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Which Discworld Character are you like (with pics) created with QuizFarm.com | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You scored as Commander Samuel Vimes You are Samuel Vimes! Captain of Ankh-Morpork’s city Watch! You are a knight, married to the very wealthy, noble lady Sybil Ramkin. You often walk the streets at night, and are able to tell where you are by the feel of the cobbles under your boots. You always do what is right – that is, what needs to be done – to keep the city safe, even when it seems bad.
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Friday, August 15, 2008
tee hee.
I particularly like how I'm 75% of all the following: Vimes, Carrot, Vetinari, The Librarian, and Nanny Ogg. All of them. Together. I'm not sure what that says about me, but I'm sure it's quite entertaining for further psychiatric assessment.
My clinical is Monday, and my ride-along is Wednesday. The Universe is making up for the extreme delay in getting my paperwork processed. Let's just hope that extends to the NREMT and jobhunting as well. hm?
Monday, August 11, 2008
aw.
I had my dates wrong. I have until April 09 until my next Dresden fix.
Sad panda.
Amber's scarf needs something. I'm afraid it's going to turn out to be beads.
your first glimpse of mountaaaaaaaaaains:
this mad-looking little bird. chirping away, greatly indignant that I was daring to take his picture. I like the look of crazy in his eyes, although I think he's altogether too dry-looking for such a damp day.
Sad panda.
Amber's scarf needs something. I'm afraid it's going to turn out to be beads.
your first glimpse of mountaaaaaaaaaains:
this mad-looking little bird. chirping away, greatly indignant that I was daring to take his picture. I like the look of crazy in his eyes, although I think he's altogether too dry-looking for such a damp day.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
cats. strange. yes.
Rereading Small Favor. Dresden + Oceanography = WIN.
Why the Kitteh is strange, Part...whatever. I'm sitting in The Ancient Black Pleather Armchair Monster, wrapped up in a blanket, either getting sucked into the depths of Ravelry or getting bashed upon by giant stinky bears/cougars/minotaur lords in Oblivion. The Kitteh decides that the computer is consuming too much of my attention, and jumps up onto the arm of the chair. He then proceeds to walk across the keyboard, stick his butt in my face, then flop down monorail-cat-style on the other arm of the chair.
This is not exciting enough, though, despite a few half-hearted bats at the mouse, so he jumps up to the back of the chair and bats at my head, then stares intently at the totally blank wall and makes the strange "I want that" cat noises. at nothing. no bug, no spider, no bird sounds...just blank, sort of egg nog colored wall.
Still boring. He then jumps back to the arm of the chair, steps on the laptop again, claims the corner and attempts to bite the corner of the screen, glares at me when I flick my finger at him, then proceeds to nudge my arm out of the way, burrow and paw his way around and through the blanket, and go spelunking behind me. But he can't really go that far, since I'm leaning back, and instead settles for turning around and hunkering down, only the tip of his nose showing.
But even this is boring, so he nudges and pokes his head out, taking up a sphinx-like position and staring intently at my computer screen. see?
Then: sudden excitement! some piece of carpet fluff catches his eye and he leaps for it, digging all razor-sharp Claws Of Doom into my leg in the process, and is clearly highly entertained by the squeaky noises made by moi. He was later banished to prevent further Knitting Disaster.
as I'm writing this, The Boy is torturing The Kitteh with the laser pointer and a pop-up frisbee. and he's also torturing Aurelius the goldfish, who keeps trying to eat it whenever a drive-by laser ends up in the fishtank.
Why the Kitteh is strange, Part...whatever. I'm sitting in The Ancient Black Pleather Armchair Monster, wrapped up in a blanket, either getting sucked into the depths of Ravelry or getting bashed upon by giant stinky bears/cougars/minotaur lords in Oblivion. The Kitteh decides that the computer is consuming too much of my attention, and jumps up onto the arm of the chair. He then proceeds to walk across the keyboard, stick his butt in my face, then flop down monorail-cat-style on the other arm of the chair.
This is not exciting enough, though, despite a few half-hearted bats at the mouse, so he jumps up to the back of the chair and bats at my head, then stares intently at the totally blank wall and makes the strange "I want that" cat noises. at nothing. no bug, no spider, no bird sounds...just blank, sort of egg nog colored wall.
Still boring. He then jumps back to the arm of the chair, steps on the laptop again, claims the corner and attempts to bite the corner of the screen, glares at me when I flick my finger at him, then proceeds to nudge my arm out of the way, burrow and paw his way around and through the blanket, and go spelunking behind me. But he can't really go that far, since I'm leaning back, and instead settles for turning around and hunkering down, only the tip of his nose showing.
But even this is boring, so he nudges and pokes his head out, taking up a sphinx-like position and staring intently at my computer screen. see?
Then: sudden excitement! some piece of carpet fluff catches his eye and he leaps for it, digging all razor-sharp Claws Of Doom into my leg in the process, and is clearly highly entertained by the squeaky noises made by moi. He was later banished to prevent further Knitting Disaster.as I'm writing this, The Boy is torturing The Kitteh with the laser pointer and a pop-up frisbee. and he's also torturing Aurelius the goldfish, who keeps trying to eat it whenever a drive-by laser ends up in the fishtank.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
so, so true.
Mountains in t-3 days! wheeeee!
Still haven't heard from EMS instructor about externships! notwheee!
but mountains! wheeee!
also, today's Nemi.
So...what do you do for a living?
You- I think you are unbelievably beautiful, that was why I wanted to go out with you and drink wine- but do we have to talk about that?
I mean; like everyone else always does? I'm so tired of it! "bla bla bla"- Boring! it's like everyone has been given each their own spiel with the ability to talk on what they have in their heads- and it is never real, fine things that really mean anything!
Couldn't you have instead asked me about what the finest sound I know of is? can't we talk about how long it has been since we sat in trees or what scared us most when we were kids and if we're still afraid of the same things? ask me about which five things I have to do before I die!
Still haven't heard from EMS instructor about externships! notwheee!
but mountains! wheeee!
also, today's Nemi.
So...what do you do for a living?
You- I think you are unbelievably beautiful, that was why I wanted to go out with you and drink wine- but do we have to talk about that?
I mean; like everyone else always does? I'm so tired of it! "bla bla bla"- Boring! it's like everyone has been given each their own spiel with the ability to talk on what they have in their heads- and it is never real, fine things that really mean anything!
Couldn't you have instead asked me about what the finest sound I know of is? can't we talk about how long it has been since we sat in trees or what scared us most when we were kids and if we're still afraid of the same things? ask me about which five things I have to do before I die!
...you don't want to say what you do for a living?
Self-defense. I'm trying not to push you away.
Self-defense. I'm trying not to push you away.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Why I love Firefly. and Nathan Fillion.
A) Dr Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog.
B) Waitress.
But really, seriously, topping them all, this. Kids Need To Read.
A) Dr Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog.
B) Waitress.
But really, seriously, topping them all, this. Kids Need To Read.
Friday, July 18, 2008
seriously.
what is the deal with the catch-22 of science?
really?
every job needs a master's degree. or 1-5 years of experience.
oh, wait, here's an entry level position.
"excellent opportunity for students. Minimum requirements: 1-3 years experience in similar lab environment with a Bachelor's degree in related field. no official lab experience excluding college labs is acceptable with a minimum of a Master's degree in related field."
yeah. entry level...who knew it meant absolutely squat!
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarg. arg. argargarg.
and I apparently picked the worst state to become an EMT in, and the way things are working out I won't be able to apply for jobs as an EMT until late august if I'm lucky, september if I'm not, and our old landlord hasn't given us our deposit back yet, which we kind of maybe needed to pay things like, you know, rent and loans, but hell, we don't need food, really, and sure we can continue abusing the grace and generosity of my parents because we still haven't started our payment schedule for our car loan and if I apply for a different job (which basically would be retail, since science jobs suck and don't consider college lab or field experience to be field experience despite the fact that that's the whole point of taking the fucking lab/field classes to begin with) then I've essentially wasted 3,000 dollars on an EMT class. and...grumblegrumble...
What. The. Fuck.
I'm sorry. I blame Orvis for my language, just like I blamed Johnny after I got off the boat. yes, there is a profession that- at the very least ties, if not exceeds- sailors for profanity use.
on a lighter note, I saw an episode of Survivorman where he went to Baffin Island. there were several times when my evil marmot was saying "...psh. pansy." man has no idea how to build a snow cave. you build down, not up. down good, up bad. up good for lunchtime windbreak, and if you're building an igloo, fat rectangular cubes are your friends, not skinny slabs.
and the cat is still cute, although still enamoured of the 'attack-the-form-under-the-blanket-at-0300' polar bear stomp.
and that's basically keeping me from sheer and utter insanity. that, and mountains = t-7 days.
mmmountains.
really?
every job needs a master's degree. or 1-5 years of experience.
oh, wait, here's an entry level position.
"excellent opportunity for students. Minimum requirements: 1-3 years experience in similar lab environment with a Bachelor's degree in related field. no official lab experience excluding college labs is acceptable with a minimum of a Master's degree in related field."
yeah. entry level...who knew it meant absolutely squat!
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarg. arg. argargarg.
and I apparently picked the worst state to become an EMT in, and the way things are working out I won't be able to apply for jobs as an EMT until late august if I'm lucky, september if I'm not, and our old landlord hasn't given us our deposit back yet, which we kind of maybe needed to pay things like, you know, rent and loans, but hell, we don't need food, really, and sure we can continue abusing the grace and generosity of my parents because we still haven't started our payment schedule for our car loan and if I apply for a different job (which basically would be retail, since science jobs suck and don't consider college lab or field experience to be field experience despite the fact that that's the whole point of taking the fucking lab/field classes to begin with) then I've essentially wasted 3,000 dollars on an EMT class. and...grumblegrumble...
What. The. Fuck.
I'm sorry. I blame Orvis for my language, just like I blamed Johnny after I got off the boat. yes, there is a profession that- at the very least ties, if not exceeds- sailors for profanity use.
on a lighter note, I saw an episode of Survivorman where he went to Baffin Island. there were several times when my evil marmot was saying "...psh. pansy." man has no idea how to build a snow cave. you build down, not up. down good, up bad. up good for lunchtime windbreak, and if you're building an igloo, fat rectangular cubes are your friends, not skinny slabs.
and the cat is still cute, although still enamoured of the 'attack-the-form-under-the-blanket-at-0300' polar bear stomp.
and that's basically keeping me from sheer and utter insanity. that, and mountains = t-7 days.
mmmountains.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
I love this comic.
Cyan: finding anything you like?Nemi: well...
in the world of shoes, this pair is a deep-water fish.
they have bulging eyes and are slimy! and they have a boooooip on their head like this that lights up and scares all the other fish that want to be on a shelf far away from these shoes.
Blonde: wha...
Nemi: *shudder*
Cyan: She doesn't like them.
I'll leave you with that.
that, and an equation.
3 shots + 1 arm + overeager BART door* = OW.
*seriously. this isn't like an elevator door, that gently closes- barely making contact, you know- and then sproings open in shock that it might have closed on a gooshy human. This is BART. BART doors close, then press, then squeeeeeze- then reluctantly slide open about a centimetre.
