Ode To Pineapples

Today I was google image searching awesome pictures of Pineapples. Why? Because of all fruits they are truly my favorite (no offense, MFA), and sometimes this blog is not quite fruity enough for my Juicy liking. (Because, you know, that's kind of the theme of my internet existance). But then all of a sudden... *flash*flash*flash*

Wild Clefairy Appears!

I don't really know what that has to do with pineapples, but it kind of made my day. And at least it was possibly even slightly less nonsequitor than the porno I stumbled upon once where a guy was litterally banging a watermelon. (I love fruit too, but not that much...)

PS: Lamest Pokemon Ever

RRFFW- Part II: Alpha of Evil

Ok, this is getting ridiculous. At first it was understandable, I mean, if you went into the field of physics because you were good at it then you probably weren't exactly praised for your visual creativity as a youngster. You are no Picasso, and that's Ok, I get it. Furthermore, I understand that nowadays our communication is limited by what one can easily access in wordprocessing programs and what can be understood by computer langages, and that's understandable too. But there is a limit, and that limit was surpassed long, long ago. This ends here, and this ends now.

What am I talking about? I am talking about the absolute prostitution and exploitation of the greek alphabet. It's disgusting; it's an abomination on society and science; and it needs to be stopped.

We'll start with the worst of the worst- little sigma (σ) and little delta (δ). Little sigma, in this one class alone, can mean a type of bond, the spin portion of a wave function, and reflection symmetry over a plane. And no, none of those really have too much to do with each other (though come to think of it, that's probably a good thing). Delta is even worse. This little whore not only has its own operator in mathematics, in addition to being a core element of calculus, but also represents partial charge distribution, the kroenecker symbol, a d-orbital bond, and an NMR shift. Pute.

And then there's good old alpha and beta (α, β). While seemingly innocent, these two creatures have also committed an unimaginable amount of crimes against human decency. Frequently working in pairs, they signify spin-up and spin-down electrons, neighboring carbon molecules in conjugated systems, and energy comparisons between atomic and molecular orbitals. Honestly, it seems like every time someone comes across a binary property that requires two distinct states they look no further than "Hmm...I know! Alpha and Beta!" Can you give it a break, Already!?

Dear PhDs, Of all the possible symbols, alphabets, and punctuation marks that exist in the world today, why does every scientist seem to insist on returning to the same, tired group of already STD-infested and overexploited letters? Would it kill you to reward all of the hard work that went into creating your very own method or formula by a slighlty more creative name and squiggle?! (PS- It will also make students actually remember your formula. And like you better.)

It's a good thing I'm nearing the end of this class because if one more new concept is introduced with a greek letter I might go back to ancient Greece (AKA CERN, apparently this is a theme in my life) and attempt to destroy them all myself. That might not bode too well for my career. Or Western Civilisation.

Oh well, at least I made my stern, slavic (well, Polish) 'Pheesics Professurr' laugh, which might come in useful when I fail his exam on monday.


...Pute.

Random Rants from Finals Week: Part I

So my homosexual spanish roomate is having a dinner party and blasting pop music from the next room over. Luckily this is unlike the other day when it was Shania Twain, but I digress.

Anyway, so the classic "Say My Name" by Destiny's Child comes on. The lyrics of this song have always irked me. Let's see why:


"Say my name, say my name
If no one is around you, say 'baby I love you'
If you ain't runnin' game
Say my name, say my name
You actin' kinda shady
Ain't callin me baby..."



Obviously I understand the main jist of the song: "I have telephoned you and you have not greeted me with your usual affection and enthusiasm, should I be concerned that your affections are waning, or that I am somehow being cuckolded?" But here is what gets me:

For starters, unless you have incredibly ghetto parents (or starred in the 1980s sensational hit Dirty Dancing) I doubt that your name is Baby. More importantly, any good player knows that 'Baby' is actually the best pet name to use when playing multiple women at once! It is both affectionate and incredibly impersonal, allowing the player to impress while not having to worry about keeping petnames straight. Long story short, even if he is calling you 'Baby,' that is in no way proof that he "ain't runnin' game." Infact, he probably is, so you might want to start moving on.

(Try not to set fire to his house though...oops, sorry, too late.)



