Shooting Range

The other day Phil took me shooting at the range. Well. Actually, I didn't initially want to go. At all. We bargained: I'd come along to the range with him- "just to watch"- in exchange for him making up a story to tell me that was at least 5 minutes long. I love being told stories. It's like playing pretend or daydreaming without all the exhausting planning.

So we went to the range. I was crabby. And then of course at one point he offers to let me shoot his pistol. (Men are so tricky.) But oddly enough, for the first time I really WANTED to shoot. Don't get me wrong. I love the idea of being able to shoot. I really like the idea of going shooting. But the reality is I grew up with absolutely no experience with weapons. ZERO. And gleaned about as much from movies and what not. It's not something I ever really thought about until I fell in love with someone who was in the Army. I like the idea of being able to defend myself. I appreciate the usefulness of weapons in that respect. But the fact of the matter is guns have always been to me a scary hunk of metal that can kill people. Very scary. Sure I've shot before a few times with Phil and I WANT to learn to be comfortable enough with a gun in order to be competent with it... but it always seems that I don't really want to go shooting when the occasion arises. But I guess after a year of living in the same place as Phil and him having guns at his apartment and watching him fiddle with them and clean them and having explained how they operate and how they are to be handled DOZENS of times it finally sunk in enough that I don't panic as much when I actually have one in my hands.

It probably sounds silly enough to anyone reading this that is familiar with guns (thinking of you in particular, Jack), but my past experiences at the range have consisted of me trying to stuff down panic and not really understanding how to clear the weapon and that I shouldn't put it down until I clear it and how to do that and being weirded out by my clumsiness with them and how much- to me-, handling them seems to be much more a matter of force than finesse. That's not really how I do things in my line of work. You don't FORCE a catheter in. You finesse it. Or people scream.

But at any rate, I was pleased because for the first time I actually felt like I knew what I was doing. It had finally sunk it how the pistol operates. I didn't forget the second I picked it up and need to look to Phil every 10 seconds. I remembered what to do and I did it. I was able to focus on actually shooting instead of dreading when I'd have to put it down and trying to remember what to do when that time came. I didn't have freaked out anticipation of every bang every time I squeezed the trigger. I was no longer scared that I'd drop a loaded weapon or do something stupid.

It was kind of a big deal for me. I felt in control. I need a LOT of work... but at least I was in control. It was really cool.

We should bargain more often.

Also, Phil even mentioned letting me keep his 45 caliber Springfield Armory 1911 pistol at my house for the first time. I feel so honored and Responsible. Maybe I'm a Hound after all.. hehe...

Maggie Musings

The other day while dozing off on the couch, my dazed, pre-sleep brain was contemplating how to wrap my birthday presents for Phil.

At first, I was thinking to wrap them all separately... but then I had vague apprehensions along the lines of it maybe coming across as too much cuz I know he's not that into the whole birthday thing. But then, all sleepy and what-not I thought, "But if I put them all in the same box, and he shakes it, then something might break." But then another me countered, "You dork, nothing in that package is breakable!" Chimes another me, "But if I put an egg in it, THAT'D sure teach him to shake his birthday presents. Hehe... sucker."

Then I forgot all about Phil and his upcoming birthday, and got lost in wishes of having a friend who compulsively shook all of his/her presents. As a practical joke I would wrap a box with dozens of loose raw eggs in it, JUST so that when they shook it I could jump in and say, "AHA!! That'll teach YOU to try an' count your chickens before they're hatched!" And then I peacefully dozed off with a smile upon my lips.

Stem cells in Space

So about my Anatomy & Physiology professor? I don't mean to gush, but my gosh is she awesome. She has these fantastic stories related to whatever we're studying about. When we were talking about retraining cells to serve different functions, she told us about a NASA grant for stem cell research (yeah. NASA. And they were not using stem cells from unborn children.) she had worked on. Keep in mind as you read on that this is my layman's memory of a lot more complicated situation that she explained to us. A lot of it was over my head. So this is the gleanings.

