The other night, I found myself in a bar, drinking a pint of Blue Moon, chatting with a drummer. He started explaining to me why he loves playing music as much as he does.
"There's just nothing like the high you get from playing good music, when you and the other band members are really on, and the crowd is really into it, you just get that great high, you know? But it's not always there, you don't always get that high, sometimes you're on and you get it, and sometimes you don't. You can always get a high from drugs or good sex, but the high from playing music, you don't know when you're gonna get it or not, so you keep on playing." Sipping beer, "Not that I do a lot of drugs or anything."
You have no idea how hard it was for me to not respond, "That's because you're being rewarded on a variable ratio schedule*, which is the most powerful schedule of behavioral reinforcement. Sex and drugs are reinforcing on a continuous schedule, meaning that you will always get that same high from those activities. But the fact that you sometimes get the high from playing music and sometimes you don't, and the unpredictability of receiving that high, causes you to continue to play music, each time hoping that you will receive that pleasurable high." Sipping beer, "This is a fascinating example of the operant paradigm at work." Throwing back a shot, "It's science, man." (Ok, I don't actually take shots, it just seemed like a good dramatic flourish for this story.)
People like me should not be allowed in bars.
*Note: This is probably why I'm addicted to the internet.
Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts
Monday, July 28, 2008
Friday, May 02, 2008
statistics hate
Last night I learned that working on multiple regression equations for a couple of hours has similar effects on me as consuming alcohol, contributing to the following behaviors:
- Uncontrollable laughing at things that aren't really that funny.
- Use of curse words, both real and made-up, ("Oh shiznit!")
- High distractability
- Decreased inhibitions resulting in inappropriate comments, ("What does 'SM' stand for?" "I dunno, but it involves leather.")
- Excessive use of "Your mom" and "That's what she said" jokes, ("Your mom's a standard error of the mean!" "Your mom looks like an anorexic dog!")
- Increased interest in the opposite sex, (Edgar's male friend called, and I kept obnoxiously asking, "Is he hot?")
- Extreme fatigue!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
gratification
This past weekend, I bought tequila and Snack Packs on the same day.
I love being an adult.
On another note, I'm so excited about all the Oscar love Juno is getting! I don't think it'll win best picture, but just to be nominated, wow! And "Falling Slowly" from Once was nominated! Ratatouille got a screenplay nomination! Oh man, I'm definitely watching the Academy Awards this year, if they still happen. The Michael Clayton cast certainly deserved all of their nominations - they each cranked out superb performances. I'll be rooting for Tilda Swinton. Unfortunately, I can't comment on all the ones I haven't seen, but maybe I'll go see Atonement this weekend.
I love being an adult.
On another note, I'm so excited about all the Oscar love Juno is getting! I don't think it'll win best picture, but just to be nominated, wow! And "Falling Slowly" from Once was nominated! Ratatouille got a screenplay nomination! Oh man, I'm definitely watching the Academy Awards this year, if they still happen. The Michael Clayton cast certainly deserved all of their nominations - they each cranked out superb performances. I'll be rooting for Tilda Swinton. Unfortunately, I can't comment on all the ones I haven't seen, but maybe I'll go see Atonement this weekend.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
And he dreamed . . .
While a month ago I had friends heading to New Zealand, Spain, and London, I'd spent the weekends in a row in a different Texas town. They may not sound uber-exciting, but each of them brought opportunities for me to create good memories that I'd like to share.
1. College Station. I've already written some about the purpose of this trip and some of my emotions involved. The first day was exciting and peaceful, but the second day was exhausting and stressful for my mom and I. I know I said some things outloud that I should have just kept in my head, but I apologized eventually. The stress of the day alleviated around 6pm when we decided to stay another night, and drive around and look at the outside of more homes/townhouses/duplexes, and our exhaustion turned into giddy delirium. We spent hours sitting outside of McDonalds in our car to get cheap wifi, driving around, trying to find properties based on the computerized voice of my mom's GPS program. Towards the end of the second day, we recognized how ridiculous it was that we were following around the verbal instructions of a machine, so we named her Clarissa. "Clarissa will guide us, she'll tell us what to do and where to do. Clarissa, where do we turn next?" We spent the weekend chasing properties, realtors, wifi signals, Starbucks, Walmarts, and hotels. We often found our way inside properties accidentally - a painter working inside would let us in, or the rentor would arrive home and let us in just as we were about to leave, or one time my mom shocked me by simply opening a window and climbing inside.
