Apologia

a·pol·o·gy
n. pl. a·pol·o·gies

1. An acknowledgment expressing regret or asking pardon for a fault or offense.
2. 1. A formal justification or defense.
   2. An explanation or excuse: “The consequence of those measures will be the best apology for my conduct” (Daniel Defoe).
3. An inferior substitute: The sagging cot was a poor apology for a bed.

Yesterday (technically today), I wrote a post that was pretty harsh towards a particular person whom I care deeply about (perhaps more than anyone else I know). After re-reading my initial post (after an hour-long phone call), I can easily see how it could be construed to be so mean, thoughtless, and downright cruel. I am deeply sorry for my poor choice of words and context. This blog was a wonderful gift that had a lot of time and effort put into it, and I would be a supreme asshole to disacknowledge that or brush it so hastly aside.

To put it in other words:
ass·hole
n. Vulgar Slang

1. The anus.
2. A thoroughly contemptible, detestable person. (that's me)
   
3. The most miserable or undesirable place in a particular area.
   

They say apologies should be "short and sweet," but I've got more to write.

I guess if we were talking scales here, most people would say that Stalin/Hitler/Mao(insert-your-own-dictator) was THE supreme asshole of all time. But see, I think the designation asshole is far more specific than simply name-the-genocider. Being an asshole is more like a personality-designation, and I'm sure that somewhere, someone out there was much more of an asshole at some point than the more famous ones we can rattle off without thinking. But I think we can all be assholes, sometimes for a long time, sometimes just on ocassion. Why do we do it? Some use the excuse of circumstance, i.e. "I'm having a bad day, finals are in a week, etc." This is the first thing I always do, but inside I know that it's just me avoiding my responsibility to those that I hurt. One of the hardest things we have to do in life is pay up when we fuck up.

Every time I get in my car I always imagine how much my life can change if I'm in just the wrong mood, or sleepy, or screwing with my stereo and I suddenly hit a child or person who ran out in front of me. Imagine how your life might change, completely. "What a horrible thing to think about, such morbid thoughts!" you might think, but I would point the finger back and say that by considering the ramifications of my actions, I always make the maximum effort to avoid it. Thus, I've never been in a car accident with another moving vehicle. This from the guy who got a D- in drivers ed.

I guess I'm paranoid. I really get paranoid and envision all sorts of threats and conspiracy and motives amongst all the people that I know when they don't even exist. Because I got paranoid and started to assume that everyone had something against me. One of my accomplishments this year (up to now) has been to avoid these thoughts. It's certainly helped with my social life here. It's not a mental disease or anything, but just a defect in my personality. Oh well.

I don't have much else to really talk about. Thermodynamics is very confusing this week, but that's the way it goes. I can't figure out why my equilibrium constants are so low for problem 9.14 in Koretsky. It's a pretty good undergrad thermo text, but even it can get a little dry. So it goes. I didn't go out tonight precisely because I wanted to get more thermo done for tommorow, but I doubt any more thermo is going to be done tonight. It's too late to go out anyways, but I'm glad I stayed in. A lot of people don't understand, but I really like having Friday evenings to myself. I feel like Saturdays make better days for unwinding. I just laze around the apartment and sporadically do homework and read my big European History book. I love that book. I can't think of a history book I've enjoyed more in the past 3 years.