Also- People of the East Bay? do not amble idly during rush hour.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
yay!
in an interesting congruence of events, I had my skills test for emergency childbirth today, which is the same day that my cousin Eric's wife Robyn had her bebbe!
little bebbe Little Ick. aw. I'm with Eric- go for Tor. :)
little bebbe Little Ick. aw. I'm with Eric- go for Tor. :)
Monday, June 16, 2008
I can has kitteh!
We beat out the other 5 people who had applied for the kitty. I'd have a picture, but he's still wicked* shy and hides under the bed or the couch until about 10pm, when he comes out and wants to play and jumps on the bed and says mjau plaintively because we're not playing with him and tries to eat my plant and sit on my head.
*10 months of living in the Bay Area, and I still have yet to absorb 'hella' into my vocabulary. thank. god. Living in Mass, apparently, made a bigger impression. that's ok. wicked is an acceptable superlative.
so no picture yet of kitteh. now he's pissed off because we trimmed his claws and put on Soft Paws, which are these cool little plastic caps you glue onto their claws so that when they try to claw things they fail. and when they're comfy and happy and to show it they do the 'I'm going to dig-my-claws-through-your-legs-into-your-femur' thing they also fail.
I love the look on Viggo Mortensen-as-Aragorn's face as he faces the horde of Uruk-Hai and orcs at the top of the mountain before they split up the Fellowship. it's all "oh, look, a giant horde of beasties that want to kill me...flippin' sweeeeeet." and the Piratical Elf Boy of Troy is all "what? me? hold off the stream of warbling orcs with blinding fast arrows? no, dude, it's totally not CG. elf's honor."
hung out at the pool (elliot's) with the crew, then got invited to be party crashers for not-dinner (since we'd already eaten and weren't planned-for eaters, y'know) at some of our extra-geeky friends' place in Marin. got to see their new aquarium setup.
*10 months of living in the Bay Area, and I still have yet to absorb 'hella' into my vocabulary. thank. god. Living in Mass, apparently, made a bigger impression. that's ok. wicked is an acceptable superlative.
so no picture yet of kitteh. now he's pissed off because we trimmed his claws and put on Soft Paws, which are these cool little plastic caps you glue onto their claws so that when they try to claw things they fail. and when they're comfy and happy and to show it they do the 'I'm going to dig-my-claws-through-your-legs-into-your-femur' thing they also fail.
I love the look on Viggo Mortensen-as-Aragorn's face as he faces the horde of Uruk-Hai and orcs at the top of the mountain before they split up the Fellowship. it's all "oh, look, a giant horde of beasties that want to kill me...flippin' sweeeeeet." and the Piratical Elf Boy of Troy is all "what? me? hold off the stream of warbling orcs with blinding fast arrows? no, dude, it's totally not CG. elf's honor."
hung out at the pool (elliot's) with the crew, then got invited to be party crashers for not-dinner (since we'd already eaten and weren't planned-for eaters, y'know) at some of our extra-geeky friends' place in Marin. got to see their new aquarium setup.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
kitteh!
might be getting a kitty. went to petsmart for gravel because the undergravel filter in the betta/frog tank went splort (it was nasty. like whoa. congealed algae. ew. that's what 2 days of 80 degrees in old apt did, and what prompted the early move to new apartment.) and paused to look at the kitties that hopalong animal rescue had at the petsmart. six very bouncy kitten-kitties, and a tired, relaxing mama-kitty going 'thank god, the divider's up...' and two teenager kittens that were less acrobatically ADHD than the kitten-kittens, which isn't actually much.
and then there was The Kitty. apparently named Sport, (which won't last long if we actually get to adopt him) he's a very shy, very gorgeous kitteh. looks just like this:
only with husky-blue eyes. like a little tiny amur tiger. rarwr.
and then there was The Kitty. apparently named Sport, (which won't last long if we actually get to adopt him) he's a very shy, very gorgeous kitteh. looks just like this:
only with husky-blue eyes. like a little tiny amur tiger. rarwr.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
hearing voices?
every time I have to carry my passport and my wallet at the same time, I get this little tiny shiver and a tiny little voice deep inside me says "...go."
and man...today...I really, really, really, want to listen.
and man...today...I really, really, really, want to listen.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
drat
t-minus 1.45 hours and counting.
my brain is full.
my equation sheet is two pages of tiny scribbly chickenscratch and a little overflow onto a third.
I don't have my knitting.
boo.
my brain is full.
my equation sheet is two pages of tiny scribbly chickenscratch and a little overflow onto a third.
I don't have my knitting.
boo.
Monday, May 12, 2008
*cue chorus of angels*
why?
because I have finished my last. ever. masteringphysics problem set.
whooooooo!
joy. rapture. a hard boiled egg.
and now, as a treat, I shall watch more Dexter.
which is pretty good, despite the fact that I find the way they're portraying Deborah to be totally contrary to my mental picture, which, since the guy who plays Vince and the guy who plays Doakes are dead on, will probably require rereading of the first two books. (yeah, like you'll have to twist my arm.)
although apparently the kids are normal, and not carrying mini Dark Passengers, which is sad, sad, sad.
c'mon. if CSI can have several sociopathic children on their show, why can't a Showtime show? I mean...it's Showtime. it's like HBO-fall asleep watching some funny little comedy, wake up to Super Real Sex XIXXI etc.
Friday, May 09, 2008
and what have we learned today, kids?
hippie-Beserkeley-earth friendly-Whole Foods marshmallows do not melt. they fuse. straight from puffed sugary gelatin to soft ball, with no gooey, near-liquidy stage in between.
so. annoying.
now my gorp bars (rice chex, pretzel sticks, peanut M&M's (or dairy-free choco chips, as the case may be) held together with peanut butter and marshmallows) are...really weird trail mix. well, maybe not. maybe when they cool they'll harden up, and when I once again have feeling in my hands (see aforementioned 'straight-to-soft ball*') I might be able to cut them and package them. still. Casey might be getting dairy-free wicked strange globules of trail mix.
*soft ball candy? yeah. 235 degrees.
it's definitely a Fail. tomorrow will tell whether it gets upgraded to Epic Fail.
Last lab ever tomorrow! in....13.5 hours! (hm, kind of late.)
which means....the great Stefano De Santis quote roundup! (my favorites are in bold.)
"What does this mean? Does this mean that Europeans are cooler than Americans?...no…well, yes, but…”
“so if you put an ice cube in vodka, it should not float as much as in water. But don’t try it, because it’s not the way to drink vodka.”
“like this, there is no acceleration, so you cannot open your jam can and you starve. So don’t move vectors, you’ll starve.”
“we study it for two reasons: one is the merry-go-round, which everyone loves, you know, kids and adults, especially in America, you know, we don’t have it in my land-
-wait, you don’t have merry-go-rounds?
-yes, but once you are past the age of seven, you grow, you lose the fascination, you know.”
“you go to the parking lot and spin around, you know, when the police aren’t looking.”
“you can figure out the velocity of the artillery and you can bomb Paris, if you like.”
“this is probably the best thing you’ve seen. It’s also the most lethal. We lose one every time.”
“there is a gun that you can cock- I can use this word in this case!-“
“and now the projectile goes inside bob…I don’t like this giggling, I don’t understand why…”
“that’s how you open the jar of nutella, you know- you guys know nutella? That’s very good, it helps the Italian economy.”
“Now why did I say this makes sense? It actually doesn’t make sense, but this is how you remember it.”
“in the foot? Can I do CPR?”
“then for V2 you got this V2 and you, with the, you know, the V2…*godfather voice*..is like Vito, eh? You find the V1, and take out (the) bob.”
“If the doctor was out of goo, then he could spit on you and still get decent results. …I know, because he did it to me.”
“I was trying to give you an intuitive explanation, but it doesn’t exist.”
“and the book, it explains…no, it does not explain, but it’s an article of faith, which, being easter…*shrugs*”
“maybe you have a cocktail. Tea is not enough. So…drink alcohol.”
“Hey, I almost got a scholarship. For kicker. …you laugh?!”
“is like you have to combine one woman, and not four. …that’s applied physics!”
“it looks weird. Is like… short man and tall woman. People look at you. I know!”
“so, before this makes any less sense…”
and here he is...
and you wonder why the only thing I dislike about physics lab is that it's on saturday afternoons up in the oakland hills.
so. annoying.
now my gorp bars (rice chex, pretzel sticks, peanut M&M's (or dairy-free choco chips, as the case may be) held together with peanut butter and marshmallows) are...really weird trail mix. well, maybe not. maybe when they cool they'll harden up, and when I once again have feeling in my hands (see aforementioned 'straight-to-soft ball*') I might be able to cut them and package them. still. Casey might be getting dairy-free wicked strange globules of trail mix.
*soft ball candy? yeah. 235 degrees.
it's definitely a Fail. tomorrow will tell whether it gets upgraded to Epic Fail.
Last lab ever tomorrow! in....13.5 hours! (hm, kind of late.)
which means....the great Stefano De Santis quote roundup! (my favorites are in bold.)
"What does this mean? Does this mean that Europeans are cooler than Americans?...no…well, yes, but…”
“so if you put an ice cube in vodka, it should not float as much as in water. But don’t try it, because it’s not the way to drink vodka.”
“like this, there is no acceleration, so you cannot open your jam can and you starve. So don’t move vectors, you’ll starve.”
“we study it for two reasons: one is the merry-go-round, which everyone loves, you know, kids and adults, especially in America, you know, we don’t have it in my land-
-wait, you don’t have merry-go-rounds?
-yes, but once you are past the age of seven, you grow, you lose the fascination, you know.”
“you go to the parking lot and spin around, you know, when the police aren’t looking.”
“you can figure out the velocity of the artillery and you can bomb Paris, if you like.”
“this is probably the best thing you’ve seen. It’s also the most lethal. We lose one every time.”
“there is a gun that you can cock- I can use this word in this case!-“
“and now the projectile goes inside bob…I don’t like this giggling, I don’t understand why…”
“that’s how you open the jar of nutella, you know- you guys know nutella? That’s very good, it helps the Italian economy.”
“Now why did I say this makes sense? It actually doesn’t make sense, but this is how you remember it.”
“in the foot? Can I do CPR?”
“then for V2 you got this V2 and you, with the, you know, the V2…*godfather voice*..is like Vito, eh? You find the V1, and take out (the) bob.”
“If the doctor was out of goo, then he could spit on you and still get decent results. …I know, because he did it to me.”
“I was trying to give you an intuitive explanation, but it doesn’t exist.”
“and the book, it explains…no, it does not explain, but it’s an article of faith, which, being easter…*shrugs*”
“maybe you have a cocktail. Tea is not enough. So…drink alcohol.”
“Hey, I almost got a scholarship. For kicker. …you laugh?!”
“is like you have to combine one woman, and not four. …that’s applied physics!”
“it looks weird. Is like… short man and tall woman. People look at you. I know!”
“so, before this makes any less sense…”
and here he is...
and you wonder why the only thing I dislike about physics lab is that it's on saturday afternoons up in the oakland hills.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
don't worry. what follows is hyperbole and dramatic license.
