emotionally mature adult, start acting like one"? Sometimes people simply can't move on, and it would be unfair to ask them to do so without help. That's not weakness of character, that's events overwhelming the individual ability to cope with a situation. But other times..how can we, as people separate from the situation, make the distinction?
And there are people who use their stories to negate other's pain. Not that I think anyone living in the lower middle class and up in first-world countries usually have stories that would compare to a Rwandan refuge; that's not the point here. I don't know, I think that people who have suffered pain, real pain, all can sympathize with each other, and a common goal: wipe that pain off the face of the earth. I personally hope that nobody ever has to go through the things which I have, and there are far worse lives than the one I have lived.
I think many people go through at least a phase where want their pain to be special. It required so much effort to go through, and there is a myth in popular culture that the more pain you have suffered, the deeper a person you are. Yes, being touched by a truly traumatic event changes a person and gives them new perspective on life. Perhaps this phenomenon also stems from archetypal spiritual purification, such from the libations of the Hindus to the many interesting inventions of Christians. But I think Buddha had a point when, after starving and whipping and starving and whipping himself, he realized this was madness and sat underneath the Boddha tree. A deep life full of meaning does not mean a life full of pain.

Various Matters

From June 17th to June 21th, monks from Tibet will come to the San Diego Natural History Museum to create a Mandela sand painting in over thirty hours of work. Details are here, and admission into Body Worlds is also discounted in that time period.

Rasputin's eleven-inch supposed penis is on display in St Petersburg. If I get to be traumatized, so do you.

Snuggles is finally eating again! And very insistent on being cuddled.

"Better off Ted" is officially awesome. I was literally laughing out loud for most of the episode.

The second summer session of the Los Angeles Community District has been canceled due to budget cuts. They are actually attempting to dissuade people from registering because the district only gets paid up to certain amount over budget for extra students. The rest is paid out-of-pocket for the colleges themselves. This is a great thing to happen during a recession when many people are going back to school.

Special Edition: A Bus Story

To celebrate the new post on PLFM, I am going to share one of my more traumatizing bus stories.

This is the only day I have ever worn regular shorts: normal khaki shorts, paired with a regular skinny t-shirt; nothing special. Chris and I were on the 761 to UCLA, sleeping on each other's shoulders. Except I was only "sleeping", and still had enough of my eyes open to see what was in front of me. A skeevy old man wearing a weird looking hat whom Chris and I had seen around before inched into the empty seats across from us and took out his cell phone.

Then he took a picture of me.

I immediatley "woke up", and asked, "Sir, did you just take a picture of me?". The man said nothing and retreated. Chris immediatley offers to go *talk* to him but I hiss to do nothing, that it is ok, precisely because it is so very not ok, and I'm afraid that if I confront the man I'll scream and get physical. I felt so violated and dirty. Chris pointed out the man's prison tattoos.

I don't want to know what he does with that picture.

When people ask me why I don't want to modeling, this is a story that I tell them. Besides my other qualms, I would be handing these people my picture. All the creeps, all the weirdos, all the other questionable people of the world could do whatever they wanted with my image.

My other qualm is that models are usually simply being used to sell something.

I, and every other girl, have many more of these stories.

I Used to Love Nancy Drew(and own all the Books)(Edit 7:38pm)

I apologize for all of the spelling errors in yesterday's post.

In more interesting news, there may be a new personality disorder classification soon: post-traumatic embitterment disorder, affecting almost all anti-heroes since 1895. Another thing which makes me upset is the glorification of mental illnesses.

Today is the fortieth anniversary of "Sesame Street". Scrolling down through all the clips in the link, I felt a disconnect. I barely watched television as a child, and though later I watched such classics* as "Sabrina the Teenage Witch", "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air", and "Sister-Sister"(my mom loved "Friends) my time was spent mostly reading books. I never knew the cultural references which the other middle-class kids kept making. Now, after a long period of socialization into pop culture, I can spout out many more references, although I can't say I am a better person for it. I've always been someone who valued critical thinking over name-dropping pseudo-intellectualism, though that is another topic entirely. This reminds me of the time when Ilya and I were watching "The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny" in the lab and he didn't know who Mr. Rogers was. I acted shocked, but shouldn't have-this is the exact same thing which I went through again and again. Generally I would consider myself sensitive to these sorts of things, but in this case I failed spectacularly. I wonder if I should apologize to him? How would you phrase that? "Hey Ilya. I'm not crazy, I swear!...."

*Sarcasm Alert!

Also, could people stop conducting studies on a few individuals who are socialized the same way and pretend to scientifically confirm gender stereotypes?

You know what would be a good invention? A computer screen that emits the spectrum of sunlight.

Beached

My day started at 3:13am this morning when my mom and dad brought Snuggles home from the vet. Apparently his tests came back with normal results, and the cause of his illness was speculated to be either his teeth or a hairball. One of his teeth needs to be pulled and he, as we suspected, has cataracts. Both of these will be attended to by the regular vet on Tuesday or Weds. The emergency vet gave him a solution of electrolytes and stressed that he needed to eat every day for now, but once he was healthy again he had to go on a program of diet and fitness to reduce his weight. The message has finally gotten through to my mom, and I look forward to a new, healthier Snuggles.

I then had a dream about Chris and I trying to get back together and how miserably the attempt failed.

After watching the kittens prance and pounce in the backyard and petting Snuggles goodbye, we headed off to San Diego. Mom kept going over how mellow Snuggles had been at the vet last night. They also were talking about how proud they were of what Christopher has been accomplishing, and, when they thought I was asleep, me. At Petsmart there was a large black cat named Snuggles who looked and acted a bit like him. Dad half-seriously suggested that we take him home.

After they left I browsed the internet for a few minutes and then started out for Black's Beach(Torrey Pines). Andy had invited me to bbq-and-ultimate-frisbee-get-together-thing. The directions I got were shoddy, however, and I ended up getting off the bus early against my better judgment. This was my first time at Black's that didn't involve someone else driving me.

Crazy screaming lady is back again. I can hear her rattling cans.

After getting off the bus I started stubbornly walking in the direction I thought the beach was in. In my olden days I would not have had the gall to simply wander in a direction without giving up and going home. Literature champions large decisions which "show your true character"; less popular are all the little choices showing how your character interacts with everyday life in situations which might seem much bigger than they are when they are taking place. I ended up going through the Salk Institute and witnessing a silent panoramic view by myself in a rare moment of peace. After reaching the site where the handgliders launch , I finally got on the trail to Black's.

