I stopped everything to find who wrote this accompaniment so that I could download it right now. I want to take this song on an early Sunday morning, when it's still dark, to a solitary place and listen to it over and over. Or until I find the words that mean the feeling I feel when I hear this music and sit in such a place on an early Sunday morning.
The artist is Jonathan Elias, and the song is called "Move", so you won't spend as much time as I did, looking for it.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
none is so blind as one who will not see...
This is one of my favorite books on God, the universe and everything...and the source of the title of this post. I was reading it this morning and, from the chapter titled Stalking the Wild Truth, this jumped up and hit my brain in the face:
I thought about it, and while the many multiple branches that thought spiraled off into are impossible to capture here, the conclusion I came to isn't. It was this:
Thanks to the oddities of my brain, I have no problem being more than a sixteen square person. I'm the one who, while knowing that the diagram* only contained 30 squares, thought about how it would be possible to see 32, 36 or 48 squares...maybe if a person could see alternate dimensions and what if alternate dimensions actually existed? There could be an infinite number of squares that we aren't aware of and...you get the idea.
Thinking that way is okay when needed, but maybe not so okay when it's not.
Example:
When I'm starting to get angry at the Significant Other for not taking out the trash...
(he never takes out the trash, doggone it he is so lazy and never thinks about how I'll have to take it out as soon as I get up which is the height of selfishness and come to think of it that's just one indicator of how selfish he really is which means that maybe it's a huge mistake that we're even together)
...being more than sixteen squares is a good thing...
(well wait, maybe he was just exhausted because his commute home took extra long because of the rain and then he stopped to pick up my prescription from Generic Drugstore and the 50 pound bag of dog food that he then lugged up the stairs so maybe leaving the trash wasn't personal, just exhaustion)
...but maybe not when I'm trying to learn something...
(like the studying I still have to do for my 70-297 exam which I have to take soon and I've still got networking and security and deployment to read about and test in my test forest which by the way when does that trial version of ISA Server run out and can I download a copy of Windows NT 4.0 to test an upgrade? even if I do I don't have the time and I still need to deploy that additional test DC)
Basically, considering every single possible possibility may not be such a good thing for me in every situation.
*you just have to get the book to see the diagram since I don't have an easy (i.e.: quick) way of reproducing it here. the local library may have a copy.
Be more than a sixteen square person.
I thought about it, and while the many multiple branches that thought spiraled off into are impossible to capture here, the conclusion I came to isn't. It was this:
Know when to be more than a sixteen square person.
Thanks to the oddities of my brain, I have no problem being more than a sixteen square person. I'm the one who, while knowing that the diagram* only contained 30 squares, thought about how it would be possible to see 32, 36 or 48 squares...maybe if a person could see alternate dimensions and what if alternate dimensions actually existed? There could be an infinite number of squares that we aren't aware of and...you get the idea.
Thinking that way is okay when needed, but maybe not so okay when it's not.
Example:
When I'm starting to get angry at the Significant Other for not taking out the trash...
(he never takes out the trash, doggone it he is so lazy and never thinks about how I'll have to take it out as soon as I get up which is the height of selfishness and come to think of it that's just one indicator of how selfish he really is which means that maybe it's a huge mistake that we're even together)
...being more than sixteen squares is a good thing...
(well wait, maybe he was just exhausted because his commute home took extra long because of the rain and then he stopped to pick up my prescription from Generic Drugstore and the 50 pound bag of dog food that he then lugged up the stairs so maybe leaving the trash wasn't personal, just exhaustion)
...but maybe not when I'm trying to learn something...
(like the studying I still have to do for my 70-297 exam which I have to take soon and I've still got networking and security and deployment to read about and test in my test forest which by the way when does that trial version of ISA Server run out and can I download a copy of Windows NT 4.0 to test an upgrade? even if I do I don't have the time and I still need to deploy that additional test DC)
Basically, considering every single possible possibility may not be such a good thing for me in every situation.
*you just have to get the book to see the diagram since I don't have an easy (i.e.: quick) way of reproducing it here. the local library may have a copy.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
emotions suck
I used to be emotion-free (poet, don't know it) and it was great.
Actually I was "emotion-lite"; I felt sometimes, but never to the
point where it interfered with anything I wanted to get done. Like
work, or school, or saving everyone I encountered from the future
agonies of hell (not any more, long story, later post). Given me, a
co-worker/classmate and some horrible experience, I was the one who
could still report to work the next day, early, and stay late...while
the co-worker/classmate would be at home crying, drooling or dialing
the first psychiatrist in the phone book.
This worked for a long time; it meant my acting sucked and I had few
friends, but I switched careers and was an introvert so no big losses.
Then, for various reasons too long and convoluted to include here, it
stopped working and I had to Do Something About It. Ten billion years
of therapy appointments later and now I'm the drooling, crying,
co-worker/classmate. With interest...because I'm getting double for
all those years I didn't feel, plus the newbie difficulty of managing
this brand new mass-o-stuff.
