There was a point today when I went "Oh f*%$!" and had some other particularly painful parts of my life flash before my eyes. People keep telling me that it wasn't my fault, but I can't help feeling that it is.
How do you staunch a mental/intellectual/emotional wound anyway?
I totally do not get why people feel it is okay to unload their problems on me. After five minutes of ranting, my eyes start glazing over. And it's not because I don't sympathize. I do. It's just that my philosophy is to not tell other people my problems. Or at least not tell other people too much of my problems. There's only so much attention span to go around before exasperation sets in.
What really annoys me is that all these problems I'm hearing about are just results of a bigger problem that people fail to see. Tunnel vision. If they'd just realize that focusing on one path is effectively boxing them off into a corner, they'd be so much happier with all the other opportunities sitting just along their periphery.
(Yes, I know the vagueness of my blathering could refer to anything: from boyfriends and career paths to finding a route or picking a brand of orange juice at the supermarket. But it's deliberately so.)
As for my car: It broke down, in the snow, approximately one hour after I was subjected to the ranting. To put it lightly, I am even more annoyed.
Dang it, this always happens. Whenever I say I'm too busy to post, I post anyway. But it's Friday and I'm carving out a little chunk of time to not think about work. All work and no play are for robots.
Good designs, bad designs. (via Dustbury) My blog templates are so easy that an idiot could do the same thing. Of course, I don't have all the frilly stuff floating around on this page either so who knows how messed up the code would get if I got it into my head to cram in all the latest weblog widgets.
On the Use of Elevators in Research Buildings. I go by the rule "one flight up, two flights down" for using the stairs. But since I work on the third story--I use the stairs anyway. An extra flight isn't going to kill me. The only time I use the elevator is for carting around stuff. Or if I'm carrying around glass vials with blood. I do not want to trip on the stairs and then have to call hazmat.
A Challenge to Science Bloggers. (via Evolgen) Put up science only posts for an entire week? Sign me up! Yes, this sounds sort of crazy, especially if I end up gibbering after talking about peer-reviewed science papers for a straight seven days, but it can't be worse than writing a novel in a month.
Onesome: Plaid-- Yes? No? Wouldn't even consider it? Makes the outfit? Makes terrible wallpaper?
I'm not a plaid person although I might wear it under certain circumstances--such as being coerced into a kilt convention (and maybe not even then).
And yes, plaid does make terrible wallpaper.
Twosome: Kittens-- Cutest things in the world? Creatures from another planet? Things other people have?
They're okay. But like a lot of things, there is such thing as too much.
Threesome: Attack!-- of the Killer Tomatoes! Okay, what's your vote for the worst movie title of all time?
I couldn't think up of any off the top of my head, so I looked up this page. Some of them aren't that bad--I think being funny and cheesy mitigates some of the badness. And some of them, you just go ewwwwww.
The short explanation: I'm going to be really, really busy the next two weeks so do not expect any blogging from me until the first weekend of February.
The longer explanation: Most other people (read: grad students) would consider me insane for scheduling everything at the end of January. I have three different presentations to do (one for a class, another for a journal club, and yet another about my research for my advisors--yikes!). On top of that, I'm teaching a lab class. So yeah, I will be scarce around these electronic parts.
Onesome: No California-- drivers allowed! Do you drive and talk on the cell phone? Come on, fess up...
No. I almost never turn my cell phone on. And almost nobody has my number. There's no reason anyone should be calling me and there's nobody I want to call, least of all while driving.
Twosome: Oranges-- and Apples and Pears, oh my! Do you have a favorite fruit?
Not really.
Threesome: this Year-- I'm going to _______ (go ahead; fill in the blank. No, it's not a resolution!)
Um, I'm not exactly planning to do something specific this year.
Tangled Bank #71. Go read some science-y goodness over at The Voltage Gate. There's everything from the genetics of immunity to pollinating bees.
Here's a carnival I haven't heard before: Four Stone Hearth. See the latest edition. It's about about anthropology and archaeology--two subjects I know very little about. There's bound to be some interesting articles.
