Archive | March, 2012

The Art of Losing Your Glasses (Part 2): Becoming A Supreme Overlord

21 Mar

During the summer I work at a rope course, which, in Georgia, is like being stuck in your own special circle of hell*. It’s like the sun is looking down on you– you personally—and, I promise you, going to a higher level does not make it less hot. If anything, it just lets the sun get a closer view.

After three summers of working there, I’ve noticed a thing—a vortex-y thing. You see, this rope course is built into three levels (cleverly named 1,2 and 3) that are stacked on top of each other. Level 1 is the lowest and easiest and 3 is the highest and hardest.

As a part time employee, I do my best to avoid hard work, which mainly means avoiding level 3 and level 2 on a busy day. However, one unfortunate day in July, I was told to go watch level 3. Working on level 3 isn’t actually that hard, mostly you watch people climb their way up, watch them look over the edge, and watch them walk back down. Pansies make my job easy. In Georgia, though, every step closer to the sun is like taking a step further into hell. Your skin begins to sizzle on ground level, and level 3 is forty feet above that.

The three circles of hell... in mid-July at least.

Anyway, it was on this fateful day on this damned course level, that I graduated from glasses-losing novice to supreme-overlord-master of glasses losing. Yeah.

So I walked up to this course level and leaned back on my rope, watched a couple of fifth graders dare each other to keep going through the course. Then, as if being up on this level-of-flames wasn’t enough, I hear a whistle. My manager used a whistle—some fancy little whistle he got from Sports Authority—to get my attention and circled his hand above is head… Yeah, for the guests a probably looked like some crazy dude miming a lasso. For me, though, that meant do some safety checks.

Safety checks just involve walking through the course and making sure there aren’t any loose screws, but, on level 3, every movement makes you break out into a sweat. So, as I’m doing safety checks, I am drenched—it begins to look like I’ve actually done some work… while at work.

But as I’m doing these checks, my glasses start to fog up, from all the sweat and the heat and breathing. Simply put:

Sweat + heat+ breathing= fog in lenses

Really, the breathing contributes to both the condensation in the air and the heat, so it's be closer to this:
Sweat(as a function of breathing and humidity) +
Heat(as a function of temperature and breathing)
= Fog...

Since I’m all near-sighted and stuff, I figure don’t need glasses to do safety checks. As I go to take them off, though, I fumble.

The glasses fall and fall until I can’t see them anymore.

Later on, when a coworker and I were looking for them, however, they weren’t on the ground below level 3. Then we checked level 2, because level 2 is right under level 3, so they must be there, right? No. They weren’t there. Level 1 seemed a little less likely than level 2, but whatever. We looked. They weren’t there either. No.

They weren’t on the ground, on the levels, on my face… anywhere. They were gone. Vanished. Disappeared. *Poof*.

I, with my amazing investigative powers, have figured out where they went. I know what happened to my glasses.

Using the latest scientific technology equipment stuff**, I have discovered that between level 2 and level 3, there is a five foot space that is secretly a vortex. Yeah.

The vortex is visible for illustration purposes. In real life, it's invisible.

Before they go into the course, we tell people that they shouldn’t have anything in their pockets because it could fall out of their pockets and hit someone lower down… what we don’t say, is that it could fall into a vortex and end up somewhere on Jupiter or Gallifrey***.

So, after destroying two pairs of glasses, my third pair fell through a vortex-of-doom never to be seen again.

I think the moral of this story is that, if you’re going to work in hell, you should wear contacts.

*5 points if you get the reference to The Inferno

**When I say “latest scientific technology equipment stuff”, I mean my eyes.

** *10 points if you got the Dr. Who reference. Add 20 points if you’re thinking that Gallifrey was destroyed, so your glasses wouldn’t end up there. Subtract 10 points if you’re thinking that Gallifrey didn’t exist in the first place…

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The Art in Breaking Glasses (part 1)

20 Mar

I have the amazing capacity to destroy glasses. Sunglasses, eye glasses, those cheap dollar store star glasses—they come to me to die. With sun glasses and cheap novelty glasses, it’s no big deal because they’re uber cheap. However, when it comes to prescription glasses my clumsiness is a problem—it’s probably been around a $300 problem, as a matter of fact.

In fact, turning perfectly strong lenses and frames into a crumpled mess of metal and glass shards is almost an expertise of mine. So, if figured, why not impart some of my wisdom unto the internets, right? Right.

