The Pulley: What part of simple don't you understand, pulley? You never track straight and you're never there when I need you. Also, do you know how hard you are to rig up in a jiffy? You suck. D
The Lever: Hypothetically, you can move the world with a long enough lever and a fulcrum on which to place it. People have been pondering that awesomeness for centuries, but the lever has never stepped up to the plate and actually done it. What a pussy. On the other hand, bored second graders can whip up a lever with a pencil and ruler and launch erasers at other people's heads. That I like. B+
The Inclined Plane: Inclined to do what, exactly? I had a lot of experience with inclined planes in Physics I, and they're inclined to just lie there while someone else does all the work. However, it makes movie theaters wheelchair-accessible. Props for that. C+
The Wedge: The wedge is more than the sum of its parts; never before have two inclined planes been so hardcore. The wedge is all about destruction and death metal, rawr! Wedges bring to mind axes, nails, incisors, ice picks, and gouda. A
The Screw: Why screw is a euphemism for sex, I do not know. It's not like the penis spins like a Japanese sex toy or anything. Since it is a euphemism, this simple machine conjures up ideas not meant for readers with delicate constitutions. That's pretty nifty. Also, I like how screws hold together vital bits of my house and refrigerator and remote control and other important things. A-
Friday, January 22, 2010
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Yes, I Can
I'M GOIN' BACK TO SCHOOL, Y'ALL!!!
I have been working for this since March of 2007. I took 10 science and math prerequisite classes, studied my ass off to earn all As, job-shadowed for over 140 hours, went through the application process twice, faced rejection once, and received an acceptance letter yesterday.
I start classes June 14, 2010, and I graduate in the spring of 2013 with a Doctorate in Physical Therapy.
I AM SO UN-FUCKING-BELIEVABLY HAPPY!!!
Yay!
I have been working for this since March of 2007. I took 10 science and math prerequisite classes, studied my ass off to earn all As, job-shadowed for over 140 hours, went through the application process twice, faced rejection once, and received an acceptance letter yesterday.
I start classes June 14, 2010, and I graduate in the spring of 2013 with a Doctorate in Physical Therapy.
I AM SO UN-FUCKING-BELIEVABLY HAPPY!!!
Yay!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Where the Sidewalk Ends
One of the things I miss about living in Bloomington (besides Aver's pizza, theatrical productions, lower humidity, hawt guys, and The Chocolate Moose) is the plethora of hiking trails, so on vacation in Acadia MacGyver and I made hiking a priority. A trail we had our eye on from the start was the Precipice Trail, widely considered the toughest hike in the park. We didn't attack it the very first day, we waited until I was lulled into a false sense of security after summitting Mount Penobscot.
When we hit the trailhead I read multiple warnings: hikers should turn back if they were prone to acrophobia, pets and small children were not allowed, and there was the risk of your heart exploding and the park service would not be the ones dragging your sorry ass out while you clutched your chest dramatically. Twenty feet in MacGyver had to turn back for a forgotten item, I said I'd wait there because I was not going to do that twenty feet again if I didn't have to. It was practically vertical! Well, it was definitely UPWARDS. As I waited for him a dragonfly the size of my forearm zoomed around some trees and charged me, and stopped to hover half an inch from my right ear. It sounded like a locust apocalypse, and I could just see it out of the corner of my eye, lurking like something from The Mist. I felt pretty awesome about it until my partner returned. I asked MacGyver if he'd ever been bitten by a dragonfly, and he reassured me that he had, and it hurts like a bitch.
The Precipice Trail is the hardest trail I've ever done. For half a mile I heaved my poor, pathetic body against the grain of gravity, and the one time I didn't maintain three points of contact I nearly lost my balance and hurtled to my death. At strategic points along the trail iron bars were drilled into the granite, creating ladders, handholds, and bridges. Several times I scooped up trail dust to combat sweaty palms, a hazard when clinging to a smooth iron rung bolted to a treacherous cliff face. The warning signs had not been joking around; I broke out in cold sweats more frequently as I ascended, calmed only with the promise that death would be swift if I fell.
Besides being an arduous death march, the Precipice Trail offers absolutely gorgeous views of the ocean, forests, and other mountains. I wished my mother could have seen this before she died, and felt heartbroken she was gone. Everyone knows it sucks to lose a loved one, but it's hard to comprehend the chronic missing-piece feeling that dogs you the rest of your life. Minutes later I came up behind a woman whose hair looked just like mom's did. It was bittersweet, feeling like I could see her but not touch her.
When we reached the summit the sky was turning gray, the temperature was dropping, and the breeze had a bite to it. I, however, was burning up, and stripped down to my camisole to cool off. We suspected the rain would start soon, but I was loathe to leave; I had made it to the top and I was going to stay on top. On the summit I had my picture taken with the mom-ish woman facing away from the camera, because that's the kind of freak I am. I chatted with her for a while and learned she and her husband live in Denver, and they were in Maine on a bicycle tour. I was secretly pleased she was a sweet lady. MacGyver and I took pictures and soaked in the views, and eventually headed down Mount Champlain the back way, getting a close-up of a squirrel on our way.
