This totally feeds my James Bond gadget fetish.... Three guesses what it is.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Since my spy name is Winter Rose...
This totally feeds my James Bond gadget fetish.... Three guesses what it is.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
A PILGRIMAGE
This Monday I took a little trip down Memory Lane, and I-35, when I cruised north to Waco and Baylor, my alma mater. A short road trip is something the doctor ordered for quite a while, although I didn't get the start I wanted and rushed the arrival. I've always thought half the fun is meandering to your destination, taking as much time and stopping as much as you want. Granted, that would have meant a stop in, what, Temple?
So I got to campus, and immediately headed to the bookstore for some gear, like I used to when I was in school and had money burning a hole in my pocket. Before I was 21 and could legally buy booze.
The bookstore, once this quaint little enclave, has now become this vast cave of green and gold. I immediately flashed back to my first jaunt into the store as a baby freshman, and felt like a kid in a candy store looking at all the cool stuff with "Baylor" written on it, amid a sea of interlocking BUs. This was my school, and I swelled with pride, thinking how hard it was to get in and how I'd figured out financial aid to make it happen. My friends in college joked that if they made BU bras and panties, I'd wear those too. They were not wrong. :-)
So when I was browsing, a sweet little old lady who worked there came to ask me if I needed help. When she found out I was an alum from '96, she was practically giddy and fascinated by what I was doing now, where I was living, etc. I think she was just excited to be around someone who was of legal drinking age and remembered the Reagan administration. But she gleefully checked me out and carefully bagged all my Baylor swag, guiding me to the softball and tennis pocket schedules available at the counter. A coworker's nephew plays for the tennis team, so I figured, eh, why the hell not.
I cruised to the next bookstore/gear store (there are four): The Spirit Shop. I should have gone there first, and remembered I always made the same mistake at school too. The spirit shop has different stuff, and it's all great. They've got the best sticker and T-shirt selection in town, hands down, AND Monday everything was 33 percent off because they're moving. Cha-ching! After leaving, I was officially geared up.
My next stop was to find some good visitor parking. The Baylor PD was notorious in my day for towing vehicles in the wrong spot, and even if you were in visitor parking, you had to have this stupid permit displayed. So my goal was to find out-of-the-way parking they wouldn't notice, but at the same time would get me into campus.
I dodged into a space near Pat Neff Hall, the Baylor adminstration building and one of the trademarked symbols of the university, kinda like the UT Tower. Its bells got me to class every day, and marked the hours of my life for four years. I remember making out on campus with a guy I was going out with, and thinking how great it was that we could tell what time it was without looking at our watches.
Pat Neff Hall
The parking lot was tucked behind the SUB (Student Union Building), and out of the way enough that I could roam a bit. It also sat feet from the Carroll Science Building, which is ironically the English building, and was my favorite building on campus. The interior is completely done in hardwood, from the floors to the carved banisters to the heavy, ornate doors on each classroom and exit. It was so beautiful, in fact, that the Baylor powers that were decided to put classes on poetry and literature in there instead, to merge literary beauty with the physical. Or so the handed-down story goes.
Hopping out of my car and slinging my backpack over my shoulder, it struck me how well I suddenly blended in with the stream of students I was moving with; no one looked at me as if I was out of place. And I didn't feel that way either. My pace quickened with the flow of traffic, and my body remembered the rhythm of shuttling between classes, especially as I neared Carroll Science. As an English minor, I spent a lot of time in very enjoyable classes there, and my brain flooded with all the essays I'd BSed, all the blue-book exams I sweated.
After wandering around there for a little while, and seeing what faculty names I could recognize on the felt board, I trotted down those massive stairs like a giddy schoolgirl, and headed next door to the SUB. As I reached the door, some polite, good-looking young man stopped and held the door open for me and I thought to myself, "Man, these girls have it good." Don't get me wrong, he was a child, but if I was his age, well, there's a reason I don't remember much of my sophomore year.
