Here's to everyone - have a Happy Thanksgiving! Remember to be thankful! :)

And here's your lolcat:

Xanga will, once in a while, ask me if I want to become a premium member. I politely decline. It's offer wasn't that good, anyhow. I get more space, and the ads go away - I don't upload that many pictures, and I have a trick for the advertisements.

That's what this public service announcement is all about! I would like to educate you on a wonderful browser named Firefox and all of it's available addons!

The very first addon that I would like to mention is a very handy one, named Adblock Plus. Adblock Plus has the ability to block any kind of image/frame/flash advertisement that you would see floating around on the internet. Once installed, it will ask if it can enable a list of already known adverts and block them for you! If you manage to find ones that aren't already blocked you could simply right click on them and select "adblock". Presto, the ads are gone! I've been using it for a while now, and I haven't seen an ad in months.

With this in mind, I use it to block the ads on Xanga - not to be harsh on this wonderful (and free) service, but everytime I see some sort of invasive, blinking advertisement on my blog page, something cute inside me dies. But now, that hardly ever happens!

Since I'm on a roll, I'll state some other nice addons that I use regularly. Another favorite of mine is Read It Later. Read It Later enables you to select pages that you wish to view sometime in the future, but not at the moment. You can store as many as you want, and it will save you from cluttering up your favorites with unnecessary links that you will end up deleting anyway. You can also view the saved pages offline - so while in a plane, a train ride or even a long drive, you can pull out your laptop and start reading away! Very handy on news websites.

DownThemAll is a handy download manager/accelerator built into Firefox - my downloads (I would guess) are 15% faster, and there aren't any errors yet!

Cooliris is something I use fairly often, especially when looking for a good picture. Cooliris will open as a separate program within Firefox, displaying a completely new window that enables the user to browse through hundreds of pictures and videos with ease - it's also very cool looking - lots of eye candy! I would warn, however, that it is a bit of a resource hog, so you best have a fast computer.
 
To reiterate: Firefox is a very wonderful browser to use. Those of us who would like to maximize their Internet browsing efficiency ought to be using it! There are many more addons availble than I just mentioned - I'm sure there's at least one that everybody would like to use that would make their lives much easier.

For me, Adblock Plus is a life saver. My eyes will never have to be offended again (at least, not for very long), and I can feel more at ease knowing that those who happen to use my computers wouldn't fall for the, "Oh wow, click here to win the planet Mars and four million dollars cash"- style tricks. My mom has.

Preguntas?

It's true, and I'm sure you've understood the concept before. But mentioning an apparent oxymoron in the same sentence is always fun and thought-provoking! :)

I was recently interviewed by my younger brother for one of his high school classes, public speaking. His project was to interview 5 individuals at different stages in their respective lives about their education and their (future) profession. I sat down with him Sunday afternoon after church, and he made ready some interview questions. He only needed one, though.

His first (and last) questions was: What do you plan to do after you get your Bachelor's degree in science?

I thought about that for a few seconds, and realized that a storm of organized words were assembling in the back of my mouth, ready to be led out marching. I was never asked a question this specific, but this broad at the same time. When I think of it now, I suppose I could have answered this in a few simple sentences.

But instead, I went on to say something like;

"That all depends on several factors that will occur in the near future. I find myself more sure of my passion of science, and in particular, microbiology. This is where I invest most of my time and resources in, especially in the classes I take at my university.

After taking a student internship at Pfizer, I realized that life isn't about dancing with toothbrushes in your underwear. It's about a constant state of self-improvement and aspiration. Everyday must be a noble struggle with yourself and the things you want to improve in yourself, with your future, your family's welfare and passions in mind. Facts must be learned, talents must be gained and different experiences must be plentiful. How would you feel if you looked back at the last 4 years of your life and realized that nothing as changed?

I looked at my mentor and friend (who helped recruit me into Pfizer for that summer), and watched how he ran his life. Being married for six years, he is still relatively young, but decided against having children until he finishes his Master's degree. He owns his own house, lives with his wife, and has two cars. But no children yet - his choice was smart and considerate. I would probably do the same. He is working on his degree as we speak, and his time for a family isn't far.

