Crushing Guilt

Anytime I think of my own guilt, I think of 30 Rock. Video or transcript (last quote) of the crushing guilt scene.

Tonight, my friend Keith and I had a long conversation about all the things we feel guilty about. I am not quite done. Feel free to leave your guilt in the comments.

I feel guilty every Thursday night when I curse all the members of the AA group in my neighborhood. Great, you have been on the wagon 3 months but you still park like a drunk!

I feel guilty when I roll out of bed at 11 AM (or noon) and then tell myself that I shouldn't spend too much time on work-related tasks because "that would be a waste of time."

I feel incredibly guilty that almost all of my goals involve managing excess--eat less, relax less, own less, wander less on the internet. I am literally drowning in food, free time, possessions, and information when many people lack all of those. (By the way, here'sinteresting story about a "100 Thing Challenge", which as the name would imply, involves owning only 100 personal items.)

I feel guilty that my FSA at work will reimburse the full $1,300 for lasik even though by the time I quit I will have only contributed $300 to the plan. (I called and asked if I could fully fund the account, but apparently there is no way.)

I feel guilty that I ignore all news about Iraq, Israel, and the Middle East in general--it is too difficult to sort out all of the players, who's up, who's bad, so I just ignore everything.

Lastly, I feel guilty as I discover more and more issues where I agree with Conservatives. Every pay stub I think "I wouldn't mind lower taxes." I don't know if "starving the beast" works, but I think I would like a smaller government. Perhaps my grandpa was right all along to curse FDR--I will never see any of the money I am paying into Social Security. Baby Boomers are thieves. Did I mention, I enjoy mindless vitriol--a key plank in the Republican platform.

A quick note to Ben, my 2028 campaign manager--remind me to delete this blog before I run on the Democratic ticket. My work experience (outsourcing American middle class jobs 300 at time) will be damning enough, I don't need some post about how I ignore the Middle East, want to cut taxes, hate social programs, and can't get out of bed in the morning coming back to bite me in the butt.

PS In looking for a picture of Alec Baldwin, I came across some rockin' photos: here and here. He is a hairy man.

I Will Find This T-Shirt

This one. In fact, it was easy to find and I just bought it.

An Indecent Proposal

After a marathon Quicken session, I am finally up-to-date. I discovered that sometime early this year my net worth turned positive. (Gasp! Furrow brow.)

No worries, I intend to bite the consulting hand that feeds me, quit my job, return to school, and take on more loans.

There are some worrying headlines, however. To wit:

As Credit Crunch Spreads to Student Loans, Government Has Other Priorities

Fewer Loans for Students As Credit Crunch Spills Over

SLM As Student Loan Business Looks Broken

Hmm, worrying news. The future debacle will share some features of the current mortgage mess--we will be able to weave a victimized-by-lender story that makes your eyes roll as much as this one. We should feel outraged that an evil real estate broker convinced Maria Cruz, a house cleaner earning $1,700 a month, that she could afford a $3,200 a month mortgage. Kill me. The broker was shady. Maria has an incredibly tough life as an immigrant on $20k a year. I truly empathize with her. But, really? I can't cut her much slack on that math.

Replace Maria with anyone with student loans, really. Replace the mortgage with loans to cover "school expenses" that are often stretched to include vacations, stock bets, gambling, and worse, I am sure. Replace shady broker with the student aid adviser who didn't prohibit you from signing that dotted line. MFAs, everywhere, will be weeping.

No worries--I have a win-win situation. I call upon all students this fall to borrow much, much more than they need. Eat, drink, be merry, but nevertheless, fear the lender. Use a significant portion of those excess borrowings to short Sallie Mae. If the short works (and Sallie Mae tanks), we will be able to pay back the money with a handsome return. If the short doesn't work (i.e. Sallie Mae recovers) then we will have borrowed more money than we can pay back, we will default on our payments, we will watch Sallie Mae implode, and our short will pay off handsomely. I really don't see how this can fail.

Nightswimming

While waiting for my sandwich, I was reading this article about Cold Play's new album in the cafe's copy of Rolling Stone. I bought a few tracks just recently off iTunes--maybe they will grow on me. However, the real benefit of the article was reading how Chris Martin loves REM and specifically the under-appreciated song Nightswimming. I forgot how much I like it until he reminded me. (The video, though, sort of blows.)

Dramatic Ferris

Toasted Yahoos

I went to my first meeting of Toastmaster's International last week at the nearby Yahoo! building. I spoke extemporaneously twice. First, I blathered on for two minutes answering the question "If I could be any animal, what would I be." For some stupid reason, I chose to answer that I would be a wolf in Mongolia.

If you think that sounds stupid, I would agree. The weekend before I saw Mongol and I just finished reading Wolf Totem--both have heavy Mongolian wolf influences. I don't remember what I said, but it was barely coherent, certainly boring, and completely awkward. I might as well have chosen to be a dolphin or a unicorn.

As an aside, I read the book because it is one of the best sellers--ever--in China and Marginal Revolution recommended it. I'll have to compare it to the original translation because the version I read was not that compelling.

I then gave a 2 minute critique of a prepared speech presented by a fellow Toasted Yahoo on the importance of bacteria in the large and small intestines.

At the end of the meeting the Grammarian informed me that in four minutes of speaking, I used 19 "ums" and 12 "ahs." A filler word every 8 seconds surely is some kind of record. I will stick with it though. Ummm, if next time you see me I sound more, like, distinguished, ahhh, I think you will know why.

