Go ahead girl, go ahead get down....

I love that Kanye West song. lol

Today I was reviewing my "life's to do list". I was surprised to see just what all I had checked off. This brings me to the picture of Kilkenny Castle, formerly Butler Castle, in Ireland. I know my colleagues get tired of hearing about Ireland, but I can't help it. It changed me forever. I can't hear Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic" without thinking about Kilkenny Castle. My friend and I danced on the grounds of the castle with a bunch of Irish folk standing around wondering whether or not to call the Garda (police). We had no music, so we sang "Into the Mystic". We danced like a bunch of seizure ridden ADHD kids in slow motion, but we didn't care. For us, in that moment, time stood still. There were no problems only pure joy.

I have discovered in my 36yrs that life is more than paying bills and attending school functions. On occasion, one has to stop merely existing and live. Those occasions are rare but they help to make the mundane tolerable.

Insanity is oh soooo nice!

Ever feel like the only sane person in a world full of insane people? I often feel that way. When I was in eighth grade, my teacher sent me to the library to get tested. A few of us were sent there with no idea of why we were going. I sat down and the nice lady asked me some really bizarre questions. I was absolutely, without question, horribly embarrassed by the whole thing. I thought..."Oh no, they're going to find out how crazy I am and send me off". Ever since I can recall, I have known that I am different. A square lost in a world of circles. I just didn't fit in. Well, I answered the lady's questions, then went back to my room thinking I was going to be diagnosed as psychotic and then...off to the looney bin (my grandmother would always say that).

A few weeks later my mother was called and told that I had tested well. Surprised because she was never asked permission to test me, she went ballistic. After she had calmed down, she informed me that I had been accepted into the "gifted" program at school. I thought that meant I was retarded...or maybe psychic....whatever it meant, it wasn't normal. My mother explained that the tests showed that I was "gifted" in the areas of mathematics and pattern recognition. I could see patterns in everything. The nice lady told my mother that I was lucky. Gifts such as those are usually only found in boys. Hummmm.....lucky that I didn't have those girlish talents like...oh...literature and art.

What's the point of all of this, you ask? From the moment that I was "labeled" my life was never the same. I was discouraged from taking classes in art and music. I was instead, told that I had to take science and math classes. My genetics ruled my education and didn't allow me the freedom to find out if there was more to me than the "rain man" that I am. Are our phenotypes(the expression of our genes) all that we are? Is there more to us that isn't dictated by our chromosomes?

Is you is or is you ain't?

Ok this is the last post on "The Exorcism of Emily Rose". I thought it was a good enough movie but I was more interested in the philosophical questions it posed. Questions that I have often wondered about myself. One would not think that a good ole Devil movie would make one have philosophical thoughts, but what can I say, I'm a geek.

The big question in my mind after this movie was simply, "When do we know something is real?" When does a seizure become demon possession? When does psychosis become visions? Seriously folks, think about it. Why is more accepted to give someone a psychiatric diagnosis rather than a spiritual one? We have scant proof that psychiatric conditions exist other than the stories that patients tell us. Yes, I know what you're thinking. What about the MRIs and EEGs? They show irregularities, so that must be proof....right? I'm not for sure. The irregularities shown on this tests are symptoms, the underlying causes are largely unknown.

Hey, I don't claim to have the answer. All I ask is the same thing that Erin, the lawyer on the movie, asked. Is it possible?

The Exorcism is in Room 8

After spending part of my Saturday night watching "The Exorcism of Emily Rose", I was motivated to find the origin of the story. I am so tired of hearing, "Based on a true story" in movies where it is neither true nor much of a story. While searching for the original story on the internet, I came across a very true story of an exorcism. Well, sort of an exorcism.

In the Manichi Daily News from Japan, there was a story of a man who performed exorcisms rather frequently. So frequently, in fact, he opened his own "Hall of Understanding" (should be said with a formidable echo afterward). In his Hall of Understanding (Echo, Echo), he would put his clients in a room and determine whether or not they were "with demon". If pronounced "with demon" he then would exorcise the crap out of them. Here's the kicker...he found most of the demons in women, young...attractive...single...women. The demons that possessed them were so vile, the only way he could get them to leave was to grab the woman's breast, repeatedly. If that didn't work, he would grab other places. Suffice it to say, most of the women had some really determined demons. Well, now his Hall of Understanding is closed (no understanding for you!)

Maybe I need a good exorcism...hummmmm.

One ticket please....

Last night, a couple of friends and I went to hear a jazz band. We were all excited and pumped up for the occasion. The band was awesome, the dancing....well...uh...not so much. It seems that the song, "Ain't No Sunshine", is a fat woman's Sirens Song. They seem hypnotically attracted to it and will dance in seizure-like fashion when it is played. There were so many large women in leggings on the dance floor, that I was embarrassed for them. Hint: If you are 5ft 2in and weigh 200lbs, don't wear a half top....you look like a can of biscuits that popped open in the July heat.

Anyway....back to the subject....I noticed as the night went on, I really felt alone. Even though I was in a room of people, I felt alone because I didn't have a guy with me. Then I got angry thinking that I was wasting a perfectly good evening thinking about NOT having a man. How sad is that? But then, as always, I have a theory on this whole thing.

I think that most older women (women over 30 yrs old) will have trouble finding a mate. This is due to the fact that the older you get, the more unique you become. Each experience you have makes you more of an individual. When you're young, you basically haven't had enough life experience to chisel out a unique personality. You're still unmolded and can assimilate much easier into someone else's life. When you're older, that's damn near impossible to do.

So...what does it all mean? I'm not sure, I just know that I get tired of waking up alone, but hell, it beats getting divorced!

Damn Girl, Look At The Size Of His Ring Finger!

This is fitting for a first post I think. It reflects my interest in genetics and environment.

A recent article in Psychology Today reported on a person's digit proportion and their gender and sexuality. Digit proportion is simply the relationship between a person's index finger and their ring finger. Men generally have a longer ring finger in proportion to their index finger, women tend to have longer index fingers. This characteristic is the only one, other than genitalia, to be sex dependant and observable from birth. It is caused by the amount of testosterone a fetus is exposed to during the first trimester. More testosterone, longer ring finger. Of course, as in all rules of science, there are exceptions.

Men who express a female pattern tend to have more female characteristics, however, do not show a tendency towards homosexuality. Instead, men who are homosexual, tend to show a hypermasculine digit proportion. It's like being a man to the second exponent!

Women tend to have the better end of this deal. Women who show a masculine digit proportion tend to be leaders, they have a higher profile and show more of the characteristics typically associated with men like aggressiveness. This is also not associated with homosexuality in women.

I, personally, have a masculine digit proportion which will not surprise anyone I work with, I'm sure. So...the next time you meet that guy or girl that captures your attention. Say, "Before I go out with you, I need to see your digit proportion."