When I was younger I always heard my dad say that life is simple, we are the ones who complicate it. As I grow older I can appreciate that statement more and more with each passing day. We entangle ourselves in our own webs that we forget where/why we started what we started in the first place. This is my first step in untangling myself from the web of life’s miseries in the hope that it’ll make my life a dash simpler.
1. Even though I was never a very good student, I am glad for the education that I have received
2. Instead of hating my job, I am going to try to be thankful for a source of income that allows me to be able to fend for myself and my family
3. Instead of cursing my old car for its low MPG, and I am glad that I could afford four wheels
4. Instead of brooding over what others think of my decisions, I am going to take a stand
5. Thank God for The godfather
6. Finally, I thank ABBA for the music!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
My new found low tolerance
I am extremely sensitive to phenomena that shift my entropy. Thanks to Sadi Carnot, my life is a meaningless amalgamation of stochastic events and I certainly don’t need clusters of seemingly highly evolved coordinated networks of organic molecules wrapped in two layers fat to perturb my equilibrium because they can’t keep up with the universe’s ever increasing entropy. All I am saying is that I have a low tolerance for certain people in my life who blame the rest of the world for all their woes. You know who I am talking about - responsibility dodgers, people with a superiority complex, people with an inferiority complex that is manifested as a superiority complex, spoilsports, sadists, spineless maggots, people who are passive aggressive and generally high maintenance. Here are some things that I’d like to say to them but I probably never will lest it should catalyze my already increasing entropy!
1. The world does not revolve around you
2. The world is not out to get you – it doesn’t care enough
3. Your opinion will NEVER be the only one that counts
4. Don’t ever say any thing about someone behind their back that you wouldn’t have the courage to say to their face
5. Shove your fakeness up your a** because the world can see right through it
And last but not the least:
6. GET A LIFE!!!
1. The world does not revolve around you
2. The world is not out to get you – it doesn’t care enough
3. Your opinion will NEVER be the only one that counts
4. Don’t ever say any thing about someone behind their back that you wouldn’t have the courage to say to their face
5. Shove your fakeness up your a** because the world can see right through it
And last but not the least:
6. GET A LIFE!!!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
With friends like these…
If I had a choice between picking a ball-busting criticizer (who gives both positive [although not as often] and negative criticism) and a soppy pep-talker for a friend who would I pick? Well I’ve already picked. I picked not one but two ball-busting criticizers. Am I offending them? Trust me, I am not. When I whine about having gained a few pounds over the holiday season they smack me on the head and tell me to go to the gym instead of sympathizing with me and offering to be my weight-watchers buddy. Don’t get me wrong, they listen to me for hours at a time when I bitch about my life, but even before the moment is gone we are already thinking of ways to sticking it to the man. And that’s what we all need, a partner in crime, not a boring therapist for a friend (no offense intended). The world doesn’t pat you on the back for trying your very best when you come 2nd in the race that is life. Why should a friend be any different? They shouldn’t. The only difference is that a real friend will support you 100% when you train whereas the rest of the world will try to come up with ways to put you down. Your friend will shield you from the world when it’s demoralizing you, but when the moment is over my friends take it a step further and smack me on the head for not being prepared! And that what we all need. Someone you can trust, someone who will look out for you but won’t let you be a wuss.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Saved by my timer
There seem to be certain immutable characteristics in PhD mentors. The penetrance and expressivity of these characteristics somewhat vary, although the deviation is not statistically significant.
The concept of time: They magically seem to forget how long it takes to perform a certain experiment and appear flabbergasted when you are unable to present the results to them in half the time that it takes to do it. Yet, somehow they think that you spent an eternity when in reality you spent five extra minutes at lunch because the damn vending machine ate all your dollar bills and you were unsuccessfully trying to salvage them.
Quality of results: Some times they become so excited about testing a certain hypothesis that they don’t care if the experiment is carefully designed and executed – they don’t care if all the controls have been included, they just want to see the results. And somehow at the end of three sleepless nights and days (coz you were already performing five experiments simultaneously) you get blamed for performing the experiment sloppily.
Level of independence: They expect you to design your own project. When you do, you get blamed for not consulting with them. Then when you consult with them, they accuse you of being too dependant. Then when you start working on your own again, they claim that you have become cold and sore and suggest that you check your personal baggage at the door. Yeah, I got that memo a long time ago; I leave my baggage, pride AND self-respect at the door before entering your lab.
