The Weight of Words

There's few things I like more than spending an evening in conversation with a close friend over a few drinks. I'm fortunate to have friends who speak their minds at any given moment in time. I thrive off the feedback because I know that every word spoken, is softened by the warmth and safety of a strong friendly bond. My close friends - each and every one of them - have challenging minds and ways of thinking. It keeps me on my toes. It motivates me to take a step back and take stock of who I am and where I am at. It helps me redefine ideas, wear down my sharper edges or, failing that, to at least become aware of them. I might not always agree with their points of view, but I'm inclined to at least take them on board, because they come from minds I very much respect and admire.

Last night, over a quiet drink in a cosy li'l caff, the topic floated to the use of words. How to use them, when to use them and the subtle shifts between them.

It was pointed out to me that the language I use in my blog is becoming denser over time. That I increasingly use expensive words and that my sentence-structures have become more intricate. He pointed out that he didn't mean to focus on this in a pejorative light, but rather, as a simple observation. I have to admit that I wasn't really aware of any of this but he's right in that it's an important notion to consider when your writings are intended to reach an audience.

I think it's important to situate who your target audience is, because that generally determines your choice of topic and your choice of style. I gave my friend's opinions a lot of thought last night, because he of all people is someone who's viewpoints I value greatly. While his analysis is undoubtedly right, I think I've finally honed in on where I stand on the matter personally right now.


If I'm honest... I write this blog predominantly for myself. The average amount of time I spend on compiling my blogposts is about 10-15 minutes. I generally don't weigh my words nor my topics much. It's like a stream-of-conscious finding an easy outlet. My blog is like the proverbial shoebox of memories and thoughts stacked under the bed. And your part in this, as a reader, is to shine different colours of light on those memories and thoughts, so I can see more of the subtle aspects of them. So they become richer.


And the way I write, on a personal forum intended for no audience in particular, comes from deep within my belly. It's the raw, unpolished version of the language that reigns my thoughts. I love words. I love the richness of language. If I were to write science for the general public, I would adjust the level of language. But in personal matters, I revel in the richness of it all. I like thinking that my readers, like me, will go search for the meaning of a particular word they don't know yet, so words get replicated in more minds and grow stronger in their existence. My friend is one of those who do make the effort to look things up and keep learning. I think that is exactly the target audience I wish to attract, for that is exactly the person I am.

To finish off this post, I want to leave you with a gem of a phrase I recently came across in a French obituary:

"Il a basculé pour l’imparfait,
ce vilain temps où l’on ne parle de lui qu’au passé... "

QED ;)

Ouch

Doesn't this just strike a little close to home?!

The Cult of Genius

The Sunday Struggle #4

Had a bit of a rough one last night, so will keep today's Sunday Struggle nicely mellow: a random collection of gadgets, for your entertainment:

(1) USB rechargeable batteries from USBCell

(2) The Transparant Toaster









(3) The Shoewheelrack

(4) The Star Trek Voice Dimmer

Defection

After much debate, I've finally decided to defect. As of today, I am no longer a Nokia user, but the proud owner of a Sony Ericsson. It takes some getting used to, but I like the slimness and texture of the new device. Moreover, it has an excellent little camera, which is very easily hidden and used from a vest-sleeve. It's almost sad just how excited I am.

I've also paid a wee visit to the City Kingz graphic art shop in town and have expanded my wishlist by about 10 art books. I intend to get downright mucky next week by putting all my graffitti plans into action. It's time to get down to the nitty gritty bit of decorating my new flat. *grin*


Oh, and I caught this stencil today. The graphic is a tad on the flou side, but it did look nice on those materials.



And to finish this entirely contentless post, has anyone else noticed how the clubscene music has shifted the last couple of months from a style attuned to alcohol to one attuned to pills? It came up in a discussion last night, and I have to admit my friends were bang on with this remark. Not complaining though, even to a sober & responsible individual the beats are fab ;-)

Conservapedia

Have to keep it short, as I have a guest, but I just couldn't resist mentioning Conservapedia.

*shudders*

Just have a random browse on it if you've got time to spare. Prize will go to the person who spots the most hilarious or most cringeful entry.