The problem is this: emotions are still a mass-o-stuff for me. They
don't come when I'd expect and show up when I don't and the very fact
that I'm writing about them like this shows I have yet to get them
integrated with the rest of me. They lag behind or race ahead or both
at once and sometimes whirlwind madly around me so I wind up bound
tight in a figurative leash...two inches from crazy at five minutes
before I'm supposed to be in a meeting. Its enough for me to wish
for the no-feeling time again.
Then again, maybe writing about it like this isn't helping matters.
Whatever.
Emotions suck.
Actually I was "emotion-lite"; I felt sometimes, but never to the
point where it interfered with anything I wanted to get done. Like
work, or school, or saving everyone I encountered from the future
agonies of hell (not any more, long story, later post). Given me, a
co-worker/classmate and some horrible experience, I was the one who
could still report to work the next day, early, and stay late...while
the co-worker/classmate would be at home crying, drooling or dialing
the first psychiatrist in the phone book.
This worked for a long time; it meant my acting sucked and I had few
friends, but I switched careers and was an introvert so no big losses.
Then, for various reasons too long and convoluted to include here, it
stopped working and I had to Do Something About It. Ten billion years
of therapy appointments later and now I'm the drooling, crying,
co-worker/classmate. With interest...because I'm getting double for
all those years I didn't feel, plus the newbie difficulty of managing
this brand new mass-o-stuff.
The problem is this: emotions are still a mass-o-stuff for me. They
don't come when I'd expect and show up when I don't and the very fact
that I'm writing about them like this shows I have yet to get them
integrated with the rest of me. They lag behind or race ahead or both
at once and sometimes whirlwind madly around me so I wind up bound
tight in a figurative leash...two inches from crazy at five minutes
before I'm supposed to be in a meeting. Its enough for me to wish
for the no-feeling time again.
Then again, maybe writing about it like this isn't helping matters.
Whatever.
Emotions suck.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
why only two elephants?
I'm glad that these two elephants were lucky enough to get a day at the beach, but I can't help but wonder: why only these two? What about the other elephants; how do they stay cool on the hottest day in Tokoyo? Couldn't they clear the beach for a few hours on the hottest day so that all the elephants could cool off?
Elephants Hit the Beach
Also, that elephant standing on the beach the entire time...the one that's just swinging his head back and forth, back and forth...is he just enjoying the movement or is he stressed?
Elephants Hit the Beach
Also, that elephant standing on the beach the entire time...the one that's just swinging his head back and forth, back and forth...is he just enjoying the movement or is he stressed?
Monday, September 07, 2009
TO: joss whedon. FROM: a depression sufferer
RE: Dollhouse Commentary, Pilot
I know it must have been difficult to record commentary for a pilot that Fox made you re-shoot, especially given the various things they had you put in (action motorcycle scene, dancing in a shirt, er, dress). Thank you, for recording it anyway, and thank you too, Elisha Dushku. Your casual banter back and forth is, for reasons unknown to me, helping ease the almost-painful, teeth-on-edge, transition between the time I took my anti-depressant, be-a-normal-person meds (6:38 AM) and the time in the near (please God, soon) future when they will take effect.
I have no illusions that you will actually find this thank-you note, given that I have little time to do the things that would make this note and this blog easily found, but if you do, you should know that your commentaries, as much as you hate doing them, do help people. And not just the 'I want to know every detail of how you created this' types.
I know it must have been difficult to record commentary for a pilot that Fox made you re-shoot, especially given the various things they had you put in (action motorcycle scene, dancing in a shirt, er, dress). Thank you, for recording it anyway, and thank you too, Elisha Dushku. Your casual banter back and forth is, for reasons unknown to me, helping ease the almost-painful, teeth-on-edge, transition between the time I took my anti-depressant, be-a-normal-person meds (6:38 AM) and the time in the near (please God, soon) future when they will take effect.
I have no illusions that you will actually find this thank-you note, given that I have little time to do the things that would make this note and this blog easily found, but if you do, you should know that your commentaries, as much as you hate doing them, do help people. And not just the 'I want to know every detail of how you created this' types.
Saturday, September 05, 2009
no good deed...
Got a call from my bank's fraud department the other day. Someone in New Zealand had tried to purchase something for the Garden City school...something that cost slightly north of two grand...along with other minor purchases; two dollars to an online dating site, one dollar to a place that only identified itself with a phone number. Going back through my account history revealed that the spurious charges started the day after making a monthly donation commitment to Your Spare Change. I also paid for a beautiful, affordable piece of jewelry as a gift to myself for spending 48 hours slogging through convoluted Microsoft documentation to prepare for a grueling certification exam, but I used PayPal for that transaction so...
Needless to say I had the fraud representative re-issue a check card and send me a claims form along with the complete list of suspect transactions.