We walked in on kids getting their pictures taken by a professional photographer and a backdrop: campaign photo day. Only then do you see young men in impeccable hairstyles, spotless button-downs, Windsor knots, and khaki shorts with flip-flops preening in front of the student government office. I think I voted maybe once in a stugov election, otherwise, it was the same spoiled, rich white kids doing the same things every year. From the look of the tie boys, this year will prove to be no exception.
The SUB was pretty much as I remembered it, except in the main lounge part, where there were computer terminals all over the place. I'd gone to school as the Internet was mewling its first cry of birth, and it's amazing how you can check your email and use the Web anytime from almost anywhere on campus. I noticed in every building I was in, there was a computer area at least on the ground floor, a far cry from the few in the library and the university suggestion that you buy your own.
So I started driving around, looking at familiar sights, until I found the building I'd heard so much about: the Student Life Center (which the kids, in an oh-so-Baylor way, call the Slick for its acronym). This sucker is amazing. It's got a fitness center to rival a 24-Hour Fitness, a huge pool; and lazy river (!), a Spirit and Traditions lounge, man, just follow the link and check this stuff out. I couldn't get in because you needed a student ID, but I found a pic online:
Inside the SLC, with the wave pool and waterslide
My next stop was the new science building, which just looked amazing. It was just completed a few years ago, and when I walked in I was greeted with a bank of touchscreens that served as a building map and information station. Big, huge windows that stretched from floor to ceiling illuminated a huge commons/lounge area with comfy sofas, tables, and every amenity your hard-at-work pre-med student needs.
The science building
I hit one of the beverage machines to get a Dr Pepper, because really, it's illegal to visit campus and not have one. I had to move to the water machine because the soft drink machine only takes BearBucks cards, and I marveled at how cool that would have been. No worries about change or money. Then I remembered, "Oh yeah, stupid, you have one of those. It's called a debit card."
After that, I hopped in the car and on a whim drove to the new baseball field. I say new, 'cuz it's new to me. This thing is a cathedral to college baseball. I saw the gates were open, so I grabbed my camera and said, "what the hell!"
Just inside the gates
It's so cozy but nice, and as I was marveling at how pretty it was, I heard a ping. I scrambled up the stairs, and got to see our baseball team on the field in the middle of practice.
Our boys in green
Bleachers and seating at the Baylor Ballpark
More practice
I sat and watched for a while, in prime seats I'd never get to enjoy during a game. This is a really nice ballpark, and I can just imagine with the crowd, the concessions, the other team, what a great experience a game must be. Either our pitchers are really good or our batters are really bad, but a couple of foul tips ended up outside the park. On my way to see the softball field, I picked up this little souvenir:
The softball stadium is a wee bit smaller, but just as nice and plush.
I could definitely enjoy a warm Saturday afternoon at the ballpark taking in a game from either squad. If I, you know, actually had Saturdays off. There's a baseball game in late April that's on a Tuesday, and I'm totally all over that one.
The front of the cathedral
On my way out, I drove past what used to be my apartment. Baylor had bought the land, apparently, because now there's a parking garage, a Chili's and Starbucks on the spot. The kids call it the garage-mahal. That was a little hard to see: a Starbucks on the same spot you and your fiance made out on your couch.
All in all, the sentimental journey was well worth it. It was deeply personal and reaffirming. For a while, I felt ashamed of where I went to school, because of some things the administration under Robert Sloan was doing and because our football team sucked rocks. From the alumni magazine, I had gotten the feeling all these years that because I wasn't making six figures, I was a failure. I felt like I didn't belong.
Things all began to change once I got my ring, and I started to accept that like any major institution, especially a religious one, there are going to be some things that suck. That doesn't outweigh my experience, and the cool traditions and rhythms I've come to love about the university that, for four years, I called home. Visiting there, I got back in touch a little bit with the idealistic, hopeful, driven girl I was when I was there.
Getting back to me was the best road trip I could have taken.
On the way out of town, I stopped by the stadium. Little Daniel Sepulveda of the Pittsburgh Steelers has already made the wall of fame. Notice Walter Abercrombie and Mike Singletary only get names above him.
So I got to campus, and immediately headed to the bookstore for some gear, like I used to when I was in school and had money burning a hole in my pocket. Before I was 21 and could legally buy booze.
