As far as writing goes, I find that it’s all about getting that first sentence down. That’s the hard part. From there, you’ve at least got material to work with. Now that THAT self-serving business is out of the way….it’s finally time to talk hallucinogens. Happy Sunday everyone!
I was watching a Netflix special yesterday called “The Science of Sex Appeal.” In this, they shared how science is responsible for all the “choices” we make in finding a partner. It made the assertion many times that we really DON’T have a choice in the matter. Our brains are programmed to like certain things that are indicators of fertility and/or producing healthy offspring. This is very interesting theory to me, especially the bit about how facial symmetry is preferred in both sexes as well as more feminine features and voice and vice versa. There was also a bit about the golden ratio of a women’s hips and waist being like the main thing of being desirable. I measured my hips and waist to see what kind of material I was working in and I’m not saying that my hips have ruined my love life, but they probably haven’t really been much of a wingman.
There was also a terrible bit of this experimentation on the show where men and women got into neutral attire and “chose” each other. They also had numbers on their forehead denoting how attractive they were for the potential partner to evaluate and then decide whether they could do better than a 2 or a 5. It was like watching a Battle Royale for emotions, and it got me to thinking what kind of criteria I’m using to go about picking my dates. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m probably doing something very wrong; essentially just giving evolution the finger.
I’m not actively seeking out the bad genes or anything like that. The first date 20 questions I go by isn’t asking if they have a drug-addled history or probing for weak bone structure, but usually the answer is yes for the guys I find myself attracted to. Maybe it’s just a fact that most of the guys my age have had some kind of entanglement with illicit drugs but is that really the case? I’ve no frame of reference. Since college, the guys I’ve dated have all had an affinity for drugs ranging from marijuana to cocaine. Luckily, most of them had moved through the drug phase and were nursing the hole it had left since the absense with “way too much booze*.” For someone who is relatively straight-edge with only enjoying A beer maybe once a month, this is a conudrum how I find myself attracted to these people who usually tote a carefree (slightly irresponsible) lifestyle with these demons-in-process they are excising. The last long term relationship I was in was also with a man with type I diabetes. That’s not all too common folks.What is my brain searching for when it gives a guy the up and down elevator look and says, yes, walk my way please.
*this is a scientific unit of measurement equivalent to being “thigh-deep” in liquid mood enhancer/depressors
On a less terse note, I also like guys with long hair, glasses, good grammar, big brains, and interests in comic books, movies, literature and music. Extra points if you play a musical instrument and have dabbled in Buddhism. (That’s apparently my thing too) If you like to write, and do it well, please apply today!
Another happening of yesterday was the odd phenomena that seems to be reoccuring more and more in this small town that harbors dreams of being much larger. There is this group of people that has taken to a section of overpass near our local mall and they are toting signs in the vein of supporting impeachment of our President of the U.S. Woo, for using freedom of speech to spread your message of hate, no. 1. No. 2, do these people realize that there is actually a process for impeachment and it really can’t be done for willy-nilly reasons like not liking a person or the policies they inact through perfectly legitimate means within the governing body? I’m not attempting to get political here because honestly I have not read up enough about Obamacare or whatnot to have a real opinion of its pros and cons. (And I’m probably not going to get around to it either) I’m just saying…maybe these overpass people are on hallucinogens…or maybe they should be? Just a thought.
Here’s another one for you. Maybe I’m not as feminine as the male population prefers their women to be (whatever) and so I had no idea that people actually go to the salon for purposes other than getting their nails done or a hair-do (don’t). But they do! Salons offer all kinds of extra features, and one of these is eyebrow control. This intrigues me. Apparently, they just put some kind of adhesive on a paper substance, place it on the area where hair-removal is desired, in this case right between your eyes, and then they just rip the sticky paper from the area and the hair comes along for the ride. Then you pay the person who ripped hair from your face $10. Uncanny. I asked the person describing this process to me, what the difference in me using duct tape to produce the same results would be. This is too much of a mystery perhaps, becuase the answer was not forthcoming.
While this is proabably more than enough mystery to handle for the day, there’s one more I’ll leave you with. I listen to the Welcome to Night Vale podcast, and I highly reccomend it. If I was a richer and better person I would donate to their endeavor and support them this way. As it is, I have to promote them via my lowly blog. Now, this podcast is a bit silly at times and embellished in a ridiculous manner quite often, but also there’s good writing there. It’s funny and they make good points on serious matters when you are not expecting it. One such point was made by Cecil Baldwin in the Memory of Europe episode was on nostalgia. I’ve been writing a series of sometimes insightful vignettes on the topic of nostlgia and how it can really twist the emotions. To this effect, Cecil says nostalgia is not actually missing what we had but missing what we didn’t have. I think this is absolutely true. We miss the way we wish things were or the moments we wish developed out of the good foundation we had at one point. The relationship didn’t end in matrimonial happiness but perhaps the potential was there and we pine for that. Yet, as he goes on to note, it didn’t, and like wax dripping from a lit taper, the unformed moments of hot wax had that potential to form into something unexpected and wonderful, but they only formed into the shape of cold, dripped wax once they fall to the table top. We’ve got to remind ourselves when we get a pang of sad-variety nostalgia that if it really was that great in our memory, then it would have worked to hold itself together.
Ah, philosophy under the direction of caffiene. We didn’t talk about hallucinations as much as was perhaps desirable, but the good news is the cache isn’t dry enough to subject you to the vignettes yet. Don’t touch that dial!
-Anna R. Kotopple