Random Variable:

A variable whose outcome is uncertain." definition from Wooldridge text

Just felt like saying one more thing. I don't believe that a person can really choose to be random. Not on their own. Like, I might say something that you think is a random, non-sequitor, but given my train of thought, & all of those things that I just plain don't say, it turns out that random isn't random. For example, I was thinking of something the other day, while standing next to a friend of mine, & I just said, out of the blue, "I've never been in a Turkish prison." He, naturally, did a comical double take of amused confusion, but it made total sense to me. Not random for me, but yes for him. I couldn't possibly be random if I actually tried to be.

I had a friend, I think it was in high school, that wanted to see how random they could actually be by listing numbers from 1-100 in various intervals, recording them, & then doing the stats that would determine if he had computer random-status, or if he were subject to the natural pattern seeking nature of man. Yeah, that was kind of weird.

Most people, when told to scatter randomly, will actually try to put equal distance between them and the people around them. Yeah, that's not random. It would be better for someone to be standing extremely close to their buddy, or to start running with their eyes closed while singing the fight song, alternating between directions based off of whether the word starts with a consonant or not. But even that has a pattern.

Something that I find amusing is that when I try to explain to someone that good, human randomness can't be planned, they inevitably will say something like "refrigerator" or "banana" or "purple!". Those are perhaps the most common responses. Again, those being the most common responses means that, you guessed it, not random. I laugh.

Take that in mind; I cannot choose to be random. But, I can withhold information, thus making my speech appear to be random. I hope that this will explain to some extent why it is that the last paragraph of my last post actually isn't random. & I was just a little serious with that bit about the spatula...

I don't care if it hurts,

...I wanna have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice
when I'm not around
You're so f^@%!&' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here" Creep, Radiohead

Oh, grad school. It's been, what... 3 weeks? 4? Let me actually check. This is the 5th week. It feels as though no time has gone by, but at the same time-- 5 weeks is super long. & it hurts. I had this song stuck in my head for the first week or two, at least, just because it echos much of the inadequacy & emotions that were swarming through my brain like so many variables in a dataset; unorganized, raw power waiting to be harnessed if only the right programmer would come along... When I get super frustrated/anxious, when emotions flood my system, when so much is asked of me in so little time, I tend to shut down. Usually not everything, but the parts that are hurting the most. Like, if I start to cry, I automatically block myself from whatever it is that triggered it, & continue on in a somewhat detached manner. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. They get dammed behind some emotional barrier. The problem is that doing that, even though it's mostly subconscious, takes a lot of energy. & that barrier isn't indestructible. I don't always get control, even though I very much want to have that. So any little thing, or linear combination of things, or geometric combo--I won't discriminate-- may set me over my limit.

Other times, when I want to be able to feel something, anything, to know that I am alive,... I can't. I just want to bleed to know that my heart is still pumping. It reminds me of the Robert Frost poem, "Choose Something Like a Star": "say something, & it says, 'I burn!'"... Even right now, I can tell that I am being stretched awkwardly into something (hopefully) better, but I'm too exhausted to go on. I should be setting aside all of this stress & plowing forward with my assignments, but my brain is 5 minutes away from frying out like it did 2 weeks ago. So what do I do? start typing nonsense on a public forum for close friends & complete strangers & awkward creepers alike to judge me with...

"I want you to notice
When I'm not around..."

Looking for internships terrifies me. I don't know whether to limit my search to one area of the US or another, or even if anyone would want me. I desperately need a break, a sabbatical, but I think that I first just need to prove that I deserve one. I'll try not to get in a school-coma this semester. Even making it to the end of this month is going to be the accomplishment of the season... All I really want is for someone to give me a spatula...