Thoughts of a Young, Impressionable Mind

Guilty. GUILTY!

2006-10-24T23:25:00.000-07:00

I recently came to the conclusion that I do not like people. I tolerate pretty much everyone, and I only despise a few people. But I actually only like a few people. I think this stems from view of people in general. They say that people are innocent until proven guilty, but in my world, you are guilty until proven innocent. I don't really talk to people very much until I decide that I like them. Maybe this is shyness, and maybe this is grinch-ness (Yes - like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas). I'm not quite sure there's a word for it. Maybe a mixture of shy and grinch. Shinch.

This idea came upon me just the other day. I was sitting at a table, enjoying a nice little lunch by myself (because there didn't happen to be anyone that I liked in our dining establishment at the time), when the table next to me decided to become ultra-loud and obnoxious. If you want to learn how to NOT be liked by me, that is your best bet. Everyone try to talk above the person next to you. Get your words in, even though really no one is listening because all they really want is to be heard. They could care less what you actually have to say. Laugh extra loud at the joke that your buddy right next to you just yelled across the table so everyone knows that you got it and thought it was soooo funny. Get some freaking tact people. Unbelievable. Do you happen to be the only people in here at the time? Oh no? There are hundreds of other people around you? Then shut up and let me enjoy the 10 minutes that I get by myself a day.

Easily Entertained

2006-09-27T00:12:00.000-07:00

If at any point in time you are in desperate need of entertainment, let me suggest something to you. Mind you, do this in only desperate times of boredom. Find a website that has all sorts of lyrics to various genres of music, and read some lyrics to any rap song. However, don't just read them, read them aloud. But make sure no one else is around. Then try to translate them into the parlence of our times. Well, I guess translate them out of the parlence of our times, and translate them into the parlence of a time when it was normal to talk like a human being. Let me give you an example I stumbled across recently, along with translation.

LYRICS:

And my jam knock in the Mitsubishi
Girls pee pee when they see me, Nava-hoes creep me in they tee pee
As I lay down laws like I lay carpet
Stop it - if you think you're gonna make a profit

TRANSLATION:

I enjoy playing music loudly on my car stereo. Apparently, women enjoy this also because they become sexually aroused when they see me driving. Oddly enough, when I visit the Native American reservations, some of the more sexually promiscuous Indian women attempt to seduce me in their homes. Their intent is to divest me of my earnings. Such actions are unacceptable.

LYRICS:

Don't see my ones, don't see my guns - get it
Now tell ya friends Poppa hit it then split it
In two as I flow with the Junior Mafia
I don't know what the hell's stoppin' ya
I'm clockin' ya - Versace shades watchin' ya
Once ya grin, I'm in game, begin

TRANSLATION:

Understand this fact: you can have neither my money, nor my weapons. I suggest that you inform your peers that we engaged in violent sexual acts. Currently, I am rapping with my associates, the Junior Mafia. I'm having some difficulty understanding why you refuse to approach me. I am attempting to make eye contact with you through my expensive glasses, and as soon as you respond with a smile, I will approach you.

LYRICS:

You - ringin' bells with bags from Chanel
Baby Benz, traded in your Hyundai Excel
Fully equipped, CD changer with the cell
She beeped me, meet me at twelve

TRANSLATION:

Despite the fact that you attempted to win her at her doorstep with bags full of expensive clothes and a car (the lower end model Mercedes Benz which you financed by signing over your current vehicle) containing an expensive stereo and a cellular phone, your woman has contacted me through my pager indicating that we should rendezvous at midnight.

LYRICS:

Where you at? Flippin' jobs, playin' car notes?
While I'm swimmin' in ya women like the breast stroke
Right stroke, left stroke what's the best stroke
Death stroke - tongue all down her throat
Nuthin' left to do but send her home to you
I'm through - can ya sing the song for me, boo?

TRANSLATION:

You, on the other hand, jump from job to job, barely able to maintain payments on the Mercedes Benz you purchased for your woman. Meanwhile, I continue to engage in sexual intercourse and commit lewd osculatory acts with your woman. My only remaining option is to request that she leave my home and return to you because I have reached orgasm and no longer have a need for her presence.

