Category Archives: Random Musings

It’s pronounced brusKetta

sKedule, and sKool.

Either that or bruSHetta, SHedule, and SHool.

Take your pick.


Merry Holidays, Everybody

So I was letting my mind wander during Christmas mass and thought about the first Christmas. Now, the Bible has a lot of stories and lessons for the modern man, and the Christmas story is no exception. You see, the three wise men brought Our Lord and Savior the Baby Jesus three gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Now, I know that gold is a common gift to infants in many countries. I myself have received gold…or so my parents tell me, because I was too young to remember. But the other two? Frankincense and myrrh? Even Sunday school teachers struggle to explain what frankincense and myrrh are before resorting to the “it was a big deal back then” explanation. So apparently frankincense is some sort of aromatic resin product, like really expensive potpourri or scented candles, you know, for Joseph and Mary to use to spice up their bedroom life-oh wait, they were celibate, weren’t they? Gift wasted. And myrrh? Aside from the you’re-going-to-die implications of its use for embalming bodies, myrrh was also used as a medicinal product, mainly for dressing wounds. Wounds? Like perhaps, nail wounds? Seriously, a terrible reminder for the Baby Jesus that HE’S GOING TO DIE FOR OUR SINS.

Lesson? Even the Baby Jesus got shitty Christmas gifts. Don’t complain because you got some books.

On Smoking

I’ve always been a staunchly against the habit of smoking. My feelings on the matter probably stem from the many trips I made to the Boston Museum of Science. To warn scientifically-curious children against the dangers of smoking, the museum showcased the lung of a heavy smoker, a black, tarry, shriveled organ that bear no likeliness to the perfect pink specimen right next to it, along with a long list of the cancer-inducing chemicals that could be found in the average pack of cigarettes. The fear tactic worked. The next time my uncle, a chain smoker, came to visit us in Cambridge, I plastered the screen window of our balcony with “NO SMOKING” signs while he had a cigarette or two on the balcony. He helped me print and tape the signs to the windows, leading me to suspect that he wasn’t taking this as seriously as I was. He still smokes, but now he rolls his own cigarettes. It’s healthier, he says. I take my victories where I can.

Sad Sack

It’s raining outside, the liquor section of my bookcase is becoming dangerously thin, and I have no new Mad Men episodes to look forward to for the next nine months. Time to turn on some Jeff Buckley and make some impulse purchases.

Well, knows who I am

So there’s a site called that analyzes your blog’s writing style and figures out who the writer is and the general tone of the blog. I thought it would be interesting to see how this blog is seen so I decided to try it out. Here are the results.

Text analysis is probably written by a female somewhere between 18-25 years old. The writing style is personal and happy most of the time.



So yeah… Since I am apparently a girl and I obsess over Zooey Deschanel, I must be a lesbian. Yes, I’ll admit it. I am in lesbian with Zooey Deschanel.

Because who wouldn't be in lesbian with her?

Love is a painkiller (apparently)

So a study done at Stanford University showed that people who are in the “admittedly have strong feelings for” stage of their emotional connection with some other person sense less pain than the average person, because apparently the emotion of love does things to the brain that are similar to the effects of dopamines and cocaine. So when you are in love, everything hurts a little less. This was all proven with real sciency things like MRIs and electrodes and stuff, so it must definitely be true.

…is that why the world hurts so much when you’ve fallen out of love?

[The Guardian]


Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be an elephant.

No, I don’t. That’s absurd.

But I do wonder what it would be like to be Tony Stark.

Yeah…that would be the life…