My Number(s)

I feel driven to write something because I just got a perfect score on an exam (also because it’s snowing outside, and snow makes me happy). The exam is the mini mental status exam to test for cognitive impairment (dementia). Ok it’s not a real “exam” per se, but it’s still my first perfect score all year. I took it because I was bored reading my psych notes, and Bam! 30/30 correct. Unfortunately, 30 is probably expected for a competent person. The link's not working, but here's the site i used. http://www.nmaging.state.nm.us/pdf_files/Mini_Mental_Status_Exam.pdf

This got me thinking though (not just because it was an exam): we are constantly being defined by our numbers. From the day we’re reluctantly dragged out of our mom’s uteruses, we’re given an APGAR score. Then every moment after that we’re defined by more numbers: age, height, weight, BMI, IQ, how many buffalo wings you can eat in one sitting (40). Our name, our gender, and our personality don’t really matter. We are nothing but a zip code, a telephone number, and a mailbox number. Institutions actually prefer defining people by number codes. What’s easier than identifying people by social security numbers or school ID’s? And no matter how much we hate 1,2,3’s, we have to use them over and over again for PINs, passwords (chicken bar code lol), and online purchases by credit card. In fact, one can argue that we spend our entire lives being slaves to numbers. We work overtime to pump up that bank statement, pay bills on time to get a good credit score, study for a great SAT score, and exercise for that low LDL/high HDL. But so what? Who cares if you’re GPA’s 4.00 and mine’s 2.00? Are you a better person if you make $100k more than me? I think it’s our competitive nature to try for a better score than everyone else. We are so focused on our statistical value, that we forget that we are so much more than just a pile of numbers. There’s no grading system for funniness, randomness, insightfulness, and love.

To be perfectly honest, I fudged the score on my mini mental exam. I actually got a 29 –I wrote the date as 2010 instead of 2011. And yes, that was the first question.

My New Year's Resolutions

Every New Year's, people ask me what my resolutions are. So I usually make some random resolution that I do not even intend on keeping just to make it seem like I’m trying to better myself. The idea of new year’s resolutions kind of perplexes me altogether. Why only wait to 1/1 to make a change? Why not make the change whenever you want? January first just feels like any other day to me. The only difference is that I have to write 2011 on my checks now. But every year we still get caught up in the hype and make ridiculous resolutions, which just leads to epic fails. Here are some of my past resolutions:

2008: Get buff
2009: Work out at least once a week
2010: Find out where my closest gym is

2008: Stop getting my parents angry
2009: Stop getting hit by my parents for things I do
2010: Buy a helmet

2008: Ty/pe with a lot les typos when for my emails and AIM chat
2009: Work on me grammar and cutt down on tipos
2010: #%#*&(*!><#@$>!

2008: Get all A’s
2009: Get one A
2010: start studying more

Ok for 2011, I resolve to not fail at my resolutions. So I’ve come up with a great list of achievable ones to jump start my awesome year.

1.) I will do less laundry and use more deodorant
2.) I will try to be less seductive
3.) Be funnier (What did the green grape say to the purple one? “Breathe! Breathe!”)
4.) Learn the complete lyrics for 1 song
5.) Travel the World
6.) Better time management =less espn
7.) Get a puppy one way or another

Speaking of pets… I’ll start the year with a hilarious joke about cats (they’re pretty much just evil dogs)

A gnome is in the garden busily destroying some bushes when a house cat appears. “What are you?” Asks the cat.
“I’m a gnome,” it replies, “I steal food from humans, I kill their plants, I make annoying music at night to drive them crazy, I have sharp nails to scratch the furniture, and I love mischief. And what, may I ask, are you?”
The cat replies, “Um… I’m a gnome.”