LYRICS:

High fashion - flyin' into all states
Sexin' me while your man masturbates.
Isn't this great? Your flight leaves at eight.
Her flight lands at nine, my game just rewinds.
Lyrically I'm supposed to represent.
I"m not only the client, I'm the player president

TRANSLATION:

You will be dressed in finest clothes on the runways of Paris. I will fly you to every state to shop for fine clothes and jewelry. You will enjoy sexual intercourse with me and your man will be forced to pleasure himself through manual stimulation. What a life! I'll return you to the airport in time to catch your 8 o'clock flight. The timing is perfect because I have scheduled a date with a second woman who arrives at the same gate at 9 o'clock. I'll seduce her in the same way I seduced you. I rap well and I am a positive reflection of my home town. Not only am I a sexually deviant, misogynistic, immoral, wealthy male prostitute, but I also sit on the board of directors of the organization that governs others of my kind.

Go ahead and try it. It's more fun than you might think.

Sanders

2006-09-18T21:21:00.000-07:00

There aren't many things in this life that actually make me sad. Can I get angry? Absolutely. Annoyed? Often. But do I actually become sad and upset? Those instances are few and far betweeen.

I tell you that to tell you this. My dog is on her last leg. I freaking love my dog. I can't picture being at home and her not being there. As sad and cheesy as it may sound, she's been literally one of my best friends since we've had her. Normally (see my previous post entitled "Highway Time") I can just put negative things such as this out of my mind. But not this time. Not Sandy. She's been too much a part of my life. I really hope I can make it home to see her one more time. Just hang on for a few more months, Sandy. Let me at least say goodbye.

A Joyful Heart REALLY IS the Best Medicine

2006-09-15T16:54:00.000-07:00

Listen up, stressed out and angry people. Heed my advice.

When blood pressure is increased, baroreceptors (which detect the level of pressure in the blood vessels) are stimulated in the aortic arch, aortic sinuses, and carotid sinuses. These baroreceptors send impulses through a series of nerves which stimulate the Nucleus of the Tractus Solitarius. This results in two things (conveniently labeled "a"and "b".

A) The vasopressor center in the medulla oblongata is repressed, which decreases sympathetic nerve impulses to the heart. This decreases the heart rate and the heart contractile force, and also causes the blood vessels to vasodilate, which helps lower the blood pressure.

B) The vagal nuclei of the vasodepressor center of the medulla oblongata is stimulated, which increases parasympathetic nerve impulses to the heart (which, as we all know, is an inhibitor). This decreases the heart rate, decreases total cardiac output, and lowers the blood pressure back to normal.

HOWEVER, when blood pressure is consistently higher than it should be, which happens in the case of someone being stressed out or angry, these processes do not work to their full capability. They become "tired" or "worn out", and blood pressure remains high. The heart keeps beating faster than it should, and cardiac output is more than it should be. When the heart is overworked, heart failure can, and usually does, occur.

That being said, I am going to live a longer life than all of you, unless you decide to change your stressful and angry ways. Unless I die in some sort of a freak accident, which is entirely possible - perhaps even probable.

The Measure of a Man

2006-09-13T21:44:00.000-07:00

I had an epiphany today while undergoing a rigorous baseball conditioning routine (Is there such a thing? I think not. At least not here). Man should not be judged on his actions, his morals, his good (or bad) looks, or any other trivial thing. The measure of a man in our culture should be how fast he can run. Think about it. We would win the Olympics pretty much every year. We would be superior in sports, thereby making more people watch it, thereby increasing profits and thereby stimulating our economy. It would solve the problem of obesity in America. We could substitute wars with 100 yard dashes, and therefore establish world peace, to some extent. People would run more often, and use cars less. This would eliminate the pollution problem and reduce the harmful greenhouse effect. Global warming would be slowed, and the icebergs would stay un-melted. Since the icebergs would still be intact, the Arctic climate would remain as is, and would be able to support the wildlife that lives there. Penguins are part of the arctic wildlife, and I really like penguins, and know countless others whose feelings are mutual. This would contribute to the well-being and general morale of society, allowing a better world for us to live in.

