Mystery solved

My mom has figured out where Zule really lives -- or in reality, she has solved the case of the missing tortillas.

"It's based on 30 years of experience," she said, after I told her that her advice of looking underneath the vegetable drawers was absolutely correct.

The tortillas have been located. We had opened the drawers during our many searches of our refrigerator, but could not see anything behind or underneath. Yet last night, with mom's wise advice, we took the drawers all the way out of the fridge -- and there were the missing tortillas.

"YES! I AM NOT CRAZY!!" I yelled while doing a triumphant dance around the kitchen with the tortillas.

So, thank you, Mom, for letting me know where Zule returns things when he doesn't want me to get mad about his borrowing food without asking.

RIP Dr. Gonzo

This morning while eating my waffle and watching TV, I heard the news. Hunter S. Thompson is dead.

To an extent, I am crushed. That's probably being fairly overdramatic, but it does make me sad. Thompson is one of my favorite authors. It may be cliche, but "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" is one of my favorite books ever. I've read it probably 50 times, and I still laugh out loud each time. I've also read his novel "The Rum Diary" a ton of times because it's excellent.

I read Thompson's more current stories and articles here and there, but it's his older stuff that I stuck to. "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72" is amazing, and "Hell's Angels" is also just as interesting.

You may not agree with his politics, but at least acknowledge his contributions to journalism and literature in general.

Suicide is a horrible thing, but I hope Thompson has found some peace now. I hope Dr. Gonzo is happily driving the Great Red Shark around somewhere in the afterlife.

I heart New York
I do, New York is one of my favorite places to visit for a number of reasons. One of those reasons is that you will see all kinds of weird and/or funny things while you are there. So, while I was in NYC Wednesday through Thursday night, I watched for the weird and compiled a list of my three favorite NYC things that happened while I was there. They are in no particular order.

#1- I saw a rat on the subway. This is cool to me because for some reason I always want to see one when I go to NYC. Also, in Boston, all the subways had were these tiny little mice that would scurry about around the tracks. In NYC, they have big frickin' rats. And I saw one.

#2- On the subway there was a guy across from me holding a DVD. I didn't think much of it because the title was one I'd never heard of, "Deep Inside." Then the guy moved his hand to reveal the rest of the cover. Yup, straight up porn. The woman on the front cover was sans clothing and holding her giant breasts.

The guy was just flipping through the DVD's enclosed details (liner notes? I don't know what you call those things in DVDs), and was not at all ashamed of holding up his most recent porn selection up for all to see on the subway. Soon after, he nodded off in his seat while holding the porn DVD close to him like a teddy bear.

#3- While waiting for my train at Penn Station, this guy talking very loudly walked up behind me. Normally I wouldn't care because many times they look to be talking to themselves, but rather they have one of those earphone microphone things for their cell phones. Yet I paid attention to this guy's conversation because he had the best accent ever. It was a cross between something French and the Guatemalan houseboy that Hank Azaria plays in the movie "The Birdcage." Hilarious.

UNTIL, I realized what he was talking about. It turned out he was actually some whacko and was talking out loud to whomever was around him. His rant was insanely anti-Semitic and therefore extremely uncomfortable to listen to. So, it quickly turned into a non-favorite moment. I just listed it here because at first I enjoyed his accent. Once I heard the topic of his discourse, I wanted to kick him in the nuts and say (a la Jack Nicholson but with my own addition), "Go sell crazy somewhere else, we're all stocked up here, you f*cking whacko idiot."

So while this post started off humorous, it now makes me want to ask my readers -- what do you do when an obvious whacko is spouting off excessive hate speech right by you? I mean, telling this guy to shut up and move on would've done nothing except make him stick around longer, really. I think everyone else around him realized the same, and we just all moved away from him.

Ideas?

Wow, this blog is almost crazy, too. Without the anti-Semitic rants, of course. From giant rats, to porn, to "How do you handle hate speech?" all in one post.

Don't say I never give you a variety of things to discuss or think about.

Weather class update

Weather class was fun last night. Despite how frank Joe is with me, I just couldn't bring myself to ask him if he had, in fact, ended up seeing boobs last week.

