Behavioral Engineering

"I'd just read an article that I'd always meant to write, and I was quite unhappy. But the tracts on Jealousy cured me immediately. They're little masterpieces in behavioral engineering. As a matter of fact, I wrote them." -Frazier, Walden Two

hahaha... interesting how we can cure ourselves.

Pretend someone else wrote this

Data complained that I don't write enough about him on my blog. He's my boyfriend.

Data has yet to go on a mission. That means that our relationship has little hope for a future. We agreed not to have an exclusive relationship. He's very good to me, but we're breaking up at the end of the semester. Sometimes I wish he were an RM. Then things would be different, maybe. Since I know we're going to be estranged, I'm already looking for a replacement, as horrible as that sounds. I'm constantly torn between expressing my affection and repressing it. In my reluctance to admit my conflict, I often say nothing about it. I mean, it really doesn't matter in the long run. Either way, the outcome will be the same.

I don't like joking about Data on my blog. I like my entries to be light-hearted, and if I started writing about how my grandpa is sick or my dad is out of a job, or I got an A on a paper, it just kills the tone. I think the same thing goes for writing about actual relationships. I'll write about them in my real journal, but a blog? No. Some aspects of my life are going to remain personal (although I think I violated that rule of mine in the above paragraph). My blog is selective for a reason: I like to control the information people have about my internet persona. I like distorting the image of myself to something drastically different from who I actually am. I like appearing flirty, thoughtful, and socially ept, even though the opposite is frequently true.

I also feel embarrassed about mentioning readers on my blog. It's just awkward. I mean, if they already read my blog, they don't need to know about the things I did with them, since they were there. Also, it could infringe on their freedom to create an internet persona for themselves. Maybe I shouldn't have quoted Tangerine's shocking advice about getting over a kissing phobia. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned my presence at the Board booth. To me it's fine to mention people who will never read my blog, but to mention readers, or even people my readers know... that's something I'm not as comfortable with. Maybe it's just me.

Variation

So, Uffish and I went and got contracts for the place we're going to be living in during S/S. I'm excited. It's a house! With its own little mailbox! Optimus Prime and his wife will be living in the basement beneath us... so we could have some pretty awesome Board parties. Hopefully I'll be able to manage my social life and academic life, unlike I am doing now. I'm leaving more things until the last minute... and I don't even care that much. That kind of thing scares me, because previously I've been very aware and diligent in my schoolwork. I still feel like education is mostly a farce.

So addendum to previous acronym: CAPS is more of a CA?PS. And if I didn't know better, I'd say he's trying to avoid me. He just doesn't know that he's madly in love with me yet... (I say these kinds of things to make myself feel better... just so you know that I'm completely aware of my self-deception). Perhaps CA?PS should now be CUPS (Cute Uninterested Professor's Son). That's the problem with human variables: they change based on one's knowledge of them.

Sentimental

So tonight we had a ward dance, which was somewhat fun... but also awkward. I felt like I was out of the loop and not exactly the coolest. It was a great contrast to when I caught the tail end of a Board party later that night. I don't know... all the Board members are familiar faces, funny, and know who I am. I felt so much more comfortable, and I really enjoyed myself. It's like we're a somewhat dysfunctional, large family. Perhaps I like groups of fifteen as opposed to groups of seventy... but I felt at home with my fellow Boardies. This sounds really cheesy, but it kind of feels like when I move away and change classes, the Board will still be there for me. Hopefully my role as an answerer won't define the rest of me... but I like it, more than a lot of other things I've done. I'll be sad to leave when I graduate next year.

...boring post...

We had the Board booth today. I wore a paper bag and a tie. The RRRR raffled a can of soup. We had trivia contests.

I also went to a presentation by Dr. Slife. It made me feel all existential about science. That feeling is uncomfortable. I like my niche of empiricism.

I changed the layout of my blog today. I like it better now. It's green. It also doesn't feel like a zillion other blogs. A little customization goes a long way. I found a really neat picture (see above) on an old friend's blog. It's gorgeous. Especially if I could fit it in in the original dimensions.

Sadness

I am devastated.

My senior year of high school, I took AP Biology. Everyone had a hard time with this concept called the "action potential." I too had difficulty understanding this concept. So, I made a movie using artpad.art.com's beautiful software. I emailed it to my teacher, and he even showed the class, where I was a 5-second celebrity for my skills. He said it was "pretty damn good."

