I was reading an article about sleep, or lack thereof, and I thought that this might be interesting to many people who, like me, experience periods where 8 hours of sleep is a luxury we simply can’t afford.

“In terms of error rate, 18 hours of no sleep, which many of us regularly do, is equivalent to a blood alcohol level of about .05,” said Dr. Ronald Chervin, who is the director of the University of Michigan sleep disorders center. “Twenty-one hours of no sleep is equivalent to a blood alcohol level of .08, which is illegal in many states.”

Let’s see… If I shouldn’t be seen in public after 2 drinks…. So now there are drugs that make us feel less sleepy with mild or no side-effects. Just what I need, another reason to stay awake. I think I’d rather go to Starbucks and have fun with the free sampling.

I’m really happy to report that I’ve found someone with even more free time than I do. I mean, I may be what Paul calls a “serial dater,” but at least I don’t go around making collages of male posteriors like this person.

vannoyed: wait… you realise that this person made a collage of various shots of your um… rear end?
…
jsv: unfortunately that seems to be the case

And over lunch today, I had a brilliant conversation with a female friend. “But it’s easy to become a father, you just have sex without protection,” she offered when I commented that so many men seem just the opposite of fatherly. There really is something to be said about straightforwardness.

**To clarify, Paul has nothing to do with that webpage, he merely made comments about serial daters. Also, many people are taking this post as evidence that I’m a stalker, which although not necessarily completely false, is misleading. Those photo collages were certainly not the fruits of my stalking. He sent me the links. Honest.**

Since Fahrenheit 9/11 did so well this weekend, let’s celebrate with a couple more semi-political thoughts. Here are a couple quotes to ponder over:

A state of war is not a blank check for the president when it comes to the rights of the nation’s citizens.

.

For if this nation is to remain true to the ideals symbolized by its flag, it must not wield the tools of tyrants even to resist an assault by the forces of tyranny.

To provide some context, these quotes come from the recent Supreme Court rulings regarding Guantánamo Bay detainees and the two American citizens captured as “enemy combatants,” whatever that means.

In a strange weekend spent near civilisation, I managed to miss both the Dyke March and the Pride Parade. How did that happen? I did, however, end up seeing Robin Williams at the dim sum place we went to, but not being an autograph chaser, I just looked confusedly at his unkempt hair instead.

So, we went to see Fahrenheit 911, which was nice, gory, and generally depressing. The line to get in was obscenely long and the theatre was packed with overly excited and sweaty people. I thought we were going to violate some fire code before they finally opened the emergency escape. I had to watch two James Bond movies and part of Ten Things I Hate About You before I recovered from the trauma.

Other interesting happenings include that long walk from Haight Street, around the Golden Gate Park and into some children’s playground. There were an absurd number of potheads, so I don’t know if it was the second-hand smoke that caused it, but Yasmin and I both ended up feeling so tired afterwards that we went home to take a nap.

Stupid SF area and all those hills. My ass still hurts.

Remember how we’d always talk about having a sleepover while at school? Remember how it never manages to happen? Well, this time, it’s finally happening. Yasmin has promised to show me a good time this weekend… whatever that means.

So, in my copious spare time, I’ve been talking and thinking about societal expectations. Remember the men I spoke of in my last post? You look at them, and think, “I can’t believe they would marry / have children / become chained to their mortgages,” at least not yet. But they are. I see it everywhere.

Do they watch their birthdays pass by and they say to themselves, “Take a deep breath, and just do it.” Next thing you know, it’s about the ring, the wife, the house, the children and they’re yearning for the days when they were young and had fun. But for what? Because society expects them to? Because their family expects it of them? Because their rebellious sibling chose the alternative lifestyle and there has to be at least one “normal” child in the family?

Is this how it will be for us? Will we stifle our passion and ignore the tug in our hearts in order to satisfy what we think others expect from us? I’m not sure I’m quite old enough for that yet.

Listening to:

No Angel – Dido
10 – No Angel

Lesson of the day: All men, despite how nice they appear to be or how devoted to their wives and children they may seem, are secretly hoping that a time capsule will transport them to their college days so that they may have the opportunity to enjoy the company of women half their age.

Ok, that’s probably not a fair statement, but after an all too long and revealing conversation about the potential advantages of wearing male thongs, my cube-neighbors stumbled upon this slippery slope. So now, I must ask my imaginary male audience: What is it with men and their need to seek younger women?

Actually, the real question is, why must men try so hard to woo their women? A friend of mine, who shall remain anonymous, was kind enough to point me in the direction of brochures available on the internet which serve the express purpose of teaching men “the art of seduction.” Although I cannot verify the validity of their claim that they can teach any man to be a “pick up artist,” I do find it quite disturbing that so much energy is being put into something that should be so natural.

Besides, when it comes down to it, no woman will be too impressed by any man who is obviously trying too hard, be he a rock star, a world leader, a millionare, or just the odd nerd we meet in the subway. Whatever happened to just being too cool to care and having a fun personality?

I’ve been getting into this habit of listening to the BBC morning show at work. I get in at around 8am when my area is still a ghost town, so I turn on the computer and start on the daily 2 hours of real work. To fend off the deafening silence, I plug in the earphones and listen to Chris Moyles. I’ve finally managed to understand why people like to have some talk in their morning shows. It really helps to wake me up, but now I have his stupid Euro2004 jingles stuck in my head!

So I’ve discovered that they weren’t lying to me after all. Other interns do, in fact, exist at Applied Materials Santa Clara. They keep telling us that there are “hundreds” around this summer, but I never really saw any aside from a couple people in my start group. But at this intern lunch today, I met a couple who work here in my building even, so maybe I’ll stop feeling like the only person here who isn’t married with 2.3 children, a minivan, and a dog.

I hate to let them know it, but GMail somehow made email fun again. I remember when I first got my Yahoo account. I was so excited about it. I sent emails everyday. People actually replied. I used to email Roanna these huge long self-important messages… one everyday for a year.

Now, I don’t even reply to 95% of my messages, and of the ones I reply to, just a precious few are really conversations. But somehow, signing up for my new email account has made me a little trigger happy. Maybe because I haven’t gotten any spam yet. Anyway, the username is LittleAmyYanness, so email me and I might actually feel like responding.