The bookstore, once this quaint little enclave, has now become this vast cave of green and gold. I immediately flashed back to my first jaunt into the store as a baby freshman, and felt like a kid in a candy store looking at all the cool stuff with "Baylor" written on it, amid a sea of interlocking BUs. This was my school, and I swelled with pride, thinking how hard it was to get in and how I'd figured out financial aid to make it happen. My friends in college joked that if they made BU bras and panties, I'd wear those too. They were not wrong. :-)
So when I was browsing, a sweet little old lady who worked there came to ask me if I needed help. When she found out I was an alum from '96, she was practically giddy and fascinated by what I was doing now, where I was living, etc. I think she was just excited to be around someone who was of legal drinking age and remembered the Reagan administration. But she gleefully checked me out and carefully bagged all my Baylor swag, guiding me to the softball and tennis pocket schedules available at the counter. A coworker's nephew plays for the tennis team, so I figured, eh, why the hell not.
I cruised to the next bookstore/gear store (there are four): The Spirit Shop. I should have gone there first, and remembered I always made the same mistake at school too. The spirit shop has different stuff, and it's all great. They've got the best sticker and T-shirt selection in town, hands down, AND Monday everything was 33 percent off because they're moving. Cha-ching! After leaving, I was officially geared up.
My next stop was to find some good visitor parking. The Baylor PD was notorious in my day for towing vehicles in the wrong spot, and even if you were in visitor parking, you had to have this stupid permit displayed. So my goal was to find out-of-the-way parking they wouldn't notice, but at the same time would get me into campus.
I dodged into a space near Pat Neff Hall, the Baylor adminstration building and one of the trademarked symbols of the university, kinda like the UT Tower. Its bells got me to class every day, and marked the hours of my life for four years. I remember making out on campus with a guy I was going out with, and thinking how great it was that we could tell what time it was without looking at our watches.
Pat Neff Hall
The parking lot was tucked behind the SUB (Student Union Building), and out of the way enough that I could roam a bit. It also sat feet from the Carroll Science Building, which is ironically the English building, and was my favorite building on campus. The interior is completely done in hardwood, from the floors to the carved banisters to the heavy, ornate doors on each classroom and exit. It was so beautiful, in fact, that the Baylor powers that were decided to put classes on poetry and literature in there instead, to merge literary beauty with the physical. Or so the handed-down story goes.
Hopping out of my car and slinging my backpack over my shoulder, it struck me how well I suddenly blended in with the stream of students I was moving with; no one looked at me as if I was out of place. And I didn't feel that way either. My pace quickened with the flow of traffic, and my body remembered the rhythm of shuttling between classes, especially as I neared Carroll Science. As an English minor, I spent a lot of time in very enjoyable classes there, and my brain flooded with all the essays I'd BSed, all the blue-book exams I sweated.
After wandering around there for a little while, and seeing what faculty names I could recognize on the felt board, I trotted down those massive stairs like a giddy schoolgirl, and headed next door to the SUB. As I reached the door, some polite, good-looking young man stopped and held the door open for me and I thought to myself, "Man, these girls have it good." Don't get me wrong, he was a child, but if I was his age, well, there's a reason I don't remember much of my sophomore year.
We walked in on kids getting their pictures taken by a professional photographer and a backdrop: campaign photo day. Only then do you see young men in impeccable hairstyles, spotless button-downs, Windsor knots, and khaki shorts with flip-flops preening in front of the student government office. I think I voted maybe once in a stugov election, otherwise, it was the same spoiled, rich white kids doing the same things every year. From the look of the tie boys, this year will prove to be no exception.
The SUB was pretty much as I remembered it, except in the main lounge part, where there were computer terminals all over the place. I'd gone to school as the Internet was mewling its first cry of birth, and it's amazing how you can check your email and use the Web anytime from almost anywhere on campus. I noticed in every building I was in, there was a computer area at least on the ground floor, a far cry from the few in the library and the university suggestion that you buy your own.