We were driving along one neighborhood toward a house, when we noticed two young men riding a two-seated bicycle. My mom nervously asked, "Are they gay?" "No mom, they're just frat boys." "Are you sure?" "Yes, they're wearing polos shirts. That's just what fratboys do." "Really?" "Yup. There's probably a video camera somewhere." To our surprise, these young men were friend of the rentors of the home we were looking at! They brought us into their home, and apologized for it being completely trashed from their party the night before and warned us not to open the fridge. I noticed a broken window upon entering, and it seemed like every room went into had another hungover guy in it - seriously, there were probably at least 10 guys coming in and out of the place, all in various levels of stupor at 4pm in the afternoon. One of the tenants explained how they would replace the carpet and probably put in some new appliances. He said that the owner had offered to replace the carpet for them, but they told them, "No, we're just going to trash the place, don't bother." I love that. I love people who are so unpretentious, so unapologetically themselves.
2. Abilene. This was a true getaway, and I needed it. Two of my closest high school friends went to ACU and recently graduated. They are both going to continue living in Abilene for a couple of more years, one to wait for her husband to graduate, and another to complete her master's program. We had a great weekend, catching up, celebrating, drinking watered down Walmart margaritas, having meaningful conversations and asking and answering the questions that are somehow only asked by these girls. Not always even deep probing questions, but E asked if me and M were such good friends because we were both only children. We then started talking about all the things that we have in common because we're only children, and the things that we do differently from others who have siblings. I've thought about this a lot before, but this brought new insights into my understanding of my personality and my relationships with others.
Also, I greatly enjoyed going to E's "inner city" church, hearing the honestly of the people there, and praising the Lord with our voices alone. During the service, I had these thoughts that sound depressing but were actually very comforting to me: I could marry the man of my dreams, and he could die or we could get divorced or I could get some terrible chronic illness. I just thought about the reality of that, how all the dreams I have could completely change, and one thing could happen to alter the rest of my life. This thought drove me to think about how the one constant in my life is God. My husband could die or I could get a disease and it could be absolutely awful, but I would be ok. Life would go on and I would be ok, possibly more than ok, with the Lord at my side.
This weekend brought some good insights and revelations, but mostly it brought me peace. If you ever find yourself in Abilene, you must visit a sculpture at ACU called "Jacob's Dream." It's not really just a sculpture, it's a beautiful structure including a sculpture of angels climbing the ladder to heaven, and surround by large stones, grass, and a small pool used for baptisms. The artist (an art professor) continues to work on this since it was created, continuing to carve words from scripture into the stones. The messages on the rocks aren't always obvious, there may only be one or two words on each large stone, but you simply look to the right or below, and the phrase continues. Though we never did find the "Jacob" to end the phrase, "I am the Lord, the God of Abraham, Issac, and . . ." but perhaps he hasn't completed that one yet. After following the messages in the rocks and taking many pictures, E and I finally just sat quietly for several moments, enjoying the peaceful setting. I prayed, I remembered God's presence, and I remembered these promises that were etched on these stones, from the word of the Lord which stands forever though heaven and earth may fall away.
