Garfield minus Garfield
Marmaduke Explained
Scott Meets Family Circus
The Nietzsche Family Circus
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Lower case Scrabble set
Be careful what you ask for. A couple of days ago, I tweeted,
Today, Paul dropped by my lab to give me,
Thanks, Paul! Anyone want to play lower-case Scrabble?
I just invented the lower-case Scrabble set. You can use b's as q's, n's as u's, m's as w's, and l's as -'s.
AlexSzatmary
Today, Paul dropped by my lab to give me,
 |
| From Alex's id funnel |
Thanks, Paul! Anyone want to play lower-case Scrabble?
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
11 ways to simplify your Facebook life
- Don't be friends with someone that you're not friends with in real life.
- If you didn't have Facebook, and wouldn't call someone to invite them to an event, don't invite them to that event on Facebook.
- If you didn't have Facebook, and wouldn't email someone a message, don't tag them in a note on Facebook.
- If you can email someone, don't send a Facebook Message instead.
- Don't leave ambiguous status updates that make everyone think you just went through a break-up.
- Don't enter into "a relationship" with someone of the same gender unless you are sexually attracted to people of that gender.
- Quit every group that you aren't a member of in real life.
- Don't use applications.
- Don't take quizzes.
- Don't write 25 things about yourself just because your friends are. You probably can only write six interesting things about yourself, anyway.
- Don't put information on Facebook that you wouldn't put on a completely public website.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Wrong turn
Today, I was driving home from Alexandria to Baltimore; I decided to try taking I-295 north, rather than cutting through DC. I wound up taking I-95 south for 25 miles. I didn't feel bad. I felt a little sad over the loss of time, I could have been having more fun, but I didn't feel guilty.
That was new for me. One time, I got lost by a similar amount, and wrote a pages-long blog post analyzing each of my mistakes, I was obsessed. Today, I thought, "Huh, I went the wrong way. I'll turn around. No big deal." I started thinking about what that lost 50 minutes meant to me, this would come to mind several times as I drove home, but I wasn't self-accusatory today.
It was very rainy today. I left Alexandria at 3 and got home at 7; even with having made the wrong turn, the rainy traffic made it so my trip would have taken three times what it normally would have. Roughly.
I have a cold today, I have a headache, I feel drowsy, my throat is sore. I would have gotten home sooner if I hadn't stopped at Wendy's for a Frosty for my sore throat. I would have probably gotten home at 6:30 if not for the Wendy's trip, which was actually pretty long, because the line moved very slowly, and it took them 10 minutes to give me my fries, and I had to go to the bathroom. There were two cops from the DC metro police there and they had very cool uniforms, the shirts had a lot of pockets and they had neat walkie-talkies with earpieces, like the secret service officers. Most little kids, at one point or another, want to grow up to be police officers; I know that I did. When I was five, I stood at the side of the road with one hand up, indicating that the cars should stop. The drivers just waved and drove past. I don't think that that's something I totally grew out of.
Anyway, the cold helped me feel better about having made the wrong turn; I made the wrong turn because I was inattentive because I was sick. I didn't give up 50 of my best minutes, I gave up 50 pretty low quality minutes that would have probably been spent napping or reading Cracked.
The rain helped me feel better about my mistake. The rain and a bunch of other people in cars cost me twice as much time as my own mistake did today. I suppose it would have been nice if I had no traffic and would have gotten home by 5. I try to optimize my use of my time, and I think that I would deal with my time in a healthier way if I were to realize how much of it is taken up with things that are ordinary and uneventful. If I were to compare the amount of time I spend on mistakes with the amount of time I spend commuting and going to the bathroom and waiting for a latte to be made and going for a walk to clear my head and watching a movie for enjoyment and sleeping, all of these things that take up time but don't seem productive, I think I would feel better about my mistakes, I would regret them less. Life takes a lot of time, and I have trouble remembering that.
I haven't been blaming myself very much lately, and I'm glad for that. I used to blame myself a lot. This summer, I took Lexapro for anxiety and that was unpleasant. All of my feelings were thrown around, even my feelings about right and wrong, and I think that when I saw that my feelings about right and wrong didn't have to be one way, they could be another way, or any of a dozen different ways, that helped me see that my feelings about right and wrong are quite different from any sort of absolute morality. I trust my feelings about what is right and wrong much less now; I mostly call them feelings rather than rules.
