Archive for March, 2007

An unnecessarily long title to describe a seemingly inconsequential event; aka: ramblings of a silly fluffball mechE in northern New York

Wednesday, March 14th, 2007

I tend to acknowledge the beginning of spring by a few environmental indicators including, but not limited to:

1. The smell of the earth becoming unfrozen

2. Birds returning to grace the treetops [and defile our cars...]

3. An uncontrollable urge to clean

4. Girls in skirts

So, it would seem, spring has indeed arrived.  The heavy snow pack has completely melted in the past three days, birds are crapping on my car, skirts are appearing more often, and I want to vaccuum in the worst possible way.  Yet, I think April showers have arrived too early, and are simply playing a cruel joke on good old Jack Frost.  Rest assured that soon Mr. Frost will discover that daylight savings time has been moved foreward.  Then he will, with the fury of all that is demonic plus two fluffy hampsters and several ears of corn, plunge us back into a freeze that spring will have to battle day and night to overcome.

Spring break - travel problems + decent weather - mechanical breakdowns + time - other people making commitments for me = mountain biking!!!

 

Never Nowhere

Tuesday, March 13th, 2007

It has probably happened to you.  Was it while packing your luggage, four passports next to your car keys, and your wife and kids busily preparing for the trip?  Was it when you were about to put the DVD in, television on, popcorn popping, and friends sitting on the couch waiting?  Was it while you were at your desk, in the middle of calculating your taxes, staring into your coffee cup and suddenly realize you have not accomplished anything in two hours?

“Why am I doing this?”

Sure.  We have all been there.  The question ‘why’ is vague, but sometimes we get an answer to this universal question.  We seldom recognize when it happens, but when it does, and when we do, you can’t help but be happy with whatever, whomever, whenever you are.

Such an event occured to me the other day.  The hockey tickets on my whiteboard were calmly waiting for me to bring them to the hockey arena for the ECAC finals game last Friday.  During the course of the day, I began to feel disconnected, listless, and generally crabby.  A careful analysis of the symptoms led me to believe I had the male equivalent of PMS, which, unfortunately, there is no medicine for [...].

Game time arrived, and I decided to stay in my room while others marched off, ready to enjoy the gentle smearing of crimson clad Harvard players all over our home ice.  A friend came over, and eventually convinced me to play some badminton with him at the gym.  I reluctantly agreed, and wound up playing several fun games.  My male PMS symptoms were almost gone, but I still did not know why I felt that way to begin with.  That is, until I was leaving the gym and saw last semester’s materials science professer in the atrium. 

We greeted each other, and began chatting about things.  He informed me that a friend of mine was working for him, doing research.  I myself have been looking for some form of research to be doing, but lacked a professor willing to take me on.  Just before we parted, I asked if he would keep me in mind if he ever had an opening.  His response was: if I were interested, he would find work for me.

Woah.  There it is.  The answer.

Had I gone to the game, I would have never thought to ask him.  Somehow, the course of my day was seemingly predestined, however irritating.  While I have spent the last few months trying to work on my life, it is cool to think that sometimes it is also working on me in the background; keeping itself just below the surface of perception, save for a moment here or there.