He continues to charm me with his cute 19-year-old ways, though, twirling the beat-up University of Maryland hat around on his head, endlessly text-messaging during class, and endlessly fidgeting by bouncing his left leg up and down. He has now convinced me to print out each week's lecture notes for him before class (the notes are available on the class website). I can't say no to him, he's too innocent. Last night I learned that all he wants to do with himself is be an mechanic, which is very cool to me.

And since he seems to offer up a great nugget of conversation with me each week, here is the nugget from last night:

During a particularly long and informative part of the the prof's lecture on levels of the atmosphere, Joe stopped bouncing his left leg long enough to lean over to me and say, "Dude, doesn't he totally look like Santa Claus?"

I stopped taking notes for a second to consider the suggestion. "Yeah, I guess so -- with a more stylish beard. Maybe he shaves it off after December. Yes, he does, you're right."

"Totally," Joe continued.

"And it would make sense that this would be his job in the off-season -- I mean, wouldn't Santa Claus have to know something about meteorology since he flies so much?" I offered.

"Yeah, that makes sense." Joe looked proud of his accomplishment for a moment, and then spun his hat around again.

Each week gets better and better.

Also, on a totally unrelated note, here's a hilarious video of the kids' show Barney set to Tupac music. The lyrics aren't safe for work, but the video is. Enjoy.

V-day

Ah, love. It makes some mushy, and it makes others want to vomit. To each their own, I say. Mush or vomit, it's all up to you and your lover of choice.

I spent part of last week wondering what I should get for my dear wife for V-day. While in the car one afternoon, I heard a horrible Valentine's Day gift idea on the radio. Laser Hair Removal.

The female announcer said, "Wondering what to get your special someone for Valentine's Day? How about the joy of laser hair removal?"

She went on, but I was lost in shock and didn't hear the rest. Would that really be a wise gift if you expect to stay in the relationship with your special someone?

"Honey, I love you, and because I love you so much I must tell you that Brazilian bikini lines are really the way to go. Permanently. Ow, why are you punching me?!"

Seriously, I can only see it as insulting. You may say, "It's laser hair removal because I love you," but what I'd hear is, "You are a disgusting wookie of a person, please de-hair and check back with me later on when you're entirely hairless."

While that may be okay in some folks' relationships, for me it's not the best way to start off a romantic dinner, "Laser Hair Removal" is not the three-word phrase I'd like to hear on Valentine's Day.

And because I love lists, I'd like to have us make a list of other Really Bad Valentine's Day Gift Ideas. I'll start us off (in no particular order).

1. Laser hair removal.
2. Eddie Money's Greatest Hits CD
3. A case of Listerene.
4. Rabies.
5. A bag of hair.
6. The special extended version collector's edition of the movie "Vanilla Sky." (I'm still not forgiving Tom Cruise for that pile of crap)

Add your own!

Wasting Time

I have a nice selection of websites that I will use to waste time on here and there, so I thought I'd share.

First up, we have the refrigerator magnets website. This website is fun because tons of other people are messing with the fridge magnets at the same time, so go ahead -- try to spell something without getting all your letters stolen. This website is fun in many ways. One way is watching how many people all spell the same five or six dirty words. Another way is to be on the site the same time as a friend so you can work together to spell things. Like dirty words.

The next website is the paper toss game. Click through the first two pages there and then work with or against the wind from the fan to flick crumpled pieces of paper into the wastebasket. The longest streak I was able to attain was 14.

Most of you probably already know about Fark, but I thought I'd share it again anyway. It's a great clearinghouse of weird news from around the internets. Yes, I said internets.

Now we have Group Hug. This website is an online anonymous confession website. People go here and confess horrible, gross, silly, or funny things. Some of it may be not safe for work due to language used, but it's funny to see just what people admit when they are anonymous.

Ever want to know what a volcano is doing at any time of the day? Yes? Well check out the Mt. St. Helens Volcano Webcam. Don't worry, you won't catch it doing anything naughty, so it's completely safe for work. But sometimes it spews steam, and most of the time it's just nice scenery. And then other times, an insect will land on the camera lens and it looks like giant bugs are attacking the earth. Awesome.