It's pretty appalling. Like this entry or the gross omission of this. And if we're talking about bias: how can anyone get an unbiased perspective from entries like this and this.

Its definition of Wikipedia and the list of "proof of bias" on the other hand simply made me cringe. What one doesn't have to swallow in order to maintain the status quo of Freedom of Speech.

And on another note:

Pew owns a flat

... or rather... a mortgage to one ;-)

At 18.30h this evening, I officially put my signature on the deeds and I have to admit, I felt like breathing into a paper bag for quite a while afterwards. The reality is finally hitting home. I have responsibilities now people. Responsibilities!! Pew's all grown up now ;-)

If all goes well, I will be moving into my new little nest in a month or two. This will of course be accompanied by a little celebratory event, the details of which will be safely distributed to you offline so as to not further compromise what little remains of my anonymity *cough*.

While I will refrain from dispensing my new future coordinates here, I WILL lift a tip of the veil and give you a glimpse of my new stead:

- Pew's new nest. (I know, it needs a bit of work) -

On an entirely different note, I am on a mission to discover Ghent's greatest dining places, and this evening I followed a supposedly "hot tip" from my brother dearest: Martino, in the Vlaanderenstraat. Anyone hoping to die of cardiac arrest or lard-overdose, or anyone wishing to chase a stinking hangover with some grease, this is most definitely the place to be.

And to all my music-obsessed British friends out there, guess who I sat next to this evening... indeed, none other than the DeWaele Brothers (Soulwax, 2Many DJs). And for the last time, no, I'm not inclined to ask their autographs for you lot. There's a reason these people like living in Ghent, everyone ignores them *grin*.

Off to Brussels now to pick up a load of trouble (see previous post)

Tropical Confusion

It's never a good sign when you wake up with your head at the wrong end of the bed. That, incidentally, happens rather a lot of late. I dread to think just exactly what goes on in my dreams for my body to want to make a complete 180 degree turn overnight, but waking up upside down is generally a pretty solid foreboding about the rest of my day.

As you might have gathered from my second-last post, I'm ill again. I'm sure it's just a bout of that cold epidemic that's been going around, but I've been laying low nonetheless. The irony of it all is that tonight, I'm due to pick up Dr.Jim's mischievous other half at the airport in Brussels, as she's coming for a girlie visit for a few days. Last time Dr.Jim & Lou were over in Ghent with me, I was a pretty appalling host what with snot-rags spread around me left, right and centre, and I had promised them a healthier reception on a next attempt.

Anyway, I woke up this morning thinking my feeble body could do with a bit of sunshine and some extra vites so as to make a good appearance for my guest, but then, as usually happens in Belgeland, the view from the window promised little more than rain. So, I hauled myself over to the solarium. *Hangs head in shame* I know I know. Not THE brightest of ideas, but like I said, it was just bound to be one of those days.

After getting myself all undressed and goosebumpey, I went to lie down on what looked like a very modern sunbed. Too modern apparently. Once the lights came on, an exotic female voice announced that she'd be guiding me through the tanning process. Slightly panicked, I thought: "wot?! surely it's nothing more than pressing a button and getting baked golden?! I mean, once the lights are on, what more does a person need?!"

Not so.

Apparently, there's facial tanners, ab-tanners, bum tanners, facial fans, whole body fans, mp3 sound options, time delay mechanisms, head-tilt options AND an option to switch off the lady's exotic voice. So here's me thinking: "I just need to focus on finding the lady's off switch, so I can quietly revel in the idea of being on a sunny beach somewhere random." But of course, in all my blondness, I pressed the wrong button, inadvertently turning all fans on max speed, making it feel rather more like I was trying to survive a hurricane, rather than having a quiet one on the beach. It took me exactly 1.5 minutes to disable the fans. I'm sure that'll have helped my head-cold tremendously.

A disastrous couple of attempts later, I finally managed to disable the Lady's voice, only to see the lights turned off a few seconds later. Clearly, my time was up. Now... can I just say that all this confusion is extremely dangerous for a blonde like myself. I was so distracted by the interface, that I didn't even notice I had started to sunburn.