I didn't even know I had such a harrowing fear of heights until this one particular spot in the path which looked like a smooth downward curve with no handholds. Usually I throw dignity to the winds when hiking and, if necessary, start using both hands and feet. I started fearfully inching down, wondering if the traction of my sandals would hold me, when a couple came up behind me.
"Scared?" asked the man
"Yes."
"Join us!"
With their moral boost I did not slip and die, although not looking down helped a whole lot. We talked for a little while and I called Andy, who said that at this point I should keep walking south as I was probably on the wrong side of the beach. I was unconcerned, for while at that point I had walked about a mile I was on the beach and enjoying myself. Except for all the naked men-did I mention that Black's is a nudist beach? I saw more *insert your favorite name here* today than I ever wanted to in a lifetime. I figured that I would walk to the main entrance of Torrey Pines and take the bus from there if I couldn't find Andy at that point. And that's how I ended up taking a three-or-more mile stroll on the beach today, which probably added a few years to my lifespan. For part of the walk I was completely alone. There are so many thoughts seething in the water, though none probably as beautiful or as edifying as the clear waves themselves in the here and now. My thoughts wandered, and for a little while I struggled between holding on to the moments and living them. I'm terrified of the day that words will only bring back dying embers of past experiences, but I would rather have lived those fully than spend them remembering the details to write down. Everything from crabs to Chris; making all the little unconscious corners let go of him. They say that the death of a relationship is mourned like the death of a person. For me this was not true; it was a moment in time with both good and bad memories, all of which are over; we touched and then parted. With a person, the person is over, usually for no clear reason other than what we in our puniness can metaphysically attribute.

I had to climb a large rock to get to the other side of the beach. A stranger held my hand for a moment so that I wouldn't fall, though I navigated it surprisingly well on my own. My bag wasn't even there. I dislike handbags, as they feel like a sexist weight which hampers physical activity and fitness. I can't just keep my wallet, keys, and phone in my pants or they would fall down. Speaking of which, this entire time I was wearing shorts and a thin t-shirt over my swimsuit and not freezing to death. I once read that symbolically cold is attributed to individualism, climbing a mountain. Perhaps minute adjustments have been made in my constitution because of my mental state. I personified nature and wondered if the colors and shapes of the cliffs had some deeper, hidden meaning.

Anyways, there is too much to write. I got on the bus and came home with sandy feet, although physical limitations took over and I became numb while walking to my apartment. There will be more opportunities to go out and meet new people(at least I hope), and I had a great Memorial day.

Vent(edited and again edited)

So I was sitting in the teen room musing my musings when I noticed a two-foot tear in one of the curtain panels. This is annoying because when we moved into this house my mom and dad splurged a bit, so these are professionally hung curtains of nice quality, though they were not that expensive in and of themselves. Also, I really like these curtains and don't want them to be changed. Rrrrrrrrrrrr. The panels themselves are most likely discontinued.

Anyways, I can be thankful that this was my worst problem today.

Edit: Nevermind! We were all sitting down to dinner when I became fascinated with a shape that was moving in the backyard. I was trying to figure out what it was, when it moved and it became apparent that it was a dog's face. Specifically, one of the dogs from next door, who are usually very calm, obedient animals but weight twice as much as I do. Anyways, after alerting my parents and the neighbors, we all became embroiled for a couple hours in trying to get the dog out from the tangle of bushes at the side of our backyard. The thorny vines and trees on that side had become neglected and thick to the point where they block the path, so as we speak our neighbors are cutting through them. After half of their household passed through ours, the dog finally decided to leave. The poor girl just gave birth and apparently hurt herself in jumping over. Two large men finally grabbed her and carried her from our backyard.

This actually sort of happened once before to us. Our neighbors in Panorama City got a dog and never took care of it properly. I payed some attention to it and gave it water from our hose, and as a result the dog dug a hole between our yards and knocked over the pump for the pond. We came home from Fedco just in time to save the fish, who at that point included my largest goldfish Big Fat. Yes, her name was Big Fat. These dogs seem well taken care of, so I have no idea why "Betsey" decided to do this.

Edit Edit: Snuggles is sick enough that he needs to go to the emergency care hospital at 11:45pm. I stupidly took my medicine and have to go to sleep because I did. Ok, maybe it wasn't stupid, but my kitty is ill and I want to be with him.

Unwisely Lazy Sunday

Snuggles is sick, most likely from a hairball he can't cough up. The kittens and Gaiylee are becoming more accustomed to human presence. At the moment we are creating various schemes to catch them. Operation: Get a Cool New Coat failed. I will work and then watch "The Simpsons".
Also, my parents have a vendetta against Gaiylee's mate since he attacked Snuggles a few nights ago during one of mom's deacons meetings. My mom ran outside to be greeted by a lot of Snuggle's fur and had to rip through our tomato bushes to finally get him. My dad is especially fervent in his ire against the other cat.

In LA

I have a general rule when it comes to posting anything on the internet: do not post anything I would not want my parents to see. Though I have come close to skirting this rule in the past, it still is a stringent guideline. For example, now that my relationship with Chris is over, I will not reference any romantic feelings on this blog unless it is the start of a relationship.

I didn't post yesterday because I had a migraine when I came home. Maybe I'll post about it later.

Today I got up at 8:15 after having two dreams in which I was robbed. It's hard to creep me out in my apartment, though it is easy to scare me in this house. All of my family half-jokingly swears that our dwelling is haunted because of phantom footsteps, toilets flushing when nobody else is around, and lights and fans turning on and off. Of course, it's more likely we have some faulty wiring and plumbing and the floorboards spring back after a delayed amount of time, but I do have some amount of superstitious belief.