Ok, Janet Jackson's "Together Again" is on and my mood is slightly assuaged. European radio is mystifying. Though I am enjoying the Star99.9-esque "hits of the eighties, nineties, and today" flashback.

Fears

So despite keeping fans waiting for over half a year (at least) for the next season's renewal and filming, they have still somehow found the time and funding for: a spin off comic book, a spin off web series, a music video, an april fool's video, another spin off video, and several promotional events. While they do claim that season 4 filming is in the works, I cannot help but fear that this too will go the Firefly route.

(...or come to think of it, maybe that of Kiss)

Curve Balls of Awesomeness

So in an attempt to make this blog much more awesome than its predecessor, I have tried to avoid writing too much about my life. However, occassionally, life throws you a bizarre curve ball of awesomeness, and as you slowly recover from shock of it all there is naught to do but brag about it (and hope you don't jinx anything).

After writing over 15 pages worth of applications, and providing numerous other miscellaneous documents and information to more instutions than the number of colleges I applied to, my internship prospects were looking grim. I had already given up my hopes of heading out to Sunny California, and it was looking like this was just going to be another summer spent at home attempting to escape northward at every possible opportunity, so as to see friends and avoid listening to elder relatives talk about their personal lives. (which wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that they are often more interesting than mine.) Infact, with so many people out of town this summer already, it was looking like things were going to seriously suck.

Until one day, after over a year of mediocrity, the world was clearly backing me up again. Not only did I discover that the school cafeteria makes my favorite kind of pastry, and not only did I do well on a presentation I threw together at the last minute, and not only was I getting four-day weekends until the end of the semester, but I had an internship. (Typical that the application that consisted of only a resumee and a short email is the one that is actually victorious). Better yet, I had an internship that might pay almost double anything I had previosly seen offered, and with high NSF priority in grant funding. (AKA it's very likely that I will get paid almost double anything I had previosly seen offered).

I have not had a day this good in two years. So I of course reacted the way anyone would upon recieving so much good news over the course such a short period of time- deep, fearful suspicion. Surely something was up here? Surely I was being somehow duped? Actually being sold into white slavery instead of getting lab work? Or perhaps I had just lost it all together and taken the Beautiful Mind route? Something was clearly about to go terribly wrong in life... but no. So far, So good. (though I'm still keeping my eyes peeled, just in case)

So this brings us to this summer. The first summer where I will not be living at home, but will instead find myself surrounded by lots of friends, subletting my own place off-campus, and doing awesome quantum chemistry research in sunny and sweet Zoo/Tundra territory. I am quite possibly more excited about this than I was for my entire year abroad.

So without further ado, I give you, my personal plans for this summer:


1. Bring back 90's pop music

2. Take advantage of small town proximity and get exercise by bringing back bicycling as a mode of transport. Obviously invest in cute basket for necessities.

3. Bring back sunglasses with colored lenses.

4. Bring back Free Time. Yes, this will be the first time since January of last year
where more than two weeks will pass where I have absolutley no academic work hanging over my head. I plan on filling this by lots of reading, biking, pool-hanging, and WoW.

5. Find time to take a roadtrip to visit OSK. Bring a friend and wayfarer sunglasses because "It's 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark outside, and we're wearing sunglasses. Hit it."

6. The research website for my future boss not only involves hefty use of Star Trek quotations, but some how managed to factor the word "nexus" into the homepage. Yup, bringing that back too...It was clearly a sign.

7. Adopt a knowledge of quantum mechanics and magnetism that is so epic, even I'm impressed. Think further about possible physics minor. (I know, I am clearly deeply insane)

8. Less time on the laptop (except for WoW)

9. Um, most of my friends are around, over 21, and I'll have my own place. Can you say "Party like an Olympian?"

Tetris, Like A Boss

So once I got a netbook and started taking ridiculously lame classes that require attendance but in no way require me to pay attention, I found myself spending hours of the day incredibly bored. To assuage this, I went where millions have gone before me: Tetris.

Its classic simplicity, aided by the mute button, make it a perfect "no really, my laptop is here because I'm taking notes" game, as it only requires subtle gestures of the arrow key. While most people attempt to make their Tetris game harder by increasing the level, and ergo, increasing the speed of the pieces as they fall, I've decided that that is simply the lame way.