So every Thursday, I walk into physics and see what random stuff the people who have used the room before us have written on the board. things like People for Peptol meeting 8pm sat, or snippets of economics lectures, or typical incoherent Berserkley ramblings, or once half of a greek 3rd declension noun that I valiantly struggled with not correcting all through the waiting for lecture to start. (I rationalized that she'd have to erase the board when the lecture started...but she didn't...so...at the break I couldn't take it anymore and went up and finished it. the few class members still in the room gave me funny looks, but at least my brain stopped itching.)
Today, with a week to go before the physics final, the stuff on the white board?
Suicide Awareness Week.
and for the first time ever, I understand the appeal.
(-^ hyperbole. honest. not going to do anything. I just never ever understood the point, and now I kind of do. but I have The Boy. and Family. and Friends. and yarn. and books. and music. and mama ocean. so even if I'm feeling like I'm at the bottom of the emotional marianas trench, at least I'm not actually there.)
although, bad example, because that'd be cool.
also, there's an island called Kaffeklubben, which is the northernmost point on land. (coffee club.)
Today, with a week to go before the physics final, the stuff on the white board?
Suicide Awareness Week.
and for the first time ever, I understand the appeal.
(-^ hyperbole. honest. not going to do anything. I just never ever understood the point, and now I kind of do. but I have The Boy. and Family. and Friends. and yarn. and books. and music. and mama ocean. so even if I'm feeling like I'm at the bottom of the emotional marianas trench, at least I'm not actually there.)
although, bad example, because that'd be cool.
also, there's an island called Kaffeklubben, which is the northernmost point on land. (coffee club.)
Sunday, May 04, 2008
first GTA....
...and now Lost.
When The Boy was chugging his way through Stargate: SG-1, I would happily watch with him. in the beginning, just cos it's MacGuyver, then because it was entertaining, and after the time loop episode, I'd watch it just to giggle every time I saw Teal'c.
When that turned into Stargate: Atlantis, I watched because it was habit, and now because Kaylee (Jewel Staite) is the head doctor-person, which makes me giggle internally, cause...it's...kaylee. from firefly.
and then grand theft auto IV: liberty city came out and I lost him to the violence and the driving-into-stanchions-and-lightpoles because, y'know, city streets weren't meant for 90 degree turns at 90 miles per hour...in a mock escalade. this causes consternation, especially when it causes an uncontrolled spin and sticks him in place long enough for the police to catch up.
I'll watch a lot of video games. Tomb Raider, happily, even when the pseudo-attican temple puzzle was driving him crazy and I had to listen to the 'dying laura croft' soundbyte over and over and over. Mass Effect, sure, at least until the discord between the sound effects and the ambient music gets through my head and causes headache-by-resonance.
Not GTA. I'm not interested in trying to prevent others (provided they're over 18) from playing or owning or enjoying the game, but it's not getting my money, and it's not getting my time.
I digress.
Now, I've lost him to Lost. curses, foiled again.
what's the point? I watched the first season, mostly because my friends were watching and if I wanted to hang out, the syllogism had to be followed through. I was banned from speaking after the third episode. didn't really see the point- I understand that it's built around the development of the character instead of the development of the plot...but....seriously....at some point? the plot's gonna be kinda important.
I have some rabid friends who have been trying to get me to catch up on the seasons and they just know I'll be hooked because it's so awesome and intellectual and deep and wicked cool and I go 'yes, and boring' and I get the stunned look of sheer '...what?!'-ness.
and no, my dislike/avoidance/apathy in regards to Lost is not entirely based on the fact that a badly-animated polar bear menaced them. on a tropical island. polar + tropic = no. polar + much past subtropic = no.
they overheat- standing still- at 10 degrees C/50 degrees F.
they overheat in winter if they run too much. winter. polar winters.
running in for the attack or kill in tropical island? nuh-uh.
as an aside? best name ever for a lake: Lake El'gygytgyn.
especially since in cyrillic it looks even cooler. Эльгыгытгын.
When The Boy was chugging his way through Stargate: SG-1, I would happily watch with him. in the beginning, just cos it's MacGuyver, then because it was entertaining, and after the time loop episode, I'd watch it just to giggle every time I saw Teal'c.
When that turned into Stargate: Atlantis, I watched because it was habit, and now because Kaylee (Jewel Staite) is the head doctor-person, which makes me giggle internally, cause...it's...kaylee. from firefly.
and then grand theft auto IV: liberty city came out and I lost him to the violence and the driving-into-stanchions-and-lightpoles because, y'know, city streets weren't meant for 90 degree turns at 90 miles per hour...in a mock escalade. this causes consternation, especially when it causes an uncontrolled spin and sticks him in place long enough for the police to catch up.
I'll watch a lot of video games. Tomb Raider, happily, even when the pseudo-attican temple puzzle was driving him crazy and I had to listen to the 'dying laura croft' soundbyte over and over and over. Mass Effect, sure, at least until the discord between the sound effects and the ambient music gets through my head and causes headache-by-resonance.
Not GTA. I'm not interested in trying to prevent others (provided they're over 18) from playing or owning or enjoying the game, but it's not getting my money, and it's not getting my time.
I digress.
Now, I've lost him to Lost. curses, foiled again.
what's the point? I watched the first season, mostly because my friends were watching and if I wanted to hang out, the syllogism had to be followed through. I was banned from speaking after the third episode. didn't really see the point- I understand that it's built around the development of the character instead of the development of the plot...but....seriously....at some point? the plot's gonna be kinda important.
I have some rabid friends who have been trying to get me to catch up on the seasons and they just know I'll be hooked because it's so awesome and intellectual and deep and wicked cool and I go 'yes, and boring' and I get the stunned look of sheer '...what?!'-ness.
and no, my dislike/avoidance/apathy in regards to Lost is not entirely based on the fact that a badly-animated polar bear menaced them. on a tropical island. polar + tropic = no. polar + much past subtropic = no.
they overheat- standing still- at 10 degrees C/50 degrees F.
they overheat in winter if they run too much. winter. polar winters.
running in for the attack or kill in tropical island? nuh-uh.
as an aside? best name ever for a lake: Lake El'gygytgyn.
especially since in cyrillic it looks even cooler. Эльгыгытгын.
Monday, April 28, 2008
are you fucking kidding me?
and I'm not about to apologize for the profanity. not for this.
there's an article today in the NY Times about the Khalil Gibran International Academy and its ex principal. you should read it, because I am not about to present an unbiased opinion right now. grr.
so: the goal of the school: Children of Arab descent would join students of other ethnicities, learning Arabic together. By graduation, they would be fluent in the language and groomed for the country’s elite colleges. They would be ready, in Ms. Almontaser’s [the founding principal] words, to become “ambassadors of peace and hope.”
sounds great. also sounds like the first few years are going to be rough. a) it's high school. high school = melting point of hormones, personal definition, stress- c'mon. you've got to remember what it was like- high schoolers are not sane by any stretch of the imagination, and now you're going to add both politics (international and domestic) and religion as a major fuse? and that's not in terms of subject matter, that's in terms of simply hearing the name of the school, or hearing that half the classes would be taught in Arabic.
Who was Khalil Gibran? a militant cleric, perhaps, or an incendiary prophet? no? oh, that's right, he was a poet. a Christian poet. who wrote words like this:
An eye for an eye, and the whole world would be blind.
When we turn to one another for counsel we reduce the number of our enemies.
And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
I love you when you bow in your mosque, kneel in your temple, pray in your church. For you and I are sons of one religion, and it is the spirit.
and when the McCarthian fur started flying, how many of the people who painted Almontaser as "a “radical,” a “jihadist” and a “9/11 denier.” She stood accused of harboring unpatriotic leanings and of secretly planning to proselytize her students." do you think actually knew anything about Khalil Gibran? or read anything by him? cared?
But wait! there's more!
and I'm curious about the cabdrivers- is this an 'I've got a sixpack with my groceries' or an 'I'm ridiculously stinking drunk with an open 40 in each hand? and I'll admit, I don't really understand the bank thing, but...I don't understand much about banks, period, and my knowledge of sharia is incredibly rusty. Still. this sounds like the English Firsties whining about loan applications and things being offered in Spanish.
and then there's an editorial written about the school- by Mr Daniel Pipes, who founded the Middle East Forum, and who started this mess- which states:
“Arabic-language instruction is inevitably laden with Pan-Arabist and Islamist baggage,” he wrote, referring to the school as a madrassa, which means school in Arabic but, in the West, carries the implication of Islamic teaching.
and now, of course, that his goal has been reached, he can say the word was “a bit of a stretch,”
but that's ok because he needed it to gain attention for his cause. like, say...communist, not so many years ago? can we talk about Campus Watch? and how it screams back to McCarthy's blacklisting?
and can we talk about how the school follows the same global studies curriculum as the rest of the NY public schools- i.e. not jesus with your orange juice or torah with your civics or koran with your algebra?
And how one of the breaking points for the media was that the cafeteria might serve Halal food? because clearly, eating Halal makes you into a violent jihadist. and eating Kosher makes you a violent haradim. and not eating red meat on Fridays makes you a member of the Inquisition. and since I eat a lot of Thai food, I must be Buddhist. yep.
don't get me started on PETA's ideas on kosher/halal meat.
and how about the fact that understanding and trust and cooperation and coexistence and any hope of ever living in this world without fear of mutually assured destruction by Crusades 2.0 is going to require exactly what this school is trying to do. and what concordia language villages' al-waha is doing.
I had so much more ranting. I was gonna use citations and everything.
but now I'm not even mad anymore. I feel drained and disillusioned and depressed and a bunch of other negative words that start with d.
and sickened. how can we progress as a society- or even stay alive as a society- when even now, one person, with one well-placed, poisonously written editorial- can start in motion a series of events that end with smeared careers, damaged reputations, ruined prospects, yet another wedge between arab and non-arab and jew and american and conservative and and muslim and moderate and liberal?
what the hell are we teaching our kids? it's not what they're learning in school that's dangerous, but what they're learning outside of school, in the 'real world.'
(ok, that might be a slight hyperbole. you can definitely learn bad shit in school. I know, and I'm glad that I have little memory of my experiences with 'history' class.)
Why doesn't it ever go the other way? why can't someone write an editorial that snowballs into more funding? or a satellite school in Chicago, or Minneapolis, or San Francisco?
Why are we so damn afraid?
here's a last quote by Khalil Gibran:
Would that I were a dry well, and that the people tossed stones into me, for that would be easier than to be a spring of flowing water that the thirsty pass by, and from which they avoid drinking.
ouch.
