Brenda's Bra Size

Oh Internet Expert, there really isn't a bra size listed here, is there? I am so glad we have super-hero geniuses in the community. I stand corrected.

How to Change a Flat Tire

In which I rattle off the events of a wonderful morning:

On what was to be a sunny day, mist covers the hairs of my arms when I go to get coffee. Ugh. I’m also getting ready to frost a coconut cream cake and realize I have no powdered sugar…

First, forego the exercise you need and decide to DRIVE your son’s old truck to the store rather than speed walk--just for ONE item. Your own truck is blocked in the driveway by his new truck and you have no key. Buy powdered sugar and drive away.

Sigh, turn around and go back to tell a little old lady she’s left her lights on in her 70’s ‘pimp’ car and feel great you’ve done a good deed! Gawk and continue to gawk at the magnificent yellow-peach roses growing around the block as you near home.

Continue drooling over the flowers, making sure you turn too sharply and knock up against the curb. Sheepishly drive around the corner a few more feet and park, expecting the worse and hoping for the best as you climb out of the truck. (It’s the worst.)

Cuss inside your head and find the WD-40 to spray the lug nuts. Go inside and make the frosting, which turns out rather gluey. Wait awhile and spray lug nuts again, crawling under the truck to find the best spot for the jack; drag your clean hair in the dust. Position it underneath and go buy some ice at the gas station, knowing you’ll soon need a cold drink.

Wait a while longer and reach in the back of the truck for the lug wrench which isn’t there and the crowbar which isn’t there…continue on to the newer truck, then your own truck. It’s ok to cuss out loud at this point, as all the truck beds are unexpectedly tool-free.

Search the garage for some mediocre piece of steel that might work, realizing it doesn’t quite fit right, but ya gotta work with it anyway—and cautiously. Jump up and down on each lug nut—scraped shins aren’t fun. Spray again and come back later.

Continue jumping, putting the tool back on, jumping, etc—soon you’ll be dripping. Do this 5 more times and reach for the jack handle behind the seat, which had vanished, (but at least you've located the hacksaw your son has accused you of taking). Spend 25 minutes painstakingly rotating the jack with a piece of steel; avoid scraping your knuckles on the pavement every ¼ turn and pray that it will lift the truck just high enough ‘cause it looks pretty darn close. Wipe profuse sweat out of your eyes.

Loosen lug nuts all the way so the tire falls off on your foot. Examine the rip in the sidewall, knowing it’s beyond repair. Cuss once again at your idiot self as your realize your Hawaii spending money is about to diminish—because dad always said, ‘if you ruin one tire, you have to buy TWO’. Realize also that 3 Grad hours were unhappily purchased this week. Go get some ice water.

Try to place the other tire on—jack it up another ½ inch, then finger tighten every other lug nut. Lower jack, another time-consuming trial. Tighten lug nuts further—but not excessively—in case the spare goes flat too...

Get another drink and realize your son WAS at home after all…and asleep upstairs.

10 Month Old Tests Chaos Theory

Emery Clay, 10 month old baby from Homer Alaska, spent the better part of his New Year’s Day absorbed in the Sciences while vacationing in the Flint Hills of Kansas.

“It may be early in my career, but I have an uncle who is a Nuclear Engineer and a grandpa that taught Marine Biology—I have a lot of expectations to live up to and time’s wastin’ away”, said young Clay. “I’ve already experimented with Newton’s Universal Law of Gravitation (dropped objects result in a downward movement—like my spoon from a high chair), well enough of that—I feel it’s time to move on.”

With two dedicated lab assistants, Emery resolved to spend the better part of the holiday afternoon experimenting with Physics (the study of Matter and Motion)—but more importantly, the ever-evolving area known as Chaos Theory, where small differences in initial conditions yield widely diverging outcomes.

“I was using analytical techniques—3 balls of various types, and dropping them using a recurrence plot. For any given moment in time, the balls would drop, but after the initial fall, they landed with distinct irregular behaviors.”

Choosing a colorful ball filled with beads, a small golden plastic football, and a spiky green rubber ball (courtesy of Wamego Middle School Science Dept.), Emery performed hundreds of careful ‘drop and releases’.
“I stood by the couch for the better part of an hour, concentrating on the height of the drop—varying from a few inches above the cushion, to as high as my arm could reach. Sometimes I let them roll off my fingertips, palm up—other times I utilized just a typical ‘open the fingers’ motion. Heck, after hundreds of repetitions, I even tried scattering them with both hands. My arm had gotten pretty tired.” Clay admitted.

While the assistants applauded the intense concentration Emery devoted to his experiment, they spent a few moments in quiet speculation when the baby scientist went down for a nap. “Unfortunately it made no real difference whether this tot worked quietly or yelled out heated gibberish—the balls always fell with no set pattern. And because of the language barrier, we have no idea if new theories were generated during this session of experimentation.”

An hour later (and with broccoli for brain sustenance), baby Clay resumed the task at hand for an extended period of time. “While I slept it occurred to me that I could also investigate the powers of Psychokinesis. By placing the gold football against my forehead I tried to develop my ability to ‘force’ it to drop in a consistent manner or influence the object’s movement once it hit the ground. Footballs (or prolate spheroids) tumble in an endless variety of pattern—in hindsight, I should have chosen one of the round balls or spheres for this procedure.”

He added, “Certainly Telekinesis and Chaos Theory are both sciences that I’m bound to scrutinize at a later date, but at this point I’ve decided to try another branch of Science tomorrow, probably Environmental Microbiology. ” Baby Clay concluded modestly that it was mainly his lack of mobility which hindered further processes in Chaos Theory at this time. “I’m only able to take a step or two at a time, and being only 10 months old, well, frankly I don’t have the balance to pick up balls a hundred times in a row. I’m suffering extreme exhaustion. My assistants served me with tremendous dedication.”

Both assistants were quick to point out that it was an honor to work for the prestigious youth. “We foresee great things—he’s already developed an avid interest in Archeology and the deterioration of bones and scrutinizes every leaf he finds for types of Mold. Soil Microbiology would probably be an area of great concern for him, as he is especially observant to his surroundings in nature, plus he likes to dig right in.”

As a side note, baby Emery has also shown intense concentration in the area of Music. “I have exceptional hearing and since my grandmother and dad are musicians; I’ve already developed my own style of dance rhythm—it could be a future hobby , but again, I’ll have to work on my sense of balance.”

In conclusion little Clay once again commended his lab workers. “I’d like to thank them for their many hours of commitment. They are truly caring, attentive people. I only wonder if they realized the Psychological aspect of today’s deliberations: Just how many times will an adult pick up a ball for a baby??”