There's a truth, lesson, or some other bleak, hard type of thing to take away from all this but I'm not going to think too hard on it or write about it here because doing so could destroy whatever tiny fragments of faith-in-humanity I have left. Instead I'm going try very hard to believe that Your Spare Change was not at fault (maybe they were hacked, maybe their transaction provider was hacked, maybe their IT person is overworked, underpaid and desperate to keep things going to the point where they made an inadvertent mistake when setting up their site) and I'm to go back to donate. But I'm going to look for a PayPal link there before I do.
Needless to say I had the fraud representative re-issue a check card and send me a claims form along with the complete list of suspect transactions.
There's a truth, lesson, or some other bleak, hard type of thing to take away from all this but I'm not going to think too hard on it or write about it here because doing so could destroy whatever tiny fragments of faith-in-humanity I have left. Instead I'm going try very hard to believe that Your Spare Change was not at fault (maybe they were hacked, maybe their transaction provider was hacked, maybe their IT person is overworked, underpaid and desperate to keep things going to the point where they made an inadvertent mistake when setting up their site) and I'm to go back to donate. But I'm going to look for a PayPal link there before I do.
Monday, August 31, 2009
the in between
I wasn't going to watch it, but I thought, 'what the hell', and clicked on the link to watch the trailer for The Lovely Bones and now I'm overcome with the familiar feeling of my inside straining to go up and out to wherever the place these beautiful images are really real.
These are only fragments of what I saw and they are taken out of context...
...but even without the music, the words and in their proper place...
...they still pull my heart so hard that I can feel my chest stretching apart to let it out.
How do they do this?
How do they create these fragments that make me homesick for someplace I've never been? That doesn't exist?
Before I fell into this I'd been telling my significant other that I had a case of the Sunday Night Blues because I couldn't think of any other way to explain what I was feeling. He told me of how his brother, when he fell sick with the same affliction, would feel better after going out to the movies.
I don't think the same cure would work for me.
These are only fragments of what I saw and they are taken out of context...
...but even without the music, the words and in their proper place...
...they still pull my heart so hard that I can feel my chest stretching apart to let it out.
How do they do this?
How do they create these fragments that make me homesick for someplace I've never been? That doesn't exist?
Before I fell into this I'd been telling my significant other that I had a case of the Sunday Night Blues because I couldn't think of any other way to explain what I was feeling. He told me of how his brother, when he fell sick with the same affliction, would feel better after going out to the movies.
I don't think the same cure would work for me.
this is only a test
I am trying yet another Blackberry-based client blogging app in hopes that a) it will work and ultimately b) mobile blogging capability will allow me to post more often. This one uses a proxy to funnel info through, so while it may work, I'm not sure if I can trust it.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
that's exactly it
"If you could be the plain old Willow or super Willow...who would you be?"
-Willow, "Wrecked"
I've seen this episode numerous times but this is the first time I really, really heard this scene...mostly because the first time I saw the episode I hated it with a fierce and angry hatred. Seeing it again in sequence with the rest of season five, and the seasons prior, helped, but only slightly. Basically hatred turned into tolerance; I'd watch it when it came up in the TNT Buffy repeat-a-thon but I'd usually be doing something else at the same time, not really paying attention.
I was doing something else at the same time today as well; my usual weekend activity of slogging through the endless pages of documentation I'll need to read in preparation for a grueling exam. Which made Willow's line, about plain and super Willow, stand out in sharp relief. If I had an option between trodding through all of the endlessly repeating tasks and chores, negotiations and diplomacy that seems to make up life at the moment, I'd opt for being super too.
Too bad that's not even an option at the moment.
Back to the books...
-Willow, "Wrecked"
I've seen this episode numerous times but this is the first time I really, really heard this scene...mostly because the first time I saw the episode I hated it with a fierce and angry hatred. Seeing it again in sequence with the rest of season five, and the seasons prior, helped, but only slightly. Basically hatred turned into tolerance; I'd watch it when it came up in the TNT Buffy repeat-a-thon but I'd usually be doing something else at the same time, not really paying attention.
I was doing something else at the same time today as well; my usual weekend activity of slogging through the endless pages of documentation I'll need to read in preparation for a grueling exam. Which made Willow's line, about plain and super Willow, stand out in sharp relief. If I had an option between trodding through all of the endlessly repeating tasks and chores, negotiations and diplomacy that seems to make up life at the moment, I'd opt for being super too.
Too bad that's not even an option at the moment.
Back to the books...
Monday, August 24, 2009
drowned, dead things
Not that I presume that anyone is reading this, but for those who are it should be obvious by now that I'm a big commentary buff. Which means that, to keep my supply of commentary fresh (and by "fresh" I mean "whatever I haven't heard in a month or more") I purchase DVDs pretty regularly.
Lately I've been going through the Buffy The Vampire Slayer series, in no particular order, which means I started going though Season Six last week. For those reading who aren't familiar with the Buffyverse, Season Six is commonly known as the dark season; Buffy's friends bring her back to life by tearing her heaven, mistakenly thinking that they're rescuing her from a hell dimension of unbearable torment and she, along with everyone around her, suffer for it for the entire season.
And therein lies the problem.