As you know, stem cells are unspecialized cells that are able to renew themselves indefinitely and can also differentiate into specialized cell types with specific functions, such as a nerve cell or liver cell. Eventually, stem cells may be used to replace damaged or dysfunctional cells in the body with healthy new ones. But right, that's assuming we can figure out what determines or cues the cells to develop these specific functions and train them to do it ourselves.

For some reason that's over my level of comprehension at this point, their experiments were based on the hypothesis that they would be able to make more progress in this area and learn more about it if they were able to grow these cells without the impediment of gravity. And that's where NASA stepped in and allowed them to send their experiments up on their shuttles in this constantly rotating device on a regular basis. From what I understand, they're still conducting these experiments. From what she said it was really neat... but the resulting tissue was something they had never seen before and they had NO IDEA what the heck it was.

But right, the whole thing is pretty fascinating. Why did she trade that job for this one?! Apparently other jobs she's worked are as a scientist in a hospital setting-- she helped train back muscle so that it would contract with heart muscles every second of every day even though that's obviously not a normal function of back muscle. And right, they then wrap that muscle around the heart to strengthen it. Pretty freaking crazy.

I love being in class with this woman. Every little boring thing we learn becomes fascinating as she ties it in with clinical application and/or stories along those lines. She makes things you'd normally have to memorize make sense. I love listening to her... I wish I could be like her...

"Merry Christmas!!" or "We built a Snowman!!"

Okay, technically I don't have much to say about Christmas. It was really good. My family's fantabulous. I wish Phil could have been there. That pretty much sums it up! So I'm just going to say it was good, and joyful, and Christ was born! Everything is how it should be, I guess.

So about that snowman. Today was a beautiful snowy day, so Dan'l and I set out to play:

















We built a lovely SnowMan named Reggie:

Dan'l didn't get along very well with Reggie:





















Or me:





















So I deactivated him.

YAAAYY Snowman Fun!!

"Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions"

Recently I've begun reading two completely seperate blogs with the common theme of "flatland." I assumed that this was no coincidence and that they must both inspired by the same book and decided to find it and order myself a copy. I know it's a little weird to be posting about a book I've never even read, but I'm excited!

It's called "Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions," and according to wiki, it's "an 1884 novella by Edwin Abbott Abbott, still popular among mathematics and computer science students, and considered useful reading for people studying topics such as the concept of other dimensions. As a piece of literature, Flatland is respected for its satire on the social hierarchy of Victorian society." Also, there are two independent animated films based on it that came out this last year.

Also of interest was the definition of the perjorative term 'flatlander': a term used, disparagingly, by people living at higher altitudes—typically in smaller towns—to refer to those living at lower altitudes. In the blogosphere it seems to be used to describe not the physical location of where a person was raised, but their intellectual haunts.

And on the subject of flatlanders, there's another book call "flatlanders and ridgerunners" (that's a review by another blogger) and from what I've read about it, it sounds pretty nifty, too. I think I might check that out as well, and perhaps even enjoy it more as a relative flatlander from the midwest myself. However lofty my aspirations, in the end I'm fairly two-dimensional, like a black and white cookie.

At any rate, I'll let you all know how the books go!

Neti Pots

Okay, I am now officially a Neti Pot convert.

My dear brother Matt, a daily jala neti practitioner for some time now, got me a pot (SinuCleanse being readily available at local pharmacies, and incidentally formulated and marketed by my second cousin, Diane Heatley, M.D. I've got an awesome family, what can I say.) because I was coming down with a cold and my sinuses were clearly stuffed up. Not only is this the fastest recovery time I've ever had for a cold, but I can BREATH BETTER than normally, even while sick! It's crazy how much better I can breathe, I'm in shock. Also, it's been helping me sleep through the night... I've known for a long time I have some mild form of sleep apnea, common enough but whatcha gonna do really... but I've noticed I wake up a lot less and am not as restless while sleeping since I started netiing daily. It's fantastic.

I think everybody should start cleaning their noses as often as their teeth.

Also, it helps with allergies, nasal congestion, dry air, post-smoking or being around a campfire getting all that crap out, shortening the length of a cold, post-nasal drip, all sorts of things. So yeah. Get a neti pot, guys. It's great.