I observed my favorite professor at my university, Dr. Adams, who also happens to be the head of the Biology Department. He has two PhDs, a Master's Degree and a PostDoc - and he loves what he is doing at every moment. I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice whenever a student approaches him with a question. Sometimes, I'll ask questions merely to make him happy.

I've been watching Dad since I could remember - his passion for learning never seems to end, does it? Always asking questions, always inquiring, always learning... it never stops. But that's the beauty of it. These observations led to one of my very important life-conclusions.

I want to be on the cutting edge of science, in exploratory biology. Kind of like Star Trek, but on a micro scale, going where no man has gone before. I want to be intrigued about things like, 'What happens if I add this compound to the cells?' or 'How can I perfect my assay for this cell line?'. The previous summer taught me that research takes patience, endurance, and a creative and knowledgable mind - I believe I posess these characteristics, don't you think? Our discoveries may help save peoples lives years from now. I am a ripple in the water that becomes a wave.

My other passion lies in teaching, and sharing knowledge with those that are willing to learn. I realize now, in retrospect, that I've been teaching people all my life without ever realizing it - and I've always enjoyed it immensely whenever I could see comprehension in their eyes and feel their appreciation for such efforts in doing so.

It's like letting someone in on a beautiful secret, whispering it into their ear, and watching their eyes twinkle with wonder and enthusiasm. I hear their minds speaking; Astounding - what will happen if I learn more? and What does this mean for me? I enjoy teaching so much that I actually took two students under my wing to teach them how to play the piano, using my old piano books, for no charge. We meet once a week, for half an hour, and I show them how to tickle the ivories. In return, they show me, with their best efforts, that they can succeed no matter what. I am a selfless storm.

I want a little bit of both worlds, you see. I want to teach, and I want to discover. After approaching Dr. Adams last week and asking him about his inspirations, my mind and heart became convinced. Being a professor in a university would be something that would make a content heart - I can teach my passions to those who are passionate, and I will also have the opportunity to make a name for myself through research.

These all depend, however, on the future's unpredictable biases. Professorship typically requires a PhD, in which years of work need to be dedicated to achieve. A Master's Degree is also possible, and secure myself a position in a pharmaceutical giant, like my mentor, who was accepted with a single degree and several years lab experience with retroviruses. Hopefully, in the near future, I will be married to my fiance, who is almost finished with nursing school.

Time will tell the future - time is the best storyteller. Whatever my passions become, whether a profession or a dedicated hobby, they will remain. Personally, I hope that I can teach professionally, but again, we will see. For now, I am dedicating my time to my education to see that the former becomes true."

I Teach, therefore I Learn.

Good morning,

It is most unfortunate that I've been unable to post something really thought-provoking of my own in the past few days. Classes can be unforgiving, and this week was no exception.

I have an exam tomorrow morning, but I find myself with a few hours at hand to take a break with. After talking with a friend two nights ago while we made dinner (some very tasty spaghetti), I found myself stumbling onto the topic of talking about how I started to become an extrovert with the roundabout desire to help.

Today, I call myself an extrovert because it fits my definition of what an extrovert is. My definition of an extrovert (if you remember several posts back) is someone who draws strength and power from speaking in front of a crowd, and comes away infused with a strong desire to lead. In a sense, one becomes almost fearless.

I say "roundabout" desire to help because I want to differentiate myself from some other extroverts that I know. Why I want to do this is simple: the particular people I'm thinking of have what I like to call "power trips", and they like telling people around a bit too much for my liking. They take their leadership position for granted, and they lose their sense of humor and the ability to sympathize.

I will explain how I became a different person in the following.

Enable Narrative Mode

My short story takes place in high school, senior year. It was toward the end of the year, when I would graduate with my class. I belonged to one social group in my high school, and that was the orchestra.

I was a very quiet kid. I was the smart lab-rat in the back with neatly combed hair that usually kept to himself unless someone spoke to him. Regardless of whom he spoke to, he spoke quickly and quietly with a sort of humor that only he could understand, punctuated by awkward giggles immersed in a slurred speech.

He was a kind soul, and only intended well. He wished fervently that he had more friends to acknowledge him, however. Sometimes he felt that no one looked at him. Every time a holiday would come, he would have to force his hopes down from ever rising, because no one would send him a rose on valentine's day, a spooky card during Halloween, or a gift for the new year. He liked to believe that it didn't bother him, and he lived on in his own reality with his books.

