Slow days

I keep not writing, and in this I'm falling down in my commitment to this blog, which was originally to write, and to write something, anything, every day. Now that I am writing more for a living, I am arguably living up to the side of doing something by way of word production, for the sake of word nimbleness, every day.  I have, for instance, published 55 more "serious" blog entries over at Seeking Alpha (ps. if you have a sec, go there, register with the site, and become a "follower" of mine.  I need more)  where I alternate between being a shill and an asshole.  I have also published probably 200 pages of proprietary research about various facets of the life insurance industry, about which I'm learning more and more, and which can be interesting for a certain number of hours per week.

And so I blog a little less here, have a little less time for the deep thoughts.

Yesterday I caved in and went to Gretchen Rubin's "Happiness Project" web site and perused for a few minutes, then put her book on my Amazon wish list. Gretchen and I were in college together, and I'll confess to being jealous of her, and have often thought that having the free time that comes with marrying the son of a former Treasury Secretary certainly helps with happiness. But on her site she did show some generosity, some wisdom, some insight, and I generally find that getting over these petty jealousy things is better than harboring them.  So I'll read the book.  Or, as I do with many books, I'll give it 60-70 pages to speak for itself. Though (any family members reading, note that there are items prioritized higher on my Amazon list!).

Right now Mary and I are in the middle of watching Summer Palace, a 2006 Chinese movie about young lovers in college.  Lots of sex, really realistic (not pornish, but reminds me of having sex in college when hormones and emotion blend).  In general, so far it is the best film depiction of college romance I have ever seen. The bliss, the petty infighting and cheating on your lover to get back at them, the incredible attachment to one's lover and the catastrophe of break up, it reminds me of me.