...and on a completely unrelated (hah, not really) note, I want to know how much using the words "incendiary" "arab" "militant" and "jihadist" in the same blog has increased my FBI/NSA file.
there's an article today in the NY Times about the Khalil Gibran International Academy and its ex principal. you should read it, because I am not about to present an unbiased opinion right now. grr.
so: the goal of the school: Children of Arab descent would join students of other ethnicities, learning Arabic together. By graduation, they would be fluent in the language and groomed for the country’s elite colleges. They would be ready, in Ms. Almontaser’s [the founding principal] words, to become “ambassadors of peace and hope.”
sounds great. also sounds like the first few years are going to be rough. a) it's high school. high school = melting point of hormones, personal definition, stress- c'mon. you've got to remember what it was like- high schoolers are not sane by any stretch of the imagination, and now you're going to add both politics (international and domestic) and religion as a major fuse? and that's not in terms of subject matter, that's in terms of simply hearing the name of the school, or hearing that half the classes would be taught in Arabic.
Who was Khalil Gibran? a militant cleric, perhaps, or an incendiary prophet? no? oh, that's right, he was a poet. a Christian poet. who wrote words like this:
An eye for an eye, and the whole world would be blind.
When we turn to one another for counsel we reduce the number of our enemies.
And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
I love you when you bow in your mosque, kneel in your temple, pray in your church. For you and I are sons of one religion, and it is the spirit.
and when the McCarthian fur started flying, how many of the people who painted Almontaser as "a “radical,” a “jihadist” and a “9/11 denier.” She stood accused of harboring unpatriotic leanings and of secretly planning to proselytize her students." do you think actually knew anything about Khalil Gibran? or read anything by him? cared?
But wait! there's more!
In the aftermath of Sept. 11, critics of radical Islam focused largely on terrorism, scrutinizing Muslim-American charities or asserting links between Muslim organizations and violent groups like Hamas. But as the authorities have stepped up the war on terror, those critics have shifted their gaze to a new frontier, what they describe as law-abiding Muslim-Americans who are imposing their religious values in the public domain.
here's their idea of 'imposing their religious values in the public domain:'
- Muslim cabdrivers in Minneapolis refusing to take passengers carrying liquour.
- City pools and gyms with female-only hours for Muslim women.
- Banks offering financial products that comply with sharia.
and I'm curious about the cabdrivers- is this an 'I've got a sixpack with my groceries' or an 'I'm ridiculously stinking drunk with an open 40 in each hand? and I'll admit, I don't really understand the bank thing, but...I don't understand much about banks, period, and my knowledge of sharia is incredibly rusty. Still. this sounds like the English Firsties whining about loan applications and things being offered in Spanish.
and then there's an editorial written about the school- by Mr Daniel Pipes, who founded the Middle East Forum, and who started this mess- which states:
“Arabic-language instruction is inevitably laden with Pan-Arabist and Islamist baggage,” he wrote, referring to the school as a madrassa, which means school in Arabic but, in the West, carries the implication of Islamic teaching.
and now, of course, that his goal has been reached, he can say the word was “a bit of a stretch,”
but that's ok because he needed it to gain attention for his cause. like, say...communist, not so many years ago? can we talk about Campus Watch? and how it screams back to McCarthy's blacklisting?
and can we talk about how the school follows the same global studies curriculum as the rest of the NY public schools- i.e. not jesus with your orange juice or torah with your civics or koran with your algebra?
And how one of the breaking points for the media was that the cafeteria might serve Halal food? because clearly, eating Halal makes you into a violent jihadist. and eating Kosher makes you a violent haradim. and not eating red meat on Fridays makes you a member of the Inquisition. and since I eat a lot of Thai food, I must be Buddhist. yep.
don't get me started on PETA's ideas on kosher/halal meat.
and how about the fact that understanding and trust and cooperation and coexistence and any hope of ever living in this world without fear of mutually assured destruction by Crusades 2.0 is going to require exactly what this school is trying to do. and what concordia language villages' al-waha is doing.
I had so much more ranting. I was gonna use citations and everything.
but now I'm not even mad anymore. I feel drained and disillusioned and depressed and a bunch of other negative words that start with d.
and sickened. how can we progress as a society- or even stay alive as a society- when even now, one person, with one well-placed, poisonously written editorial- can start in motion a series of events that end with smeared careers, damaged reputations, ruined prospects, yet another wedge between arab and non-arab and jew and american and conservative and and muslim and moderate and liberal?
what the hell are we teaching our kids? it's not what they're learning in school that's dangerous, but what they're learning outside of school, in the 'real world.'
(ok, that might be a slight hyperbole. you can definitely learn bad shit in school. I know, and I'm glad that I have little memory of my experiences with 'history' class.)
Why doesn't it ever go the other way? why can't someone write an editorial that snowballs into more funding? or a satellite school in Chicago, or Minneapolis, or San Francisco?
Why are we so damn afraid?
here's a last quote by Khalil Gibran:
Would that I were a dry well, and that the people tossed stones into me, for that would be easier than to be a spring of flowing water that the thirsty pass by, and from which they avoid drinking.
ouch.
...and on a completely unrelated (hah, not really) note, I want to know how much using the words "incendiary" "arab" "militant" and "jihadist" in the same blog has increased my FBI/NSA file.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
portable explosion-proof lights.
chalk one up for "things I didn't know existed but clearly must have*," don't you think?
also: in the "things I didn't know existed but now wish I still didn't" category: um, ew.
and: the newest winner of the "worst idea ever" award is Monovision.
FISHES!
about to head out for bike ride. cleaned out the fishtanks. Seneca and Cicero 2.0 and Aurelius and the ENTs are doing well, although I'm starting to think that Cicero is a bad name for a fish, because he's got a funky growth eating his face, probably from chewing on the sad little gimpy fish that had fin rot before I got him into a hospital tank. although the other two don't seem to be having troubles, so maybe it's just the Curse of the Name.
and yes, it is 'fishes' and not 'fish' because two different species are involved in that paragraph. take that, o ex-college-advisor, you!
FIBRE!
writing your own lace pattern = brain go ouch.
also:
I have a fuzzy glittery soft yarn that is screaming a friend's name and another yarn that is also shrieking that same friend's name, but is a thread-type yarn, and the fuzzy yarn is more like a handspun or thick worsted, and sufficiently fuzzy to totally consume the other when knit together. this has foiled my plans considerably. any ideas?
I'm not going to get into '-er' vs 're.' Fibre looks better. So does theatre. and....uh...Look! Shiny!
Boo. Time to leave for Physics, since I have to drop my bike off at Missing Link to get my warranty started. woo. hoo.
*that's have as in 'possess', not have as in 'must have (known existed)'. it's the imperative, not the pluperfect. or is that a subjunctive? ...okay, so maaaybe using Cicero's De Natura Deorum to combat physics is not the wisest of ideas. hush.
also: in the "things I didn't know existed but now wish I still didn't" category: um, ew.
and: the newest winner of the "worst idea ever" award is Monovision.
FISHES!
about to head out for bike ride. cleaned out the fishtanks. Seneca and Cicero 2.0 and Aurelius and the ENTs are doing well, although I'm starting to think that Cicero is a bad name for a fish, because he's got a funky growth eating his face, probably from chewing on the sad little gimpy fish that had fin rot before I got him into a hospital tank. although the other two don't seem to be having troubles, so maybe it's just the Curse of the Name.
and yes, it is 'fishes' and not 'fish' because two different species are involved in that paragraph. take that, o ex-college-advisor, you!
FIBRE!
writing your own lace pattern = brain go ouch.
also:
I have a fuzzy glittery soft yarn that is screaming a friend's name and another yarn that is also shrieking that same friend's name, but is a thread-type yarn, and the fuzzy yarn is more like a handspun or thick worsted, and sufficiently fuzzy to totally consume the other when knit together. this has foiled my plans considerably. any ideas?
I'm not going to get into '-er' vs 're.' Fibre looks better. So does theatre. and....uh...Look! Shiny!
Boo. Time to leave for Physics, since I have to drop my bike off at Missing Link to get my warranty started. woo. hoo.
*that's have as in 'possess', not have as in 'must have (known existed)'. it's the imperative, not the pluperfect. or is that a subjunctive? ...okay, so maaaybe using Cicero's De Natura Deorum to combat physics is not the wisest of ideas. hush.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Jim Butcher for the win!
you know what totally rocks?
Jim Butcher. (well, more of a who than a what, but shush.)
To make things more grammatically correct, let's say Jim Butcher's newest Dresden book, Small Favor- although it's not my favorite so far in the series. I plan on rereading, since it was my treat after a) physics midterm OF DOOM and b) taxes OF DOOM and I sort of fell upon it like a drunken moose on a grocery store, and may have missed some of the awesomeness. go read it anyway.
(...I keep trying to type Favors, and I have checked the book reflexively at least three times now in a very small space of time. aaaand we're...moving on.)
anyway. even if it were nothing but Dresden/Thomas slashfic (...shudder...ok, maybe not that far), I would still sing the praises of Jim Butcher, because of this paragraph:
"You don't do oceanography for the money," I said. "And you sure as hell don't take up working with dolphins and whales for the vast paycheck and the company car." I shook my head. "They love them. Someone's gone in every day. They'll at least have broken a foot trail."
Uh huh. That's right.
Dresden's rocking the oceanography love. I may have indulged in a girly cry of glee. I may have refused to explain to The Boy why. I may disavow all knowledge of girly cries of glee in the future. I may reread the book tomorrow instead of studying for my organic chemistry quiz.
oh, shush. it's all NMR. (or as my class calls it, NMFR...Not More Freaking spectRoscopy.) not only have we had it drilled in our brains from first semester, but...I had Brad at Luther. the NMR penguins are permanently attached to the iceberg. I could have total long-term amnesia and I would still be able to do NMR problems. OChem + Luther = ouch.
besides. dresden. oceanography. love.
Jim Butcher. (well, more of a who than a what, but shush.)
To make things more grammatically correct, let's say Jim Butcher's newest Dresden book, Small Favor- although it's not my favorite so far in the series. I plan on rereading, since it was my treat after a) physics midterm OF DOOM and b) taxes OF DOOM and I sort of fell upon it like a drunken moose on a grocery store, and may have missed some of the awesomeness. go read it anyway.
(...I keep trying to type Favors, and I have checked the book reflexively at least three times now in a very small space of time. aaaand we're...moving on.)
anyway. even if it were nothing but Dresden/Thomas slashfic (...shudder...ok, maybe not that far), I would still sing the praises of Jim Butcher, because of this paragraph:
"You don't do oceanography for the money," I said. "And you sure as hell don't take up working with dolphins and whales for the vast paycheck and the company car." I shook my head. "They love them. Someone's gone in every day. They'll at least have broken a foot trail."
Uh huh. That's right.
Dresden's rocking the oceanography love. I may have indulged in a girly cry of glee. I may have refused to explain to The Boy why. I may disavow all knowledge of girly cries of glee in the future. I may reread the book tomorrow instead of studying for my organic chemistry quiz.
oh, shush. it's all NMR. (or as my class calls it, NMFR...Not More Freaking spectRoscopy.) not only have we had it drilled in our brains from first semester, but...I had Brad at Luther. the NMR penguins are permanently attached to the iceberg. I could have total long-term amnesia and I would still be able to do NMR problems. OChem + Luther = ouch.
besides. dresden. oceanography. love.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
ba da daaaaaaaa!
