Loved it. Simple. SIncere. Lovely.

The quality of the connection is almost ephemeral .Yet it's the surprisingly
callow and at the same time fulfilling depth of sensibility and affection in a
sea of shallow reality of pragmatism, routine, ingenuine feelings and trite
relationships that makes this connection so special.

On Desserts.

Are you feeling truly committed when you start working on your steak?
What are your preprandial thoughts? With that steak? Hardly. At best,
is there something in the after-steak life? What is on your mind when
you are overwhelmed with satiety, and that steak has no more room to
go? If you think about the check, tips and the state of the
post-coital hebetude, your mind is in need of a serious rewiring.

In a proper line of thinking, you should take a jaunt to the
Dessertland.

Regardless of how good the meal is, it is no more than foreplay
(although in the rare event of steak-inflicted borborygmus that is all
it takes succumb to desultoriness of being) leading to a climacteric
realization that like all roads lead to Rome, all proper meals end up
with The Dessert.

Desserts we love to hate come in a variety of shapes and forms. Cakes,
candy, cookies, ice creams and sorbets, fruits and smoothies,
puddings, taffies, custards, and the list goes on. Even though the
toothsome dessert is an honorary culmination to the halcyon evening,
it is undoubtedly an ultimate source of sugar and mega-calories you
will see next morning making appearance everywhere, perhaps not
limited to the mirror. So just a friendly piece of advice -- being
indulged, be mindful of your long-term life goals, (stress on "long
life"), diabetes and dental aspects of pleasure; be moderate, humble,
and not overly rapacious. And when you find a desert you'd love to
date more often than your actual date, make sure you don't become the
dessert's significant other.

(C) Alpine 2004

"was good to have near...and pretty sad - not have u here"

Who in the world sent me this? There are not too many folks talking to me around here. More so, in English. So please spare me, just come out, would ya.

There is a unrelenting sensation of solitude in a penetrating and burning unity with the world, especially when the world is not overly receptive to such a feeling. What am I talking about?

Weekend blues... Even though got well asjusted to, weekends are very challenging time for me. For a while I was trying to pretend weekends are jusy any other days and time of the week. For some time it was working, especially during crunch times, when I move faster then the world. However slowing down just enough to take a breath I feel the stinging drag.

For the second day I'm doing nothing. Watching movies at friends' cable loaded house. Just watched "Kissing Jessica Stein".. Blossom Dearie has a song on the soundtrack (I wish you love, (a very appropriate for my current status :)))..... just a lovely movie.


hm.. Couldn't find lyrics for I WIsh You Love on the Net...
So I jot them down myself

I wish you bluebirds in the Spring
To give your heart a song to sing
And then a kiss, but more than this,
I wish you love.

And in July a lemonade,
to cool you in some leafy glade
I wish you health, and more than wealth,
I wish you love

My breaking heart and I agree
Then you and I could never be
So with my best, my very best,
I set you free.

I wish you shelter from the storm,
A cosy fire to keep you warm,
But most of all, when snow flakes fall,
I wish you love.

the best way to get to know Panjabi bhangra music and live :) is to listen to Panjabi MC "Beware"

hey, if you enjoy good laugh, intellectual jokes and good music, tune to

http://www.prairiehome.org/

and listen to Prairie Home Companion with Garrison Keillor. This month they broadcast from New York every Saturday 6pm EST. if you miss the live broadcast, they have an old shows archive:

http://www.prairiehome.org/listings/

Everyone who ever liked "kapustniks" should give PHC a try. Enjoy. :)

PS. Those who live in US can catch PHC on NPR stations over the country.

Whiteout conditions, sustained winds of 35 miles per hour, a foot or more of snow is forecasted by the time it's over.

I love it!

It means I'll go ski sooner thatn I thought, that I can refresh my snow driving skills, and emjoy a pristine virgin snow in the woods... Ahhhhh.. What a treat to have so much snow at once!

It also reminds me to get on X-mas present shopping :)

Yesterday - Blossom Dearie
Today - Inga Swearingen

I definitely feel jazzy these days ;)

PS. It's a pun. Jazzy means more than just related to jazz. Feel Juzzy means feel happy and romantic.

Just discovered Blossom Dearie. Simply incredible.

Testers needed for orgasm machine

At 7:30 A.M. on September 13, 1999, an anesthesiologist and two orderlies rolled our patient, whom I will call Vincent Caselli, into the operating room, where his attending surgeon and I awaited him. Caselli was a short man of middle age-five feet seven, fifty-four years old. The son of Italian immigrants, he had worked as a heavy-machine operator and road-construction contractor. (He and his men had paved a rotary in my own neighborhood.) He had been married for thirty-five years; he and his wife had three girls, all grown now. And he weighed four hundred and twenty-eight pounds. Housebound, his health failing, he no longer had anything resembling a normal life. And so, although he was afraid of surgery, he had come for a Roux-en-Y gastric-bypass operation. It is the most drastic treatment we have for obesity. It is also among the strangest operations surgeons perform. It removes no disease, repairs no defect or injury. It is an operation that is intended to control a person's will-to manipulate his innards so that he does not overeat-and it is soaring in popularity. Some forty-five thousand patients underwent obesity surgery in 1999, and the number is expected to double by 2003.

