Shopping Sniper

I've told people before that I don't mind shopping. I've said with the utmost sincerety in my eyes that I don't at all mind wandering aimlessly examining articles that I will never buy with care. It's a lie.

I think I've told this little lie mostly to girls, with two goals in mind. 1) To garner favor and 2) to gain a potential shopping partner.

Even with respect to goal #1, I find myself tiring by the third store. I am impatient; I cannot stand to look at every item in the store in search of a deal. I am more impatient than I am frugal - these days I will buy something that I see that meets my criteria even if it's a little more expensive than I would like, if I really need it. If I don't, I give up and go home.

With respect to #2, I like shopping for myself only marginally better than accompanying another shopper. But I do like to get a second opinion on things. Therefore, I like having a shopping partner. Selfish? Yes. But with my entire purpose in shopping focused on finding the item(s) I need as quickly and as inexpensively as possible and going home so I can lay half-naked on the couch licking the potato chip crumbs off my bare chest whilst watching bad TV, I don't think it's nearly as painful for my shopping partner as it is for me when I am the partner.

This brings to mind the Christmas holiday, which just passed, and the pain that is holiday shopping. Holiday shopping is even more painful than normal shopping because you a) don't have time to really look for deals b) you have a deadline to make your purchases c) everyone else is out shopping and d) you don't have time to think about what you are buying, so you usually just end up getting junk. I also end up paying more sometimes just to get it all over with, rather than looking for a deal... but I figure why spend an extra hour to save $5?

To all that love shopping, Lord help you.

Third tier

A somewhat depressing note - I filled out a survey today to get $10 off $100 at an Apple retail store. When they ask for ages, they always ask about it in tiers, like 0-17, 18-24, etc. I have been selecting the 18-24 age range for as long as I can remember filling out online surveys.

Today, I had to choose the 25-34 age range. There's nothing like selecting the next range to make you feel old. I think the only higher range that would make me feel better would be a higher tax bracket, but in this case, I just feel old.

WW folk listen up

As you know, a significant portion of our entertainment when we are back in West Windsor comes from two sources: poker/gambling, and xbox (Halo and Halo 2 in particular). Unfortunately, we do not have an xbox in West Windsor.

I know I have one, but I'll be damned if I'm lugging that thing home for a few days, plus the hassle of connecting and disconnecting it in my apartment. They also don't rent these things anymore.

THE PROPOSAL
We purchase one this holiday (probably on sale!) and split however many ways. It should be about $225 (or less) with four controllers. We would then be joint owners of the xbox, and can vote on where to keep it, preferably somewhere accessible like one of our houses, or we can bury it somewhere.

Think of it like a partnership or cooperative. Our individual liability would be something like $45 if just 5 of us go in on it!

Tell me if you're in or not, or if you have a better idea.

A lost temper

As I do quite often, I inadvertently took a 3 hour nap today. While napping, I had a dream. And in my dream, I had a temper.

Yes, I had a temper. It was quite realistic, actually. I was at some sort of meeting, and people were talking about issues. What the issues were is not important. Everyone was talking over each other and the meeting was going nowhere.

I tried to get everyone's attention to talk, and I actually threw things (I think marble tiles?) to the floor and yelled "Stop the side conversations! Stop the side conversations!". I could feel my temper rising. I was really, really angry. Almost as angry as only once before. In the end, I think I was so frustrated that I ended up storming off and quitting the group that was holding the meeting.

I woke up with my heart beating fast and I could still feel the effects of losing my temper. It was not a pleasant feeling.

I don't recall any adult seeing the results of my losing my temper ever before, and I hope that doesn't happen anytime soon - because it's not pretty. Good thing it takes a lot for me to lose my temper (more than what happened in my dream).

Company parties

Last night was my company holiday party. I've always found large gatherings of people that don't know each other at social functions to be somewhat awkward, especially when your company is organized in an extremely heirarchical way.

First of all, all the senior people stood around together. All the young people stuck together. All the support staff stuck together. And all the minorities stuck together. None of this is surprising, I suppose.

What was really interesting/funny was the dance floor. Imagine a bunch of stuffy old white men, mixed in with old, large, white women, young straight-out-of-college kids, and minorities (mostly black and hispanic). It's the epitome of "diversity", at least on a surface level (and then only by ethnicity).

Imagine everyone standing around the dance floor while the DJ desperately spins the latest grooves ("Celebration", Kool & The Gang, "Billie Jean", Michael Jackson), all kinda wanting to dance, but nobody brave enough to step onto the floor. As the night went on, and the alcohol kept flowing (it was an open bar), you could see the dance floor shrinking, but still nobody taking the bold step of going to the middle. It was almost like watching a bacteria colony growing around penicillin (you know what I'm talking about, Andy and Ann).

I had to leave in the middle, but I'm sure that as the night progressed and the alcohol took its effect, that you would have witnessed the most eclectic group of people grooving to the latest 70's and 80's hits.

My daily routine

Does anyone else wake up for work, think immediately about what to eat for breakfast, and once breakfast is consumed, spend the remainder of the morning thinking about what to eat for lunch? (Perhaps imagining the lunch and eating it in your head)

Then, spend the rest of the afternoon thinking about going home to take a nap?

Current Leader of the Commonwealth

Tips for a Speedier Santa

Here are some friendly tips for aspiring Speedy Santas:

Use a high quality mousepad made of a perfectly smooth material

Spray the mousepad with Pam®

Use an optical mouse

Clear your desk of all obstacles

Santa likes a fast start, get going as soon as the light turns green

Keep accelerating as much as you can. Santa will go faster if you let him

Eat a good breakfast. I recommend Wheaties, the breakfast of champions

Swear to name your firstborn child "lostpancake" and I guarantee you will get a faster score

Speedy Santa - League?

So Andy has formed a league so I can whoop his ass in real-time. All this proves is one point:

Is there no one that can compete with me?

High maintenance

Even though I posted about being alone and friendless in NYC a few months ago (which was for the most part true - since I feel alone even when I am around people that I know, but don't know very, very well), I am now finding myself trying to maintain three or four separate circles of friends. Some of these circles can't really be considered "circles", per se, but might just be someone I am friends with but don't know any of my other friends.

I have:

Work buddies

Old work buddies

Old work friends (who are now just "friends")

Random friends (these are the people who aren't associated with any particular circle)

Good friends (usually from college or high school)

New friends (usually through friends, or through this social club I got sucked into)

It really takes a lot of time! I always mean to email or call, but then I run out of time, or I miss the window to do so. Maybe more on this later. I'm tired.

I don't know

Do you ever start talking and just don't know what you are talking about? Yeah, me neither.

Insecurity embodied

What is embarrassment but the embodiment of insecurity? It's an emotion that arises because you are conscious and not OK with a judgment you assume/know others are making about you. As I love to dream of utopia and ideal worlds, there should never be a situation where you feel embarrassed. But it happens. Even if you are unabashed, there inevitably arise situations where you wish you had done things differently (there would be no reason to wish such if you were not insecure about the method and/or result).

I'm definitely one of those people that think of all the clever things to say after the fact. I hate this. A) It means that usually I fuck things up and B) I sound like I'm obsessing about the past. I hate it when people dwell on things that are past, but I can't say that I am innocent. In fact, I'm probably the most guilty. It's a vicious cycle, because the I hate myself for dwelling on the past.

Long story short, tonight I was out at an Irish pub. Things were relaxed and OK until this rather large (and by large, I mean his waistline) man and his father (who claimed he was 72) walked in. They appeared to be somewhat tipsy already. And the large man proceeded to harrass me.

Now, as far as harrassing goes, it was fairly tame, except for one point, when he pointed his finger at me and touched my nose. One more second of that and I probably would have been arrested. He acknowledged that I was being very patient. I'm not sure what would have happened had it lasted much longer, because I was losing my patience.

The thing was, even as it was happening, I didn't really know how to handle it, but I knew something had to be done. One embarrassing thing is that the person I was with stepped in and said something that was pretty effective in getting him to leave. I think mostly, I felt a bit like a pussy. And no matter how laid back I try to be, I am not OK with that. Strange, I am able to let things go for the most part - but tonight really made me angry. Thinking back, of course, there are tons of things I could have done differently or said.

I hope for a next time, and at the same time, I don't.

All work and no play ...

This last week I've been working quite a bit. I've pulled three 17 hour days, and the rest are about 10-12 hours. What all this has made me realise is that I have to love what I do in order to be able to work that much on a consistent basis. I just can't underestimate the importance of that to my general well-being. I've also realized how miserable I feel when I don't have a chance to take care of myself - I need to be able to work out, get out, take me time.

I really hope that I am moving down a reasonable path to fulfill both those needs.

All I want for Christmas is...

Warning: To those of you who are happy, this post will sound a little trite

I have suspected it for a long time, and my experiences and observations have only continued to support my suspicion.

I believe that (at least after the dawn of civilization) the primary impetus for all that we do is for happiness. I further postulate that happiness is defined by finding love and acceptance (the scope and scale of which depends on each person).

Why do some people work all the time, ruthlessly climbing the corporate ladder? To be admired, accepted, even worshipped.

Why do some people think only of money? Because they think it can buy them happiness. What does a house larger than you need or a car faster than you are legally able to drive it mean? Status, and nothing more.

Getting good at anything is an attempt to impress others. Sure, you can say it's only for yourself, you want to grow, blah blah blah, but really, it's to make someone take notice.