Comparing mentorship skills: I start rolling my eyes and fidgeting with the timer clipped to my belt when I hear the words “when I was a graduate student...”. If only I had a penny for every time I heard those words! They always claim that they are not as mean to us as their mentors have been to them (I call it the mother-in-law phenotype because every mean mother-in-law claims that her’s was much worse). So I am supposed to be happy that I have a cynical mentor, because it could have been much worse… my mentor could have been cynical and anti-social.
The good thing about carrying a timer with you at all times is that when your mentor begins their epic spiel you can set your timer to say… oh, three minutes, and when it beeps you can excuse yourself with the claim that you need to attend to something that can’t wait. You can spice it up by saying that you are doing the experiment that they SMSed you about at 2 AM last night.
In their defense, mentors aren’t all that bad. For one, if you have a good sense of humor you will have plenty of stories to tell about them at parties, at the bar, or even to your grand children. Secondly, they really do mean well (as difficult as it may be for some of us to believe it). They really do take pride in their students and genuinely want to see them succeed. They have lived in their small bubble for so long, and put their heart and soul, sweat and blood, determination and perseverance into their science that they have, well, lost all their common sense! They have become dysfunctional mad scientists. But they really do mean well.
Any way, my timer is really beeping now. So until next time, auf wiedersehen.
The concept of time: They magically seem to forget how long it takes to perform a certain experiment and appear flabbergasted when you are unable to present the results to them in half the time that it takes to do it. Yet, somehow they think that you spent an eternity when in reality you spent five extra minutes at lunch because the damn vending machine ate all your dollar bills and you were unsuccessfully trying to salvage them.
Quality of results: Some times they become so excited about testing a certain hypothesis that they don’t care if the experiment is carefully designed and executed – they don’t care if all the controls have been included, they just want to see the results. And somehow at the end of three sleepless nights and days (coz you were already performing five experiments simultaneously) you get blamed for performing the experiment sloppily.
Level of independence: They expect you to design your own project. When you do, you get blamed for not consulting with them. Then when you consult with them, they accuse you of being too dependant. Then when you start working on your own again, they claim that you have become cold and sore and suggest that you check your personal baggage at the door. Yeah, I got that memo a long time ago; I leave my baggage, pride AND self-respect at the door before entering your lab.
Comparing mentorship skills: I start rolling my eyes and fidgeting with the timer clipped to my belt when I hear the words “when I was a graduate student...”. If only I had a penny for every time I heard those words! They always claim that they are not as mean to us as their mentors have been to them (I call it the mother-in-law phenotype because every mean mother-in-law claims that her’s was much worse). So I am supposed to be happy that I have a cynical mentor, because it could have been much worse… my mentor could have been cynical and anti-social.
The good thing about carrying a timer with you at all times is that when your mentor begins their epic spiel you can set your timer to say… oh, three minutes, and when it beeps you can excuse yourself with the claim that you need to attend to something that can’t wait. You can spice it up by saying that you are doing the experiment that they SMSed you about at 2 AM last night.
In their defense, mentors aren’t all that bad. For one, if you have a good sense of humor you will have plenty of stories to tell about them at parties, at the bar, or even to your grand children. Secondly, they really do mean well (as difficult as it may be for some of us to believe it). They really do take pride in their students and genuinely want to see them succeed. They have lived in their small bubble for so long, and put their heart and soul, sweat and blood, determination and perseverance into their science that they have, well, lost all their common sense! They have become dysfunctional mad scientists. But they really do mean well.
Any way, my timer is really beeping now. So until next time, auf wiedersehen.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Pet advertising peeves
There are a lot of things about advertisements that tick me off . Here are just a few of my worst peeves. Commercial that advertises weight loss pills, age defying lotions/creams/powders/sprays. Let break it down shall we?
Hello??? Popping pills will NEVER completely solve anyone’s weight issues. That’s the truth. Every paid close attention to the before and after pictures in these ads? Two major flaws – 1. The ‘after’ picture always shows 6 pack abs. If these pills DID (miraculously) work then the person who lost weight will have flabby skin. They’ll be lucky if they looked toned let alone flaunt 6 pack abs; 2. Notice the face: it’s always the same chubby face in both pictures, only the body has changed. Gosh! How did that happen? Welcome to the world of Photoshop.
If there really was a way to decelerate ageing, trust me, nature would have evolved a gene for it millions of years ago! Wrinkles, large pores, sagging skin, age related skin pigmentation – there is no permanent solution to any of these ‘problems’.