Continue

Here is an excerpt from "Complications: A Surgeon's Note On An Imperfect Science" by Atul Gawande

I was once on trauma duty when a young man about twenty years old was rolled in, shot in the buttock. His pulse, blood pressure, and breathing were all normal. A clinical assistant cut the clothes off him with heavy shears, and I looked him over from head to toe, trying to be systematic but quick about it. I found the entrance wound in his right buttock cheek, a neat, red, half-inch hole. I could find no exit wound. No other injuries were evident.

Continue

Sorry for English. Wanted that more people read this, but I'm currently writing a chapter for the book, and that's in English, and I can't switch fast :)

The story is short but I think interesting to tell.

I met a girl recently, in my karate class. She's cute and certainly butt-kicking anyway you look at it (not the butt, the girl :)). So I talked to her after the class, and on top of her looks she was fun to talk to, and sweet, and everything with it. So we talked before letting each other get changed, then we talked some more, and parted. I found out she's a conservator at Yale Center of British Arts. Not that I'm really into conservators (any way you have it, politically or professionaly), but she was worth the shots - brains, charm, wit, body, all seem to be in right place at a rigth time.

So I went back to the lab and did some research. So turned out, she's a Canadian, which I loved, she's pro-peace, and involved in volunteering, which was awesome. And finally she speaks French and Spanish. I was truly hitting my luck. Or so I though until I found another piece of info that she's involved in pro-Palestinian movement. Not that I have anything against Palestinians, it's just that I'm jewish.

So. I'm now thinking, how so that one little thing means so much more than everything else?.

A great read:

Complications: A Surgeon's Note On An Imperfect Science by Atul Gawande.

#1
A man comes into the ER and yells "My wife's going to have her baby in
the cab!" I grabbed my stuff, rushed out to the cab, lifted the lady's
dress, and began to take off her underwear. Suddenly I noticed that
there are several cabs, and I was in the wrong one

#2
At the beginning of my shift I placed a stethoscope on an elderly and
slightly deaf female patient's anterior chest wall. "Big breaths," I
instructed. "Yes, they used to be," remorsed the patient.

#3
During a patient's two week follow-up appointment with his
cardiologist, he informed his doctor that he was having trouble with
one of his medications. "Which one?", asked the doctor. "The patch.
The nurse told me to put on a new one every six hours and now I'm
running out of places to put it!" The doctor had him quickly undress
and discovered what he hoped he wouldn't see. Yes, the man had over
fifty patches on his body! Now the instructions include removal of the
old patch before applying a new one.

#4
I was performing a complete physical, including the visual acuity
test. placed the patient twenty feet from the chart and began, "Cover
your right eye with your hand." He read the 20/20 line perfectly. "Now
your left." Again, a flawless read. "Now both," I requested. There was
silence. He couldn't even read the large E on the top line. I turned
and discovered that e had done exactly what I had asked; he was
standing there with both his eyes covered. I was laughing too hard to
finish the exam.

I finally saw it. I haven't spent a dime on this movie, and I was happy about it before and, what's the most important, after I saw it. It's a greatest pleasure I came out from the theater with that I haven't contributed my money to a mediocre presentation. Although I had to concede 2 hours watching futile attempts of indestructable characters to destroy each other (never mind mortal Neo and Trinity, who would let THEM die?). The only satisfaction I had at the moment "To be concluded" appeared was with my own martial art skills -- I was able to tell kicks and punches from each other in rapid, long and bo-o-o-o-oring sequences and sometimes even name them (in Japanese, I mind you :)).

Overall, style wins over substance. But who would anticipate the other way around if Keanu Reeves opens his mouth. He was born in a wrong time, his creed should be silent movies.

Letting all these portentous proclamations and fancy philosophical aspirations run aplenty, the movie lost its mystique and, a simple and the most important of all, fun.

For those who's interested:

http://web.lexis-nexis.com/universe/document?_m=7e...10021e6a49cf475e768f8787ba3385

Just talked to a nice lady I fancied some time ago. She's all nice and kind and pretty, but she's got this stupid (IMHO) idea that a guy has to win a woman over, to "fight" over her, and all that. So the idea is that at some point a woman will finally melt and accept him as her boyfriend (read, "the prince")

I totally disagree. It's a game, and as all games in relationships this one is asking for troubles sometime later, if the relationships will actually flourish.

