After eleven months of chemistry research, and with the help of my esteemed (and much more experienced) colleague … I have succeeded in making step two of my six step antibiotic synthesis! There was no sarcasm in that previous statement, either. I am psyched. It’s going to be a good summer of research.
WOOOO!
One button dorm party - Utilizing their MIDAS (Multifunction In-Dorm Automation System), these two MIT kids have built an awesome party system into their dorm room.
Try the video captioned “a reenactment of a typical Thursday night party.”
My next lens? - I’ve been needing a faster (but cheap!) lens for some time … and this would allow me to take candids of acceptable quality in low-light situations (weddings, etc.).
Will Ferrell as the devil - I said the GUITAR is out of TUNE!
Strap on wings that let your fly unpowered for 25 miles - Yes, jump out of a plane, and this special suit allows you to fly for long distances at high speeds before deploying your parachute.
Knightley’s performance is so light and yet fierce that she makes the story almost realistic; this is not a well-mannered “Masterpiece Theatre” but a film where strong-willed young people enter life with their minds at war with their hearts.
— Roger Ebert, on Pride and Prejudice
My parents celebrated twenty seven years together today, and the event got me thinking about the blood, sweat, and tears that go into a partnership of almost three decades. It seems to me, from limited experience, that relationships are founded on the buoyancy of optimism, which initially keeps them afloat on the turbulent waters of life. It then also seems inevitable that one must (at some point) decide whether to jump ship or instead choose to be vigilant against the shoals that will founder and also avert becalming far out at sea. My sea-faring analogy stretches both your patience and my nautical vocabulary to the breaking point, so I must discontinue it … but surely you can see what I mean? After optimism, eventually you must make a decision.
An added bonus: you have no way of knowing if your decision is the right one. You may never know. All you know is that its effect on you and those you love is inevitably profound.
Stunning solar powered lamp - The genius is Damian O’Sullivan’s use of the solar panels is to enhance and become integral parts of the design, rather than be relegated to incidental afterthoughts.
Two days ago, I moved out of my home for the past three years: Cretin Hall, Room 500. I moved in to this unique room during the second month of my freshman year of college. After four weeks of rooming with someone I had absolutely nothing in common with, I finally cajoled residence life into giving me the key to the vacant single on the top floor of my 1890’s dorm.
Fifth floor of Cretin was, for many years (probably over 50), the attic of a four floor building. As a result, modern walls and facilities (such as a bathroom) were shoe-horned into fifth floor, creating a very interesting blend of 19th century architectuure and 20th century prefab materials. Do not, however, be mislead by my flowery turn of phrase … the place is a dive. The walls are paper (and by paper, I mean two gypsum boards) thin. During the day, the bathroom sinks leak (frequently saturating dark curly hairs from some unknown resident who refuses to clean the sink), at night, the fluorescent lights are too dim and sparse to illuminate the hallways, and bathroom smells inevitably migrate to the ends of the hall. That end of the hall is precisely where my room was, and where the story improves.
That day that I got my key from residence life, I sprinted up the 9 staircases (no elevator) from ground to summit, and decisively walked to the end of the hall, turning left to see my room’s door, with door decoration but no name. The now-familiar deadbolt slid back, and I opened the door on a cavernous room. Cretin 500 is nudged right into the top corner of the building, creating a slanted ceiling that runs exactly parallel to the pitch of the roof on the outside. The 160 square feet of space may not have all been below nine foot ceilings, but it was more than enough to accomodate luxurious living for a freshman who, hours ago, had been folded into a room so small that a single miniature papazan was the only non-university furniture that fit. I think I said “holy crap” and immediately called home.
The years since then recently crashed down as I prepped my checkout documents and looked at the again empty room for the last time. Memories flooded back: in my first month there, Matt and Shayla came over for a movie, and there was absolutely nowhere comfortable to sit … and I bashed my head on the window frame set into the low ceiling. Shortly after, my then-recent ex girlfriend stopped by and slipped a letter under the door … I learned the value of the peephole and that the floor by the door creaked under my weight. Later that winter, I built rather large subwoofer and moved it into the spacious room, hoping to get back at the people below me who blared their music at all hours of the morning. Cretin 500, despite the adjustment of a new place, was slowly becoming more like a home. I aquired a huge foam chair with a queen sized mattress in it, and moved chairs into the room (one was declared Dan’s own chair … and I wish I still had it). The other chair was a public chair, and when I think of it I always remember the time a kid I knew was drunk and tipping precariously on the chair, his head dangerously far out the window. Someone pulled him in and I asked him to leave. That spring, my bed was a warm haven against what seemed to be a cold world of girl trouble and loneliness. But then, I remember moving out for the first time, and Erin and Dan were seated on that same bed, now devoid of sheets, giving me the courage I sought to meet Mykala for the first time.
Mykala was with me when, that next winter, I discovered the room had flooded with an inch of water while I was gone on winter vacation … I remember climbing the stairs with dread and smelling the wet carpet all the way down the hall. Ahh, but Cretin 500 bounced back … new carpet, new bedding, new posters (I still miss my Shawshank Redemption poster), and a new sack of foam. I began to truly appreciate how beautiful the view of the Minneapolis skyline was out my west window, and I now realize how much I will miss the view. I always liked watching the skyscrapers turn off their lights shortly after midnight. And those windows were so handy for so many things … a great gateway to the thrilling world of climbing around on the roof, a makeshift sink for teeth brushing, a place to dry shoes in the fresh air … and most importantly of all: potato’ing.
I am uncertain how Dan originally came up with the idea of throwing the baked potatoes from the Binz out of the window, but we did so regularly for two years. We would both grab a potato, wrap it in napkins, and run to Cretin 500 to see how far we could pitch the tubers out the window, without hitting the cars and pedestrians below. The physics of the situation were made rather complex by the limited opening of the window. Eventually we perfected a half side-arm, half overhand throw that, recently, yielded a massive throw by Dan that cleared the fence we had been gunning for for so long. We also threw a Nintendo DS and paper airplanes … but those are much less novel things.
There were games of Uno, endless studying, phone calls, tears, laughter, gifts, bringing people into my life, and seeing them leave. There was sun, snow, winter chill, summer heat, the comforting rhythm of pounding rain on the roof close above my head. There was getting up to work out at 5am on dark winter mornings and sleeping until noon on lazy Sundays. I lived and grew more than one post can encompass in this room, and I will miss it. Here’s to you and fare yee well, Cretin 500, where I lived for three years of my college life.
Joan’s Broccoli Madness - If I had been drinking milk when I first viewed this picture, said beverage would have sprayed out my nose.
↓ More