Flash forward. I am now in a neuroscience class where we are learning about action potential. Hoping to benefit from my high school insanity/devotion, I find the link again in my old, old email. I click. I wait. I turn the speed up to "high." Nothing happens. Could they have erased my masterpiece? I turn to the terms of service:

"Art.com reserves the right at any time to change, modify, add to, discontinue or retire any aspect or feature of the Website or ArtPad including but not limited to storage of the Content, email capabilities, access, server capacity or ability to use on any particular device or communications service."

Why? Why should such a great service be rendered educationally useless?

Tell me if you find a sweet action potential movie.

Research Angst

So I spent the last hour trying to figure out what this article I'm reading was about. I tried to have fun with it. I looked up some of the measures they used and even took them myself (yeah, they were on depression, so... that was depressing). I couldn't find all of them though. I've found that when I want to really understand something THOROUGHLY, I feel like I have to look up every reference and measure and have it in my hands before I REALLY understand it. I guess I'm pretty literal that way. I mean... I rarely actually do look up references, but I also rarely feel like I understand the professional articles I read.

So the ward missionaries came tonight and manipulated me into committing to go to the referral center this Sunday. At least they were cute... but I was in such a bad mood from fruitlessly efforting over that article that I was quite rude. Example:

Man: I don't know why, but I always feel elated after going to the referral center.

Me: It fits into the opponent-process theory of emotion. The a-process is your anxiety of going to the referral center, and the b-process is opposing elation formed to offset the a-process. When the anxiety is gone, you're left with the b-process: elation. It's just like skydiving.

Yeah... I'm kind of a jerk sometimes. I feel bad about that. But after studying behaviorism, sometimes I just feel like everything can be explained somehow and we don't need to wonder why we feel a certain way or not. That's one of the puzzles I feel with life: why do things make sense when I analyze them, but then I'm not satisfied with those explanations? Having logical emotions doesn't make them any more pleasant.

Also, I had the pleasure this morning of attending another research meeting, at which I feel completely useless, and I don't even know why I'm going, other than to make myself even more famous. I guess it's fun to be "in the know" about research in the Taylor building... but seriously, am I going to have a career in this stuff? Even if I do, why should I care about being "successful"? I don't think I can make a difference even with my impressive effort.

POWER

I get a trip on power. Today at work I realized I have admin rights. I'm still a little scared to see just how far my power extends (after all, that would mean it has limits), but today I found a new feature of my power, should I wish to wield it. It's not just at work either. In my childhood and adolescence, I would often press my friends to tell me who they had crushes on. Once I extricated this information from them, I could use it to tease them or threaten to reveal their secret. Watching them squirm as I held a thing of power - a name - was highly enjoyable to me. Sometimes I can make guys squirm just by lightly flirting with them, which is also amusing to me.

Of course, sometimes I am on the receiving end of the squirming. My friends don't really have holds on me this way, but my professors know how to make me blush. It is the oddest thing. I like the attention I get when I'm teased, but I feel so helpless sometimes that I wish to avenge my embarrassment. The only reason they have such power over me is that I care about what they and others think. Ah, how simple.

NT

Oh. My. Goodness. I am even a bigger nerd than I ever thought possible. I just finished making a spreadsheet (a spreadsheet!) of the number of times the General Authorities cited the New Testament, Book of Mormon, and D&C/PGP. I should have included the OT in there too, because now I feel like it wasn't complete. But here's some of the data (don't use any of this for anything official, chances are I miscounted a few):

BoM

NT

D&C/PGP

TOTAL

TOTAL	179	147	120	446
RATIO	0.4	0.33	0.27
Pages	531	403	336
RATIO	0.34	0.36	0.36

This is so exciting! I like it when I can think I'm doing original research!

Breaking Things

I am really a fan of taking things apart, even if it involves breaking them. Hopefully this doesn't reflect the way I interact with others or myself... but ripping plastic does give me a sense of power.