It turns out that I had the bad reaction to Lexapro because I have bipolar disorder; antidepressants can do bad things to people with my condition. I often feel guilty, with no connection to things that I've actually done. When I got my diagnosis in September, I realized that my feelings of guilt were probably more due to my disorder than my actual failings. If you felt guilty most of the time, you migh become meticulous about noticing every wrong thing you do. I did.
On the day I got my diagnosis, I went to the library and checked out Bipolar Disorder for Dummies which has been a helpful manual in dealing with the disease, but the title should probably be something more like, Bipolar Disorder for People who have Troublesome Mood Swings, but it's not their Fault that they have the Disorder. I got a large iced mocha and sat by the pond and read the book for a while. I called my mom, and told her the news. She said something like, "Oh, no." or "I'm sorry." when I told her, and I told her that I thought that was a funny reaction.
I'm not happy to have bipolar disorder, I'd rather not have it, but I'd rather know that I have it than not. The diagnosis was symptomatic; I already knew that I was suffering. If I took a test and was told that I have cancer and am going to die soon, I would say "Oh, no!" When I was told that I have bipolar disorder, I was excited. The diagnosis wasn't news to me, it was a new word for the problems I had already been feeling. When I got the diagnosis, that meant that I could get better. I'll probably need medicine and psychotherapy for the rest of my life, but that's a lot better than ennui, anhedonia, and delusions. Before I got the diagnosis, before I even tried Lexapro, I dwelt a lot on the idea that I'm going to die. Mom and I talked a while, a bit about my problems and a bit about how my family is doing, and I was glad that the whole conversation wasn't about my disorder; it's good to talk to Mom.
I figured that a lot of stuff that I thought was my fault, feeling sad and guilty a lot, those feelings aren't my fault a lot of the time, those came from a real disorder, real genes tweaked real funny in the real nuclei of some of my real neurons. I spent that afternoon sitting in the sun, drinking a mocha, and reading Bipolar Disorder for Dummies, not so much for the information as to make myself feel like I was doing something to help myself get better. Even though I was glad to get a decisive diagnosis that day, it took me a while to accept it, to apply the diagnosis to myself. I sat on that bench for a couple of hours that afternoon, when I could have been in the lab getting work done. I think I used my time wisely.
The cold (disease, not temperature) and the rain made it easier for me to accept my wrong turn today. I would like it if I didn't need things like that, rationalizations, to help me not put blame and guild on myself when I make petty mistakes. I would like to become good enough at accepting mistakes that I could just move on as soon as I had gained the relevant insights, but I'm not that good at accepting mistakes yet. I think that it's okay that I'm not that good at accepting mistakes.
That was new for me. One time, I got lost by a similar amount, and wrote a pages-long blog post analyzing each of my mistakes, I was obsessed. Today, I thought, "Huh, I went the wrong way. I'll turn around. No big deal." I started thinking about what that lost 50 minutes meant to me, this would come to mind several times as I drove home, but I wasn't self-accusatory today.
It was very rainy today. I left Alexandria at 3 and got home at 7; even with having made the wrong turn, the rainy traffic made it so my trip would have taken three times what it normally would have. Roughly.
I have a cold today, I have a headache, I feel drowsy, my throat is sore. I would have gotten home sooner if I hadn't stopped at Wendy's for a Frosty for my sore throat. I would have probably gotten home at 6:30 if not for the Wendy's trip, which was actually pretty long, because the line moved very slowly, and it took them 10 minutes to give me my fries, and I had to go to the bathroom. There were two cops from the DC metro police there and they had very cool uniforms, the shirts had a lot of pockets and they had neat walkie-talkies with earpieces, like the secret service officers. Most little kids, at one point or another, want to grow up to be police officers; I know that I did. When I was five, I stood at the side of the road with one hand up, indicating that the cars should stop. The drivers just waved and drove past. I don't think that that's something I totally grew out of.
Anyway, the cold helped me feel better about having made the wrong turn; I made the wrong turn because I was inattentive because I was sick. I didn't give up 50 of my best minutes, I gave up 50 pretty low quality minutes that would have probably been spent napping or reading Cracked.
