I’m writing this while sitting in a hotel room. To my left is the Pacific Ocean and all the magical San Francisco fog stuff people kept whispering to me about. About 12 floors downstairs Claudia is doing yoga in the gym.
About four feet directly behind me is a woman that is a complete stranger to me who is having an unbelievably long orgasm. There’s a wall between us. Hold on a second while I take a glass and listen against the wall.
Now I hear nothing. Now I hear a toilet flush. Maybe they are finished. What I really want to do is eavesdrop on their conversation now. Do they rate themselves. I’m kind of assuming they just met. Its about 5:30am. So maybe they met last night, had sex, and now they just finished having morning sex.
So maybe now they are rating their performance or telling their life stories. Hold on a second while I check.
I had my ear on the wall for five minutes just now. I didn’t hear anything. Maybe they are asleep or maybe they immediately got up and went to breakfast. Mmm, bacon, pancakes, coffee, mimosas, croissants. Must…satisfy…all..cravings…by 7am.
What do they look like? Are they midgets? Three feet tall? You have to admit that would be a little funny. Don’t deny it. Even midgets would laugh at me saying this. Or elves. Whatever.
Maybe it’s someone famous. Maybe it was Lindsay Lohan. Hold on while I check my itunes library to see if anyone within the purvey of my hotel wifi is sharing all Lindsay Lohan’s masterpieces. Nevertheless, if there was no wall there then this whole thing would probably have been pretty awkward. I probably would not have been able to keep staring at the computer screen, for instance.
(I heard that Lindsay Lohan sometimes stays at this hotel. Could it be?)
If someone had the glass to the wall when I was 18 and first attempting whatever it was they were doing in the other room all they would’ve heard was me saying, “I’m sorry. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” And then, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on. Give me another chance.” But even then, I doubt they could’ve heard that over the ridiculously loud Pink Floyd music.
—
Sex is like driving. In polls, nine out of ten people think they are “above average”. Let’s say for a second that “average equals median” (I don’t want to get into basic math arguments in the comments). Clearly, then, it’s impossible for nine out ten people to be above average.
It’s also like sales or negotiating or poker or being “a good judge of people”. Nine out of ten think they are above average.
Most people have over-inflated views of their performance in a variety of areas.
Let’s go back to Malcolm Gladwell’s book, “Outliers” for a second. To guarantee being among the best in the world at something you pretty much need 10,000 hours of practice as per his “10,000 hour rule”
[Update: I left my room to go to breakfast right as they were leaving their room. He looked like he was a professional basketball player. She was fully dressed and he was just wearing t-shirt pants. On the elevator she asked him what he was going to do for the rest of the day and he just said, "I donna" and then at the door of the
hotel he waved goodbye to her.]
How To Be the Best At Anything You Want to Do作者: not4weak 时间: 2011-12-11 12:50
Let’s go back to Malcolm Gladwell’s book, “Outliers” for a second. To guarantee being among the best in the world at something you pretty much need 10,000 hours of practice as per his “10,000 hour rule”
This is all I got作者: 黄道吉日 时间: 2011-12-11 18:14
sex is like driving....
clearly, I am above average.......作者: 何鸿燊 时间: 2011-12-11 18:33