Even terrorists commit their acts not only for their religious beliefs, but to be martyrs to their families and to reap the rewards of affection in the afterlife (of a thousand virgins, no less). Though of a sexual nature, I think it ultimately has to do with the hope for love.

It also seems that no matter what happens, finding romantic love is a driving force for a lot of people, regardless of socioeconomic status, cultural background, or interest. I mean, is it just me, or is nearly every song on the radio about love and relationships? You don't hear many songs about much else.

Anyway. Just some thoughts as we enter the holiday season, where, according to surveys, only 36 percent of single men and 48 percent of single women are optimistic about (finding someone special, that is).

-----

One last note - currently, I'm somewhat ambivalent about all this. Right now, I'd be happy just to have time to play Halo 2. So I can crush Andy. I need Andy's acceptance. Andy's acceptance of a crushing defeat in Halo 2.

No imagination

I was perusing the Black Friday sales (why is it called that anyway) and noticed something in one of the ads. My first thought was, "That is so cool!" My second thought was, "Actually, that's kind of sad."

What was it? It was an ad for a Spiderman glove that shoots webs.

I remember pretending to be Spiderman when I was a kid, with nothing more than my imagination, and maybe some blue and red sweats on. I always thought it would be cool to be able to shoot real webs from my wrists... but now that the technology has been realized, I'm not so sure it's for the better.

Kids these days have more realistic toys, more technologically impressive toys, and more options than ever before. Somehow I feel like some of the creativity and imagination that goes into childhood play is being taken away in the name of sales and profits.

I think I'd prefer imagination over technology.

Furtive glances

Along the lines of Andy's post about how he says stupid things, I noticed lately that I sometimes don't look at people when I greet them or take my leave.


Example:

[Entering elevator]

[Noticing someone I recognize AND for whom I remember their name]

Me: Morning. [Without even making eye contact]

Another example:

[Leaving the post office counter after a transaction]

Me: Thanks. [Without even making eye contact, I turn and leave]


Ok, so maybe the examples weren't necessary, but you get the idea. I don't know if people notice this, but I totally don't do it on purpose. I guess I'm just eager to get on my way.

Note: I tend to do this only with people I don't know.

Inevitable

It happens to me on almost a daily basis. I am doing some inane task, like opening an envelope, or carrying a folder. And I can see it. I can see an accident waiting to happen. Usually, this involves some sort of sharp object, such as scissors or a letter opener. One wrong move, and it could mean a really nasty wound; perhaps a letter opener stab through the hand or through my solar plexus.

Even though I can see this accident waiting to happen, I proceed. Why? I don't know. I just do. I guess I am a daredevil, of sorts.

Cookie cutters

You see a lot of different people in the city. We're told that everyone is unique, that we are all different.

I actually don't think that everyone's all that unique. I think there is a finite set of cookie cutters, and we are all basically cookie cutter versions of each other. It just depends which cookie cutter.

Common stereotypes are a good example of the types of cookie cutters I'm talking about. Computer geek. Sports nut. Martial arts enthusiast. Extreme sports nut. Outdoorsperson. Socialite. Asian gangster. Hip-hop/rap gansta. Intellectual. Artsy type. Etc.

You might argue that there are infinite variations within a cookie cutter, but they are essentially the same, or at least, people almost try to fit into a certain group.

I think it probably boils down to a need to belong to something, to identify with something. You see what's out there, and you want it.

Granted, once in a while you'll have someone that's just completely unique, but they generally spawn a following and that is quickly lost.

I don't think there's anything wrong with being a cookie cutter version of someone else, as long as you don't delude yourself that it's not the case.

Everybody else does it...

When I actually have something happen of note, I often don't have any desire to blog about it. This seems contradictory since that's usually the sort of thing I look forward to reading about in other people's blogs. So, I'll force myself to give a quick summary of this weekend.

Old friends Gary, Mark, and Rahul trekked over to NYC to visit. It was a good visit - lots of food, booze, and conversation. Oh, and a little debauchery.

Friday consisted mostly of getting our buzz on and dancing the night away, and putting on necessary calories at ungodly hours. What was interesting was that the club we ended up going to was like 100% asian. For those of you that know me, you might wonder why I would object, but lately I just feel strange being around all asians, especially ones I don't know. I make an exception for those that I am already friends with in spite of them being asian.

Saturday we ate bad chinese food and watched Michigan pound Northwestern (although to Northwestern's credit, they held on until the 3rd quarter). Then, we headed out to get wings at the local Hooters. Even though the wings were fatty, they were glorious. At least the first few were. Later, Rahul and I ended up having some gentlemanly fun before passing out.

Today was just laid back with food, company and hanging out. All in all, a very satisfactory weekend. Too bad it can't last.

Social awkwardness?

Lately people I've been hanging out with have been commenting on others' social awkwardness. I had a lively discussion of the difference in connotation between "dorks", "geeks" and "nerds", and which was the preferable descriptor (conclusion: nerds, because that connotes a general sense of intelligence with a twinge of social awkwardness but in an innocent, cute way, vs. geeks, who are smart but only about a few specific things, e.g. RISC microprocessors, vs. dorks, who do not connote a sense of intelligence but just a general awkwardness and perhaps below average intelligence).

By all objective accounts, I realize that I can be considered somewhat socially awkward, or at the very least, shy/introverted. Very scientifically sound online tests have confirmed that I lean slightly toward introversion. I do have a hard time quipping with strangers or saying profound/witty things with people I don't know.

After ruminating on this a bit, wondering why I'm not like other people who can strike up a conversation with just anyone, anytime, I've decided I'm not so much socially awkward as I am socially ambivalent.

To put it simply, I just don't care. If I don't have a compelling reason to know someone, I don't see the purpose in trying. Just because I'm curious about what's happening on a street corner doesn't mean I will ask about it. If I meet someone that I'm likely never to see again, I will promptly forget their name (this is a habit I should probably change if I ever have political aspirations). To me, you are not interesting unless I have a reason to be interested (which is probably at least part of the reason why meeting girls at bars is not a successful strategy for me).

This will probably stymie me in any forays into business or general career networking, but for the moment, it's a part of me. Should I change it? I haven't decided yet.

To hug or not to hug?

This has happened to me more than once in recent weeks, so I thought I would write a tidbit relating to hugging people you sorta-kinda-know.

The first incident happened several weeks ago. A friend of a friend that I had just met that night, after a good time walking around Chinatown and having dinner, was taking her leave. I saw it in slow motion: she went for a hug, and I had already decided to go for a handshake. Result? Awkward hug-lunge finishing in a handshake. Granted, this was after I hugged the friend goodbye so it might have been better for me to have kept the pattern going.

The second incident happened yesterday. This time, I was the victim. After this acquaintance/friend hugged other people goodbye (that she knew better), she looked at first to be going for a hug so I did too (when in Rome...). She then changed her mind last minute to do a handshake (or so it seemed to me) but ended up giving me a hug (because my mass was much greater than hers, it was harder for me to change what I was going for, you know, Newton's 2nd law of motion or whatever), and said "Ok, I guess you've earned the hug status.", or something similar.

So I guess the problem arises when the two parties are not clear on what their status is (hugging friends, handshake friends, or wave good-bye friends), which can be exacerbated by the hugging of better known friends just prior (because you don't want to break the flow).

It's also made more difficult when everyone's threshold for different statuses are different. Oh, life's quandaries.

Beaut(iful) sleep

I may have mentioned this before, but I am perfectly capable of sleeping for long, long periods of time. I know there are some of you who are cursed (blessed?) by only being able to sleep for seven or eight hours max, or wake up like clockwork at 9am no matter what, even on weekends, but not me.

Once, I slept for nearly 36 hours. Friday night to Sunday evening. It was glorious.

I tend to sleep more when I am sick, or coming down with something, or when I'm feeling down. In terms of the latter, I think it helps me sort things out, and gives me an escape. What better place to escape to than a dreamworld where things are usually warm, quiet, and safe?

Being asleep is truly the safest place I can think of to be at this point in my life. No worries, no cares, no dangers (except maybe CO poisoning).

Canada, eh?

No joke. I've seriously considered moving to Canada this week, as I'm sure many of us who were in blue states have. (And no, Cat, not for any other reasons you might think of)

Anyone want to go with me? I hear Saskatchewan is nice this time of year...

Love/hate with NYC

I'm very thankful for the chance to live in NYC right now, when I'm young. It's quite an adventure. That being said, I have a love/hate relationship with the city.

I hate... :

how long it can take to go less than 5 miles

how small living spaces are (unless you are rich)

how expensive everything is

how hard it is to hang out with people, you usually have to make plans

how crowded it feels sometimes

how hard it can be to transport large things

how you have to carry everything on your back vs. throwing it in your trunk

how lonely the city can feel

I love... :

how you can get almost anything you want to eat at any time of day or night

how diverse the population is

how you can do almost anything you want any night you want

the culture that is present in the city via museums, etc.

convenient public transportation

how you can have an ice cream cone delivered to your apartment if you wanted to

how open minded most people are

I can't wait until I find a place that I love flat out.

Proof that it could always be worse

Andy will tell you that you should go out and do something, but I can't help but fear that this will be me in 30 years.

Irrational fear? Perhaps. But we all have them.

There's no place like home

I only started appreciating the notion of home since leaving home some seven years ago for college. Even then, I didn't truly appreciate it. Only now am I beginning to truly appreciate the concept and feeling of home as I've lived on my own for three years, going on...?

Although I have my own place, I don't feel "at home" when I am there. It's for the most part comfortable, but it's fraught with worries - maintenance, cleaning, taking out the garbage, dishwashing, cooking, buying groceries, etc. Even though I did these things when I lived at home, it was different somehow.