I also found peace staying in E's home. They recently moved into a beautiful old home that they're renting, with hardwood floors, a moon-shaped window in the front door, and windows everywhere. My times spent eating, reading, watching the end of a movie with one of her roommates, or listening to the rain hit the tin roof that covered their back porch were so blissfully relaxing, I wanted to stay in this house forever. Indeed, after E left for work on Monday and I was about to head home, I was extremely reluctant to leave. I didn't leave right when she left because I was waiting for a CD to finish burning on her computer, but even after it was finished, I lingered. I walked around the house, checking to see if I'd neglected to pack anything, and sure enough, I found a book of mine sitting on top of their piano, but I still managed to leave my umbrella and a pair of shorts. I filled up my water bottle with the pitcher from their fridge, then refilled their pitcher, then refilled their ice trays. I checked the doors to make sure that they were locked. Finally, after loading everything into my car and not being able to think of any other duty that would give me an excuse to stay, I drove away.
3. Atlanta. Not Georgia, but Atlanta, Texas is the small town where both of my parents graduated from high school and the majority of my dad's family still lives there - my grandad, both his brothers, and two of my six cousins and their families, and a third cousin lives about 45 minutes away from there. I enjoyed seeing my family, we had our traditional fish fry, but I also had more fun than I usually do being there. After dinner, my dad, stepmom, aunt, and my cousin's friend from boy scouts, all went bowling. We had heard that the local bowling alley was under new ownership and had been renovated somewhat, so we decided to check it out. Whatever renovations had been done, my aunt said it looked exactly the same as when she had gone there in high school. This place was so great and retro, my cousin's friend commented that it felt like "we're in an episode of That Seventies Show." After bowling, we went to Walmart and bought a movie, and stayed up until 2:30 watching it. Seriously, most of my friends here don't ever stay up that late with me, and I found myself tiring out before my parents and aunt did! I guess I had a little age stereotype that was dispelled that evening. Shortly after finishing the movie, there came a knock on the door. It was my grandfather who had woken in the middle of the night, got up and seen that our car was gone, and thought that someone had shot us and taken our car! Had it not been for his extreme worry, I would have laughed at such a paranoid idea. Shortly after returning to my grandfather's house, I overheard him chastising my dad, "What in the hell?" and my dad explaining why we were out so late. Even at fifty-five, a man can still be responsible to his father.
1. College Station. I've already written some about the purpose of this trip and some of my emotions involved. The first day was exciting and peaceful, but the second day was exhausting and stressful for my mom and I. I know I said some things outloud that I should have just kept in my head, but I apologized eventually. The stress of the day alleviated around 6pm when we decided to stay another night, and drive around and look at the outside of more homes/townhouses/duplexes, and our exhaustion turned into giddy delirium. We spent hours sitting outside of McDonalds in our car to get cheap wifi, driving around, trying to find properties based on the computerized voice of my mom's GPS program. Towards the end of the second day, we recognized how ridiculous it was that we were following around the verbal instructions of a machine, so we named her Clarissa. "Clarissa will guide us, she'll tell us what to do and where to do. Clarissa, where do we turn next?" We spent the weekend chasing properties, realtors, wifi signals, Starbucks, Walmarts, and hotels. We often found our way inside properties accidentally - a painter working inside would let us in, or the rentor would arrive home and let us in just as we were about to leave, or one time my mom shocked me by simply opening a window and climbing inside.
We were driving along one neighborhood toward a house, when we noticed two young men riding a two-seated bicycle. My mom nervously asked, "Are they gay?" "No mom, they're just frat boys." "Are you sure?" "Yes, they're wearing polos shirts. That's just what fratboys do." "Really?" "Yup. There's probably a video camera somewhere." To our surprise, these young men were friend of the rentors of the home we were looking at! They brought us into their home, and apologized for it being completely trashed from their party the night before and warned us not to open the fridge. I noticed a broken window upon entering, and it seemed like every room went into had another hungover guy in it - seriously, there were probably at least 10 guys coming in and out of the place, all in various levels of stupor at 4pm in the afternoon. One of the tenants explained how they would replace the carpet and probably put in some new appliances. He said that the owner had offered to replace the carpet for them, but they told them, "No, we're just going to trash the place, don't bother." I love that. I love people who are so unpretentious, so unapologetically themselves.
