I have few requirements in friends. Mainly, I enjoy surrounding myself with smart, driven, fun, and loyal people. The smart, driven, and fun part is not particularly hard to find. It's the loyal part that usually gets you. When people hurt the people I love, I have an uncontrollable urge to punch them in the face. I think, had I been male, I would have been relatively violent. I have been guilty of being disloyal in the past, and I have paid deeply. So I try to be a good person. I try to allow myself to live a life of which I can be proud. And part of that involves protecting the people I love. I have people that watch my back, and I like to be that person to others. It's not hard to be a good person, all it takes is consideration for others. Consider how your actions affect others, consider how others' actions impact those that you love, and come to bat when your friends ask you to. Better yet, know when your friends need you to go to bat for them, even if they don't ask.
Be loyal. Be good. Ask yourself everyday if you are the kind of person who would fly half-way across the country for a friend. Because those are the friends that last. Those are the relationships that make us all better people. Those are the kind of friendships that bring the most good to the world.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Saving journalism
A typical day for me begins between 7 and 8am, depending on what time the night prior ended and when class begins. I wake up, hit the snooze button (sometimes twice), roll out of bed and turn on my computer. I check my email, and turn on the live stream of KUT, the local NPR station. I make coffee, jump in the shower, toast a bagel and get dressed. Once I get to school, I usually spend 8 or 9 solid hours between class, the library, socializing, and surfing the web. When I'm online at school--admittedly sometimes in class--I spend a growing majority of my time reading a variety of blogs. My old standards used to be check email, check Facebook, check CNN, check the New York Times front page, read Maureen Dowd. Done. Now my menu has expanded to include polling sites, political mockery sites, old school journalists-turned bloggers, and my favorite, The New Yorker. The New Yorker doesn't exactly fit in with the trend toward blogs becoming my news source, but I always thought of it as the unattainable thick weekly with small print that my parents often "fought" over. A very common conversation in my home growing up:
Mom: John, where's the New Yorker?
Dad: I don't know, you have it.
Mom: No, I don't, you were reading it earlier.
Dad: Well I don't know, it's probably up by the bed.
Mom: I looked there.
Dad, realizing the magazine is under something else he's reading while listening to the TV and talking to me: Oh, I have it, here you go.
The New Yorker was an institution in my house, and an explanation of why is for later, but all that is necessary to know now is that it is accessible to me now, because it doesn't cost me $5 a week to read. However, I do wish I could have the excitement of guessing the cover art...
Anyway, I digress. My point is that blogs have become a major source of information for me, and while I may have thought ill of myself for relying on unedited, unconstrained sources for news three years ago, I think blogs are the best thing working for us right now. This election has proven, for anyone who hasn't realized it yet--eh hem, John McCain--that the internet as a media source is good for democracy. While the mainstream media is busy filming police chases and talking about Obama's middle name to do real reporting, the internet provides real-time information to an increasingly tech-savvy and politically engaged electorate. Youtube videos and blogs are a major part of this election, and not just for young people. The internet, and blogging in particular, has become an instrument of democratic participation.
Maybe no one reads what I write here, but I have paid nothing to be able to publish in the public domain whatever I feel like writing. For better or worse, the barrier to entry into the blogosphere is the electricity it takes to run your computer or the latte you have to buy at a coffee house to use their internet. Zero. Andrew Sullivan, author of The Daily Dish and senior editor of The Atlantic was recently on NPR talking about the future of journalism and whether blogging was going to end newspaper circulation forever. He made a lot of great points and you can listen to the whole show here, but the take-away for me was this: Blogging is somewhere between the written word and radio, because there is a certain amount of real-time interaction between consumer and producer. There are no barriers so as blogs become more frequent, we should expect those that last to be of high quality. Blogs are good at quick post-publishing fact checking, and Sullivan even compared the process to that of academia, but on speed. Blogging is peer reviewed, but at 180megasuperbytes or whatever the hell the speed of internet is these days.
And just to hammer home the point that this is not just a twenty-something phenomenon, I recently discovered, thanks to a friend, Margaret and Helen, which is a blog written by an 82-year-old grandmother who is extremely pissed off and very funny. My Dad learned to text, and my mother likes me to tell her about youtube videos that she'll never watch because she's too damn busy to figure it out. We are disseminating information to one another and across generational lines at a rate that seems to alarm the political strategists that for some reason didn't think the internet would catch on as a campaign tool. And if bloggers can be effective tools for information-sharing during a relatively dirty and monumentally important election, I have faith that they will remain relevant for years to come. Needless to say, I still treasure the Sunday New York Times in my hands, and the excitement that comes with the arrival of the New Yorker.