The only message that these advertisements convey is their definition of beauty – a slim body, flawless fair skin. Well who made them the beauty police?
I like to be not poked by bones when I hug my friends; I love the little wrinkles by my mother’s eyes when she smiles.
If you are genetically predisposed to being obese, or have progeria it is indeed a sad situation and I could understand one’s quest to improve their appearance. But these products won’t help you anyway! And as for all you others - stop wasting you money on these worthless pieces of junk. Instead spend the money on a gym membership and fresh fruits and vegetables. Live healthy, the endorphins will make you happy. (now there's a drug we could all use)
And remember – you are ALL beautiful.
Hello??? Popping pills will NEVER completely solve anyone’s weight issues. That’s the truth. Every paid close attention to the before and after pictures in these ads? Two major flaws – 1. The ‘after’ picture always shows 6 pack abs. If these pills DID (miraculously) work then the person who lost weight will have flabby skin. They’ll be lucky if they looked toned let alone flaunt 6 pack abs; 2. Notice the face: it’s always the same chubby face in both pictures, only the body has changed. Gosh! How did that happen? Welcome to the world of Photoshop.
If there really was a way to decelerate ageing, trust me, nature would have evolved a gene for it millions of years ago! Wrinkles, large pores, sagging skin, age related skin pigmentation – there is no permanent solution to any of these ‘problems’.
The only message that these advertisements convey is their definition of beauty – a slim body, flawless fair skin. Well who made them the beauty police?
I like to be not poked by bones when I hug my friends; I love the little wrinkles by my mother’s eyes when she smiles.
If you are genetically predisposed to being obese, or have progeria it is indeed a sad situation and I could understand one’s quest to improve their appearance. But these products won’t help you anyway! And as for all you others - stop wasting you money on these worthless pieces of junk. Instead spend the money on a gym membership and fresh fruits and vegetables. Live healthy, the endorphins will make you happy. (now there's a drug we could all use)
And remember – you are ALL beautiful.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Unfinished business / food for thought
Self effacing timidity v/s arrogant pride: If someone mocked the fundamental principles you lay for yourself in life, what would you do? Would you be the bigger person and turn the other cheek or dislocate your offender’s jaw? I really don’t believe in an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I also believe that people don’t understand what they do to others until it is done unto them (to reverse the old saying). So, how would you non-violently teach your reprobate a lesson they’ll never forget?
Morality: I walk in to my grocery store religiously once every two weeks, and just as religiously I am greeted at the door by a little old lady who says “Welcome to Uncle Jack’s”. Sweet old woman, probably in her late 60s, stands at the door day in and day out. Her only job at the store is to greet the customers coming into / leaving the store. Chains of stores may call it ‘adding a personal touch’ or ‘making you feel at home while you shop with us’, but tell me something, if you were hosting a Christmas party at your home (irrespective of which hemisphere your home is in), would you put your little old grandma on a rocking chair on the front porch greeting the guests as they come in?
Ironies in life: Ever wondered how it all fits? At age three, you throw a fit when your father drives you to the pool to for swimming lessons. Fifteen years later your lessons earns you a scholarship to college. At age 10 you yell at your mother because she used the wrong setting on the iron for your favorite shirt. Eight years later in a college dorm you don’t understand how a tiny little red sock turned the entire load of white laundry pink.
The intention is not to portray an image of profoundness. These are just some random thought penned down before they dissipate into oblivion. Unfinished business or food for thought? You pick
Morality: I walk in to my grocery store religiously once every two weeks, and just as religiously I am greeted at the door by a little old lady who says “Welcome to Uncle Jack’s”. Sweet old woman, probably in her late 60s, stands at the door day in and day out. Her only job at the store is to greet the customers coming into / leaving the store. Chains of stores may call it ‘adding a personal touch’ or ‘making you feel at home while you shop with us’, but tell me something, if you were hosting a Christmas party at your home (irrespective of which hemisphere your home is in), would you put your little old grandma on a rocking chair on the front porch greeting the guests as they come in?
Ironies in life: Ever wondered how it all fits? At age three, you throw a fit when your father drives you to the pool to for swimming lessons. Fifteen years later your lessons earns you a scholarship to college. At age 10 you yell at your mother because she used the wrong setting on the iron for your favorite shirt. Eight years later in a college dorm you don’t understand how a tiny little red sock turned the entire load of white laundry pink.
The intention is not to portray an image of profoundness. These are just some random thought penned down before they dissipate into oblivion. Unfinished business or food for thought? You pick
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)