Materials:
1 hopeless watch
1 Responsive Innovations response card (that is useless to me)
needle-nose pliers
small screwdrivers
pocket knife
pocket wrench

I attacked the response card first. I couldn't get the screw off, so I pried off the plastic backing in pieces. The batteries came out nicely (they're lithium Toshibas), but getting the electronic card out from the plastic was a little more challenging. They had screwed it in so the heads of the screws were facing the inside. I pried those off too. Next came the watch. I screwed off the back and found, happily, that the battery inside matched those I had just extracted from the response card. After figuring out how to take off the aluminum clasp I changed the battery, but that didn't help the watch (it must have been because I needed to touch it with AC current for 2 seconds... yeah, I don't have that around). So I gave up on fixing it and took it apart. I was happy to get to the crystal part... er... electronic screen part. Fun fun fun.



Wait... that was a complete waste of 100 minutes! What the heck? What am I DOING? Ugh...

Hmmm

So, in my last post, I mentioned that something I wanted was to get rid of all the clothes I never wear. Today I suddenly had this urge to purge myself from all those clothes, probably because I felt bad about something I did. But the crazy part was when grandpa walked into my room and said, "I'm heading over to DI today, let me know if you have anything you'd like to donate." Would I ever! Let's think of some possible explanations:

1. Coincidence
2. The "law of attraction" which shouldn't be working because I don't believe in it
3. Grandpa is psychic
4. I mentioned something about having too many clothes at dinner sometime

What a puzzle!

What Whistler Wants

In one of my classes we were discussing the law of attraction. The basic idea is that if you think about something a lot you'll get it. I don't believe it. I may have mentioned this before, but when I was a kid, I was convinced that I was going to be teleported to some fantasy land any day. I would spend every night daydreaming about it, and I really believed it would happen. According to the law of attraction, all my attention and belief should have made that a reality, especially given that this went on for several years. I know I'm being unrealistic, but the law of attraction is kind of unrealistic.

However, the teacher of the day requested that we make a list of the things we want. I think this is silly. It's egotistic and vain and against all my ideas about what Really Spiritual people do. Really Spiritual people (and this is my bias) don't care about money, expensive cars, having a tasty sandwich for lunch, or scoring well on the GRE. They care about other people and God's will. Now that I've gotten that out of my system, I'll make that list, since I'm such an obedient student.

What Whistler Wants

• time and desire to read lots of books (specifically, to finish Les Mis and start on or Atlas Shrugged or Walden Two)
• a tasty sandwich
• not money, and not to get married for another year (so far so good)
  
• to be spectacularly healthy
• for it to be green and 50-65 degrees outside (sweater weather)
• to get rid of the clothes I never wear
• to understand the things I'm learning in my classes and remember them for more than a semester
• to find that postcard I had a stamp on and everything but fell out of my back pocket before I reached the mailbox (granted, I had forgotten all about it)
• to be able to sleep less; to be more awake and alert with less sleep
• to score in the top 5% of GRE takers and get into a grad school that is wonderfully famous and will pay me to go there
• to get my honors thesis approved in the last two ways I need and then finish it
  

Oh yes, those are the things I want more than anything, and I'm sure if I had them all I would just be a caseless basket, a bundle of joy, and an amazingly awesome person. No, seriously, if I had all those things, I would probably just as awesome as I am now. Sorry guys.

First day of school

So, last night I didn't sleep well, even though I didn't think I was nervous about the first day of school. I mean, I have had so many first days of school within the past year (four), I should be an expert at this by now, right? Yet I still feel vaguely nasous (no, seriously, I have never felt this poorly about the first day of school before). I had a long nightmare about the first day of school: first I messed up because I did my homework and THEN went to class (so... it was too late for many of my classes... only someone as silly as I am would get that out of order), and then I couldn't find any of my classes. However, my dreams were not prophetic, and I succeeded in sucking up to a good 50% of my teachers. I'm so talented!

A New Year

I've noticed all the New Year's posts on various blogs, and I just have to join in the fun. I have decided to dub 2006 as the Year of Dating. I think I went out with five or six different guys over the course of the year, which is fairly remarkable, considering in 2005 I went out with two. I also had a boyfriend for the first time during the beginning of '06. It was also the Summer of the Rorschach, and the Fall of the Thesis (and I mean "fall" in the punny sense, as a previous post about my IRB approval would reveal). It ought to also be the Fall of Music Education (I've been educated in Coldplay, The Decemberists, U2, Pink Floyd, Joanna Newsome, Muse, Oasis, Erasure, etc.). I'm trying to decide if I've changed much since last year. I definitely have more knowledge, but that's kind of a given. The question is: do I act differently as a result of my knowledge? I'm inclined to say, "No, any progress I perceive is an illusion, and my bad habits will remain even though I know they're awful."

