Posts filed under ‘musings’

back on the world wide web

it has been nearly two years since i last wrote and much has changed. for instance, many of the links on the right side of this page now lead to area code 404. in addition, blogging seems to have lost much of its vigor; all the cool kids seem to be instagramming and twittering and twerking. i have an extremely loose grasp on what those terms actually mean. all in all, it seems that much has changed in the world that is the “world wide web.” coming back to the wordpress site is like re-visiting the neighborhood you grew up in. everything seemed larger to you when you were a young child. now things seems vaguely familiar and yet, not.

do people still say “surfing the world wide web?” i’m going to start saying it. maybe i’ll start calling that one of my hobbies when engaging in small talk and feigning interest in other people.

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November 27, 2013 at 6:21 pm 1 comment

on coffee, the army, and 2012

i do enjoy a cup of good coffee. in fact, i’m sipping on a cup right now as i write this and it is absolutely sublime. coffee lubricates my mind like oil in an engine and without it, i am just a hollow shell of myself.

some people take their love of coffee to the extreme. their coffee comes in fancy bags promising that no baby polar bears were clubbed to death during manufacture, they weigh their coffee beans on digital scales to the tenth of a gram, and they monitor their water temperature to ensure the “optimal brew.” most of us coffee drinkers laugh or even scorn these coffee geeks. after all, part of coffee’s appeal is its humility as it quietly does its job, day after day, without fuss or complaining.

but in this new year, i’ve come to understand the coffee geek. they seek the obscure, hidden knowledge that most people can’t be bothered with. their pursuit makes them, for a few minutes in a day, experts in something, however trivial that something may be. when everyone on average is average (by definition of the word), being an expert is a good feeling.

coffee geeks are just one manifestation of how people long to stand out and be special. how many of our daily struggles arise from our quests to differentiate ourselves from the pack? hunting that next promotion, tedious exercise, obsessively chasing knowledge, education and suffixes to names – people no longer subscribe to the u.s. army’s slogan of “be all you can be”…people now want to be even more.

so what does that mean for the new year? i think i’ll let the the over-achievers achieve their achievements. i’ll smile and wave to them as they hunt their elusive prey. i hope that they find what they are looking for and that it makes them happy. i suspect that it will not. as for me, i’ll immerse myself in the present, which at the present, is a cup of coffee.

drat, it’s gone cold.

January 2, 2012 at 2:52 pm 4 comments

on pork rinds and undershirts

everyone on the internet is an expert on something, aren’t they?

you can find grammar gurus who will point out that “everyone” is a singular pronoun and that my previous sentence should have ended with “isn’t he?” then you will have word usage nazis who will defend my usage of “they” by saying that my sentence has the best flow the way i wrote it.

if you find the need, you can reach out to connoisseurs of fine fabrics on the internet to assist you in finding the right drapes for you house. or you could get advice from running shoe buffs who know exactly the best sneaker to buy based on your weight, height, stride, and running surface.

you can experts in more obscure topics as well. a few that i found included pork rinds, wedgies, angry birds, and undershirts.

doubting the legitimacy of that last alleged “expert” on undershirts (could such a person really exist? i pondered) i recently decided to conduct my own little undershirt experiment. i have been wearing the same god-awful undershirts for the last few years. by now, they have all stretched out of shape with one end indistinguishable from the other and the armpits all stained grey. was my undershirt a function of my bankrupt personal hygiene? or was it a function of my frugality in buying the cheapest undershirts i could find?

for my experiment, i have purchased 3 Hanes undershirts ($7.50/3 shirts) and 3 Tommy Hilfiger undershirts ($15/3 shirts), which as you can see, are neatly double the cost of the Hanes. both shirts are 100% cotton. below are the parameters of the 6 month study:

– remove all other undershirts from “circulation” until completion of study
– Hanes and Tommy Hilfiger undershirts will be worn an alternating weekdays underneath my work uniform
– the same deodorant/antiperspirant will be used with each day’s wear
– launder all 6 shirts simulatenously in the same wash cycle (cold), and air dry
– tide cold-water detergent will be used for this study, no bleach

the results i am most interested in are:

– how white the shirt stays
– overall shape retention
– neck hole integrity
– fabric durability

check back in 6 months to see the results! i can tell that you are all just bursting with the same excitement i share.

