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402 days. 402 (plus or minus… mostly minus) posts.

Month: March, 2013

Day 116: Pretty Planet

I’ve shared Chris Hadfield’s photos before, and I’m sharing a few others today. On this bitter 5ºF morning in the Midwest, it’s been lovely to put on a warm sweater, clasp my hands around a cup of tea and consider the awesomeness of Earth.

Hadfield is a Canadian astronaut orbiting the Earth relatively lowly on the International Space Station. If you follow him on Twitter, you can see almost daily pictures of our beautiful planet from the sky.

Here’s an image of visible fault lines in South Africa:

South Africa fault lines

And here is the Mexican Colima volcano, smoking gracefully:

Mexican Colima volcano

And of course, our gorgeous moon:

BFrRz9VCAAA2yrN.jpg-large

All photos by Chris Hadfield.

Day 115: Advice for Dudes

Okay, guys. If you have an online dating profile, I have some advice for you.

Since I can only write this from my own perspective, not all of my advice may apply to you. But I’ll try to keep most of it universally applicable.

The Advice

Do ask someone to proofread your profile.

Do not mix up “you’re” and “your” or spell “intelligent” wrong.

Do include pictures of you smiling. Everybody likes a smile.

Do not include close up photos of your mustache. A surprisingly large number of you do this, and it’s actually really hard to tell you apart. Plus, I’m pretty sure mustaches were meant to be viewed in their entirety and not as individual hairs (ew).

Do let your personality come through on your profile, whether you’re goofy, serious, shy, etc.

Do not write generic phrases that could end up on every other person’s profile. Saying that you “work hard to play hard” doesn’t mean much without the context of the actual work or play. Also, what?

Do include pictures of you with your pets, kids, guitars, drums, siblings, rollerblades, friends, etc.

Do not include pictures of you with dead animals.

Do send messages to people you’re interested in meeting. Include a question or reference to their profile to let them know you aren’t spamming everyone on the Internet with, “Let’s talk. Meet me at Perkins.”

Do not berate the person you’re interested in meeting if they don’t write you back right away (or at all). Yelling/writing, “YOU’RE LOSS!” is not a successful way to get dates. (Also, see above.)

Do write about the things you like about yourself. Are you really good at making people feel comfortable (or uncomfortable)? Are you a rockin’ math tutor? Do you always win Jenga? Put it in your profile.

Do not refer to yourself as the most attractive, hilarious, well-groomed, smart, fit and humble person you know.

Do include your actual height.

Do not include someone else’s taller height. Your date will figure it out within the first half-second of meeting you.

Do include some information about the kind of person you’d like to meet. If it’s important that your partner enjoy running two-hour marathons with you, it’s worth a mention.

Do not paint yourself into a corner by being too specific about your ideal partner. You might be surprised to find out who clicks with you, and if you require too many traits, you’ll alienate some people you might really like.

In closing, do feel free to ignore any and all of this. (Except the mustache thing.)

Happy dating!

Day 114: Time is A Stinker

Time is both our great protector and our worst nemesis. It heals and moves us when nothing else will do.

Over a month ago, I naively blogged about how spring was nearly upon us in the Midwest. The four weeks between then and now have flown by and somehow gone excruciatingly slow.

I live where I do because I love the people, the arts and the drama of the seasons. Summer is easygoing and muggy, fall is crisp and colorful, winter is long and horrendous, and spring smells like pure happiness.

But our collective patience is wearing thin and the ever-nice locals are getting noticeably edgy. Snowstorms are usually followed by amiable shrugs, reaches for shovels and boots, and drawls of, “Ya know, it sure looks pretty.” This morning’s snowstorm was barely acknowledged, aside from a slightly crazed look behind my favorite barista’s eyes and a half-baked warning to take it easy on the roads.

And I get it. I feel it, too. I ran an errand after work today and when I got back to my car, it looked like this:

dirty car

I laughed and took a picture, because it seemed so sad and dirty. Two minutes later, I tried laughing again but I cried instead. My dirty door was iced shut, and I somehow managed to clean the entire side of it with my body as I flailed to the ground trying to get in.

So, my dear time. I honor and love you. I will continue to be patient with you as I take a hot bath and ice my elbows. But just know that we’re all counting on you to do your bidding. Heal the season and please give us a new one soon.

Day 113: Feynman’s Father

Two very good friends of mine became parents today. They are wonderful, intelligent and curious people, and I can only imagine their inquisitiveness will emerge in their daughter as well. I’m excited to watch her learn and grow.

Richard Feynman (1918—1988) was a theoretical physicist and Nobel Prize winner who introduced the concept of nanotechnoloy to the world in 1959. He was a brilliant and innovative man who, by all accounts, was delighted (tickled, really) with beauty and mystery of the world.

I don’t remember how I stumbled onto this footage of Feynman describing his relationship with his father, but it’s incredibly telling. Feynman describes a man who taught his son how to think critically, relate concepts to reality and seek deep understanding over base memorization. Although the video starts a little slowly, it’s a great six-minute watch.

“He knew the difference between knowing the name of something and knowing something, which I learned very early … So, that’s the way I was educated by my father, with those kind of examples and discussions. With no pressure, just lovely, interesting discussion.” – Richard Feynman

Day 112: Don’t Let Them Tame You

I took a master dance class today with a four-year-old.

The class was given by a New York-based choreographer in town for a show. Most of the students were professional dancers, including the the four-year-old’s mother. While she took the class, he found his own space on the dance floor and rolled, stretched, pushed, swung, scooped and reached with all of us. It was wonderful.

So this is in honor of our small guest today:

” You were once wild here. Don’t let them tame you.”
Isadora Duncan

Where the WIld Things Are

Image from Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak