This break turned out a lot different than I had expected. I thought Jersey would suck; I actually had fun. I thought I'd make more posts; I made one. I thought I would not work; Ended up working around 40 hours a week. I thought I would make progress on my design project; I did not. So all in all, what could possibly be my last real vacation was kinda fun.
Immediately after finals, went home to jersey. Even though I hate jersey, I love going home. Especially after finals when I'm tired, miserable, and seriously sleep-deprived. My family is pretty understanding about it, so atleast for the first few days I don't have to do much around the house. Just eat good food, drink good wine, and sleep all day. This was relaxing for a few days, but I needed some excitement.
So a couple days after Xmas, I rounded up some family friends and went to Harrah's in Atlantic City. We left pretty late and got there around 12 at night so it wasn't too crowded. Mostly just old people and career gamblers. Since this was my first time in a casino, it took a little while to orient myself to the different shit going on. I have a general hatred for traditional casino games where the odds are rigged against you..blackjack, craps, roulette, and slot machines. Fucking slot machines! Do people realize they're just burning money with those. Atleast with the other games, you have a sense of what your odds are. Slots are a complete fucking crapshoot.
I wanted to play poker, but since the guys I was with didn't know how to play I decided to find something else. Also, since it was pretty late I think they had stopped their sit-n-go tourneys. And I wasn't about to throw down 300 bucks at a cash game. especially not my first time in a casino.
So we walked around and I sat down at the lowest stakes blackjack table. Even though the min bet was only $15, the other guys at the table seemed to be loaded sharks. Everyone bets like $100, $300 etc and I put down my $15. Everyone looks at me like an idiot. Fuck you pal, maybe you should move to a higher table. Cards are dealt. I am nervous. I don't even remember what I had. I remember hitting but I think based on what the dealer was showing, I must've made the wrong move because the high rolling Asian next to me "tsks". I shoot him a dirty look. He seems unfazed. I lose the hand. I'm done with this table. Nothing felt right: I was nervous, there are high rollers at this minimum bet table tsk-ing me. So I get up and leave. We go to the bar for drinks. I get a rum and coke. It's a good one and it makes me feel real good. So we head back out. This time I ask where all the low stakes blackjack tables are and realize that there is another set of tables in another corner. So we head there. Min bet again is $15. I find a table with just a fat guy playing. Perfect.
This time I feel a lot more confident. I sit down with a $100. My friend sits down next to me as well. I win a few hands. My friend isn't having the same luck, so he cashes out what he's got left and they just watch. I'm extremely superstitious in these situations, so not wanting to jinx my luck, I don't look at him or say anything. I win a few more hands. I raise my bets. I lose a few here and there, but overall I'm doing really good. I was playing well but I have to admit, I was also getting pretty lucky on a few hands. I'm sitting in front of the fat guy, so my calls affect him a lot. He starts winning as well and he loves me. He starts talking.
FG: "Man, you're doin great"
Me: "Thanks"
"Play a lot?"
"First time"
He keeps talking.
"Me.. I'm from Connecticut"
"Oh. Long way. Aren't there a few casinos near you?"
"Yea, yea. But I don't like 'em. Vegas is my favorite, but I don't get to go out there that often. So instead I come here."
I hate talking when I'm having a good run, so I try to keep the conversation to a minimum. I think he gets the hint, but he keeps throwing in bits and pieces every once in a while. He sounds like a career gambler. He tells me that he already lost a grand, and is on his second one. I tell him I'm sorry. He laughs and says, "No worries. I'll make it back".
My luck holds up. Not so for him. He busts his second grand and plunks down another. This guy is already in for $3000; I'm sitting there with a stack that I grew from $100. As he lays down the $100 bills for the dealer to change, I want to kick him in the balls and call him a "degenerate fucking gambler" but I don't because I'm not Tony Soprano.