After checking the bus schedule I realized I needed to go in fifteen minutes. I dressed, threw my things together, and rushed down to the bus stop, which I reached about fifteen minutes ironically early without anything in my stomach. I got a delicious panini from a bistro across from the train station that I actually have been craving for some time . This place also has handmade gellato; check it out if you ever have to use Amtrak. I actually didn't get any gellato this time. I love gellato, which is one of my few sweet weaknesses.
I fell asleep on the train after eating to keep my migraine from coming back. After a short wait, I met Clem at Union Station. I love Clem! I'm not just saying that because she requested the link to this blog. We had a nice visit, and Jon graciously drove me to the Laurel Canyon Orange Line station.
I came home, talked to my parents, and looked at the kittens playing in the sun. At that point we went to the mall, where mom and dad bought a mattress. I bought an Orange Julius and visited the pet shop in this time. I was forcefully reminded of Chris by pomerianians and pugs. I wish it were possible to simply throw out the bad in a relationship and keep the good. Right now that reminder has faded: pomeranians and pugs are symbols of the past. Clothing-shopping-wise, apparently, whether or not you dressed indie before, you are going to dress indie now, by force. Or just wear your old clothes, like I'm planning to do. But seriously, when shopping confuses my mother, you've gone too far, fashion industry. I got a new top, dress, and board shorts, at least. There were no cool overcoats, replaced by "breezy, summery, and feminine" styles, but apparently my old pleather overcoat looks a lot better than I remember.
We went to a Thai restaurant near my house and now Christopher is over at our house. Ciao! I hope you all have fun.

"Better off Ted"

So, today I decided to give the new series "Better off Ted" a try, since I had nothing else to watch while doing my workout. I was instantly in love with the show. It seems smart, funny, and stars Portia de Rossi(Hence the picture). It also stars a black man as a mama boy scientist, which is refreshing. The relationships and characters are quirky, and the leading man has a lot of charisma.
The show is about Ted, who leads a Cyberdyne systems-ish corporation who's name I can't remember. All I know is that the video at the beginning parodies the Cyberdine promotional video they show at Universal Studios, among others. Ted is the..I don't remember his official position, either, but he tells the scientists what to do, takes orders from Portia de Rossi, and makes everyone happy.

"Nature attacks and annihilates the pumpkin with powdery little disease, which can be mutated and designed to attack human cell structure, causing enemy soldiers to grow a magnificent, soft, downy coating. And die!"-Dr Baba(sp)
A lot of funny writing in a pilot which does not sound as good without the acting! Seriously, watch:


If you have time after that, check out the reviews on this T-shirt.
"Befuddled and noxious, I was tossing and turning in my bed late last night. I was thinking too much, breathing too heavily. My eyes were still squinted and brow furrowed, darting every which way into dark nothingness. This wasn't the first night. Nor was it the 500th. Every night is like a battle, between me and the pressures of modern civilization.

Where did I go wrong? I had everything I ever wanted: I was soundly resting in red flannel pajamas, hair parted and gelled for convenience in the morning, ceiling fan coolly whispering, "yes, this is a safe place." My job, my family, my lawn... everything was perfect. Too perfect.

I donned my bunny slippers and opened my laptop. I was on a mission, a vision quest if you will, to change my ways. To change my life. To change my shirt. In the words of one great man, "if you change your shirt, you can then change your pants, and if you change your pants, then you can change the world."

The Three Wolf Moon T-Shirt howled to me, inviting me to continue my vision quest and redeem the dreams of that great man. His name? Jobiah. He was missing 6 teeth, said "done good" instead of "did well," and could not drive. I realized: the man with the mullet, the lumberjack on lunch break, the family with the barbed wire fence - they all had something in common! It was all making sense!

But now I sit, in perpetual awe, staring at the add to cart button. Could an average joe like me ever make a difference? What if the world suddenly stops turning? Would we all be propelled into space? Not on my watch... not this time, Three Wolf Moon T-Shirt!!! Daaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!rheBzdghdxgzbdfc"

People

I remember a conversation I had when I was sixteen.
"I hate people", I typed in my instant messenger window.
"So are you a misanthrope?" asked Chris, who was just getting to know me at the time.
"No......"
The conversation went on from there, although I don't remember the rest of my reply. It basically stated that I like individuals but dislike the way groups of people operate.

What? I went out with him for practically three years. Half or more of my current stories include him.

I love individuals. People from all walks of life have so many tales to share, new nuggets of information which I may never have heard in my circle. Whether we be blessed to see the intricacies of the human mind by never being able to objectively view it or are trapped in obvious but invisible boundaries, sharing things from our innermost minds is one of the most satisfying things I can do with another human being. Or, I am biologically programmed to feel that way.

I feel good, strangely over the breakup. Not completely over it, as one might expect, but as if some crucial point has been passed. In fact, I still felt really sick this morning, but this afternoon I feel very good.

So I am curious about something. Sunblock absorbs or scatters UVB and UVA, crucial and large components of sunlight. People who do not get exposure to sunlight risk developing SAD(Seasonal Affective Disorder, although I'm pretty sure they made up the acronym and found a name to fit it). Sunlight is also used by the body to metabolize vitamin D. So while we may be protecting our skin by applying sunblock, are we doing the rest of our body any favors? There are no studies on this that I can find. I mean, preventing direct DNA damage is, of course, important, but I'm curious. This would of course only apply to those who use sunblock religiously.

My spontaneous and casual writing has definitely improved because of this blog. Although, interestingly, when I look back on posts a week later I almost always find errors to correct, no matter how many times I review the initial post.

Ways to Scar an Innocent Mind

So you're sick. A normal, sane person at this point would decide to lie down on his or her bed with a good book, or, in my case, movie, because reading is making my eyes go on spin cycle. But I check my blogger homepage. And look! WWHM has an update!

Since you're not nauseous enough at this point, you decide to click on "18 of the world's most disturbing sex toys". And then you decide, hey, why not follow the link at the bottom to "The 6 Strangest Objects People Have Sex With"? One of the people featured in the latter dug a hole in the ground. And had sex with it. After videotaping himself doing it with street signs.

Pavlov? I think I need a few more electric shocks before I learn to stay away from *bzzzzzt*.

WTF is erotic knifeplay? I..I'll wash but I'll never be clean.

Later edit, from the Onion: Texas Constructs U.S. Border Wall to Keep Out Unwanted Americans:

""The truth is, Americans are just different from us," Turner added. "We don't even speak the same language.""

Glagh

So today started off well. I had some productivity, some cool thoughts.
Then it started going downhill. I couldn't force myself to be productive. I couldn't do anything. I was annoyed, frustrated and upset. I had a headache, and couldn't eat the food I just cooked. I've only been eating a single meal a day for the past couple weeks due to something unrelated.

Then I became suspicious and slapped my thermometer on my forehead. It read 102F.
Oh. Wow. No wonder I feel so crappy. It's kind of disconcerting that I mistook my fever for something normal. Also, my eyes are red.

So right now I'm drinking black bean soup out of a cup and...I dunno.

Sleep?

