P: Your glass is half empty.
O: Is it?
R: Well, it's a 10 ounce glass, and there are currently 5 ounces of orange juice in it.
O: I only put 8 ounces in there to begin with. Maybe it's 5/8 full.
R: The fact remains, it's a 10 ounce glass, and there are 5 ounces of orange juice. That means we have 5 ounces of orange juice. If you transferred the juice to a 5 ounce glass, the glass would be completely full.
P: That doesn't solve the problem at all. If you change the shape of the problem, it still remains the same problem. There used to be 8 ounces, and now there are only 5. The orange juice is disappearing.
O: But I like this glass. I don't want a smaller one. This one fits my hand nicely.
R: The size of the glass doesn't matter. What matters is how much orange juice you have now.
O: The size of the glass does matter. There is more potential with a bigger glass.
R: Why would more potential matter? You have 8 ounces of juice; you should have an 8 ounce glass.
P: Actually, the juice is disappearing. There were 8 ounces. Now there are 5.
O: Actually, now we're down to 1 ounce of juice.
P: Ah! The rate of disappearance is increasing!
R: Which means we now need a 1 ounce cup.
O: But I started with 8 ounces of juice.
R: That doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you have now.
P: The past definitely matters! There should be a bigger glass to begin with. If the rate of disappearance keeps increasing, you need to start with an infinitely large glass.
O: That's... a little ridiculous.
R: That's completely ridiculous. The rate of disappearance doesn't matter. All that matters is what is in the glass now. Why give yourself a bigger glass to make you think things are better than they are?
P: It's not to make you think things are better than they are. It's to give you a better chance of having enough orange juice even though it keeps disappearing.
R: What is enough? You have what you have, no more, no less.
O: Unless you drink it all, in which case you have none left.
P: Your glass is empty.
O: Or my stomach is half full.
P: Doesn't that make you sad?
R: Why sad? What is the point of being sad about the lack of orange juice? It is what it is.
P: But now there's no more.
O: Unless I pour more.
R: How much are you pouring?
P: Aha! You did start with a bigger glass! Or, pitcher.
O: Or an orange tree. Hey look! My glass is full!
P: Until you drink it all.
O: Funny thing about that...
Monday, April 30, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
Why I Don't Wear Makeup
“I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I
believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when
everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the
prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in
miracles.”
― Audrey Hepburn
I believe in love. I believe in laughter, in color, in wonder, and in waterfalls. I believe in the power of words and pictures and music. I believe in listening to other people. I believe in listening to myself. I believe that being outside with horses can heal people. I believe that everyone can be truly awe-inspiringly awesome.
- Me
Here's the thing. I like makeup. I enjoy wearing it. I applaud those who wear makeup- even more so if they wear it well and dutifully take it off every night.
This post is in no way a crusade against makeup. It happens to be my personal reasons for not usually wearing makeup.
I also think it's one of the more interesting things about me.
Ready?
Here we go.
I look in the mirror many times a day. Mostly, that's because I have the world's smallest bladder, and there's a mirror in almost every bathroom in the world. (I've been to China. It's true there, and it's true here. That's got to be a majority of the world, right?) When I wear makeup, I see a very pretty face in the mirror. It's been artfully crafted to have just the right amount of color in all the right places. My eyelashes are dark and long and make my eyes pop. My lips are shimmery. My skin is uniform, except where I have carefully placed blush. I'm not perfect at doing makeup by any means, but there is no argument that makeup makes a big difference on my face. I like it.
When I don't wear makeup, I also like my face. Nothing is very uniform, but it's clean. It's fresh. I happen to think it's a pretty face. I like thinking I have a pretty face.
When I wear makeup every day, I have to take it off every day. That means that twice a day, once before I put it on and once after I take it off, I get to see my real face. Then, I get an almost immediate comparison of makeup-face vs. non-makeup-face. Both are pretty. Non-makeup-face is, by design, less "perfect" and uniform and eye-poppy than makeup-face. On occasion, this is okay. However, if I do it every day, non-makeup-face starts to feel inferior to makeup-face. This, of course, leads to all sorts of self-concept-bashing that I just don't need to deal with in the morning. Or ever.