2. Abilene. This was a true getaway, and I needed it. Two of my closest high school friends went to ACU and recently graduated. They are both going to continue living in Abilene for a couple of more years, one to wait for her husband to graduate, and another to complete her master's program. We had a great weekend, catching up, celebrating, drinking watered down Walmart margaritas, having meaningful conversations and asking and answering the questions that are somehow only asked by these girls. Not always even deep probing questions, but E asked if me and M were such good friends because we were both only children. We then started talking about all the things that we have in common because we're only children, and the things that we do differently from others who have siblings. I've thought about this a lot before, but this brought new insights into my understanding of my personality and my relationships with others.
Also, I greatly enjoyed going to E's "inner city" church, hearing the honestly of the people there, and praising the Lord with our voices alone. During the service, I had these thoughts that sound depressing but were actually very comforting to me: I could marry the man of my dreams, and he could die or we could get divorced or I could get some terrible chronic illness. I just thought about the reality of that, how all the dreams I have could completely change, and one thing could happen to alter the rest of my life. This thought drove me to think about how the one constant in my life is God. My husband could die or I could get a disease and it could be absolutely awful, but I would be ok. Life would go on and I would be ok, possibly more than ok, with the Lord at my side.
This weekend brought some good insights and revelations, but mostly it brought me peace. If you ever find yourself in Abilene, you must visit a sculpture at ACU called "Jacob's Dream." It's not really just a sculpture, it's a beautiful structure including a sculpture of angels climbing the ladder to heaven, and surround by large stones, grass, and a small pool used for baptisms. The artist (an art professor) continues to work on this since it was created, continuing to carve words from scripture into the stones. The messages on the rocks aren't always obvious, there may only be one or two words on each large stone, but you simply look to the right or below, and the phrase continues. Though we never did find the "Jacob" to end the phrase, "I am the Lord, the God of Abraham, Issac, and . . ." but perhaps he hasn't completed that one yet. After following the messages in the rocks and taking many pictures, E and I finally just sat quietly for several moments, enjoying the peaceful setting. I prayed, I remembered God's presence, and I remembered these promises that were etched on these stones, from the word of the Lord which stands forever though heaven and earth may fall away.
I also found peace staying in E's home. They recently moved into a beautiful old home that they're renting, with hardwood floors, a moon-shaped window in the front door, and windows everywhere. My times spent eating, reading, watching the end of a movie with one of her roommates, or listening to the rain hit the tin roof that covered their back porch were so blissfully relaxing, I wanted to stay in this house forever. Indeed, after E left for work on Monday and I was about to head home, I was extremely reluctant to leave. I didn't leave right when she left because I was waiting for a CD to finish burning on her computer, but even after it was finished, I lingered. I walked around the house, checking to see if I'd neglected to pack anything, and sure enough, I found a book of mine sitting on top of their piano, but I still managed to leave my umbrella and a pair of shorts. I filled up my water bottle with the pitcher from their fridge, then refilled their pitcher, then refilled their ice trays. I checked the doors to make sure that they were locked. Finally, after loading everything into my car and not being able to think of any other duty that would give me an excuse to stay, I drove away.
3. Atlanta. Not Georgia, but Atlanta, Texas is the small town where both of my parents graduated from high school and the majority of my dad's family still lives there - my grandad, both his brothers, and two of my six cousins and their families, and a third cousin lives about 45 minutes away from there. I enjoyed seeing my family, we had our traditional fish fry, but I also had more fun than I usually do being there. After dinner, my dad, stepmom, aunt, and my cousin's friend from boy scouts, all went bowling. We had heard that the local bowling alley was under new ownership and had been renovated somewhat, so we decided to check it out. Whatever renovations had been done, my aunt said it looked exactly the same as when she had gone there in high school. This place was so great and retro, my cousin's friend commented that it felt like "we're in an episode of That Seventies Show." After bowling, we went to Walmart and bought a movie, and stayed up until 2:30 watching it. Seriously, most of my friends here don't ever stay up that late with me, and I found myself tiring out before my parents and aunt did! I guess I had a little age stereotype that was dispelled that evening. Shortly after finishing the movie, there came a knock on the door. It was my grandfather who had woken in the middle of the night, got up and seen that our car was gone, and thought that someone had shot us and taken our car! Had it not been for his extreme worry, I would have laughed at such a paranoid idea. Shortly after returning to my grandfather's house, I overheard him chastising my dad, "What in the hell?" and my dad explaining why we were out so late. Even at fifty-five, a man can still be responsible to his father.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
what I am not
In becoming a more honest and genuine person, it's good to admit what you are. I believe it is equally beneficial to admit what you are not. I've often fallen into a trap of trying to be someone that I was not - sometimes because I thought others expected it of me, but more often because I just wanted to be someone different. By admitting that I am not these things, I hope it will help me to avoid trying to be something that I'm not. Here goes . . .