I would kindly request people not to hug, handshake, brush past or touch me for the next few days. Fank ewe.

Proof's in the Footage

The advantage of getting your dad's old Super-8 videos digitalized, is that you can finally present some answers to a few of your friend's recurrent questions. (I appologize in advance to those with slow connections).


Q: Were you always a geek with blonde tendencies or have you just recently cultivated that image because it makes you tragically hip?

A: Well...

In my defense, reading a magazine with your glasses upside down allows for an entirely new perspective on the subject matter ;-)

Q: Have you ever had an attitude problem?

A: Watch this clip twice and focus on both me (left) and my male cousin (right). Now, who has got too much testosteron and who has got too much oestrogen? And they say it isn't hereditary. Tsk.

Q: Have you ever been likened to a wee monkey?
A: That depends. Do you mean in manners or in looks? *cough*

Q: Were you always such a debater?

A: Just watch the smallest of the three kids... (Also note the stylish gender-bender outfit which I had been permitted to wear after a tantrum-ridden battle with the parentals just hours earlier.)

Q: Have you ever been captured on film with a dress on or do you always operate in stealth mode when dressing girlie?
A: Yes. But I accessorize with a BMX when operating out of stealth mode. It's a safety blanket.

I'm ill!!!! *hmph*

Sunday Struggle #3

It appears to have been a very productive Sunday so, continuing on from this morning's Sunday Struggle:

1. Living Tomorrow: open for visits from the weekend after next onwards. I'd like to go, but I don't like going to Brussels on me tod (what with it being so big & foreign and all *grin*), so drop me a line if you fancy coming.

2. Now this link will considerably alleviate my daily frustrations with trying to remember a song-title or artist. No more googling lyrics, simply plug in your mic, sing/hum the tune you're trying to find, et voila. Disclaimer: Not to be used by tonedeaf individuals ;-)

The Sunday Struggle #2

1. Surfing the web without clicking your Mouse. An excellent concept! (via Lama)


2. Computer Nostalgia: Apache Strike, the first game I ever played on my dad's Mac. I was nine and absolutely hooked. Download it at the Macintosh Garden to while away a few pointless hours on a lazy Sunday.


3. Scottish/English/Irish Accent Audio Archive. Click here for a listen to the Stirling accent (choose voiceclip 1), and you might begin to understand why I bought this book, when I first arrived in Stirling.


4. Robin Rhode: Photography in Motion

5. Cute Word of the Week: Dyke Tyke. The male equivalent of a Fag Hag (via D&TC and The Girlfriend)

6. Sunday Song: Sia - Sunday (click the filename in the box to listen)

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Collective Cultural Memory

I spent my Friday night propped up on a barstool at a cocktail bar in Ghent, flanked by two wonderfully entertaining friends. The atmosphere was cosy, the mixers tasty, conversation flowed effortlessly from one topic to the next and Ghent looked stunning in its nighttime glory.

At one point, the stranger who'd been sat next to me all night turned to us and said: "Koekoekstraat 78 or 77, in Melle?!"

It didn't take long for all three of us to place that sentence in context and serve her of a reply. I doubt there's anyone in Flanders who does not know what this phrase relates to. While most people would've thought nothing special about this occurrence, the incident made me feel slightly fuzzy warm.

Anyone who's lived abroad for an extended period of time, or anyone who's been involved in a relationship with a foreigner, undoubtedly remembers that instance in which you become acutely aware of the fact that there's a certain collective cultural memory you share with your compatriots, that is very hard to convey to foreigners. Also, no matter how much effort you put into trying to assimilate, you're always slightly behind on catching up with your host-country's own collective memory.

Try explaining "Koekoekstraat 70 in Melle" to a non-Belgian? Or try using the "Am I Bovvered?! No but am I bovvered?!" in a conversation with a non-Brit?

It's little quirky things like that which make me feel at home somewhere. When you know you're part of the cultural collective. And that one stupid insignificant sentence made me feel slightly silly fuzzy warm, about being back home.