It's been strange to come back to my old room. It's so... high school. I told one of my teachers that I dislike fantasy novels because they're so unrealistic, but looking at my room, you wouldn't guess that. I have a big unicorn poster on my closet door, pegasus figurines on my shelf, another print of a unicorn on the wall, another paper cutout of a unicorn on my table, a dragon on my dresser, and a fairy on my bookshelf. Not to mention a ton of fantasy books. You also wouldn't guess that I am disillusioned with classical music. I still have that Oberlin poster on the other panel of my closet, and a whole shelf of classical CDs. I'm not really interested in manga either, but I have a shelf full of that. I guess it's pretty to look at... and kind of fun to read... but it rarely teaches things. There was one Kare Kano book that I liked though. It had a play about a girl who was a machine, and there was a quote that went, "Being perfect will not make people love you. The more 'perfect' you are, the more you become nothing more than a 'machine' or a 'piece of art'." I identify with this quote a little, because even though I'm not a hardcore perfectionist, I think some people still dehumanize me when I do well on tests or relate my short academic career. But I also disagree with it. A perfect person shouldn't just be someone who always does things the right way; a perfect person will also love others to the point that other will want to love him back. That's the part of perfection I'm missing the most.

Vacation

I have a problem with vacations. The problem is, I don't know how to relax, and I feel like I'm wasting a lot of time. There are some people who believe that it is impossible to waste time, as even the stupidest actions have some kind of value (? yeah, I don't quite get this philosophy yet, I think I waste tons of time). Christmas was okay I guess. I'm starting to get frustrated because I have so much stuff. I kind of want to burn a lot of it. Donating some to DI would probably be more constructive though. Arg, who cares if it's constructive? Like efficiency really improves quality of life! This is a point I get frustrated over quite often. I mean, are you really going to enjoy life that more if it takes you 5 years rather than 1 year to learn Spanish or something? Well, I suppose if you were living there it would make a difference. A big difference. But I mean, for like making hot chocolate mix, is anyone really going to care if it's $5 for a can rather than $7?

Another thing about me that bothers me is my elitism when it comes to books. When I read a classic, I must read the unabridged, pure original, and I must read the whole thing. I recently violated this constraint of mine when I stopped reading The Idiot halfway through. I'm reading Les Miserables now, and I must admit that I think it could be pared down a bit. I mean, 40 pages on cloisters? Another 40 pages on Waterloo? I only care about the darn story, so tell it! On the other hand, I tell myself that reading this sort of thing will give me an appreciation for a different method of storytelling, and that in my impulsive undiscipline, reading boring things is helpful as an exercise in self-control. It's also kind of interesting to see how Hugo will start on something completely unrelated and relate it to the story somehow. Sometimes I wish that we still had bards and poets to entertain us, but I suppose that has been replaced by movies and the television, and books. I get bored when people try to tell me stories anyways. I need pictures and the promise of looking smart to get me through stories.

I'm in Albuquerque now visiting my sister, and it's been snowing all day. I still really hate the snow, I hate what it does to the plants, and I hate how it makes everything look the same, and I hate how it makes things icy and dangerous. I just found out that my wannbe leather gloves aren't waterproof. I hate how I have like 6 pairs of gloves and none of them are waterproof. I also have boots and things that aren't waterproof. What is the point of having snow boots that aren't waterproof? I'm not sure, except mine are retro 80's coolness. I wore them to work one time, and my coworker was like, "what are you, three? I didn't know they made snow boots for adults." They're going sledding, and I'm just the party pooper staying here because I don't want to be miserably wet in like three seconds. Yeah, that's me... unadventurous, hermetical, etc.