I'm not sure when I will have a place that encompasses the entire feeling of "home" again (which I suspect has to do with feelings of stability, consistency, family, and safety). I definitely don't feel that way yet. My living situation, career, etc, all feel very temporary.

One final note - I think the feeling of "home" also evokes fond memories of happiness and holidays, especially Thanksgiving and Christmas. I don't think there is any better feeling than falling asleep, exhausted, after a joyous day of festivities, feeling safe, stable, and content, no matter how fleeting that may be.

Taking the plunge

So, I took the plunge. Twice in one week.

Today I finally bought a hot dog (actually a hot sausage) from a street vendor. First time since coming to NYC. I figured I ought to do it at least once. Tips for visitors: don't bother with the hot sausage. It's not worth the extra $0.50.

Second, I went basically all out on my halloween costume. Those of you that know me know that when I do anything, I have to do it all out, or not do it at all. It's sometimes a blessing, but mostly a curse. It means I can't have mediocre quality things, or get a cheapie knock-off rolex, if I have a rolex, it has to be the real deal.

That being said, on most other things, I am patently above average. I am not exceptional, I am not the opposite. I am squarely above average (academically, athletically, test scores-wise, etc). Despite that, I feel like I've been able to accomplish some pretty cool things. At least it's good to know that sheer willpower or desire can make up for a lack of other things.

Thank goodness for cable

Honestly, I don't know what bachelors would do without cable TV and it's nearly limitless entertainment options. Sure, you can go out to bars, clubs, take classes, etc. But there's only so much of that you can take, or afford.

What did bachelors do before the advent of TV? I can't imagine. I suppose more time was spent doing backbreaking work or something, or perhaps, even, reading... but no TV? Sheesh. Talk about boring.

Only in NYC

Today while walking from work to dance class, I saw something you don't see on a typical day. As I was walking, I noticed sirens behind me. 'Ok, sirens. Better watch out, let the ambulance, or fire truck, or police cruiser go by before crossing the street.' I think to myself. I keep walking, and then I hear someone say, "Look, there's the fire!"

I walk a little bit more and as I approach the corner of 37th Street and 6th Avenue, I noticed some black smoke billowing... from a taxi. There was a taxi sitting a little bit past the intersection engulfed in ten-foot high flames. It was rush hour, so traffic was pretty bad. I suppose that was why the fire trucks were having trouble making it to the scene to put out the fire.

By now, the police had cleared the immediate area and blocked off the intersection, and I stood there speechless and dumbfounded for a few moments, thinking that I had never seen such a thing before and that only in NYC would I see something like this just walking down the street. Then, I thought about how cars sometimes explode. I quickly moved away.

On another note, lately, I've been fending off advances by gay men. I'm not sure what it is, but I've been hit on by several gay men recently. I don't think I give off a vibe that I am homosexual. In any case, I'm not threatened by this, in fact, I'm somewhat flattered.

Although, I would prefer to be breaking female hearts rather than male ones.

Nothing, nothing at all

Today, I did...

basically nothing. For no good reason. It's not like I just took a big test, and needed a break, or was on spring break or something. I just didn't feel like doing anything. I didn't feel like working out, reading, or anything.

Before, I used to have all these things I wanted to accomplish, and I would end up doing nothing and feel guilty. Examples of things I would like to accomplish: organize my photos/digitize them, organize my computer files, organize my finances, clean my apartment, start collecting the music I've always wanted to collect (and organize them), etc.

Today, I didn't even feel like pretending that I wanted to accomplish anything. And I was OK with that.

What's the point of accomplishing those things anyway? I think it's basically for peace of mind, I don't know if there's much functional purpose.

I don't know what I want anymore.

Nothing to fear but fear itself

I have come to the conclusion that the root cause of all social ills is the juxtaposition of the fear of rejection and people being all too willing to reject.

People would probably be happier and better adjusted if this weren't the case. Note that I'm not saying that we need say everything is OK, or not tell someone when they're not doing something right, but we can be more accepting on both sides.

If we accept that we make mistakes, and other people are more willing to tell the truth, then things would be better. I'm not sure if this makes sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to me. The biggest problem is that most people are willing to reject, but not willing to give honest feedback/constructive criticism. What reason would you have to be insecure if everyone was perfectly honest (but not in a mean way)?

A world without insecurities sounds nice to me.

Solitude, part II

So to continue the theme of loneliness/isolation, I got to thinking. How much worse could it be?

Of course, it can always be worse. I could be homeless, I could be sick with a terminal illness. I could be left without family.

I think what would be worst, however, is growing old, and witnessing your friends and family die around you, one by one, until you are left by yourself. It can get even worse if you had no children and no nieces or nephews.

I know Andy would say that you just have to go out and make the effort to reach out, and then you could make new friends. But would that be right, at, say age 80 or 90? I think that would in a way almost be selfish to make friends, because your time is almost certainly running out. Then you would be causing others grief.

In any case, I've always found that trying to make friends seems contrived. True friends are never made that way. That's not to say that I don't understand the value of just getting out and doing things that you enjoy. It's just harder to enjoy at first when you're still new and don't know anyone.

So where was "Solitude, part I"? I don't care.

Perfect storm

So lately, I've been feeling a bit down. It's probably apparent in my postings.

I've decided that it's a combination of the following:

- Dearth of close friends within daily/easy access
- NYC (a very lonely city at times, especially if you didn't grow up here and don't have an established safety net)
- A somewhat sucky job (admittedly, I took this job with the understanding that it wouldn't be glamourous or exciting - but mainly to pay the bills and get away from my last job which was exciting, and meaningful, but the work environment was terrible)
- A lot of free time (partly as a result of this sucky job, strange, because I thought that was what I wanted - more free time, but I don't have anything to fill it up with, yet)
- Uncertainty about the future, and/or what I want the future to look like

All of this turns out to be the perfect storm, resulting in an extreme feeling of isolation and being lost.

No wonder there are so many crazy people in NYC, it kind of does that to you if you're not careful, especially if you don't have some sort of community (church/temple, school, etc).

This leads me to believe in the benefits of a small town, small community. I think that fits me to a T.

Quick to judge

It seems like almost everyone goes through bouts of feeling alone, feeling down, feeling like they're not achieving what they should be, etc. etc.

It also seems like people then are quick to label those who are lonely, down, going through quarter life crises as unstable or something worse.

Until, of course, it happens to you.

Moral of the story, we shouldn't judge people. Even if we do it subconsciously, we should consciously try not to.

I guess not, no

So it seems there are no dancers out there. At least none off the top of your heads. Well, please do keep me in mind if you come across any followers (the girl's part, usually, in dancing).

Also please do keep me in mind for anyone looking for a tennis partner in NYC or a blind date. I promise to try to act like a gentleman.

On another note, when I get down or depressed, I start journaling (the more masculine way to refer to a diary). I write pages and pages and pages, usually hoping to get my feelings and thoughts out of my brain and onto paper instead. It usually works, or at least it seems to speed up recovery.

If I ever get famous, though, and someone finds my journals (perhaps posthumously, so I can't give a personal accounting), people will think that I only thought sad thoughts, and conclude that I must have been suicidal for most of my life.

The truth is, I'm not suicidal (at least I don't think I am), but I am often melancholy. I think it's been part of my temperament ever since middle school. Strange thing is, my parents tell me that as a baby and toddler, I was the happiest, most outgoing baby they have ever seen. I wonder what happened?

I'm realizing after reading what I wrote that the latter part of this post does not provide much faith in myself as a fun blind date. I assure you, I can be quite entertaining after a few drinks.

Any dancers out there?

So I'm trying to get back into dancing, specifically, lindy hop (the original and classic swing dance, the big momma of jitterbug). I used to dance quite a bit in college, but I never had the time or drive to become really, really good.

The lack of a consistent and patient partner was also part of the problem. Tonight, I went to a workshop, expecting the usual, tons of followers and no leaders. Tonight, we had three leaders and one follower. Good thing the two instructors could both follow. But my point is, it's much better to practice and work out kinks with a consistent partner, so you can both go social dancing and be more confident with dancing with others.

Steve once posted asking for a date. It seems to have worked out pretty well.

Let's see if this works for finding a dance partner.

Criteria:

Must really want to learn how to lindy hop

Must have some sort of rhythm

Previous dance experience a plus (but not necessarily swing experience)

Must have time and resources to devote

Must be patient with the lead

Must be able to put up with me

Ok! Let's have it then. If you know anyone that fits the bill (and whom you know is interested or have asked to make sure), please let me know. I'm looking to start immediately.

No crazies, please (I'm crazy enough). Unless they are crazy about dancing. You can email me info at vlotty_at_comcast_dot_net.

Oh, and if you know anyone looking for a date too, send them my way. I promise I'm gentleman, usually. Same criteria that Steve set in his June 6 post seems good to me!

Thanks in advance.

Dancing feet

So today, I decided to get off my butt and do something about the things I want to do. I went to a lindy hop workshop this morning and later met up with a friend to go dancing in Central Park. During the summers, they have this thing called "Central Park Swings" where live bands visit each weekend and there's an outdoor swing dance. This was also a big weekend for swing dancers, as it was the Count Basie Centennial Ball, with events all weekend.

Today was just the kick in the butt I needed to jumpstart things. I'm planning on taking lessons to brush up on my dancing skills and I intend on getting good enough to go social dancing again.

I've also decided I will find a way to play tennis again.