The rain helped me feel better about my mistake. The rain and a bunch of other people in cars cost me twice as much time as my own mistake did today. I suppose it would have been nice if I had no traffic and would have gotten home by 5. I try to optimize my use of my time, and I think that I would deal with my time in a healthier way if I were to realize how much of it is taken up with things that are ordinary and uneventful. If I were to compare the amount of time I spend on mistakes with the amount of time I spend commuting and going to the bathroom and waiting for a latte to be made and going for a walk to clear my head and watching a movie for enjoyment and sleeping, all of these things that take up time but don't seem productive, I think I would feel better about my mistakes, I would regret them less. Life takes a lot of time, and I have trouble remembering that.
I haven't been blaming myself very much lately, and I'm glad for that. I used to blame myself a lot. This summer, I took Lexapro for anxiety and that was unpleasant. All of my feelings were thrown around, even my feelings about right and wrong, and I think that when I saw that my feelings about right and wrong didn't have to be one way, they could be another way, or any of a dozen different ways, that helped me see that my feelings about right and wrong are quite different from any sort of absolute morality. I trust my feelings about what is right and wrong much less now; I mostly call them feelings rather than rules.
It turns out that I had the bad reaction to Lexapro because I have bipolar disorder; antidepressants can do bad things to people with my condition. I often feel guilty, with no connection to things that I've actually done. When I got my diagnosis in September, I realized that my feelings of guilt were probably more due to my disorder than my actual failings. If you felt guilty most of the time, you migh become meticulous about noticing every wrong thing you do. I did.
On the day I got my diagnosis, I went to the library and checked out Bipolar Disorder for Dummies which has been a helpful manual in dealing with the disease, but the title should probably be something more like, Bipolar Disorder for People who have Troublesome Mood Swings, but it's not their Fault that they have the Disorder. I got a large iced mocha and sat by the pond and read the book for a while. I called my mom, and told her the news. She said something like, "Oh, no." or "I'm sorry." when I told her, and I told her that I thought that was a funny reaction.
I'm not happy to have bipolar disorder, I'd rather not have it, but I'd rather know that I have it than not. The diagnosis was symptomatic; I already knew that I was suffering. If I took a test and was told that I have cancer and am going to die soon, I would say "Oh, no!" When I was told that I have bipolar disorder, I was excited. The diagnosis wasn't news to me, it was a new word for the problems I had already been feeling. When I got the diagnosis, that meant that I could get better. I'll probably need medicine and psychotherapy for the rest of my life, but that's a lot better than ennui, anhedonia, and delusions. Before I got the diagnosis, before I even tried Lexapro, I dwelt a lot on the idea that I'm going to die. Mom and I talked a while, a bit about my problems and a bit about how my family is doing, and I was glad that the whole conversation wasn't about my disorder; it's good to talk to Mom.
I figured that a lot of stuff that I thought was my fault, feeling sad and guilty a lot, those feelings aren't my fault a lot of the time, those came from a real disorder, real genes tweaked real funny in the real nuclei of some of my real neurons. I spent that afternoon sitting in the sun, drinking a mocha, and reading Bipolar Disorder for Dummies, not so much for the information as to make myself feel like I was doing something to help myself get better. Even though I was glad to get a decisive diagnosis that day, it took me a while to accept it, to apply the diagnosis to myself. I sat on that bench for a couple of hours that afternoon, when I could have been in the lab getting work done. I think I used my time wisely.
The cold (disease, not temperature) and the rain made it easier for me to accept my wrong turn today. I would like it if I didn't need things like that, rationalizations, to help me not put blame and guild on myself when I make petty mistakes. I would like to become good enough at accepting mistakes that I could just move on as soon as I had gained the relevant insights, but I'm not that good at accepting mistakes yet. I think that it's okay that I'm not that good at accepting mistakes.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Overheard
In a thrift store, I saw an old man with light hair, cut short on the sides. He was wearing jeans which had colorful embroidery on the pockets. I think he thought he was a cowboy.
I also saw a man wearing one of those bandannas that seem to be worn in support of Palestine. He was carrying a cat toy.
Driving home, I saw a man wearing an orange jacket and a green hat, carrying a big black garbage bag. He looked like an urban pumpkin hobo.
I walked past some neighbors, a mom yelled at her son, 'Do you know what happens on four days?' I didn't hear the answer, but I wonder what happened then.
I walked past two other neighbors, on said to another, 'I've got a fifth of Ever...'
