Most of the seniors are reading Shakespeare’s Hamlet currently and hating it. I find this greatly distressing. Not because I hold 2 degrees in English and am expected to love Shakespeare, but simply because I love the character of Hamlet.
The play is fantastic and full of lines I quote frequently. But dysfunctional, brainiac, sad Hamlet keeps me coming back to the story. I can’t abandon a character reflecting the inner-workings of my brain. (which should probably terrify me at least a little more than not at all) Continue reading Hamlet and a Timelord
Time is a very funny construct. It’s ubiquitous to the point of non-acknowledgemet. Everyone knows that there are 24 hours in a day and that they are made up of 60 minutes and that there are 60 seconds in each minute and that 365 of those 24 hour sets makes up 1 year.
Unless you’re off Earth.
But since most people will never leave the planet, that doesn’t really count. But what’s crazy about time is that wherever I am feels like the time should be the same for everyone. Or at least the same day.
But it isn’t. Because time is crazy and, like most commonly accepted standards, is rather shoddily constructed. Time is not the same everywhere. It isn’t even always the same day everywhere.
I never fully appreciated the crappiness of time until this trip to Australia. I’ve never been so easily connected to family and friends at home, so I have never had to really keep time in 2 places. I’ve always simply switched to the time standard where I am and not thought about home time. But this time I’m conscious of the fact that the people I am chatting with as I am finishing off my day are getting ready to start theirs. And I’m talking they’re waking up for work as I’m over-due for sleep.
And that I can manage. What really trips me up is the fact that they are getting up for the day that I have just finished. The time difference from Brisbane to Orange County, CA is 17 hours difference, with Brisbane ahead. It’s a mind trip because I’ve talked to friends who are sending out invitations to events that in terms of days would have happened the day before.
Like my friend invited me to an art opening. The event happened on a Friday night and they sent out a text not long before it started their time. I received it when they sent it, and my time in Brisbane was Saturday afternoon. I couldn’t go, not only because I was in another country, but mostly because I would have had to travel back in time, and I haven’t quite mastered that yet. Maybe after I get flying down I can tackle time travel. Or start a quest for a blue police box.
I wish I could manage time travel because I would be able to participate in so much more around the world. I’d be even happier if I could get my mind to understand this time thing better. But since time is rather wibbly-wobbly, I guess I’ll just have to learn to count correctly and invest in Tylenol for the headaches…