Instead, I like to take the logical 'block strategy' that any Tetris player comes across eventually (avoid bumps and singularities, try and keep the total form of your construction as smooth and rectangular as possible) to the max. Instead of simply aiming to line a maximum amount of times in the begginning by postioning most of the pieces laterally, I go out of my way to construct sturdy, thick blocks and towers. As these fill the board, I leave just one space open: a vertical chasm, a small slit between skyscrapers, that can easily become 5-6 blocks high. A small gap whose filling would lead to at least four lines all at once, and maybe more right after if the Tetris Gods are smiling upon me. For these gaps should only really be filled by the best and most noble of tetris pieces, the Orange Piece:*

Free of the blasted chirality of the L and Z Pieces, yet more flexible and useful than its humble cousin, the Red Square, the Orange Line is the true Pallidin of the Tetris Kingdom- coming through right in the clutch. Occassionally aided by "Flippy" (the Yellow T Piece, and a versatile Robin Hood of sorts) it ensures that goodness and prosperity will indeed soon reign in the Two-Dimensional Realm.**

Bonus points are also added for keeping pieces grouped together by their respective, color-coded classes (I swear, on a well constructed Tetris board you can really see the organization at work), a pretty design overall, and if you can get the result to look as much as possible like the Periodic Table.







*Phallic Symbol?

**I thought about making a Flatland joke but somehow it didn't seem right...

Ode To Mandostan

So basically this is one of the most amazing stories I've ever heard:

A friend of a friend of mine was a volunteer worker at the Winter Olympics in Torino, Italy a few years ago. After a disagreement with their boss, however, he and his friends quit, but still kept their volunteer access passes. They then went to a bar, and started to brainstorm what they could possibly pull off with such useful equiptment...

What did they do? They invented a country.

They designed a simple, typical third-world-looking flag for the small and newly independant, but proud, country of "Mandostan" (similar to an italian expression, "ma andò stà ‘sto?", which literally means "but where is that?"). They made a bunch of shirts and caps with the logo emblazoned on it, and went to check-in as the Mandostan Ski Team. It worked.

They then spent the next few days (or two weeks, depending on which story you adhere to) partying into the wee hours of the morning in the Olympic Village with such famous atheletes as Bode Miller. (I have seen the pictures. He is wearing a Mandostan t-shirt and our friend still has his sunglasses). Oh, and apparently the phrase "party like a rockstar" should be changed to "party like an olympic athelete." There was one medalist who stayed up till 5am doing lines of coke before competing the next day.

Sure, eventually all the atheletes realized that these people never seemed to be training and were from an entirely fictional country, but they liked hanging out with them so much that they totally played along with it. It has even been rumored that a BBC reporter, not wanting to seem ignorant, interviewed one of our proud Mandostani citizens about how he felt about an upcoming competition.



You really can't beat that.

BFLN

Similarly, having read some of Gavrich's short stories, I couldn't help but find myself overwhelmed with even more nostalgia. I know almost everyone seems to think that their life is interesting enough to write a book about by the time they hit 60, and maybe I'm falling prey to the same egoism, but I honestly think it's a story worth telling.

And hopefully it's lack of suckage will convince you as well.

Yes, "it" might just happen. "It" is a series of installments that will, over time, fully chronicle life "back in the day." No pseudonyms. No sugarcoating. Nothing but the straight and improbable truth (or at least as best I can present it from the perspective of people who aren't me). I have a theory that by attending a prep-school you are automatically initiated into a life-long social cult. We might as well take a look at how that all began.

Now when I say 'over time' I really mean well over the course of the next 2-3 years at least. I'm hoping that as time goes on, perspective will be gained, and things will become less important and more or less "declassified" enough for people to not get upset at me for writing about them publically. Then again, some improvisation is inevitable since I'm not (but just a hair short of!) omniscent, so it might not always be obvious which specific details are real and which aren't. If that still isn't comforting enough for you, then please inform me if there's anything specific that you'd like me to be especially tasteful about.