If I wanted to explain, really explain, to someone what depression feels like...if I wanted to give someone who has never experienced depression the knowledge of what it feels like to live with it...I would sit them down in front of the TV, hand them the boxed set of Season Six and the remote, tell them to press play and watch Buffy in every single episode. From "Once More With Feeling" to "Dead Things", it is the single best depiction of what it's like to live with the grinding, relentless, unending hell that is depression.
Especially, especially "Dead Things"
Unfortunately this means that watching it for the commentary is extremely hard. More so when my medication du jour is winding down. The bleak parts of each episode, which make up about 50% of the total, have a way of seeping into my limbs.
Lately I've been going through the Buffy The Vampire Slayer series, in no particular order, which means I started going though Season Six last week. For those reading who aren't familiar with the Buffyverse, Season Six is commonly known as the dark season; Buffy's friends bring her back to life by tearing her heaven, mistakenly thinking that they're rescuing her from a hell dimension of unbearable torment and she, along with everyone around her, suffer for it for the entire season.
And therein lies the problem.
If I wanted to explain, really explain, to someone what depression feels like...if I wanted to give someone who has never experienced depression the knowledge of what it feels like to live with it...I would sit them down in front of the TV, hand them the boxed set of Season Six and the remote, tell them to press play and watch Buffy in every single episode. From "Once More With Feeling" to "Dead Things", it is the single best depiction of what it's like to live with the grinding, relentless, unending hell that is depression.
Especially, especially "Dead Things"
Unfortunately this means that watching it for the commentary is extremely hard. More so when my medication du jour is winding down. The bleak parts of each episode, which make up about 50% of the total, have a way of seeping into my limbs.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
addendum: top movie/tv commentaries
Because I'm listening to one I forgot to include right now:
Ocean's Eleven: The cast commentary track with Matt Damon, Brad Pitt and Andy Garcia. Mood of commentary: Relaxed, casual...a group of guys hanging out while watching sports kind of vibe. Highlights: Matt Damon's imitation of Jerry Weintraub...Brad Pitt's "Ladies and gentleman...
Ocean's Eleven: The cast commentary track with Matt Damon, Brad Pitt and Andy Garcia. Mood of commentary: Relaxed, casual...a group of guys hanging out while watching sports kind of vibe. Highlights: Matt Damon's imitation of Jerry Weintraub...Brad Pitt's "Ladies and gentleman...
Monday, July 20, 2009
the top movie/television commentaries period.
Yesterday I lucked out by finding a copy of the Deluxe Edition DVD of Resident Evil (as opposed to the packaged version of all three movies or the Deluxe Edition DVD of Resident Evil Two or Resident Evil: Extinction) at Target. I'd been keeping an eye out for it ever since I'd rented it from Blockbuster and, the day before it was due back, decided, in a what-the-hell sort of way, to listen to the commentary track. Which turned out to be one of the funniest things I'd heard. Which also made me laugh out loud, no mean feat since I was, I'm fairly sure, in the midst of a pretty serious bout of depression at the time. I think. Depression and its associated medications being what they are, my recall is none too reliable.
But I digress.
Watching my lucky find this morning generated the idea that is the title of this post, namely a list of top DVD commentaries slash commentators. So, without furhering the ado, here it is (in no particular order or rank):
But I digress.
Watching my lucky find this morning generated the idea that is the title of this post, namely a list of top DVD commentaries slash commentators. So, without furhering the ado, here it is (in no particular order or rank):
- Firefly: Unfairly canceled TV series about, in a nutshell, a Chinese western set in the future. What you learn: Joss Whedon had an existential epiphany that played a part in the episode "Objects in Space", and Nathan Fillion had a posterior that, apparently, all of the costume ladies wanted to see. Mood of commentary: Varies. Any of the commentaries featuring Nathan, Alan or Nathan and Alan are riddled with humor. As are the ones with Joss Whedon, but with more of a ascerbic bent. The others are amusing and informational. Kinda like listening in on a group of friends talk about the band they were a part of a while ago.
- Resident Evil: Movie based on a video game that, apparently everyone, acting in or directing the movie, played. What you learn: Michelle Rodriguez knows her way around guns but has difficulty pronouncing Mila Jovovich's last name and both are serious, serious gamers. Also, there was quite a bit of partying going on after hours. Mood of commentary: Like the entire cast and crew got together in a studio, cracked a few (dozen) beers each and talked while occasionally watching the movie. Very funny.
- Heroes, Seasons 1 & 2: Ongoing TV series about ordinary people developing extraordinary powers. No, I'm not jealous. What you learn: Hayden Panetierre can cry on cue, HRG stands for horn-rimmed glasses and Noah Grey-Cabey is a piano prodigy who played with the Australian Symphony Orchestra at three years of age. And I'm not the only one that thought there was a lot of touching between Adrian Pasdar (Noah Bennett) and Milo Ventimiglia (Peter Petrelli) Mood of commentary: Varies, however, thanks to Greg Grunberg, who does many of them, many have a wise-cracking, excited, joshing quality. Grunberg doing commentary is like your good-natured, excitable, big brother talking about the motorcycle he's always wanted and just bought.