It's strange because these are things I love to do, but I haven't gone out to do them. There were always excuses - like I'm too tired, it's too expensive, etc. I don't know what the barriers are sometimes to doing things like this, but I'm gonna break them down.

Out of his league

Although I don't think I'm particularly qualified to comment on politics (as evidenced by an earlier post), I will have to say this about tonight's presidential debate:

President Bush was thoroughly outclassed tonight.

Bush sounded uninformed on any issues that he hasn't already demonstrated a simple visceral reaction to (e.g. "Ugh, Saddam bad, therefore, invasion good!"). He also repeated himself again tonight and often sounded like he was whining. A very defensive performance. It reminds me of when you just can't justify your position anymore (and you're perhaps slightly inebriated), so you start saying things like, "Well, you're stupid!" and "At least my car ain't all beat up!"

I think one of the most ridiculous moments that Bush had tonight was toward the end when he responded to Kerry's point about the partial birth abortion ban. Kerry had just explained, rather clearly, why he voted against the ban. Kerry said the bill was too uncompromising to the point that it left no provisions for the safety of the mother or victims of incest and rape. Although I haven't read the bill, Bush's response just hit home the fact that he has very limited powers of reasoning.

"A vote is a vote. Simple as that. He voted against a partial birth abortion ban." (Or something like that) is what Bush said.

I think any marginally intelligent person will see right away that Bush was oversimplifying waaay too much on that one.

Another interesting moment was when Bush, in explaining how he would make a bench appointment decision, made the statement that the slavery was never a part of the Constitution. I guess his reasoning was, most people today, even the most right wing of his supporters will probably agree that you can't justify slavery under the Constitution. Unfortunately, Bush is dead wrong.

Slavery was sanctioned in the Constitution (albeit the word "slave" or "slavery" did not appear in the document) and the effects of slavery and discrimination were not dealt with definitively in the law until the mid 1960s with the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act. It's just another example of how our president has such a lack of understanding of history and the Constitution (and I imagine other things, given his ineloquence) that it's scary.

It's also very difficult to listen to Bush when everything he says sounds like spin on fact and news you hear every day to the contrary.

While I don't think Kerry is the ideal candidate, I do think the choice between Kerry and Bush is clear. The worst thing about this presidential race is having to choose the lesser of two evils. The best thing is the opportunity to deny the most divisive and dangerously singleminded president in recent memory a second term.

Don't forget to vote.

While we're talking about voting, don't forget to vote on my most recent poll. It's a very important issue to me at this point in my life.

A bit personal, don't you think?

So I've tried to refrain from posting anything too personal. I suppose it's just part of the fact that most people are messed up (or as I like to say, "quirky" or "eccentric", but basically you're unstable) in some way or other. Thus, my not posting anything personal is just one more way that I keep people from knowing how screwed up I really am.

But, lately, I really don't care anymore. Because everyone is crazy. If you think you're not, then you're even more crazy than I am.

It seems the surest way to bring out most of the things that show how messed up someone is or can be is through relationships (or the pursuit thereof). It is during these times that I can totally unwind, albeit termporarily. This is when thoughts of resurrecting the stalking skills honed in the teen and college years come back, and you say and do stupid things.

So some of you are reading this and thinking, "Geez. This guy is scary unstable. He's some sort of crazy." But I disagree. I think everyone is basically crazy. It's what you do with that crazy that matters. Sure, I've sent my fair share of black roses and left my fair share of decapitated rodents on doorsteps, but that doesn't mean that I'm not a good person. Who's crazier? The person who is co-dependent or dependent, or the person who sends the occasional dismembered rat?

I would argue it's the former. But in any case, I don't think any of this is a sign of a lack of self-esteem (which is what some of you may be thinking at this point). Just because you're always asking, "Why won't anyone love me?" doesn't mean you don't love yourself. Although, I do think loving yourself exclusively isn't that healthy for too long. A lack of self-esteem I think would result in dependency, or something like that.

I'm also kind of bummed because I'm realizing more and more as I get older that I don't have a stable, routine group of friends to hang out with anymore. This makes me sad because if I feel like going to see a movie, I either have to ask an acquaintance, wait for a good friend to come to town, or go by myself. Not that I can't watch movies by myself, but it's not very fun and I don't like people looking at me with pity. Making new friends is hard to do, and it takes years before you have the friend that you can just hang out with. Which brings me to... I think all I need is to have a series of intense and meaningless flings. I think that would solve my problems forthwith.

I am capable of much worse

What would happen to me if I went to prison? (and for hypotheticals' sake - let's say something grisly, like the unabashed hacking apart of innocent passersby with a rusted axe during rush hour on a subway platform, and let's also say that some of the victims were unfortunately flung over the side of the platform as an express train was passing through)

While I believe myself to be a reasonable person, and usually very peaceloving, I think that if I were to be sent to prison, and depending on the culture, I could be among the most cold and ruthless there. I don't think I would be getting out of prison early on good behavior at all if it took toughness to survive.

Yes, some of you will think that I'm not all that tough. But what I'm talking about is not necessarily physical toughness, it's mental toughness. I think that I would be able to completely separate my conscience from action if required. I would not hesitate to pull out your eyeballs, bite off your fingers, or stab you with a pen.

I would not hesitate to try and snap your neck from behind, or smash your skull in with the foot of a table.

I would not hesitate to rip your external genitalia off and then smash it between my hands.

I would not hesitate to call you bad names.

I would not hesitate to neglect to return your call.

What I really fear

Happened to catch some of "Fear Factor" tonight while at the gym. As usual, there was the part where the contestants eat something really disgusting. This time, it was road kill at the "Road Kill Cafe". They were eating what looked to be entrails, buzzing with flies, and crawling with maggots. I believe there were chunks of testicle or something like that in the mix.

Three really hot girls (the "All Girl Fear Factor"), each of whom ate a healthy portion of absolutely rancid and gruesome road kill innards.

Which brings me to my question. Would you be willing to ever kiss a woman who had eaten the decaying remains of roadkill, sprinkled with live and dead maggots?

Step 1

So I finally took the LSATs. I think in many ways, this is among the more grueling tests you can take. It's not more grueling because it's necessarily harder, or longer (certainly not longer than the MCATs). It's more grueling because the stakes are so high. From what I can tell, no other test is weighed so heavily in admissions as the LSAT - and you really only have one good chance to take it. Why? Law schools typically average your scores. So that means if you get a 160 on your first try, and a 170 on your second (which is pretty damn good - 99th percentile), most schools will look at you like you got a 165. There is a lot of pressure to not screw up the first time.

I think the part that is most anxiety-causing is the hour and half prior to the test. The official reporting time is 8:30am, and of course, everyone gets there like 8:00am or earlier. The process of filing in and taking seats takes 30+ minutes, and when it's all said and done, we didn't start the test until after 9:00am. That's 1.5 hours of just sitting around with nothing to do but be nervous (you're not allowed cell phones, music players, etc).

Something that is also very interesting about sitting in that room - if I end up going to law school, there is a good chance that these people sitting in this room will be my peers.

I'm pretty exhausted right now. I'm so exhausted that I'm not tired.

Ownership beats renting

I've decided that I would rather buy than rent. It seems this is usually the better course of action in all arenas of life (e.g. car, house).

I think the primary reason why I think buying is better is that the challenge of buying makes it much more fun, and in the end, rewarding. Even though the process is much more drawn out (you have to do research, a lot of planning, there's a lot of uncertainty, things could fall through, it could take months), ultimately, it's much more satisfying than plopping down some exorbitant amount of money for fleeting pleasure.

There is the one downside - it might not work out. You might not be able to get that dream car you always wanted. I guess it's in that situation that you wonder about renting.

On another note, I wish that if you overate one day, that it would truly carryover to the next day. Like a car, if I fill up too much, it will take longer before my car is thirsty again. With me, if I fill up too much (for example, with sweet, sweet, barbecue ribs), I'm hungry again the next day, even though I clearly ate too much the previous day.

My theory is that whatever is mentioned last in a post is generally what gets commented on.

SBD

For some reason, when it rains in NYC, it pours. Today, it was raining so hard, it was all you could do to avoid getting soaked. This is even with an umbrella. Not only do you get wet, but everyone else being wet just makes you feel disgusting.

On the train, it's already barely tolerable when it gets crowded and everyone is squished up against you. I didn't think it could get worse, until everyone is wet and cranky.

To top it all off... hypothetically, imagine if someone had bad flatulence and couldn't help but let it loose. Given that nobody can move, it's wet and disgusting, and everyone's cranky... plus, there's no way you can tell who did it. That's what makes it such a guilty pleasure.

muhaha. (hypothetically, of course)

Buses are F-U-N

Prior to coming to NYC, I disliked buses. In fact, I eschewed them, favoring rail transportation or subway transportation if I had to take mass transit. Part of the reason is that in Chicago and Atlanta, the two previous cities I've spent any significant amount of time in with any sort of usable mass transit, the buses were not all that great.

However, in NYC, buses are my favorite. There are several reasons. First, I can almost always get a seat on the bus. Second, it's usually climate-controlled better. Third, I can see the trees and the birds and the sun. Fourth, I can peoplewatch.

It feels less claustrophobic, and waiting for a bus is usually pleasant, because you are outdoors (when the weather is nice).

Plus, you can't beat a bus for short distances. I love hopping on and hopping off buses.

The Cookies Always Know

Got a fortune cookie today that said:

"Even love sometimes shows re-runs."

Anyone have thoughts on what that means?