So I started driving around, looking at familiar sights, until I found the building I'd heard so much about: the Student Life Center (which the kids, in an oh-so-Baylor way, call the Slick for its acronym). This sucker is amazing. It's got a fitness center to rival a 24-Hour Fitness, a huge pool; and lazy river (!), a Spirit and Traditions lounge, man, just follow the link and check this stuff out. I couldn't get in because you needed a student ID, but I found a pic online:
Inside the SLC, with the wave pool and waterslide
My next stop was the new science building, which just looked amazing. It was just completed a few years ago, and when I walked in I was greeted with a bank of touchscreens that served as a building map and information station. Big, huge windows that stretched from floor to ceiling illuminated a huge commons/lounge area with comfy sofas, tables, and every amenity your hard-at-work pre-med student needs.
The science building
I hit one of the beverage machines to get a Dr Pepper, because really, it's illegal to visit campus and not have one. I had to move to the water machine because the soft drink machine only takes BearBucks cards, and I marveled at how cool that would have been. No worries about change or money. Then I remembered, "Oh yeah, stupid, you have one of those. It's called a debit card."
After that, I hopped in the car and on a whim drove to the new baseball field. I say new, 'cuz it's new to me. This thing is a cathedral to college baseball. I saw the gates were open, so I grabbed my camera and said, "what the hell!"
Just inside the gates
It's so cozy but nice, and as I was marveling at how pretty it was, I heard a ping. I scrambled up the stairs, and got to see our baseball team on the field in the middle of practice.
Our boys in green
Bleachers and seating at the Baylor Ballpark
More practice
I sat and watched for a while, in prime seats I'd never get to enjoy during a game. This is a really nice ballpark, and I can just imagine with the crowd, the concessions, the other team, what a great experience a game must be. Either our pitchers are really good or our batters are really bad, but a couple of foul tips ended up outside the park. On my way to see the softball field, I picked up this little souvenir:
The softball stadium is a wee bit smaller, but just as nice and plush.
I could definitely enjoy a warm Saturday afternoon at the ballpark taking in a game from either squad. If I, you know, actually had Saturdays off. There's a baseball game in late April that's on a Tuesday, and I'm totally all over that one.
The front of the cathedral
On my way out, I drove past what used to be my apartment. Baylor had bought the land, apparently, because now there's a parking garage, a Chili's and Starbucks on the spot. The kids call it the garage-mahal. That was a little hard to see: a Starbucks on the same spot you and your fiance made out on your couch.
All in all, the sentimental journey was well worth it. It was deeply personal and reaffirming. For a while, I felt ashamed of where I went to school, because of some things the administration under Robert Sloan was doing and because our football team sucked rocks. From the alumni magazine, I had gotten the feeling all these years that because I wasn't making six figures, I was a failure. I felt like I didn't belong.
Things all began to change once I got my ring, and I started to accept that like any major institution, especially a religious one, there are going to be some things that suck. That doesn't outweigh my experience, and the cool traditions and rhythms I've come to love about the university that, for four years, I called home. Visiting there, I got back in touch a little bit with the idealistic, hopeful, driven girl I was when I was there.
Getting back to me was the best road trip I could have taken.
On the way out of town, I stopped by the stadium. Little Daniel Sepulveda of the Pittsburgh Steelers has already made the wall of fame. Notice Walter Abercrombie and Mike Singletary only get names above him.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Meeeeeeeeeme.
A meme from Etienne, which feeds into my need for another name. Feel free to call me any of the following you like, although I'm partial to 11 and 12:
1. ROCK STAR NAME:(first pet, current car):
Ginger CRV (or Ginger Honda)
2. GANGSTA NAME: (fav ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe):
Mexican Vanilla Boots
3. NATIVE AMERICAN NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal):
Blue Lion
4. SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born in):
Dawn Orange
5. STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name)
Edglu
6. SUPERHERO NAME: (The 2nd favorite color, favorite drink):
Green Tea (umm, would I kill villains with antioxidants...?)
7. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers)
Jesse Frank
8. STRIPPER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy):
Blue Godiva
10. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter):
Adair Austin
11. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower):
Winter Rose
12. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now):
Blueberry Wristwatch
1. ROCK STAR NAME:(first pet, current car):
Ginger CRV (or Ginger Honda)
2. GANGSTA NAME: (fav ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe):
Mexican Vanilla Boots
3. NATIVE AMERICAN NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal):
Blue Lion
4. SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born in):
Dawn Orange
5. STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name)
Edglu
6. SUPERHERO NAME: (The 2nd favorite color, favorite drink):
Green Tea (umm, would I kill villains with antioxidants...?)
7. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers)
Jesse Frank
8. STRIPPER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy):
Blue Godiva
10. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter):
Adair Austin
11. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower):
Winter Rose
12. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now):
Blueberry Wristwatch
Thursday, January 24, 2008
WE GON' PARTY LIKE IT'S MY BIRFDAY
So I'm coming off a birthday/going-away bacchanal that culminated in my birthday celebration and a lunch which served as a denouement.
I didn't attend Katherine's lunch, regrettably. I tossed and turned and couldn't get to sleep until 6 a.m., with the lunch commencing all the way across Austin at 1 p.m. Needless to say, I was up by 12:45 with no hope of making it on time.
Her party Saturday was a blast. I am not exaggerating when I say that's the most leftover liquor I've ever seen at a party (including half a keg), which should give you some indication of what there was to start with. Everyone was sufficiently red-faced but remained composed, we all gulped down alcohol to kill the pain of saying goodbye to KDD, and there was damn fine cake.
Sunday was recuperation day for everyone but Blythe's helpful roommate Joey, who agreed to invite some mates over and work on the keg. Sunday night, I went to pick it up, and there was still I'd guess a quarter left. The sumbitch was really heavy, and after pulling the CRV into Blythe's back yard (as she suggested I do when I delivered it), I got the keg and tub all the way to the car and up against the back. And I began to fully realize how completely, totally, utterly out of shape I am compared to a few years ago.
At some point, I was going to have to lift the keg and tub up high enough to slide into the back of the CRV, about the top of my thigh. I also realized that was going to require rotation of my arms that I didn't think I had the strength for.
I really, really wanted to have beer for my birthday, and I was really, really frustrated that my wishes were being thwarted because my body wasn't cooperating. I was tired, mad, and after getting it to the car, had just enough adrenaline in me to get steamed. Before I knew it, I had rattled off a few f-bombs, snatched the tub handles, lifted from my ample ass and got it in there in one motion, actually amazing myself. And kinda straining a butt muscle. Then I heard Katherine in my head: "CRITIA SMAAASH!" And indeed I did.
Monday was muuuuuuuch better. As I told a friend on the phone, a birthday that starts out with a half keg of beer in your living room isn't a bad day. At 8 we were reclining in a booth at the downtown P.F. Chang's, sampling glorious grub and eating free chocolate cake, thank you Amy. And Tim, the only guy, was chivalrous and paid for us all. So I had a man buy me dinner on my birthday. Again, so far so good.
We walked a block (!) to the Cedar Door, and immediately got tucked in for a night of revelry. Chronicle "Easy Street" ads were read aloud, Mexican Martinis were downed in one, the rest of the crew got there and in all, we had a blast. This sounds silly, but I got cool things from Raeanne and Blythe, who, as Raeanne put it, "went shopping on our desks." I actually preferred those things, since they have a story and belonged to a friend beforehand.
It was really cool to look down the table and see all the people that came out to help me celebrate my birthday. That's really all I wanted, a simple get-together with the gang where we could talk about everything and nothing. It was a great 34th.
Her party Saturday was a blast. I am not exaggerating when I say that's the most leftover liquor I've ever seen at a party (including half a keg), which should give you some indication of what there was to start with. Everyone was sufficiently red-faced but remained composed, we all gulped down alcohol to kill the pain of saying goodbye to KDD, and there was damn fine cake.
