Yes, two topics that have absolutely nothing to do with each other together for the first time (in structure not in any real applicable relationship).
The more kettlebell workouts I do the more I like them. Their design promotes freedom of motion and more efficient work (er, or something like that). I find it easier to learn olympic exercises in kettlebell--as supposed to barbell or dumbell--form, and they foster grip strength. Something I've been sorely lacking for a long time. The k.b. deadlift in particular I really like. In its barbell form, to really do the exercise correctly, the bar would would have to scrape against the shins...ick, but with the kettlebell you can begin the exercise with the bell between your legs. And the k.b. swing? great all around exercise. When I first saw it, I was skeptical of the cardiovascular effect, but it's there. It works best within the context of a circuit, but it allows you to develop power and cardio at the same time. My one complaint: with more sophisticated olympic lifts you have to practice positioning switching your wrist grip (the clean for example). If you don't get it right, the bell will leave a bruise on your forearm :( So I guess you could call it negative reinforcement: execute the proper form or go owie.
Lately things have been much smoother between me and girlfriend. Her mood swings still worry me, but I think I have finally assuaged her concerns over my devotion and loyalty. Her suffering breaks my heart. I dread waking her up at night, almost inevitable when I visit; I'm a night owl at heart. She sits up startled, stiff. She doesn't see me; she sees them, and she cowers in fear. It will take me 10-15 seconds to snap her out of it. She wasn't even aware that she did that until I pointed it out on her last visit.
Trauma. You'd think a person would notice that sort of behavior in themself (sp?), but when it comes to trauma we appear all to willing to assimilate the shocking, the irregular, into our mundane lives. I guess it's a variation on the banality of evil: the banality of trauma, the banality of suffering. Acknowledgment, perhaps, means recognizing the extent of one's own pain. I do not excuse myself from this. I am probably engaging in behaviors similar to my girlfriend, but I recognized hers. I suggested that she take a self-defense course or take a martial art. I told her I think it would be therapeutic. If she was prepared for the situation perhaps her immediate reaction upon waking would not be cowering. Unfortunately, as much as I want this, her attention is already divided among work, her thesis--her never ending ego devouring thesis--and the....well its something I can't talk about here yet, so I don't push the issue, I hope she'll have the freedom to take one up soon though.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
can't think of title
My sister has been hanging around. She has a fight with my mother, and is here two days later acting like nothing happened. What is the ten cent word meaning "projecting an aura of sliminess"??
GRE is the suck
Wellllllllllllll I took the GRE friday. I think my score is something of a mixed bah. 580 verbal 410 Quantitative. IF I had just one more week to study. I think I could have pulled the math score up a bit.
The only thing that is keeping me from repeating the test are my analytical writing scores. I won't know what they are for another two to four weeks. *I* thought I did pretty damn well on that section. Hell, I should being an english major and whatnot. I even got lucky. The one issue prompt I used to practice was a choice on the test. Naturally, that's the one I chose, and I had enough time leftover to make revisions to both essays. I'd like to say that I got a perfect score, but I fear jinxing myself. Since I'll be scored by human graders a subjective element is introduced to the process. There is a tiny part of me that fears I bombed them, but I keep that in check. I simply did too many things right. Aside from what I mentioned I managed to work "mawkish" and "specious" into each essay respectively. (In fact, it's pretty easy to use any ten cent words for lying or misleading on the argumentative essay) Suffice to say, if my writing scores are bad I will take the test over. If they are mediocre I will take the test over. If they are great---hmm---I dunno that's the one I'll have to ponder.
BTW My girlfriend scored a 780 on the Verbal five years ago. Can you believe that? Not only is that score beyond ivy league requirements it means she missed one question on the entire section! two tops!
