4.13.2008
moving blog location
I'm heading over to Wordpress to try that out for a while, mostly because they have several new feature that I'm interested in using. Come follow me there! http://cianna.wordpress.com
4.12.2008
Following up: Arnel's 1st concert
For those of you who read my earlier post about Arnel Pineda getting picked up by Journey, I thought you should check out the video of his first concert with the band.
4.05.2008
Do zombies' hearts keep beating?
This has been zombie week in my world. Last Saturday I went out to a Zombie Birthday Pary (Celebrating 34 years of being alive! That's 34 years of being undead!). Then on Wednesday, I learn through Twitter and various podcasts that it's Zombie Preparedness Awareness Day, a day to review your plans and supplies to ensure you're prepared for the inevitable zombie attack. And last night we went to see a zombie movie at the Parkway. It wasn't great, but it was a nice bookend to my week.
All this undead energy around me took over my shower thoughts this morning, centered around the question: Do zombies' hearts keep beating? I would have to guess, "No," based on the fact that zombies, when torn apart, do gush blood. (The fact that humans use the fact that they can detect a heartbeat to declare that someone is still alive was ruled out as additional evidence because humans, when faced with the threat of having their brains eaten, are not known for clear and methodical thinking.) On the other hand, another defining characteristic of zombies is their ashen appearance, which can be expected to result from a lack of blood in surface capillaries, blood which would normally be pumped into that area by a beating heart.
Let's examine this second possibility a little more deeply: If the undead heart were to stop beating, then the blood would no longer be circulating, but would remain in the body until some outlet was created (e.g., the removal of a limb, a gunshot inexplicably aimed at the heart when we all know you kill zombies by shooting them in head). Zombies are not immune to gravity, so it seems to me that the blood would pool in their lower extremities. This may help to explain the dragging walk and the "lifeless" hand (actually just quite heavy now with all that extra liquid). If this is correct, then our cinematic representations of zombies really should more accurately reflect the corporal distortion which can be expected to result from this, namely very fat hands and feet -- almost clown-like, really, in their ballooned out state.
Of course, I am willing to entertain the possibility that the heart simply re-starts (after death) pumping at a super slow rate, thereby continuing to bring blood to the limbs to keep them animated, but not at a rate strong enough to drive the blood into the smallest regions of the vascular system.
None of this helps me understand the phenomena or appearance of fast zombies. They're just simply freaky and the creatures against which we must most strongly fortify ourselves.
All this undead energy around me took over my shower thoughts this morning, centered around the question: Do zombies' hearts keep beating? I would have to guess, "No," based on the fact that zombies, when torn apart, do gush blood. (The fact that humans use the fact that they can detect a heartbeat to declare that someone is still alive was ruled out as additional evidence because humans, when faced with the threat of having their brains eaten, are not known for clear and methodical thinking.) On the other hand, another defining characteristic of zombies is their ashen appearance, which can be expected to result from a lack of blood in surface capillaries, blood which would normally be pumped into that area by a beating heart.
Let's examine this second possibility a little more deeply: If the undead heart were to stop beating, then the blood would no longer be circulating, but would remain in the body until some outlet was created (e.g., the removal of a limb, a gunshot inexplicably aimed at the heart when we all know you kill zombies by shooting them in head). Zombies are not immune to gravity, so it seems to me that the blood would pool in their lower extremities. This may help to explain the dragging walk and the "lifeless" hand (actually just quite heavy now with all that extra liquid). If this is correct, then our cinematic representations of zombies really should more accurately reflect the corporal distortion which can be expected to result from this, namely very fat hands and feet -- almost clown-like, really, in their ballooned out state.
Of course, I am willing to entertain the possibility that the heart simply re-starts (after death) pumping at a super slow rate, thereby continuing to bring blood to the limbs to keep them animated, but not at a rate strong enough to drive the blood into the smallest regions of the vascular system.