Mom: John, where's the New Yorker?
Dad: I don't know, you have it.
Mom: No, I don't, you were reading it earlier.
Dad: Well I don't know, it's probably up by the bed.
Mom: I looked there.
Dad, realizing the magazine is under something else he's reading while listening to the TV and talking to me: Oh, I have it, here you go.
The New Yorker was an institution in my house, and an explanation of why is for later, but all that is necessary to know now is that it is accessible to me now, because it doesn't cost me $5 a week to read. However, I do wish I could have the excitement of guessing the cover art...
Anyway, I digress. My point is that blogs have become a major source of information for me, and while I may have thought ill of myself for relying on unedited, unconstrained sources for news three years ago, I think blogs are the best thing working for us right now. This election has proven, for anyone who hasn't realized it yet--eh hem, John McCain--that the internet as a media source is good for democracy. While the mainstream media is busy filming police chases and talking about Obama's middle name to do real reporting, the internet provides real-time information to an increasingly tech-savvy and politically engaged electorate. Youtube videos and blogs are a major part of this election, and not just for young people. The internet, and blogging in particular, has become an instrument of democratic participation.
Maybe no one reads what I write here, but I have paid nothing to be able to publish in the public domain whatever I feel like writing. For better or worse, the barrier to entry into the blogosphere is the electricity it takes to run your computer or the latte you have to buy at a coffee house to use their internet. Zero. Andrew Sullivan, author of The Daily Dish and senior editor of The Atlantic was recently on NPR talking about the future of journalism and whether blogging was going to end newspaper circulation forever. He made a lot of great points and you can listen to the whole show here, but the take-away for me was this: Blogging is somewhere between the written word and radio, because there is a certain amount of real-time interaction between consumer and producer. There are no barriers so as blogs become more frequent, we should expect those that last to be of high quality. Blogs are good at quick post-publishing fact checking, and Sullivan even compared the process to that of academia, but on speed. Blogging is peer reviewed, but at 180megasuperbytes or whatever the hell the speed of internet is these days.
And just to hammer home the point that this is not just a twenty-something phenomenon, I recently discovered, thanks to a friend, Margaret and Helen, which is a blog written by an 82-year-old grandmother who is extremely pissed off and very funny. My Dad learned to text, and my mother likes me to tell her about youtube videos that she'll never watch because she's too damn busy to figure it out. We are disseminating information to one another and across generational lines at a rate that seems to alarm the political strategists that for some reason didn't think the internet would catch on as a campaign tool. And if bloggers can be effective tools for information-sharing during a relatively dirty and monumentally important election, I have faith that they will remain relevant for years to come. Needless to say, I still treasure the Sunday New York Times in my hands, and the excitement that comes with the arrival of the New Yorker.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Mail Goggles
A very good friend of mine, who appears as "JMo" in my phone, has been the person I keep in most constant contact of my Terp crew back east. We send texts back and forth about politics and football, we gchat when I'm at school and he's at work, and we generally agree on a lot of things so we have a lot to talk about during this election (and football) season. He's begun writing his own blog, and since we both have such massive readerships, we're going to endorse each other...
My Dad has learned to text message. He recently got an iphone and since I knew he was finally carrying his phone around with him, I texted him during a presidential debate to see if he could figure out how to respond. He did, and he is now a fairly adept texter. It's been great during the debates because we can share our thoughts and commentary in real time. It makes me feel closer to him as well, because I know he carries his phone around with him constantly know. He's one of the "cool old guys" who has the phone that most of his students covet. He actually asked me if it would be appropriate to text one of his attention-deficient students during lecture something like, "pay attention, asshole". I told him he should probably drop the asshole, but that the move would definitely get the kid's attention. I never had an attention problem in school, but I imagine if I did, that a professor texting me while he's standing in front of the room would have been a wake-up call.
This all serves to make me ask, once again, just what has text-based communication done to our relationships? This piece in Friday's New York Times style section talks about Google's new application, Mail Goggles, which is designed to prevent people from sending emails they might regret when the effects of a gin and tonic happy hour wear off. I can say that some of my relationships have been strengthened by my ability to communicate so easily with email and texting. But in reality, they are mostly the relationships that I gather I would have worked hard to maintain without modern convenience.