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As an aside: I think I'm getting addicted to podcasts. Must. Tear. Myself. Away. From. Them. Now.
Hey science geeks (or anyone who's interested in science!), this is your chance to get some cool science blogging in book form. The Science Blogging Anthology is now on sale!
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Latest pet peeve: people wearing black coats. Yes, I know it's oh so fashionable, but it's not practical! Do you know how hard it is to see during the night? If you're wearing a black coat, you're blending into the background. And it's worse in the winter months because the roads are icy and cars need more time to stop...
The Mislaid Magician by Patricia C. Wrede and Caroline Stevermer. Ten years after Sorcery and Cecelia and The Grand Tour, the cousins Kate and Cecelia are thrown out of their complacent family lives when Cecelia and her husband James are summoned by Lord Wellington to investigate the disappearance of a magician who was surveying northern England for a railroad. While investigating this mystery, they meet up with a strange brother-sister duo, enchanted dogs, and some very dangerous standing stones. Kate and her husband Thomas stay at home attempting to manage both couples' children who have started making spells of their own. All of this is complicated by a night prowler wielding powerful magic and the appearance of a mute girl. As Cecelia, James, Kate, and Thomas dig deeper into these mysteries, it becomes clear that whatever is behind them threatens the stability of the country itself.
It's not necessary to read the first two books to appreciate this one although I would certainly recommend so. I enjoyed reading this light fantasy mystery (if you wanted to split hairs, I suppose you could call it mannerpunk with hints of steampunk) even though figuring out who the villains were was fairly obvious.
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I've read most of the stories in the anthology Best New Paranormal Romance edited by Paula Guran when I decided to see what other people were saying about it. For one thing, even after reading the list of contributing authors, I was pretty sure this should have been shelved in the SF/F section and not the romance section where I actually found it. Personally, I don't really care where books are shelved or what they're labeled as--I'm one of those people who comb through every section to find a book because I don't trust the college kiddies who work in the bookstores, the beleaguered librarians forced to stick genre labels on book spines, the marketing departments of publishers, and even in some cases other book reviewers.
I was not surprised to see the rabid backlash by romance fanatics (see the comments here and here; also some more comments about genre, although not exactly related, here) to the use of the term "paranormal romance" to refer to a subgenre of SF/F (like "planetary romance" in which the word "romance" refers to "adventure") when it's already been used as a term for a subgenre of romance (in which a happily ever after is required and the speculative elements are incidental). Yeah, yeah, it's about a bunch of people fighting over semantics. It does seem sort of silly--we should be reading a book for the writing and the story and not for some random tropes that for historical reasons have been codified into genres.
I like stories that push boundaries regardless of what other people call them. But most people don't--and for those people, labels do serve a purpose. If they pick up something labeled with a particular genre, they're going to be disappointed--or even downright livid--if the elements stereotypical of that genre are relegated to the background. So on a marketing standpoint, I would be very cautious about using a term that already has a lot of baggage associated with it. Trying to redefine a term will get people mad (similar language purists ranting about the use of slang), so we might as well just invent a new term.
I read the comments to this article and all I can say is: I'm not a freakin' study drone! I'd rather be called a lab rat than a study drone. For one thing, I enjoy research a whole lot more than drowning in a morass of facts-to-be-memorized.
Although I have to wonder if these differences in test scores are due more to cultural differences rather than cognitive differences. My parents were relatively laid back and pretty much let me do anything I wanted. But even back in elementary school, other Asian kids seemed driven to do well academically or musically. I wouldn't really say that they were doing this under their own impetus. It was more like meeting their parents' expectations--parents who always had this "keeping up with the Joneses" or rather "being better than the Changs" mentality. I dreaded (I still do) meeting any of my peers' parents. Or even some of my ultra-competitive relatives. They always made me feel dumb because I wasn't as accomplished as little Harry or Jennifer.
However, I don't know if I would call my fellow Asians study drones either. Maybe a more accurate description would be "neurotic." I mean, you would have to be a little neurotic after facing pressure to perform all your life.
