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where do bullshit studies rank as a cause of death?
August 24, 2009
Read an article the other day about a study that purports to prove that mature women who are optimistic are less likely to get heart disease and die of any cause in a given time period compared to women the same age who are more pessimistic.� The article used the old �do you see the glass as half-full, or half-empty?� wheeze as the tag.
So I got to thinking about where I fit into that.
Hmmm...what comes below pessimist?
I�m serious. The first thought I had was �the glass is empty�, followed almost immediately by �wait a minute�I don�t HAVE a glass�.
So where does that leave me? Dead of heart disease, I suppose.
Had a fairly quiet weekend:
We visited the new Wal-Mart a couple of times (stymied by throngs of slack-jawed yokels and a fakakta store layout, not very productive either trip), ended up going to Target to actually get what Spouse was looking for (a lap desk).
Went to the movies, and I responded to �Inglourius Basterds� much as I figured I would: meh, with a side of ick.
Did the usual fun stuff like scrubbing the bathroom, doing the laundry, and cooking.
Spouse worked on de-funkifying the pool�it has the murk. We kind of neglected it for a couple of weeks due to weather and being super-busy, and now we�re paying for it.
Small project--we went to work on the Retro-Rocket�s headlights, which were showing their age. Hazy and yellowed to the point where it was like driving with lampshades on them. But the $9.50 I spent on the headlight restoration kit (Turtle Wax) really paid off. I couldn�t believe the difference in how they looked when we were done. They really sparkled. And when I switched them on at 5:26 this morning�WOW! Like getting a new pair of eyes!
Oh, and after all the crap I went though trying to get hold of W with no success last week, and having to spend ninety dollars on the kennel bill because she didn�t even respond, let alone help me out�I got an email asking if I�d watch her dog when she goes on vacation.
Honestly, I�m about fed up. The only time they seem to know me anymore is when they need a favor (example: the last time I saw them was 4th of July, when they needed a hand putting their pool up). And they have the gall to be utterly unresponsive to emails, tweets, direct messages, texts, phone calls, or voice mails, and yet bitch on their Twitter feeds that nobody ever does anything social with them unless they initiate it.
Then there is the new ick factor: on the (increasingly rare) occasions I do see or speak to them, all they want to talk about is certain lifestyle choices they are into and frankly�TMI. I really don�t need to hear about anyone�s most intimate details, even if they are my best friends. �Accepting of your right to be yourself� does not equal �eagerly awaiting all the gory details�.
The worst part is�I should be able to tell them that this stuff is getting to me. However, they don�t handle criticism well, and they view the role of a friend as being someone who never criticizes them. We�ve gone around on that point in the past, and it has always painful and fruitless. More so as the years wear on, in fact. I am pretty much to the point where continuing the friendship is as painful as ending it, though; and I�m afraid this last little twist has put me right on the brink. Straws, camel�s backs, and all that. But after nearly 20 years, it�s a big thing to think about.
Reading: "Spinsters in Jeopardy", by Ngaio Marsh. Only a couple more Ngaio Marsh books to go�unless I find my missing copies, that is. Damn, that bugs me.
Surfing: Second Rate Snacks.
Listening: Elvis Costello, REM, Jackson Browne
At Random: click here
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