Haiku Monday: Quark-Gluon Plasma

Accelerate stuff;

Watch it collide at light speed.

That's how science works.

Photo Credit (Fermilab, near chicago): TheDreamSky

Thanks, Kate

With no insurance, I didn't stand a chance against the tyranny of the mobile phone business. Screen cracks aren't covered by the manufacturer's warranty, after all, so when I walked into the busy Verizon wireless store, I didn't have high hopes. Kate didn't make me feel much better, either, when she told me there was nothing she could do, and that she could pretty much guarantee that even if I waited forty-five minutes to speak with a techie, he would tell me the same thing. So what was I supposed to do?

"Well," she said, "Let me take it into the back and see what I can do." You can laugh at me from behind the one way mirror is what you can do, I thought. I waited five minutes before Kate emerged from the back office and strolled across the store to another hidden nook. Another five minutes and she returned with a small, plain looking box.

You didn't have to give me a courtesy replacement, Kate. You could have shrugged your shoulders in helplessness and sold me a new phone. You could have left me bitter at the sound of 'Verizon', but instead you left me bewildered and disorientated, my faith in humanity invigorated. It's rare when that happens, so thanks. It sounds silly because it's just a phone, but your actions actually represent something far beyond my dependence on technology. As computers take over, I find solace in knowing that I can depend on other people, namely people like you, Kate.

So thanks.

Photo credit: psd

Stump

If you're bored tonight, why not try a new game? It's social, easy to put together, and buckets-o-fun. This is a crash course in stump.

Things you'll need: stump, nails, hammer, booze, people
Preparation
1. Hammer a nail into the stump for each person playing - try to space them out.
2. Have everyone pick out a nail - make sure that two people don't pick the same nail.
3. Make sure everyone has a drink - preferably beer or something mixed.
Execution
1. Hammer passes clockwise around the room.
2. Each person (while still holding their drink) must toss the hammer, catch it, and hit the stump according to the complexity of his/her toss.
3. If your nail gets hit, drink (more if you really get walloped, less if you get glanced).
4. If there are sparks, everyone drinks.
5. If your nail gets buried, finish your drink - you lose. (If you shine a cell phone from one side of the nail and can see the light from the other side, the nail/person is still in.)
6. If you're the last one standing, celebrate - you win.
Toss Values (feel free to come up with house rules - these are what we use)
1 rotation - 1 swing
1 rotation under the leg - 2 swings
1 rotation behind the back - 3 swings
2 rotations - 4 swings
You probably won't see more than two rotations, but you can make up the rest as you go along.
Notes
1. It's more fun to blindly swing as hard as you can than to aim at individual nails. More sparks that way, too.
2. Find a sturdy hammer. We've broken or bent every one we've used so far.
3. Use good judgement regarding location - nobody want's a broken laptop.
4. Nobody wants a broken face either. Employ safety precautions (make sure everyone can toss the hammer straight upwards).
5. Have a good night and enjoy!


*Photo Credit: photohome_uk

I've got the shower.

*dream about a meteor showering* *open eyes* *yawn* *stretch* *lie down* *close eyes* *feel sleep winning out* *will eyelids open* *kick legs out from covers* *slip into slippers* *socks over my socks* *pants, shirt, shirt, sweater, sweater, windbreaker, sneakers, hat* *orange juice* *trudge downstairs* *cold* *clear night* *no moon* *icy road* *leaves crunch* *look up* *THERE'S ONE (1)* *warm welcomes* *tired eyes* *blankets* *flashlights* *minivan* *sleep* *blankets* *flashlights on* *eyes adjust* *blankets down* *flashlights off* *darkness* *cozy up* *stare* *THERE (2)* *wonder* *OVER THERE (3)* *laugh* *LOOK (4)* *feel insignificant* *THIS IS AWESOME (5)* *discuss constellations* *THAT WAS BRIGHT (6)* *follow satellites across the dome of the sky* *SPACE IS COOL (7)* *(8)* *snacks* *(9)* *deep breath* *smell summer camp in the early morning* *(10)* *cold toes* *(11)* *clouds* *wind* *(12)* *feet frozen* *pack up* *minivan* *close eyes* *nod out* *unload* *trudge upstairs* *hat, sneakers, windbreaker, sweater, sweater, shirt, shirt, pants, socks, socks* *hop into bed* *tuck covers under sides (like a burrito)* *drift off with a grin* *worth it*

*Photo Credit: PMcK

Haiku Monday: Meteor Shower

Meteors shower,
With astro-soap, space rain, and
Light years to air dry.

*Meteor shower courtesy of Corey Limmer, professional roommate.