And finally, for your self-improvement folks, why not learn a little more about home improvement? Home Depot and Lowe's have their home improvement workshop schedules up on their websites. If you're bored, why not learn about laminate floor tiling -- or maybe your closet needs reorganizing? I recently attended the ceramic floor tile workshop at my local Lowe's and learned quite a bit. Seriously.

Anywho, thought I'd share some of my favorite time wasting websites. Hope you all become addicted now as well.

Weather, Boobs, and Capitalization

Last night was class #2 of my most wonderful meteorology course. The professor is every bit the scattered mad scientist one might expect. His notes are very mixed up and he gets off on tangents that can last 10-20 minutes. That means he's not the clearest when it comes to explaining just how his weekly reading and weekly quizzes will be handled. So as I deciphered his cryptic syllabus, I determined that I should probably read four chapters of material for the second class.

Let's just say here that switching back into "School Studying" mode after being away from it for five years is not the easiest. I knew this class would not be cake, but still, getting through some of the book material was very challenging. At least it was interesting.

Anyway, I get to class last night with almost all the reading completed, and I'm cramming last minute before class began. I'm thinking that if I look at the station model examples and the different types of surface maps and emissivity details and radiation wavelengths again all last minute, somehow it will all stick in my head for this impending quiz.

This is where my new favorite classmate comes in. We'll call him Joe. Joe cannot be older than 18. He's the guy who last week discovered that he had the wrong book for the course. He also asks me repeatedly if he's supposed to be writing something down. But he's so friendly that there's no way I can't like him. He's too cute. It's obvious that he can't stand the class and he's only taking it because it's a requirement. He razzes me for having a degree, as if it means I'm the head of NASA and solve physics equations for fun in my spare time. He spends most of the class either text messaging someone, shifting the hat around on his head, or shifting himself around uncomfortably in his seat, like someone's chained him to a hotplate.

It's also now obvious that he thinks I'm a geek for taking the class for fun, and due to that, is now latching on to me in case some group work is necessary. During last week's group question-answering session, after receiving our group's question to ponder, he immediately turned to me with his cute 18-year-old slacker smile and said, "You're the one with the degree, you answer it."

Last night, during my last minute cramming, he leans over to me with his innocent smile and says, "Did you actually read anything for tonight?"

Did I actually read anything? Did I? I spent five hours Monday night reading and taking notes on each chapter. Then, I spent my Tuesday lunch hour at work reading more, and then I also spent the hour after work doing the same. I was shocked that it was obvious that he'd not read anything. What about the quiz, my young impressionable friend?

Yet not wanting to appear too nerdy (why is it that I need to feel "cool" around an 18-year-old?), I say, "Yeah, I did -- but I didn't finish." As if those last few words marked my rebellion against The Man and my having to take such a horrible class.

Joe laughed at me. As I continued to shove information about insolation and the inverse square rule into my head, Joe changed the subject.

"It sucks that we have to have class tonight."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because it's Mardi Gras. We should be out looking at boobies."

While I should have been shocked at some random young guy I hardly know telling me that I should be spending my now educational Tuesday evening out oogling boobies, I'm instead thinking, "every minute I love Joe more." Not a lot of people would be this open with someone they've known for about four hours now.

Joe continued. "I'm worried that I could go this entire Mardi Gras day without seeing any boobs, and now I'm stuck in class."

"That is a problem," I responded. "But you know, when we leave this class, you'll still have about an hour and a half of the technical Mardi Gras holiday to go see boobs."

"I know," he said, leaning back and flipping his hat around for 14th time in five minutes. Then he smiled big again.

"And I am going to a party later tonight, and there will be girls there, so I'm sure I'll see some boobs."

"That's the spirit, man," I said, laughing. Joe went back to text messaging and I went back to the boobs. I mean books, I went back to the books.

So, last night just proved even more that Joe will continue to be a source of entertainment in this class.

Moving on, Dr. Mad Scientist reveals later that the reading assignments really have nothing to do with his lectures. He also reveals that his quizzes will deal with what he talks about in class, and not necessarily all that book-learnin' we'll be doing.