"Am I bovvered?!?" - The Catherine Tate Show


"Koekoekstraat 70 in Melle?" - De Schalkse Ruiters

Good vibes

Well, I received word today that I've made it to the second interview round for the job I interviewed for in January (the feedback process takes bloody ages). I'm one of four people selected to go through, and the second round will consist of a videoconference with the offices in Australia, so that should be plenty exciting.

On an even better note, I'm going to an interview tomorrow for a job as Scientific Management Consultant. Dead exciting. Not the slightest bit nervous this time around. But you can wish me luck anyway because getting this job would be ace ;-) (Nan, time to light those candles again and make sure the windows stay shut so they don't accidentally blow out before 4.30pm)

Beware: Rant On The Way

I came out off the geek closet at work today. I'd received a few comments on my supposed use of expensive words (apparently the word "contamination" is classified as expensive these days) and on the fact that I was reading an English book during our breaks. So, I finally decided to out myself. Told all about how I've been living a double life and how I hope they will accept me for the geek that I am *grin*.

The response was really surprising. I had anticipated little more than a few shrugs and a stone-cold banishment from the social room. But instead, people started coming to me with more and more questions the further the day progressed. At first, it was just one of the girls. She told me she'd never had a chance to study, but had always been interested in science and its relation to things like religion, spirituality etc... We had a very pleasant conversation about this topic and I noticed that the others around us were listening intently, despite not participating.

After a while, someone else moved a little closer and said: "Would you mind if I asked you something? I've always wanted to know... birds... the way they all fly together, like... do you know how they do that, or is that not something you've studied". It's funny that this question should've come up, as it's the token example of Emergence in Complexity Studies. So I got VERY enthusiastic and explained as far as my limited knowledge stretched.

After that, the questions just kept coming from all corners. It'd turned into a game. They were testing my knowledge, but also, asking questions to which they'd apparently never found the answers themselves. And I have to say, the questions were interesting and insightful.

One of the questions though, turned the game into a rather poignant realisation. The person had been to see the doctor last week and was diagnosed with a virus, but was told by her doctor that there was no reason she shouldn't be at work. She said she couldn't remember the name of the virus, and hadn't really understood the doctor's explanation. She was worried, but afraid to ask him for more info, because she felt stupid. So I asked her if she could describe her symptoms and I said that while I was no doctor, it DID sound like a standard bout of mononucleosis. She said that that wasn't the word he had used, so I ventured a guess and said: "Well, did he maybe call it the Epstein-Barr virus?" She instantly recognised it and said: "YES!!"

It made me realise how seriously wrong we are. Us scientists, doctors, people responsible for communicating facts to laymen... we have got it seriously wrong. If a doctor doesn't sense that he should use less jargon when dealing with people who have no medical background and sends them home without answers because they are afraid to ask... then seriously, he shouldn't be a doctor.

I'm the first to admit that while I have some very libertarian-socialist viewpoints, I believe that a liberal/capitalist system is far more workable for everyone in our current global climate. We will always need people who do menial jobs... jobs that keep our economy floating. And sure, not everyone is up to the task to do high-flying jobs, but I very strongly believe that it is important that we keep including everyone into our information dispersal systems. Regardless of "status" (if you can call it that), people should always be made to feel that they belong. That they matter as much as the next person does. Because if we don't, we are re-widening a gap between the different social groups, our grandparents fought so hard for to close. Perhaps the gap will be less about money, but more about the possession of information.

The people I work with have thousands of questions. Interesting questions. And they are eager to listen if only someone would explain it to them in an understandable way. They might not read books, or browse the Internet for answers, but they like getting answers to things that pop into their heads during the experiences of every day life.

And I was thinking... maybe the government or several scientific institutes should subsidize something like an Info-Crew. Like a group of scientists/medics/experts who visit factories to work alongside the people there for a day or two, to just chat with them during work and over lunch breaks. So they get conversations going in an informal manner and people can just fire away their questions. No teaching. No lecturing. Just an easy access point to get answers to THEIR specific questions. It would certainly help to re-align the opinions about science and medicine. We'd probably start re-gaining our credibility if people felt that they OWNED the science as much as the researchers do.

Anyway. Just my two cents.