What can this mean?! oh, yes. I finally rearranged the disaster area formerly known as my desk AND hunted down the software CD bundle AND hunted down the drivers I needed to make my tablet happy with the mac and THUS was born the 0100 doodle.
be afraid. be very afraid.
Friday, April 04, 2008
she blinded me...with SCIENCE!
Science Badges. like girl scout badges, only...way, way, way cooler.
The “I may look like a scientist, but I’m actually also a pirate” badge.
Drinks rum. Into pillaging and stuff. Soft spot for evolutionary biology. (J)
The “I actually grew up AND became a marine biologist” badge.
Out of the millions of children who aspire to work with dolphins and their ilk, this recipient is actually someone who does precisely that.
The “I’ve set fire to stuff” badge (LEVEL I).
In which the recipient has set fire to stuff, all in the name of general scientific curiosity. (AB)
The “I’ve set fire to stuff” badge (LEVEL II).
In which the recipient has set fire to stuff, while fully aware of all combustion principles at play. (AB)
The “I’ve set fire to stuff” badge (LEVEL III).
In which the recipient has set fire to stuff, while fully aware of all thermodynamic principles at play. (AB)
The “I’ve touched human internal organs with my own hands” badge.
In which the recipient is “hopefully” doing something that is somehow related to human health. (JH)
The “inordinately fond of invertebrates” badge.
In which the recipient professes an arguably unhealthy affinity for things of this category.
The “totally digs highly exothermic reactions” badge.
Might be best to keep an eye on such recipients. (JM)
The “somewhat confused as to what scientific field I actually belong to” badge
Also known as the transdiscplinary, interdiscplinary, or intradisciplinary badge. (D)
The “I’m into telescopes astro” badge (LEVEL I)
In which the recipient has used a telescope to view celestial objects. (SS)
The “statistical linear regression” badge.
We figured that if you actually know what those three words together mean, then you deserve a badge. Statistics rock! (NG)
The “destroyer of quackery” badge.
In which the recipient never ever backs down from an argument that pits sound science over quackery.
The “has frozen stuff just to see what happens” badge (LEVEL I)
In which the recipient has frozen something in the freezer for the sake of scientific curiosity. (JL)
The “I know what a tadpole is” badge.
In which the recipient knows what a tadpole is. Basically, an easy way to get a badge that looks a little like the semen one above.
The “talking science” badge.
Required for all members. Assumes the recipient conducts himself/herself in such a manner as to talk science whenever he/she gets the chance. Not easily fazed by looks of disinterest from friends or the act of “zoning out” by well intentioned loved ones. (DN)
The “MacGyver” badge.
In which the recipient has demonstrated that his/her science communciation prowess was handy in simplifying a potentially challenging scenario. For example, was able to escape from unjustified prison term, with the clever use of a paper clip and WD-40. You know, that kind of thing. (Note that display of badge must be accompanied by explanation). (JN)
The “arts and crafts” badge.
Because you can’t have a bunch of badges without an arts and crafts badge. This one assumes the recipient has all manner of “craftiness” with a sciencegeek twist. (AC)
The “I’m pretty confident around an open flame” badge.
Recipients have demonstrated proficiency around open flames in laboratory settings.
The “inappropriate nocturnal use of lab equipment in the name of alternative science experimentation / communication” badge.
In which the recipient has “borrowed” scientific supplies for the sake of stealth scientific communication. (JG)
and for my eligibility for the MacGyver badge, I submit to you the entirety of my Turks and Caicos turtle research career; and if that doesn't qualify me, I think those who occupy the ranks of MacGyver-badge-holders are very few.
The “I may look like a scientist, but I’m actually also a pirate” badge.
Drinks rum. Into pillaging and stuff. Soft spot for evolutionary biology. (J)
The “I actually grew up AND became a marine biologist” badge.
Out of the millions of children who aspire to work with dolphins and their ilk, this recipient is actually someone who does precisely that.
The “I’ve set fire to stuff” badge (LEVEL I).
In which the recipient has set fire to stuff, all in the name of general scientific curiosity. (AB)
The “I’ve set fire to stuff” badge (LEVEL II).
In which the recipient has set fire to stuff, while fully aware of all combustion principles at play. (AB)
The “I’ve set fire to stuff” badge (LEVEL III).
In which the recipient has set fire to stuff, while fully aware of all thermodynamic principles at play. (AB)
The “I’ve touched human internal organs with my own hands” badge.
In which the recipient is “hopefully” doing something that is somehow related to human health. (JH)
The “inordinately fond of invertebrates” badge.
In which the recipient professes an arguably unhealthy affinity for things of this category.
The “totally digs highly exothermic reactions” badge.
Might be best to keep an eye on such recipients. (JM)
The “somewhat confused as to what scientific field I actually belong to” badge
Also known as the transdiscplinary, interdiscplinary, or intradisciplinary badge. (D)
The “I’m into telescopes astro” badge (LEVEL I)
In which the recipient has used a telescope to view celestial objects. (SS)
The “statistical linear regression” badge.
We figured that if you actually know what those three words together mean, then you deserve a badge. Statistics rock! (NG)
The “destroyer of quackery” badge.
In which the recipient never ever backs down from an argument that pits sound science over quackery.
The “has frozen stuff just to see what happens” badge (LEVEL I)
In which the recipient has frozen something in the freezer for the sake of scientific curiosity. (JL)
The “I know what a tadpole is” badge.
In which the recipient knows what a tadpole is. Basically, an easy way to get a badge that looks a little like the semen one above.
The “talking science” badge.Required for all members. Assumes the recipient conducts himself/herself in such a manner as to talk science whenever he/she gets the chance. Not easily fazed by looks of disinterest from friends or the act of “zoning out” by well intentioned loved ones. (DN)
The “MacGyver” badge.In which the recipient has demonstrated that his/her science communciation prowess was handy in simplifying a potentially challenging scenario. For example, was able to escape from unjustified prison term, with the clever use of a paper clip and WD-40. You know, that kind of thing. (Note that display of badge must be accompanied by explanation). (JN)
The “arts and crafts” badge.
Because you can’t have a bunch of badges without an arts and crafts badge. This one assumes the recipient has all manner of “craftiness” with a sciencegeek twist. (AC)
The “I’m pretty confident around an open flame” badge.
Recipients have demonstrated proficiency around open flames in laboratory settings.
The “inappropriate nocturnal use of lab equipment in the name of alternative science experimentation / communication” badge.
In which the recipient has “borrowed” scientific supplies for the sake of stealth scientific communication. (JG)
and for my eligibility for the MacGyver badge, I submit to you the entirety of my Turks and Caicos turtle research career; and if that doesn't qualify me, I think those who occupy the ranks of MacGyver-badge-holders are very few.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
antonio banderas?
...you got nothin' on Guy Williams. (who needs to come rescue this Californian from the horrible colonial oppression of Physics before I pack up my crap and stow away on the Robert C Seamans. Professor Wittig, Captain Chris, you'll hide me, right? right?)
Thursday, March 27, 2008
you know it's bad when...
...your lab notes say "Try to answer the "prelaboratory assignments" on page 379. That would be a good test your ideas are not too confused to successfully write the lab report."
...this is after a good hour's lecture before lab and about 4 hours of actual experimenting.
...also note that lab itself is supposed to be from 1300 to 1615, or 3.25 hours, and 4+1=5 hours...
anyway. On to some Stefanoisms! (pearls of wisdom from the short italian physicist doomed to (try to) teach us physics labs for crimes unknown.)
I was trying to give you an intuitive explanation, but, it doesn't exist.
and the book, it explains- *pause* no, it does not explain, but, it's an article of faith, which, being Easter...*shrugs*
...this is after a good hour's lecture before lab and about 4 hours of actual experimenting.
...also note that lab itself is supposed to be from 1300 to 1615, or 3.25 hours, and 4+1=5 hours...
anyway. On to some Stefanoisms! (pearls of wisdom from the short italian physicist doomed to (try to) teach us physics labs for crimes unknown.)
I was trying to give you an intuitive explanation, but, it doesn't exist.
and the book, it explains- *pause* no, it does not explain, but, it's an article of faith, which, being Easter...*shrugs*
Saturday, March 22, 2008
I like this.
From Frode's mom- St Theresa's prayer. (I think I remember that right).
as always, feel free to substitute God with god, mama ocean, goddess, dog, the inscrutable exhortations of your soul (I love Calvin and Hobbes), the cosmos, or whatever you like.
May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be confident knowing you are a child of God.
Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.
I also added "on the path" between 'exactly' and 'where' because I'm not so big on the preordained giant-finger-from-the-sky-stand-on-this-x-here-and-thou-shalt-receive god.
as always, feel free to substitute God with god, mama ocean, goddess, dog, the inscrutable exhortations of your soul (I love Calvin and Hobbes), the cosmos, or whatever you like.
May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be confident knowing you are a child of God.
Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.
I also added "on the path" between 'exactly' and 'where' because I'm not so big on the preordained giant-finger-from-the-sky-stand-on-this-x-here-and-thou-shalt-receive god.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Dear Tilli Tomas:
I love your yarn. It is beautiful. I mean, really- silver-colored silk with chips of turquoise? (exotica: atmosphere) Orangy-coppery-amber with chips of a similar color, but translucent? (exotica: novea melon) And winding the orange skein on the bus on my way to ochem lab, when the sun hit the silk and the chips, and it just …glowed… mmm. It made me very happy.
Happy enough that I almost- almost- stopped gritting my teeth hard enough to hurt.
Almost.
The reason? There was no continuity in the plying of the silk yarn and the thin string upon which the chips were strung. Sometimes very tight. Sometimes so loose as to be nonexistent, and running in parallel. Which meant that all the little chips would slide down into a clump, and then they would twist around other little clumps, and become totally enmeshed in a giant clump of deadly, teeth-gritting, stress-inducing annoyance. And I couldn’t get it on a swift. Although that was probably a good thing, since it allowed me to fiddle and poke and resist-the-urge-to-rip-and-instead-untangle all the aforementioned bits of annoyance.
Most of which could have been avoided by a more careful control of the spinning. Or plying.
And seriously, at 40 dollars a skein? I kinda expect it to be well-spun.
Not (in places) a length of fiber running parallel to a string strung with stone chips- you know, something that I could have made for the cost of some orange string, a bag of stone bead/chips, and a skein of silk yarn. Say, 10 bucks total. 15 if the beads/chips were high-end.
Happy enough that I almost- almost- stopped gritting my teeth hard enough to hurt.
Almost.
The reason? There was no continuity in the plying of the silk yarn and the thin string upon which the chips were strung. Sometimes very tight. Sometimes so loose as to be nonexistent, and running in parallel. Which meant that all the little chips would slide down into a clump, and then they would twist around other little clumps, and become totally enmeshed in a giant clump of deadly, teeth-gritting, stress-inducing annoyance. And I couldn’t get it on a swift. Although that was probably a good thing, since it allowed me to fiddle and poke and resist-the-urge-to-rip-and-instead-untangle all the aforementioned bits of annoyance.
Most of which could have been avoided by a more careful control of the spinning. Or plying.
And seriously, at 40 dollars a skein? I kinda expect it to be well-spun.
