Jan. 30th, 2009

rimturse: (Default)
I'm a nerd in that I'm insatiable curious about how things work. Sometimes my curiosity overrides whatever interest I actually have in the topic at hand. Hence, this month, I've studied how a car engine works. I'm not the least interested in cars, but my driving theory book had a brief description of how an engine, gears and the brake system works, which of course did not explain anything PROPERLY, so I had to look it up online and spent a whole evening trying to figure out the movement of the engine, and how the gear cogweels and brake fluid liquid function etc.

And now it's military flares/lights. There is a military base approx. 13 kms from here. I hear the bombings and the gunfire when they have drills, they set up tanks on the field next to the house, they fly over our property with jets and low-going helicopters. All vaguely interesting, but nothing more than that. Now what really BUGS me are the military flares/lights/whatever they are called. You know the ones they use to light up the night sky in non-lighted areas, during bombing missions etc.? They look something like this:

O O Flares
O
O

___________ Ground

where you can still see the light streaks leading from where they were fired at ground level to where they are floating in the air. The floating annoys me to no end. HOW do they float and maintain the exact same position/height before winking out of sight? Shouldn't they at least be loosing altitude? What makes them stay in that position??? If anyone reading this knows the answer, please, please enlighten me. It's driving me crazy.

Small insignificant discoveries this week:
1) I don't like David Letterman - at least not from what I've seen on the TV.
2) I'm a natural at CPR (passed my first aid class, but then I think you'd have to really suck and actually kill the test-dummy to fail, so it's not a big deal).
rimturse: (Default)
Aaand we finished the first aid class at 18:10 way ahead of time. Of course our wireless phone had run out of batteries (it's broken and runs out before you can even take it off the hook) and I didn't get hold of C to pick me up until 20 mins later, which meant 30 mins of waiting outside in the cold. My fingers have just finished defrosting.

Class was okay, though. I even managed to write a little more on my short story while we had to take turns to revive a doll consisting of just torso and head.

And I'm oooold. This was the conversation as I entered the room:
Kid nr. 1: How old are you? 19? Wow, I thought I'd be the oldest in class.
Kid nr. 2: Yeah, I'm 19, nearly 20. Practically ancient *laughs*. How old are you?
Kid nr. 1: 18

I guess this means I'm tethering precariously close to mummification. :p

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