Fickle popularity

     When I was in ninth grade, I was part of an after-school program called Dow Explorers (hosted, obviously, by the local Dow Chemicals plant). Once a month or so, a group of us would get together and do simple experiments or projects that tied in to math and science, presumably as a way to see if we were interested in working for said company. I didn't really pay much attention to that side of it, because what we got to do was absolutely fascinating to someone with a sense of exploration. One month we had to bring in water samples from our homes or nearby lakes, and we did various tests to see how much of what additives were in them. Another time we got to learn how the company made Styrofoam and tour the production facility. And one time, we got to make boats...

     One of the nearby towns had a yearly regatta-type thing, being situated on a rather large and fairly calm river. A month or two before it, the people in charge of our program asked us to bring a willing parent/ guardian in, and we split up into teams (kids vs elders) in order to design and build a raft- using only x amount of styrofoam and other materials- that we would then test by participating in the regatta. Naturally, none of us were expected to actually win it, it was more just a "let's give 'em something to do, while showing how invested we are in the community" type thing.

FTP 42 - Know your audience

     I am happy to admit I am quite enraptured with my smartphone. For me, it is a combined street map, day planner, weather forecast, on-the-go translator, stopwatch, timer, clock, phone, text and internet connection, and of course, timewaster. I love silly little games that I can play really quickly while waiting for someone to show up, or for an appointment to start, or just to wind down at night. I do have a few requirements for these games, though; the games 1) cannot be timed or done in a way to make me feel rushed (it's a way to relax for heaven's sake!), 2) must be easily interruptible (they are a time filler, and should be put away when anything important happens), and 3) absolutely must require some amount of logic, intelligence, or problem-solving so that I can, in some small way, justify them as brain-training or self-improvement timewasters.

Business names

     Being as that I have had a load of drama dumped on me recently, I decided to draw for today's post, because I know that if I attempted to write something, it would turn into a rant about the person who is making me angry. With that in mind, here are a couple business name suggestions based on movie quotes. Enjoy!

Sixth Sense:

FTP 41 - Fairness to yourself

     When we're young, we're taught that you should be fair, share what you have with others, and try to be the better person. My parents, in particular, focussed on trying to get us to see the other person's point of view when we got in an argument. While this is, in theory, an admirable goal, there are times when it becomes rather a hindrance in life.

     Now, to start with, it takes a fair bit for me to get angry. Like long-term taking advantage of me, or being horrifically rude and never apologizing, or maliciously damaging my stuff. Outside of active ill-will, however, it's very hard for me to stay angry at someone, because my treacherous mind inevitably starts thinking, "well, look at it from their point of view. Do they have a reason for what they did? Is there logic behind their actions?" And, being the nice person I am, I convince myself that yes, they had a reason to do what they did, and then feel guilty about being angry.

A reused picture appears! It's still effective!

A Way with Words

     When I was 16, I got my first job at the Virginia Renaissance Faire, working in the kitchens. It didn't take me long to figure out that I didn't like food service work (that's a different story), so the next year I worked as a Reveler- ie, unpaid local 'color.' We, the Revelers, were supposed to play the peasantry of the faire. Most of it wasn't bad: we got to interact with the locals, wash clothes in the river (and make as much mess and fuss as we wanted), and had a lot of time that was unsupervised with the injunction to go interact with people. Without a doubt, though, my favorite activity was the Maypole Dance.

     Twice a day, we got to go unwind the ribbons from the Maypole and teach patrons how to do maypole dances. I would occasionally be required to play the music on a recorder, if the musicians were late, but for the most part, I got to dance, weave ribbons, figure out the logistics of weaving and unweaving ribbons and bodies, and encourage people to join in. When it comes to dance, my antisocial tendencies vanish, so I had an absolute ball (pun intended).

FTP 40 - Russian idiom

     In light of the fact that I have an essay due today in my Russian Idioms class, and it is currently the night before and it's not finished, here is a story I have shamelessly lifted from Wikipedia about a Russian idiom, and the story behind it.

The Tale of Cross-Eyed Lefty and the Steel Flea

     Tsar Alexander I of Russia, while visiting England with his servant the Cossack Platov, is shown a variety of modern inventions. Platov keeps insisting that things in Russia are much better until they are shown a small mechanical flea. After his ascension the next tsar, Nicolas I, orders Platov (after he tries to hide the flea) to find someone to outperform the English who had created the clockwork steel flea, which is as small as a crumb, and the key to wind it up can only be seen through a microscope. Platov travels to Tula- a center for the armaments industry- to find someone to better the English invention. Three gunsmiths agree to do the work and barricade themselves in a workshop. Villagers try to get them to come out in various ways (for example by yelling "fire"), but no one can get them to come out. When Platov arrives to check on their progress, he has some Cossacks try to open the workshop. They succeed in getting the roof to come off, but the crowd is disgusted when the trapped smell of body odor and metal work comes out of the workshop. The gunsmiths hand Platov the same flea he gave them and he curses them, believing that they have done absolutely nothing. He ends up dragging Lefty with him in order to have someone to answer for the failure.

Thank you, brain

     I was putzing around the house this week, getting chores done, cleaning up, and generally minding my own business, when this happened:

For some reason, even though I do my best to keep a general schedule in mind to ensure I don't miss preparations for major events, my brain has a tendency to suddenly realize the immanency of random things. It doesn't even have to be something big- I'll occasionally have a moment where my brain forgets what day it is, and I'll be dead convinced that I'm late for work or class or something... only to realize that no, that's tomorrow, calm down and keep doing whatever it was I was doing.

FTP 39 - Road rage

     On my way to my internship this week (clear on the other side of Denver), I suddenly noticed that the car that had been following me a comfortable distance back had mysteriously been replaced my the grill of an SUV that was probably centimeters from my back bumper. Traffic was pretty decent, and we were all doing about 5 mph over the speed limit (because who puts a 55 mph limit on an open, 3-lane highway?), so I wasn't really sure why I was being gestured and shouted at as if I were a snail on the Autobahn.

     Since there was a car about 5 feet ahead of me in the middle lane, I didn't really want to slide over to get out of crazy lady's way, just to have to slam on the breaks when I got there. Instead, I figured I'd keep going til there was a clearing, and then get out of her way. Mind you, I have a bit of a wide following distance, but I was keeping pace with the car in front of me, so it's not like I was holding things up.