Not (in places) a length of fiber running parallel to a string strung with stone chips- you know, something that I could have made for the cost of some orange string, a bag of stone bead/chips, and a skein of silk yarn. Say, 10 bucks total. 15 if the beads/chips were high-end.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
*snarl*
marit SMASH.
again.
...will not elaborate just yet. involves physics. grrrrr.
dipped into youtube briefly to stop the must-kill cycle. fairly entertaining minnesotans for global warming video, even though I haaaate the barenaked ladies.
the heartland institute is so cute. patpat.
anyway. because, as always, the time spent on physics is inversely proportional and exponentially related to the mental faculty of the timespender, here's what makes me giggle and not want to indulge my id.
scrawny nordlænding: whaddya think?
VG-reader*: hm?
SN: you're reading the VG. whaddya think about the arts, lifestyle, stuff, sorta thing?
VG-r: I'm looking at bridge.
SN: why don'tcha have a mustache?
which, if you've ever spent any decent length of time in finnmark, makes you laugh. really hard.
*VG is a sort-of-newspaper, sort-of-US weekly, sort-of-magaziney thing published in Norway.
again.
...will not elaborate just yet. involves physics. grrrrr.
dipped into youtube briefly to stop the must-kill cycle. fairly entertaining minnesotans for global warming video, even though I haaaate the barenaked ladies.
the heartland institute is so cute. patpat.
anyway. because, as always, the time spent on physics is inversely proportional and exponentially related to the mental faculty of the timespender, here's what makes me giggle and not want to indulge my id.
scrawny nordlænding: whaddya think?
VG-reader*: hm?
SN: you're reading the VG. whaddya think about the arts, lifestyle, stuff, sorta thing?
VG-r: I'm looking at bridge.
SN: why don'tcha have a mustache?
which, if you've ever spent any decent length of time in finnmark, makes you laugh. really hard.
*VG is a sort-of-newspaper, sort-of-US weekly, sort-of-magaziney thing published in Norway.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Herbs! Herbs of Doom!
So I went away for the weekend and before I left, I glanced at the herb garden as I was filling its water tank and went...nah, it's ok for now. No Pollei harvest required (that is to say, done while on the way out the door like a thundering herd of turtles) (that probably tells you more than my mum wants you to know- still not quite sure how she survived my formative years).
Now, however, I could ignore it no longer. The cilantro was starting to creep into the couch, and the mint was beginning to reach for the door. (it's the most anemic mint I've ever seen. nothing like the mint I planted in the little pot outside, that laughed in the face of october, when the basil succumbed to colder evening temperatures, and then laughed in the face of november- at least until the scale insects (I think that's what they were, wee little flappy fidgety things that left the leaves and stems all shiny, although there were also a big crop of aphids and a few shiny golden aphidy looking things, although The Internet tells me that golden aphids aren't anywhere near me, geographically and climatologically speaking, although me + plants...you never know.) moved in and took everything over. even then, as I was ripping out roots (I'm going to plant a jasmine bush! ...don't look at me like that, james.) I saw some squared-off stubbornly green minty runners.) This mint has tiny little stemlets and very airily-spaced leaves, which are also minute. I'm sure that's just a function of the aerogarden's developers mucking about with the mint so that, towards the end of the herb garden lifecycle, they didn't have mint, parsley mint, two kinds of basil mint, cilantro mint, dill mint, and chives mint. (still. it's weird looking at it.)
(...that right there -^ is why Mrs Josephs threatened to make me buy parentheses in high school. it is so not my fault. I blame Cicero. parenthetical phrases in parenthetical phrases in parenthetical phrases in a foreign (dead!) language without punctuation in a legal defense spiel. yeah. my convoluted grammatical structure is "see jane. see jane run. run, jane, run." in comparison, and is merely a representation of my mental processes. and if you dare point out that Mrs Josephs was 10th grade and Cicero was college, I shall point accusingly at my lineage.)
I am currently constructing one of the most non-Kosher meal I can think of- teriyaki marinated pork tenderloin with mushroom risotto with a bacon-maple syrup glaze- which is ok, because The Boy and I are neither of us Jewish and we aren't expecting company. it's pretty non-Halal (Halam? Haram? I can't remember the word for non-halal), too, except that to my knowledge it's ok to have meat + dairy in the same meal/at the same time. Again, not that that makes any difference to us. But it popped into my head when I was putting away the icing that I used to make cookies and saw the little K mark and went...duh...sugar + water + food coloring, how can it not be kosher? (and then I remembered that animal-based gelatins = bad, and while you'd still not expect them to be in icing, you never know with the candy industry.) and it's Friday, so it's good that The Boy and I aren't Catholic.
Anyway. I digress. A lot. (see aforementioned mention of 'indicative of my mental state'.)
The yarn I got for aunt helen's scarf is almost perfect. the colors look great and I love the fact that the colorway I want to do to knit a haida/tlingit styled raven is called 'haida.'
just one problem.
it's superwash.
in a felted scarf.
...this could be a problem. My task after finishing food and finishing my lab (curse you, physics!!!...oh, physics. physics, physics, physics...that's a blog post of a different color. one requiring looots of -OH groups. preferably dark, pint-sized, with a thick creamy 'stach-inducing head.) is to peer around the blue moon fiber arts website and see if they don't make a non-superwash yarn in that colorway.
although that's for after a bit of cleaning.
Now, however, I could ignore it no longer. The cilantro was starting to creep into the couch, and the mint was beginning to reach for the door. (it's the most anemic mint I've ever seen. nothing like the mint I planted in the little pot outside, that laughed in the face of october, when the basil succumbed to colder evening temperatures, and then laughed in the face of november- at least until the scale insects (I think that's what they were, wee little flappy fidgety things that left the leaves and stems all shiny, although there were also a big crop of aphids and a few shiny golden aphidy looking things, although The Internet tells me that golden aphids aren't anywhere near me, geographically and climatologically speaking, although me + plants...you never know.) moved in and took everything over. even then, as I was ripping out roots (I'm going to plant a jasmine bush! ...don't look at me like that, james.) I saw some squared-off stubbornly green minty runners.) This mint has tiny little stemlets and very airily-spaced leaves, which are also minute. I'm sure that's just a function of the aerogarden's developers mucking about with the mint so that, towards the end of the herb garden lifecycle, they didn't have mint, parsley mint, two kinds of basil mint, cilantro mint, dill mint, and chives mint. (still. it's weird looking at it.)
(...that right there -^ is why Mrs Josephs threatened to make me buy parentheses in high school. it is so not my fault. I blame Cicero. parenthetical phrases in parenthetical phrases in parenthetical phrases in a foreign (dead!) language without punctuation in a legal defense spiel. yeah. my convoluted grammatical structure is "see jane. see jane run. run, jane, run." in comparison, and is merely a representation of my mental processes. and if you dare point out that Mrs Josephs was 10th grade and Cicero was college, I shall point accusingly at my lineage.)
I am currently constructing one of the most non-Kosher meal I can think of- teriyaki marinated pork tenderloin with mushroom risotto with a bacon-maple syrup glaze- which is ok, because The Boy and I are neither of us Jewish and we aren't expecting company. it's pretty non-Halal (Halam? Haram? I can't remember the word for non-halal), too, except that to my knowledge it's ok to have meat + dairy in the same meal/at the same time. Again, not that that makes any difference to us. But it popped into my head when I was putting away the icing that I used to make cookies and saw the little K mark and went...duh...sugar + water + food coloring, how can it not be kosher? (and then I remembered that animal-based gelatins = bad, and while you'd still not expect them to be in icing, you never know with the candy industry.) and it's Friday, so it's good that The Boy and I aren't Catholic.
Anyway. I digress. A lot. (see aforementioned mention of 'indicative of my mental state'.)
The yarn I got for aunt helen's scarf is almost perfect. the colors look great and I love the fact that the colorway I want to do to knit a haida/tlingit styled raven is called 'haida.'
just one problem.
it's superwash.
in a felted scarf.
...this could be a problem. My task after finishing food and finishing my lab (curse you, physics!!!...oh, physics. physics, physics, physics...that's a blog post of a different color. one requiring looots of -OH groups. preferably dark, pint-sized, with a thick creamy 'stach-inducing head.) is to peer around the blue moon fiber arts website and see if they don't make a non-superwash yarn in that colorway.
although that's for after a bit of cleaning.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
cis-norbornene-5,6-endo-dicarboxylic anhydride
...so, who wants to do my organic chemistry labs for me?
c'mon.
you know you want to...
in other news-
Northstar at Tahoe stole my Jayne Hat. was sad day. snif.
My worries about the white fuzz on Aristarchus's fins and the two dots on his gill plates were not unfounded. The combination of fuzz + original tank's filter dying + emergency move to new tank did him in over the weekend. sad day. snif.
(and against all odds...one shrimp is still alive, having magically reappeared in the tank after I was certain that they'd all been eaten. it's now wandering around going ...wtf? where's the plants/decorations/etc? where's the giant black scary bringer-of-death?! oh, merciful bounty of food! namnam*snrarlf*namnam)
Auburn Alehouse = really good fish and chips. good day.
Phronima and La Grenouille survived the weekend sans food and light. good day.
c'mon.
you know you want to...
in other news-
Northstar at Tahoe stole my Jayne Hat. was sad day. snif.
My worries about the white fuzz on Aristarchus's fins and the two dots on his gill plates were not unfounded. The combination of fuzz + original tank's filter dying + emergency move to new tank did him in over the weekend. sad day. snif.
(and against all odds...one shrimp is still alive, having magically reappeared in the tank after I was certain that they'd all been eaten. it's now wandering around going ...wtf? where's the plants/decorations/etc? where's the giant black scary bringer-of-death?! oh, merciful bounty of food! namnam*snrarlf*namnam)
Auburn Alehouse = really good fish and chips. good day.
Phronima and La Grenouille survived the weekend sans food and light. good day.
Monday, March 03, 2008
sometimes...
...the internet can be beautiful.
a webcomic that I recently (relatively so, anyway) discovered has a comment page. The webcomic itself, Gunnerkrigg Court, is a sort of science/magic/technology/mythology thing that is very prettily drawn. (it reminds me of the cel shading on Windwaker).
anyway. the comic today is somewhat of a setup for a man-science-technology versus land-earth-magic debate, and one person commented about how so often we deem it unacceptable or wrong or bad to admit that something might not be answerable. that we might not be able to find an answer to A or B, and that rather than freaking out about it, we should not think that it is such a terrible fate. that it's ok to not know, and that technology probably shouldn't be the be all, end all of our questions. That person made an analogy to enjoying a sunset or a rainbow, and being annoyed when someone pointed out that those things are created by light reflecting off of water and pollution and other things in the air, etc- they wanted to just enjoy the sunset or the rainbow. there was a footnote, too, saying that for something like cancer, though, they would want to know everything possible, as fast as possible, so that it could be eradicated faster.
there were some of your typical "I disagree" posts in varying degrees of politeness, of course- this is the internet.
and then there was this post by refugee, a response to the original rant-about-the-absoluteness-of-knowledge post-
...if you want to cure cancer, you have to know how the rainbow works, and the work only gets done by people who love the explanation as much as they love the rainbow.
and I paused, and went...yes. very true.