To apologize for this rant, I shall leave you with a little gem of an mp3: Metric - The Twist. Just click the file name in the box below to start listening. (Cool text as well)


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Valentine

Yeah, allright... I'm aware it's Valentine. Who gives a toss anyway. Not that I'm bitter *cough*. Well, at least not AS bitter as La Solterna is. Grin.

Anyway. I've found solace in dating videos. Yes that's right. And I think I want the one on the left ;-)

Blame My Typewriter

Right, well I'm going to give it a go. Without pretences that it will take off much.

Blame My Typewriter

I've opened this blog to run alongside Ubiquitous. I merely wanted to create a real and a fictional thread parallel to each other. Whereas Ubiquitous is a diary in stealth mode, Blame My Typewriter will be the shoebox under my bed in which I keep my attempts at fictional writing. The themes of these attemps will vary. Some might be liked. Others are bound not to be. This is MY shoebox. But you're allowed a peek.

Constructive criticism is welcome in the comment section. For any serious issues/ dilemmas/ outbursts of frustration or boredom, I'd like to refer you to My Typewriter. It's always got the last word.

Request for Help

Hey guys... I am planning to open up a parallel blog next to this one, on which I would publish my fictional short stories & proze. Does anyone know anything about copyright and authorship rights? I have no intent to ever sell my own stories later on, but if you put your texts online in a public forum, do you retain authorship rights? Just to play on the safe side... any comments welcome.

Weird Creatures

I was talking to someone about weird animals today and I remembered an episode in David Attenborough's Life of Birds where he captures the Lyre Bird on film. Not many people seem to know about these birds.

I always thought it was written "Liar Bird" because that's basically what the animal is. A liar. It mimics all the sounds around him, very much like a human beatbox. I found the clip on YouTube after a bit of searching and if you scroll on through to about 2 minutes or so into this 4 minute clip, you will actually hear the Lyre bird make the sound of a picture camera, a car alarm and, more poignantly, of chainsaws cutting down the forest.

Faffing & Geekiness reach all time high

Some PhD students clearly have far too much time on their hands: How Gay is your Starsign

Also, since I no longer live in Britain and therefore can't participate in any of the exciting competitions myself, I have decided that my brit-based scientist friends have to participate for me. It's Famelab auditions again! Jim, Ann, Od, Lynn, Fi, Bino, Rob... get in!

One I can and will try for (and would recommend to anyone with an interest in public understanding of science): Science in School Webzine.

Blue-collar Pew & The Perils of Trying to Make a Girl Smile

Well dear readers, the Pewster has finally decided to become the responsible adult she swore she'd never be: I'm buying a wee flat in Ghent. The notary is drafting the deeds to the property and I expect to sign them within the next few days. I won't elaborate much for the time being, as I don't want to jinx the deal until it's safely sealed, but suffice it to say that it is highly likely that I will be committed to mortgage down payments some three months from now. I am also, as you may well remember, still acutely unemployed. (Or as the parental unit chooses to call it: "A Doctor in Science probing the job market").

While I am still in the running for the two jobs I've applied for and while I have another interview lined up for Friday, the impending doom of down payments has somewhat spurned me into action. I signed on with a job agency last Friday and because I've refused any lab or office positions, I have been assigned a blue-collar job in a warehouse for Surf & Snowboard gear. I'm ashamed to admit that this is the first time I've ever done a job that isn't even remotely related to the higher brain functions. And it turns out to be an experience long overdue.

My first day on the job has been quite a shock to my system. It's an entirely new experience for me to be treated as if you've no intelligence whatsoever, just because of the type of job you're carrying out. The foreman assumed I'd be slow on the uptake and literally went over everything three times. After explaining to me what to do with the yellow and blue labelled items, he promised me he'd explain the green labelled items tomorrow, because "two new things is quite a lot to process on your first day". I really had to bite my tongue not to comment.

The contrast with my PhD research couldn't possibly be greater. I remember entering the Neurology Department of the hospital in Zurich on my very first day there and being greeted by the head of the department with the words: "So, what's your plan of attack for the day? How are you going to set up this experiment?". I remember feeling utterly nauseated at the thought of the responsibility I had with respect to the patients and the fact that he assumed I'd be capable of figuring everything out for myself. Back then, I often pondered the potential joys of a job without responsibilities. But after today, I can safely say that I actually really derive a weird satisfaction of that nauseated feeling of being slightly out of my depth and that I could probably never be happy doing a job without it.