None of this helps me understand the phenomena or appearance of fast zombies. They're just simply freaky and the creatures against which we must most strongly fortify ourselves.
3.29.2008
New Blog - co-created with Cyan
If you don't know Cyan, then your world is not yet as bright as it will be once you've met her. I am honored and more than a little psyched that she has decided to start a new site & blog featuring the two of us, the Sexiest Geeks Alive. Andrew Mager joined in and helped design it to kick it off. It's a place for us to celebrate the sexy geeks of the world, and also to blog randomly about our ideas. Come check it out. I'm very very (did I mention VERY?) excited about it.
3.24.2008
I wonder and will never know
Three days ago it was my mother's birthday. Or, more precisely, it would have been.
Today when I went out for lunch I overheard a very intense (and supportive) conversation between a mother and her daughter about the daughter's difficulties with her boyfriend. I pictured myself in that conversation with my mother and wondered if I would have had that kind of open talk with her, if I would have sought out her advice.
A few minutes later, I realized with a surprise that I'm only a handful of years away from the real possibility that I could have been the mother in that conversation had I stayed in one particular relationship and had children as my partner desired.
I walked home increasingly thoughtful, bordering on despondent, considering how I have been cut out/have cut myself out of a relationship which so many around me herald as one of the most important in their lives: between mother and daughter. I know it's not everything, and I am not knocking the relationship I have with my Dad, but I hear that it's different and it makes me wonder.
Today when I went out for lunch I overheard a very intense (and supportive) conversation between a mother and her daughter about the daughter's difficulties with her boyfriend. I pictured myself in that conversation with my mother and wondered if I would have had that kind of open talk with her, if I would have sought out her advice.
A few minutes later, I realized with a surprise that I'm only a handful of years away from the real possibility that I could have been the mother in that conversation had I stayed in one particular relationship and had children as my partner desired.
I walked home increasingly thoughtful, bordering on despondent, considering how I have been cut out/have cut myself out of a relationship which so many around me herald as one of the most important in their lives: between mother and daughter. I know it's not everything, and I am not knocking the relationship I have with my Dad, but I hear that it's different and it makes me wonder.
3.21.2008
small act, big reaction
This morning I needed a little jolt to get me started so I stopped by Peet's. Ahead of me in line was a man in his late 50s/early 60s. He had stooped shoulders under his outdoorsy jacket, was slightly balding, and gave an impression of trying not to take up too much space. As we moved closer to the registers, he was peering intently at the pastries, carefully considering his options. I looked into the case and noticed that there were two pieces of banana nut bread left, my morning snack of choice there. The man stepped up and, in a notably quiet voice, ordered one slice of it and tea. I was called to the other register and placed my order (thinking "that's the last slice!") and coffee. Our two cashiers disappeared for a moment, kneeling behind the low case to reach into the bottom shelf. I was handed my order and while waiting for my change I heard the man's register girl apologize to him, saying "I dropped the last piece of banana nut bread. Would you like something else?" The man looked confused and started to look again into the case. I offered my slice back to his cashier saying, "He ordered it first. Take this and I can get something else." My cashier heard me right away, but it took a few moments for the other folks to catch the man's attention so he would turn around. By then another Peet's staff person had joined in and a couple of people in line had also become involved. The guy at my register said my action was "a customer of the year thing to do!" and everyone seemed really surprised.
It was such a small act on my part, but I was struck by the reaction it caused. I confess that I enjoyed breaking up the rhythm of the order/pay/order/pay that is the mark of busy coffee shop efficiency. I also liked making a few people smile. I thought how different it would be if we would all do little kindnesses like this every day. I saw it as an opportunity that I couldn't pass up.
I was joined at the milk bar by the man who asked me shyly, "What did you end up getting?" I told him, "A rasberry scone. They're really good, too." He smiled at me. I returned the smile and said, "Have a great rest of your day!" And I really meant it.