- Usual Suspects: Still number one on my all time favorite movies list, and has been since I saw it years ago. What you learn: That the movie was made with scotch tape, a bent paper clip and every single favor that the screenwriters could call in. Mood of commentary: Two friends talking about the amazing, fantastic, camping trip they took in the Rockies when they were chased by a bear, fell of a cliff and got dysentery from the river water they were forced to drink when their canteens ran out, but survived everything AND found gold buried under the place they camped on the last day.
Monday, June 22, 2009
random thoughts and strange musings, part three
Off we go
thought the first
Saw this link when I opened my browser to access my work email and opened it in a new tab immediately, as, given the events of the past few days, it's information that I could use. One disheartening discovery is that controlling emotions involves feeling them...something I'd rather avoid, as emotions as I experience them are distractingly strong. When I'm angry, it's to the point where I feel as though I will spontaneously ignite. When I'm sad, it's to the point where the air feels heavy.
thought the second
Regarding the "all-or-nothing" thinking...I agree with what the article says, however, I find that it's considering the shades of grey in a situation that traps my mind in introspection. Considering all the angles of a situation leads to considering all of the potential outcomes of every situation which is a feeling akin to standing in front of the Sears Tower watching the advance of a tidal wave that towers over it.
thought the third
A single 20mg of Adderall XR has a more gradual onset than a 30mg, but does not provide enough of the active ingredients to create the right levels of neurotransmitters in my brain. Perhaps 2 20mg of Adderall XR would provide the same gradual onset but achieve the correct neurotransmitter mix as the 30mg would.
thought the third, part a
Look up the breakdown of amphetamine salts in a 20mg dose of Adderall XR as opposed to a 30mg Adderall XR.
thought the first
Saw this link when I opened my browser to access my work email and opened it in a new tab immediately, as, given the events of the past few days, it's information that I could use. One disheartening discovery is that controlling emotions involves feeling them...something I'd rather avoid, as emotions as I experience them are distractingly strong. When I'm angry, it's to the point where I feel as though I will spontaneously ignite. When I'm sad, it's to the point where the air feels heavy.
thought the second
Regarding the "all-or-nothing" thinking...I agree with what the article says, however, I find that it's considering the shades of grey in a situation that traps my mind in introspection. Considering all the angles of a situation leads to considering all of the potential outcomes of every situation which is a feeling akin to standing in front of the Sears Tower watching the advance of a tidal wave that towers over it.
thought the third
A single 20mg of Adderall XR has a more gradual onset than a 30mg, but does not provide enough of the active ingredients to create the right levels of neurotransmitters in my brain. Perhaps 2 20mg of Adderall XR would provide the same gradual onset but achieve the correct neurotransmitter mix as the 30mg would.
thought the third, part a
Look up the breakdown of amphetamine salts in a 20mg dose of Adderall XR as opposed to a 30mg Adderall XR.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
random thoughts and strange musings, part two
For an explanation of the title, see previous post. Otherwise, on we go.
thought the first
Maybe the genetic susceptibility to brain lesions also causes abnormally strong desires for alternate realities (which I have), abnormal convictions that there are alternate realities (which I think I have), or abnormally strong desires for 'exceptional abilities' (which I definitely have). Or maybe I have brain lesions already and they're responsible for the abnormally strong feelings and convictions.
thought the first, part b
it would be nice if either the genetic susceptibility or the brain lesions actually caused 'exceptional abilities' to develop but given that demyelination is a degenerative process, it's highly unlikely
thought the second
A good story for a science-fiction or fantasy writer to create would be the person who had a strong sense, conviction or desire to be a person with superhuman abilities but the abilities never appeared. Basically the story of Peter Petrelli (Heroes) or Hiro (also Heroes) if their 'meant for something more' thoughts never happened. At all. How they learned to cope. Though that would be depressing, so maybe it's not a good story idea.
thought the third
Maybe I could be the first person for whom the genetic susceptibility for brain lesions (or actual brain lesions, if that's the case) had positive results. Maybe not exceptional abilities, or superhuman powers, but increased resistance to pain, or higher intelligence. Like that John Travolta movie, Phenomenon.
thought the fourth
Must find out if there is a multiple sclerosis study I could join that tracks the genetic causality of the disease. Our familiy must be an interesting case, given a parent in which the disease did not manifest until early 70s and, of two female children and one male, disease manifestation occurred in the male sibling (women are more likely than men to develop MS).
thought the first
Maybe the genetic susceptibility to brain lesions also causes abnormally strong desires for alternate realities (which I have), abnormal convictions that there are alternate realities (which I think I have), or abnormally strong desires for 'exceptional abilities' (which I definitely have). Or maybe I have brain lesions already and they're responsible for the abnormally strong feelings and convictions.