My first two pairs were frameless and almost invisible, unless I was wearing them. When I was wearing they were obvious and awkward…

My dad said frame-less glasses look classy... but, as a 13 year old, classy wasn't what I was going for O-O

With both of these glasses they would go missing until I found them… under my foot and in a 90 degree angle. At least one of the lenses popped out, and, even though they were only on my floor, they looked like they had been mauled by a bear.

 

Really, though, the process of obliterating a good pair of glasses begins with losing them—the best destruction occurs when you’re not looking. Now, I’m not saying choose a place and stash ‘em there. No. If you just toss them somewhere you’ll know where they are, and a good, proper amount of destruction will never occur. Instead, just be careless with them. Leave ‘em on the table, in the car, in the bathroom. Soon enough, they’ll be long gone, and, search as you might, in all the obvious places, you’ll never find them. Great.

Well, that's supposed to be a tire rolling over a pair of glasses... but it kinda just looks like grey yarn casting a shadow

Now, comes the fun part. Leave your shoes on when you walk about the house, or, at least, some socks. The time will come when you will find them—where? Beneath your foot as you take a step, Beneath a box as you set it down, or even beneath your tire after you’ve set you’re your car in reverse. Fun times.

Having lost your glasses and, then, found them again just after you’ve crushed them beyond repair, feel free to admire your work– Well, as best as you can without your glasses.

 

 

 

Why I’d Never go to Culinary School– and a brief update.

11 Mar

Generally, I like cooking because I like eating. Though, usually, I get into the kitchen and I get a little ahead of myself. Once I get into the kitchen, I begin to think, “I’ve watched Paula Deen and Gordon Ramsey for years—I’m like some sort of masta’ chef!”

Between this crazy British guy and this southern food expert, I probably know all the things about food.

Full of unearned confidence and with access to your basic cooking ingredients, I google something that looks awesome—like this:

I got this recipie from the "sophistimom" blog, and it looks divine. Here's the link: http://www.sophistimom.com/one-pan-skillet-cookie/

Doesn’t that look amazing?! It sure does! Is it actually amazing? I have no idea.

Half way through, I realized that I didn’t have most the stuff I need to make this—but I’m the next Paula Dean. Surely, I can get around that, right? No butter? No chocolate chips?? No problem! I’m a super-chef, so I can substitute! Canola oil! Cocoa Powder! Problem solved. Don’t have an oven friendly skillet?? Cake pan! Same-same, right?

 

Well, this is what it looked like:

It looks like one of those mud-pies I made when I was little-- except, the mud pies didn't look like they could come to life and kill me.

It’s vaguely reminiscent of a brown sea-sponge. I was thinking of hiding it in the fridge, naming it Quasimodo, and never speaking of it again.

My friend and I, though, were daring and willing to do what it takes to beat this cookie into submission, so we went ahead and shoved that thing in the oven.

I’m glad to say, it didn’t explode, mutate, or come to life. It just tasted like a vaguely chocolate, oily cookie-in-a-cake-pan.

I suspect, though, that it’s really just an alien life form, waiting for me to eat it, so it can get into my body and take over my mind from there. Oh, maybe if I get possessed by an alien they’d put me in the new Men in Black movie… I need to google this.

— Other than this cooking disaster,I’m currently out for spring break. I’ve decided to update my blog every Friday or Saturday– though I’m going to try and post more than once a week if I can.  😀 Hopefully, I can spend some time this week preparing some good posts, though I may just spend that time watching the Food Network.

Maybe This is Why “Rap Artist” Was Never My Career Goal…

3 Mar

For some reason, my teachers from elementary school to high school had a weird fascination with seeing students come up with “raps” about the subject material and performing it for the class. They said it was to help us learn the subject material, but, really, the only thing we learned to do was rhyme.

Moldy food may not have anything to do with ecosystems... but it rhymed. Good enough, right?

You’d have those two kids who could genially create a rap off the top of their heads, and they’d have five or six friends who knew how to use their pencils to make a beat.

Then, you’d have me and my group of confused friends. Even with 5 years of band behind me, finding a beat was like finding Waldo on a blank piece of paper—it’s just not there.

Anyway, now that I’m in college, I don’t have to experience that pain. However, recently, I found the most amazing example of turning classroom stuff into a rap—and it’s so much cooler than it sounds. Someone passed me this link in one of my econ classes, and it’s just so full of awesome. Seeing this combination of nerd-y knowledge and video and “rapping” puts a smile on my face every time I hear it. It’s on my ipod, on all my youtube playlists… I’ve probably posted about it on facebook at least five times. Yeah, I’m a little bit obsessed.

Here’s the link. Watch it. You’ll become ten times cooler, immune to disease, and win the lottery.*

*Yeah, none of these things will happen. Probably.

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