Untitled

I was outside today, observing a pine tree by my apartment. The needles quivered in the wind with such grace that it was almost like watching music while the tree itself stood out like paint strokes in the dusk. There is as affective an algorithm for calculating this movement as there is for calculating the weather, even though there is an order to it. Cacophonous music.

I saw the sharp divide between the box painting of my apartment, lit up with warm CFLs through the door, and the outside world, the universe stretching outward and beyond. The divider being, of course, the roof.

Who is there to give me a gold start for my accomplishments? Some people would, in fact, denigrate me. There are no smiley faces in a world where we are taught to crave them. I want to rise above the world of smiley faces.

I finished watching the first season of "Pushing Daisies" today. It is a great show that displays creativity and talent, which is why they, of course, canceled it. As I put it back on my shelf I realized that I could finish "Orphans of the Storm" by myself, a movie Chris and I were forever meaning to watch together. And then it all came flooding onto me, that this really was my life, mine, and mine alone now, with no restrictions as to what to watch, with nobody to watch anything with me, with no priorities dictated by another person. And honestly, I'm scared, scared of messing it all up, but glad there is nobody else to blame in the end if I do.

I don't write everything down. Why would I?

Subconciously

Something funny has happened. Heeheehee. The big frog is Trixie, who has been with me over a year. The smaller one is Tiny Frog, who is relatively new.

My mom has been calling me all day to tell me about the kittens, who have finally followed their mother out to eat solid food. There are five adorable fluffballs in our backyard.

I've been thinking about the subtle effects of association that can affect human beings. Jung, among various other people, wrote about this. It's no secret that we form associations between the senses and memories. We can even form connections of association between memories. I'm curious as to how these can be manipulated therapeutically. Rationally, connections can be broken or resisted, but forming these links is part of how the human psyche operates and it is exhausting to be continuously resisting memory. This is part of the reason people "feel like a change" after some dramatic event; they wish to disassociate past events from the current time period. I am sure there is literature on this subject which I am unaware of, but I think getting in touch with and calming that part of the mind directly would be of immense value to patients. I'm not going to get into manipulating the subconscious and symbols and all of that great stuff.

On a different note, the world's richest asshole, brought to you by Gawker.
"To be sure there's plenty of competition for that title, but we think Germany's Prince Marcus von Anhalt (above) has a pretty clear shot at it. Born Marcus Eberhardt in 1969, he started out as a butcher, went into the brothel business, did some time for tax evasion and human trafficking, then bought himself a title (from Zsa Zsa Gabor's husband): Prinz von Anhalt, Herzog zu Sachsen und Westfalen, Graf von Askanien. Now the SOB's latest stunt is driving around in this Rolls-Royce Phantom Drophead Coupe covered in a Louis Vuitton multicolored monogram print....."

Also, there is no way I can justify going to see "Flight of the Conchords", which makes me sad.

Sunny Sunday

I've been treating my aquarium as a garden. I love the environment that I have created and watching creatures interact in it. The only problem is that unlike a real garden, there are very few surprises in it these days. I have no idea where my cherry shrimp or sparkling gouramis went-that's a surprise-but there are no insects crawling out from the dirt, no cats giving birth to kittens, no wildflowers bursting seasonally up from the ground to live a short and beautiful life. I want to add more creatures, but I'm afraid for the balance that has sprung up in my small "ecosystem". Regardless, working with it and watching things come to frutition is very gratifying. I wish I could create a million of these tiny worlds. Working with living creatures, combining my love of observation with the aestheticsm of the arrangements and the science of what makes it all not die but in fact thrive makes me really happy. The Dario darios, goby, Trixie, Dopey, Tiny Frog, nerites and female sunfish are all doing fine. Come to think of it, the shrimp have been with me the length of their usual lifespan, so they may have died of old age. Tiny Frog is a male, and I saw Dopey amplexing Trixie last night. Dopey, Trixie, and Tiny Frog are all African Dwarf Frogs, which is abbreviated as ADFs. I may actually be able to fit killifish into this environment...hmmm.......*maniacal twinkle appears in my eye*

At the moment I technically have no large problems in my life outside my head. While, yes, the three upcoming midterms aren't happymaking, they don't qualify in the same way. My head is getting the message, which also makes me happy.

Also, I will never hate Chris. Many people have shared that their first reaction after breaking up with someone is to demonize them, and I have experienced this myself. I was expecting this, waiting for this to come, but it hasn't and at this point I know it won't. I don't agree with things he's done or some of the opinions/attitudes he has, and I don't want to get back together any time in the foreseeable future, but I genuinely think he is a good person. There are, of course, unanswered questions, but that's ok, I shouldn't expect any less.

SNL! SNL!

"I wanted a guy who did stupid things to make me look smart. Instead, I got the one guy who scares me more than my dad"- Will Ferrell as George Bush

"Hey Seth, don't you think that Manny Ramirez looks like the monster from Predator?"-Will Ferrell as the Ghost of Harry Carey


"...So tell me what you're looking, looking for in a man?"-Ted Nedders
"I like strong arms"-Pretty Lady #1
"Well I got 'em"-Nedders
"I like white teeth"-Pretty Lady #2
"Hey look at 'em"-Nedders
"I like soft skin"-Pretty Lady #3
"I use lotion"-Nedders
"I like can I touuuch"-Dollhands
-From the sketch The Lawrence Welk Show

"I have not known this man for any time. But I would like to say something: Sasquatches are real!"


"I turned out your mother last night!"-"Sean Connery"
"I'm ignoring you"-"Trebek"
"It's a prison term, it means I've got her as a prostitute in my employ "-"Sean Connery"
(Tom Hanks is actually in this skit. Also, this is a MUST SEE)


"Please, no laughter"-Will Ferrell
/Entire audience bursts out laughing
-Will Ferrell's Monologue

Hmmm

I could never be an artist for a living. I write when I wish to and I draw when I need to. Art, for me, comes with inspiration. Yes, I could write a story without first having the spark to write one:

Johnny looked over the desert sands. He had seen a painting once, a painting with a white lamb on green pastures, and he was imagining that his surroundings were cool and sunlight, blurring together like the oil on the canvas. But Johnny's family hunted oil, and herded people. Johnny was not old enough to understand the latter, but he could sense it in the air and the whipped backs of the workers.

Right now my train of thought has been interrupted by the newest crazy lady who recently moved into the neighborhood whom I have seen around my neighborhood while attempting to catch the bus. She is walking down my street and yelling to herself at the moment. I'm not sure that I like her. I feel shaken, for some reason, and afraid to focus again. The last thing I heard her say was "I can see you, you asshole!", though there is little to no chance that the statement was directed at me.

