| intrōˈspekt |

I have felt quite introspective of late, both for what regards my political microcosm as well as the global state of affairs.

But it requires almost no time spent gazing at my navel to notice that the only hope i have for claiming balance in my life is by summing the parts of my totally polarized states of existence and then dividing by two: either too lazy to put on pants, or out running a marathon. eating spinach and lentils with a silver spoon or tearing into a pannetone with a claw like fist of passion. sequencing genomes or riding the metro in the opposite direction of my final destination.

I have been particularly confronted by my laziness these days. a couple weeks ago i broke the handle on the bathroom sink and immediately resigned myself to washing my face and brushing my teeth in the bidet. I'm really not an elitist when it comes to my water sources but there IS notably another bathroom just down the hall (too far) that wouldn't require me to stare into the eyes of the faucet that was intended for my ass. Actually it was during one of these moments of self imposed humiliation that it occurred to me i might consider the possibility of hiring a life coach; begging the question: at what point does one accept it's time for an intervention?

i guess a lot has happened in the world and also my private life since i last wrote. America is about to inaugurate a living meme for a President.  As a consequence, the Italians seem to enjoy rubbing their superiority in my face, highlighting the fact that there exists a nation worse than that which willfully placed Berlusconi in power (to which I respectfully riposte that their citizens are still those who are so unaccustomed to things going as planned that they rejoice/clap when the airplane lands.)

the whole affair reminds me of other things that funnel me into a vortex of despair, things like having my ankle sock fall down around my heel but being too imprisoned by circumstance to have the leisure of reaching down to pull it back up. Or the righteous attitude of the milanese with their pets in public. a couple days ago I encountered two older ladies engaged in a heroic battle of justice in a congested women's clothing store in Milan. It was immediately obvious in this case where I would land my metaphorical gavel on the table of jurisprudence. One of the two had allowed her tiny dog to take a shit on the floor and then tap dance in it, eventually leaving a trail of tiny shitty paw prints between the jewelry section and the exit. Not only that, but the dog owner was completely unapologetic and even defended her agnostic point of view claiming that she did not have control over her pet's continence. While this may be a very logical point, it doesn't take a particularly decent or educated individual to comply with the unspoken guideline that if you can't go out in public without leaving trails of excrement on the floor, you're better off staying at home. Perhaps in this sense I'm a bit old school. Anyway, lock them all up.

In other news, I recently returned from England where I was given the unlikely opportunity of interviewing for a clinical position at one of the most prestigious universities in the world (*horn toots*). All was set to go as planned, but in the face of all those skeptical eyebrows, I'm pretty sure I killed 2 out of my 3 hypothetical patients. No rejoice/airplane clap for this girl. I was evidently so stressed out that even my nasal herpes resurrected itself, effectively gluing my right nostril shut. And then I vomited, obviously not on the floor or to the tune of Justin Bieber, but still. The debacle served as another reminder of how unprepared people sometimes get elected to power while prepared people sometimes miss the mark. We are all born inanimate blobs of flesh. Brilliance is cultivated. You only get smart by constantly surrounding yourself with people who are in your mind brighter, stronger, more talented, more laden with character, and generally more successful than yourself. That's how you grow. But growth comes at a high price- a lifetime dedicated to humility, of being tirelessly committed to feelings of inadequacy. And perhaps it is only when we are confronted with the prospect of death that we are finally able to appreciate our conquests, our faculties. 

But I'll tell you, introspection seldom does much good and we're all better off just thinking like biological creatures about how to get our next meal. But if you must, may I recommend an even faster, more modern, and less risky approach to gaining insight into yourself, achieved by simply looking at your frequently used smartphone emoticons. Mine tells me I live in a perpetual state of cheekiness, reality, and irony:

 

Cheeky: Eye roll, myopic guilty as charged toothy smile, monkey who just stole your french fry

Reality: Dog, shit (see above), grimacing face, apathetic face, question mark (seriously though, WTF?!), turkey, embarrassed and exophthalmic

Irony: Moneybags, cool guy, bride (because the last gentleman to invite me to dinner was 24), round of applause (because I deserve more like a pat on the head), TOP (BOTTOM).

For what regards the jack-o-lantern and crocodile, I really have no words. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go pull up my socks.