I am not . . .
1. A Fajita Eater. For years, I've gone to Mexican restaurants with my mom and split fajitas with her, when I would much rather eat enchiladas. Fajitas are fine, but every time I order them, I'm disappointed. About a year ago, I realized this disappointment might be because *ta-dah* I don't like fajitas! This was a revolution, and since that moment, I have stopped ordering them.
2. A Beachgoer. I've always preferred the mountains to the beach. I don't really like the sand, I'm not huge on swimming, and I sunburn easily. I enjoyed my time at the beach this past spring break, but I went on that trip for the ministry opportunities, not for the beach. Beaches are pretty and relaxing, but after about an hour or two, I've had my fill.
3. A Camper. This came up recently in a conversation. I like the outdoors, I like forests and mountains, I just don't like spending the night in them. I like the idea of camping much more than the actual experience. I don't mind not showering, but I'm rarely comfortable sleeping in a tent and often frightened of the animal noises outside.
4. A Music Guru. Man, I sure wish I was! I love music more than some people, but less than others. Most of the new music I listen to is from recommendations from others - though I have fallen in love with some good tunes playing on the local college radio station. I say I love going to concerts, but then friends invite me to go see bands that I've never heard of - reminding me, that as much as I love music, or as much as I would love to love music, I am not a music guru.
5. A Teetotaler. I mostly avoided alcohol until I turned 21, but not because I didn't like it. I'm a social drinker, I enjoy having a beer or margarita at a concert or a rum and coke when I'm out at dinner with my manager and coworkers. I've also recently enjoyed smoking hookah, and wouldn't mind trying a cigar sometime either or even *gasp* marijuana in a country where it was legal. But, I've also never gotten drunk. I believe almost anything can be enjoyed in moderation.
6. Maternal. I love babies, and I volunteer with preteens, yet, I just don't connect well with children. Babysitting has always been awkward - I don't know how to stop a baby from crying and I don't really know how to talk to a four year old without going crazy. While some of my friends dream of being mothers, I dream of having a husband, a career, traveling, and plan at some point to have children. My mom was this way too, before she had me, she wondered, "What's the big deal? It's just a baby." Then I was born, and all that changed. I think it'll be that way with me too.
7. A Bible Scholar. Despite having led Bible studies four semesters at TCU, I do not consider myself a Bible teacher. I have memorized scripture, I have a basic familiarity with most books of the Bible (though I haven't read all of them), and I'm comfortable having conversations about the Bible, but I think that sometimes I have portrayed myself as having more knowledge, and more dedication to studying the word of God that I actually do.
8. A Researcher. Then why oh why am I getting my Ph.D? I must be a masochist. No, I have many valid reasons for pursuing a doctoral degree, none of which is my love for research. I will research, I will complete a dissertation, but research is not my career goal. I hate literature reviews, I dislike hypothesizing and designing experiments, and I dislike scientific writing. I sorta like running experiments, I like analyzing data, and I enjoy the conversations that research sparks with faculty who are much more knowledgable than me. I had a love/hate relationship with my undergraduate thesis.
