Tuesday, December 12, 2006
The women in my life
The way these nanothings work apparently means they only work between members of the opposite sex, which leads me to a few idle questions. LIke, what if someone with a weird genetic structure ingested them? You do, on occasion, get people with an extra X or Y chromosome. I asked Maggie what she thought of that one; she thought that such people are rare enough that it wasn't likely to happen, but if it did, the computer probably wouldn't be able to map the "paired" brains properly, much like she suspects it can't find the appropriate correspondences between two male or two female brains.
Then there's the transexuals. Someone who has had sexual reassignment surgery would probably still be their original sex, although it's possible they'd just be immune, depending on how much structural change their hormone regimens created. It's an area where there's not a whole lot of research, just because it's taboo in a lot of cultures.
The other thing I notice is that pretty much all of my friends today are women. I've always had female friends, but the only male friends I've made in the past few years are boyfriends, mine and those of my friends. I don't think it's the "guys only have one thing on their mind" thing; I know what an oversimplification that is. But that's the way it's worked out.
Of course, part of that is because I wanted a female roommate and because of Amy. Not that Amy is exactly a "friend", but we've been keeping in close touch lately. We're both extremely curious about what's going on, but it's hitting a lot closer to home for her. She's the one who can't remember her life, and there's apparently other people even more curious than her. She thinks her dorm room has been broken into, and her roommate is starting to get worried about the situation, almost to the point of asking to be transfered somewhere else.
Meanwhile, I'm hanging out with Kate a lot. We're both single and at the point where we don't really mind, and the award-bait movies are starting to come out. Of course, we're lousy at planning, so Sunday we wind up at the theater and there's nothing playing soon but The Holiday. It's kind of cute, especially how Nancy Myers loves the old movies, and she's trying really hard to make something like them, but she really just isn't Ernst Lubitsch, no matter how much she wants to be.
Of course, it opens me up to a lot of ribbing on her part. She finds me buying a ticket to a chick flick of any kind absolutely hilarious, even at this late date.
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