Anyways, right now I want to do math, which is good because I have two midterms this week in the subject.

I'm going to go be vaguely creeped out now and double-check the locks.

Better tank shot

Here we go! Blown up this looks very grainy and not nearly as appealing as the tank actually is, but this picture manages to capture its essence, I think.

Early Afternoon Tea

I feel very good right now. A weight has been lifted from my shoulders and my mind is responding in accord. I'm not out of the woods, not yet, but the progress is extremely encouraging.

I've been thinking about literary theory. The subject is based on the material that came before it and is always changing. It is like science in a way, because careful study and experimentation must be done to determine the basics, although rules are much harder to determine because of the vast generative power of the mind. Different minds also do not follow the same rules and the same mind can follow different sets of rule, or at least that's how I like to think of it. The thought of an overriding generative algorithm scares me, so I admit I have a bias. Thank god for Godel's theorem. I prefer to think of the mind in some ways as a fractal. I wonder what work has been done along that line? I believe I will look it up.

I just found a baby stick bug on my ceiling. I'm going to go and contemplate the implications of that.

Sun God At UCSD:Or How Marisa Didn't Care

So like most tales of my life this one starts off with insomnia, which I had plenty of last night. Apparently, people had decided to start celebrating Sun God early because I was woken up at 3:00 am by giggling girls and boy in addition to my naturally occurring sleeplessness. I woke up at 7:30am, snoozed, then got out of bed and left for the lab meeting. Except that this Friday, there was no lab meeting. After realizing this I headed for the library, encountering a line a million miles long and five people wide. This was the line for armbands to get into Sun God*, which stretched at least half a mile in a conservative estimate. It went from Muir to Warren, if that means anything to you, and was still growing. I decided I was not going to spontaneously join in the celebration(couldn't have anyways, no tickets were left). I spent some time studying and then decided to double-check the non-existence of the lab meeting after trying to call Ilya. It was still not going, so after chatting with Rudolpho a bit I headed back to the library where I played around on my laptop and read The Morphology of the Folktale.

I left the library to go to lunch with Anthony but got a call almost immediately that he had completely forgotten about our get-together today and had to rush to meet his professor. I wasn't upset because these things do happen, and decided to head home at this point. As soon as I had hopped off the bus and the crazy who had taken an interest in me followed, Peter called. I had completely forgotten about our appointment at 2:00pm, so I went straight back up the hill. I decided I didn't want anything to eat and basically wasted the remainder of the hour. As I thought, Peter is gay, FYI. We actually spent a lot of this appointment discussing psychology, attitudes towards homosexuals in our culture and how NAMBLA dragged down the acceptance of gay rights in the 60's, among other things.

The Sun God had at this point long left the UCSD celebration and brought in his wing men, clouds and wind, to cover for him. That didn't stop people from celebrating, as was evidenced everywhere I looked. Usually I am not one to simply dismiss fun if it's harmless, but I really couldn't care less about the celebration at this point. Also, the frat guys who kept bumping fists and yelling "SUN GOD!" were annoying. People were hosing each other down and sliding on a tarp on the Muir quad, and many topless men abounded. Some guys tried to flirt with me and I ran away in fear. I noticed a lot of people looking at me today for whatever reason, perhaps because in a sea of short shorts and skirts I was wearing a sweater and long skirt. Or maybe it was my dashing good looks-let's pretend it was this.

The library was deserted when I went back inside after my tuna melt lunch. Finally, I left campus for my physical therapy appointment, which went well. I chatted with another patient and things were very relaxed. I feel like doing something social this weekend in addition to my work. We will see. Right now my mom is telling me about the striped cat that rubbed on my sandals snuggling with Gaiylee and how much less flighty Gaiylee has become.

*Sun God is a UCSD celebration involving, I quote "three distinct stages, vendor fairs, carnival activities, film, art, and so much more". Here are the bands playing this year(copied and pasted):
The Sun God Festival 2009 Lineup:

N*E*R*D
Iron And Wine
Girl Talk
Motion City Soundtrack
Sara Bareilles
Augustana
The Cool Kids
Grand Ole Party
Rootbeer
DJ Nu-Mark of Jurassic 5
Nosaj Thing
Anavan
Theory of Funkativity

with performance by:
Cirque Berzerk
Upright Citizens Brigade
+ countless student groups TBA!

Suprise@

So in the same turn events that took Chris by surprise, my two dead adult stick insects have turned into many baby stick insects. I'm unsure what to do at this point, as there are obviously many both dead and alive inside. I fed them, but what do you do with an invasive species's offspring? Maybe I should look up a local dealer specializing in stick insects....

Aquarium Update

I don't really feel like typing stuff today, though I've been busy. So here is an update of how I rearranged my aquarium. I apologize for the quality, as it looks better in person. I'm keeping the other picture as my banner because of how much better of a shot it is. I feel pretty good at the moment.

Another Hodgepodge

I'm still drifting between denial and reality at the moment. I wrote a lot of this entry yesterday before the breakup and want to publish the content.

I was invited to an "erotic party" over Facebook, which is a first. No, I'm not going, just noting this because of amusement.

The top three mistakes in my writing are:
1.) Forgetting words. I'm not quite sure why this happens, though I suspect that it's because my
mind thinks faster than my fingers can type.
2.) Extraneous commas
3)Repeating words.

"The real question was why no one ever seemed to figure this grim scenario out on her own, just by looking at you. This was enraging in and of itself - the fact that severe depression, much as it might be treated as an illness, didn't send out clear signals for others to pick up on; it did its deadly dismantling work under cover of normalcy. The psychological pain was agonizing, but there was no way of proving it, no bleeding wounds to point to."
-Daphne Merkin

Depression is a disease that our culture fails to recognize. Bringing in a note about being sick from stomach flu will help people excuse a lapse in productivity but equivalently crippling mental issues will inspire no sympathy from many. This is not an overall rule, as I've actually encountered many sympathetic and kind people, but there is still a feeling of judgment which encourages silence rather than reaching out for help. Therapy is seen as either for the weak or shallow and pills a part of our feel-good culture. Are there some people who will prescribe medication without a second thought and therapists who are ineffectual? Absolutely, but this overall stereotype of the psychological and psychiatric professions is horribly detrimental to those in need of help. Mental illness is not a choice and those affected can still be sane, competent and smart people, as I would like to consider myself to be. I still blame myself for things I did under the influence of this disease, although for me it actually is easier to accept blame in some ways than to admit that it is something which I can't or couldn't control. Therein lies another problem, as the line between the disease and the patient can be difficult for the patient themselves to recognize, let alone others. This fact only beneficial to disease out of all those involved.