The task at hand today was so mind-numbingly menial that I decided to set myself a little target challenge. About an hour later, the foreman told me I was working too fast. Apparently there's only enough work for 6 weeks worth of temping and if we work too fast, there's a risk that people will not have a paid job in 5 weeks time.

So I really needed another challenge. And man did I find a good one. The warehouse just so happens to be a bit of a lesbian hot spot and shortly after I arrived, a girl introduced herself to me with a big knowing smile. The penny didn't drop fast enough and for a while I got distinctly worried about how quickly she'd picked up on my gayness, just on the basis of my looks. But then it clicked... she'd a stamp on her hand and had clearly been at Spass this weekend. She must have spotted me there. This in turn triggered another bout of panic at just how drunkenly I must have been for her to have noticed me there. Was I swinging off poles or dancing on top of the bar?!? :s At any rate, the workplace was soon teeming with friendly smiling lesbians in the know. Except for one.

Sexy When Angry (SWA) stalked through the building all morning with aggression oozing from every single one of her movements. She kicked every box she came across with an angry grunt, never once cracked a smile and basically ignored me completely. So, to make my day ever so slightly more interesting, I set myself the challenge of making her smile before the day was up. But to add to the challenge, I set a rule that I wasn't allowed to talk to her. So I had to make her smile without ever talking to her. Not talking to her was easy. She was wearing headphones and even from 4 meters away I could hear she was doing some serious eardrum damage. Making eye-contact didn't seem to work, which complicated matters somewhat.

But then, SWA unwittingly turned the odds in my favor. She was conducting a forklift with a 3 meter pile of heavy boxes near where I was stacking some stuff. As I bent forward to pick something off the ground, stuff came crashing down all around me from behind. SWA had lost control of the forklift and the entire pile had caved in my direction. If it hadn't been for the freak chance of me bending forwards that exact moment, I would very likely have been in hospital with some serious injuries right now. The entire warehouse went dead quiet. SWA had turned completely pale and stared at me in sheer horror. Taking stock of the situation, noticing all my limbs and fingers were still attached to my body, I just turned to her with a smile and winked at her. Five seconds later, her expression of anger and horror had turned into a big smile of relief. Mission accomplished.

*sigh* what one wouldn't do to make a girl smile ;-)

Anyway. All in all, the job is ok for the temporary purpose it serves. And at any rate, any place irresponsible enough to let Pew run around with a Stanley knife, is worth a venture ;-)

I'll take my mp3 audio lectures with me tomorrow to keep my brain occupied during the menial tasks. I'd reached the lectures on Nietzsche by the time I fell ill in Argentina, but I suspect that the fever might have skewed my hearing and interpretation of the grand master to a pretty large extent. Nothing better than a healthy dose of Existentialist Angst whilst carrying out a Sisyphus-esque job ;-) Just hope no one wants to hear what "music" I'm listening to. No desire to out myself as geek just yet...

Anonimity Cloak Thwarted

Only two months in, and my decision to return to a life set in Ghent has had some fascinating consequences already. I was determined to enlarge my current social group here beyond its old established boundaries and like the true geek that I am, I enlisted the help of the wonderful medium of blogging for that quest. These last few weeks I've met some wonderful people both through blogging and some renewed efforts IRL. But last night, the reality of decloaking... of losing my blogging "anonimity", really hit home.

I was invited along to Spass and shortly after my arrival, someone asked whether I'd managed to unshrink my favorite sweater. It took me a moment to realise this question related to one of my recent blogposts. Much later on in the evening, someone else proclaimed they would start taking my writings with a pinch of salt from now on, because I had quite successfully disproven my statement that I rarely drink, by being so disgracefully trashed. *grin*

Which brings home a few rather painful realisations: (1) people pay attention, (2) if I distort the truth in the name of poetic freedom *cough*VANITY*cough* then I WILL be caught out and (3) I will have no more stories to tell IRL, because it's all been read on my blog.

