The Way Things Are



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sometimes quickies are just the thing
2006-02-01, 2:39 p.m.

Do you notice anything different? Like my font isn�t making your eyes bleed, or making your head feel like you�re weaning off your SSRI? Anything?

Last night was the big science/art/history/religion fair at Lil Guy�s school. It�s not JUST a science fair, you see. I keep trying to get him to do a religious history project about the role of the Church in post-plague Europe, but he won�t go for that. I use that as our default project whenever he whines (which he does each year) �I don�t know what to do my project on! Nothing interests me!� It�s not what interests HIM; it�s what interests ME.

One of the boys in his class did a POTATO GUN. Yes, a potato gun. He built a potato gun, and had a hypothesis that a potato carved into an aerodynamic shape would travel further than your standard lumpy potato, and then tested it. I give that boy an A+.

Not to be outdone by the potato gun, I told LG that next year, he�s doing a beer bong. We are going to kick the potato gun�s ASS. It can be all about the physics of the beer bong, and the hypothesis whether or not you can slam a beer more efficiently with a bong than just by doing that open-at-the-bottom-with-bottle-opener strategy. As you know, they aren�t creating any more energy around here. We have a finite amount of matter and energy, so if you can slam your beer whilst conserving energy, I think that�s a good thing.

I had to explain to him what a beer bong is for. See? Science is fun and informative. I smell a federal research grant.

When I floated this idea past some of our friends last night, they did agree that this would be a fantastic final 8th grade project � a good way to go out in style. Or flames. DW pointed out that this might be why people think we're white trash, but I argued that they just think we're fun.

SCIENCE!

***

I am experiencing a kind of crash towards the end of the day. At about 3:30, I get extremely irritable. No, I mean EXTREMELY irritable. Pissed off, flinging papers around my office, ready to bite the head off anybody who walks in here with any bullshit. Cussing at the phone and the relentless email inbox. And then about 30 minutes later, I�m so freaking tired my little pencil-neck � even with the reinforcement of its wattle � can�t support my big blocky noggin, and I just want to crryyyyyyyy. Maybe I�m colicky. When I get home, I reheat a cup of cold coffee (the horror�the horror) just to make it until bedtime.

So I have devised a strategery: I have set the alarm on my cell phone to go off at 3:00, telling me �Wakie!� to remind me to drink a cup of coffee BEFORE it all hits, and then again at 4:00 (�Apple!�) to remind me to eat an apple. I�m hoping this will completely circumvent the melt-down and restore order to the universe. If not, I�ll have to go to Plan B: Surreptitious Office Alcohol. You all sensed a disturbance in the force, didn�t you? Yeah, it was bad.

***

Someone told me something particularly repulsive today, and I made this face and couldn�t get it to subside, so I took a picture of it. I won�t link the name of the beneficiary of this face (not because I can�t, because I CAN), but dude, if you want to own it and then maybe have to explain it, just claim it in the comments. This one�s for you. ::clink!::


ew

That�s about all I have for you today, pumpkins. It�s just a quickie, but sometimes quickies are just the thing, aren�t they?

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