To Rent, or to Buy

I feel I will need to apologize in advance for the vulgar connotations of this particular post. I think many guys will understand where I'm coming from, and have probably had the thought cross their minds, even if they won't admit it.

Recently I started thinking, 'If my dream is to have the experience of driving a Ferrari, why not just pay the money and make it happen?'

I think the idea is that what is within my reach is to buy a nice family car. Maybe a slightly sporty one, like a Mini Cooper or a Honda Accord. But my dream, along with most other guys is to have a shot at a Ferrari or Lamborghini or some other disgustingly expensive, beautiful, powerful and sexy car.

The only way to have that shot for most of us will be to pay an exorbitant sum to rent it maybe for a day. But in the end, maybe it's worth it. Then you can say you've had the experience, and can move on, and settle in nicely with your Honda Accord or Toyota Camry, also very nice cars in their own right.

To be perfectly honest, I'd much rather have my trusty, dependable, slightly sleek and comfortable Camry over a Ferrari that I'd be afraid would get stolen or scratched. Plus, I'd probably have to put much more money up front into a car like a Ferrari and much more money on top of that to keep it running smooth.

So in the end, the best compromise may be to go and rent the Ferrari, but buy and love the Camry.

Guys, you know what I'm talking about.

Why do I believe?

Why on Earth do I still harbor, deep down, this belief that Northwestern could possibly have a shot at the Big 10 championship and perhaps a shot at a major bowl game each year? They have been dismal the last three years. They are good maybe every 15-25 years.

This year, they are better than they have been the last three years, playing respectable games against tough opponents (despite losing by more than 25 points today). Still, having a respectable showing is no substitute for winning.

I really shouldn't have bet that NU would win today.

Am I really that shallow?

Today I attended a happy hour hosted by a former coworker/friend. She's a part of a social club that hosts all sorts of events, and I thought I'd check it out, because, as I'd mentioned in previous posts, it's hard to meet people in NYC.

Anyway, it seemed to be pretty cool, there were young twentysomethings, a few thirtysomethings, but everyone seemed young at heart and were pretty laid back.

Then, this guy showed up. He was probably early thirties (he looked like he was my dad's age though) and quite fobby (he had a very noticeable Asian accent, and bad teeth). Ok, so the teeth thing isn't his fault, especially if he can't afford dental work. I understand that. But he literally looked like he was the type to hang out with my parents. He was attending a social event with twentysomethings. The difference between him and us was all the foreign Chinese chemistry grad students and econ or history undergrads.

Now, I just wrote a post previously about how I simply dislike people just 'cause. Now I'm writing about how I think I'm cooler than someone else (because obviously, I am). I don't know. He's probably a cool guy. But I just can't get over the fact that he looks like my dad's friend.

I hadn't had anything to eat, and I had two beers and a shot of tequila in a little less than an hour and half. That was probably not a good idea. Somehow, I got the hiccups on the way home. I can only imagine how that must have looked. Alcohol on my breath. Hiccups. Perhaps slightly flushed (damn lack of alcohol dehydrogenase).

So, my thoughts on this week's Apprentice, even though this is a day late. I don't think Stacie acted so crazy as to warrant the accusations that all the women were levying upon her. I think she got excited, or perhaps a little stressed. Everyone gets like that - it's all good. I wouldn't say it was enough to make anyone feel physically threatened (such that you would have to "hide in a corner"). Honestly, I think race had something to do with it. These women weren't frightened of Stacie, they were uncomfortable interacting with her and wanted her out. Yes, they didn't even like each other, as Trump so astutely pointed out, but I'm sure their desire to win the contest outweighed any dislike they had for each other.

That's the thing with race also - it's hard to rule it out as a factor, and I think it's unrealistic to discount it.

Crazies

Everyone always seems to think everyone else is crazy. It's never you, it's always that other dude. Oh, and it's not your close friends either, it's everyone else.

By that measure, everyone must be crazy in their own right. There must exist a infinite number of possible universes (which are bound by each person's worldview, core values and likes/dislikes) in which that person and their associates are "normal" or "alright" and everyone else is crazy or jerks.

A few years ago, I thought I had matured to the point where I didn't truly dislike anyone anymore. What was the point? Everyone's just different. Why can't we all just get along?

I was wrong. There are people I just dislike. I dislike them because I think they're an idiot, because I find them so physically unattractive that I can't be near them, because we have completely opposite worldviews (which probably leads to me thinking they're an idiot or naive), because they have zero sense of humor, because they don't like sushi, because they don't like Zoolander, because any number of things.

So much for maturity. But at least I am aware of it and I accept it.

You don't know me

Today as I was going home on the subway (the famously overcrowded 4-5-6 line), miraculously, all these seats opened up. I get on at Grand Central, where a lot of people get off to get on Metro-North or connect westbound.

So, I sat down. This would save a lot of trouble with people squeezing in later, plus people weren't really sitting down, so why waste a seat?

Two stops up, these very old ladies get on. By then, the train had gotten more crowded. They walked into the car facing away from me, and the taller lady tried to hold the overhead bar, but couldn't really reach it. Just a second or two after, the second lady, who appeared even older appeared. She was even shorter and had no hope of reaching the bar.

Now this goes back to an earlier post (8/30/04) by Eddy about giving up seats to the elderly, especially older women.

At that moment, I thought, I should give up my seat to that woman. Now picture the scene: I'm sitting by the door on the opposite side of where that woman was. There are all these people squeezed in, such that you could barely move.

Before I could offer my seat (because in these situations, I typically have this weird delay time of like 5-10 seconds), this woman on the other side closest to where the old women were gave up her seat. This shamed the riders seated next to her to also give up their seats.

Ok, so problem solved. I stayed in my seat.

Except the first woman who gave up her seat ends up standing basically right in front of me and starts talking to two adjacent riders who are also standing about why she gave up her seat, about how her grandmother who was 90 just passed away and she could barely walk and she would hate to see someone's grandmother not get a seat on the train and how she was just raised like that, blah blah. Then she proceeded to relate a story about another time on a bus when she gave up her seat and this 17 year old boy refused to get up and give up his seat.

What's wrong with that? She made a plain gesture toward me when she said "this 17 year old". I was already pissed off today about other things, and this almost made me lose it. LADY. YOU DON'T KNOW ME. DON'T PRESUME TO KNOW WHAT I'M ABOUT.

I really wanted to say something, like, "Are you referring to me? " and continue to go off on her, especially since I was about to give up my seat before she did. But I was so angry I decided against it. You really should assume the best in others, and I suppose this goes both ways. But in this case, I will presume she is a self-righteous person who assumes and meddles.

On a more positive note, even though I would love to be 2" taller, today I saw two really tall guys with major problems as a result of being tall. One couldn't fit into the bus seats (his legs were too long), and another hit his head on the metal overhead bar as he stood up to disembark. I guess anything can be a curse.

Retribution

Last night, I intended to go to the gym for my twice-weekly cardio tai box class (that I know Steve secretly likes) and then maybe do some weights.

However, instead, I fell asleep at 6:45pm and did not awake until 7:30am the next morning. Yes, I slept for 12 hours and 45 minutes, missing dinner along the way.

I did not awaken unscathed - I had two unsettling dreams. Was this punishment for sleeping so much and missing my workout?

The first dream had something to do with being in someone's rather large house. There were lots of stairs and rooms. Everyone was asleep. I was in there with a few other people, and I can't remember why I was there, but I was trying to get out. Apparently, three or four men lived in this house. One woke up and was going to the bathroom. He saw me and I was forced to lock him in the bathroom.

I snuck around the house trying to escape without detection. Unfortunately, I ended up dispatching the remaining roommates on my way out of the house. I believe I dispatched them with a silencer-equipped gun.

The second dream involved an insect that had attached itself to my houseplant. In my dream, this houseplant was very important to me, like an old family friend, but apparently, I had not been taking care of it properly and it was growing out of control. It needed pruning. Luckily, my sister drove a miniature spaceship replete with miniature missiles. Well, at first the plant was sitting at the top of a window on the frame. I took aim with the miniature spaceship and fired. I missed - and expected an unfortunate explosion. Instead, the plant fell (insect and all) to the ground and the missile lodged in the shades, unexploded.

The next part consisted of trying to get the missle down safely, near the insect so I could detonate it and destroy the insect (don't ask me why the plant would still be OK, but somehow it would be). Well, I finally got the missile to detonate (but by this time, the missle turned into a white capsule looking thing). I was knocked off my feet, and opened my eyes in time to see the insect shake itself, generating what looked like rain that fell from its underside, and then escape through the open front door.

I looked out the door to see, with disappointment, the insect hop in my car and drive off.

It was a sad moment indeed, to have my car stolen by an alien insect.

Knowing that dreams are often our subconscious minds speaking to us, making sense of what we've experienced or learned, I spent maybe a minute trying to decipher the meaning of these two dreams.

I'm baffled.

Time to talk politics

Most of my posts are the "Seinfeld"-eque type observations on everyday life or things that happen to me.

Well, today, I want to try my hand at some light political commentary.

Even though I don't think Kerry is the ideal presidential candidate (and Edwards definitely makes the package more palatable), I think he is definitely better than the vacuous alternative and incumbent. I am at best frightened that Bush might win the presidency again, continuing on his path of destroying all semblance of international cooperation and thus alienating our allies, provoking governments like North Korea toward drastic action, and systematically destroying domestic institutions like public education and social security.