Then came senior year - his pride, his joy and his moment were coming, though he did not expect them to. It was almost June, and the dashing red robes of accomplishment were starting to be purchased.

This young man wasn't without dreams. He wanted to be someone unique and different in people's eyes. He wanted to be more. He wanted to matter. He wanted to be a source of inspiration and comfort, just as he wished someone would do for him. Not to everyone, but just to someone. Just one person. He wanted to matter so much that it killed him inside whenever he would greet someone and his words would never reach them. He hurt so much not only because he was largely left alone, but because he could see something that others frequently overlooked - their pain, their problems, their desperate circumstances and tribulations. He wanted to help them, but only met closed doors.

You matter to me! This was a common thought inside our young man thought frequently. It didn't matter who it was - he was the nadir, and everyone in his eyes was someone he could, and would, help.

He played the violin, and the piano. He favored the piano over the violin, and practiced often. He would play songs like Rocket to the Moon, Angel Eyes and various compositions from classical authors like Beethoven, Vivaldi and Mozart to musically express himself in a way that words wish they could do. From his perception, his musical emotion would make his ears became the envy of every sense. He would get lost in her beauty every night. Little did he know that this small talent would be his instrument of triumph and vindication.

During one such practice session, Mr. Aubin, the band director and orchestra conductor, approached the young man and asked him if he would like to play a senior solo during the final concert of the year. To the young man, Mr. Aubin had always been somewhat comforting because of their similarities. He was also observant, mindful, interpretive and considerate. The young man replied quickly with an affirmative. Moments later, however, he wondered why he said yes so quickly. He doesn't like large, judging crowds and his hands become cold and shaky when he was nervous. Did he make the right choice?

Soon came the musical concert at the end of the year - the last one our aspiring hero would play in. Mr. Aubin gave the extra responsibility to the young man of opening the concert. "Is it okay if you play first?" he asked. The young man had no choice but to accept - he didn't want to let Mr. Aubin down. Mr. Aubin must have noticed how nervous the young man was, and leaned in close. He said to not worry, because he knew that I was an excellent pianist. Play like you would play if no one was here. Don't think about it - just let your hands do what comes naturally.

Several pounding hearbeats and several hundred entering guests later, the young man sat at the edge of his bench, his fingertips on the ivory keys. Mr. Aubin announced to the crowd that they would open with my solo, Lake Erie Rainfall by Jim Brickman. A shaky smile. An applause from the crowd. Then expectant silence.

For just a moment, our young man thought about how nervous he was - about how there were so many people with their eyes on him at this very moment, how cold and clammy his hands were, and how that the most minor slip up would be immortalized forever on their video recordings. Their stares were unrelenting, and he could feel burning holes in his side. He wanted to run off the stage and go home to his books.

But... he wanted to matter.

Suddenly he decided to follow Mr. Aubin's advice and chose not to think. He slowly started to play. As his performance wore on, he became increasingly more sure of himself . He played with greater power.

Soon, the young man found his inner peace. The music soared out through his instrument as a strong but controlled wave of pure wanting, offering, encouragement and imagination. His heart filled the giant, archaic room with the power of his music - himself, secure in the eye of the storm, drenching everyone with his emotion.

It reached in every direction; tendrils of optimism, around every wall, through every soul, and into every dark corner. Not one was left that didn't hear the magic of Lake Erie Rainfall.

There was one last chord to play. In his world, the young man played it slowly, reluctantly, but genuinely. It emanated quietly throughout the room. It was played softly, like an evanescent kiss.

The young man slowly opened his eyes. He didn't hear anything. Before he could turn his head though, the crowd erupted into a mass of cheering praises, and an almost manic applause. The torrent of noise was so sudden and unexpected, it took a moment for the young man to stand up and take a bow. Mr. Aubin, over the microphone, announced the young man's name and asked the audience to give it up for Josh!

When he finally walked off the stage, the audience was still clapping. Complete strangers came up to him and shook his hand on a job well done. Fellow orchestra players that normally made cruel jokes looked choked on their words. Several people looked as if they were about to cry when they said that the music was beautiful.

