Bright:

Pros:
-Hot
-Australian
-Olympic Gold Medalist

Cons:
-Mormon
-Engaged (minor)
-Horse-gummed (minor)

1260 double mctwist

Over the past few years, I've developed an aversion to people who I would describe as abrasive. Perhaps that is just another way of saying the ambiguous term "people who rub me the wrong way," so I will try to add some definition to the concept:

- Intolerants. There are many different masks worn to create layers over intolerance- overcompensation, humor, self-victimization, etc. It always comes out eventually, though, if it is there.

- Self deceptionists. Being self aware does not exclude being self deceived. I can observe that I continue to make poor decisions and at the same time believe I am always right.

- Bossy people. I don't think there is anything wrong about putting yourself first or getting what you want. I think it becomes problematic when such things come at the expense of others.

- Rude gusses. Those who skipped kindergarten or first grade rules. Don't interrupt people, use "please" and "thank you", take your turn in line, don't be a criminal.

I like most people who are not abrasive.

On that note:

http://autocompleteme.com/

Google:

Really, really bored at work.

Queenan:

We deal in deception here. What we don't deal with is self-deception. In five years, you might be anything else in the world, but you won't be a Massachusetts State trooper.

j:

I had a series of interesting/weird dreams last night.

In one of them, someone was telling me about how their grandfather just inexplicably dropped dead. Suddenly I was reliving that scene with them. It was their grandfather's birthday and the whole family was gathered to surprise him. The party was for ninja themed... I don't know. The grandfather was surprised when he walked out and saw ninjas spinning bows and a bonfire with ninja ceremonies going on around it. After that the party went inside to cut the cake and he was giving joyous hugs to all of his family when, suddenly, he froze up stiff and literally fell like a tree. End of dream.

Then I was in this post-apocalyptic city, wandering through buildings and basements. I recall lots of stairwells and climbing through broken windows, with no particular destination in mind. Eventually I ended up on this parking lot property underneath a highway and heard someone coming. For some reason I knew that I was on their property, so I tried to hide behind some hanging ropes? But from a distance he spotted me and has his dog attack. I stood my ground as the dog charged, and when it leapt at me I used its momentum to swing it around right back at its owner. End of dream.

i:

Here goes round 2.

h:

For every action there is a consequence. For each consequence there is a choice in responsibility.

g:

These days when I see open spaces, I just want to go. Same phenomenon of seeing the mileage signs for Denver on I-70 and wanting to just keep on driving. Part of it is a desire to escape. Part of it is a desire to be irrational. Part of it is because running through an open field is cool.

F:

"The rest of your life" is a difficult thing to face. I think back to when I broke my thumb, and when the cast came off the doctor told me I would never have my full range of motion or full strength in it again. I gave up learning guitar at that point because I couldn't bar anymore, which is not a sacrifice of monumental proportions, but just one of the realities of that "the rest of your life" example.

And then there are the things that don't really last forever, but certainly feel like they will. Probably the most common example is heartbreak.

I don't know when I'll be able to move on. It feels like never, but I should know better. What a mind trip.

.....

It's like rebreaking a bone. For a while something hasn't been growing right or healing normally. The only solution is to break the bone and reset the healing process. It hurts like all hell for some undetermined amount of time - days, months, maybe years- but there is the hope that eventually it'll be healthy. And then there is the very common aftermath of permanent damage. Loss in range of motion, stress pains, etc. that persist. I don't know how to cope with the pain. Part of me wants to just get away. For some reason, Argentina and Switzerland don't sound too far fetched to be in by the end of the week.

Bottom:

Some days you gotta take steps of faith. Some days you gotta take leaps.

Toot:

Last night, I was asked what the tuning of a violin is. I blanked and it took me a while to figure it out. It's pretty sad when the basics slip after seeking mastery of an instrument for many years. Kind of the same as asking a math major what addition is or an English major what a noun is, and them being unable to answer on the fly.

This story is not all bad. In an exercise of curiousity, I tried to remember the tone of an A note ("note" and "tone" have the same letters but mixed up... weird) and hum it. The A is the tuning string of a violin- the first thing you learn how to play and the first note played before every performance. A few guesses later, I had found something that sounded right and matched it up with the piano app on my iphone. Spot on! I suppose something is still ingrained in there. It's certainly not perfect pitch, but perhaps best described as tonal memory. Happens.

Yogging:

I know I have been given a gift that I do not utilize.

My senior year of high school I began to run once a week. My dad would wake me up super early to run the 2 mile route he had run every morning for as long as I could remember. The first month was pretty rough for me, as it usually goes when getting physically active, but after that it didn't take long for me to smoke my dad and my siblings without the need to catch my second wind. My frame is naturally not useful for heavy lifting, or quickness, or balance even. Efficiency is more fitting.

Spring of sophomore year I tried to start up running once again, after my ever present slothness put an end to any exercise shortly after I was on my own at school. I think the catalyst was the objective to get in shape to endure a backpacking trip, which I believe I was successful at that. Anyway, I tried to find people who would run with me to help keep me consistent, but with little avail. So I went solo, mostly out from North Campus down to the Chapel courtyard where I could spend some time meditating before jogging back. Of course, that fell off quickly for the same reasons previously cited and since then I can count on one hand the number of times I've run (that's over the past 4 years). Sad, I know.

With my lungs probably shrunken now to the size of prunes, my arteries thoroughly clogged with the gloriousness of unhealthy foods, and my ever wavering mental determination- I dread trying to start up running again. It would be a painful, yet good thing for me. I hope that by thinking about it enough, I can guilt myself into doing it. I guess that's the sort of motivation I need.

Clockwork:

Meditations:

That which is pressing. That which is observed. That which is understood. That which must be let go.

For most of the time the world is out of focus. Everything around me is less real or consequential, as if the edges of things become blurry and the colors dull. Instead I am caught in my head where there is this buzz- not because of the gears turning or thoughts flying around, but because there is numbness and a lack of clear orientation.

On occassion I will break out of this fog for a few moments. As if thinking clearly and deliberately also results in me being able to notice the fine features of the royal blue pen that sits on my desk, along with the rest of the world around me. It is simply imagined that focus is clarity.

I think most people experience the opposite where they see the present for the most part instead of having a near permanent overlay of this false reality stew, cooked up from dwelling in the past and dreaming of some future. I do not necessarily envy their vision, since the present is not all that matters. I do wish I could break through the clouds to see the sun more often.

Mirrors:

Consider your former self. How far back do you think you could go such that he/she would be able to recognize well your current self? I mean not just in the physical sense, but in the holistic sense of what defines you as a person. For me, I think myself from about four years ago wouldn't have too much trouble understanding who I am and who I have become. Much more prior to that I think would be a stretch. Myself from one year ago? I think if we blindfolded ourselves and spun around ten times, neither of us would be able to discern any difference.

It's funny. I think if I were to ask the people around me how much I have evolved or grown, they would argue differently and say that perhaps the change has not been drastic, but certainly something they have perceived one way or another. The case most likely stands for everybody, since self perception is inherently so diluted by us being with ourselves all the time. So what does any of this mean? I don't know.

Grammatical:

On the back of the bathroom stall doors here at work, there are signs with a few points about sanitation and hygenics. The last point ends by saying "the dirt and germs you leave behind can harm others." Whenever I read that, the wording makes me unsettled... what sounds better to me would be "the dirt and germs you leave behind can be harmful to others" because dirt is an inanimate object. Now I am no expert on grammer, but I feel like I'm in the right on this. Agree or disagree?

Incurable:

I am so tired. The kind where sleep doesn't do any good.