Talk Nerdy to Me

I have to change my password at work a lot. Here’s the drill—every 6 weeks or so I get this annoying pop up message when I’m trying to log in telling me I have to change my password. Then, inevitably, next time I log in I’ll forget my new password...
When you’re teaching a bunch of hooligans and the technology fails it’s one more unpleasant thing to do. (p.s. I like the hooligans.)

Ok, so here’s the solution—the periodic table. Yes, you read that correctly. But how can the periodic table help with thinking of new, easy to remember, constantly changing passwords?? After three or four password changes I was racking my brain trying to quickly come up with something memorable when my eyes rested upon the periodic table hanging magnanimously on the wall. I pondered its beauty for a moment when it struck me. I typed in hydrogen as my new password. 6 weeks later: helium. Then, you guessed it, lithium. , etc.

And now after using a password for almost 2 months I can, with no trouble at all, spell vanadium, scandium, manganese not to be confused with magnesium, etc.

I could take anyone in a periodic table spelling bee. Bring it.

Feel free to use this solution if you are also plagued with a constantly changing password.

How many times have you sat through a boring Chemistry lecture (just kidding, they're never boring!) to find yourself trying to spell words with the periodic table?
Never??
Oh, ahem, me neither...

But if you're as distractable as I am---Oh look, something shiny!

You might love this website as much as me. Ok, maybe not that much, but you might enjoy it a little:

What's in a Name?

10 letters. That's it.
Ever since I started filling out forms and realized that there was a superfluous line intended to further identify me from all the other Karens in the universe, my middle name deficit has been a sore spot. But what could I do about it? Complaints filed to my parents fell on deaf ears and only produced blank stares.

What's the big deal, my mom didn't have a middle name either. Emily? Nope. Well...kinda nope. Let me explain. You might remember that Clifford the Big Red Dog has a devoted and loyal companion named Emily Elizabeth. My mom often said that if she had given Emily a middle name it would have been Elizabeth in honor of her mother. I even recall her calling Emily that when we were little. Then Em grew up and had babies, all of which have middles (way to go Em), and along come Anna Elizabeth, whom I have always suspected Emily named after herself.
But even though Emily, Mom and I were born binomials, I alone still pine for trinomial status. Marriage. Yep. That, my friends, is the way to get a middle name. Alas, the elusive hunt continues.

Imagine my shock to learn that some lucky girls get middle names before they are married! My other four sisters have beautiful middles: Jayne, Mariana, Rose and Irene. What is it about a middle name that makes me want to whisper it like a sacred wish...

You might believe you are the first person I have whined to about this sad, sad state of affairs. You are incorrect. Many dear and loving people have listened and consoled me through this trial. Some have even gone so far as to offer advice. Here is the most common: "Ummm...why don't you just give yourself a middle name?"

Ok. No.

It doesn't work. Because it's not permanent, it's not a part of who you are. No one ever yelled it at you when you were in trouble. And it's not like I haven't tried.

In 8th grade: Flower

In 10th grade: respelled first name Keiranne (more letters doesn't fill the void)

Alternate attempts: Bailey, Beatrice, Georgia, Sunshine (during my hippiest hippy stage), Danger, Egg, Hortense, Eunice...
Ok, maybe I'm just making those last few up. But I think I've illustrated my point. I stink at picking out names. If I had ever marched down to city hall (or where ever you go to change your name) and saddled one of these to myself for life, I'm sure I would have lived to regret it. Perhaps "Danger" would be the exception.

The thing about names is you can't really give them to yourself. Even nicknames can't really be self imposed. When my college roommates started calling me Ren, about all I could do is decide that it should be spelled with a "w" so as not to confuse it with Stimpy's sidekick. Or is Stimpy the sidekick?


So two questions:
1. What is your middle name and what's the story?
2. Since I can't dub myself, what middle name would you give me?

Elastic Potential Energy

Fact: I really love summer vacation. I panic when I see leaves falling, my heart rate elevates exponentially while walking through stores with school supplies on sale and don't even talk to me about the sun setting earlier--I might cry a little. Did I mention that I love summer... Why I don't I marry it?, you ask. You better believe me, I would if I could. Absolutely.

Don't get me wrong, teaching's seriously the best gig and I'm looking forward to this year's encore performance. Much of this week has been devoted to pouring over my classroom textbooks, planning labs and aligning with state standards--so if you're one of my students' parents don't panic too much; I promise to show up on the first day. I promise to be professional and not take it out on the children that all my hopes and dreams of freedom have been crushed and dashed. There may be some teeth gnashing and tantrum throwing when my alarm goes off however.

Let's do some science. If I had to use scientific vocabulary to describe how I feel in August, I would select:

Potential Energy

PE refers, basically, to the ability to do work without actually doing work. A rock at the edge of a cliff above you isn't actually falling on your head, but you'd be kind of foolish to stand there because it has the potential to give you a very nasty headache. Get it?
Several varieties of potential energy exist to describe a myriad of situations.

potential kinetic energy

potential electric energy

gravitational potential energy

August, I think, is best described as elastic potential energy though. Let's refer to figure 1.1

Yes, I feel a little squished.

What's so great about summer you wonder? ARE YOU CRAZY!

A day in the life of a vacationing teacher:

6:00 ~ alarm goes off (just kidding, who needs an alarm?)
8:00 ~ wake up when I hear my roommate leaving for work (sucker)
9:00 ~ think about waking up, but remember that I stayed awake until 2 am reading, so sleep a little longer
10:15 ~ back is starting to ache from being in bed so long
10:20 ~ check facebook to see what happened to my peeps overnight
1:00 ~ eat
2:00 ~ whatever I want
3:00 ~ play tetris
4:00 ~ naptime
5:00 ~ roommate comes home, we talk [mostly about guys]
7:00 ~ adventures
11:00 ~ roommate calls it a night
12:00 ~ check facebook again

It's a pretty sweet schedule. But some days I actually leave the house. Refer to figures 1.2 - 1.9


fig. 1.2 Mt. St. Helens


fig. 1.3 Ape Caves


fig. 1.4 San Jauns Island ferry


fig 1.5 Oregon Coast


fig 1.6 Family reunion


fig 1.7 Camping


fig 1.8 Puget Sound sunset


fig 1.9 Kayaking


My 16 year-old nephew, who I texted yesterday with my reservations about the impending school year, replied affirmatively to my suggestion that panicking was the appropriate response. So if the teachers and the students don't want to go--why do we do it? Let's call the whole thing off, eh? (Except I'd like an arrangement where I still get paid.)

Lame List

What's weak this week:

Plastic covers on all the windows. Lame.

Cleaning 18 months of rubbish out of my dresser. Lame.

Unrequited love. Lame! Lame! Lame!

Geekery to the nth power

For Christmas my remarkable, beautiful, crafty sister Honor gave me an incredible quilt. I love it. And I love to snuggle under it with a book or my thoughts. This is strictly a one-person-at-a-time snuggle quilt though. For two reasons:
• reason #1 - I'm single. No one to snuggle with. *sigh*
• reason #2 - it’s a little quilt folks, I’m no teeny meeny.
• an unexpected 3rd reason (a fun surprise!) - I’m not so good at sharing. See reasono numero uno.

My cute sister, the quilter.

The cute quilt, with a side of cuteness.

So a couple of weeks ago when I stumbled across this quilt. Oh my! I want it. How about it Honor?