I think this way. If a girl likes a guy, she should say so. If a guy likes a girl, he should say so too. If either of them gets a rejection letter, they know to change venues and move on. If they match, enjoy staying and being together, have fun, hold hands and all that until decided otherwise :). Plain and easy. No games, no gimmicks. Everybody is happy.

In my humble opinion, the guy might actually focus on the "fight" and the victory rather than the woman. Of course it will be nice in the process, but the goal is ill-fated. So basically, the woman offers herself as a prize in some silly game. It will include tons of tests the guy will have to take, most of them unwillingly, without even knowing he's given one.

So finally when it's time to get warm, the girl expects the guy to be elated when he finds out that she's finally accepted him, which for this type of girls will most likely be an offer of intimacy. The guy gets a pass, enjoys sex and thinks that the fight is over, the victory is attained and it's time to be happy, If not immediately, then a bit later, girl reminds him that the fight is actually going to be a perpetual exercise, this time she needs him to prove that he STILL loves her by doing something to keep her. Pretty soon the guy will get the point that his life will be an endless test and moves on to a more "peaceful" woman who is not so interested to be won over as in the guy himself. The "dumped" one is heart-broken cursing all male population for being such jerks and for using her to get sex. (Well actually it exaclty looks like it, if you look from girl's perspsective. The guy is super-nice, gives her gifts and all that, gets free sex for some time while still being nice and then out of the blue dumps her. Who wouldn't be angry!)

Now girls, is it really worth playing such a game? Or rather to lay it down straight that you like the guy and you want to date him and see what comes out of it. If it clicks, you'll get there sooner, if it doesn't, oh well, you'll be out of the woods sooner, and ready for the next adventure.

Common, wake up, it's 21st century! Girl can ask a guy for the date!


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Только что поговорил с хорошей леди я интресовался некоторое время назад. Она вcя хороша и добра и симпатична, но она одержима такой идеей, что парень должен выиграть женщину, "бороться" по ней, и тому подобное. Так что идея состоит в том, что в некоторое время женщина наконец раcтает и примет его.

Я полностью не согласен. Это - игра, и как все игры в отношениях, эта напрашивается на неприятности когда-нибудь позже, если отношения фактически будут процветать.

Я думаю так. Если девушке нравится парень, она должна сказать ему как есть. Если парню симпатична девушка, он должен говорить также. Если любой из них получает отказ, они знают, что надо искать дальше. Если они соответствуют, то и хорошо. Легко и просто. Никаких игр, никаких трюков. Каждый - счастлив.

По моему скромному мнению, в такой игре парень мог бы фактически сосредотачиваться на "борьбе" и победе скорее чем на девушке. Конечно это будет хорошо в процессе игры, но цель злополучна. Так получается, что девушка по неволе предлагает себя в качестве приза в некоторой глупой игре. Такая игра включает тонны испытаний для парня; большинство из них даже без знания что он подвергнут им.

В конце концов, в лучшем случае приходит время когда девушка решает, что она получила подтверждение своей исключительности. Она ожидает, что парень будет ликовать, когда он узнаёт, что она наконец приняла его. Вероятно, для этого типа девушек наиболее вероятным подверждением будет предложение близости. Парень получает free pass, наслаждается сексом и думает, что борьба закончена, победа достигнута, и пришло время быть счастливым. Если не немедленно, тогда немного позже, девушка напоминает ему, что борьба фактически будет бесконечным упражнением, на сей раз она нуждается в доказательстве, что он ВСЕ ЕЩЕ любит ее, делая кое-что, чтобы удержать ее. Довольно скоро парень поймёт, что его жизнь будет бесконечным испытанием
и может предпринять поиски "более мирной" женщины, кто не так заинтересована, чтобы быть выигранной как в парне как таковом. "Покинутая" - убитая горем клянёт все мужское население за то что они такие толчки и потому что чувствует себя использованной для секса. (Фактически это так и есть, если Вы смотрите со точки зрения девушки. Парень суперхорош, дает ей подарки и все прочее, получает секс в течение некоторого времени в то время как быть все еще хороший и вдруг кидает её. Кто не был бы убит горем!)

Так что, стОит ли такая игра свеч? Или действительно сказать прямо в лоб, что вам нравится парень.

Common, wake up, it's 21st century! Girl can ask a guy for the date!


ПС... не обращайте внимания на немого корявый русский - переводил с английского.

Ну наконец-то, наконец-то мы попали в мировые новости! У нас в универе взорвали бомбу... вроде никто не пострадал и вроде это дело местных.....

И кому это охота бомбить New Haven.. у нас даже и бомбить-то нечeго..

Как и обещал, Puzzler #4

В молодости Некто путешествовал к Великим Пирамидам Египта. Он был очень поражен путешествием. Многими годами позже он решил взять своего сына в путешествие к Великим Пирамидам Египта. До этого сын ни разу не покидал дома. Своё первое путешествие Некто предпринял в 1996 году, а путешествие с сыном было в 1969 году. Возможно ли такое?