It confounds me that any sort of majority can possibly think Bush is doing a good job as president, even as he erodes our personal liberties (which, I believe the Republicans believe in?? Less government involvement?). Not to mention - even though he's simply a puppet for his father's big-oil interests and Vice President Cheney, he is easily the least eloquent, and, despite being educated at Yale and Harvard, appears to be the poorest educated president in recent memory. That alone should alarm people. You want a president you feel is smarter than you.

In lieu of a concluding statement, all I will say is I hope I don't lose it if Bush wins.

Points of no return

Just like in Harold & Kumar go to White Castle, there are situations where there is simply a point of no return.

In the movie, the point of no return to go back and get a cell phone (I think it was) was something like twenty feet from the apartment.

Well, I think you basically only have one shot to introduce yourself to someone you see on a daily basis - that is, unless something new happens that gives you an opening comes up.

But in most cases, say, you wait at a bus stop every day at the same time, and there's someone that waits with you at the same time every day, if you don't break the ice the first time you see them, then it will become increasingly awkward to introduce yourself.

In the same vein, if you meet someone and then promptly forget their name (like I often do), with each passing moment that you don't ask for their name again, it becomes increasingly impossible to ask again.

Any other points of no return?

Hairy bellies

Usually I love riding the subway in New York. It's just convenient and pretty fast (unless you have to transfer).

However, during rush hour, riding the subway is pretty brutal. They're really crowded and people push and pull to get on. It's worse if the air conditioning happens to go out on the car that you happen to get on.

Today, I'm standing in the middle of the car headed back home on the 1-9, which is crowded even on weekends. We were packed almost to the brim, and this woman (who happens to be Asian), pushed her way onto the train and decided that she would try to move past me. I lean forward and am almost on top of this man who is sitting with his eyes closed.

Except... she didn't move past me. She thought she would stop right behind me. So I'm off-kilter and using all my strength to try not to fall over onto this man in front of me and not get thrown to either side when the train starts or stops. All I could think about was how annoyed I was at this woman.

Anyway, everyone finally starts getting off around Times Square. I get a seat (yes!) but this lady gets on and stand right in front of me. Normally, I'm all fine with a lady standing in front of me, except this one was forty or so, short, pudgy and her shirt didn't cover her all the way. Thus, I was treated to the sight of a hairy belly button. I think on men they're called "love trails", but somehow, it didn't seem to work on a woman.

Sorry, ladies - I don't know if it's instinctual or if it's socialized, but women are just not allowed to be hairy. I think men look better not hairy too, but it seems to be OK.

So that's this post. The hairy belly inspired me.

Lesser organisms and the smell of fear

So lately, remnants of my brother staying at my apartment have resulted in the proliferation of fruit flies. I would say somewhere on the order of 10-20 fruit flies resided in my apartment over the last two weeks. I finally decided to get rid of them.

Apparently, you can use red wine vinegar (it has to be red wine vinegar so it's like a fermented fruit) in the bottom of a bottle to attract fruit flies. You pour some into a bottle with a small neck, and the fruit flies fly in and eventually drown in the vinegar.

Anyway, the attracting part was working, but I was getting impatient for the drowning bit - and the flies were sort of hanging out on the outside of the bottle. So I decided to speed up the process by taking a ziploc bag, opening it, and then putting it on top of the bottle so that the flies would fly into the bag, at which point I would take the bag, close it, and squash each fly caught.

The first 10 or so were easy. However, after that, it got harder and harder to catch them this way.

I wonder if they can smell the death of their fellow fruit flies. I wonder if they smell the fear of other flies trying to escape being squashed, and that's why they fly away with more urgency (because sometimes, they just sort of hover, other times, they jet!).

Anyway, it's been a great challenge killing these fruit flies. I think there are still three left.

Less oxygen to the brain = more fun

You know, I used to be one of those people who thought, 'What's the point of alcohol? You don't need booze to have fun!'

Well, I've changed my mind. I think alcohol makes things much more fun. You do things you wouldn't normally do (because you no longer care about social convention) and you say things you normally wouldn't say (for the same reasons), and everyone seems much more open.

Why isn't that a good thing? I mean, not that I think everyone should be constantly buzzed, but it sure would make life that much more interesting.

Plus, you can always claim not to remember saying something or doing something the next day. It's win-win.

Drink responsibly. Don't drink and drive. Also, don't drink and blog. Definitely don't feed alcohol to puppies and kittens.

I (sometimes) sweat the small stuff

Ok, so I think I just wrote a post recently that I don't worry about things that I can't control.

However, I can sometimes get REALLY, REALLY annoyed about little things that go wrong that I can control.

Yesterday, such a thing happened. The day before, I was carrying a lot of stuff, so I took my monthly, unlimited (and expensive) metrocard out of my wallet and put it in my shirt pocket for easy access. Worked well.

Yesterday, I go through my usual morning routine, get to the bus stop and wait for my bus, as usual. Finally, the bus comes. It's at this moment that I pull out my wallet and realize that I left my unlimited metrocard at home, still in the shirt pocket. It was a good thing I had my backup card - but I was really annoyed that I was now paying extra to ride the bus when I had an unlimited metrocard.

I contemplated going home to get my unlimited metrocard, but then, I would have been late to work. Plus, I had already waited 5 minutes for this bus to come. It would probably take me 5 minutes to walk home, another 5 minutes to walk back to the bus stop, and another 5 minute wait before the bus would show. This just annoyed me further.

I spent most of the day thinking about how stupid it was to leave my unlimited card at home. Not only that, but this meant that my route home would be limited because I wouldn't have the freedom to leave the subway and get back on if I wanted to (not that I really needed it - but it was just the thought).

In some cases, I am more annoyed with wasting money than I am with wasting time, but both really bother me. In this case, I was wasting money (it ended up being $8.00 over the course of the day), which I chose over wasting the time to go get the unlimited card. Even though in the long run, $8.00 is a drop in the bucket, it still incenses me. I mean, $8.00 almost enough to get a family bucket of KFC fried chicken!

I could have enjoyed a bucket of fried chicken, but no. I left my unlimited metrocard at home.

Being "well-rounded" is a curse

This is somewhat inspired by Scrabble Lover's comment a few posts back, and fueled by recent deliberations about what I want my future to be like.

You hear all through high school that it's good to be well-rounded. Well, surprise, I actually listened and now I desire to be well-rounded. What does this mean for me? It means I want to be athletic (or play sports, and be good at at least one), it means I want to hone some musical skill (for me, I hope to rekindle my dormant potential for trombone), have reasonable social skills, be good enough at Halo to beat Andy, be well organized, be well read, be politically savvy, be articulate, be creative in some way (either writing, visual arts, or both), be an OK breakdancer, be a reasonable martial artist, be flexible enough to do a split, be able to do front and back handsprings, be a decent ballroom dancer, be an epicure and a decent chef, understand wines and other drinks, properly learn my mother tongue... you get the picture. This is only a short list of the things I want to be reasonably good at.

I realized last night at cardio tai box class that I just don't have time for all of this. I mean, when would I have time to do all this? I don't even have time right now to take my martial arts classes AND go to my gym. Plus, I have to watch my special TV shows like Enterprise, Top Model, and Alias. This becomes even a bigger issue when you consider pursuing a career.

I don't think there's any career that you can pursue that will give you enough time to do all the things you want to do. If I wanted to be a doctor, I would spend all my time at the hospital. If I wanted to be a lawyer, I'd spend all my time at the firm. If I wanted to be a director, I'd spend all my time working on my films. Any real career will be something like 12+ hour workdays. I can't think of any career that I would want to do that would allow me time to pursue hobbies, save for one or two very focused ones. Unless, I were to a) get really filthy rich and just not work (but usually hard work is what leads to wealth - you don't really see Trump painting, he spends all his time doing business, even when he's not doing business) or b) take a 9-5 job with no real responsibility, some sort of mindless work.

Now, I totally respect people who either choose to or have to take such jobs. But I would go crazy. I also can't deny that I would feel like the work was a little demeaning, despite how much I'd tell myself that it was a choice.

I just want it all. I probably can't have it all - I just hope I don't die disappointed.

Double standard?

I've decided that it's almost impossible for men to be sexually harassed. I don't know about other men, but I think I could take some unwanted sexual advances. It's almost flattering. I think guys are so used to being the aggressors, it's almost refreshing when girls take some initiative. Unless the woman was extremely unattractive, I don't think any guy would feel strongly enough about an unwanted sexual advance to say anything about it. Then again, I don't think sex usually plays any role in a man's career opportunities, so that's another way that it's different, I suppose.

In other news, New York City got record rainfall today. It took me two hours to get to work, when usually it takes me 25 minutes. You couldn't get on a subway or bus or cab if you wanted to. I was lucky and was able to squeeze onto a bus, but only after I was already 1.5 hours late. I think a lot of people were stressed out, but lately, I don't get stressed about about that kind of stuff anymore - what can you do? It's out of your control. And usually things turn out OK anyway. So why worry? (This, despite my being known as a "worry wart" in 6th grade)

What if... & Stereotypes

You always think that if you were in a certain situation, you might act or feel differently than what you hear other people doing, or what you observe. Or, at least you'd like to think that you are different, maybe better.

Today, while waiting for the bus, I overheard two women talking behind me. They were talking about a man that one of the woman had been seeing. After a lengthy discussion about some phone calls and how the man seemed indifferent, yet harped on minutiae (indicating some attachment, I suppose), they decided that you can't do anything about men - they they'll try to have a woman and a girl on the side if they could.

I'm standing there thinking, "Naw, I'd never do that." Yet, if I really think deep down, I must admit - I can't say that I would never consider it. I guess it just gives credence to conventional wisdom.