On another note, I've observed a rather bizarre phenomenon. Three different random strangers I engaged in conversation at different points during the night, likened me to an L-word character somewhere mid-conversation. I found this immensely odd. "You know, you're so ***** from the L-word". Erm. No. I'm so me. It's fascinating how much this series seems to have infiltrated the mindset.

Anyway: D&TC and The Girlfriend did an excellent job last night with Spass. I look forward to the next effort.

The Sunday Struggle #1

I've decided to launch a new item on this blog: The Sunday Struggle. I generally find Sundays a struggle to get through with any sense of purpose, so from now on I will blog any entertaining links or gimmicks on a Sunday only.

- Persistent Kiwi

- A coverpop for geeks (Cheers Michiel for thinking of me this morning ;)

- Heritage Face Recognition. I started off with one picture, but being likened to N*SYNC and West Life band members hardly boosts one's self esteem, so I went a little overboard and did two more.

Mental Note

Mental Note to Self:

If you're running a little short on getting stuff dried in time to go to a party... unless you've shrunk a few inches yourself, DONT think it's a bright idea to put your favorite jeans and sweater in the dryer on MAX heat.

Where words fail...

I went to a literature/poetry night at the NTG this evening (courtesy of Ine, for which thanks!). It was a good attempt, if anything. But my head is full now. I find it hard to listen to a series of poems. I'm still processing one when the next has got its foot in the door. Certain words... evoke things which can't just be bulldozed over by the next series of words. Anyway. It's a pretty strange after-effect right now.

I made the mistake of turning on my mp3 on the drive home. It stumbled right onto this one:


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You can listen to it straight from this widget (just click on the file name: Aqualung). Five years after first hearing it, this song still reaches places few other songs manage to go to. I would write the lyrics down, but they lose half their power without the context of their music.

Not much space left in my head now. Time for bed.

Special Needs Pew

I generally consider myself to be of the reasonably intelligent variety. But at times I do wonder if perhaps I too am "special needs". I am sure many of you are dying to comment on this statement, but no, this post is not a call for "ways in which we've known Pew to be utterly blonde". I'm merely making an observation here.

I seem to be incapable of posting a blogspot comment, without getting the word verification wrong at least thrice. I am seriously starting to consider clicking the wheelchair symbol in future, to hear the spoken version of the letters.

Mmmm... maybe I simply need glasses.

Dialogue

This might be a bit of a controversial post. I apologize in advance if it offends anyone.

A friend of mine recently told me that since her relationship fell apart, she's struggling to suppress the urge to take painkillers to numb herself. She seemed embarrassed yet relieved to be able to admit to such a thing. But I don't think she's an exception. I think this happens more often than people are willing to admit.

Some people seem perfectly capable of placing their emotions on a manageable platform: if everything around them comes crashing down, they can keep functioning. I'm not sure how they do it. I suspect they simply take some distance. But how one achieves this distance is beyond me.

The other type of people, they crash when everything else does. There's no more levels to it than that: they simply are their emotions. I know for a fact that I am part of this latter group. Everything comes to a halt and you just have to let yourself fall into whatever safety net you can find. I'm lucky. I have a tremendously patient, understanding and constructively supportive family and group of friends. Whenever I've been faced with situations I couldn't cope with, I've had a place to fall. A place to simply stop "being", for a little while.

But even then, I completely understand my friend's urges. It is ridiculously tempting to just numb yourself at times, to drown out your emotions. If you're one of those people who needs to go to the depths of their emotions to be able to resurface full strength, then a bit of numbing every now and then is very welcome. There's so many tempting external ways to help you take a break when your emotions can't give you one.

Alcohol is probably the most socially accepted form of numbing. I know quite a few people who are clearly purposefully sedating themselves on a regular basis, but no one ever comments, because drinking is socially acceptable in a lot of circumstances. Painkillers are less visible, but easy to get. Drugs, more dangerous and less socially accepted, but highly effective.

