I have recently spent a rather large amount of time being upset at life, often without clear reason. Needless to say, I have become quite well acquainted with the concept of limited emotional bandwidth.
Friends who message me at the right moment get a good dose of my philosophizing, usually packaged as a rant. I had this really interesting conversation last night that went something like this:
Background: Friend thinks I am taking things too personally.
Friend: People don’t think exactly the way you think. Not everyone is nice.
Me: [giant rant about how I think everyone at the core is trying to do the right thing, though sometimes it doesn’t happen]
Friend: No. There are assholes out there.
Me: [giant rant about how assholes aren’t actually trying to be assholes. Most people, all else equal, would be nice, right?]
Me: I don’t know if I’m projecting, but I just don’t see how somebody could not be trying to do the right thing. I think some people just try harder than others.
Friend: You are projecting. People are not nice out there.
Me: …well this is depressing for humanity.
Friend: But you just need that realization, and then you’ll feel better about the things around you.
This actually echos a conversation I had with another friend the week before. So a) ❤ my friends, and b) I think these people are really onto something. Why exactly this makes me feel better is still pending further analysis, but I don’t think it’s just the implicit flattery of “you are a nice person”.
Anyways, this revelation is making my day, so just thought I’d share. I feel a lot better about life, now that I’ve been convinced that the jerks are among us and in fact occupy a larger portion of humanity than previously realized.
In other news, on one fine Sunday night, my bike Jake was brutally murdered:
So I upgraded myself to a road bike. Meet Damian:
Isn’t he cute? He is also like 10X faster than Jake. And so shiny and pretty that I refuse to ride him in the rain or to theft-prone areas like Boston Commons at night, which makes him less useful.
Anyways, less than 24 hours after picking him up, I took Damian on a ride. About 1/3 of the way through I had this ridiculous and rather spectacular crash. (No, a car was not involved, except the one that stopped and asked if I was ok. The crash was between me and the floor.) Wounded on all 4 limbs, I of course decided to just get back on my bike and keep going.
Afterwards I took him back to the bike shop downstairs to get him fixed up. One guy took a look at my knee, which was gushing bright red blood (and it gushed for days- went through a bandage and stained my sheets and everything), and was like, “lolz, did you fall?” And the other lady looked at my bike and was like, “Hey, I just worked on that bike yesterday!”
That bike shop is unfortunately closing. I was quite upset and started bugging them regularly (trying to compress “tuneups for life” into one week) and I think I seriously annoyed some people in there. Hah.
And the last bit of news is that I am signed up for a mini seminar on fiction literature this quarter. I’m quite excited about it. It looks like all fun and games. In fact, it’s pretty much advertised as fun and games (quote, “Samplings [are] a less intensive means for students to sustain a commitment to reading and textual interpretation”).
It’s basically me and a bunch of seniors. We’ve had one class so far, in which we philosophized about detective fiction (our theme) as possibly an extension of the human condition, and also watched 3/4 of a movie. Our instructor is this friendly guy who’s prone to random fits of guffawing. Oh, and he brought us cookies.
This is gonna be great.