The Precipice Trail was jam-packed with beauty and danger, and I can't wait to hike it again.
When we hit the trailhead I read multiple warnings: hikers should turn back if they were prone to acrophobia, pets and small children were not allowed, and there was the risk of your heart exploding and the park service would not be the ones dragging your sorry ass out while you clutched your chest dramatically. Twenty feet in MacGyver had to turn back for a forgotten item, I said I'd wait there because I was not going to do that twenty feet again if I didn't have to. It was practically vertical! Well, it was definitely UPWARDS. As I waited for him a dragonfly the size of my forearm zoomed around some trees and charged me, and stopped to hover half an inch from my right ear. It sounded like a locust apocalypse, and I could just see it out of the corner of my eye, lurking like something from The Mist. I felt pretty awesome about it until my partner returned. I asked MacGyver if he'd ever been bitten by a dragonfly, and he reassured me that he had, and it hurts like a bitch.
The Precipice Trail is the hardest trail I've ever done. For half a mile I heaved my poor, pathetic body against the grain of gravity, and the one time I didn't maintain three points of contact I nearly lost my balance and hurtled to my death. At strategic points along the trail iron bars were drilled into the granite, creating ladders, handholds, and bridges. Several times I scooped up trail dust to combat sweaty palms, a hazard when clinging to a smooth iron rung bolted to a treacherous cliff face. The warning signs had not been joking around; I broke out in cold sweats more frequently as I ascended, calmed only with the promise that death would be swift if I fell.
Besides being an arduous death march, the Precipice Trail offers absolutely gorgeous views of the ocean, forests, and other mountains. I wished my mother could have seen this before she died, and felt heartbroken she was gone. Everyone knows it sucks to lose a loved one, but it's hard to comprehend the chronic missing-piece feeling that dogs you the rest of your life. Minutes later I came up behind a woman whose hair looked just like mom's did. It was bittersweet, feeling like I could see her but not touch her.
When we reached the summit the sky was turning gray, the temperature was dropping, and the breeze had a bite to it. I, however, was burning up, and stripped down to my camisole to cool off. We suspected the rain would start soon, but I was loathe to leave; I had made it to the top and I was going to stay on top. On the summit I had my picture taken with the mom-ish woman facing away from the camera, because that's the kind of freak I am. I chatted with her for a while and learned she and her husband live in Denver, and they were in Maine on a bicycle tour. I was secretly pleased she was a sweet lady. MacGyver and I took pictures and soaked in the views, and eventually headed down Mount Champlain the back way, getting a close-up of a squirrel on our way.
The Precipice Trail was jam-packed with beauty and danger, and I can't wait to hike it again.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
In My Opinion
I just watched X-Men Origins: Wolverine on DVD.
The plot was convoluted, the dialogue sucked, the pacing was erratic, Gambit and Sabretooth were miscast, the character development was lacking, Hugh Jackman posed more than acted, the climax fizzled, and the ending was a letdown.
Other than that, it was actually pretty bad.
The plot was convoluted, the dialogue sucked, the pacing was erratic, Gambit and Sabretooth were miscast, the character development was lacking, Hugh Jackman posed more than acted, the climax fizzled, and the ending was a letdown.
Other than that, it was actually pretty bad.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Here We Go Again
I have become one of Those Bloggers, the ones that post every couple of months. In my defense I'll state that my life is Very Busy, and I don't have internet at home, and it's not like I have groupies anxiously waiting with bated breath for my next post. It is kind of nice to have some aspect of my life with a low-set bar, to have low standards and not really care.
Since I last posted MacGyver and I road-tripped to Acadia and Shenandoah National Parks, and BOY HOWDY was that awesome. I climbed mountains with ocean views and biked carriage trails and science-geeked out on geology/astronomy/birding activities. I earned a senior ranger badge and ate clam chowder and posed for mucho photographs. I have officially visited 43 states now, and hope to visit 5 more before I'm 30. Good times.
When we returned home I was informed Job needs companionship 24/7, so my sister keeps a schedule of who can sit with him when. The whole situation is just horrible: he's in a lot of pain and is dying slowly, so he could be in pain for months more. He's grouchy a lot, and illogical, and frustrates the Hell out of me. I'm grieving for the brother I had. There's a lot more to the story, but this is all for now. Can't use up all my fodder at once, can I?
My best friend is pregnant and I threw her a baby shower last Saturday. I planned and organized the fuck out of that thing, making lists and spreadsheets and visualizing what would be needed when, and launched myself into a baking/cooking rampage the day before and got to bed at 3 a.m. I had help and appreciate it very much, but some things I wanted done a certain way and decided to do myself. In the end it was worth it, the shower went pretty smoothly and a good time was had by all. Then I went home and napped.
MacGyver has resumed the kitchen remodel! The walls are all mudded and He has built casings for the over-fridge and under-sink cabinets. I'm positively tingly with giddiness.
Shenandoah National Park
Since I last posted MacGyver and I road-tripped to Acadia and Shenandoah National Parks, and BOY HOWDY was that awesome. I climbed mountains with ocean views and biked carriage trails and science-geeked out on geology/astronomy/birding activities. I earned a senior ranger badge and ate clam chowder and posed for mucho photographs. I have officially visited 43 states now, and hope to visit 5 more before I'm 30. Good times.
