Friday, January 6, 2012

Schrödinger's Cat and the Life of Unopened Possibilities.

Because I believe in higher education and the idea that there is an infinite amount to learn in the world so wouldn't you want to learn as much as you possibly can? I try to surround myself with people I can learn from. Since I haven't found too many super smart people in real life that don't get creeped out by me following them around gawking, in the hopes some of their intelligence will rub off on me -- [tip: you don't have to physically rub someone; it's more a figurative concept than a literal one. Trust me.] -- I am absolutely stoked to have stumbled upon The Big Bang Theory. I realize the television series has been on since 2007, but that is not the point. The point is, it's a show filled with just the geeky lovable types I yearn to hang out with in real life.

A couple nights ago (in a re-run that probably aired years ago), Sheldon mentioned Schrödinger's cat. Schrödinger was a scientist who sealed a cat in a metal box with a vial of poison that would kill the cat. Essentially, everyone knew the vial of poison was in the box with the cat but no one knew whether or not the vial would break, thereby killing the cat. The possibility existed that the cat could either die, or remain alive. No one knew until the box was opened.

On a most VERY BASIC LEVEL (save your hate mail, super intellegent beings, I'm not as advanced as you. Yet.) this meant that during the time the cat was sealed up in the box with poison, one could think of the cat as alive! [yay for positivity!] And one could think of the cat as dead. [oh, you glass is half empty Negative Nelly.]  The point is that both possibilities existed at the exact same time and would continue to exist until such time as the box was opened and the outcome actually revealed.

Schrödinger's experiment was really an illustration of superposition; a principle in quantum theory that occurs at the subatomic level - which honestly does not mean a lick to me, however, I couldn't help but immediately think of how often it occurs at our basic most emotional levels.


When you purchase a lottery ticket, the ticket can be thought of as the winning ticket at the same time it can be thought of as the losing ticket. It is only when the winning numbers are actually drawn - and the metaphoric box is opened, do both possibilities cease to exist and only true scenario remain.


You sit at your desk dreaming of a new job. The possibility exists that you could land a fabulous job and make twice the amount of money and work with an amazing group of awesome people at the same time the possibility exists that you could end up working for the devil with a bunch of creepizoids worse than the ones you're used to. Until you actually unseal the box and apply for the job, you will never know.

In a crappy relationship? Unsealing the box means actually leaving and finding out if you find the partner of your dreams or never get asked out on a date again.

It dawned on me how long we walk around with our boxes too afraid to open the lid. Because once we open the lid there is no turning back. It's the moment of truth. The cat's either alive or it isn't. But not knowing offers some comfort. Because we can trick ourselves into thinking the cat is still alive.

I mean, I don't blame anyone. It's hard to open that box and face the unknown outcome. I walk around with my own unopened boxes all the time because I'm just not ready to take the lid off. Sure, logically I know that if I take the lid off now and the cat is alive I get this fuzzy, fluffy, warm and cuddly kittie to enjoy and that's good, right? What a shame it would have been to be walking around with this unopened box when I could have been enjoying the cat all this time. And I also logically know that if the cat is dead, well, then at least I know I have to get busy digging a hole and bury it and move on. As disappointing as a dead cat would be, at least I would know what direction I was headed in.

I guess you can choose to spend your whole life carrying around a bunch of unopened boxes and unconcluded possibilities, but that isn't living the way your life was intended, that's just.... well, storage.

It's time to start ripping the lids off those boxes once and for all. What box are you going to finally open?

Open the box, people. Open the box.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Everyone needs a Shannon. And some Sharpies. And maybe even a cat.

I have a sister.

Her name is Shannon.

She's some sort of counselor/psychologist/social worker type person. I can never remember what her technical title really is because:

               (1) I'm totally distracted by the fact she can put a bunch of capital letters after she signs her name - that is so freaking cool! and,

               (2) I also tend to get totally distracted that someone who once brought the farm goats inside our house to give them spa treatments is allowed to be responsible for the mental health of human beings. They got loose and ran wild throughout the house half-shaved (she was giving them a new look) and scared out of their wits. Do you know that goats drop a lot of turds when they are scared out of their wits? Also, they are incredibly speedy galloping up and down staircases.

I'm always like what advice do you actually give? 
"I don't know... I just feel stuck. Like, I'm just sitting here waiting for something and... I dunno... watching life pass me by...."

"Perhaps you should consider coordinating a song and dance routine to 'Daddy Sang Bass' and force your siblings to perform it in Aisle 7 at the local Piggly Wiggly."
Anyway. She gets me. She just doesn't want to say it out loud. More than likely because she's just like me but she's scared to face the truth. Face your fear, Shannon, face your fear. 