Things I learned in my first week of school

1. Other cultures have identified other senses than the five classical senses (taste, touch, sight, sound, hearing)... for example, the sense of "spiciness." This is not simply breaking down the sense of taste, however, it was something that extended to personal relationships. If your friendship was "spicy" it meant you were more intimate with one another. Although, food did come into play: you would serve spicier food to people with whom you had a spicier connection. Innnteresting. Is that where we got the notion of needing to "spice things up" in relationships, perhaps? I did a little research on it online (about 25 minutes) and didn't find too much on the subject, but I'm gonna ask my prof. where she read about that cuz I'm totally interested in reading more about that. How fascinating...

2. People carry around 25lbs + of stool in their intestines at any given time. When Elvis Presley died he had over 40lbs. Now we know where the "full of ****" expression comes from, too.

Seriously fascinating, huh? Well... I mean, I learned more than just that, but I've judged those two to be the most bloggable tidbits. I hope you guys enjoyed them as much as me. Seriously... that last one makes me want to go down a bottle of laxatives....

Phil

... is Awesome! I've heard from him like 4 times in the last 9 days. This is unprecedented. I can't get this stupid silly grin off my face!

...Except for when I think about how he called the day after his birthday and I forgot to mention it. Iiiiiidiot. So am I a bad girlfriend or what?

I heart H&R Block

So I need to apply with FAFSA cuz I need financial aid to go back to school, so that meant I had to do taxes. Which I haven't done in two years. So last Friday I went to H&R Block to see if they could help me out. I was really dragging my feet as I trudged through their doors cuz I was expecting to have to pay a lot of money, and that they wouldn't even be able to help me. This is the state in which I arrived:

1. I hadn't filed for 2005.
2. I didn't have 2005's W2s.
3. I had an extension, but hadn't filed for 2006.
4. I was missing one of my W2s for 2006, cuz Ave X never sent it to me.
5. I've been claiming more exemptions (?) than I'm due so they take out less taxes- so I was expecting to have to pay a lot back.

But Tolanda at H&R Block TOTALLY hooked me up with her tax knowledge and stuff and in the end, I didn't even NEED to file for 2005, so that was all square, and I ended up getting twice what they took out back for 2006, cuz she knew about some programs I qualified for and stuff. Pretty crazy cool if you ask me... I doubled my returns on the taxes the government had me pay this year! Taxes are like a mandatory fast-growing investment account when you file through H&R Block!

Hawaii Fantasy

So lately I've been researching flight schools, cuz Noah was talking about wanting to become a helicopter pilot once he got out before the whole second deployment thing happened. Granted, he also was talking about NOT becoming a helicopter pilot (something about impracticality? huh, what's that?), but he seemed so happy and interested in the helicopter pilot thing, that I thought it'd be worthwhile to start compiling information (yes, a year an half in advance) and seeing what's out there just for fun. And it's a nice distraction from my job search now and then.

Seriously, flying helicopters as a profession is TOTALLY COOL!!Researching this has made me rethink my career path. Haha... I'm almost tempted to steal his dream job while he's in Iraq. And then I'm going to join the "Whirly Girls." Sweet. Except not. He's suited to it and I'm not. But it's still totally sweet.

Anyways, one of the flight schools I particularly like is in Hawaii, so I used that as an excuse to research cost of living, etc., in Hawai... and wow! Totally cool! It's actually less expensive than living in CA, from what I can tell! (At least... for a year... renting) And it's easier to rent there without having to sign into a long lease cuz with all the tourists that's pretty standard. Awesome. Anyways.

I've been having a lot of fun checking these places out. It's cool to see how easily fantasies and whims could become a reality. It makes my day so much easier...

Babysitting 8 Marine Children

So, wow. What a day.

As a favor to my mother, and a friend of my mother I agree to babysit for 8 children from 4am (when the dad left for a flight out of Chicago) to 9pm (when the mom got home from her return flight out of Chicago). I'd never met the mother, the father, or a single one of their 8 children. So around 10pm the night before I realized I hadn't spoken to the mother since the ONE time we talked about the job 3 weeks prior, I didn't know if they still needed me to do it, where they lived, or anything. So I called and after several attempts got through to the dad who was basically like, "See ya at 4am!"

