My blogging suddenly came to a halt after my last post on September 11th, over two weeks ago. I wish I could say I had some decent excuse like, I was diagnosed with carpel tunnel syndrome…I was discovered and had to move my life to Hollywood…I was too busy finding the cure for the common cold. But, no.
The reality of the matter is that when school starts, I tend to have a one-track mind. I’m going to try and be better about this in the future. In fact, it’s on a list of things I’m trying to be more conscious of, in an effort to stop feeling guilty and unproductive… Either way, it’s that same old tune, “You are your own worst enemy.” Blah, blah, blah.
But, it’s Friday. And I think we all deserve to take it a little easy on ourselves. If Sunday is supposed to be the day of rest, (which is completely untrue for me and everyone else I know) then let Friday be the day of elation. Let go of your worries, your To-Do lists, and your overreaching goals. Do as Epicurus did (this philosophy class is really paying off), and set your aims a little lower today. ‘Cause the man said, if you set your sights low…you’re going to be really pleased when something surprisingly good happens. Amen.
Being that it is September 11th, I thought it appropriate to reflect. I could ponder over the state of affairs in Chechnya (not great), scientific discoveries (a species of fish with two sets of jaws…so sci-fi), or the current book I’m reading at work (How I Became Stupid by Martin Page). Instead though, I think I’ll look at life in my apartment.
Yesterday evening went a little something like this:
Montana: I need a title for my paper.
(The paper is about a book on love. I haven’t read said book, but was told it was quote, “sappy.”)
Me: Love hurts.
Me: All you need is love.
(Clearly, not putting much effort into being creative. For that, Montana…I apologize.)
Me: Uuuummm, Love is blind.
Me: Love makes the world go ’round.
(I’m sitting on the couch, getting ready to watch Ugly Betty again on abc.com. )
Montana: Before you watch that, listen to this.
Me: Listen to what?
Montana: My inspiration for the title of my finished paper.
Me: I don’t want to. I just want to watch Ugly Betty.
Montana: No! Listen, it’s a classic.
(At this point in time, “What’s Love Got to Do With It” by Tina Turner is turned on full blast.)
Me: I don’t want to listen this. I’m putting in my head phones.
(Ugly Betty starts to play on the screen. I watch for a minute, and then proceed to take off my headphones.)
Me: Hey, can you please turn that down. I can still hear it.
Also, I thought it would be clever to title this post with some love quote I found on the Internet. Fortunately, or unfortunately…this did not happen. However, I still wanted to share what Danielle (I don’t actually know this person) posted on www.best-love-poems.com: “I love you. 3 words. 2 people. 1 meaning.” Aww. Reflect on that.
Today I learned about technology and information. Particularly, about the storage of information. The hugely, gross number referring to precisely how much information produced each year is roughly 5,426,903 terabytes. That probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but it’s a lot. And to borrow from my professor’s notes: if someone were to read one book every week from the Library of Congress, it would take them 365, 385 years to read every one, which…unless they’re drinking from the magical fountain of youth, is just not going to happen. So then I think about these numbers, and the amount of information available, and how little I truly know. And yea, I’m taking philosophy; so I’m really considering the whole idea of a life filled with contemplation and knowledge and virtue…and all that other stuff. Thank you Aristotle. And my pee-wee brain is going, “Don’t you just want to go check out what’s new on Jezebel.com, instead of reading Theories of Intrastate and Interstate War?” Well, yea. I do.
So now I’m chewing over a life of pleasure versus a life of knowledge. Which I’ve been told, is just excessive. I’m still a good person. I still care about the world. I’m still going to read Concepts of Peace and Violence. It’s just that I’m going to take a break every ten or so pages and update myself on where Anna Wintour was just seen, why Ben Affleck looks like he’s wearing blush, and how journalist, Jody Paterson quit her job to become-gasp!-a madam at a co-op brothel (thank you, thank you Jezebel).
Bottom line: I have senioritis (also, Wikipedia…you’re not so bad yourself). It’s not fatal, but it is making my attention span sort of equivalent to that of a particular, skinny, female celebrity on speed. So as I take down a spoonful of sugar, here’s to hoping it passes!