Later, on the bus ride home, there are these middle or high school kids in the way back-two boys and three girls. School just started up again in New York City. These kids were obviously from some prep school, given a) their race b) their dress and c) how they were behaving. They gave off a distinctly pretentious and sophmoric aura. Of course, the boys had tousled, wavy medium length hair, and the girls had braces, pristine, straight hair and perfect complexions. One of the boys was lounging with his head in the lap of one of the girls, and the whole time, he was speaking in half-pseudo-French, which was a bit annoying.

The whole time, all I could think about was the movie Igby Goes Down. And about how much these kids seemed to match the stereotype of stuck-up, pretentious prep school kids portrayed in that movie and what seems to be the commonly accepted image of prep school kids. Why would you act that way, knowing you come across as a rich, spoiled snob? Or, maybe, they don't even realize it.

Back to the future

I don't know if it's everyone I know talking about what their future plans are (or lack therof) that's making me think about my future plans too.

At the moment, I think I have plans. My plans are to take the LSATs and apply to law schools, perhaps joint law/mpp programs.

However, today, on the commute home I got to thinking. What do I really want out of life? Will I be happy having a good job, and perhaps having upward mobility but doing something not terribly meaningful? I guess the meaning would come from attaining status, but that in itself, is not appealing to me (though I'll admit, I can't totally shun the allure of status/power).

On the other hand, I have a passion for working with children and non-profit type work, where the work has a direct impact on the people you're trying to help.

And on my third hand, I enjoy creating, building, making. I've always though industrial design would be great fun.

So I guess my dilemma is I don't want to specialize. I want to do it all, but I have to prioritize what I'm going to invest my energy and time into. Am I going to work on a law degree and get experience that will let me perhaps start a company and make things happen? Am I going to get the training I need to do work in the public sector? Am I going to go a different route than I've gone currently and try to break into the world of industrial design?

They will all require a significant investment in time, effort and money. But which of my interests/passions am I willing to place on the back burner or relegate to a hobby or perhaps retirement activity?

The pressure is great - because you don't want to get stuck doing something you hate, or live wondering "what if".

My greatest weakness?

Anyone who knows me know that it's very, very difficult for me not to finish the food on my plate. I feel really bad if there is any food leftover, and often, I'll eat until I'm too full. (Thank goodness for doggie bags) It's just the way I was raised - you don't waste food. I will eat my rice until the last grain, I will drink my soup to the last drop, and I will make a random stew from whatever tidbits are left in my fridge (before it all goes south, of course).

Along those lines, I can't resist free food. Part of it is I don't want it to go to waste (since usually, everything is thrown out afterward). The other part, is... I don't know! Maybe it's still residual programming from college, but if there's free food around, I have to check it out. I often have to make myself not eat anything or take anything (because usually I'm not hungry or I don't have anywhere to put the food at the time).

What's worse, is if I'm hungry, and I see "free" food out, but it's not put out expressly for me (or whatever group I'm with), then I have a weird inner dilemma. On the one hand, I'm hungry. And I like to take advantage of not having to spend money on food as much as possible (the frugal side of me). On the other hand, the food isn't really for me. But usually, the food is leftover, or whomever it was for has finished (you know, like buffets set out for conferences, etc). So I take some. But I feel really guilty.

Yesterday, I also saw this lady on the subway asking everyone for money to help feed her children. Her story was that her husband died recently, she lost her job, and her relatives won't help. So far, nothing new. You will see this on the subway all the time. What was different, was this woman was white. And she looked fairly OK, in terms of not what you think when you think someone who is asking for handouts. I think more people gave money to her because of that. You never know when the need is real, though, because you always hear about people who panhandle and make good money, live in an apartment, etc.

However, I also know how desperate you must be if you are an honest, hardworking person to have to ask for money. Once, I was at the airport and I literally was short 40 cents for my train fare home. I didn't have any more cash, and I didn't have my wallet for some reason. I ran through my options, and I ended up asking strangers for change so that I could get 40 cents to make my fare. It's just 40 cents right? But that's always the story you hear when panhandlers come - "I just need enough money to take the bus home. Please help me with some change." That must have been how I sounded. Most people just walked by and gave me nasty looks. But a few people actually helped me and I scraped together the 40 cents I needed. I wonder if the fact that I looked like an innocuous Asian kid helped.

I also wonder how you can tell if the story people are telling is for real or not. How can you truly judge need?

Authentic assessments

In education, you'll hear a lot of talk about "authentic assessments" or "authentic projects". The idea is that it doesn't make sense to teach in a vacuum - like multiplication drills. You want to teach with context, something that is meaningful (hence, authentic). I've found that I learn best when I am using the information I'm learning in some meaningful way (e.g learning about programming by trying to write a program that will be useful to me). Then, when you test something, you don't want to just test 2x2=?, you want to text if the student can apply that concept in a real-world situation ("authentic assessment"), so you might set up a problem that requires the student demonstrate an understanding of the concept of multiplication.

Anyway, I'm bringing this up because I don't think dating is very authentic, at least not in the beginning. It's like a fishbowl. You set up as carefully as possible the activity, and throughout the activity, you are not at ease because you're trying hard to make a good impression. (I know some of you are going to be like, "Just be yourself!", but that's easier said than done, when you don't know someone and you don't want them to take one of your idiosyncrasies and paint you as weird) You don't want to scare someone off before you've had a chance to get to know each other.

The best friendships I have now have been cultivated slowly, over many years, through authentic activities - no pretenses. Through Monday-Friday night cards, through after school activities, sports, student groups, living in the same hall, just hanging out. Some have taken years before I would consider them an "A-friend" as Eddy puts it.

So even though you're supposed to "just be yourself", dating can only be but a game in the beginning. Don't you think?

Yoga

I tried yoga (vinyasa) for the first time today. Having done various martial arts before, I thought this would be no sweat. I mean, how hard could it be? It's just some stationary poses, done very slowly.

But man. It's hard. I almost didn't last the whole 75 minutes and I certainly didn't do everything properly. And the other day, I did this class called "ultimate conditioning". It's pretty grueling. But the thing is, there are these people, about 10-15, who do a 45 minute spinning class by the same instructor just prior! I could barely survive the one class, I don't know how people survive both.

Watching Olympic track also is amazing. Tonight they showed the men's 800 meters. They ran each lap in 52 seconds or less. I remember running the 400 meters in middle school, and I felt like I was running at an all out sprint the whole way, and barely made it. My time? 66 seconds. I just can't imagine running as fast as these guys and not being completely winded at the end.

Anyway, back to my diet and exercise.

I bit the bullet

First, thanks for everyone's advice. I decided to bite the bullet and call. Part of me was hoping she wouldn't pick up so I could just leave a message, or not leave one at all and just wait for her to call back.

Anyway, she picked up.

I apologized for not calling earlier, told her that I finished up my summer job (that she knew all about) recently, and was busy with starting a new one. Asked her how she was, and then made small talk, and told her how I was studying for the LSATs and applying to schools this fall.

I ended it by saying that I just wanted to call and see how things were, and then I said I had to go.

Not optimal, I know - because I didn't definitively say one way or another what I was thinking, but I think the call gave her an idea of where things stand.

How did I do?

Online dating update, and advice?

Ok. So for some background, you can refer to my Sunday, July 11th post titled "First Date".

Well, this is what has happened since our first date.

She told me during our date that she was heading down to South Carolina for a road trip with her sister, and that it would be a weeklong trip. 'Ok by me,' I thought. This would give me a chance to just relax without having to think about what to do next.

She calls me and leaves a message the following week, after her trip. She says, 'Just got back, wanted to see what you're up to.' or something similar. That was like last week of July.

I haven't called her back.

Why? Like I said in my previous post, I just didn't feel any chemistry. No connection, really. I know it was just a first date, but there wasn't anything to intrigue me enough to want to go on a second date. Now, I'm sure that if we had to spend time together in some other capacity (say, at work, or through an activity, but not in the context of dating), I would get to know her, and then she and I may have become friends, and I would enjoy hanging out with her.

In this case, I'm not sure, and it's hard to put forth effort to try and get to know someone you're not all that interested in. And to be very honest, it's not just her personality (although the online dating service claims to match people on their personalities, interests, and values) - I also don't find her particularly physically attractive. She's not ugly or anything, just not my cup of tea. I guess it doesn't help that I have a very specific type of tea that I like.

If I were to call her, it would basically be to invest in something that might provide further opportunities (e.g. expanding my social circle), but I wouldn't feel good about doing it under the pretense of dating. I guess I would have to lay it all out.

I consulted a few people, and the consensus was, just don't call back. It's better than calling and saying, "You're not what I'm interested in, sorry." or "Not interested in dating, but let's be friends."

Obviously, this is still bothering me. I feel terrible about just not having called back, even if what I have to say may not be pleasant. And who knows? Maybe it's mutual. As hard as I try, and even though I keep hearing girls like guys who are jerks (at least in some way), I don't like being a jerk. I guess this is why nice guys always finish last.

Anyway, I'd love to know what everyone thinks. Is it past the point of no return? Should I call and just tell the truth? If so, how should I say it? Should I try to be friends with her? Should I just forget about it?

You can either comment, or vote on my new poll question.

A Woman I Could love

I've just recently discovered the woman that could, quite possibly, be my one, only, true love. She is perfect in many ways, but mostly because she has a special talent.

Her name is Sonya Thomas.

Not only is she cute:

Hi, Sonya!

But she is the world record holder for competitive lobster eating and a top competitor in many other events!