Every face was smiling. Every face was a beautiful one. Every mind was filled with a happiness that I helped supply - I helped them feel good about something. I helped them adjourn from the world of responsibility for a moment to enjoy something simple.

I mattered. I touched hearts. What could be better than this?

 

Hello there,

I feel bad about not posting something for a few days, so here I am again. The comments are really piling up on my previous post, and it gives me the sensation that readers are waiting for something. I felt a little inspired too, so don't worry. :)

I would like to discuss the power of the human imagination.

For some reason, my brain decided to recall a random memory from high school. This was a strange memory, because it involved myself watching a strange movie in a strange class (aka, High School English). <As a very short aside, did you ever notice that most English teachers, despite the nature of their profession, never give even a slight amount of room for interpretation? I remember being awfully confused back then.>

I do not recall the name of the short film (maybe someone will recognize it when I describe it), but it took place during the Civil War. I'm terribly sorry, but my narrative skills aren't very honed. I'll attempt to tell the story as I remember it.

Enable Narrative Mode:

The film started with a young man being led by armed men across a bridge. It was obvious from the start that this man was going to be executed.

Sure enough, there's a noose hanging off the side of the bridge. They intend to use it to break his neck when they push him off the side. As they wrapped the rope around his neck, there are tears welling up in his eyes. He was thinking of his wife. The armed men moved slowly and casually, making sure that everything was set to kill - the surrounding forest was uncharacteristically quiet. All that was heard was the young man's ragged breathing and sobs.

The moment to push him off the bridge came no sooner than expected, only what happened was not expected by anyone: the rope failed! Half way down, the rope ripped itself apart and the man fell into the river, still alive.

The armed men who intended to kill him by hanging noticed this immediately and decided to substitute it with shooting. They fired with their rifles into the water, trying to hit the young man who was rapidly swimming away as fast as he could. At this point, the young man was so amazed to be alive that he did absolutely everything to keep it that way. He thrashed against the water desperately, moving downstream. He eventually made it far enough were he lost the armed men through a series rapids and hit a small beach head. He crawled up the sand very slowly, digging up chunks of it as he made fists. His body was shaking - not because of the cold water, but because he was laughing in joy.

<I remember at this point that the young man focused on something here... I can't remember whether it was a bug on a leaf or something like that, but the purpose of this scene was clear - he only noticed how beautiful nature was when he believed, moments ago, that he was going to die.>

The young man knew the armed men will still pursuing him - he forced himself up. He began running through the forest in the general direction of his home.

He eventually found his way to a dirt road, which he followed for what seemed several miles. The young man was laboring down the path, one foot in front of the other, completely exhausted. The thought of his wife though, kept him moving.

Staggering down the path, leaning against trees as he passed them, he finally saw the beginning of the land he owned, and also his house. He also spotted someone exiting the front door - his wife. She never looked so beautiful.

At this point, the young man starts running toward her, slowly at first, but increasing in speed. His wife sees him and recognizes him, and arbitrarily smiles. The film repeated this same sequence, thrice, in succession: the young man running to his wife, holding his arms out, a relieved smile on his lips, dying to be embraced. His wife, arms open with the a sincere and understanding smile, waiting for him. Closer. And closer.

And then, very abruptly - as the man touched his wife's cheeks, he suddenly keeled over and let out a strangled, and surprised, scream.

The scene changes. His neck was broken. The young man is dead, hanging below the bridge, above the river. The armed men walked casually away.

End Narrative

I'm aware that is a lot to read, but what do you think of that? Amazing, isn't it?

This post was inspired by several users recalling their dreams, particularly silentautumnlife's latest post. I am impressed by the amount of detail in her recollection - I'm usually unable to recall any of my dreams.

Por ejemplo - suppose you had a dream last night that, through a maze of plots, thoughts and crazy fictional characters, ultimately taught you an important life lesson. Moments later, you then wake up only to discover that none of what you dreamed ever really happened - is the lesson you learned any less real? Is the resulting message any less tangible?

My point is the same overall: your mind's capabilities are justifiably endless, and this is why humanity is unrelenting in it's quest for knowledge. You all have this power.

Please take from this what you can, and feel free to throw your own thoughts, comments or experiences in!