A (Lady) Bug's Life

  Standing in line at Qdoba for lunch, the four of us (my coworkers and I) noticed a ladybug crawling along the cracks in the tile, moving with the line. Apparently, it was a "fake" ladybug, something I didn't even know existed. Apparently, it was a ladybug imposter that looks just like a ladybug only darker. They eat the fruit or the vegetable, while true ladybugs eat the other bugs (aphids) that eat the fruit or vegetable. It occurred to me how evolutionarily advantageous this was. (I actually articulated this, and didn't stumble over the word "evolutionarily".) We watched for a painstaking, horrifying 5 minutes as the ladybug imposter inched closer and closer to the front of the line.
    There was a man at the counter who was shifting his weight and moving his feet around. We avoided the little bugger, but as the bug got closer to the counter (and past his place in line, I might add), it became alarmingly clear that he was probably going to get stepped on, and what's more, it would be the weight-shifting yakker ahead of us who would unknowingly do the deed. And sure enough, ladybug imposter gets closer, closer, and then, weight-shifter shifts again and... SMUSH.
    We had a brief psychological/philosophical discussion about the bug still being alive after getting stepped on, the size of its brain, and whether it was able to feel pain. My inclination was no. The bug may not have died on impact, but what little brains it has surely can't register pain anymore, I thought. Its head is probably the most vulnerable part, and would have probably been crushed more than its back when stepped on. Any life left in it would be reflexes, not neurological commands. I didn't want to get into it, and as we were at the place in line where we could order finally, I didn't have to.
    But, how did the little ladybug imposter get inside the Qdoba? Did he walk, as we saw him doing? Did he fly through the door as it opened? Or did he land on some unsuspecting burrito lover who carried him in? How did he reach his eventual demise? We'll never know, but that's why there are people like me. To imagine a plot in which a ladybug imposter finds himself on the floor at Qdoba.

Ladybug imposter? Bah, humbug.

Basic Instincts

  Remember what I said about tolerance a while back? Forget all that. Just kidding. [PS: Apologies for not posting lately. My internet's been down ): ]
    Why is that we feel it's okay to stop tolerating people? Or not tolerate certain people. Certain people "bring it on themselves" or "have a bad attitude" or are just "different" that they don't deserve our acceptance. At least, this is what we like to tell ourselves. I'll admit, as preachy as I may get, I'm guilty of this one. Every now and again, I'll meet a person who I immediately just don't like. This dislike may occur for various reasons--while I like to blame it on pheromones, that may not be the entire truth of the matter. It's physiologically possible for us to dislike people based on the pheromones they excrete, just like it's physiologically programmed for us to be attracted to certain people based on their pheromones. It's a tactic we've evolved to help us find the most suitable mates and most evolutionarily compatible (i.e. non-threatening and non-harmful) companions. But pheromones may also warn us to stay away from certain people the way taste buds warn us about harmful foods.
    I'm no scientist, by anyone's standards. So, take this scientific speak with a grain of salt based on my limited understanding of how the body, and brain, work. If something is bitter, our taste buds let us know, and many times we will tend to avoid that food in the future. If someone's pheromones are distasteful, so to speak, our brain tells us we may want to avoid that person. Here's a question: should we trust our initial physiological instinctive reactions, or should we give people a second chance and try to let them overcome their biology with their psychology?
    Normally, I'd say the latter, but these physiological reactions exist for a reason--self-preservation. Maybe these people aren't all axe murderers or evil geniuses, but what is the reason that our bodies react against them? Perhaps they aren't physically harmful, but psychologically, it's possible. Misery loves company, as they say, and these people we instinctively dislike may be psychologically harmful, if they are negative people, pessimistic people, or just unhappy people. The question is, does our biology pick up on this negativity and send a message to stay away from them so as not to pollute our own psychological well-being? Or am I just whistling dixie out of my ass to justify why we dislike some people?
    As much as I'd like to believe that we all have it within us to be kind and generous and good-hearted towards everyone and anyone, I do believe that there are some people that we will just never like. We may be able to be civil to them and put on a good face, but there will always be something about them that will rub us the wrong way.
    While there aren't too many people out there, I'm talking real people that you meet--not celebrities, politicians, or athletes--that I honestly dislike for whatever reason, there are a couple. I can get along with most anyone, and I try to. I hate confrontation, and I suck at arguments, so staying on people's good sides is something I work very hard at. But every now and again, there comes a person that I genuinely just don't like. I can never put my finger on exactly why. I can give reasons, they have a bad attitude, they're too cocky, they're disrespectful, etc, but those things are not the whole story. They're reasonable reasons for not liking someone, but the dislike goes beyond that. There is just something about them, a je ne sais quoi, but in a bad way, that turns me off about them.
    Clearly, I haven't really made much of an argument for either side of this topic, whether we dislike people for a real physiological reason or whether we make up reasons for why we dislike them, and then there's the further thought: do we trust our instincts about people or should we give them the benefit of the doubt?
    Personally, I think we do dislike people for physiological reasons sometimes, and when that happens, we ought to give them a second chance, or even a third, to redeem themselves. Sometimes they'll surprise you. But sometimes, you're not going to like them no matter how hard you try, and the most you can do is just be nice to them as best you can, and not let the negativity you get from them eat away at you.

Attraction or aversion: which is more easily overcome?