Where questions about the value of texting and email and facebook really come into play is dating. When you start a potential relationship or flirtation out with texting, when do you move to phone calls? When do you move from facebook to texting? What does it mean when you call someone and they text you back? Is it a downgrade? An insult? And has my generation become socially deficient because we can so easily rely on non-verbal, impersonal communication? I have a friend whose little brother racked up something like 15,000 text messages in one month. He had text-dated and text-broken up with a girl over the course of the month. Their entire relationship was conducted through T9.
Americans born in the late 1970s through the early 1990s have been labeled by many as the "Me Generation". We are narcissistic, indulgent, entitled, and spoiled. We expect to be our own bosses, to be given the benefit of the doubt, to live luxuriously, and are confused when hard work is required of us. I like to think that most of these generalizations are not representative of my closest friends, but I understand how the generation as a whole appears to our parents and grandparents who grew up with a work ethic descended from the Depression era.
How does this relate to our obsession with text-based communication? I think it shows an extreme lack of confidence and paranoia. We are so consumed by what others think of us, by whether the choices we are making will change the world/make us millionaires/impress our peers, that our social lives are conducted with various safety nets. We travel in packs, we meet at happy hours, we screen each other's music and literature tastes on facebook rather than finding these details out through (gasp!) a conversation over dinner. The amount of time and consideration that goes into picking one's facebook profile picture is obscene. (If you are female and tell me you've never gone out with the intention of "getting a new fb pic tonight" you're lying).
I admit to being guilty of every facebook and texting crime that exists. I've had my best friend take my phone away when I wanted to send a snarky reply to an insensitive 1 am text in the middle of a loud dance floor after more than two gin and tonics. I've scanned facebook profiles of friends and crushes looking for whatever caught my eye. I don't know what the long-term consequences, if any, that such reliance on email, texting, and facebook will be. All I know is that I'm sick of spending 15 minutes composing the perfectly flippant yet funny and interesting 7 word text message.
My Dad has learned to text message. He recently got an iphone and since I knew he was finally carrying his phone around with him, I texted him during a presidential debate to see if he could figure out how to respond. He did, and he is now a fairly adept texter. It's been great during the debates because we can share our thoughts and commentary in real time. It makes me feel closer to him as well, because I know he carries his phone around with him constantly know. He's one of the "cool old guys" who has the phone that most of his students covet. He actually asked me if it would be appropriate to text one of his attention-deficient students during lecture something like, "pay attention, asshole". I told him he should probably drop the asshole, but that the move would definitely get the kid's attention. I never had an attention problem in school, but I imagine if I did, that a professor texting me while he's standing in front of the room would have been a wake-up call.
This all serves to make me ask, once again, just what has text-based communication done to our relationships? This piece in Friday's New York Times style section talks about Google's new application, Mail Goggles, which is designed to prevent people from sending emails they might regret when the effects of a gin and tonic happy hour wear off. I can say that some of my relationships have been strengthened by my ability to communicate so easily with email and texting. But in reality, they are mostly the relationships that I gather I would have worked hard to maintain without modern convenience.
Where questions about the value of texting and email and facebook really come into play is dating. When you start a potential relationship or flirtation out with texting, when do you move to phone calls? When do you move from facebook to texting? What does it mean when you call someone and they text you back? Is it a downgrade? An insult? And has my generation become socially deficient because we can so easily rely on non-verbal, impersonal communication? I have a friend whose little brother racked up something like 15,000 text messages in one month. He had text-dated and text-broken up with a girl over the course of the month. Their entire relationship was conducted through T9.
Americans born in the late 1970s through the early 1990s have been labeled by many as the "Me Generation". We are narcissistic, indulgent, entitled, and spoiled. We expect to be our own bosses, to be given the benefit of the doubt, to live luxuriously, and are confused when hard work is required of us. I like to think that most of these generalizations are not representative of my closest friends, but I understand how the generation as a whole appears to our parents and grandparents who grew up with a work ethic descended from the Depression era.