August 7, 2011 at 2:30 pm Leave a comment

dream job

after i get out of pharmaceuticals, i really want to start my own business. the plan is to open up a shop somewhere in the city. what would i sell?

hotcakes.

that way, when a friend asks me “how’s business?” i could respond with:

“amazing! they’re selling like hotcakes!”

March 8, 2011 at 4:08 am Leave a comment

scabs

im pretty sure it is hardwired into our DNA to pick at our scabs. i can think of few things as satisfying as getting your fingernail underneath a thick, scaly, brown scab and flicking it off your knee in one complete piece. and who doesnt like feeling the surface of a scab? i even know a few people who enjoy eating their own scabs.

but why are we so fascinated with scabs?

underneath each scab is something quite special. what once was damaged skin and ruptured blood vessels is now returning to what it was before the injury, before the bleeding, before the pain. the scab hides this miraculous biological process and protects it from infection, and when it is ready, when the skin underneath is fully healed, the scab will fall off by itself.

when i pick at a scab on my knee, it is because i am itching to see what’s going on underneath. my curiosity as to whether my injury has healed tempts me to pick at my scab, to expose the incomplete process underneath, and ironically, this delays the regeneration process. deep down inside, i want to see healing, i want to see renewal, i want to see how my knee is supposed to look.

picking at the scab might cause you to bleed again. but its okay, your body will form another clot and another scab will take the place of the one you impulsively separated from your body.

but wouldnt it be better to wait?

January 11, 2011 at 8:02 pm Leave a comment

hot with a chance of chastity

the weatherman announced record breaking temperatures so i went to the mall.

i usually avoid malls like the plague. i see them as opulent shrines to capitalism where teenagers go to share venereal diseases and where pensioners go very early in the morning to eat bran muffins. however, the recent heatwave here in NC forced me to begrudgingly drive to the mall to buy a pair of shorts.

i’ve complained before about how buying toothpaste overwhelms me with too many choices, but it is nothing compared to buying a pair of shorts. you can get them in a million different shades of grey, khaki, and blue. they can be very short and tight, if you’re thin and stylish, or very baggy and long, if you’re a murderer concealing guns and knives. they can have extra pockets on the side to carry extra cargo, have a belt sewn  into the waistline, or if you’re feeling macguyver-ish, you can even buy shorts that have snap on attachments to convert them regular pants when it is nippy outside. inundated with options, i consulted my fashion-savvy sister who told me to stay away from poorly made pants with many pockets that showed a nasty logo – the sort scalawags wear. thus began my pursuit for a pair of shorts.

the first store i went to, and i kid you not, was actually selling shorts that not only contained numerous holes in them but also were splattered with paint. i assume the clothing company distributed a bunch of shorts to painters and builders in the area and told them to wear them on the job and return them once the shorts were completely ruined. what’s next – stores selling used hemorrhoid cream?

i went into to the next store. actually, i’m rather sure that it wasn’t so much a store as it was a male pornography studio. every wall had a ceiling-to-floor photographs of nearly naked men with tanned bodies of sinew and reps. i am not sure why a store that presumably sold clothing would choose not to put clothing on their models. doubting the business competence of this establishment, i left and continued on.

i saw a shop with a respectable looking store front and a very conservative anglo-saxon name and went in, hoping to find traditional, normal clothing. instead, i stepped into some sort of odd rave night club. it was about as dark as a coal mine and loud repetitive-sounding music blasted from gigantic speakers. the entire shop smelled of bad cologne which i assumed was caused by a customer knocking over the cologne display as a result of the darkness. not being able to shout loudly enough to the store attendant to ask where the shorts were kept because of the music and wanting to rid my nose of the terrible smells, i hurried onto the next store.

by then, my patience was waning and i had decided that any pair of shorts that adequately covered my genitals would suffice. the ones i ended up with are actually pretty normal – un-ruined, khaki shorts with normal pockets, and reasonably priced as well. my only issue with them is that instead of a zip, they have four extremely unwieldy buttons. so what i really bought was a chastity belt camouflaged as a pair of shorts.

however, i am already foreseeing situations in which these four buttons will be not undone quickly enough to meet the needs of a very full bladder. i will therefore eventually ruin these shorts with my own urine and will need a replacement pair.

after all my trouble, maybe i should have purchased a spare?

June 23, 2010 at 11:17 am 6 comments

nostalgia

i paid $2.25 for a metrocard fare yesterday. today i found this while digging through some of my old things at my parents’ place:

nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.

November 28, 2009 at 5:01 pm Leave a comment

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