thought the first, part b
it would be nice if either the genetic susceptibility or the brain lesions actually caused 'exceptional abilities' to develop but given that demyelination is a degenerative process, it's highly unlikely
thought the second
A good story for a science-fiction or fantasy writer to create would be the person who had a strong sense, conviction or desire to be a person with superhuman abilities but the abilities never appeared. Basically the story of Peter Petrelli (Heroes) or Hiro (also Heroes) if their 'meant for something more' thoughts never happened. At all. How they learned to cope. Though that would be depressing, so maybe it's not a good story idea.
thought the third
Maybe I could be the first person for whom the genetic susceptibility for brain lesions (or actual brain lesions, if that's the case) had positive results. Maybe not exceptional abilities, or superhuman powers, but increased resistance to pain, or higher intelligence. Like that John Travolta movie, Phenomenon.
thought the fourth
Must find out if there is a multiple sclerosis study I could join that tracks the genetic causality of the disease. Our familiy must be an interesting case, given a parent in which the disease did not manifest until early 70s and, of two female children and one male, disease manifestation occurred in the male sibling (women are more likely than men to develop MS).
Monday, June 15, 2009
random thoughts and strange musings
Rather than taking the time to research the thoughts that occur to me, then trying to find the time to research the thoughts, then never having time to research and subsequently failing to post the finished post with research because of lack of time for writing and researching, I thought it might be better to just put the thoughts out there.
Bonus: the tangled mess of my brain will become apparent and I'll have a reference in case I ever have time to research.
So. Without further fuss.
thought the first
You know how people tend to lean towards the creative or towards the analytical? What if the problem with my brain, the reason why I have depression/anxiety issues, is that I am a tending creative that is also working analytical.
Meaning this: I photograph. I did oil pastels and, for a brief moment I studied theatrical arts and wrote lots of stories. I also happen to make a living working with computers and all the logistical, analytical components that go with them. I like doing both, but what if developing both sides of my brain in this manner is somehow damaging it?
thought the second
I saw "Up" this past weekend. It was a fantastic movie, marred only by the gradual onset of a dull, burning, boring pain just below my sternum that did not abate until well into the evening. Since I didn't want to make a trip to the emergency room and I had nothing else to do while curled up in pain, I hit up WebMD's symptom checker to try to figure out why I was hurting and what would stop it.
After ruling out a heart attack, and briefly considering pancreatitis, I found peptic ulcers, which are caused by an excess of stomach acid, which made me wonder if the reason why Adderall XR behaves like Adderall-minus-the-XR in my system, is because of an overproduction of stomach acid, thus breaking down the shell and coatings that make the XR an XR.
thought the second, part b
Alternate Malfunctioning Adderall XR theory: Since I have one parent and one sibling with an autoimmune disease involving brain lesions (multiple sclerosis), maybe I've inherited a similar neurological malfunction or abnormality (synapses too far apart, myelin too thick) that decreases the effecacy of Adderall XR. Or impairs the release of dopamine in the synaptic cleft, which is what I think Adderall XR does.
thought the third
Reading the introduction of Neil Gaiman's "Fragile Things", I came across the bonus short story "The Mapmaker" and this particular phrase:
thought the fourth
Experiments have been done that show people, given the proper equipment, can move external objects using their thoughts. Specifically the neurochemical energy of their thoughts, which (I think) is then translated into electrical energy or signals. Given such experiments, wouldn't it be possible to somehow bypass the equipment and translate the neurochemical energy into a medium that could move external objects? Instead of translating that energy into electrical energy or signals, what about into an energy that did not require a physical conduit...say radio waves or something else?
More (hopefully) next time. For now it's back to Active Directory security and OpsMgr configuration...i.e. work.
Bonus: the tangled mess of my brain will become apparent and I'll have a reference in case I ever have time to research.
So. Without further fuss.
thought the first
You know how people tend to lean towards the creative or towards the analytical? What if the problem with my brain, the reason why I have depression/anxiety issues, is that I am a tending creative that is also working analytical.
Meaning this: I photograph. I did oil pastels and, for a brief moment I studied theatrical arts and wrote lots of stories. I also happen to make a living working with computers and all the logistical, analytical components that go with them. I like doing both, but what if developing both sides of my brain in this manner is somehow damaging it?
thought the second
I saw "Up" this past weekend. It was a fantastic movie, marred only by the gradual onset of a dull, burning, boring pain just below my sternum that did not abate until well into the evening. Since I didn't want to make a trip to the emergency room and I had nothing else to do while curled up in pain, I hit up WebMD's symptom checker to try to figure out why I was hurting and what would stop it.