After sitting at this table for an hour and half or so, I start to level off. I'm not losing big, but I'm not winning much either. Plus, I need another drink. So I cash out: $475. Sick! The guy is sad to see me go because he thinks I'm lucky for him. I suppress the urge to remind him of the 2 grand. My friends are excited. They tell me that drinks are in order. I'm happy to oblige. We head to the bar and I feel like a pimp, so I get myself a Black Label. (I used to hate scotch, but after I turned 21, I have been offered it at family gatherings and it has grown on me.)
After a few more drinks, I want to go back out and play some more. Mind you, it is around 3 a.m. I have a decent buzz goin and I'm a lot more relaxed. So we head back to the same table. Fat guy is still there. But new to the table are two middle-aged women. One is pretty, the other is her fugly friend. There are 5 seats to each table. The fat guy is still on the 4th, I was on the 2nd, the bitches are on 1 and 3. I want my old seat but that would be awkward considering no. 5 is empty. No.5 is on the edge, it's the last position so there's added pressure when I hit or stay and I have to lean forward to see the dealer's cards. Overall it's not a good situation. I don't want to disturb the peace of the seating and I'm too much of a bad ass to walk away, so I sit down on 5 next to the fat guy. Fat guy is spilling over on his stool, so this pushes me farther to the edge. Not good. He's happy to see me back. I don't ask and he doesn't say how much he's in for now, but I can see a dwindled stack. Degenerate fucking gambler. I don't want to risk all my winnings, so I again play with a 100. This time I lose it in about 20 minutes. The odds finally caught up with me. The bitches won a little I think. Not enough to justify the eternity they spent on each call, and the retarded celebration/sadness that was put on display after each win/loss. Just not a good environment and I'm done playing so I cash out with the $10 that I couldn't bet anymore.
We're all hungry and get some food at the expensive restaurant. By now it's around half past 4, so we play some stupid games to get rid of the change chips and leave. I offer to drive back since the others have normal jobs and didn't sleep till the afternoon like I did. It's a long drive and they both pass out. I drop em off, pick up my car and drive home. It's past 7 when I get home and I pass out. Glad I finally got the casino crave out of my system; didn't hurt that I won some money.
Jan 24, 2008
Dec 24, 2007
What language do I think in?
This question has bugged me for ages and even as a bilingual person I still have no definite answer. I speak two languages fluently: English, and my native language, Malayalam. Even though I speak both fluently, the only one that I can comfortably read or write is English. Anyone who has heard me on the phone with my parents knows that I can switch seamlessly between the two, so I'm guessing the same would theoretically apply to my thought process as in I could probably switch easily between the two. Other than those, I have attempted to learn these languages at various points of my secondary school education: Hindi, Sanskrit, and Spanish. I can't construct a proper sentence in any of those, so the only reason I'm mentioning it is to illustrate that I am horrible at picking up new languages. (In fact, part of the reason I picked Engineering in college: no language requirement)I know English because that's what I've been learning at school since I can remember and I know Malayalam from family and growing up in an area where it was the main spoken language. Ok, so that's my background. Now back to the ten dollar question.
This will sound stupid, but I've tried to catch myself off-guard during thought to see what language I conduct my business in. Obviously this doesn't work because you can't fool yourself. (Unless ofcourse you're "The Todd").
Welcome back. As I was saying, tricking myself doesn't work because I'm not smart enough to outsmart me. So the next best thing I could do was just try to analyze the very basics of my thought process. When I'm faced with a decision how do I analyze the choices? How do I rationalize or try to make sense of something? . The best answer I can come up with is that I don't think in a language per se. I think more in terms of concepts. Rather than lengthy sentences, it is usually clusters of abstract objects. The more I thought about that, the more it made sense. I bet this is how everybody thinks, even the monolinguals. Spoken language is too clumsy for thought. Language was constructed for clarity and context at the expense of speed. When you're thinking to yourself, you know the context and there's no need for clarity. Thinking in languages would immensely slow down the thought process.
