Go On, Get a Little Closer1. Is this why women who work in predominantly female environments (like, say, librarians) are often at least slightly peculiar?
"If you're feeling anxious, try sniffing the armpit of the nearest sweaty male. OK, that might not be possible--or even desirable--but a study conducted at the Monell Chemical Senses Center in Philadelphia found that women reported feeling more relaxed after six hours of regular exposure to male underarm secretions. The effect is a response to men's pheromones, natural body chemicals that act as regulators of mood and influence female hormonal changes. According to researchers, the ability to isolate active pheromones could lead to advancements in fertility and PMS treatments, providing yet another good reason to snuggle up."
(LaVonne Taylor)
2. Is it hard to maintain a relationship if one works at a Chemical Senses Center, particularly as a scent researcher?
3. What are they truly proposing? I'm not sure that I like it, regardless.
~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry wrote (in Wind, Sand, and Stars), that "Perfection is finally attained not when there is no longer anything to add but when there is no longer anything to take away, when a body has been stripped down to its nakedness." Is that why I'm so happy with my thesis now? Regardless, I think it's better than it's ever been.
~ Read something on the internet this afternoon re: flatland traffic. It reminded me that I wanted to write about speed tables. For the uninitiated, speed tables are this state's (or maybe just local) equivalent of speed bumps, but overgrown and way more irritating. They're probably 8 inches off the ground and 6 feet across. There's one street that I use regularly that has them about every half-block or so. Local legend is that a kid got squashed in traffic and the neighborhood caused enough uproar that the city council gave in on the speed tables.
My opinion: they're annoying, jarring, and utterly unfair. The speed limit in that area is the same as it is in other areas. The relative danger to children is the same. There is no more traffic there than in lots of other places where kids spend time. Why the unequal application of enforcement? Simple: money.
My petty response: music. Loud, thumpy bass, unrepentant. As slow as possible. Rich bastards.
~ Speaking of bastards. When I was in law school we were given a student directory each year, complete with photographs, addresses, phone numbers, email addresses and other identifying information. The books were known as "stalkers' guides." Scary.
~ I wasn't much of a "joiner" in law school. Didn't do law review (fucking boys' club!) or any of those pseudo-mandatory If One Is To Be Successful groups. Definitely didn't bother with the frat thing. The one club that I did join: CLSLAW, pronounced "coleslaw." The Canadian Law Students Association. Dedicated to little more than drinking beer, talking about hockey, and saying, "Eh?" a lot. Those were good times.
~ Sometimes you can't escape something - wherever you look, it's right in front of you. Like when I'm homesick, every book I find is about my home state. Every song on the radio is by Prince or Dylan or Bob Mould. I'm having one of those times right now, and there's only one other person in the entire world who knows what's causing it, and that it's not a bad thing, and that I don't necessarily want it to stop. But it's damned distracting. Everywhere I look, reduced-cost flights. Songs with a simple word dropped in with no apparent intent. Books that just happen to be set... but is it all so simple? Am I really stumbling upon these things, or subconsciously seeking them out? Am I trying to subtly nudge my life in this direction?
No comments:
Post a Comment