I rarely drink. My number of units a month probably amounts to no more than 8. If that. I have taken class A-type drugs on no more than maybe a dozen occasions. But in retrospect, it is quite obvious that when I did drink lots or did take drugs, it was at times where I felt emotionally unstable. I'm fortunate in that I am aware of this. I know what and why I am doing such things, when I am doing them. And this keeps me from falling into a destructive pattern at those times. It enables me to make those moments a rarity.

I think it should be socially acceptable for people to give themselves a breather before facing their issues head on. And I really don't think my friend had any reason to be embarrassed about admitting such a thing. If anything, an open conversation will make her feel less alone. But I also think society should be more tuned into dependencies. If people continue to sedate themselves with latent societally accepted aids, then they simply uphold a status quo. Nothing ever improves. We don't question enough. And so there is no dialogue. The threshold to admit to problems still seems insurmountably high for some people. And others still feel shame at admitting a very human problem.

People often ask me why I am as direct as I am, in my communications with others. It's because I want dialogue. I don't want to worry about stuff I needn't worry about. Things are complicated enough as they are. I have an incredible need to be open about things. To get feedback off others so I can put myself and what goes on in and around me, in the proper perspective. I don't want to second guess other people's actions. I don't want to hide emotions. Directness might make people uncomfortable, but everyone will know exactly where I am at and where they are with me. I'm sure that's the reason my friend chose to tell me about her worries. Openness breeds openness. We're all drawing the same line here, after all. We're all just as fallible as the next person.

No Missfires Please

Too Much of a Good Thing?

I've just had a browse through my external HD and it seems I have managed to collect 9,493 mp3 files these last 3 years. That is almost 650 CDs or enough to listen for 27 days straight without having to hear the same song twice. Question is... when will I EVER do that?!? Hmmmm... I feel a challenge coming on.

Sandman on Acid

If the last two things one does before going to bed are:

(1) chatting to MaTuVu about a myriad of topics amongst which, RSS feeds , snow and web2.0
(2) reading a long email from friend Will who's ski-instructing in a very snowy Whistler, Canada (where you would've been right now, if it hadn't been for a few unfortunate, misplaced innocent snogs)




then one *really* oughtn't be all that surprised to wake up to a dream like this:

"I'm a ski-lift operator in Wikipedia Land and RSS feeds show me their skipasses to get on the chairlift. One of the RSS kids was fidgetting on the chair mid-air and slipped through the restraining bars, so I have to quickly assemble my emergency laptop kit and Safari isolation blanket and climb up to the RSS kid to resuccitate it. After a long hard day of work in the freezing cold, I am welcomed by my friends in a little chalet with a kick-ass hot tub. But the hot-tub is occupied by a bunch of gatecrashing Memes. Will serves me a hot drink while MaTuVu breaks the news that Del.icio.us has declared war on Wikipedia Land in attempt to gain world domination. We will all have to ski very hard to save our own lives."

I dread to think what the hidden message behind THIS dream is *grin*

Love is in the air

Continuing on from previous post, this was a rather amusing snippet of news to wake up to:

Astronaut in 'love kidnap plot'

How could I NOT want to be a part of all that intrigue *grin*. And I'd be an easy job to do in too, what with all the sedatives I'd be on to get me through my dread of flying.

Competition

Now here's a competition one could really sink their teeth into ;-) Check out the first prize...

New Scientist and Audi have teamed up. And as usual in New Scientist competitions, one needs to write no more than 250 words... I think I know what I'll be doing with all my spare time this week ;-)

Off the Mark

I don't normally blog about stuff like this, but... What on earth is up with the L-word?!?! The storylines in season 4 are all over the place. They've killed off/dumped/sent away all the foxy ones in the last series and have introduced some seriously questionable characters in the new one. That Papi person?!? Obviously a stunt to get Ourchart promoted. She's nowhere near believable. Jenny desperately needs killing off. Preferably by Cybill Shepherd. It would place the latter in jail, which would make viewing far less nauseating. The very thought of her with Alice.... *cringe*. I made the mistake of watching episode 4 this evening before going to bed, and well... I'm not in bed now am I? The sheer trauma of the opening scene. Nuff said.

Back to more eloquent and elevated blogposts when I've regained my eyesight.