Imagine you're waiting in line to order food. You don't think "I don't feel like a burger. I'm gonna go for the nuggets". In your mind that entire line of thought happens in about second as "no burger, mmm nuggets" That's because you don't have to explain to yourself that you don't feel like getting the burger. You already know that. No need for clarity. This is different than when you're practicing something in your head before saying it. Obviously, then you're going to think like an actual drawn out conversation because thats what you're practicing for. The type of thinking I'm referring to is the decision making kind.
Anyway, if people actually read this, leave a comment about how you think you think and if you're monolingual, bi, trans etc. I basically want to know if my theory about conceptual thinking is correct.
Thanks.
This will sound stupid, but I've tried to catch myself off-guard during thought to see what language I conduct my business in. Obviously this doesn't work because you can't fool yourself. (Unless ofcourse you're "The Todd").
Welcome back. As I was saying, tricking myself doesn't work because I'm not smart enough to outsmart me. So the next best thing I could do was just try to analyze the very basics of my thought process. When I'm faced with a decision how do I analyze the choices? How do I rationalize or try to make sense of something? . The best answer I can come up with is that I don't think in a language per se. I think more in terms of concepts. Rather than lengthy sentences, it is usually clusters of abstract objects. The more I thought about that, the more it made sense. I bet this is how everybody thinks, even the monolinguals. Spoken language is too clumsy for thought. Language was constructed for clarity and context at the expense of speed. When you're thinking to yourself, you know the context and there's no need for clarity. Thinking in languages would immensely slow down the thought process.
Imagine you're waiting in line to order food. You don't think "I don't feel like a burger. I'm gonna go for the nuggets". In your mind that entire line of thought happens in about second as "no burger, mmm nuggets" That's because you don't have to explain to yourself that you don't feel like getting the burger. You already know that. No need for clarity. This is different than when you're practicing something in your head before saying it. Obviously, then you're going to think like an actual drawn out conversation because thats what you're practicing for. The type of thinking I'm referring to is the decision making kind.
Anyway, if people actually read this, leave a comment about how you think you think and if you're monolingual, bi, trans etc. I basically want to know if my theory about conceptual thinking is correct.
Thanks.
Dec 21, 2007
Dec 16, 2007
Finals
Final exams are the playoffs of the education system. They are at the end of the season(semester), you have to actually perform at a certain level during the semester to get there(for it to make a difference), and it has the potential to significantly change your outcome that year. You can't bomb everything during the semester and hope you make up for it in the finals. Most finals usually count between 25-40% of your grade; this means you have to go in with aleast a 35-20 average AND ace the final to make any difference(go from an F to a D). But for someone going in with a reasonable grade, a final has the potential to swing you anywhere from a D to an A.
It's unbelievable how much those two hours at the end of the year mean. That finals aura is palpable in the collective mood of the entire school. Everyone is tired, shabby, and rocking the coffee stained sweatshirt and/or the playoff stubble. Diet is mostly of the fatty and oily variety. Laundry machines and showers see very little action.
The main topic of conversation leading up to and during finals: "How many do you have?". You curse the guy who has none, silently rejoice in front of the poor bastard who has 5, and express your sympathy for the one who has consecutive 2-a-days.
You start off optimistic about a decent grade but as they go on, you slog through just praying for it all to be over. That feeling when you hand in that last one...joy isn't quite it; you're likely too tired to for joy or happiness. Relief is more like it. Done! Time to go straight home and crash.
That day can't come any sooner.
It's unbelievable how much those two hours at the end of the year mean. That finals aura is palpable in the collective mood of the entire school. Everyone is tired, shabby, and rocking the coffee stained sweatshirt and/or the playoff stubble. Diet is mostly of the fatty and oily variety. Laundry machines and showers see very little action.