It was such a small act on my part, but I was struck by the reaction it caused. I confess that I enjoyed breaking up the rhythm of the order/pay/order/pay that is the mark of busy coffee shop efficiency. I also liked making a few people smile. I thought how different it would be if we would all do little kindnesses like this every day. I saw it as an opportunity that I couldn't pass up.
I was joined at the milk bar by the man who asked me shyly, "What did you end up getting?" I told him, "A rasberry scone. They're really good, too." He smiled at me. I returned the smile and said, "Have a great rest of your day!" And I really meant it.
3.03.2008
Nerdcore For Life Trailer
This is a film I'm eager to see! I'm in a real nerd love moment right now!
1.09.2008
Breaking Points
I don't know if, as I get older, it's because I have more to compare things to or because I'm simply getting less tolerant, but it seems that I am bumping up against my breaking points more frequently. There are certain behaviors which I find I will not tolerate. I find that I'm able to see them earlier on and catch them before they do real damage. Not all, not all, but more with each passing year. Maybe in the past I was more able to let them roll off my back... Actually I know that the truth is really that, more often than not, I didn't stand up for myself and what I wanted. (There are oh so many reasons for my considering my own needs subservient to others' needs or to the desire to maintain equilibrium but I really don't feel like going into them right now.) Things are changing as I get more confidence and am less willing to waste time. I am no longer so afraid of confrontation -- particularly after I started to realize that the short term pain of tackling issues head-on will be often be far less damaging than the slow drip of resentment eating away at the core of a relationship like the ooze of an acid leak.
People think I'm direct. I know I still have a long way to go before I am actually expressing all that I need to say -- but I will acknowledge that I'm doing better. I will always feel others' feelings and hate it when I'm the source of hurt or resentment. This sometimes causes me to delay saying something that I'm sure another doesn't want to hear -- but I'm learning that in the end I will say what needs to be said. I'm not willing to be less empathic at the same time I'm not willing to just pretend that everything's ok. I don't want to learn to be hard and at the same time I don't want to be a pushover any more. If I can figure this out, I do know that it's the right way to go. But I still have so much to learn...
People think I'm direct. I know I still have a long way to go before I am actually expressing all that I need to say -- but I will acknowledge that I'm doing better. I will always feel others' feelings and hate it when I'm the source of hurt or resentment. This sometimes causes me to delay saying something that I'm sure another doesn't want to hear -- but I'm learning that in the end I will say what needs to be said. I'm not willing to be less empathic at the same time I'm not willing to just pretend that everything's ok. I don't want to learn to be hard and at the same time I don't want to be a pushover any more. If I can figure this out, I do know that it's the right way to go. But I still have so much to learn...
12.25.2007
NORAD TRACKS SANTA 2007
NORAD TRACKS SANTA 2007
OK. I was amused & intrigued enough to check out the partnership between Google and NORAD (the arm of the government tasked with tracking & then shooting down missiles etc). But I did then immediately start to question why our government is spending money on this. You know, a marketing ploy to lie to children through a seriously extended joke.
Then again, there's that part of me which check out the Santa Tracker and felt bad for all those parts of the world that it looks like Santa missed. He did make it to Madagascar and it looks like he carpet bombed Papua New Guinea, but Algeria and Mongolia were skipped completely. I mean, I know he only has one night, but don't those children deserve a fly-by, too?
OK. I was amused & intrigued enough to check out the partnership between Google and NORAD (the arm of the government tasked with tracking & then shooting down missiles etc). But I did then immediately start to question why our government is spending money on this. You know, a marketing ploy to lie to children through a seriously extended joke.
Then again, there's that part of me which check out the Santa Tracker and felt bad for all those parts of the world that it looks like Santa missed. He did make it to Madagascar and it looks like he carpet bombed Papua New Guinea, but Algeria and Mongolia were skipped completely. I mean, I know he only has one night, but don't those children deserve a fly-by, too?
12.20.2007
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