How does this relate to our obsession with text-based communication? I think it shows an extreme lack of confidence and paranoia. We are so consumed by what others think of us, by whether the choices we are making will change the world/make us millionaires/impress our peers, that our social lives are conducted with various safety nets. We travel in packs, we meet at happy hours, we screen each other's music and literature tastes on facebook rather than finding these details out through (gasp!) a conversation over dinner. The amount of time and consideration that goes into picking one's facebook profile picture is obscene. (If you are female and tell me you've never gone out with the intention of "getting a new fb pic tonight" you're lying).
I admit to being guilty of every facebook and texting crime that exists. I've had my best friend take my phone away when I wanted to send a snarky reply to an insensitive 1 am text in the middle of a loud dance floor after more than two gin and tonics. I've scanned facebook profiles of friends and crushes looking for whatever caught my eye. I don't know what the long-term consequences, if any, that such reliance on email, texting, and facebook will be. All I know is that I'm sick of spending 15 minutes composing the perfectly flippant yet funny and interesting 7 word text message.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Two months and it feels like home...
It's almost true that it feels like home here in Austin. I say that with more confidence than I would have 48 hours ago when it was still 85 degrees and humid. It's cooled down significantly and it's about 75 out right now. 75 feels cool, it's sunny, and it (almost) smells like fall is supposed to smell. I've gotten into a pretty good routine of school, school, and more school Monday - Friday, and party, football, and party on the weekends. The next two weekends are major. Tomorrow is #1 Texas vs. #11 Mizzou here in Austin, and next weekend is Texas vs. Oklahoma State.
But really, as usual in October, the story for me right now is baseball-related. The Sox came back to win after being down 7-0 in the 7th inning in an elimination game at Fenway against the Rays. I can't say that I maintained faith in them. I was tired, I was annoyed, and I went home from the bar where I was watching when they were down. I checked espn.com an hour or so later and the headline was "Here Comes Boston". The score was 7-6 in the 8th. They eventually tied it, and then JD Drew was responsible for the game-winning RBI. Unbelievable. I absolutely would not have believed anyone that told me that was going to happen, and for that I have apologized to the baseball gods and begged for their forgiveness. Now I am faced with another dilemma that comes with being a multi-sport fan during the overlap times... kickoff for Texas/Mizzou is 7pm Central time. First pitch in the Trop is 8:07 Eastern.
My rationale for going to the football game without guilt is two-fold. For one, this is the football game with the most implications that I have ever been able to see in person. Granted, if we keep winning, Texas/OSU might matter more, but for now.. this is the biggest game I've ever been to. And two, the Sox came back when I stopped watching. My Crisp t-shirt has no mojo. My Manny t-shirt has no mojo. Maybe I just need to be a silent investor in the Sox right now. Not yelling at TVs in bars, but keeping Papi, and Pedroia, and Pap, and Drew in my mind while they're playing... (and of course keeping tabs on the various mobile devices of my friends).
I need time to adjust to the fact that fall is not going to feel like fall. I keep seeing pictures of foliage in people's facebook albums and when I sit inside my apartment and look outside to crisp blue skies, I expect to walk into that clean-smelling cool air that hits your face in a way that makes you want warm cider. I am not used to wearing shorts in October, and my cozy sweaters and corduroy sit neglected in my closet. I haven't worn my boots yet, and wearing my tweed jacket yesterday was a stretch. I have little hope that I will wear my leather before Christmas, and possibly at all. There is a package of caramel apples sitting at the post office for me, so that should make the next 85 degree day a little more bearable.
But really, as usual in October, the story for me right now is baseball-related. The Sox came back to win after being down 7-0 in the 7th inning in an elimination game at Fenway against the Rays. I can't say that I maintained faith in them. I was tired, I was annoyed, and I went home from the bar where I was watching when they were down. I checked espn.com an hour or so later and the headline was "Here Comes Boston". The score was 7-6 in the 8th. They eventually tied it, and then JD Drew was responsible for the game-winning RBI. Unbelievable. I absolutely would not have believed anyone that told me that was going to happen, and for that I have apologized to the baseball gods and begged for their forgiveness. Now I am faced with another dilemma that comes with being a multi-sport fan during the overlap times... kickoff for Texas/Mizzou is 7pm Central time. First pitch in the Trop is 8:07 Eastern.
My rationale for going to the football game without guilt is two-fold. For one, this is the football game with the most implications that I have ever been able to see in person. Granted, if we keep winning, Texas/OSU might matter more, but for now.. this is the biggest game I've ever been to. And two, the Sox came back when I stopped watching. My Crisp t-shirt has no mojo. My Manny t-shirt has no mojo. Maybe I just need to be a silent investor in the Sox right now. Not yelling at TVs in bars, but keeping Papi, and Pedroia, and Pap, and Drew in my mind while they're playing... (and of course keeping tabs on the various mobile devices of my friends).