But until this lofty feat is realized (if it ever is, which let's face it, is pretty unlikely) I leave you with my first leg of hillarious historical research. Back from the time when "we used to comment religiously," (and then some) I give you, the very best, BFLN-worthy comments:

Juicy: "Eliza and I might just have to drag you to our sexathon until your balls fall of from the pure estrogen overload"

JV: "anyone want to make this longer? maybe factor in some SATC?"


JV: "we can always just sleep outside, unless it rains, which shouldnt be a prob b/c Juicy can control the universe with her mind."


JV: "bftsob: blogging for the sake of bitching"
Juicy: "blogging for the sake of YOUR MOM"
Gavrich: "Actually, that would be classified as 'bftsoYM"


OSK: "Well, it's hard not to gossip when I'm being such a player this year:). Oh, and of
course the constant battle between Dr. K and I for the much coveted mojo is always fascinating."

Juicy: "umm disco=god (even if that does mean i am the child of a decade long crack induced orgy in studio54) "


Dr. K: "i agree with jvert here. hungry guys are very attracted to girls with good snacks. or other guys for that matter, if the snacks are good enough. "


Gavrich: "WOOOOO---Big Brother is watching EVERYTHING!!! "


JV: "and given your post, i imagine you want your secret santa to give you ass, right?"


Gavrich: "I daresay that energy drinks would be better at a pity party than alcohol. High-octane pity is much more satisfying than inebriated pity, I'd imagine. "
Juicy: "mmm, but possibly far more dangerous.... "


OSK: "Thanks for the shout-out, and no there's not hope, but what do I care? I'm fucking Batman!*

*No, not procreating "


Gavrich: "Well my shout-out was acceptable. It was also probably the first formal shout-out I've ever received, so that's probably why. "


Gavrich: "Seems like someone needs to listen to 'Barney's Greatest Hits."


Gavrich: "I believe that we American men are spoiled because the American women have no problem putting the adverb form of 'fantastic' in front of the word 'whorish."


Gavrich: "I'm puzzled by the phrase 'penis candy."


Gavrich: "My school was founded on sound values. Yours was probably founded during a morphine-high"


Dr. K: "umm... what IS that?? "
Juicy: "it's your mom."


JV: "You could always use your foolish youth-ness to get a tatoo so you can remember what it's like to be young and foolish for the rest of your life. "


Gavrich: "Why the epic feats of procrastination? "
Juicy: "I told you: canoes, full on nudity, school-sponsored mud wrestling, the Red Sox, and a spontaneous conversation that lasted over 2 hours "


Dr. K: "Give science a few more decades and we'll be able to grow babies in test tubes. Then, women: who needs you? "


JV: "I'm famous for providing mythic relics to people and their hair."
Juicy: "hey, it's better than nothing... "


Gavrich: "Juicy, I'm beginning to think that your college doesn't actually exist. It's looking more and more like some ridiculous, rebellious liberal construct; a figment of imagination. And I've even been 'there' (I feel the need to use that term loosely). "


JV: "::grumbles:: I'm still waiting for that crack... "


JV: "I think we should call kids 'last generation's garbage' until they're old enough that, if we talk about how they're the future, I don't want to puke. "


And saving the very best for last...

Gavrich: [on anal sex] "Well...if cleanliness and safety were assured, and the hypothetical she were interested, it might be an experiment worth conducting. "

The Chicken Truck

Way back when, OSK blogged in great detail about nostalgia. The feeling you get when you're going to miss a place even though you really didn't enjoy it all that much when you were there. While at the time he was blogging about France, I've started to have similar feelings about Switzerland.

After almost an entire year of "why the fuck did I do this," "I would have been so much better off in the US," and "God, the food/tram/people suck" (well not all the people obviously, but you get my jist); I think I've reached the point where I've finally fully accepted and assimilated to life here enough to enjoy it, even if it's not at all what I first had in mind. Like I always seem to get used to the freezing winter weather right before I'm about to step inside, I have realized, just in time, that come a month or two from now when I leave, I will miss Switzerland. I don't know whether this is genuine joy, pure nostalgia, or just not wanting to accept the fact that my might-have-been-epic year is over and I accomplished so shockingly little, but the fact remains. I guess it was always a love/hate relationship.

Oh, but I'll def miss my stoner roomates.



(Though I suppose I can always come back next year when OSK, apparently, will be in Europe all year long. Wow.)