In which champagne is not in the offing...
After all it's only Tuesday.
When I was but a mere pup in graduate school, OL, who I last saw at Minato Sushi at Oak and Broadway, had a project where he used acoustic transducers to examine the quality of fizzing that pop made when they were poured into a glass. If he were to do that today, he'd find a flat line, much like that made by the temperature readings of a coreless winter, a few little jigs and jags here and there, but nothing overly significant. That's right, if not already obvious, there's very little fizz, sparkle or bubble in the day.
Just ran into Dr. Mixed Antibodies, in the days that people isolated their own antibodies, who agreed with me that after a while projects become stale and you have to find time to refresh your mind, come up with new ideas and generally be all sparkly and bubbly again like fresh, good, rare, vintage champagne. The quality of bubbles are different when it's good champagne - CF said so, and what CF says, I agree for she is always right, and if she's not, she just waves the corrections away and says "Pouf!"
Anyway, I want time off to let the mind wander and dream a little. I find it hard to remember that it's part of my job to dream and let the mind wander. Recently, we've all been a bit too engrossed in the results of competitions past and it's been depressing and so we go back and make incremental improvements when what's needed are brave new steps, audacious enough to take away the breath of reviewers. Ironically enough in order to think these ideas up, I have to stop thinking about them and do something else.
But what? I want new challenges - physical, emotional and mental but in a good way please. Maybe it's time to start climbing walls. Or saying unforgivable things to people. Or something. Anything.
Neolithic Pagan Expression: Last night, I had a vision wherein a wasabi-cream pie with a crust made of crushed apricot pits was ground into the smug anonymous faces belonging to people who don't bother to read properly. It was a powerful statement of the oppressed rising up and giving the oppressor the finger. Did I mention too that the eyes and nostrils of the smug faces were held open by tiny bulldog clips? Did you know too that apricot pits have arsenic in them? In fact, there was a student who had an entire jar of crushed apricot pits when she was studying for her A-levels; the plan was to mix the powder with water and drink it down if she didn't get her 2As and 1B (minimum for going to the university of her choice). Unfortunately, the pits became mouldy but fortunately, she got 3As.
Parallels: It's interesting what time will do to friendships. In the main, the links you make are ground down, and much like crushed apricot pits, become crusty, are laden with low levels of toxic feelings and the occasional prod of remorse. This thought runs alongside visions of of wasabi cream pies, stopping thought and doing something else. By all means do what is expected, have high standards, be generous and open, just don't expect returns - in fact the trouble starts at precisely the moment you expect anything.
It would behove me to be
I don't suppose it really matters in the end for GUP rules are in place - at least for me, and if not for you, well how nice - now move out of my way.
Well. That was a pointless exposition - this is the trouble with thinking seemingly profound thoughts when taking a shower and then not remembering exactly why they seemed so profound at the time. I shall go consume great quantities of butter, white refined flour, white very refined sugar and extremely well-refined chocolate. See if I don't.
Standards. Ha. Don't make me laugh.
(*)Sebenarnya, kehidupan ini memang begitu susah.