Onesome: Strange-- twists and turns on the web? Do you recall how you ended up here at the Back Porch? ...just curious.
I probably found this on someone else's blog. I was surfing for another meme to do because a similar meme I had been doing had died out.
Twosome: Little-- by little we branch out and bloom. How often do you post per week? Is that more or less than six months ago?
I aim for posting once a day, but all I can guarantee right now is posting a couple times a week.
Threesome: Bud-- break time is coming later this year. ...but are the bulbs in your area pushing up through the soil yet?
It just snowed a couple inches yesterday so if any bulbs are pushing up, it's way too early. Ask again in May. Although I did see some young women wearing skin tight clothing (and no coats) strutting around outside when it was below freezing. And no, I don't get it either.
Coturnix over at A Blog Around The Clock now has the list of the 50 best science blog posts up which he is going to collect into an anthology he is editing. Go, read those gems. Unless you've been physically wired to your computer, I guarantee there are some articles you haven't read before.
I never submitted any of my posts to be considered for the anthology because, um, I almost never checked my e-mail (or my blogroll) over the holiday. Besides, my posts are only good for bad Google-foo.
You'd think that since I'm such a book glommer, I must be just as obsessed with newspapers. Not so. No matter how many times people call me trying to get me to subscribe to the local papers (and yes, I mean you, the interrupter of dinners!), there's no way I'm forking over my cash for the stuff. There's such a gulf between the two types of print media. Unlike books, newspapers are unwieldy and the ink smears. I can find the articles online. And it's just a waste of trees for something with such limited re-readability--although one could say the same for toilet paper. I suppose one advantage the paper has over the computer is that it's lighter to carry around. But I'm not a news junkie so I know I'm not missing much.
The Face in the Mirror by Julian Paul Keenan with Gordon G. Gallup Jr. and Dean Falk. What is self-recognition? When you observe yourself in a mirror, how do you know it's you and not some other person? Keenan and his colleagues explore these questions of cognitive science by reviewing the literature in the field. From Darwin's rudimentary mirror experiments to the modern magnetic resonance imaging techniques, scientists have tried to tease out the mechanisms of self-recognition, self-directed emotion, and its evolutionary significance. I found this to be fascinating reading--especially the experiments on primates to test for self-awareness and on brain-damaged patients who could not even recognize their own bodies and reflections. And who knew one of the hallmarks of self-recognition was that of deception?
Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino. The Venetian traveler, Marco Polo, finds himself at the court of Kublai Khan recounting the cities he had visited to the aging emperor. I would recommend this short novel just for Calvino's scintillating and fantastic imagery. But there's even more to think about than the writing style--at times, it's downright philosophical. Is Marco Polo recounting different facets of one city? Is he using his city descriptions as metaphors for more serious matters? Are Polo's tales part of some mind game he is playing with Khan? Or is this simply the matter of two men tripping on weed and having a bunch of hallucinations?
For the past half-year, I haven't looked at much of the current interactive fiction out there, but it was only a couple days ago that I looked at the results of IF Comp 2006. I glanced a bit at Floatpoint (since I like a lot of Emily Short's work), but I decided to start playing Delightful Wallpaper instead because I read a review saying that it's Gorey-esque. And there's few things that can beat Edward Gorey.
Onesome: College-- playoffs? Yes or no? ...or 'who cares?' Is the current BCS system something you think works or would prefer things a bit more 'tidy'?
I'm in the "who cares?" camp. I also have no idea what a BCS system is.
Twosome: Bowl-- of cherries? Chips? Tofu? What's on your snack list during a game. ...or a favorite show?
I have eaten cherries, chips and tofu while watching television before. Just not at the same time.
Threesome: Games-- within games: if you're a sports fan is there any sort of 'inner game' you like to watch during the contest? I'm thinking in terms of line work in football or post play in basket ball. ...and if you're not into sports, how about something similar in your favorite pastime?
I suppose there's also games in books. But it's getting sort of old with only chess or poker included in the plots. Where's checkers and Go Fish?