After reading this Wikipedia article on Francis Bacon I am wondering what a movie about his life would be like. Also, I wonder what regular names in our day will go on to become swear words, food items, or some other oddity.

I really like this song by "The Kills":


I haven't even watched the video, however.

"Sometimes a thing gets broke n' you just can't fix it" -Firefly

This morning, things still feel surreal. Three years of thinking about "us" doesn't turn overnight into thinking about "me". I keep going over our fantasies, the way our wedding pictures were going to look, the imaginary house we built together. Fantasies don't always weather realities, though. A little part of me keeps speculating that perhaps we'll get back together in the future, but I know that's not true, or if it is it will be a long time from now, a time not even worth speculating about. I wouldn't say there is a torrent of memories, more like an organized trickle as things come forward one by one. I did genuinely believe we were going to be together forever. The concept that he is not standing right behind me is still alien.

I don't feel angry, although I may later. There is plenty to be angry about on both sides. At the moment I just feel sad, because I did cherish the time we had together. Part of me wants to fixate on the hurt, part of me wants to fixate on the good, and I'm retracing both side by side.

Chris and I just broke up. Why? I don't want to talk about it. I still respect and like the man, even still love him, but there are some things which a relationship cannot get over. I hope that he finds happiness, and I genuinely wish him well.

Happy Mother's Day

I love this quote from a Yahoo! news story: "Taliban spokesmen were not available for comment."

Today, after sleeping somewhat better last night and dreaming that I had an abusive boyfriend who turned in Castle and started stalking me, I woke up to hurting eyeballs. After snoozing in bed for a bit, I decided to go back to sleep. The only trouble was that I couldn't get up and ended up "napping" until around 2:00pm, at which point I finally managed to drag myself out of bed to almost immediately be phoned by my mother who wanted to know why I hadn't called her for Mother's Day. I got her a card and a present, although the present is going to be shipped to my parent's house sometime next week. The picture on the left is what I got her from Shana Logic. My mother loves cameos.

It's sometimes hard to separate your own taste from another person's. For example, my mom owns a lot of jewelry and a lot of clothes, and I don't understand why she keeps wanting more. But it's what makes her happy, and so it's what I'll buy her. I'm sure there is plenty she and other people do not understand about me.

I spent a large portion of the day reading on the patio. First I read the books for my project, then collected a few earlier poems from my old livejournal so that I could archive them. This was inspired by my sudden urge to write a poem, which I am not going to post here because thbbbbt. Also, it's on my laptop which is an enormous fifty feet away. I looked back on my sixteen-and- fifteen-year-old self and was glad to see that she at least sounded intelligent. I hope in my nineteen-year-old self does not disappoint, and I'm also curious as to how I will view the quality of my prose. Occasionally I will leave certain mistakes in my writing alone simply out of laziness, and I wonder how that will change my future self's opinion.

Besides that the day has mostly been routine, although I believe I will read a little bit more of The Call of the Toad tonight. I was thinking about some things earlier, but can't wrap my head around what at the moment. Anyways, I'm feeling pretty good.

SNL

For now, must-watch clips of SNL:



"At first, he'll date a well-known pop star. Publicly they'll claim to be virgins, but privately, he hit that."



LEONARD NEMOY

For the rest of the episode, which was great, click here.

Also, Texas is charging victims for Rape Kits?! Apparently I'm not tiring of Jezebel. I did not know that MIA had a baby, which is old news.

Realization

I just realized something. What I love most are the truth, the whole, and understanding the whole. While loving another human being is part of that whole, I will never love a person more than the whole. This is simply who I am.

This is not to trivialize how I love someone, deeply and passionately and a lot of other things one cannot attest to if they have not been in a relationship with me.

Gawkerfied

The picture is M.I.A reading.

I really like this article on the fashion exhibit at the MET. I do feel as if some of the points it makes are valid, such as the fact that fashion photography can be art and models can have an effect on the decision-making within that art. Boccaccio never satirized young women lining up to be painted during the Renaissance and my belief is that if some of the greatest social critics of the time never commented on such a phenomenon it never happened. I had a point but then I lost it.

Also, a Baptist school is threatening to expel a student for taking his girlfriend, who goes to a public high school, to her prom. Why? Because there are all of those low cut dresses and bare shoulders which fill a man's head with dirty thoughts. Sadly, that actually is the reason-one has to wonder exactly how pervy these older men are if they don't believe this guy can resist these temptations. Also, as one commentator stated, if you tell a person that they can't control themselves he or she is less likely to do so.

Flirtexting. If a book's byline is "how to text your way into his heart", put it down and back away slowly.

My parents visited today. We had a fun time talking about cats, my brother Christopher's new job and family things. Christopher's job is high-stress, but his secretary orders his food for him, he has a great office, and his clothes get dry-cleaned for free. Anyways, he's doing great work there. For those who are wondering, he works as the sole lawyer for a loan consolidation company. My parents went to visit him before coming to see me, and the family of the owner came out to see them. Parentals also haven't found a condo in the area which tickles their fancy. At Petsmart mom wanted to steal the kittens which were still there, and I think that if I wanted to come home the weekend of the 22nd I would be welcomed. Also, there were some really adorable and fuzzy puppies which Chris would have stolen in a minute that I had fun petting. We made the usual rounds and ate at Rubio's, then headed home.

Fans of "Bones" should watch the latest episode as soon as possible. While the premise is untrue to the character in my opinion...just go watch it, right now. Also, Justin Timberlake is going to be on SNL again tonight.

I barely got any sleep last night for absolutely no reason. I think I slept at most four or five hours, so I'm not feeling very awake at the moment, and I still have to exercise. We'll see what I make of the rest of the day.

This is the stuff I am too sleepy to articulate in words right now. I sound stoned, it's really bad.

"Yes, you like spatial disorientation, don't you?"

I wonder what the future would be like if instead of nations, we had organizations. Would these organizations be able to share the world in a heterogeneous population distribution, perhaps with capitals(headquarters) in certain areas? Or would they inevitably carve out a territory, creating new nations most likely inhibited from expanding by natural boundaries like in olden times? Keep in mind my definition of organization is coming from just reading articles on Al-Quaeda. I would imagine the culture surrounding the organization would obviously influence its choices while it was developing.