I wish that something like that could be printed in every science textbook, because every so often I hear people's reasons for why they're studying what they're studying or working where they're working and I cringe- like the guy in my last physics class who is going to med school to get his MD...so that he can get his PhD in psychology. he has no desire to practice medicine, ever.
that terrifies me. and saddens me. and makes me go...but...but...but...
It's like when I was trying to teach my small language group about the international polar year so that we could make an advertisement for it for one of our evening programs. I told them of our task, and then of our topic (IPY), and they groaned. They didn't want something boring, they wanted something cool, like kvikklunsj (norwegian KitKat) or kosetime (activity period). I said no way, dude, IPY is so much cooler than kvikklunsj or kosetime, and started explaining what it was and why it was so much cooler than it sounded initially.
and I got a 12-13 year old girl shrug/sigh and a "whatever, let's just do something easy and get it over with" in response. I felt like I'd been punched in the sternum, and it wasn't until much later that summer that I really realized how much it hurt.
much later that summer I was asked to guest-teach a class, again about IPY or something similar, and I was very nervous because...why were they going to care? they were even younger than my small group, there were more of them, and really- learning about foreign concepts in a foreign language is not the easiest of things to do. especially at 10. but I prepared (sort of. I had lots of colors of whiteboard markers and a small whiteboard. that counts for a lot, at times.) and I walked over to give my spiel. I had games planned. the great old standard, bop- (i.e. shout someone else's name so the 'it' person doesn't tag you and has to run to them), pictionary*, etc.
we didn't get to any of them.
instead, they derailed me into a discussion about oceanography and how currents shape the weather/ photosynthesis/ el nino-la nina-el viejo/ and and and...all stuff that I had just spent a semester studying. and not just "ocean big, ocean make wind go, little things in ocean make big things in ocean, us eat big things, what do you think?" (that's what I started with, but they kept asking questions, and I'd answer them, and they'd ask different questions, etc.)
when I found myself trying desperately to think of the norwegian words for diel vertical migration and carbon sequestering, my brain sort of shut down. I remembered that I was talking to 9-10 year olds. (what is that, second grade? third?). my fellow counselors were looking a little strangely at me. I stopped. I took a deep breath. I made a little joke about needing to stop me before I get to geek-out mode, and sorry for the digression, and mentally added the comment of "Norwegian camp. where you're supposed to be using Norwegian primarily and English secondarily." (that's really hard to do when you're in mid-geekout. try it.) I tried getting back on track- (oh, look! norway has an arctic indigenous culture- quick! tell me what you think of that! look! so does the US!).
they revolted. "but why does [the carbon] go to the bottom?" "does norway have el nino?" "where does el nino come from?" "how can you see [algae] from space if they're so little?" ...and they didn't stop until it was time for dinner. They went to the dining hall, and I went to the staff lounge to drop off my whiteboard in a daze. a daze, yes, but an energetic daze. it had been so much fun, and I felt great and excited and some of my fellow staff members were looking at me going...what are you on, and why aren't you sharing?...I was on the rush of teaching something I love to kids, and they were getting into it.
I don't know if any of them are going to remember much of it. I hope they are, or at least enough that at some point down the line they'll hear a snippet of information in class or read a paragraph or see a Jeopardy question and go "hey- coasts like norway are productive because upwelling brings nutrients to the upper waters and the big fish follow the little fish that follow the plankton that follow the nutrients."
or maybe they'll just go "DVM...DVM...why does that sound so familiar?"
and I'll be content with that. if I can be a source of the random 'pop-up-in-the-brain' factoids, I'm happy.
*pictionary is a very strange looking word. picture-dictionary, yes, but also...brings to mind some tweedy professor studying the battle tactics and civilization of the picts. my brain is wired strangely.
a webcomic that I recently (relatively so, anyway) discovered has a comment page. The webcomic itself, Gunnerkrigg Court, is a sort of science/magic/technology/mythology thing that is very prettily drawn. (it reminds me of the cel shading on Windwaker).
anyway. the comic today is somewhat of a setup for a man-science-technology versus land-earth-magic debate, and one person commented about how so often we deem it unacceptable or wrong or bad to admit that something might not be answerable. that we might not be able to find an answer to A or B, and that rather than freaking out about it, we should not think that it is such a terrible fate. that it's ok to not know, and that technology probably shouldn't be the be all, end all of our questions. That person made an analogy to enjoying a sunset or a rainbow, and being annoyed when someone pointed out that those things are created by light reflecting off of water and pollution and other things in the air, etc- they wanted to just enjoy the sunset or the rainbow. there was a footnote, too, saying that for something like cancer, though, they would want to know everything possible, as fast as possible, so that it could be eradicated faster.
there were some of your typical "I disagree" posts in varying degrees of politeness, of course- this is the internet.
and then there was this post by refugee, a response to the original rant-about-the-absoluteness-of-knowledge post-
...if you want to cure cancer, you have to know how the rainbow works, and the work only gets done by people who love the explanation as much as they love the rainbow.
and I paused, and went...yes. very true.
I wish that something like that could be printed in every science textbook, because every so often I hear people's reasons for why they're studying what they're studying or working where they're working and I cringe- like the guy in my last physics class who is going to med school to get his MD...so that he can get his PhD in psychology. he has no desire to practice medicine, ever.
that terrifies me. and saddens me. and makes me go...but...but...but...
It's like when I was trying to teach my small language group about the international polar year so that we could make an advertisement for it for one of our evening programs. I told them of our task, and then of our topic (IPY), and they groaned. They didn't want something boring, they wanted something cool, like kvikklunsj (norwegian KitKat) or kosetime (activity period). I said no way, dude, IPY is so much cooler than kvikklunsj or kosetime, and started explaining what it was and why it was so much cooler than it sounded initially.
and I got a 12-13 year old girl shrug/sigh and a "whatever, let's just do something easy and get it over with" in response. I felt like I'd been punched in the sternum, and it wasn't until much later that summer that I really realized how much it hurt.
much later that summer I was asked to guest-teach a class, again about IPY or something similar, and I was very nervous because...why were they going to care? they were even younger than my small group, there were more of them, and really- learning about foreign concepts in a foreign language is not the easiest of things to do. especially at 10. but I prepared (sort of. I had lots of colors of whiteboard markers and a small whiteboard. that counts for a lot, at times.) and I walked over to give my spiel. I had games planned. the great old standard, bop- (i.e. shout someone else's name so the 'it' person doesn't tag you and has to run to them), pictionary*, etc.
we didn't get to any of them.
instead, they derailed me into a discussion about oceanography and how currents shape the weather/ photosynthesis/ el nino-la nina-el viejo/ and and and...all stuff that I had just spent a semester studying. and not just "ocean big, ocean make wind go, little things in ocean make big things in ocean, us eat big things, what do you think?" (that's what I started with, but they kept asking questions, and I'd answer them, and they'd ask different questions, etc.)
when I found myself trying desperately to think of the norwegian words for diel vertical migration and carbon sequestering, my brain sort of shut down. I remembered that I was talking to 9-10 year olds. (what is that, second grade? third?). my fellow counselors were looking a little strangely at me. I stopped. I took a deep breath. I made a little joke about needing to stop me before I get to geek-out mode, and sorry for the digression, and mentally added the comment of "Norwegian camp. where you're supposed to be using Norwegian primarily and English secondarily." (that's really hard to do when you're in mid-geekout. try it.) I tried getting back on track- (oh, look! norway has an arctic indigenous culture- quick! tell me what you think of that! look! so does the US!).
they revolted. "but why does [the carbon] go to the bottom?" "does norway have el nino?" "where does el nino come from?" "how can you see [algae] from space if they're so little?" ...and they didn't stop until it was time for dinner. They went to the dining hall, and I went to the staff lounge to drop off my whiteboard in a daze. a daze, yes, but an energetic daze. it had been so much fun, and I felt great and excited and some of my fellow staff members were looking at me going...what are you on, and why aren't you sharing?...I was on the rush of teaching something I love to kids, and they were getting into it.
I don't know if any of them are going to remember much of it. I hope they are, or at least enough that at some point down the line they'll hear a snippet of information in class or read a paragraph or see a Jeopardy question and go "hey- coasts like norway are productive because upwelling brings nutrients to the upper waters and the big fish follow the little fish that follow the plankton that follow the nutrients."
or maybe they'll just go "DVM...DVM...why does that sound so familiar?"
and I'll be content with that. if I can be a source of the random 'pop-up-in-the-brain' factoids, I'm happy.
*pictionary is a very strange looking word. picture-dictionary, yes, but also...brings to mind some tweedy professor studying the battle tactics and civilization of the picts. my brain is wired strangely.
Friday, February 29, 2008
creepy...
I have a phrase-o-th-day calendar on my desk. It's 365 days of latin fun. Whee!
today, on this leap day, we get to rejoice in this phrase:
Dei pia facta vident.
or, someone is watching.
...creepy.
I like January 21 a lot better.
Carmina morte carent. songs do not die. ah, Ovid.
some others:
Deliberando saepe perit occasio. let's get down to business. (or, literally, Break out a bottle!) (...this is why I like latin.)
Absolvi meam animan. I have set my mind free.
some days I feel like shouting this:
Nemo scit praeter me ubi soccus me pressat. no one but me knows where my shoe hurts. (i.e. don't tell me what's bothering me.)
The day before my physics exam, I got this:
Dicta docta pro datis. words are cheap.
And if you're feeling existential:
Quid hoc sibi vult? what does this mean?
(and Cave Madidissimus- beware of supersoakers! ...well, beware of soaked-est. I'm still brainfried from physics midterms, shush.)
And more XKCD!
hehehehehe. you know it's true.
And while I don't advocate this, and might not usually find it as entertaining as I did, but you know, a physics midterm sort of skews your mindset a bit.
and it was hilarious to read in the midst of figuring out the equivalent resistivity of nasty resistor/capacitor circuits.
now go click the linky and enjoy.
today, on this leap day, we get to rejoice in this phrase:
Dei pia facta vident.
or, someone is watching.
...creepy.
I like January 21 a lot better.
Carmina morte carent. songs do not die. ah, Ovid.
some others:
Deliberando saepe perit occasio. let's get down to business. (or, literally, Break out a bottle!) (...this is why I like latin.)
Absolvi meam animan. I have set my mind free.
some days I feel like shouting this:
Nemo scit praeter me ubi soccus me pressat. no one but me knows where my shoe hurts. (i.e. don't tell me what's bothering me.)
The day before my physics exam, I got this:
Dicta docta pro datis. words are cheap.
And if you're feeling existential:
Quid hoc sibi vult? what does this mean?
(and Cave Madidissimus- beware of supersoakers! ...well, beware of soaked-est. I'm still brainfried from physics midterms, shush.)
And more XKCD!
hehehehehe. you know it's true.And while I don't advocate this, and might not usually find it as entertaining as I did, but you know, a physics midterm sort of skews your mindset a bit.
and it was hilarious to read in the midst of figuring out the equivalent resistivity of nasty resistor/capacitor circuits.now go click the linky and enjoy.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Midterm in T- 5 hours...eeeeep.
taking a break from studying to give you what should be entertaining professor quotes (but we've already discussed that...)
instead, you get entertaining comics from XKCD. Go clicky.