I need time to adjust to the fact that fall is not going to feel like fall. I keep seeing pictures of foliage in people's facebook albums and when I sit inside my apartment and look outside to crisp blue skies, I expect to walk into that clean-smelling cool air that hits your face in a way that makes you want warm cider. I am not used to wearing shorts in October, and my cozy sweaters and corduroy sit neglected in my closet. I haven't worn my boots yet, and wearing my tweed jacket yesterday was a stretch. I have little hope that I will wear my leather before Christmas, and possibly at all. There is a package of caramel apples sitting at the post office for me, so that should make the next 85 degree day a little more bearable.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
2 plus weeks in 5 minutes or less...
Ok, so I completely failed in my attempt to blog the debate. I ended up just reading the Wonkette's minute-by-minute blog which was hilarious. Since then, a lot has happened. The general update is school is interesting, Austin is amazing, I have friends, and I miss New England.
School is awesome. I love my classes, I'm feeling challenged in a major way for the first time in my academic career. My professors are great. I'm sure I'll have moments when I want to jump off the tallest building I can find, but so far, I'm keeping it together.
After the debate party at LBJ on Friday the 27th, the weekend took hold in fine fashion. A group of us went out downtown Friday night. It was excellent, and I found a place in ATX that people actually dance. Good times. After flag-football practice on Saturday morning, LBJ joined forces and tailgated with a group of alums who roasted a pig and had actual bartenders. We won and a whole lot of other ranked teams lost, and Texas is ranked #5 in the country. The people here are amazing. Lots of good friends already and the environment is one I'm enjoying. This past weekend, Jared and Sarah Fisher were in town and we had an amazing time. Austin is one of those places that no one doesn't like and I'm happy to have been able to share it with them. They met and liked my friends, we had barbeque, Tex-Mex, sweet tea, bourbon, a boat cruise, went to Barton Springs, and went out downtown. Below, a ridiculous picture from our Friday night.
I do miss New England. It's October 7th and I'm sitting outside in 80 degree weather. I want it to be 73, breezy, and I want the leaves to turn red. There will be no leaves changing color here. I hear they only fall off the trees after Christmas. So I guess I really won't get to wear my fall jackets and scarves... ever. Maybe once in February. And I'm so sick of my summer clothes that I've turned into one of those annoying people who wears sweaters when it's not cold. My excuse is that it's 50 degrees in our school building. I'll still complain to anyone that will listen about how odd it is for October to be a month of 85 degree days. The art festival is this weekend and like a little kid, I've already requested a care package from my parents of pumpkins, caramel apples, and other fall things from Scituate. While I miss all of this... Austin is amazing. And I'm 100% happy that this is where I chose to be for these two years. We'll see after that..
School is awesome. I love my classes, I'm feeling challenged in a major way for the first time in my academic career. My professors are great. I'm sure I'll have moments when I want to jump off the tallest building I can find, but so far, I'm keeping it together.
After the debate party at LBJ on Friday the 27th, the weekend took hold in fine fashion. A group of us went out downtown Friday night. It was excellent, and I found a place in ATX that people actually dance. Good times. After flag-football practice on Saturday morning, LBJ joined forces and tailgated with a group of alums who roasted a pig and had actual bartenders. We won and a whole lot of other ranked teams lost, and Texas is ranked #5 in the country. The people here are amazing. Lots of good friends already and the environment is one I'm enjoying. This past weekend, Jared and Sarah Fisher were in town and we had an amazing time. Austin is one of those places that no one doesn't like and I'm happy to have been able to share it with them. They met and liked my friends, we had barbeque, Tex-Mex, sweet tea, bourbon, a boat cruise, went to Barton Springs, and went out downtown. Below, a ridiculous picture from our Friday night.