I also saw a man wearing one of those bandannas that seem to be worn in support of Palestine. He was carrying a cat toy.
Driving home, I saw a man wearing an orange jacket and a green hat, carrying a big black garbage bag. He looked like an urban pumpkin hobo.
I walked past some neighbors, a mom yelled at her son, 'Do you know what happens on four days?' I didn't hear the answer, but I wonder what happened then.
I walked past two other neighbors, on said to another, 'I've got a fifth of Ever...'
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Sick day
I'm feeling ill today, I've had a cold for the past three or so days. I'm working from home, doing low-key things like reading articles and reviewing my projects.
When I was a little kid, I would get excited whenever Dad would take a sick day. Not that I wanted him to get sick, but I got extra Dad time. Even if Dad was lying on the couch, sipping ginger ale, holding a bucket close, just in case, I was glad to just be around him.
One time when Dad was sick, Mom and I were downstairs doing an experiment, we were learning about how water expands as it freezes. I asked Mom why, and she didn't know, so she sent me upstairs to Dad, who was lying ill in bed. I asked Dad why water expands as it freezes. Groggily, Dad told me to go get my Ramagon set.
Ramagon is a building toy that never took off; I have no idea where my set came from. It had a bunch of spokes that would connect to hubs. It was good for making truss structures. I made a bunch of little L's with the Ramagon, two spokes sticking off of a hub at right angles. Dad told me about how these L's are like water molecules, with the tips of the spokes representing hydrogen and the hub representing oxygen. Water, as a liquid, is a bunch of these L's sitting in a puddle, but, frozen, the water forms structures out of all of these L's stuck together, spoke to hub, hydrogen to oxygen, and that's why water expands when it freezes.
I let my rabbit out of her cage today, she's running around. I'm sitting on my futon, and she keeps jumping into my lab and nipping at the articles I'm reading.
When I was a little kid, I would get excited whenever Dad would take a sick day. Not that I wanted him to get sick, but I got extra Dad time. Even if Dad was lying on the couch, sipping ginger ale, holding a bucket close, just in case, I was glad to just be around him.
One time when Dad was sick, Mom and I were downstairs doing an experiment, we were learning about how water expands as it freezes. I asked Mom why, and she didn't know, so she sent me upstairs to Dad, who was lying ill in bed. I asked Dad why water expands as it freezes. Groggily, Dad told me to go get my Ramagon set.
Ramagon is a building toy that never took off; I have no idea where my set came from. It had a bunch of spokes that would connect to hubs. It was good for making truss structures. I made a bunch of little L's with the Ramagon, two spokes sticking off of a hub at right angles. Dad told me about how these L's are like water molecules, with the tips of the spokes representing hydrogen and the hub representing oxygen. Water, as a liquid, is a bunch of these L's sitting in a puddle, but, frozen, the water forms structures out of all of these L's stuck together, spoke to hub, hydrogen to oxygen, and that's why water expands when it freezes.
I let my rabbit out of her cage today, she's running around. I'm sitting on my futon, and she keeps jumping into my lab and nipping at the articles I'm reading.
Why the dislike button is a great idea
Facebook doesn't make much sense. The like button means three things:
I like this
I want to be notified when people comment on this
I want other people to see this
It stinks when something bad happens to a friend and they post about it, for sympathy, "I lost my job", "My dog died", etc, well, it stinks for my friend when those things happen. But it also stinks for me, because I want all of my friends to know, so they can show sympathy, and I want to be notified when other people say nice things to my poor, jobless, dogless friend. I just don't want to click the like link, because I don't want people to think that I like it that my friend is living under a bridge without a dog. This is why we should have a dislike* button, it would differ from the like button in name only.
*It could also be the "I express my sincere condolences" button.
I like this
I want to be notified when people comment on this
I want other people to see this
It stinks when something bad happens to a friend and they post about it, for sympathy, "I lost my job", "My dog died", etc, well, it stinks for my friend when those things happen. But it also stinks for me, because I want all of my friends to know, so they can show sympathy, and I want to be notified when other people say nice things to my poor, jobless, dogless friend. I just don't want to click the like link, because I don't want people to think that I like it that my friend is living under a bridge without a dog. This is why we should have a dislike* button, it would differ from the like button in name only.
*It could also be the "I express my sincere condolences" button.
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