Sunday was recuperation day for everyone but Blythe's helpful roommate Joey, who agreed to invite some mates over and work on the keg. Sunday night, I went to pick it up, and there was still I'd guess a quarter left. The sumbitch was really heavy, and after pulling the CRV into Blythe's back yard (as she suggested I do when I delivered it), I got the keg and tub all the way to the car and up against the back. And I began to fully realize how completely, totally, utterly out of shape I am compared to a few years ago.
At some point, I was going to have to lift the keg and tub up high enough to slide into the back of the CRV, about the top of my thigh. I also realized that was going to require rotation of my arms that I didn't think I had the strength for.
I really, really wanted to have beer for my birthday, and I was really, really frustrated that my wishes were being thwarted because my body wasn't cooperating. I was tired, mad, and after getting it to the car, had just enough adrenaline in me to get steamed. Before I knew it, I had rattled off a few f-bombs, snatched the tub handles, lifted from my ample ass and got it in there in one motion, actually amazing myself. And kinda straining a butt muscle. Then I heard Katherine in my head: "CRITIA SMAAASH!" And indeed I did.
Monday was muuuuuuuch better. As I told a friend on the phone, a birthday that starts out with a half keg of beer in your living room isn't a bad day. At 8 we were reclining in a booth at the downtown P.F. Chang's, sampling glorious grub and eating free chocolate cake, thank you Amy. And Tim, the only guy, was chivalrous and paid for us all. So I had a man buy me dinner on my birthday. Again, so far so good.
We walked a block (!) to the Cedar Door, and immediately got tucked in for a night of revelry. Chronicle "Easy Street" ads were read aloud, Mexican Martinis were downed in one, the rest of the crew got there and in all, we had a blast. This sounds silly, but I got cool things from Raeanne and Blythe, who, as Raeanne put it, "went shopping on our desks." I actually preferred those things, since they have a story and belonged to a friend beforehand.
It was really cool to look down the table and see all the people that came out to help me celebrate my birthday. That's really all I wanted, a simple get-together with the gang where we could talk about everything and nothing. It was a great 34th.
AND I WAS A LIBERAL ARTS MAJOR (edited)
We got an email (from someplace I can't name) involving Texas curriculum standards. Witness:
"OK, I offer a free cold, refreshing beverage of your choice (snip) to the (snip) who can -- without using the Internet -- answer ANY of the following questions from the state's new college readiness curriculum standards for Texas:
• Use slopes to describe the steepness and direction of lines in the coordinate plane and to determine if lines are parallel, perpendicular or neither.
• Recognize and describe univariate and bivariate data.
• Describe and explain the significance of historical development of quantum theory, modern atomic theory, biological evolution and plate tectonics.
• Qualitatively and quantitatively describe Newton’s Law of Gravitation and the factors that affect the gravitational force between two objects.
(And for the record, they are all too hard for me.)"
And here were my answers, without the benefit of the InterWebs:
1) Parallel lines share at least one X coordinate, and never intersect. They also each bear the same Y coordinate for the entire line (ex. Line 1's Y is 5, Line 2's Y is 10), otherwise they would be a parabola. The degree difference is 0. Perpendicular lines share an X and Y coordinate, but only one, and one line measures 90º from the other. Parabolas would fall into neither.
2) Univariate has only one variable in play in an experiment, bivariate has two?
3) The significance of all these subjects is huge, as I don't have to tell you. Quantum theory has told us everything we know about black holes, as well as actually giving birth to atomic theory, since quantum mechanics have to do with matter in an indivisible state. Once we split the atom, bang, (so to speak), atomic theory. Plate tectonics have enabled us to predict natural disasters, as well as understand how the earth is held together, basically sheets of rock floating on magma that occasionally rub each other the wrong way.
4) I forget what qual- and quant- mean without looking it up, but I know the gravitational force between two objects is in direct proportion to the mass of both objects.
And now I can't remember my name.
"OK, I offer a free cold, refreshing beverage of your choice (snip) to the (snip) who can -- without using the Internet -- answer ANY of the following questions from the state's new college readiness curriculum standards for Texas:
• Use slopes to describe the steepness and direction of lines in the coordinate plane and to determine if lines are parallel, perpendicular or neither.