I do miss New England. It's October 7th and I'm sitting outside in 80 degree weather. I want it to be 73, breezy, and I want the leaves to turn red. There will be no leaves changing color here. I hear they only fall off the trees after Christmas. So I guess I really won't get to wear my fall jackets and scarves... ever. Maybe once in February. And I'm so sick of my summer clothes that I've turned into one of those annoying people who wears sweaters when it's not cold. My excuse is that it's 50 degrees in our school building. I'll still complain to anyone that will listen about how odd it is for October to be a month of 85 degree days. The art festival is this weekend and like a little kid, I've already requested a care package from my parents of pumpkins, caramel apples, and other fall things from Scituate. While I miss all of this... Austin is amazing. And I'm 100% happy that this is where I chose to be for these two years. We'll see after that..
Friday, September 26, 2008
Debate Prep
Because I love Bill Simmons and his live draft blogs, I've decided to do a live blog of the debate tonight. Since live blogs only really work when you have a readership constantly sending questions and comments and such, I don't at all expect this to be anything other than my by-the-minute thoughts put to paper. I'll be watching in the student lounge at LBJ with a bunch of other policy nerds, so hopefully there will be some amusing comments to record... 8pm Central Time. See you there.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
White Noise
I've been having trouble sleeping. Partially because there are not enough hours in the day to get as much sleep as I'd like and partially because I'm having trouble sleeping. I get in bed when I'm done with as much as I can do on any given day, and I can't turn my mind off. If I start to think about school, I try to avoid the obvious accompanying stress by thinking about something fun. A party that happened or is about to happen, football games, visitors, etc, but this just ends up stressing me out too. I used to be pretty decent at quieting my mind, like they tell you to do in yoga, and sometime in the last 3 weeks, I lost it. My mind is anything but quiet.
Nicole called me while I was in class today so I called her back once I got home and laid down. We hadn't spoken in a while and I literally was glad just to hear her voice. She was stressed about SAS and school and then she told me about her job. She's doing research on fetal alcohol syndrome. Instead of listening and enjoying the 30 minute rest I was getting, I fell into the nerd trap- inquire, expand, apply. (That's something I just made up.. it probably doesn't make any sense but I'm a little brain dead). What I mean is, I asked her about FAS, what the symptoms are, what it's like in her lab. Then we moved on to Russian orphans having their adoption fees waived if they suffer from FAS, which is very common particularly in Kaliningrad. And then I was back in my IR systems class which I left at 5pm this evening thinking about which of the many authors and theorists we had read would have a good explanation for Kaliningrad.
So a catching-up conversation with my best friend brought me full circle back into the class I was trying to digest. Is this what it means to be intellectually curious? It's painful. My brain literally hurts. What it really means is this is what it means to be a massive nerd (which Nicole and I readily admit to) since I'm sitting here wondering when I might have a minute to look up a few details about Kaliningrad. Apparently they have the high FAS rate because it's all prostitutes and former soldiers. So, in the end, my theory about why a non-contiguous Russian province bordered by two sovereign countries that has ocean access still exists might just be that no one else wants it. But that's never the answer.
Anyway, now my brain is back at full speed and after a cup of coffee and some dinner (care of Alison) I will sit back down to work. But I'm not entirely certain I can keep up this pace for 2 years.
Nicole called me while I was in class today so I called her back once I got home and laid down. We hadn't spoken in a while and I literally was glad just to hear her voice. She was stressed about SAS and school and then she told me about her job. She's doing research on fetal alcohol syndrome. Instead of listening and enjoying the 30 minute rest I was getting, I fell into the nerd trap- inquire, expand, apply. (That's something I just made up.. it probably doesn't make any sense but I'm a little brain dead). What I mean is, I asked her about FAS, what the symptoms are, what it's like in her lab. Then we moved on to Russian orphans having their adoption fees waived if they suffer from FAS, which is very common particularly in Kaliningrad. And then I was back in my IR systems class which I left at 5pm this evening thinking about which of the many authors and theorists we had read would have a good explanation for Kaliningrad.
So a catching-up conversation with my best friend brought me full circle back into the class I was trying to digest. Is this what it means to be intellectually curious? It's painful. My brain literally hurts. What it really means is this is what it means to be a massive nerd (which Nicole and I readily admit to) since I'm sitting here wondering when I might have a minute to look up a few details about Kaliningrad. Apparently they have the high FAS rate because it's all prostitutes and former soldiers. So, in the end, my theory about why a non-contiguous Russian province bordered by two sovereign countries that has ocean access still exists might just be that no one else wants it. But that's never the answer.
Anyway, now my brain is back at full speed and after a cup of coffee and some dinner (care of Alison) I will sit back down to work. But I'm not entirely certain I can keep up this pace for 2 years.
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