I am very happy that we are trying to rebuild ties with Russia and that the new stress-tests were released, although if Obama were Stalin he would be calming public fears while manipulating things behind the scenes. Of course, he's not Stalin and I don't believe all of these conspiracy theories. The poor guy has already aged from his short time in office.

Lavoisier died yesterday :(. But the German troops also officially ceased action in WWII.

So last night, despite taking the muscle relaxant, which is a sedative, I fell asleep around 2:00am and woke up at 7:00am. I stayed in bed until around 7:50am, at which point I got up and shuffled down to the lab meeting. Many of the talks were interesting to listen to, although during a couple of them I wandered off into space. Ilya got an award which is really cool and everybody was happy for him. Anyways, after almost everybody was distracted during the last talk lunch break was announced, after which we would meet again at 2:00pm. At first I strolled off on my own, met Dr. Kleinfeld on the elevator and proceeded to give him the rundown on my status in 30 seconds. I was planning on being anti-social, but when I looked back I saw Andrew, Jeff, and Ilya strolling behind me and decided to join them. I'm glad I did, I had a really nice time and was invited to hang out with the grad students more often. Not to give the impression that the grad students are like a club and this was means I'm a cool kid, just that us undergrads usually hang out in one room and the grads hang out in another. Anyways, we all come back at 2:00pm and Dr. Kleinfeld is not there. Ilya comes back from class and Dr. Kleinfeld is still not there. We start playing Jamoraquai and Jazz in the lab and Dr Kleinfeld is MIA. I've run out of things to do, the computer screen is hurting my eyes and Dr. Kleinfeld has not arrived. I joke about watching a movie and Dr. Kleinfeld is still absent, though by this point we had learned he was on a conference call. Ilya busted out Netflix and put on "The Matrix: Reloaded" . He then had a great time attempting to get the movie to show on his 30'' screen. We ended up watching it on his laptop, at which point he realized that it's actually "The Matrix: Revolutions" he hasn't seen. We got to the part where people dress in leather and talk like stoners(aka I don't remember right now...right, the Oracle was just about to die via Agent Smith) then, after checking back, realize the lab meeting has been going on without us. After the last presentation finished it was 6:00pm and I went home to do math and watch "Bones". Brennan's wanting a baby is completely inconsistent, people! Also, I had to deal with some unexpected banking problems which got resolved.

I hope you had a good day!

I Fail at Pet-Theft

I am so happy that Obama is funding comprehensive sex education and I do have to give points to Meghan McCain for supporting it. Here is a quote from her blog:

"Here's what I've never understood about the party: its resistance to discussing better access to birth control. As a Republican, I am pro-life. But using birth control and having an abortion are not the same at all. Actually, the best way to prevent abortions is to educate people about birth control and make it widely and easily accessible. True: abstinence is the only way to fully prevent pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases. Still, the problem with abstinence-only education is that it does not make teenagers and young adults more knowledgeable about all the issues they face if or when they have sex-physically and emotionally."

As you may have guessed I am pro-choice, but this is certainly a step in the right direction.

The Latin Black Bean soup from Trader Joe's is very good, although what they said about beans and how they're good for your heart applies here.

My mid-day routine was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a small dog on the lawn. My train of thought went something like this:
"Aw, he/she's adorable but probably belongs to someone and touching random animals is dangerous.
......
..............
Time to steal a puppy."

In the literal minute or two it took me to get outside the puppy disappeared. To cheer myself up I went to see if the random calico cat that loves all humans and lives in my complex was around, but alas, he was not. For those who might wonder, he already is in the care of a person who seems to be a loving owner. Anyways, the people I did get to see were a mob of college-aged kids with identical glasses. I did not want to see these people because about an inch and a half of my belly was showing, but short of ducking into some bushes there was nothing I could do. It's interesting, because every time I see college-aged people outside of campus my mind goes "Big people! Run for cover!". I mean, technically it should do that when just about everybody passes by.

Picture, if you will, a tiny elementary-aged Marisa discovering that the back door of the backyard unlocks and, after bracing it with a rock, leaves to scurry about in ratty pink foam sandals with a green and a purple flower on them. She goes around collecting snails, berries, insects, and the like, steadfastly disappearing whenever the nearest person came into sight. She had many random "experiments" in jars, some involving algae and whether or not she could trigger evolution in it, or clone two species of fish together.

Anyways, back to the present day, although now I'm wishing again for those robotics kits that I always lusted after as a child. I considered searching the area for random pets, but decided that no matter how non-threatening I looked that would still be creepy. Then I came back inside.

Working out is Tiring

Apparently L'oreal is installing a generator at their factory that will allow them to run the plant on methane gas from cow poop. This is an awesome idea, and I may switch shampoos because of it.

My physical therapist is very nice. We chatted and she recommended a steep hike called "The three sisters" which is about six miles from here.

I spent most of this afternoon reading things I have to read while relaxing in the sun. I really like the things I have to read. The Morphology of the Folktale is very interesting, though it is hard to make large judgments on something commenting on the overall structure of the fairy tale when I've never done a significant analysis myself. After all my reading in this area I feel as though I should be more qualified, but I'm not. Perhaps when the author applies his analysis to specific folktales I may have something interesting to say, but for now the best insight I can offer is how interesting it would be to twist this structure to fit a story with the feeling but not the reality of magic, such as someone from the far past discovering alien technology. I am sure that someone has done this before. Also, the author's methodology is refreshing, as he emphasizes over and over that the theory should conform to the material and not the other way around. I wish he didn't use Greek letters for functions since every time I see theta it's either polar or imaginary coordinates and neither pleases me.

There is a Muay Thai class at UCSD which it's too late for me to enroll in, but I really want to.

On Gawker there is an article where Madoff's secretary talks about how he was irresistible to women. A Gawker commentor pointed out that "For the rest of his life he's certainly going to be irresistible to men."