After ruling out a heart attack, and briefly considering pancreatitis, I found peptic ulcers, which are caused by an excess of stomach acid, which made me wonder if the reason why Adderall XR behaves like Adderall-minus-the-XR in my system, is because of an overproduction of stomach acid, thus breaking down the shell and coatings that make the XR an XR.
thought the second, part b
Alternate Malfunctioning Adderall XR theory: Since I have one parent and one sibling with an autoimmune disease involving brain lesions (multiple sclerosis), maybe I've inherited a similar neurological malfunction or abnormality (synapses too far apart, myelin too thick) that decreases the effecacy of Adderall XR. Or impairs the release of dopamine in the synaptic cleft, which is what I think Adderall XR does.
thought the third
Reading the introduction of Neil Gaiman's "Fragile Things", I came across the bonus short story "The Mapmaker" and this particular phrase:
A pale carp broke the surface of the water, shattering the reflection of the golden moon into a hundred dancing fragments, each a tiny moon in its own right, and then the moons coalesced into one unbroken circle of reflected light, hanging golden in water the color of the night sky, which was so rich a purple that it could never have been mistaken for black (emphasis mine)which made me wonder if I still had my oil pastels, and specifically a purple and the black that I could combine to create such a purple. And if I could successfully use that purple to create the picture, with oil pastels, that the above phrase made in my head.
thought the fourth
Experiments have been done that show people, given the proper equipment, can move external objects using their thoughts. Specifically the neurochemical energy of their thoughts, which (I think) is then translated into electrical energy or signals. Given such experiments, wouldn't it be possible to somehow bypass the equipment and translate the neurochemical energy into a medium that could move external objects? Instead of translating that energy into electrical energy or signals, what about into an energy that did not require a physical conduit...say radio waves or something else?
More (hopefully) next time. For now it's back to Active Directory security and OpsMgr configuration...i.e. work.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
open letter to mr. joss whedon, on performance at this american life live at chicago theatre
Having been a classical pianist during my teenage years, having experienced first-hand the sheer terror that comes before and during a public performance and, having quit playing piano for that very reason (since you can't be a professional pianist if your hands shake to the point of being unable to play) I can say with utter honesty and a complete lack of sarcasm or fawning, that your willingness to perform at the Chicago Theater on April 19th, 2009 was nothing short of incredible.
My hat is off to you, sir.
My hat is off to you, sir.
Friday, May 29, 2009
an absolute must have
For every IT department in every company there needs to be a room. Preferably in the lowest level of the building, but any floor will do, so long as the room is appropriately soundproofed so that not the slightest hint of sound escapes.
There would be an occupied/unoccupied slider tag to either side of the entrance, along with a hook mounted key which would lock and unlock the doorway to said entrance. From the inside only (although an alternate method of entry, used only in emergencies, could be allowed)
Ideally this room would be sized to comfortably accommodate the tallest/largest employee and the following items:
I'm convinced this would significantly reduce the amount of stress in the workplace.
Unfortunately, it would not cover the morning and/or evening commute.
*Other departments need not be excluded. For every other department needing to reduce stress and/or anger levels, an additional room would be added.
**If the reason for this post wasn't clear, here it is: I really, really, really, really, REALLY could use such a room. I could have made good use of such a room this week. Why? That's another post, when I actually have time and am not pilfering it from my (non-existent) lunch.
There would be an occupied/unoccupied slider tag to either side of the entrance, along with a hook mounted key which would lock and unlock the doorway to said entrance. From the inside only (although an alternate method of entry, used only in emergencies, could be allowed)
Ideally this room would be sized to comfortably accommodate the tallest/largest employee and the following items:
- a full sized hanging punching bag
- boxing gloves and requisite tape
- a regulation sized baseball bat
- a box of regulation baseballs
- a box and/or drawer of china and/or glass plates
- safety goggles.
I'm convinced this would significantly reduce the amount of stress in the workplace.
Unfortunately, it would not cover the morning and/or evening commute.
*Other departments need not be excluded. For every other department needing to reduce stress and/or anger levels, an additional room would be added.
**If the reason for this post wasn't clear, here it is: I really, really, really, really, REALLY could use such a room. I could have made good use of such a room this week. Why? That's another post, when I actually have time and am not pilfering it from my (non-existent) lunch.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
the joys of being a female techhead
I work with Active Directory and Windows Servers. Which means, nine times out of ten, I'm working in a department in which I am the sole female employee.
There are days that I wonder if ERA and all that ever happened or if it was some odd historical fiction that somehow got recorded as Actually Happened for the books
In the past four hours I've had two, borderline three exchanges with fellow and interdepartmental co-workers that were the epitome of misogynistic and patronizing. And before you say, 'might I be overreacting', stop. It's true! I have email proof, although I can't post them here for security and identification reasons. You'll have to trust me.
What I want to know is, who do these guys think they are and why on earth would they think that I would put up with this type of crap? That and where exactly do they get off? Don't bother answering, they're anger-releasing questions so that I don't go completely berserk and start screaming at the top of my lungs. I've already sent the pointedly polite, barbed responses and I swear I'm getting Urban Terror to work on Vista this afternoon if it's the last thing I do before exploding.
I'm already grappling with anxiety and all of its physical manifestations...it's one of the lovely side effects of the chemical cocktail I take to keep the black dog at bay. Stuff like this only makes it that much harder not to jump out of my skin.
