the sexual tension when u and ur crush are online on fb at the same time and u just stare at their lil green dot
and suddenly you know what gatsby felt like
This is actually the most profound and appropriate literary allusion I’ve encountered so far this week.
The Seven Shittiest Sins
- Greed: I want shit
- Envy: I want your shit
- Wrath: I'm going to wreck your shit
- Lust: I'm into some freaky shit
- Gluttony: This is some tasty shit
- Sloth: I don't feel like doing shit
- Pride: I am the shit
names for my hypothetical daughters
Roxane. After Roxane in Cyrano de Bergerac and Roxana, queen of Alexander the Great. Roxane was smart, witty, passionate, brave, and - very importantly - a sapiosexual. She may have fallen in love with Christian at first for his face, but she actually fell in love with Cyrano for his brains and passion (not her fault that they duped her horribly). And she had the sense to transfer her love to Cyrano when she found out the truth.
Roxana because I love Ancient Greek history, her name sounds like Roxane’s, she was supposedly the most beautiful woman in all of Asia (I’m shallow like that), and she promptly murdered Alexander’s other wife after he died (a bit of ruthlessness can’t hurt).
Valentina. After the first woman in space, who’s still a iconic figure in Russia today. Valentina also apparently means strong? When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut (also ballet dancer, actress, paleontologist or Egyptologist)m until I realized that myopia automatically excludes you. I still love the idea of flying though, and Valentina Tereshkova was also a skydiver, which I’ve been trying to do since I started college.
Anaïs. Nin, of course. I haven’t actually gotten around to reading her stuff yet, but her wonderfully bohemian life story fascinates me. Also no one in Singapore would be able to pronounce her name.
These women are/were strong, brave, intelligent and unique, qualities that I’d want my daughters to have. (Oddly enough I haven’t given much thought to names for hypothetical sons: maybe because the qualities I want my daughters to have are the same qualities I want for myself, whereas guys schmuys whatevs).
But I’m not having daughters. Or sons. Because kids are annoying, crying, needy, demanding, bags of poop that’ll force you to change your entire life by focusing on them rather than yourself, while the only reward you get is to have them “hate you only sometimes”. Thanks but no thanks.
outliers: a summary review
I’ve just finished reading outliers, and I can’t shake that niggling sense of discomfort that’s persisted throughout the entire book. I can’t tell if it’s due to what seem like logic fallacies and over generalizations, or if its just my brain automatically rejecting something that’s antithetical to my current mindset and dismissing it as fallacies. I’ll probably need to go and re-read the book again, circle all the dubious points, read the actual studies that he refers to (in really broad sweeping pithy statements), then draw my own conclusions. In the mean time, point form! summary of what I can remember, and what it means to me personally.
* You need to be lucky to be outstanding: lucky in when you’re born, what you’re born into, where you’re born, and what opportunities you’re given. Just having a high IQ isn’t enough.
*Everyone needs at least 10,000 hours to master a skill, no matter how smart you are (did this apply to Lagan and calculus?). Ergo, I need to start carrying my camera around a lot more; that’s why language immersion programmes work so well; I’m a past master at Facebook and reading Harry Potter fanfiction; not going to master much else.
*Plane crashes happen because of rigid hierarchical social structures
*Asians are good at math because their ancestors planted rice and had logical easy names for numbers and fractions. And everyone can do math if they put in enough time and effort. -snort-
*A culture of honour means getting angry at insults and shooting people for it; the south is the south because of goatherds living in the mountains.
*And of course, the famous: if you’re born in the later half of the year, forget about becoming a professional athlete.
Stop Catcalling Me (via albinwonderland)
This is a fantastically clear and salient account of extremely confusing experiences which I have never been able to accurately verbalise. Amazing.