"I'll Have What She's Having."

    Why do we want we can't have? You order the grilled salmon at the restaurant, but once your friend gets his 12 ounce sirloin steak, you wish you'd ordered the steak. You bought the 32" TV in good spirits, but when your neighbor buys the 48" television, you kick yourself for not spending the extra money on a bigger set. You love your dog, but you can't help wanting to get another one, a puppy that will be oh-so-cute for a few months, just because he's new and different. I think we're getting close to the heart of it here: novelty. [Note: Title of this post taken from a line from When Harry Met Sally. Haven't seen it? You should.]
    Novelty is the reason so many people have so much stuff and spend so much money and want even more. Well, I know that I already have the new I-Pod, but they just put out another newer one, with a touchscreen, and 50 GB with video last week. It only costs $500. I just bought new shoes yesterday, but that girl over there has these awesome-looking pumps that I think I have to have for... $200.
    We like new stuff--that's not news. But is it because it's new, or is it actually an improvement on what we now have? In some cases, we do need an update on something. The stereo only brings in the radio if you stand really close to it? It might be time for a new one. Or at least a new antenna. The jeans you're wearing have holes in them and so many patches you can't even tell where the original fabric is? You may want to invest in a new pair.
    However, it's not these cases that are the issue. It's the cases where you have something that's perfectly good, works fine, serves its purpose, you still enjoy using/wearing it, but the new one just came out, or a cooler looking one just came out, and even though it's way out of your budget, and completely unreasonable to spend that kind of money on it, something inside you tells you that you want it--not only want it, but have to have it. You may even feel like you can't live without it--it's just so much more convenient and user-friendly and better than what you have now.
    I'm guilty of this "grass is greener" mentality as much as the next person. I constantly want what the person next to me ordered, to the point that I mooch off their plate all night. I have bought clothes that I didn't absolutely need for the reason that they were trendier or prettier-looking than something I already had. It's always a frustrating boat to be in, not having something you want, or worse, not being able to afford something you really want. I know how lucky I am to be where I am in this world and have what I have. Some of it I've earned, some of it I've received due to the generosity of others, or with the help of others, but I am grateful for what I have. It's just that sometimes, I do want the new shoes, or that incredible-looking steak on my dinner companion's plate.
    Perhaps it's biology, or evolution, to want what we can't have. It keeps us working hard, doing more, trying to have more, trying to make ourselves cooler, sexier, more attractive, interesting, intelligent--even if it's only in appearance, and not in actuality. [Digression: Appearance actually seems to play quite a large role in evolution and adaptation from what I understand--though I'm no scientist.]
    While the reason for wanting what we can't have may remain a mystery, with only speculation available as some kind of answer to it, at the very least, if we can recognize that we want something for its novelty rather than its necessity, perhaps we can scale that impulse back a little bit. Learn to do without. It probably won't happen, but awareness is the first step on the path to change.

You can't always get what you want. [The Rolling Stones]

Creation - Destruction

Thought we'd go with a cheerier topic today. Sort of.
    We'll begin with creation. What does it mean to create? We can procreate. We can germinate plants from seeds. We can write, paint, sculpt, and perform many other artistic endeavors. We cook. We design our outfits and our homes. Even a paper airplane is creation. It's taking something ordinary, like a seed, a lump of clay, or a particularly nasty math assignment, and turning it into something beautiful, useful or enjoyable, like a flower, sculpture or paper airplane. Maybe they don't seem that great to everyone, but we can feel that little bubble of joy that surfaces when we do something new and creative. Creation is a necessary component for many of us to continue to function in a non-hostile way towards everyone else. Creation makes us feel special and important, and sometimes, when we have the compulsion to create, creation is one of the only things that can make us feel normal in the face of chaos, frustration, and things beyond our control.
    As human beings, having a sense of control is a priority. It's evolutionary, in a sense. You lose control, you fall off the cliff and die, or get lost in the woods and eaten by the tiger. Having control over ourselves and our surroundings has gotten to the point where we have black-out shades so we can sleep when it's daylight out, and web browsing on our cell phones so we can always know what the temperature is in Phoenix even though we live in Chicago.
    Having control isn't a bad thing. It gives us a sense of stability in a constantly changing world. Control is useful. But creativity is a greater result of being ego-maniacal control freaks. While being a control freak creates order and stability for you--one person--creativity can affect and give enjoyment to many people. Creativity links us to others outside ourselves in a unique way. And creating positive things, for the benefit of others as well as yourself, can only be a good thing.
     And looking at the other side of things, it is perhaps paradoxical that destruction often gives us the same kind of satisfaction that creation does. Stomping through a pile of dead leaves in Fall is immensely gratuitous and self-serving, destroying the crunchy leaves with our shoes, but we do it anyway. Burning a fire, adding more and more wood, destroying the logs, fiber by fiber, is enjoyable not only for warmth or light, but perhaps also for how amazed we all are once we burned through the whole woodpile, and yet all that remains is a small mound of ashes and mostly destroyed, blackened logs.
    While, semantically, it sounds much better to create than destroy, some things maybe should be destroyed. Atomic weapons, for one. In any case, you should always create, unless your creation causes more harm than good. Like Molotov cocktails. Create positively, and create with the same joy and passion that a child builds a fort out of sofa cushions.

Rome wasn't built in a day.