Rants and Ravings

I started my fourth book, The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao.  Unfortunately, I set it aside these past few days to enter in a cake competition at work for Valentine’s Day, celebrate Chinese New Year and a friend’s birthday.  Although a part of me does feel a tinge of guilt, I decided to make a trip to the library this weekend to pick up another book — just in case.

As I was skimming through the first chapters of A Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, I realized that a lot of the characters in my book are rather tragic.  In their own flawed way, they seem to have a difficult time.  Oscar, in my first book, is obese and an uber-nerd with failed attempts at love.  His mom lived a life where she aspired for more but ended up (as far as I’ve read) in a sordid affair with a shady gangster and then dying of cancer.  Christopher in the current book obliviously lives his life trying to reason out humanity…but has a difficult time because of his autism.

Although I can appreciate that good characters have color and flaws, it made me realize why fantasy and fairy tales often appeal to me.  In a world where you run into complexities like how you can’t explain why you’re unhappy with someone, or why someone rubs you the wrong way, or why you simply just want to be alone - I find a bit of solace in escaping into a world that is black and white.  There’s not analyzing or deeper meaning and understanding in some books: Heroes and villains, protagonists and antagonists.  That’s all you really need to worry about.  You naturally cheer for the good, boo for the bad.

On a tangent, today is Valentine’s Day.  Although I’m normally one for holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving, sometimes Valentine’s Day just rubs me the wrong way.  As a kid, I didn’t mind it.  In fact, strangely enough, I don’t mind the days leading UP to Valentine’s Day.  But for some reason, unlike the climactic joy of Christmas, when Valentine’s Day finally arrives I just get grumpy.

via Sister72 Flickr page

Maybe it’s the blatant commercialism, the unspoken message that material objects are a true expression of love or perhaps it’s the whole feeling of forced obligation.  I guess it didn’t help that today was a beautiful day and I ended up wasting most of it because I slept in, sat in a car, dodged the touristy crowds at Fisherman’s Wharf, waited forever for a bus and now I’m doing nothing but waiting for an overpriced dinner that’s supposed to make me feel happy.

I’ll just be glad when the chocolates end up being discounted by 80 percent tomorrow.

Recently - and I don’t know why - I’ve been getting random phone calls from numbers that I don’t recognize. For some people, it doesn’t really matter whether or not they know who is calling; they will pick it up. Of course, as long as they are available to do so. I, on the other hand, will stare at the phone while my mind churns out the different possibilities of who is behind the mystery number.

A part of me yearns to pick up the call from the unrecognizable person or automated machine. But I resist the temptation. The main reason I attribute this somewhat strange behavior is related to the fact that my mother said to NEVER open the door to strangers. Ever. Even if it’s a girl scout. She managed to drive this message deeply into my skull by concocting ridiculously frightening scenarios.

For example:

• If you open the door a stranger will force their way in AND KILL YOU
• If you open the door a salesman will make you buy things and TAKE ALL OF YOUR MONEY
• If you open a door to a Jehovah’s witness they will make you convert AND RUIN YOUR SOUL

At any rate, much like the physical door to my home, I keep my digital doorway shut and bolted tightly.

Of course, I just can’t help but wonder about the caller, and the different possible reasons for trying to reach me on my phone. These calls don’t really bother me…until they don’t leave a voice message. Suddenly, for a split second after the rings subside, my mind reels at the possibility that I just lost the chance at gobs of money or a trip to Hawaii. Or Paris. Or the chance to meet a long-lost cousin that is a gajillionaire.

The moral of my story? Leave a voice message, and spare someone like me the momentary depths of imagined regret.

Recently, a friend of mine started reading up on healthy eating and exercise.  Since we often chat each day, he started sharing the pieces of information that he’s found from scouring the Web.  And after talking to him and following his advice … I have come to conclude that nutrition, exercise, and the general upkeep of a healthy lifestyle really really sucks.  

Okay, I understand that being active and eating well is obviously a good idea.  You look/feel better, blah blah.  But honestly, it is actually QUITE HARD to lose weight if you don’t have discipline or time.

