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Friday, July 04, 2003

DOES ANYONE KNOW

what waxing and waning gibbous means?

Don't feel compelled to answer. I'm sort of enjoying not knowing.

-m




SO..

I know I haven't posted much lately. Certainly nothing of any value.

Mainly it is the result of the fact that I'm waiting for a bunch of stuff to happen for my thesis work, so I don't have alot to do right now. It usually works that way - I get pretty creative when I'm overly busy. It's like that song by Maggie Simpson, that none of you know. When I'm not just running around like a crazy guy trying to get stuff done, I get sluggish, and can't make myself blog. I think I'm storing up energy for the school year, when I sleep 2-3 hours/night.

Oh well.

The open mic night the other night was not as good as the last time, but also better. Well. Let me explain - the poets were better, but the big ugly cowboy guy did the same 4 lame covers he did the time before, except this time with 2 guys on lead electric guitar, one of whom severely needed a punch in the crotch, the other of which had stupid hair, the Steve-Buschemi-lookalike played, as did some new people who were awfully good (a guy on dobro, etc).

Yeah. I don't have anything of any value to say. Again.

Uh. I like beer.

-m




Wednesday, July 02, 2003

I CAN'T WAIT..

This rules.

-m




Abbieht e ccat

OK, no offense to Rawkstah, Blacklinefish, Salad Bar, Dave Barry, or even Dr. Spencer, but this is by far my new favorite blog.

Except for mine.

A letter to the rest of the world...

-m




Monday, June 30, 2003

BRIEFLY..

So..A brief description and raison d'etre for lake coring..

Coring lakes involves carrying LOTS AND LOTS of REALLY REALLY REALLY HEAVY STUFF over long distances, and then placing it all on a TINY PLATFORM out in the middle of a LAKE, trusting two TINY RUBBER BOATS to keep you afloat. Then all the REALLY REALLY HEAVY EQUIPMENT has to get lowered down the the bottom of the lake (approx. 70 ft). Then, some stuff happens. Then, all the REALLY REALLY HEAVY EQUIPMENT has to come back up again. And you poop out a 1 meter long cylinder of lake-bottom mud into PVC. Then, you do it again, but deeper. And again. And again. FOREVER. And it's also important that it is 90 degrees and that the sun is beating down on you ALL DAY LONG EVERY DAY because you're out on a little piece of plywood WHERE THERE IS NO SHADE WHATSOEVER AND THE MOSQUITOES ARE BITING YOUR EYEBALLS AND THE FLIES AND EVEN DRAGONFLIES ARE BITING YOU IN UNMENTIONABLE PLACES. Then, when you have gone to sufficient depth, you move and do it OVER AGAIN. And AGAIN. FOREVER.

Also, there were no motors allowed on these lakes, so we had to row everywhere. FOREVER.

(Did I mention I didn't get paid for this? I did, however, get free room and board, which Melville says is all a guy can expect - except that I think he also said something about making enough to pay for the clothes you wear out as well, and I did pretty much ruin a pretty good pair of trousers. Permanently smeared with invertebrate egg thingies..)

Anyway, later, people look at the mud. And find old pine needles and pollen and stuff. From up to 10,000 years ago. And they say stuff about what plants where where at what time.

So..Michigan was OK. Some of the last virgin forest anywhere in the U.S. where we were. Don't think I'll be anxious to core lakes again anytime soon.

-m





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