The only thing that is keeping me from repeating the test are my analytical writing scores. I won't know what they are for another two to four weeks. *I* thought I did pretty damn well on that section. Hell, I should being an english major and whatnot. I even got lucky. The one issue prompt I used to practice was a choice on the test. Naturally, that's the one I chose, and I had enough time leftover to make revisions to both essays. I'd like to say that I got a perfect score, but I fear jinxing myself. Since I'll be scored by human graders a subjective element is introduced to the process. There is a tiny part of me that fears I bombed them, but I keep that in check. I simply did too many things right. Aside from what I mentioned I managed to work "mawkish" and "specious" into each essay respectively. (In fact, it's pretty easy to use any ten cent words for lying or misleading on the argumentative essay) Suffice to say, if my writing scores are bad I will take the test over. If they are mediocre I will take the test over. If they are great---hmm---I dunno that's the one I'll have to ponder.
BTW My girlfriend scored a 780 on the Verbal five years ago. Can you believe that? Not only is that score beyond ivy league requirements it means she missed one question on the entire section! two tops!
Monday, March 10, 2008
The Balloon--GRE extreme verbosity edition
Our good friend Mr. Balloon is quite the fellow. Is he valiant or merely strident? Does he have hydrogen for a soul or is he something more? I've blogged about him repeatedly, awaiting the sad moment of his death, to the casual observer or the philistine his story is prolix, him a tedious mess; he will not die. He is a dessicated body: sere and wrinkled. He keeps his shine though. His color still vivid despite his inner turmoil. Down with the critics I say! This tableau continues.
He's implacable, and his tenacity belies the short life of other plastic birthday decorations. I hope my dog lives as long as he does. I hope my girlfriend lives as long as he does; I hope I am there with her, and when her time comes I will be able to see her off without a broken heart but a tear and a smile. These are saturnine matters I write of, death and its inevitability. Blame the influence of vocabulary, blame the obvious matter of our trauma, or, you could even blame Death Cab for Cutie (I'm listening to Plans right now).
Mr. Balloon this is not a dirge, I believe there are still molecules within beligerently wailing against that puissant agent of physics, gravitiy. No, this is a panegyric, you will not need a dirge, and when the time comes no eulogy will be needed, all will have been said. I see your longevity as auspicious, the best of omens in a world dominated by the artless, but ruled by demagogues and tricksters (and horrifically enough artless demagogues. W is the paradigm. W is the ..er...searching words...um..another p word.)
I don't want to be verbose. I don't intend to erudite or donnish either. Forgive me if the meaning is lost; if this bemuses someone cheers to you, but don't write off this screed as jejune. I'm just a guy looking for goodness, and a rule, I find it exists in small places and unexpected moments. Sometimes you search, sometimes it finds you. Mr. Balloon you bring (not brought he still hovers!) goodness into my life. If karma is real, I hope you are rewarded with many approbations in the next life, but I must confess you've already achieved the highest state of consciousness I've ever seen.
He's implacable, and his tenacity belies the short life of other plastic birthday decorations. I hope my dog lives as long as he does. I hope my girlfriend lives as long as he does; I hope I am there with her, and when her time comes I will be able to see her off without a broken heart but a tear and a smile. These are saturnine matters I write of, death and its inevitability. Blame the influence of vocabulary, blame the obvious matter of our trauma, or, you could even blame Death Cab for Cutie (I'm listening to Plans right now).
Mr. Balloon this is not a dirge, I believe there are still molecules within beligerently wailing against that puissant agent of physics, gravitiy. No, this is a panegyric, you will not need a dirge, and when the time comes no eulogy will be needed, all will have been said. I see your longevity as auspicious, the best of omens in a world dominated by the artless, but ruled by demagogues and tricksters (and horrifically enough artless demagogues. W is the paradigm. W is the ..er...searching words...um..another p word.)
I don't want to be verbose. I don't intend to erudite or donnish either. Forgive me if the meaning is lost; if this bemuses someone cheers to you, but don't write off this screed as jejune. I'm just a guy looking for goodness, and a rule, I find it exists in small places and unexpected moments. Sometimes you search, sometimes it finds you. Mr. Balloon you bring (not brought he still hovers!) goodness into my life. If karma is real, I hope you are rewarded with many approbations in the next life, but I must confess you've already achieved the highest state of consciousness I've ever seen.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
It..lives...again!...and..er..again
up and down up and down I expect this process to continue for a while (for the record it is currently up) These must be death throes
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