She's got a great game face too:

Look at her take on the guys!

Isn't she dreamy?

The best one of all...

Model material...

Mm... she can crack my shell any day

Another reason why she is my perfect mate:

I know for a fact she LOVES meat!

Plus, she's single.

Anglo-centric Olympiad?

Anyone else notice that even though the Olympics are being held in Athens, Greece, everything that you can see from the television broadcast is in English? Names of athletes/countries on uniforms, advertisements, placards, signs. Why isn't any of it in the native language?

Learning the Game

A couple weeks ago, I headed down to Staten Island after I was done with institute, since Dave was heading back home and said he would give me a ride. Plus, this would be a good opportunity to see a bit of Staten Island (that's three of five boroughs now), and see this infestation he was talking about (that I really looked forward to).

Anyway, as I was waiting at the ferry stop on the island for Dave, I saw this family with several young children, aged between 4 and 12. They were playing. Remember those days? When play was simple, games were simple and had clear rules (e.g. tag - if I tag you, you're "it"). The game they were playing was running in circles around a pole and when they saw each other, they would giggle. Looked like fun to me.

Now, as we are grownups, everything is complicated. Even games are complicated (we don't play run around the pole anymore, we have to play "pilates punishment" or Texas hold-em). Life is complicated. Dating is probably the most complicated. Recently I've been trying to date more. Too bad I'm bad at this game. Everything you're supposed to do is contrary to your instinct.

If you're interested, you're not supposed to show too much interest. You have to wait before you call or email. You have to be non-chalant. If you're not interested, you can't just say so, you have to play a game of either never calling, or something else. What you do on your dates has symbolic meaning; it's not just spending time together. You can "try too hard" (ever imagine "trying too hard" in a sport or in school?).

Anyway, I'm trying to learn the game, but it's just one of the many games we must play as adults... and frankly, I get a little tired of games sometimes. Since I just started a new job, I'm playing that game too. Figuring out who you can talk to, who you can trust, who you can't, how things work, etc. And playing the schmoozing game, because you have to be sociable, or appear to be.

Oh, last thing. Looks among voters, at least, we are evenly split on the issue of big butt vs. no butt. Remember, your vote is your power!

Stylish workout pants for guys

Went to the gym today. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt (this will be important information later). All the girls are wearing long pants, some sort of spandex workout pants with bell bottoms. Did cardio tai box (really fun, I might add - next I want to try a yoga class or the "funk" class, where you learn a choreographed dance).

Everything was going well, we were bouncing, punching, kicking...

Then halfway through, we stopped doing the regular cardio tai box stuff, and started to do calisthenics and stretches. Ok, I can handle this. Ab stuff. Ok, crunches, regular stuff. Suddenly - we are told to face the front (which is one huge mirror) and we're supposed to take our legs and criss-cross them back and forth.

At that moment, staring at my undies peeking out of my shorts, I realized why girls wear long, spandex pants when they workout.

Previously, I thought, 'Why would girls wear all that? Doesn't it get hot?' But now, I know. And my only question is, where are such pants for men? I know spandex is available for all who can squeeze into it - but something similar designed for mens' bodies and is socially acceptable. Sigh.

What's better? Back or lack?

Paul brings up an interesting point in his comment on a previous post. Having a butt should not be a curse.

However, that begs the dichotomous question:

What's worse?

a) A butt so large that it is unwieldy and is the first and only thing people see about you

or

b) No butt whatsoever, so that when you sit, you risk breaking your pelvis

Vote your opinion on the poll to the left!

Shopping conclusions & surreal sightings

I've decided that the only way that I can shop is to get it over with. Do it all at once. I went to the mall for the first time in a while to update my wardrobe (most of which dates from pre-millennium), partly in recognition of my new job. I can't be bothered to look for sales. I mean, of course I look at the sale rack, but for the most part, there's a reason why stuff is on sale (e.g. it's all XXXL or colors nobody wanted).

I can't do the go shopping all the time and maybe not buy anything, or buy one thing every month. It just feels like such a waste of time to spend all those hours "shopping" and not come away with anything. Terribly inefficient. So I do it all in one fell swoop. The next two years worth of shopping in three hours. Done.

Anyway, on my way back I saw several strange things. First, I saw an "Omega" restaurant. My NU/Chicago brethren may recognize the name. Coincidence?

I also saw a "Le Peep" on the way back. I didn't realize that "Le Peep" was a chain - but nevertheless, it was strange.

Last strange sighting: the Arm & Hammer logo on the side of a water tower. What significance does baking soda have in connection with a water tower?

Oh yes, two more things. New Jersey's governor resigned today, and revealed that he is gay and has had homosexual extramarital affairs.

And people in Tampa, FL are told to "flee" by officials.

How much more surreal does it get?

Making the plunge

Today I accompanied my parents to the car dealership since my sister's trading in her old car for a new one. I can say without equivocation that I hate big ticket purchases like cars, stereo systems, houses, etc. because of how slimy it can get.

Everybody tries to cheat you and you try your best not to be cheated... but in the end, it feels really slimy. It's all a game, and I hate games like this. Buying computers can be similar. I wish everything worked like Saturn, or the grocery store, where prices are basically what they are.

The Curse of Having "Back" & Play-by-Play Haircutting

Since I am certain that most readers of my blog are Asian (by virtue of association and the tendency for minorities to self-segregate, but that's a topic for another post), most of you have no idea what it's like to have "back". What I mean is what is described in Sir Mix-a-Lot's emotional etude "Baby Got Back". Due to a freak gene, the males in my branch of the family have really, really, large butts.

"What's wrong with that?" you say. "You can sit for long periods of time comfortably." "It attracts many species of primate." What's wrong is this: a big butt makes it very difficult to purchase pants. Sometimes the waist and butt area will be just fine, but then the legs look all wrong (even when it says "boot cut"). Other times, the legs will be just great but the crotch is too stiff.

About 10 years ago, Aeropostale had these perfect khaki pants. They fit perfectly. They accentuated (not hugged) my large derriere and then gracefully fell straight to my feet, giving the illusion of having nicely toned legs and large calves. This was before the rage of boot cut/relaxed fit/straight leg blah blah. It was flat front and had basic lines. No extra pockets, random loops or pouches. It just fit well. I've been looking for pants like that ever since, and now it's getting more urgent since these pants are literally disintegrating. I've patched them up as well as I can - but I don't know how much longer they can last. Such is the curse of the big butt.

On an aside, I hate shopping. I don't hate shopping because I hate getting new things (because I love getting new things), and I don't hate shopping because I hate spending money (although I certainly do). I hate shopping because it takes forever to find what works (think pants example above). I don't enjoy trying on 20 different pants just to find out none of them fit right, or the one that I like they don't have in my size. I also tend to do this by myself because it does take so long, and I'm certain nobody wants to go with me. That makes it extra boring (so much so, that I'm getting to point of finding a shopping buddy).

Anyway, today I went to get my hair cut and for the first time, the lady cutting my hair gave me a play-by-play. She looked a little like the mother on "Family Ties" and seemed like a sweet (but hip) grandmother. She literally told me what she was doing as she did it. "Ok, I'm just going to use a #4 to blend the top and the sides... ok, let's take a look, oh - that hair needs to go, let's get the scissors, I'm just going to take a bit off..."

It was actually quite entertaining. I think most things should be play-by-play. Imagine "play-by-play channel surfing" or "play-by-play lawn mowing". Do we have a new reality series here? I think so.

Interlude

It's always been fascinating to me that we are each living out our respective lives, but all around us there are billions of other people living out theirs, and for the most part, we are unaware of what happens to them.

I think it's equally fascinating that a single, intense experience can so radically alter one's perception of life, or alter the path that one's life may take. Then, it's mind boggling to think of what would have happened if that experience did not occur.

An example: Just this past weekend, the institute staff went out to celebrate the close of institute - corps members were off and our work was (for the most part) done. It's a last night, of sorts.

I don't know about you, but when I walk around, I subconsciously (and sometimes consciously) make mental notes of people I meet or see. One of those notes is whether I find them attractive in appearance or personality and whether I would be interested in hanging out with them. Most of the time, I just go on about my life and I don't act on any of these mental notes. (on an aside, what makes someone memorable? sometimes something strikes you about their appearance, or something they said, or the context in which you met them, or it's a person you see every day but don't know their name -but it's equally likely all these things happen and they are forgotten)

We ended up at a club called the Lansky Lounge - apparently named after a mobster but run by South Asians. I was having a good time talking, hanging out, and dancing, but there wasn't anyone there in particular that I was attracted to. However, later on in the evening (about 1-2 hours after I'd arrived), another staff member that had not been there previously arrived.

She was one of those people that just stand out - and one of those people I made a mental note about earlier, "She's kind of cute." but then you don't really act upon that note. In fact, I had very little in terms of meaningful interaction with her until this night.

I actually saw her on my way to get some water or another drink (I don't remember), and in a split second, I decided that it would be fun to dance with her. And since she kind of has a silly personality, I danced myself silly. Needless to say, I felt like there was some unspoken connection - we ended up dancing together for most of the evening and then went home in a group together via taxi, and walked arm in arm back to campus.

Four days later, I still think about her. It's strange that I "miss" her, considering that if I had not decided to dance with her that evening, things would have been completely different. Not to mention what would have happened if she didn't decide to come to the club that evening. We would never have danced, I never would have felt a connection, and she would have disappeared and I probably would have never thought about her again.

It kind of makes you think about all the lost opportunities (in all areas of life) that may pass you by each day without even realizing it.