Edit:

The White House OSTP wants your opinion

Wednesday, May 6, 2009 7:21 PM

From:

"Shawn Otto - ScienceDebate.Org team"

Dear Marisa: Barack Obama pledged to Science Debate that he would "restore the science integrity of government and restore transparency of decision-making..." He has referred to this pledge several times since, most recently in his speech to the National Academies of Science. On March 9, the president formally asked the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy (OSTP) to make recommendations on how the executive branch can meet this pledge. The OSTP has opened a public comment period regarding this directive, giving you the opportunity to share your thoughts on what the next steps should be. Comments are due by Wednesday, May 13. The OSTP is looking for recommendations on the six issues President Obama identified in his memo: hiring and keeping qualified scientists defining new policies to ensure integrity using "well-established scientific processes" like peer review disclosing scientific findings ensuring that principles of scientific integrity are being adhered to adopting additional policies like whistleblower protections The OSTP is accepting comments via email and through their blog, here. Their original request for input can be found here (pdf).

Zombies, Witches, and Dragons

Last night I dreamed that zombies had invaded the town. Not the usual movie or video game zombies, but zombies as strong, smart, and fast as a decayed human being actually would be: not at all. The part of the dream that I can remember involved my playing video games in a house with Dr. Hodgins from "Bones" in a game where we killed vampires and demons in 8-bit or worse graphics except when when the game transitioned to certain cut scenes. For some reason I was very good at the game and button-smashing was allowing me to win, but Hodgins was struggling. All the other humans had gone to safety shelters like churches or other public buildings which had at this point probably been sealed off. For the most part we were actually very safe as the zombies outside the open window had not noticed us at all. I went downstairs in what was originally a one-story house to check the door which turned out to be unlocked and my surroundings suddenly transitioned into my house in LA. My family had come home, although they didn't look like my family. Apparently the zombie threat was over and everyone had been released. My mom had even brought a zombified Snuggles home who was trying to bite everyone in vain. My dad, whom at this point turned into someone very similar to Castle, went to a local police meeting trying to find the cause of the zombie outbreak, and I went with him. There was a cutscene in my dream explaining that the outbreak had started with an old man who attempted to strangle his doctors and then fell dead ten seconds later. Later on I was at home alone with my mom, whom my meta-dream self suspected something of something. My meta-dream self also knew the zombie outbreak was not over. My mom started talking and then screaming about how she was already dead and her face started transforming. Then I woke up and started being extremely suspicious of how dark it was outside.

Since I fell asleep at 2:00am and woke up at around 4:28am I was not well rested at all and no amount of sudden fear of zombies was going to keep me awake. I rolled over and dreamed about a powerful sorceress who was trying to take over the world while I was working with a guy, some sort of powerful guru, who was attempting to stop her. Our band had a showdown with her in what looked like a public bathroom where we crystallized her and then threw acid on the crystals. Then I started writing a book in my head and there was a waterfall and some dragons.

Needless to say, I don't feel very well rested today.

Attack of the Fish Nerd and Other Stories

This little guy is one of 200 new species discovered in Madagascar.

Today I actually attempted to brush up my French accent. I used to have a very good French accent at one point, but this interfered with my previous natural Spanish accent. Natural, of course, being what happens when people attempt to cram the language down your throat since infancy; I went to a preschool where they attempted to teach it to me. Anyways, the Spanish accent reinstated itself and made my French sound amusing to say the least, so I am trying to make both accents coexist with each other.

So Practical Fishkeeping's newest newsletter came out! Included in this issue: A man inserts a 50cm eel up his rectum with predictable results, nearly all cephalopods are venomous, a breakthrough in shoaling studies has occured, whale sharks are all related, and world's oldest brain studied.

I am really happy for Maidenhead Aquatic's success in breeding the stingrays! Oh, and Chris landed a small gold nugget pleco about a month ago.

I am too tired to read other news, such as what's actually going on in the world and killings and murder and genocide and NVIDIA unveils Tesla clusters. Discuss?

Almost Pr*n

This is the cover of a Sex-and-the-City type graphic novel Marvel Inc. is attempting to market to girls. While I leave you to ponder the horror of this scenario, what struck me about the picture is that if these women were real they wouldn't even look good. I have a long torso and am skinny enough that if I lean forward my ribs show. If you took that much meat off a body my size in the middle it would look ridiculous and scary, not sexy. In fact, I'm pretty sure it would be physically impossible for them to hold their upper body up. Ribcages also don't taper down like that.

I've been working, dusting, reading, and did a little bit of practice programming in Mathlab.

Exhbits, Readings, and TV

This picture is strange, but I like it. It's from the Mark Moore gallery and painted by artist Julie Heffernan, but unfortunately the photographs of the pictures are too small to appreciate any real detail in them. I would actually love to visit the gallery on May 23rd, hint hint.


My mind refuses to settle down, jumping from one project to the next. It's searching for something to involve it totally and completely in the way it wants, to provide it with what it needs, responsibility be damned. It wants to learn seven new things literally at once.

I also watched the new episode of "Castle". The difference between "Castle" and the other shows I am watching is that I actively look forward to it. I would say that I even like it better than "Bones", which has regained its standing as one of my favorite shows, even though the two are very different. Of course, "Castle" parodies "Bones" in some ways. Yesterday when I was incapacitated I finished catching up on all of the new "Bones"; that's a lot of TV. "The Double Dearly Departed" had me laughing throughout almost the entire episode and was probably my favorite of all of the new ones.

Anyways, later on I no doubt will come back to talk about some of the things I have learned today. For those who live in or by Los Angeles, LACMA currently has an exhibit about Pompeii's art and culture on display. Perhaps that's something I could see on, say, the 24th, provided it's convenient. Also, apparently there is a Lebowski fest taking place on May 7th?

I'm reading and to some extent accidentally destroying a book called The Morphology of the Folktale by Propp, an analysis of forty-two Russian folktales in an attempt to scientifically study fairy tale structure. Propp was very influenced by the anthropologist Levi-Strauss, which is why at one point I requested that book back. The problem is that the study is so mathematical it makes me feel like studying pure math, so I've been jumping between it and Linear Algebra. I also got this strange urge to read the Tale of Genjii at one point.

Hi!

So, this morning I got out of bed at 12:00pm and dragged myself to the doctor to get a note about the fact that dying prevented me from going to my midterm. Then I read a couple more chapters of The Ring of Nibelung and failed at reading a book I am supposed to be. I watched the "Bones" episode "The Cinderella in the Carboard" instead.

My body is trying to kill me by demanding candy. "I want Sour Patch Kids" it says, while an ominous wave of nausea rolls through my body. "Also, throw in some chocolate on the side."

Thankfully, I am feeling a lot better this evening. But my day was still boring, although I did watch a lot of "Bones". Unfortunately, it's a bit monotone compared to what I prefer to do.