May 7th, 2003

beartato phd

(no subject)

So friendster is not useless after all! Was looking at the gallery thing and saw a picture that looked remarkably familiar.

I could inject a tangent here about the phenomenon of knowing people that you don't know at all, which has fascinated me for quite a while. So I've noticed that in many situations where I frequent an area with lots (like, at least hundreds) of people day after day, there is often a set of people who I find incredibly known, familiar, as if they were close friends of mine, but I don't even know their names. I figure, for each one, there must be something about their appearance that makes them just a little memorable, and by the fourth or fifth time I see them as "oh, I think I've seen that face before" there's a sudden shift to them occupying an as-if permanent slot in my memory. This happened with a number of people in high school who I would never think of talking to, a considerable number of people around campus here, various panhandlers in Oakland, a particularly androgynous jogger with a really loud (color, not volume) yellow walkamn, "indignant cigar guy", "violin lady" (who, as techstep informs me, is actually a Kim, if memory serves) etc.

I wonder if this is why people go out of their way to get piercings, dye their hair, go punk, go emo, go goth, go raver, go whatever, just so that people observing them have a clique-esque hook to hang the fashion-monkey on in their memory. This being on the assumption that an effective path to being considered attractive goes through being considered familiar, identifiable, recognizable.

Anyway, getting to the point, (and, if neal were telling the story instead and I was instead listening, I'd be remiss to not smirk in my traditional hello-neal-you-are-beating-around-the-bush way and ask, "so, what's her name?") there's this cute girl I keep running into as I walk towards and from home along beeler. Knew her but didn't know her, as per the above.

But the familiar-looking photo! Turns out, after a ping successfully ponged, it was indeed her. Moderately amusing. I guess I'll actually say hi next time I see her.

Another victory for everyone's favorite substitute for real human interaction, another shattering defeat for social skill development. Woohoo!

We'll see if her stalking skills (and level of care) are up to snuff to find this very entry. I'm guardedly pessimistic.
beartato phd

(no subject)

I enjoy crazy late night conversations with housemates.

This is a special case of the general fact that I enjoy being reminded that people are fascinating, complicated things, and they try to make themselves and each other happy, and they succeed and fail, and try and despair, and the whole dance is repetitive and terrifying and beautiful. I enjoy hearing other people's stories and problems and thoughts, and seeing the variations played upon such timeless themes. I enjoy learning, and perhaps, every now and then, maybe actually having some tiny morsel of insight to offer.

Friends are a good thing to have.
beartato phd

(no subject)

I love pittsburgh-accented English. I'd swear Myron Cope himself was helping to fix the roof of our house by the sound of the shouting outside.
beartato phd

(no subject)

A wiseass man once told me, "you're a jerk!". So true.

I guess not everyone naturally feels that (a) a game of Set is the perfect thing to clear one's mind and tip the scales back in favor of sanity (b) leaving home when you have already have gotten close to ready for bed and feel physically like crap is, like, the most difficult thing ever.

Observed trend: the likelihood of me making choices that mystify and anger others goes up as my level of physical discomfort does.