First, something that made me laugh and then cringe, because it's physics...
yep.
and also made me think about physics, since it's been a ridiculously long time since I played any MarioKart. (ok, since I failed-at-playing MarioKart, let's be honest).
just replace the "MarioKart" wedge with "MasteringPhysics."
this one is for my mum.
Because it is oh so true:
you know it's true. if you don't, beware becoming entrapped in...The Wikipedia Loop...
and because I do occasionally mourn the loss of the Best Couch Fort Furniture Ever...
(my parent's basement furniture. papasan chairs and two couches with removable cushions, and after a few years, a secret door because the wooden slats were 'removable.' good stable cushions, too, not floppy (well, the papasan cushions were floppy, but that's beside the point.)
and who wouldn't want an apartment full of the little plastic balls? ...that's assuming they were new, and hadn't been living in a fast food playpen for years.)
and lastly:
enjoy.
I'm going to go bury my face in the care package mom sent me (O'boy and yarn. and quarters. and tea. and Chef. and scrabble earrings and a wee little enamellert skilpadde.) and then...go back to studying.
instead, you get entertaining comics from XKCD. Go clicky.
First, something that made me laugh and then cringe, because it's physics...
yep.and also made me think about physics, since it's been a ridiculously long time since I played any MarioKart. (ok, since I failed-at-playing MarioKart, let's be honest).
just replace the "MarioKart" wedge with "MasteringPhysics."this one is for my mum.
Because it is oh so true:
you know it's true. if you don't, beware becoming entrapped in...The Wikipedia Loop...and because I do occasionally mourn the loss of the Best Couch Fort Furniture Ever...
(my parent's basement furniture. papasan chairs and two couches with removable cushions, and after a few years, a secret door because the wooden slats were 'removable.' good stable cushions, too, not floppy (well, the papasan cushions were floppy, but that's beside the point.)and who wouldn't want an apartment full of the little plastic balls? ...that's assuming they were new, and hadn't been living in a fast food playpen for years.)
and lastly:
enjoy.I'm going to go bury my face in the care package mom sent me (O'boy and yarn. and quarters. and tea. and Chef. and scrabble earrings and a wee little enamellert skilpadde.) and then...go back to studying.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Life imitating TV. or...no...
So...I have a physics exam in 36 hours. roughly.
Usually this means entertaining physics prof quotes, but...I have none.
Unless you count laughing inanely at questions asked by students, and that's not really entertaining. especially when the question is not, then, y'know, answered.
Anyway. Elliot came over to pick up his FastPass and stayed to watch a stargate episode. We started out with a computer-entity-enter-the-matrixy episode, but The Boy's computer was not being friendly with the Xbox so we switched (to the glee of Elliot and myself) to the "Window of Opportunity" episode, where a chunk of the universe gets stuck in a "bubble" of a 6-hr time loop a la groundhog day, and only two of the characters are aware of it.
so military "I need that in captain-dummy talk' (to mix shows a bit) has to learn how to translate an alien language loosely based on Latin, which makes me giggle.
and there's this image (thank you, internet, you might be a scary scary place, but when you
really need something (and you're willing to dig, which can be...scary...) you can find it).
every time this shot is shown on the screen, I giggle. or snicker. it depends on the level of brain function available to me. after a day of studying for physics...it's a giggle.
(although the soul patch/goateelet (kidlet?) has. got. to. go.)
some video clips (yay youtube!):
and here's a good analog of my mental reactions to physics anything right now...
and because there was no short clip of the latin,
and...not from any episode, but...c'mon. you were so thinking it.
and with this, I am forcibly removing myself from the internet.
Usually this means entertaining physics prof quotes, but...I have none.
Unless you count laughing inanely at questions asked by students, and that's not really entertaining. especially when the question is not, then, y'know, answered.
Anyway. Elliot came over to pick up his FastPass and stayed to watch a stargate episode. We started out with a computer-entity-enter-the-matrixy episode, but The Boy's computer was not being friendly with the Xbox so we switched (to the glee of Elliot and myself) to the "Window of Opportunity" episode, where a chunk of the universe gets stuck in a "bubble" of a 6-hr time loop a la groundhog day, and only two of the characters are aware of it.
so military "I need that in captain-dummy talk' (to mix shows a bit) has to learn how to translate an alien language loosely based on Latin, which makes me giggle.
and there's this image (thank you, internet, you might be a scary scary place, but when you
really need something (and you're willing to dig, which can be...scary...) you can find it).every time this shot is shown on the screen, I giggle. or snicker. it depends on the level of brain function available to me. after a day of studying for physics...it's a giggle.
(although the soul patch/goateelet (kidlet?) has. got. to. go.)
some video clips (yay youtube!):
and here's a good analog of my mental reactions to physics anything right now...
and because there was no short clip of the latin,
and...not from any episode, but...c'mon. you were so thinking it.
and with this, I am forcibly removing myself from the internet.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
quick, before I have to take the car in...again...
| What Be Your Nerd Type? Your Result: Literature Nerd Does sitting by a nice cozy fire, with a cup of hot tea/chocolate, and a book you can read for hours even when your eyes grow red and dry and you look sort of scary sitting there with your insomniac appearance? Then you fit this category perfectly! You love the power of the written word and it's eloquence; and you may like to read/write poetry or novels. You contribute to the smart people of today's society, however you can probably be overly-critical of works. | |
| Gamer/Computer Nerd | |
| Artistic Nerd | |
| Musician | |
| Science/Math Nerd | |
| Drama Nerd | |
| Social Nerd | |
| Anime Nerd | |
| What Be Your Nerd Type? Quizzes for MySpace | |
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Certifiable.
eyep. why now? because I'm trying to sprout a mango.
mmm, mango.
I miss real mangos. I was at Whole Foods staring at the mangos (this was the fateful Day Of The Door, which I didn't actually blog about, because it was just too horrible), trying to figure out which of the rock-hard greeny red globs were ripe, when I heaved a heavy sigh. The woman standing next to me said "So I take it that means I can't ask you how to tell when they're ripe?" I said no, and that these mangos looked nothing like the mangos I got used to on the RCS.
And by the time the mango was ripe, I'd eaten all the coconut rice pudding, and now the mango's overripe, which means my options are 1) stirfry that baby up with some chili, onions, and peanut sauce to go along with the pork tenderloin currently in the oven or 2) take it, a can of whipped cream, and my naked self to the tub (or ocean) and eat it (so sayeth the internet...).
I'm going for option one, because I'm not a fan of canned whipped cream (and whipped cream + mango doesn't sound that appealing) and because my tub is too little and I think that whole suggestion was based on the assumption that the eater was between the ages of 2 and 6, or at least possessed of the dexterity of a 2-6 year old.
anyone know whether mango/mangos/mangoes is like tomato/tomatos/tomatoes? because mangoes looks wrong, but isn't underlined by the Red Spellcheck Line Of Death.
although it could just be me looking at 'mangoes' and mentally translating into 'mangøs' and then trying to figure out what that means.
mmm, mango.
I miss real mangos. I was at Whole Foods staring at the mangos (this was the fateful Day Of The Door, which I didn't actually blog about, because it was just too horrible), trying to figure out which of the rock-hard greeny red globs were ripe, when I heaved a heavy sigh. The woman standing next to me said "So I take it that means I can't ask you how to tell when they're ripe?" I said no, and that these mangos looked nothing like the mangos I got used to on the RCS.
And by the time the mango was ripe, I'd eaten all the coconut rice pudding, and now the mango's overripe, which means my options are 1) stirfry that baby up with some chili, onions, and peanut sauce to go along with the pork tenderloin currently in the oven or 2) take it, a can of whipped cream, and my naked self to the tub (or ocean) and eat it (so sayeth the internet...).
I'm going for option one, because I'm not a fan of canned whipped cream (and whipped cream + mango doesn't sound that appealing) and because my tub is too little and I think that whole suggestion was based on the assumption that the eater was between the ages of 2 and 6, or at least possessed of the dexterity of a 2-6 year old.
anyone know whether mango/mangos/mangoes is like tomato/tomatos/tomatoes? because mangoes looks wrong, but isn't underlined by the Red Spellcheck Line Of Death.
although it could just be me looking at 'mangoes' and mentally translating into 'mangøs' and then trying to figure out what that means.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
why my hair is not to be trusted...
recap:
I shower. I wash my hair. I wrap my head in towel for as long as it takes for it to decide to fall
off, which is usually about the time that I pick up my fourth article of clothing or try to find my glasses.
I go back to the computer and finish looking up the MSDS for the various chemicals I'm going to be using in lab today. (one of them is pyrophoric, and we all remember Brad's sage advice* regarding those...)
I wander into bathroom to brush hair before constructing food. glance in mirror. buh? usually my hair has gone mildly sproingy because of the lovely humidity of the recent shower, and when I brush it it de-sproingifies.
not this time. this time, one big chunk of hair has stubbornly decided it wants to channel shirley temple's evil darkhaired twin.
see?
(excuse the clouds, and the apparent gaping hole where my thyroid should be. I'm playing with iPhoto. or photo booth. or whatever it is.)
very stubbornly. I've brushed it multiple times. still ringlet. it looks decidedly odd with the rest of the still-damp-so-now-actually-very-straight hair.
as with the other Marit-versus-The Hair escapades, though, I've given up. it wins.
*"it's pyrophoric**, which means that if you drop it, it's a bomb. some of you are going to be synthetic chemists, and eventually during your career you will drop things. y'sorta play hackysack with it for awhile and if you think you're going to drop it, you run.
**pyrophoric = extremely flammable when exposed to air. whee!
I shower. I wash my hair. I wrap my head in towel for as long as it takes for it to decide to fall
off, which is usually about the time that I pick up my fourth article of clothing or try to find my glasses.
I go back to the computer and finish looking up the MSDS for the various chemicals I'm going to be using in lab today. (one of them is pyrophoric, and we all remember Brad's sage advice* regarding those...)
I wander into bathroom to brush hair before constructing food. glance in mirror. buh? usually my hair has gone mildly sproingy because of the lovely humidity of the recent shower, and when I brush it it de-sproingifies.
not this time. this time, one big chunk of hair has stubbornly decided it wants to channel shirley temple's evil darkhaired twin.
see?
(excuse the clouds, and the apparent gaping hole where my thyroid should be. I'm playing with iPhoto. or photo booth. or whatever it is.)very stubbornly. I've brushed it multiple times. still ringlet. it looks decidedly odd with the rest of the still-damp-so-now-actually-very-straight hair.
as with the other Marit-versus-The Hair escapades, though, I've given up. it wins.
*"it's pyrophoric**, which means that if you drop it, it's a bomb. some of you are going to be synthetic chemists, and eventually during your career you will drop things. y'sorta play hackysack with it for awhile and if you think you're going to drop it, you run.
**pyrophoric = extremely flammable when exposed to air. whee!
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