This is what my friend told me - if you take your weight and multiply it by 13, that is technically the amount of calories you “need” to maintain.  If you’re more active, you multiply that by 14.  Ok, great.  That sounds like a respectable amount.  Then he pointed out to me that my morning cup of coffee (with two creams, since I started cutting out my packets of sugar) was MAYBE 80 calories.  That’s being conservative. If I were to burn off 80 calories - I probably have to run a mile or two.

So for every excess “cup of coffee” that I ingest past my “acceptable calorie quota” … I have to run/skip/hop/torture myself at the gym. A LOT.  And going to the gym takes a long time, from changing clothes to hopping on the machine to cleaning off the sweat and grime … and then washing said workout clothes only to lather, rinse, and repeat the cycle.  Today, it took me about two hours to get from work to workout, shower, and back.  TWO HOURS!

That’s not all.  If I want to lose weight, I obviously have to burn more calories than I eat.  I should also vary my exercises, since your body adapts.  So not only do I have to torture myself, I have to make the effort and find different ways of torturing myself. And forget trying to lose weight in certain parts of my body - I have no choice whether the thunder thighs go away or I lose the pesky little love handles.

Oh, and did I mention that certain carbs are bad for you?  So I ought to cut out white rice, pasta, potatoes, fruit that is TOO sweet, and probably just drink water and skip the flavored anythings.  

The practical side of me says that healthy eating and exercise, no matter how daunting, is what I ought to do in order to lead a hopefully long and active life.  However, the hedonistic side of me tells me that this just means I’ll lead a long and active life without any flavor or fun.

Yup.  Nutrition really, really sucks.

I’m in New York!  Hooray!  Other than the paranoia that my flight from Chicago would never leave the tarmac, things have been *knock on wood* a fairly smooth experience so far.  The only other kink is the small cold/flu developing, but I’m diligently smothering it with Emergen-C, throat drops and Sudafed.

Nothing much to really report today, other than to note with slight bitterness how ironic it is that I FINALLY have a two week vacation after a full year of work only to kick it off with a cold.  Hopefully this won’t mar the rest of the holiday season.

Oh, and on another note, I STRONGLY feel that there is quite a need for an enforcement of unspoken airline etiquette.  More on that later.  In the meantime, I’m just going to enjoy the company of familiar, close friends from the days of yore.

Peace out, yo

(Nope, still can’t pull that off)

Admittedly, I think I have a fairly addictive personality. When I watch a television show that has cliffhangers, I have a hard time turning off the tv or computer screen if I have a few more episodes left that I could watch.

When I played video games that roped me in with their storyline, I end up roaming around just a few hours longer. And, when the final book of Harry Potter came out, I curled up on the couch and my tired eyes would not stop skipping and scanning across each page, drinking in the words and waiting to read what happens next. Even after five solid hours and a whole night of no sleep, it was hard for me to put the book down.

The point of all this?

Social media.

Facebook, Twitter, email, and tens of thousands of ways that I can check statuses, updates, posts are just continual digital feed for my insatiable appetite of addiction.

At any rate, the wayward point I am trying to make is that I was checking my phone on my way home tonight when I found a link from one of the Twitter-ers that I follow in one of her tweets:

Ever get text shorthand and think what the heck is this? not anymore! http://tinyurl.com/5o61

I clicked on it. And a part of me thought it was funny, another thought it was ridiculous, and third part thought it was rather sad that people are either -

1) SO ridiculously lazy
2) haters of the English language

Of course, I get that there are text “codes” that people in other countries use. And I get, for ease of use, that messages should be succinct. But therein lies the point, people! Much like twitter, texting should be SUCCINCT, not a way to be 1) or bastardize the English language! Shakespeare and Carroll gave us deliciously wonderful words, so descriptive in even the mere way they roll off the tongue.

Now our future children will send messages like this -

omfglmaobbqroflcopteriss OOTD NW, AFAIAA, will PPL SPK NRMLY. SICNR. TBH, SSINF!

Bleh.

Don’t get me wrong. I love abbreviations. Hence, one of my favorites -

WTF!!!