• Recognize and describe univariate and bivariate data.
• Describe and explain the significance of historical development of quantum theory, modern atomic theory, biological evolution and plate tectonics.
• Qualitatively and quantitatively describe Newton’s Law of Gravitation and the factors that affect the gravitational force between two objects.
(And for the record, they are all too hard for me.)"
And here were my answers, without the benefit of the InterWebs:
1) Parallel lines share at least one X coordinate, and never intersect. They also each bear the same Y coordinate for the entire line (ex. Line 1's Y is 5, Line 2's Y is 10), otherwise they would be a parabola. The degree difference is 0. Perpendicular lines share an X and Y coordinate, but only one, and one line measures 90º from the other. Parabolas would fall into neither.
2) Univariate has only one variable in play in an experiment, bivariate has two?
3) The significance of all these subjects is huge, as I don't have to tell you. Quantum theory has told us everything we know about black holes, as well as actually giving birth to atomic theory, since quantum mechanics have to do with matter in an indivisible state. Once we split the atom, bang, (so to speak), atomic theory. Plate tectonics have enabled us to predict natural disasters, as well as understand how the earth is held together, basically sheets of rock floating on magma that occasionally rub each other the wrong way.
4) I forget what qual- and quant- mean without looking it up, but I know the gravitational force between two objects is in direct proportion to the mass of both objects.
And now I can't remember my name.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
ANOTHER BADASS PRODUCT
Another badass product
You actually COLOR MATCH your coffee or tea to swatches labeled Milky, Builders Brew, Just tea, Classic British, etc. Must have!!! Want now!!
Amused, but conflicted
My God. I don't know how to feel about this, because I'm sure it will be offensive to someone. Perhaps old lesbians.
Men who look like old lesbians
Speaking of things you're not sure how you feel about, I now think of The Count on Sesame Street as a dirty, dirty vampiric puppet.
You actually COLOR MATCH your coffee or tea to swatches labeled Milky, Builders Brew, Just tea, Classic British, etc. Must have!!! Want now!!
Amused, but conflicted
My God. I don't know how to feel about this, because I'm sure it will be offensive to someone. Perhaps old lesbians.
Men who look like old lesbians
Speaking of things you're not sure how you feel about, I now think of The Count on Sesame Street as a dirty, dirty vampiric puppet.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
eHARMONY
I'm finally free. I'd go through the whole "free at last" thing, but it's kinda disrespectful to the Good Doctor.
Those lying bastards are getting no more of my money. The ads you see on TV? Fifty bucks says they're actors. When these so-called "couples" actually start doing live interviews and/or being seen in public together, I might start to swallow it.
Everyone I've ever met who's been on or is still on eHarmony is dissatisfied with the experience, and didn't find "the one," or even anyone. My friend Katherine got matched to engineers, I got matched to preachers and missionaries. Oh, and that toothless guy with no car. And that's not a joke.
Dr. Neil Warren needs to quit popping back in my inbox, telling me how I've made a mistake and all the "spokescouples" quit too before rejoining and miraculously finding the love of their lives. Leave me alone, old man. Get out of my life, and take your Ted Knight haircut with you. I have escaped the prison of hope you put people in, and I'm passing around the key to everyone I can find.
Simply put, eHarmony does well and truly suck.
Those lying bastards are getting no more of my money. The ads you see on TV? Fifty bucks says they're actors. When these so-called "couples" actually start doing live interviews and/or being seen in public together, I might start to swallow it.
Everyone I've ever met who's been on or is still on eHarmony is dissatisfied with the experience, and didn't find "the one," or even anyone. My friend Katherine got matched to engineers, I got matched to preachers and missionaries. Oh, and that toothless guy with no car. And that's not a joke.
Dr. Neil Warren needs to quit popping back in my inbox, telling me how I've made a mistake and all the "spokescouples" quit too before rejoining and miraculously finding the love of their lives. Leave me alone, old man. Get out of my life, and take your Ted Knight haircut with you. I have escaped the prison of hope you put people in, and I'm passing around the key to everyone I can find.
Simply put, eHarmony does well and truly suck.
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