9. A Promise Keeper. I all too easily let commitments slide. I know it's irresponsible, but when I get sick of something, I'd just prefer to drop it quietly and hope no one mentions anything. Also, I need to stop telling my friends, "I'll give you a call this afternoon, and then not call them until two days later." I think the less promises I make, the better.
No worries Martha, I'm glad you tagged me! I had already written this post, and while many of these may fall into the category of "things that make me weird," I'm sure I can easily think of 6 things that are even stranger . . .
I am not . . .
1. A Fajita Eater. For years, I've gone to Mexican restaurants with my mom and split fajitas with her, when I would much rather eat enchiladas. Fajitas are fine, but every time I order them, I'm disappointed. About a year ago, I realized this disappointment might be because *ta-dah* I don't like fajitas! This was a revolution, and since that moment, I have stopped ordering them.
2. A Beachgoer. I've always preferred the mountains to the beach. I don't really like the sand, I'm not huge on swimming, and I sunburn easily. I enjoyed my time at the beach this past spring break, but I went on that trip for the ministry opportunities, not for the beach. Beaches are pretty and relaxing, but after about an hour or two, I've had my fill.
3. A Camper. This came up recently in a conversation. I like the outdoors, I like forests and mountains, I just don't like spending the night in them. I like the idea of camping much more than the actual experience. I don't mind not showering, but I'm rarely comfortable sleeping in a tent and often frightened of the animal noises outside.
4. A Music Guru. Man, I sure wish I was! I love music more than some people, but less than others. Most of the new music I listen to is from recommendations from others - though I have fallen in love with some good tunes playing on the local college radio station. I say I love going to concerts, but then friends invite me to go see bands that I've never heard of - reminding me, that as much as I love music, or as much as I would love to love music, I am not a music guru.
5. A Teetotaler. I mostly avoided alcohol until I turned 21, but not because I didn't like it. I'm a social drinker, I enjoy having a beer or margarita at a concert or a rum and coke when I'm out at dinner with my manager and coworkers. I've also recently enjoyed smoking hookah, and wouldn't mind trying a cigar sometime either or even *gasp* marijuana in a country where it was legal. But, I've also never gotten drunk. I believe almost anything can be enjoyed in moderation.
6. Maternal. I love babies, and I volunteer with preteens, yet, I just don't connect well with children. Babysitting has always been awkward - I don't know how to stop a baby from crying and I don't really know how to talk to a four year old without going crazy. While some of my friends dream of being mothers, I dream of having a husband, a career, traveling, and plan at some point to have children. My mom was this way too, before she had me, she wondered, "What's the big deal? It's just a baby." Then I was born, and all that changed. I think it'll be that way with me too.
7. A Bible Scholar. Despite having led Bible studies four semesters at TCU, I do not consider myself a Bible teacher. I have memorized scripture, I have a basic familiarity with most books of the Bible (though I haven't read all of them), and I'm comfortable having conversations about the Bible, but I think that sometimes I have portrayed myself as having more knowledge, and more dedication to studying the word of God that I actually do.
8. A Researcher. Then why oh why am I getting my Ph.D? I must be a masochist. No, I have many valid reasons for pursuing a doctoral degree, none of which is my love for research. I will research, I will complete a dissertation, but research is not my career goal. I hate literature reviews, I dislike hypothesizing and designing experiments, and I dislike scientific writing. I sorta like running experiments, I like analyzing data, and I enjoy the conversations that research sparks with faculty who are much more knowledgable than me. I had a love/hate relationship with my undergraduate thesis.
9. A Promise Keeper. I all too easily let commitments slide. I know it's irresponsible, but when I get sick of something, I'd just prefer to drop it quietly and hope no one mentions anything. Also, I need to stop telling my friends, "I'll give you a call this afternoon, and then not call them until two days later." I think the less promises I make, the better.
No worries Martha, I'm glad you tagged me! I had already written this post, and while many of these may fall into the category of "things that make me weird," I'm sure I can easily think of 6 things that are even stranger . . .
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