So I show up at 4am and meet the dad. He's totally cool. Basically he says "Here's our wipe-off board of information, here's a bed you can sleep in 'till the kids get up, and here's where we keep our coffee pot." All the essentials, totally efficient. So as an afterthought I determine where the 1 and 3 year old are sleeping (I figured they'd be my biggest concerns), and get a run down of names that went in one ear out the other, and establish there are no seizure kids or medications to be dealt with. Awesome. Then he leaves.

So a couple hours later I go into the bathroom (for obvious reasons) and before I can even get down to business I realize that the toilet is already hopelessly clogged. So I start plunging. Then I hear this knocking on the door. When I say knocking, what I really mean is patting. Like a tiny tiny palm gently bumping it in succession. So I instinctively (and tiredly) say "Just a minute!" in my friendly voice. In the three seconds that follow between plunges I have a panicked realization that a small child just knocked on the bathroom door... WHAT if they have an accident. Before I can even wonder I hear a tiny squeaky voice say, "Uhh... is everything alRIGHT in there..?" So I start laughing, open the door, and introduce myself to the tiny slip of a girl (6 yo) who comes sauntering in. She's talking a mile a minute filling me in with all the family gossip, who has what "problems," while I unclog the toilet, and then we proceed to brush our teeth and hair together. This kid is totally hysterical. Most of them were.

Six boys and two girls, ages 16 to 18 months. Why didn't the 16 yo babysit, you ask? Because the 14 year old is 6'2 and the 11 yo 5'9 (substantially taller than her) and the two beneath them are just as bad and all four are the sons of a retired marine and, quote, "We LOVE a good fight!!"

But for all that, they're INSANELY disciplined and pretty much did everything that needed to be done automatically. I don't know how children get to be as helpful as theirs were..... must be a marine thing...

************************************************************************

"Sir?" Jermained pretended not to hear her and kept walking. "Sir!" He stopped. "Do you have an appointment?" He screwed up his face a little and looked at her. "No, no I don't. I just need a moment, though. In and out." Her cold, haughty blue eyes gave him a quick once over. "I'm sorry, but that's not possible. If you want to make an appointment, I'm sure we can fit you in sometime at the beginning of next week..." He cursed under his breath and started to walk away. Halfway across the room he turned abruptly and walked briskly into the men's room....

frickin' awesome

just found this out... "since California’s passing of AB 50, the state is not in compliance with the US Constitution’s 2nd and 14th Amendments, and we will not sell nor service any of our products to any Government agency of the State of California."
-Ronnie Barrett
Owner and CEO
Barrett Firearms Manufacturing Inc.

That is possibly the awesomest thing ever. Won't let your citizens have .50 caliber rifles California? OK, you can't either. Apparently the LAPD sent one of their 82 series rifles to Barrett firearms for servicing while officially supporting the passage of the law that makes it illegal for civilians to buy them. Not only did Barrett refuse to service the rifle, he wouldn't even send it back. The LAPD had to send someone to pick it up. Do yeah, awesome. Buy Barrett rifles. (By the way, if anyone is wondering what to get me for Christmas...)

(read more: Barrett news)

Army stuff

I finally shot expert with my rifle (hooray!) after more than two and a half years in the army. If you think that sounds pathetic, well maybe it is but screw you anyway. I actually haven't had that many chances to qualify at ranges that really worked (two or three.)
Also I get to shoot a Mk 19 (full auto 40mm grenade launcher) on Monday.
Guns are cool.

Old Crow Medicine Show

... was playing at the House of Blues in Chicago this last Friday. What an EXCELLENT concert!! It was a great time- violent rain, crashing thunder and lightening, swarms of people, free flowing beer, and fan-frickin-tastic music! Again, I had a great time.

There was a little difficulty getting things going (among which was forgetting our tickets, having to find our brother who lives in Chicago- and incidentally was already "Getting There Drunk" by 7pm- at some random bar to get the keys to his apt in order to reprint them, losing them after reprinting them in the two blocks from the parking structure to the House of Blues, coming a hairs-breadth from dishonestly obtaining some more, buying some more off some random chick for way less than they cost), but once we did it was freakin' crazy fun.