Dr. Mad Scientist then moves into his lecture for the night, which is one of the most confusing things I've ever listened to. It proves that just because you have a Power Point show prepared, it doesn't have to make any sense whatsoever. I notice that in his Power Power slides, whenever the word "manual" is used, he typed it out as "MANual." It's funny because he never explains why, and I presume it's because he's referring to human-made predictions and observations, and not that he thinks only MEN are meteorologists.

Later, he reveals that if you get meteorologists together over a beer, they will admit that their predictions are usually not that correct.

He also gets off into long tangents about equations and other things that clearly confuse the class. At one point, a classmate asks a question about tornadoes and meso-cyclones that can easily be answered in three sentences (I am a nerd, yes I know), and he goes into a 20 minute scattered tangent about wind. At the end of the tangent, the class is obviously lost, and he says, "And so that's why there's a difference. Pretty easy."

I realize that as far as the basics of meteorology go, I will learn more from the book that from Dr. Mad Scientist.

What he does excel at though, and this is because of his job with the National Centers for Environmental Prediction, is discussing how forecasting models are created and run. That part is fascinating and I am anxious to see more.

I also can't wait to see what Joe talks about next week.

Photos

I decided that MSN sucks and have now switched my photos over to Yahoo! So, if you're bored today and would like to peruse some random photos from Heather's life (including improv comedy show photos, some friend photos and then just other random things), click here or click on Photos! in my links section to the right.

Also, as a homework update: I spent five hours on my homework last night and I'm still not done. Ah, school.

Sheesh, I leave you kids alone with the blog for a long weekend and you comment all over the place. That's fine with me. Go with it. Nothing like having friends and family discuss the irony of my blog name implying male naughty bits.

The blog name change will most likely go into effect later today.

Also, for the first time in almost five years, I will be spending this evening mired in homework. Maybe I'll spend some time testing the Coriolis Effect by winging water balloons at the kids who loudly sled behind our apartment.

Heather's First Day of School

As I mentioned some time ago, I am a bit of a college student again. I'm taking an Introduction to Meteorology course at the local community college, and last night was my first class.

It. was. awesome.

I meant to take my digital camera so that Amy could snap photos of me with my backpack on my way to class, but of course, I forgot in all my excitement.

The class only meets once each week, so Tuesdays from 7:30 to 10:20pm are now chock full of good nerdy weather material for me. Last night I decided to make a time diary logging how I felt and what I was doing during class. Enjoy.

7:15pm - Arrive nerdily early for class. Wander through campus with giant smile on my face, wanting to cheerily greet each student I see. I resist the urge.

7:18pm - I enter the classroom and see I am not the only one to arrive nerdily early. Two other students sit before me. Average age so far: maybe 19.

7:19pm - Remove exceptionally organized binder, paper, and pens from my backpack and copy down everything from the projected computer screen before me.

7:20pm - Holy crap on a stick, the professor works for NOAA. This class is going to be awesome.

7:22pm - Fellow female classmate opens mini-blinds in classroom so she can stare at her hair in the reflection.

7:23pm - Still no prof. I hope he doesn't let us out early, because I friggin' paid friggin' $400 for this class, dammit. More students are arriving. Average age update: 20.

7:25pm - Becoming more apparent that no one else is taking this class for fun.

7:26pm - 18-year-old sitting next to me stops texting on his cell phone long enough to ask me if he's supposed to be writing stuff down, too.

7:27pm - Same guy realizes he bought the wrong book for this class. I tell him I got mine off Ebay for remarkably cheap. He looks at me like the nerd I am.

7:31pm - Still no prof. Tick tock, tick tock, professor, I can hear my $400 wasting away. Average age update: 22.

7:32pm - Professor shows up, looking everything the disheveled nerdy meteorologist should look like. He's also wearing his NOAA pin, and he uses the word mitigate several times during the first several minutes. I am excited.

7:36pm - He tells us the college print shop screwed up and didn't deliver him any of the handouts he wanted copied, so he can't give us any handouts. Dammit! $400!