One Bad Decision

This week I prepared all but one meal at home. I ate mostly salads. I avoided lots of meat. I snacked on carrots. I exercised every day.

And I bought a 40 oz package of cookie dough. I had very vague intentions of baking the cookies for some unidentified person. "It would be useful to just have," I thought. Four days later, I have pretty much eaten the entire thing, without baking any of it. 2 1/2 pounds of cookie dough, 5,200 calories. I blame my mother--who always baked delicious chocolate chip cookies.

Dreaming

I took a nap this afternoon and woke myself up when I said out loud: "The only aphrodisiac you will ever need is math."

Goals Redux

Even the "World's Fastest Half Marathon" wasn't enough to get me over the 1:30 mark. I set a new PR at 1:38:25 (Harry came in at 1:37 & change). I ran the first 4 miles at pace to hit my goal (and the first mile at 6:01). Then my stomach started roiling with acid and I puked some bile over the side of the road, but just a little. I am pretty sure that acid reflux came from my pre-race In-N-Out double-double the night before.

Which gets me back to my progress on these goals which can be summed up in one word: lies. I lasted a few days trying to get up at 6 AM. I was directionally better at the reading/praying--but definitely not daily. I really didn't want to give my money to George Bush's Library, so I just lied to the website. And I would do it again. One lie to a computer nets me $500. I would do that all day long. Also, I am still at 175 pounds (reference love handles at left). I haven't run a 1:30 yet. Hopefully it will be a good summer...and these goals will take care of themselves.

Ladytron...

...has a new album, Velocifero, which is pretty good if you like electroclash (which we all do). Also, the Bulgarian lyrics on Black Cat (KCRW) remind me of the Rammstein scene in xXx where the secret agent is shot. (Jump to 3:01.) N8tsr, put your Bulgarian to work...

Simple: Gimme Big Photos...

...and I will be happy. Boston Globe (who knew anything good could come of the p.o.s. city) has a simple news site--current stories told through extremely large pictures (990 px wide). A few weeks ago, I could only find the small pics for the Chile volcano eruption, but The Big Picture somehow grabbed some large ones. I hope many more stories, like the Cassini mission to Saturn collection make it in here.

How Does the Public Find My Blog?

I appear to have some favorable google search results on the terms below. Some I can understand, but some are just awesome. Case in point, someone found my blog by searching for "'white trash' +gay." Other searches lead me to believe that I am more philosophical than I give myself credit for ("Is precision nutrition worth it?"). "Hypothetical funniness" hit a little too close to home. "Subthoracic children" is probably the most bewildering, however.

The full list, minus names of people I know.

ascii art fart
clipart stick figure gadget guy
cool things
half-ironman swim time
hang in there
heart rate at 52 bpm
heart rate while sleeping
hypothetical funniness
i'll find you des
increased heart rate while sleeping
interesting mormon facts
is precision nutrition worth it?
john cleese chapstick
josh ritter lasik
known slogans
lol quotes
m.i.a.
malibu nike missile site
popular dating thing in 1989?
resting sleeping heart rate
she-hulk gallery photoshop
she-hulk psychological disorders
sleeping heart rate
sleeping heart rate bpm
sleeping heart rate?
sleeping heartrate
stickk
stuff yellow people like
subthoracic children
the new overlord bach
the opposite meaning of greasy forehead
things cool for you age group
things that are cool for my blog
vietnam crisis
vietnam dong
what is sleeping heart rate
white trash+gay
wow ascent cool website template

Theory of Conversation, Existence

Conversation is like bad blogging you can't escape. In conversation, you take turns bringing up topics that are only as relevant as your partner is sane. You can't skip the boring parts or open up a second tab. Most of it is repetitive and unoriginal.

And I have sinned. I often start a conversation with "I read online..., I saw on TV..., I heard on the radio...." By the time I have prefaced my tidbit with "I'm making up the numbers..., I wish I could remember the author..., I forget what he said exactly..." my contribution is basically: "I saw, read, or heard something unexpected and was surprised." Ta da!

To strain the electronic metaphor further, these conversations form the web of my social existence. A group of people that understands these references coalesces around me--business people for business stuff, religious people for religious stuff, and shiftless time-wasters for internet stuff.

Group fit, intelligence, and wit are then just a function of a conversation batting average. For example, I worked the wear-leveling of flash memory (hat-tip to feed) and "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." into a conversation with my boss and one sentence later seriously claimed there was an East Coast Television and Microwave Oven Programming Division at NBC. So I hit a double with the tech- and health-obsessed partners and probably a triple with the smooth 30 Rocks reference.

Regurgitation--that is existence. If you can vomit quickly and accurately you are intelligent. If you choose to staccato-puke out certain references, in the right order, with the right timing, then you are witty. Boring.

I want to do and be more. Instead of "I read, saw, or heard..." I want to say "I researched and analyzed..., I designed and created..., or I planned and executed...." To be more precise, I want to say those things and not be lying.

Not just lying as in being untrue to myself--like borrowing a metaphor from a sport I detest and then mixing that metaphor badly because I am intellectually lazy--though that is part of it. I mean actually lying. I mean claiming to have told my boss that a mildly humorous element of a soon-to-be-overexposed sitcom is true just so I could work in the McSweeny's 30 Rocks reference. Twice.