The next morning we had the pleasure of meeting up with my Crazy Asian cousin for a brief but pleasant breakfast. I then had to take off early to RACE back to Milwaukee to get back in time for work- a feat I accomplished against odds with 67 seconds to spare. I then ROCKED at work and had an impressively high sales yield to dazzle my manager with.

After work I spent Saturday evening finishing 'To Kill A Mockingbird"- a DEFINITE favorite of mine. I then went shopping today, got my Crazy Asian cousin and sister (and myself- Tee Hee!) a Christmas present, as well as a winter coat (FINALLY! I've been freezing!) and some bubble bath (MMmmmmm... bubblebath). I then went to Mass and then went over to my sisters to watch Desperate Housewives while we chatted and drank hot cocoa. All in all, a very pleasant weekend. I owe it all to the precedent set by the OCMS concert: It was just the pick-me-up I've been needing.

Also...

I've fueled a tank in my underwear. And that's awesome.

Why Semi's are called Semi's

So since Phil posted his ponderings about why semi trucks are called semi's since they're not semi anything... they're freaking huge... I've been playing this little game at work.

So I'm working in customer service/sales in the airport, and have to deal with a lot of frustrated (that's putting it charitably) travelers. It's very frequent that one of our customers will have an outburst, and inquire, "well WHY... blahblahblah": questions I find unpleasant to answer, because we both know they're not going to be happy with the answer. So right, I then respond in a tone reflecting how equally bewildered and cheated I feel ask, "YEAH, and WHY do they call Semi's Semi's??" (Okay, so it's not kosher exactly, but it's certainly much more fun for me.)

They then stop and look at me, surprised and confused, and up until last night, they all stopped suddenly (distracted) and realize they don't know either and we proceed to wonder and discuss. It's fun, as I said, and a useful tool for diffusing the situation.

But then last night a woman came in who's husband works with trucks (as I found out later), and of course decided to play with her. Turns out she actually had an answer! Apparently you're NOT supposed to call it a semi unless it's just the front engine part with no trailor or load attached. If it's the full deal, it's called a tractor trailor. But since "tractor trailor" is pretty cumbersome, I guess the masses (me and my previous clients) just took to calling them all semi's.

Figures.

So now I need a new question for my game. Anybody? It's gotta be hard or it won't work.

the gin and tonic

...is awesome and also my new favorite drink. It's not that it tastes good, it doesn't have to taste good. It's just awesome. Don't doubt me on this one. (but if you still do, click here)

Alright, I admit it already

Wikipedia was actually a pretty darn good idea. I guess I didn't like all the hype around it at first and didn't see what it was actually going to do. But a couple of months ago I started noticing that wikipedia articles were in the top ten google results for almost all of my searches. Then yesterday, I found this. So yeah, I admit it. Wikipedia is awesome.

Also check out this article: Sealand

Dan the Climber Man

So, right! This is just a little tribute to a cool person. Tonight I went to the bar with Matt and Dan, one of his rock climbing buddies. I'm really diggin' Dan. He's so straightforward, guileless. I was totally struck tonight, because my temptation is to classify him as a stoner (he smokes pretty often), and all the negative baggage that goes along with that, but I was so wrong to jump to that conclusion. Even where I do disagree with him, I still like him, because he makes his drug use be less recreational and more spiritual. I appreciate that, whether or not it's realistic. Furthermore, I just cannot believe how much he increases the desire to love, simply, in the people he interacts with. He's the kind of person who makes you feel like you ought to be together. I do not mean this in a creepy way, I mean it in the companionship way. He doesn't have the nimby-pimby "if you want to come along, that'd be great, if not that's fine" way of inviting you to do things... he just says "you should come." He makes you want to do things. I like that. Dan has disarming simplicity and charm. I wish I could be more like him.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Wooden Mallets

I would like to educate you on wooden mallets today. Wooden mallets are made of wood, and are in the shape of a mallet. They are really hurtful. Do not let anyone hit you with one. They make wretched bruises, and I repeat... they really hurt. That is all.