Another thing I dislike is this denim fashion. Denim jackets, denim hats, denim skirts... next thing you know they'll be making denim socks *shudders.* It just seems so tacky to have denim that is not in a pair of pants. There are so many other things that jackets can be made out of that are much warmer and better looking. Wool, for instance. Also, I have a problem with shoes. I used to wear running shoes all the time, but I've recently realized that running shoes look horrible, even when covered in sharpie designs. Unfortunately, it seems that the cuter the shoe is, the harder it is to match with more outfits, resulting in making necessary multiple pairs of shoes. Shoes take up a lot of space though, and they are difficult to throw away. I mean, imagine in your trash can an old sock, that is doable, but a pair of shoes? That seems wasteful. Every now and then I think about how all that stuff in the trash doesn't really disappear, it just gets relocated. Thinking about these things makes me scared that some day trash will take over the world, seeing as how there is so much of it, or that garbage men may go on strike and I would have to be stuck with it in my area of residence. Alright, I think I've complained enough for one day.

apple

Yay, I'm done with finals. I bought an ipod shuffle for myself, but I can't get it to work. So much for straight out of the box. More complaining later, if you're lucky.

Finals = Ugly

I don't want to write my paper and I don't want to study, and I wish it were over. I'm a horrible writer and I'm going to fail all my classes, and then my life will suck, not like it did before, but I'm sure it can get worse. No one will love me, I'll be kicked out on to the street and live in a cardboard box and freeze because Utah is cold. After losing several fingers and toes to frostbite I'll probably be admitted to a mental institution for being homeless and have a schizophrenic roommate, whom I will instantly start to emulate. Many years later they'll find out the catalyst for my pscychopathology and stop giving finals.

I have strange fantasies don't I? Whistler, you are so weird. Arrgh! Just write the stupid paper!

Milk

I like milk. In fact, I like milk so much that I think I'll write a poem about it.

White and cold
bubbly and hot
calcium's favorite resting place
a hot chocolate base
calms a troubled stomach
babies like to suck
wherever drinks are sold
milk shall be sought.

Gmail!

Whistler: hey are you going to answer that question about kissing phobia?

Quandary: i wasn't planning on it

why do you ask?

Whistler: because it seems like one of those ones that's fun to answer

wouldn't want you to miss out on it

Quandary: lol

yes but i don't know what i would answer

you have a nice answer though

Whistler: that was a funny question

Tangerine: i thought so too

I'm kind of hoping that it gets some funnier answers

Whistler: I was going to put something like "I give lessons, wink wink" but I thought it would be too blase

Tangerine: haha

Whistler: plus I don't know the gender of the questioner

Tangerine: you could do it as "the Supershrink"

;)

Whistler: lol... but then how would I break it to the poor reader

that I'm actually a girl

Tangerine: yeah, that's true

haha. well, you know readers hardly ever take you up on those sorts of things

i think it would be funny

Whistler: I know!

I think I will do it then

Tangerine: or even make up an entirely new alias

Whistler: oh, readers hate new aliases

too many to keep track of

Whistler: I don't know who would pay $147 fot that movie

educational video

Tangerine: haha. whatever

they should just go out and kiss somebody

get it over with

Dream

I have a cough. It's really nothing to complain about, especially compared with this one girl who was out for about a month with meningitis (I guess she caught it from herself a few times... how sad!). I like having an excuse to be grumpy, get more sleep, and slack off.

I had a strange dream last night. I was playing chess with one of my professors in the spring outside the HFAC. I was winning - my king was completely surrounded by pawns (so it was safe!), and I had a queen to take out the king. I looked away for a moment and suddenly my professor had taken a knight and put it on the board to checkmate me (okay, I don't think that really could have happened in that situation, but it is a dream after all). Later I dreamt that a classmate of mine was fainting, and I was like "it's a vasovagal response" (I'm a nerd even in my dreams). Then I was stuck in a room, and there was going to be a recital, and my professor told me I was supposed to play the Poulenc sonata. I was like, "let me go get my flute... do I have an accompanist?" And then I thought about how bad I would sound. I was relieved to wake up.

Maybe this dream means that I feel like my professor always has some kind of trump card over me, and that it isn't fair. I also feel like I have to do what my professors tell me to do, even if I'm bad at it or disagree with knowledge I have to apply.

I've been listening to Death Cab for Cutie's "Someday You Will Be Loved." It's a sad song, yet optimistic. Like a dove dying into a better day, or a bluebird without wings dreaming about flying.