Decsions - MBA

The University of South Carolina vs. The University of Southern California

Discuss.

A thin veil of white water, swept across the sand

Reading: The Waves, by Virginia Woolf.

Page 9: Islands of light are swimming on the grass. They have fallen through the trees.

Page 11: And I am left standing by the wall among the flowers.

I think this book could turn my idea of fiction on its ear (on my ear?--I'm not really sure how that phrase works, now that I try using it). I haven't been sleeping well... Tired all day and then wide awake come 11pm. 12. 1. Finally at about 1:30 or 2 I slip into a fitful sleep and I toss and turn until 7 when I start hitting snooze. Then I'm tired all day again. Rinse and repeat.

I just finished reading Thirteen Moons by Charles Frazier, which kicked a lot of ass:

Page 86: I decided many of Bear's stories and comments shared a general drift. They advised against fearing all of creation. But not because it is always benign, for it is not. It will, with certainty, consume us all. We are made to be destroyed. We are kindling for the fire, and our lives will stand as naught against the onrush of time. Bear's position, if I understood it, was that refusal to fear these general terms of existence is an honorable act of defiance.

Page 390: Melt is not necessarily the right word. We collided with some hope that all the pieces shattered in the collision might form a pleasant pattern afterward.

The next night, trying desperately to fall asleep, I read and re-read the first 1/4 page of The Waves for an hour before giving up and listening to cars slish through the snow and slush outside. I decided to give the book another chance tonight, mostly because Harry Potter #4 promised to be too page-turningly captivating and insomniating.

It is now 1am, my mind is in fits trying to wrap itself around Virginia Woolf, and I'm blogging myself to sleep.

It’s like I’m looking at the world through a new set of eyes.

I just had a major epiphany. We’re talkin’ life altering paradigm shift here.

My Spanish is muy mal, but I’m guessing that burrito, my favorite of all the foods, roughly translates to little donkey. How cool is that? And why wasn’t I able to piece this mystery together years ago?

In a related story, there’s this Korean dish I love called SamGyeopSal, which is basically barbecued pork meat. That translates to something like three layers of flesh. Even more intense were the restaurants that served OhGyeopSal – FIVE layers of flesh.

Also, the Gorditas at Taco Bell: little fat girls.

Brood. Self-Destruct. Rebuild.

Rinse and repeat.

I have my phases; the waxing and waning of my fits. We all do. No one is immune to the blues, but we all handle them differently. Not counting legitimate chemical imbalances, the coping mechanisms we each employ, I think, determine our individual dispositions and demeanors. Or perhaps, conversely, our demeanors determine our coping mechanisms.

Either way, I don't think “Compartmentalize, Sulk, Reboot” is necessarily indicative of a healthy disposition. But that's how I cope, and it's a pretty effective mechanism for me.

My troubles are minor. MINOR. I classify them under 'disenchantment' rather than 'hardship'. My mood rises and falls on the out-of-phase sine waves of personal life, career, love life, creativity, etc. For the most part, the cumulative negatives and positives of these graphs cancel each other out and maintain my typically-even keel. Occasionally, however, the frequencies of those graphs align at one extreme or the other and throw my boat in to a tizzy.

I think it is vastly important for one to understand the storm they're in. For some, drastic, evasive measures might be required to save themselves. For me, typically, my 'problems' can be solved with a couple days of brooding plus either a bottle of Scotch or a few good movies (or both).

(EH – please accept this post as my sincerest apology)

Four months later - not much to report

Work, a couple trips down to the Carolinas, work, hangin' out with friends.

I've been writing a lot of essays for grad school applications, which means I've been avoiding doing much writing for anything else. I have, however, been posting some beer reviews for SevenPack, so pop in, take a look around, and feel free to comment.

I started making some changes to my actual smoothlikebutter.com webpage (though none of the changes are showing up yet). I'll have more on that soon. Maybe I'll blog again soon. Who knows.

(actually, I suppose it's really only been three months since my last post)

Not Again...

Today, when I left work at the reasonable time at 5:30, it was dark. Not sun-setting, not dusk, dark. Maybe I'll get to see the sun again in February. Goodbye, old friend.

sigh

Delusions of Fame, Delusions of Wealth: The Pleasures of Entourage

This weekend, the twisting of my rubber arm caused me to watch tons of old episodes of Entourage. I love the show, but I find it to be dangerous -- and not just dangerous because it’s so addictive and one half-hour episode can easily turn into ten half-hour episodes and five nonrefundable hours of my life -- dangerous because I get sucked in to forgetting that I’m neither rich nor famous; nor is there any reasonable potential for me to become so.

I find myself thinking, even long after I’ve left the glamorous glow of the TV, that there’s really no reason I shouldn’t drive a Maserati, date A-list actresses, and indulge in the ritzy pleasures of Hollywood. Is the life of a civil engineer really that different from the life of a movie star? Sigh.