misc
Since the last day of finals, I've been in hardcore relaxation mode. I have a bunch of work that needs to get done soonish, but I'm still sort of decompressing. It's strange to think it was only a week and a half ago that I was staring down a constitutional law exam. It feels like a different world.
The ridiculous weather has probably added to the feeling. There was a foot and a half of snow on the ground when we left our apartment just before Christmas; the day after Christmas, it was almost 70 degrees here.
G and I came back to Ohio to spend the holidays with her parents. They got me some things for Christmas, which was novel: I don't normally get gifts for Christmas. They got me a few books I'd been wanting off Amazon and a nice bottle of scotch, and I really couldn't ask for a better gift.
Not getting gifts probably sounds a little depressing, but it's really not, at least for me. My family doesn't really have the money to spend on me, and I'm hard to shop for anyway -- I have particular tastes, and if I want something, then I tend to buy it for myself. If I don't, odds are it's expensive enough that I'd feel uncomfortable having someone else buy it for me anyway.
Plus, while I love the idea of getting presents, it's rare that the reality lives up to my expectations. A wrapped present is a universe of potential: there could be anything inside! Until you open it, that colorful box could hold the Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle you've always wanted. It's not until after you open it that you discover it's actually full of socks and underwear Aunt Martha got you again this year. So, as much as I love the idea of presents, the reality is never quite satisfying.
Maybe that's a pessimistic view of Christmas. Shopping for me is a punishment I wouldn't wish on anyone. You'll shoot your eye out, kid.
Anyway.
I've been spending my relaxation time doing what I love best, which is to say reading and playing video games. I'm reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics (one of my presents.) They're both excellent. I've started the former several times, but I always get derailed when he starts talking about philosophy; I invariably set the book aside to go read the philosophers he references, then put those aside because they don't hold my attention well. Interestingly, both of them keep coming back to "concept vs. reality" dualism (whatever you want to call it -- I still think of it as rationalism vs. empiricism, since I was first introduced to the idea in college through Descartes and Hume.) It's a little funny that such different books talk about the same topic, but I guess it's a universal enough idea that it shouldn't surprise me.
In a few days, I'll have to re-immerse myself in class prep and other work, but for now, I'm in a little slice of heaven.
The ridiculous weather has probably added to the feeling. There was a foot and a half of snow on the ground when we left our apartment just before Christmas; the day after Christmas, it was almost 70 degrees here.
G and I came back to Ohio to spend the holidays with her parents. They got me some things for Christmas, which was novel: I don't normally get gifts for Christmas. They got me a few books I'd been wanting off Amazon and a nice bottle of scotch, and I really couldn't ask for a better gift.
Not getting gifts probably sounds a little depressing, but it's really not, at least for me. My family doesn't really have the money to spend on me, and I'm hard to shop for anyway -- I have particular tastes, and if I want something, then I tend to buy it for myself. If I don't, odds are it's expensive enough that I'd feel uncomfortable having someone else buy it for me anyway.
Plus, while I love the idea of getting presents, it's rare that the reality lives up to my expectations. A wrapped present is a universe of potential: there could be anything inside! Until you open it, that colorful box could hold the Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle you've always wanted. It's not until after you open it that you discover it's actually full of socks and underwear Aunt Martha got you again this year. So, as much as I love the idea of presents, the reality is never quite satisfying.
Maybe that's a pessimistic view of Christmas. Shopping for me is a punishment I wouldn't wish on anyone. You'll shoot your eye out, kid.
Anyway.
I've been spending my relaxation time doing what I love best, which is to say reading and playing video games. I'm reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics (one of my presents.) They're both excellent. I've started the former several times, but I always get derailed when he starts talking about philosophy; I invariably set the book aside to go read the philosophers he references, then put those aside because they don't hold my attention well. Interestingly, both of them keep coming back to "concept vs. reality" dualism (whatever you want to call it -- I still think of it as rationalism vs. empiricism, since I was first introduced to the idea in college through Descartes and Hume.) It's a little funny that such different books talk about the same topic, but I guess it's a universal enough idea that it shouldn't surprise me.
In a few days, I'll have to re-immerse myself in class prep and other work, but for now, I'm in a little slice of heaven.