Why are women so fucking complicated? Just say what you mean. I can’t read your fucking mind. Dropping a random subtle hint won’t ever work.

If you want a Blueberry muffin, then say “Will you bring me a blueberry muffin?” I’ll be _more_ than happy to bring you one. That would make my day, in fact. To see you smile and enjoy eating a blueberry muffin would be the highlight of my otherwise droll and unimportant day. Why? Because there’s no confusion involved in that statement. Hell, even simplify it further and say “Please me eat Muffin. Blueberry. Now. Please.”

Do not say: “My grandmother used lard when she made blueberry muffins.”
That will not magically lead me to deduce that you’re craving a muffin and you’d like me to bring you one, along with a lowfat major minor grande latte spiced coffee drink thing.

If you talk about your grandmother using lard to make muffins and I’ll think about—wait for it—hold on—-YES! I WILL THINK ABOUT YOUR GRANDMOTHER USING LARD TO MAKE MUFFINS. Then I will stop thinking about that, and move on how people made lard, and where it comes from, and how nasty it is. Then I will move on to the cows on the farm in North Carolina, and how my Grandmother grew up there, and her brother made me a milking stool.

And I’ll respond and say “Hm. That’s cool. My great-uncle made me a milking stool when I was a kid.”

Do you know what that means?? THAT MEANS YOU WILL NOT GET A FUCKING MUFFIN.

Why? Because you didn’t say anything about wanting a muffin. You said that your grandmother used lard when she made muffins. That’s it. Zip. That’s it. Your grandmother making muffins will not make me remember that you told me 8 months ago that you like your blueberry muffins warmed to 103.8*, and that you feel neglected at 7:30 in the damn morning and that a blueberry muffin would make you feel better about the fact that it’s 20 below and dark and you’re hungry.

Then you’ll get pissed off, and tell me that I’m not listening to you. The fact of the matter is that I AM listening to exactly what you’re saying. YOU ARE NOT BEING CLEAR. Don’t drop hints. If you want a muffin, speak the fuck up and say so! I am not responsible for your lack of clarity. It’s unrealistic, unfair, and generally stupid that you expect me to magically take a statement about lard and turn it into “Go get me a muffin, please.”

“Bring me a blueberry muffin” So fucking simple…..and your gender makes it so incredibly complex.

I don’t hate women, really. I like women. I just get tired of women who cannot, for whatever reason, say what they mean.

Here is what today looked like for instance. Let’s look at what it says, because I’ll bet some/a lot/most of you don’t have a clue what any of it means and looked at it and went “Yeah, WTF. Nerd.”

Ride w/Rocky&Gail Goldstream Valley trails.1h40 Avg 94W TSS=73.7 IF=.663 12.3 miles. Still very much recovering. Graph:http://tpks.ws/6zIZ

Ride w/Rocky&;Gail Goldstream Valley trails.
Pretty self explanatory, I think. Who and where.

1h40
Again, pretty easy, how long I was out.

Avg 94W
First WTF! number. Watts are a measurement of work. Wiki says you use about 125 watts to climb a flight of stairs, although I think that number is a little bit high. Back to cycling: a 30 second long very hard sprint for short time might be 1000 watts. A 12 hour long ride might be 145 watts. Today my average production of power was 94 watts. That’s very low. Zip it. I had my knee scoped 17 days ago. Early in the season, I can put down about 250 watts for 20 minutes. Pro cyclists can do 250 watts for 6 hours. Yes, I suck much.

IF=.663
Yeah, another WTF! number. Intensity Factor. Intensity Factor is a percentage of how hard I’m able to ride. It’s impossible for me to have an hour long ride with an IF of more than 1.00 (100%).

TSS=73.7
Yup.  WTF number. Training Stress Score. This number is a result of a formula that takes into account intensity, mileage, time, and the power produced during the ride. This is they key number for figuring out and relating a ride to another ride, or another rider.

12.3 miles.
Yay! Not a WTF number! Distance. Duh.

Still very much recovering.
Another easily decipherable item, just a comment on the ride.

Graph:http://tpks.ws/6zIZ
This is a total WTF! I’m sure.
It’s just a graph, don’t panic.
Time along the X axis.

Heartrate is in red. My max heart rate is roughly 190bpm. The highest I’ll ever really see on the bike is 186-187. I can’t go much harder than that or I start to black out.
Or puke.

Speed is in blue. Pretty easy. This is how fast I’m going.  Fastest I’ve ever gone on a bike is 61MPH.  Don’t try to do that.  It’s stupid. You’ll combust. You’ll burn up. You’ll die. Or…not. Regardless, it’s not bright. (Where?)

Cadence is in this ugly yellowish color. Cadence is how fast I’m spinning the pedals.  Supposedly, the body is most efficient at somewhere between 80 and 100 RPM.  I’m normally in the 60-80 range. Ish.

Which leaves us with this pretty pink for power, expressed in watts. Again, watts is a measurement of how much power I’m putting out.  The more you push the gas pedal down, the more power you create. Basically.

So, if you’re not already, follow me on twitter and watch for those updates. You’ll also be able to read about how to prepare for the inevitable Zompoc, too.

I hope this helped you understand a bit more of my world, me, life, and the universe in general.
Or not. Whatever. The point is you learned something.
Word.

*sigh*

I say this here and now. If Palin wins any manner of nomination, I’m going to move out of the US. I’ll move to Nepal permanently. Not “if she wins the general election.” If she wins any nomination. Why? This will be the final turning point for this country–and it will go downhill quickly. The democrats could nominate Elmer Fudd and he’d win if Palin is nominated because she’s so utterly incompetent.
That’s not how the system should work.

Invoking luck as the savior or failure of a situation obscures truth, because by definition, luck separates an event from its root cause.

The terms “hazard” and “risk” are often used as synonyms, but they are not interchangeable.

“Hazard’ takes into account the physical attributes of a situation and the potential for exposure to danger.

“Risk” is the identified and accepted hazard compounded by consequences; ie, the “What’s going to happen to me?” part of the equation.

Managing risk is a balancing act between a desired outcome and the probability of achieving it.

Knowing your goal is the key issue because it will become the yardstick by which you measure how much you are willing to put at risk.

Obviously accomplishing something that’s never been done before necessitates accepting a greater possibility of death or serious injury than repeating something that’s been done and perfected by thousands of other people.

For some, taking and getting away with the risks becomes a basic essential purpose and a reason for being. There is no more surefire way to feel alive than to gamble with and cheat death.

That’s all. There really was no point. Sometimes there doesn’t need to be, methinks. Just thoughts.

Until 8am or so.

I really have to do something about this “being bored” thing I’m going through. That or just suck it up and stop medicating myself in order to sleep.