| It's really hard to figure out how to say anything important on this when one updates so infrequently.
So I guess it's either drivel or naught. Such is life.
In unrelated news, I've been having frequent and vivid dreams about flying. Whether or not they are, in fact, about metaphoric Freudian sex, they're making being awake seem a lot less interesting by comparison.
yarr
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| On AcademiaSo.
Monday: 1pm--Organic Chem midterm
6pm--Contemporary Civilizations philosophy midterm
Tuesday: 1pm--Computer Science (programming in Java) midterm
(Wednesday: Jazz and American Culture paper)
Thursday: (1pm: Java programming set due)
5:40pm-- Molecular/Cellular Biology midterm
Friday: 1pm, math problem set due.
Yaaaay sophomore year!
Ready and set and go team go!
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| So. I'm off again. On.. sunday?
Sunday.
I had thought it was monday (thank you, Kenina, for clearing that up for me).
But it's
Sunday.
fuck.(yay).fuck.
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| Knock on WoodFirst, an anecdote:
Somebody once asked Niels Bohr why he had a horseshoe hanging above his front door.
"Surely you, a world famous physicist, can't really believe that hanging a horseshoe above your door brings you luck?"
"Of course not," Bohr replied, "but I have been reliably informed that it will bring me luck whether I believe in it or not."
A friend of mine recently criticized me in rather a similar light, wondering how I could simultaneously study to be an engineer and still believe in something as irrational as luck. I replied that I'd always held faith in the nature of chance and saw no reason to abandon it.
I've always been lucky-- perhaps that sounds a bit too trite-- things have, for whatever reason, as far as I can conclude, worked out overwhelmingly in my favor. Maybe it's the existentialist in me (carefully cultivated by my father) that sees it so, but faced with the irrationality of my own being I cannot help but wonder at how reliably the small flips of luck have impacted me for the better.
This is not to say that I am amazingly lucky with regards to simple probability... my luck at gambling, or with dice, or cards is comparable to any other's. What I refer to are those moments when, for whatever reason, things just start going right-- coming to class and finding that a test has been postponed for whatever reason when I had forgotten about it entirely, missing a train and passing the downtime talking with a stranger who later proves a valuable contact in the some future scene, or deciding not to go out one saturday night, and winding up bumping into close friends visiting for mere hours, in my very dorm. I have never had cause to be truly depressed, nor truly bored, nor truly angry.
After I explained this to my friend, he rolled his eyes and asked if this meant I believed in some God entity, driving my luck. I see no reason to place this as a matter of God's existence, but my working philosophy is that whether or not I believe rationally in luck, it seems to believe in me.... and all philosophers agree; the only sure thing about luck is that it can change.
also:
(Um. Just 'cause.)
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