Cerebrate Good Times

Did you ever date someone that you tried really hard to like, but in the end you just couldn’t do it? (Or were you ever on the receiving end?) It’s noble, in a way, to try to give this affection because you feel things would work out perfectly if that were the case. Well, I finally decided that I have that kind of relationship… with bananas. Bananas are healthy, easy to eat, cheap, inexpensive, and affordable. But in the end I just don’t really like them. It’s pretty rare that I’m eating a banana and not looking forward to the end of it. I still like bananas in things, but eating the fruit plain is just delaying the inevitable. I’m sorry, bananas. It’s not you, it’s me.

In school I think I was told snowflakes have to form around some small particle, such as a speck of dirt. I don’t know if that’s really the case (the Wikipedia page on snow didn’t mention it, and I’m too lazy to research it further). Whether dirt is inherent in the formation of snowflakes or it just picks up gunk from the atmosphere on the way down (probably both), nothing illustrates how much dirt is in snow like watching the big piles in the parking lot melt. Seriously, it’s disgusting. They’re basically big piles of black grime, with little bits of white showing through now and then (I’ll spare you by not posting a picture). As a kid I ate my fair share of snow, and now it’s gross to think that I was basically drinking dirty water.

I was thinking about how some people are open with their emotions while others keep them inside, and I’m trying to figure out what’s better. Sometimes I wish I could put a little sign on my head that says, “Leave me alone! I’m in a terrible mood!” In cases like that, advertising your feelings could be good. Of course, if you don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings by telling them how hideous you think they look, it’s probably not a good time for complete emotional honest. Men take a lot of flak for being poor communicators, but the fact is more communication sometimes just leads to trouble, especially in romantic relationships. It’s important not to nit-pick. It helps us become tolerant, and it prevents a lot of fights. So what do you think: total honesty or discretion? Utilize your personal strategy in formulating your answer.

Okay, I'm going to make you work for today's pun, although it's not at all difficult. Well? Did you get it?

I never got a chance to be 20 years old. When I went to Korea, I was 19, and they count you as one year old when you're born, and because of the specifics of the calendar, I was 21 when I got there. Then I was 23 when I left, and when I came home I was 21. I will forever miss being on the cusp of adulthood like that, no longer a teenager but not so old I have to really act like an adult. *Sigh* Missed opportunities...

So I bought new dress shoes the other day. I didn't realize it at the time, but they're loud shoes. So when I walk on concrete or tile, it sounds like I'm wearing heels. Oh well.

On Saturday I discovered that I still can be a kid. For a while I had been worrying that I was irreversibly grown up, but now I know that's not the case. Specifically, I went to a Pinewood Derby for, well, technically adults, but I'm sure we all felt like kids again. It was fun, and I was surprised that there weren't any fights or name-calling. I guess these guys save the real animosity for helping their kids compete...

Last night I bought some shoes. I usually wear a 10 or 10 ½ (I have one pair of size 11s), but I ended up getting 9 1/2s. I know that when it comes to women’s clothing there is a wild variety in sizing. In one brand you can be a 6, and in another you would be a 14. There’s certainly a belief that women’s self-esteem can be influenced by their perceived size, which could lead them to desire to buy certain brands of clothing because they can fit into a smaller size. (Was the phrasing there PC enough?) It’s a little strange, though, that this could extend to men’s shoes. I don’t know any men who are embarrassed by the size of their feet. I mean, men are more likely to buy bigger sizes to feel more manly (I used to buy shirts that were way too big for my skeletal frame, which just made me look even more scrawny), with the possible exception of pants. In that case, men buy the smallest size they can fit into and just let their belly hang over their belt. So I guess we’re all a little bit...

I wear a watch on my right arm, which makes sense to me, since I’m left-handed. The strange thing is that most left-handers still wear a watch on their left arm. I guess that sort of makes me double-weird. Anyway, the metal band of the watch sometimes snags on my arm hairs, so if I take off the watch I can see that the little hairs where the watch sits are shorter than the rest of the hairs on my arm.

Okay, so when I come up with a groan-inducing pun like that movie poster, I reflect on the fact that I appear to share my dad’s sense of humor. In fact, there are a number of ways in which I find myself becoming more like him (although so far, the hair line is holding). As I’ve gotten a little older, I’ve come to appreciate how wonderful my parents are, although as a teenager I had a severe case of stay-away-from-my-family-itis. But now I realize that I would be thrilled to someday have all the knowledge and experience they have. Do you find yourself doing things exactly as your parents do? Does it bother you, or is it okay?

So on the way to work this morning I had to drive past a dead skunk in the road. It must have been pretty fresh, because I had to roll down the windows after. I can still smell it, and all I did was drive by it. I can't imagine what the car that hit it must smell like. That's a crime that wouldn't exactly require CSI to solve. "So, which car hit the skunk?" (Sniff) "Not that one." (Sniff) "No, not that one either." (Sniff) "YAIIEEEEAARRGGHHH!"

I apologize profusely.

Sometimes it sounds like people are disappointed that they can’t remember anything from when they were a baby. Personally, I’m glad I don’t remember anything. Think about it. You couldn’t really move or communicate. You basically ate, slept, soiled yourself, and stared at whatever was in front of you. I imagine that if I could remember what it was like, I would be paralyzed with claustrophobia. My earliest memories start at about age 4. My dad claims he has a couple memories from before age 2. What about you?

Have you ever watched a television program that did a clip show in the first or second season? Lame. Anyway, for today's Valentine's-themed message, I'm going to refer you to my other blog , which most of you haven't seen anyway.