"In an ideal world no one would talk before 10am. People would just hug because waking up is hard"
-Zooey Deschanel.
Apparently I'm feeling quotey today. :)
So, there you have it. I don't wear makeup because I want to like looking at my real face in the mirror every day. And, you know what? I do.
― Audrey Hepburn
I believe in love. I believe in laughter, in color, in wonder, and in waterfalls. I believe in the power of words and pictures and music. I believe in listening to other people. I believe in listening to myself. I believe that being outside with horses can heal people. I believe that everyone can be truly awe-inspiringly awesome.
- Me
Here's the thing. I like makeup. I enjoy wearing it. I applaud those who wear makeup- even more so if they wear it well and dutifully take it off every night.
This post is in no way a crusade against makeup. It happens to be my personal reasons for not usually wearing makeup.
I also think it's one of the more interesting things about me.
Ready?
Here we go.
I look in the mirror many times a day. Mostly, that's because I have the world's smallest bladder, and there's a mirror in almost every bathroom in the world. (I've been to China. It's true there, and it's true here. That's got to be a majority of the world, right?) When I wear makeup, I see a very pretty face in the mirror. It's been artfully crafted to have just the right amount of color in all the right places. My eyelashes are dark and long and make my eyes pop. My lips are shimmery. My skin is uniform, except where I have carefully placed blush. I'm not perfect at doing makeup by any means, but there is no argument that makeup makes a big difference on my face. I like it.
When I don't wear makeup, I also like my face. Nothing is very uniform, but it's clean. It's fresh. I happen to think it's a pretty face. I like thinking I have a pretty face.
When I wear makeup every day, I have to take it off every day. That means that twice a day, once before I put it on and once after I take it off, I get to see my real face. Then, I get an almost immediate comparison of makeup-face vs. non-makeup-face. Both are pretty. Non-makeup-face is, by design, less "perfect" and uniform and eye-poppy than makeup-face. On occasion, this is okay. However, if I do it every day, non-makeup-face starts to feel inferior to makeup-face. This, of course, leads to all sorts of self-concept-bashing that I just don't need to deal with in the morning. Or ever.
"In an ideal world no one would talk before 10am. People would just hug because waking up is hard"
-Zooey Deschanel.
Apparently I'm feeling quotey today. :)
So, there you have it. I don't wear makeup because I want to like looking at my real face in the mirror every day. And, you know what? I do.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Little Girl Awesomeness
Me: Where are you?
Schprid: I in the floor!
Me: You're in the floor?
Schprid: No, I up here!
Me, thinking about all the things she could be getting into or falling off of "up here": Should I be nervous?
Schprid: Yeah!
Yesterday, we were at Grammy and O's house, which is the receptacle of all the fun toys ever invented. As Schprid was playing on the slide, I tossed a nerf football from two feet away, which hit her on the side of her face. We all laughed about it. A few minutes later, she posed for the shot and requested, "Mommy, you throw the ball and hit my face?" We all laughed again, this time harder. Apparently, though, Mommy's laughing looks painful, because the Schprid came over, gave me a big hug, and asked, "Mommy, you okay?" This landed me on the floor, laughing still harder, at which point she admonished, "Mommy, you calm down!"
Schprid: I in the floor!
Me: You're in the floor?
Schprid: No, I up here!
Me, thinking about all the things she could be getting into or falling off of "up here": Should I be nervous?
Schprid: Yeah!
Yesterday, we were at Grammy and O's house, which is the receptacle of all the fun toys ever invented. As Schprid was playing on the slide, I tossed a nerf football from two feet away, which hit her on the side of her face. We all laughed about it. A few minutes later, she posed for the shot and requested, "Mommy, you throw the ball and hit my face?" We all laughed again, this time harder. Apparently, though, Mommy's laughing looks painful, because the Schprid came over, gave me a big hug, and asked, "Mommy, you okay?" This landed me on the floor, laughing still harder, at which point she admonished, "Mommy, you calm down!"
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