If you're not convinced, I don't know what else will sway you.

Reasons to Never Ask for Directions

2006-09-08T18:00:00.000-07:00

Why is it that it's so appealing to me to give people the wrong directions when they ask for them? I'll probably never see them again, nor will I ever see them get completely lost. Well, maybe not completely lost. I'll get them in somewhat of the right direction, but far enough away to where they become lost. Perhaps it's just the thought of the look on their face when they realize when they have no idea where they are, wonder if they were ever going the right way, and realize they've been lied to by a complete stranger. I like to sit and think about the confusion that that person is going through, and then I realize I'm a terrible person. You should really try it sometime.

It's Highway Time

2006-09-04T20:48:00.000-07:00

As you may well know, I logged a significant amount of hours on the road this summer. When driving, one has ample time to ponder the deeper things of life. I think about things such as those little side strips that wake you up when you start to swerve off the road (how do they make those things? Is there a crew out there chipping little lines every few inches?), sneak in glances of the people that I'm passing and critique their driving (is it a result of their nationality?), how fast I need to drive in order to get to my intended destination at a certain time (if I average 70 miles per hour for the next 90 miles, how long will it take me to get there?),and the possibility of making a video game of highway driving, and the difficulty of marketing such a game (see how many cars you can pass? arrive at your destination on time? see how long you can drive before falling asleep?) because, let's face it ladies and gentlemen, these are the issues.

During one of these intense introspective sessions, I wondered why some people worry so much and are eternal pessimists (with nobody specific in mind, just general people). I then wondered why I am usually not one of these people. It seems very easy to have a negative outlook on a lot of things, and probably less disappointing. If you expect the worst, and something slightly better happens, are you not happy with the result? Nevertheless, I decided that in the scheme of life, I am quite the optimist. I don't dwell on negative things; in fact, I rarely even think about them. I completely put them out of my head, much like it never even happened. Perhaps this isn't even optimism at all. Maybe it's something more like selective nihilism. But that's neither here nor there. I then thought to myself, is this healthy? Almost completely suppressing any negative thoughts or ideas? Will this catch up to me in the long run? Do I have some sort of psychological issues? Then I promptly put those thoughts out of my mind, and haven't thought about them again until now.

Back to School

2006-09-03T10:51:00.000-07:00

As a celebration of all things new (such as this school year, or my apartment), I have decided to share my thoughts with the world. Or with the 2 or 3 people that might stumble across this site.

It's that time again. Time to read assigned, uninteresting books, and put my insightful, interesting books aside. Time to pay attention to every minute detail as I read. As I'm going through my physiology books, and get to the part about acid-base reactions with conjugate bases and non-aqueous solvents, I don't quite get it. So I read it over about 8 times, hoping that eventually it will all sink in. This is similar to the problem that American tourists face when trying to communicate with a non-English speaking restaurant employee. Hamburger! Ham-burger! Ham-bur-ger! If you say over and over, forcefully, eventually it will take, right? But I digress.

I find that once I hit the grind again, my brain is out of shape. I have to memorize 18 different equations of velocity as related to time and distance, each factor that contributes to thrombocyte production, all the reasons that a person could become anemic, and so on. My brain is not accustomed to this kind of thinking yet. I feel like I'm making it run a triathlon in ninety-degree heat when it's used to sitting in a hammock drinking mojitos. As I vacuum up all this information, I have to take frequent breaks to walk around aimlessly. Walk it off, as they say. You only sprained that brain, son. Walk it off.

But much like a jogger is confident that he will be in shape when he needs to be, I am confident that I will have my brain in tip-top physical condition once midterms roll around. I'll continue to jog my mind (sorry.... I had to) until finals. Then I'll throw off the shackles of schoolwork for 6 weeks and start the whole process again. It's a vicious cycle.