The main topic of conversation leading up to and during finals: "How many do you have?". You curse the guy who has none, silently rejoice in front of the poor bastard who has 5, and express your sympathy for the one who has consecutive 2-a-days.
You start off optimistic about a decent grade but as they go on, you slog through just praying for it all to be over. That feeling when you hand in that last one...joy isn't quite it; you're likely too tired to for joy or happiness. Relief is more like it. Done! Time to go straight home and crash.
That day can't come any sooner.
Dec 8, 2007
So Damn Lazy...
Sad. I'm too lazy and unmotivated to post on here, an activity I created specifically to waste time. I suck at sucking. This is why I'm fairly confident that I won't ever commit suicide. It's too much work.
Nov 20, 2007
So I got a Blag
I used to hate blags. Mostly because I didn't think anyone would care that you found undigested peas when you peeked after you got off the throne. (Don't even deny it. Everyone does this).
Then sometime last semester, a friend of mine was telling me a story and told me to read his blag entry for the full scoop. I was studying for a fields exam and thought this would be a great way to procrastinate. It was. Reading blags now ranks in my "Top 5 Procrastination Tools".
Since then I've wanted to start writing my own. Maybe it's my generous nature that wishes to help other souls needlessly waste time instead of being productive. Maybe it's my arrogance that people will actually find my writing even mildly entertaining. I really don't give a shit.
Anyway, I registered on blagger over the summer.(Side note: Google will take over the world) For some reason I felt a weird urge to comment on the Clemens signing. I made one entry, hated it, but decided to leave it on there because I'm too badass to delete it.
Recently I started having rumblings about resurrecting this shit again. Not much of a resurrection considering I've made one shitty post. Whatever. Point is, I've got work to do, so to waste time, I'll start making pointless entries.
I don't know what I'll write about. I have a lot of random thoughts about a lot of issues, so I guess I'll start putting those in black and white. (I can guarantee a strong sprinkling of such cliches). These issues range from sports, highway driving, society, music, mactards, politics, drinking, religion, school, beerpong, TV, grammar,cops and punting babies. It won't be offensive, but it might offend some people. (Big difference).
One thing it won't be is a summary of my daily life because a) my life is very boring and b) who the fuck wants to read that?
mmm k? let's do this.
Then sometime last semester, a friend of mine was telling me a story and told me to read his blag entry for the full scoop. I was studying for a fields exam and thought this would be a great way to procrastinate. It was. Reading blags now ranks in my "Top 5 Procrastination Tools".
Since then I've wanted to start writing my own. Maybe it's my generous nature that wishes to help other souls needlessly waste time instead of being productive. Maybe it's my arrogance that people will actually find my writing even mildly entertaining. I really don't give a shit.
Anyway, I registered on blagger over the summer.(Side note: Google will take over the world) For some reason I felt a weird urge to comment on the Clemens signing. I made one entry, hated it, but decided to leave it on there because I'm too badass to delete it.
Recently I started having rumblings about resurrecting this shit again. Not much of a resurrection considering I've made one shitty post. Whatever. Point is, I've got work to do, so to waste time, I'll start making pointless entries.
I don't know what I'll write about. I have a lot of random thoughts about a lot of issues, so I guess I'll start putting those in black and white. (I can guarantee a strong sprinkling of such cliches). These issues range from sports, highway driving, society, music, mactards, politics, drinking, religion, school, beerpong, TV, grammar,cops and punting babies. It won't be offensive, but it might offend some people. (Big difference).
One thing it won't be is a summary of my daily life because a) my life is very boring and b) who the fuck wants to read that?
mmm k? let's do this.
Jun 9, 2007
Clemens' Start Pushed Back...Again
ESPN reports that Roger Clemens' much awaited return to the Yankees will be delayed again. The Texan flamethrower was scheduled to pitch today against the Pirates but has backed out because of "terrifying nightmares" that kept him up all night. Clemens added, "I'm almost 45 years old. At this age s**t like that can be extremely unsettling."
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