This morning I was thinking about all the things I have been bitten by. The list includes dogs, cats, mosquitoes, grasshoppers, ants, spiders (statistically speaking; I don’t think I’ve even been conscious when I received a spider bite), my pet hamster when I was a kid, my pet garter snake (last night as I was trying to put medicine in her nose), my son, geese, ducks, fish (trying to get a fishing hook out of their mouth), and probably a bunch of other things I’m not even aware of. Do you have anything interesting to add to the list?

Yesterday we discussed hyper-sensitive people and how fun it is to tweak them. Today let us move to the other end of the spectrum. These are the people who are invulnerable to any sort of criticism (or advice) and will do things their own way. They have no ability to even try to consider that not everyone has exactly the same needs. These folks know that there is no one else who can do what they do, at least not the right way, so they end up being control freaks. As frustrating as it can be to know someone like this, there are a couple advantages. The first is that if you’re supposed to work with them, they will make sure things get done. So if you don’t care about whatever you’re supposed to be doing, just sit back and watch the control freak take over. The second advantage to knowing someone like this is you can pretty much insult them at will with no adverse effect on the relationship. Now, if you want to have some real fun, get one of the insensitive folks and one of the hyp...

We probably all know someone who is unusually sensitive and will take offense to our every word, action, and inaction. I used to consider these people unnecessary to society, but now I realize that they provide us with two important services. First and foremost, they provide us with an important source of entertainment. Who doesn’t like to talk to the office feminist and tell her she should be home baking cookies? Sometimes the only enjoyment to be found in an otherwise depressing day is in tweaking someone for your own personal amusement. Second, these people provide us with an important yardstick by which we can gauge our own sanity. They are sort of the psychological equivalent of the miner’s canary. We can evaluate our own mental health by seeing how much we agree with those folks. The more we find ourselves in agreement, the more necessary it may be to have some sort of personality intervention. To any hyper-sensitive people who are offended, I’m glad I know you.

It’s not often that I run across a true mystery anymore, at least not one that seems very interesting. In the course of rummaging through the dusty corners of the internet, however, I have come across a couple within the last few months. And now, thanks to the marvel of Wikipedia, it’s easy to find possibly-accurate information about them. For example, there’s the “ bloop .” It’s a mysterious sound recorded in 1997 by undersea microphones off the southwest coast of South America . Analysts say it fits the profile of a sound made by a living creature, but the nature of the sound is such that it would have to be made by something with a much larger vocal apparatus than any known animal. The sound apparently recurred several times over a few months, but it hasn’t been heard since. The second is something called the Voynich manuscript . This is an illustrated book which is thought to have been written in the late 15 th or early 16 th century, but it’s written in a language that is und...

For some reason, whenever I see someone who is driving and has a stocking cap on, they're driving a Subaru. Is this some sort of new automotive gang I should be aware of? If I flash my lights at them, will they shoot me? Maybe they are ready to stop at a moment's notice to clean litter from the side of the road. Or maybe the heat just doesn't work well in those cars. I suppose I should give those folks the benefit of the doubt, especially if they know my name and address.

It’s obviously a bad thing to teach one thing and do another. Everybody can agree that hypocrisy can cause problems, such as the parent who does drugs but tells his kids not to (which, according to early 90s television, happens a lot). But isn’t hypocrisy better than teaching and saying the wrong thing? “Sit down, son, and smoke a bowl with me!” That seems worse to me than “Don’t make the same mistake I made.” Hypocrites can speak from experience. Plus I bet everybody is hypocritical in at least one way, unless you’re either perfectly virtuous or perfectly evil. So, logically, isn’t opposing hypocrisy hypocritical since we’re all hypocrites? I think I need to go lie down now. But I don’t think you should.

A while back I wrote a post about the strange research that we sometimes hear about. Well, this morning I finally realized that I had been missing the point entirely. The epiphany came when I was glancing at the headlines and saw this one: British Scientists Create Three-Parent Embryo The article, of course, goes on to state how the scientists are hopeful that it will lead to treatment of some disease or other. That’s when it hit me. Some scientists, particularly geneticists, are just big kids with powerful and expensive Legos. Remember when you were a kid and tried to build the weirdest things you could? Well, that’s where glowing pigs come in. These researchers can do pretty much whatever they want. Then they throw a dart at a board with disease names on it and say they are hoping this research will lead to treatment of those diseases. Nobody else can follow the science behind it, so we take their word for it. Genius! Why didn't I realize that before choosing a career?

Hobbies are strange things. I think it’s good for us all to be involved in some pursuit that will make us better as a person and broaden our knowledge. I have a hard time when people get too involved in something, though. Here’s a hint: if you have a bumper sticker that advertises the sexual habits of those who engage in your particular hobby, you’re probably a little too involved. Perhaps the best example I can come up with is sports. Those who know me are aware that I’m not exactly Mr. Athletic, but I do enjoy a certain level of physical activity. I even watch the occasional football or basketball game. Contrast this with die-hard sports fans. I know a guy whose 8-year-old son locked himself in the closet after his dad lost a ward basketball game. That goes beyond mere hobby. Welcome to crazy town, population you . Collecting things is another hobby that can start off innocently enough, but eventually you may find yourself drowning in Star Trek memorabilia. Collecting pictures of...

I found a great website for making anagrams . You should check it out to see what your name can make. These are the best ones it came up with for my full name: Manlier Hewn Jello No Enema Jell Whirl Hell Men Jailer Now Lamer When In Jello What did you come up with?

How long do you think it will be before Hallmark starts selling "Happy Groundhog Day" cards?