7:37pm - Attendance is taken. I contemplate answering to my name with a very nerdy, "Present!" but resist. One person in the class is a high school student.

7:40pm - He does work for NOAA, and more specifically, for this department. Awesome. Maybe I can become enough of a teacher's pet to earn a chance to see that office.

7:42pm - YES! He's planning a FIELD TRIP to the NOAA headquarters in March. I am about ready to run up front with pen in hand to sign up when he says he'll take sign-ups later. I write it down in huge letters on my notes: "Frickin' sign up for the field trip!"

7:50pm - He says because this is only an intro course and survey course, he won't be getting into math very much. I want to hug him.

8pm - He takes a moment to rip on TV meteorologists, saying they're not real meteorologists because they don't do all the schooling. I scoff, because I know what it takes to be a TV forecaster. And while he's right that it doesn't take the same intense study as just being a regular meteorologist, that does not mean it's an easy thing to do.

8:30pm - We go around the room and introduce ourselves. The best introduction is from a high school student who's taking the class. He says he hates high school and thinks it's dumb. I introduce myself as a nerd who's just taking this class for fun. Some in the class stare.

9pm - I start thinking up good nicknames for people in the class. There's Mr. Physics, Annoying Artist Girl, Punk Ass, Bored Mom, Zombie Guy, and Mall Queen.

9:50pm - The Professor is engaged in a deep explanation of basic physics and math, all while constantly saying, "I'm not going to be getting into math, but I have to explain this." And amazingly enough, I understand what he's explaining and find it fascinating.

10pm - I am the only person left in the class who is still paying attention. I'm pretty sure I'm only one who's been paying attention for the past 1/2-hour.

10:20pm - The bliss ends for the week. I skip out of the classroom and outside so Amy can pick me up. I *heart* school!

I can't wait to do my homework.

The blank to be filled in later

Wonderful readers, I have a question. Okay really, it's an admission. Today's a day of admissions for me, actually. I just admitted that I have a lower back tattoo to the folks over at Tara's blog. And honestly, I'm fine with it - both that admission and the fact that I have a tattoo there. I think as long as you enjoy your own tattoos, it's not really a big deal what everyone else may think.

Anyway, the admission of right now is that it wasn't until very recently that I discovered that the word "dork" has another, more vulgar definition.

I guess you could also say that it's a more scientific definition as well.

I chose it as the name of my blog because I considered "dork" to be an amusing form of self-deprecation for me. You know, just me being silly. Yet now, thanks to my lovely wife (who has also ruined numerous songs for me by deciphering what she thinks the lyrics really imply -- see "More than Words" by Extreme), all I can think about is the naughty meaning of it.

Am I a giant whale schlong? No. I don't think I've done anything that warrants me being called that. But, because I can't get past that -- and because I am now discovering that it's not just some strange coincidence that so many people google "whale dork" AND stumble upon my site (thanks so much, Nedstat) -- I am thinking of changing the name of my blog.

I can't use "tool" because my favorite brother told me he thinks it's graphically sexual. I've thought about "nerd" or "geek," but to me nerds and geeks are obsessed with computers. I know my share of info about computers, but I don't believe it's enough to gain me the title of nerd or geek.

So I ask you, faithful readers, should I change my name? And if I do, what should it be?

Help me decide if I should continue to be a site people stumble upon when trying to learn more about whale genitalia.

Travelin' gal

Sorry to leave you only with pukey eyed onion posts for a week there. I was traveling for work. And if you're keeping score with Heather's Rental Car Tests, then add this one: The Dodge Neon can take speed bumps at about 15-20mph. It also does great donuts.

This Thursday I'm off to Boston with my improv comedy troupe. We're performing in two shows up in ol' Beantown, one with this troupe, and one with the comedy troupe I used to be part of. Should be awesome, and I'm really excited.

Besides the actual shows themselves, there are other amusing things. First is that the six of us that are flying up there are all traveling on the same flight early Thursday. The second is that we're all sharing a hotel room. That's right, let the experience-gathering for our VH1 "Behind The Music" documentary begin. Although, I suppose it would actually be a "Behind the Comedy." Whatever.