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I don't think it should take almost 24 hours to fly from one part of the United States to another, but it does. Even without weather being a problem, layovers, detouring connecting flights (dang it, I never asked to go to Portland, Oregon!) and inconvenient bus schedules pretty much eat up the time.
Yes, I'm a cranky traveler. I will never be like that young woman I saw who seemed overawed at everything because it was the first time she's been in an airport or an airplane. I'm not metropolitan chic, but I haven't been sequestered in the countryside for the past decade either. And speaking of sequestered--what's up with all the people who never read travel advisories? At the checkpoint, the young woman in front of me got her huge can of hairspray confiscated. A middle-aged man who should know better was complaining about security taking away his toothpaste. And somebody trying to hold his place in line (yes, I was going on Southwest--no assigned seating!) with his carry-on lost it to the roaming patrols on the look-out for lone pieces of luggage.
Some other observations: On one of my flights, I sat in front of a man who complained about the de-icing procedures. He viewed himself as an expert because his father had been a commercial pilot (before he was forcibly retired after a flight to London). A young boy sitting in front of me was yelling, "We're going to die! We're going to die!" while the plane was landing. His grandmother never told him to shut up. The middle-age couple I sat next to were making fun of people who did not speak English as a first language. I should have told them to shut up.
And you're sure to find a laptop junkie at every available electrical outlet in the airport terminal.
2006 was a rather unremarkable year in terms of my own book reading. Which, of course, calls for a major overhaul on my reading habits. If I were to make a new year's resolution (which I'm not), it would probably be to read more award winning books. You know, just to say that I have. As for any books that stood out among the rest of the pap:
Aside from the books on the "currently reading list" on my bookrolling page, I'm in the middle of Gossamyr by Michele Hauf which I'm finding to be very hard going because of the molasses-like plot (I started the book sometime last summer). It doesn't help that I didn't like the first book in the series very much either. I just started Julian Keenan's The Face in the Mirror and I'm very eager to read Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities (I loved the excerpt I read a few years ago and it's taken me forever just to get my hands on a copy).
The following are the final books I read last year:
Longitude by Dava Sobel - This may seem incongruous, but I'd call this "short and sweet." I finished this tale of an eighteenth century Yorkshire clockmaker's quest to solve the "longitude problem" in one sitting. I really liked reading about John Harrison's struggle with getting his mechanical solution accepted by the establishment which viewed astronomy and mathematics as the ultimate answer to the problem. However, I couldn't help feeling that Longitude was merely a skeleton for a lengthier, more in depth, and richer work. I would have appreciated more background on how navigators prior to the eighteenth century (particularly in the Ancient World) got their bearings, clockmaking, and Harrison's instruments in particular.
Thunderbird Falls by C.E. Murphy - This is the sequel to Urban Shaman (which I had quite enjoyed) and the novella "Banshee Cries." In this second offering, Joanne Walker--mechanic, reluctant cop, and a shaman of both Native American and Celtic heritage--is once again in hot water. Her spirit guide has disappeared, dead bodies are piling up, and demons are taking over Seattle. The plotting is breakneck. Joanne is not the invincible "kick ass" heroine present in today's glut of urban fantasy and horror, instead she has to be dragged kicking and screaming to the showdowns with the bad guys. However, despite the entertaining action adventure, I'd have to say that Thunderbird Falls suffers the same fate as a lot of sequels and second books in series--the writing lags behind the plotting. There are sections of the novel that could have been seriously pruned or tightened up.
Now that I'm unwittingly in possession of an iPod*, I'd have to say that I'm not impressed. It's a lot like other portable mp3 players out there and in some ways, it's not exactly user friendly either.
I think the popularity of the iPod is due more to branding than anyone embracing "geeky hipness" (if such a thing was possible). iPods and Wiis are to the eternally wired as Prada and Jimmy Choos are to fashionistas. Symbols of "coolness" and conspicuous consumption. One could ask, will my quality of life be improved any by this gadget? And I'd answer, "No."
A few sheets of blank paper are far more useful.
*Actually, it's the rather miniscule iPod shuffle. Someone might as well implant a suspicious looking black box in my ear canal.
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