This second wind's a nor'easter

I've been looking forward to this moment for some time. I haven't posted to the blog with any semblance of consistency since August 22. Finally, finally, finally(!), the hiatus comes to an end. Good thing I left a key under the welcome mat. I've got some stories to tell, some websites to share, and some profound thoughts to recount. As the stories go, some happened a while ago, but I'll write about them like they just happened. Besides trying to write often, I'll be working on a new layout with a different host, but unfortunately you can only look forward to seeing it before it's ready.

I expect some well-founded skepticism about this sudden return from the heart-broken fans, but hopefully I can prove once again that Danger: Diversion is worth your daily/weekly/monthly visit. A big thanks to those of you who voiced your distress over the lack of posts; it made me feel great about myself.


*Octopus from MarkWallace

In case you thought I might be dead...

I'm not dead. If over the past few weeks you've grown into a disappointed blog browser, know that I know I've got some reparations to pay.

Happy Halloween.

*Wittle witch from stevechasmar

One Sweet Pyramid

Maybe you've been there. You start with a foundation of Sugar in the Raw, then add some Domino super structure, and climax with a crest of Sweet'n Low, only to see your sugar packet pyramid crash to the floor like ancient Egyptian ruins.

I know every time I've tried to build a pyramid out of sugar packets, it has ended like 'Pirates of the Caribbean 2,' leaving me tired, bored, and wondering what a sugar-covered Keira Knightley tastes like.

Then I saw it done. When Justine completed her tiered temple, our table clapped, and then the adjacent table, and then the table adjacent to them. Soon, everyone in the diner was either gazing in awe at her architecture, or continuing to quietly eat their breakfast, having not noticed the feat at all.

Once the meal arrived, we equipped our forks, knives, napkins and went to town on what turned out to be a delicious rebuttal to our previous night of drinking. My egg sandwich on a bagel with jalapeno jack cheese (mmmmm) was worth the wait, but this made it that much sweeter. And when Justine did eventually knock it down, I realized that a sugar-covered Keira Knightley probably tastes like a Sour-Patch Kid.

Haiku Monday: Screw-Phew

A fallen screw is

Hard to find, like a needle

In a haystack. There! What luck.

But actually, it took me thirty minutes of searching the same six square feet to find the screw that fell from my glasses. Like when you forget your homework and give the teacher your spiel, but she doesn't believe a word of it, finding a tiny sucker like that screw brings the kind of relief you get when you discover the assignment in another folder. A boo-yah moment.

*Screw city by Pasukaru76

Morning Routine

Three weeks into school and I'd say I've got it down. Wake up at eight when my roommate does. Groggily wish him good luck. Back to sleep. Wake up forty-five minutes later when my alarm goes off. Snooze it. Snooze it. Snooze it. Out of bed at nine.

Shower shoes on. Grab keys, soap, and shampoo. On the way to the bathroom, lock the door. Double check (we have a burgeoning collection of homies; losing them would be heart-breaking). In the bathroom: keys next to sink, hang towel, soap and shampoo on the shower-side counter, turn the knob 315 degrees counter-clockwise, use the toilet while the water gets hot. Enter shower. Black out for twenty minutes. Emerge, clean.

Dry off. In the room: undies, socks, pants, shoes, belt, shirt. I've got Time to kill. I don my dynamic-titanium super suit, custom designed by a freshman wizkid in the engineering school. Hop out the window, activate thrusters and take off. Coast.

Scanning the campus below, I see students rushing to class, some walking, others power walking, still more trotting, and the rest in full sprint. No Time in sight. I land by an old oak where a family of chipmunks scurries, collecting acorns for the coming cold. No Time at all. I notice an impatient classroom of students, packed up to go and anxiously waiting for their professor to finish her last thought. Where did Time go? I take off again, this time thrusting from rooftop to rooftop, noticing the effortless lifestyles of the pigeons eating yesterday's cornbread from a dumpster, pecking their lives away, when I see him.

I quickly change course, increasing my altitude dramatically. I calculate a strategic trajectory and adjust my body into a dive. The wind bites my face as I approach terminal velocity. I point my toes and prepare to land. I roll, springboarding my body into a flying kick. I land Time square in the 12 on his forehead. Taking advantage of the element of surprise, I follow up with an uppercut. But Time slows down. I can't reach him in time. He catches my fist with his seconds hand and in seconds (I know because I kept an eye on that hand) I find my body shattering through a brick wall. As I recover, Time flies.

I get to my feet, punch my thruster, but all I get is smoke and empty whirring sounds. I check my watch. Late for class. I race back to my room. Grab my books, throw them in my knapsack, zip up and hotfoot it to Barnum hall. Only five minutes late. What a routine.

P.S. Isn't it refreshing to read something that isn't a haiku?

P.P.S. The moral? Time flies when you're having fun.

*Pics from D'Arcy Norman and zappowbang