This rant has been brought to you by the colors red, and orange, and the words enraged and infuriated.
There are days that I wonder if ERA and all that ever happened or if it was some odd historical fiction that somehow got recorded as Actually Happened for the books
In the past four hours I've had two, borderline three exchanges with fellow and interdepartmental co-workers that were the epitome of misogynistic and patronizing. And before you say, 'might I be overreacting', stop. It's true! I have email proof, although I can't post them here for security and identification reasons. You'll have to trust me.
What I want to know is, who do these guys think they are and why on earth would they think that I would put up with this type of crap? That and where exactly do they get off? Don't bother answering, they're anger-releasing questions so that I don't go completely berserk and start screaming at the top of my lungs. I've already sent the pointedly polite, barbed responses and I swear I'm getting Urban Terror to work on Vista this afternoon if it's the last thing I do before exploding.
I'm already grappling with anxiety and all of its physical manifestations...it's one of the lovely side effects of the chemical cocktail I take to keep the black dog at bay. Stuff like this only makes it that much harder not to jump out of my skin.
This rant has been brought to you by the colors red, and orange, and the words enraged and infuriated.
the more things change...
You know the rest.
I haven't posted in a long while, for various reasons (to hopefully become clear later), but mostly because my depression is in remission.
Which is not the same as cancer-related remission: depression never really goes away. I still have to take the pharmaceutical cocktails, eat the mood enhancing foods in the right amounts (to avoid the pound-packing side effects of the aforementioned cocktails). I still have to be careful of what you watch, listen to or read: Seinfeld good, Tori Amos not-so-good, The Godfather forget it. Which is sad because Tori Amos has some truly wonderful music. I've consoled myself by reading and re-reading and re-re-reading her book, which reassures me that there are others out there that march to the beat of the drums they've made, and have done quite well.
But I digress. Long story short: my energies have gone from daily digging myself up out of my depression to dealing with the day to day craziness of keeping it at bay while getting on with life and all of its associated insanity. And as that goes, so goes the focus of this blog. I no longer need a place to put everything I'm doing to pull myself out of the pit, I need a place to put the craziness that happens in my thoughts and in my life so that I don't fall back in. Hence the title, link and description changes for this blog. Maybe, if I ever have the time, I'll throw some design changes in as well.
Hopefully, I won’t need to change it back any time soon. If this blog works for me the way it should, I shouldn’t.
I haven't posted in a long while, for various reasons (to hopefully become clear later), but mostly because my depression is in remission.
Which is not the same as cancer-related remission: depression never really goes away. I still have to take the pharmaceutical cocktails, eat the mood enhancing foods in the right amounts (to avoid the pound-packing side effects of the aforementioned cocktails). I still have to be careful of what you watch, listen to or read: Seinfeld good, Tori Amos not-so-good, The Godfather forget it. Which is sad because Tori Amos has some truly wonderful music. I've consoled myself by reading and re-reading and re-re-reading her book, which reassures me that there are others out there that march to the beat of the drums they've made, and have done quite well.
But I digress. Long story short: my energies have gone from daily digging myself up out of my depression to dealing with the day to day craziness of keeping it at bay while getting on with life and all of its associated insanity. And as that goes, so goes the focus of this blog. I no longer need a place to put everything I'm doing to pull myself out of the pit, I need a place to put the craziness that happens in my thoughts and in my life so that I don't fall back in. Hence the title, link and description changes for this blog. Maybe, if I ever have the time, I'll throw some design changes in as well.
Hopefully, I won’t need to change it back any time soon. If this blog works for me the way it should, I shouldn’t.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Ultimate Lemonade From Lemons
For numerous reasons it has been a long while since I posted. However, this story I had to post.
As a depression sufferer (there has to be a better name for someone who suffers from depression, depressive is too limiting and I don't know of another) I have to be extremely careful of what I read and when I read it. So while I knew the bare facts of Michael Vick's arrest and subsequent revelation of his disgusting habit, I didn't know the details. Most of the sad headlines would appear in my Google Reader when I couldn't read them: just before the noon hour and later in the afternoon, which are transient times for me.
This story was different. For once, I came across it right after my depression meds kicked in, and also it laid out a story that not only contained a satisfying number of past details but was leavened with good news about the fate of Vick's victims. I can hold this story in reserve for future sadder times, during which I will remind myself that not everything goes to hell.
As a depression sufferer (there has to be a better name for someone who suffers from depression, depressive is too limiting and I don't know of another) I have to be extremely careful of what I read and when I read it. So while I knew the bare facts of Michael Vick's arrest and subsequent revelation of his disgusting habit, I didn't know the details. Most of the sad headlines would appear in my Google Reader when I couldn't read them: just before the noon hour and later in the afternoon, which are transient times for me.
This story was different. For once, I came across it right after my depression meds kicked in, and also it laid out a story that not only contained a satisfying number of past details but was leavened with good news about the fate of Vick's victims. I can hold this story in reserve for future sadder times, during which I will remind myself that not everything goes to hell.
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