When we returned home I was informed Job needs companionship 24/7, so my sister keeps a schedule of who can sit with him when. The whole situation is just horrible: he's in a lot of pain and is dying slowly, so he could be in pain for months more. He's grouchy a lot, and illogical, and frustrates the Hell out of me. I'm grieving for the brother I had. There's a lot more to the story, but this is all for now. Can't use up all my fodder at once, can I?
My best friend is pregnant and I threw her a baby shower last Saturday. I planned and organized the fuck out of that thing, making lists and spreadsheets and visualizing what would be needed when, and launched myself into a baking/cooking rampage the day before and got to bed at 3 a.m. I had help and appreciate it very much, but some things I wanted done a certain way and decided to do myself. In the end it was worth it, the shower went pretty smoothly and a good time was had by all. Then I went home and napped.
MacGyver has resumed the kitchen remodel! The walls are all mudded and He has built casings for the over-fridge and under-sink cabinets. I'm positively tingly with giddiness.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Preparation
MacGyver and I leave for Maine in less than two weeks, which means we have a lot of preparation that I'll probably put off until the night before. Fortunately for me MacGyver is the responsible one and I profit from his labor. We've decided to drive my '96 Buick Roadmaster to Acadia NP, so the other night he bought and attached a bike rack to the roof of the car. This completely changes the vibe of my ride.
BEFORE: "Hello, I'm a Buick Mom-mobile. I can safely seat up to nine passengers, perfect for taking your large brood of home-schooled children on educational day trips. I offer spacious cargo room for groceries and boxes of off-brand high-waisted jeans. Praise Jesus!"
NOW: "They don't call me the Roadmaster for nothing. Check out this sweet bike rack, baby. My driver is obviously an extreme athlete and all-around awesome person of great kick-assness. Usually the far back is used to stow outdoor adventuring gear, but you can imagine a carpeted space like this also allows my loose-moralled driver to indulge in other satisfying activities. It's all good."
BEFORE: "Hello, I'm a Buick Mom-mobile. I can safely seat up to nine passengers, perfect for taking your large brood of home-schooled children on educational day trips. I offer spacious cargo room for groceries and boxes of off-brand high-waisted jeans. Praise Jesus!"
NOW: "They don't call me the Roadmaster for nothing. Check out this sweet bike rack, baby. My driver is obviously an extreme athlete and all-around awesome person of great kick-assness. Usually the far back is used to stow outdoor adventuring gear, but you can imagine a carpeted space like this also allows my loose-moralled driver to indulge in other satisfying activities. It's all good."
Monday, August 24, 2009
Always Thinking
Since no one is going to give me any accolades and I don't feel like working hard enough to earn them, I've decided to invent awards to present to myself. I can make ribbons and trophies and certificates to accompany them, I can even notarize them to make them all official. I deserve a prize for this mother-flippin' awesome idea.
We started seeds and planted 48 tomato plants too close together, thinking we'd thin them as they died. None of them died. They grew and orgied and made fugloads of tomatoes. This August MacGyver and I have put up dozens of gallons of tomato juice, sauce, whole tomatoes, and puree. We can on Friday nights, weekends, and whatever nights he's exhausted tired from work (It doesn't matter how I feel. One energetic MacGyver is worth four of me, so he often pulls my wieght). The leaves on two varieties are finally dying off and IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME. We easily overfill a five gallon bucket every two days with the tomato harvest. I'm ready for the tomatoes to disappear so the house doesn't smell like a ketchup factory all the time. I will say it's a nice problem to have.
Speaking of problems, cancer SUCKS. When my brother was admitted to the hospice program the doctor prescribed morphine. Which is great for controlling his pain and he isn't suicidal all the time now. Yay! Unfortunately his memory is shot and his temper erupts unexpectedly and sometimes violently (not physically violent, yay!). I don't know if these are side effects from the morphine or if the cancer has metastasized to his brain. Sigh.
We started seeds and planted 48 tomato plants too close together, thinking we'd thin them as they died. None of them died. They grew and orgied and made fugloads of tomatoes. This August MacGyver and I have put up dozens of gallons of tomato juice, sauce, whole tomatoes, and puree. We can on Friday nights, weekends, and whatever nights he's exhausted tired from work (It doesn't matter how I feel. One energetic MacGyver is worth four of me, so he often pulls my wieght). The leaves on two varieties are finally dying off and IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME. We easily overfill a five gallon bucket every two days with the tomato harvest. I'm ready for the tomatoes to disappear so the house doesn't smell like a ketchup factory all the time. I will say it's a nice problem to have.
Speaking of problems, cancer SUCKS. When my brother was admitted to the hospice program the doctor prescribed morphine. Which is great for controlling his pain and he isn't suicidal all the time now. Yay! Unfortunately his memory is shot and his temper erupts unexpectedly and sometimes violently (not physically violent, yay!). I don't know if these are side effects from the morphine or if the cancer has metastasized to his brain. Sigh.
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