Today I posted this on my sister's Facebook Wall so all her friends can see how magical our relationship is. (I know, I'm kind of surprised she hasn't blocked me yet, too.) Before you read you should know that I recently sought her advice on how I could learn to be more positive and not so negative and critical all the time.

I just wanted you to know that my ultra fine point blue Sharpie has been used! I know this because whoever used it SMASHED THE
POINT! (I know you know what I mean.) I believe I am currently experiencing a psychosomatic reaction that includes rapid heartbeat,
dizziness, and irrational amounts of anger. Perhaps you should do your thesis on this particular phenomenon. You might even get a
recognized syndrome named after you: i.e., Werf Syndrome: a psychosomatic illness that causes rapid heartbeat, dizziness, and 
irrational levels of anger when an individual is exposed to a Sharpie whose point has been softened and smashed by an unknown idiot 
who obviously doesn't respect the Sharpie. (Say that last bit with a British accent; it sounds so much more distinguished.)
    • Her name is Shanno
      Shannon Symptoms also experienced when one finds an UN-CAPPED Sharpie. All its potential lost. Dried up before its time. So very sad.
      3 hours ago ·

    • Bridget That's like the equivalent to finding a dead kitten on the side of the road. Makes my heart hurt just thinking about it. Especially if it was once a bright red Sharpie. Or once a fluffy white kitten.
      3 hours ago ·
    • Shannon You and kittens lately. We might need to increase the therapy time.
      3 hours ago ·

    • Bridget They're just so fluffy and cute... but then I remember they also have teeth and could easily rip someone's face off. But they have the POTENTIAL to be cuddly and sweet and so entertaining when they bat that little feather on a string toy around.... Besides. It's not like my heart aches when I see a dead possum by the side of the road. That's like finding out some kid chewed on your wooden pencil. It's just gross.
      3 hours ago · 
    • Beth  You two totally crack me up!
      2 hours ago ·
    • Shannon  Seriously. Re-read your post. You don't find anything just a bit 'off' with it. Nothing? I do believe last night's topic was 'negativism'. So great work identifying fluffy, cute and sweet. I think we need to work on staying in that moment just a bit longer.
      2 hours ago ·

    • Bridget Which post? There's just so many to choose from.... in my defense, I don't think identifying possum roadkill as gross is negative. Unless the possum was like super sweet or something. Like the matriarch of a whole possum nation - but not a mean, stuffy matriarch like you'd see in 18th century England, rather an unselfish, caring matriarch of the poor and downtrodden - like Mother Theresa. Because there's no animal more downtrodden than a possum. Unless you consider the downtrodden animals of Manor Farm... "FOUR LEGS GOOD, TWO LEGS BAD!"
      about an hour ago ·

    • Bridget  ‎"All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others!"
      about an hour ago · 

    • Bridget  ‎"I will work harder!"
      about an hour ago ·

    • Bridget  Okay. The Animal Farm quotes will stop. But can you imagine how much fun it would be to write out those quotes with an ultra fine point blue Sharpie?
      about an hour ago · 
    • Shannon  Oh if only you could see how many shades of blue I now own thanks to Emily and Heidi. Be jealous. Very, Very jealous.
      about an hour ago · 

    • Bridget  I think I'm more jealous now than I was of your 6" high bangs in high school. I swear, no matter how much Aqua Net I used - nothing.

Also, Shannon is way, way obsessed with Sharpies. I think she's planning a room addition to her house just to store her inventory. I'm only normally obsessed. There is a difference. Albeit a slight one.

Also -- do goats really gallop?

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

"Maybe we can recycle kittens after they're dead."

In honor of the current and upcoming political nonsense...
(something about Sarah Palin's new hair style?)

and also because I work in government 
and this is (sadly) pretty dang accurate....

and also because I don't have anything to post about 
but this made me laugh out loud.
Like, really loud...

I've decided to share this video with you 
(which was shared with me earlier today by a pretty awesome lady 
who happens to live in a house the size of a Subaru, 
but that's beside the point)....

Green Bay City Council discusses kittens.

I'm cool. The hell with kittens. 

This blog is dedicated to my  seemingly one (and only) reader:
Johi at Confessions of a Corn Fed Girl

Because she actually missed my blog posts.

And then posted something on my facebook.

Which made me think:
 why does she have all this time to harass me on facebook?
Shouldn't she be practicing her guitar for her upcoming video blog?