RyanHarne.com

I woke up feeling throttled - as if Homer had his hands dangerously clutching my throat. The feeling still lingers. It’s unnerving.

Perhaps it was an omen for the Oscars. Perhaps it was an omen that Cars would actually lose “Best Animated Film” to a work whose title is a remarkable misnomer, considering many unsatisfied viewers, and their unsatisfied feet, left theaters playing that movie.

Perhaps it was an omen that An Inconvenient Truth would win “Best Documentary Feature”. (I only just now discovered that “omen” can refer to both good and evil; I was originally looking for another term for “forewarning” to replace this specific “omen” usage).

Perhaps the throttling feeling also suggested the inevitable pains I would endure in formatting a Microsoft Word document containing a plentitude of tables and images and how it would want to rigorously fight back against my formatting will.

Perhaps the throttling feeling would be akin to how stuffed I would become once I discovered that frozen waffles taste just as good as toasted waffles. As a warning to those who experiment with waffle preparation: use the microwave with care - too much freezer burn on a waffle results in waffle soup, a fine delicacy in northern Denmark but a disastrous east coast American mess.

Maybe I just need some more sleep.

Once in a while, the hectic collaboration of requirements, assignments, activities, and meetings causes so much commotion in my mind that a simple, written recollection of the recent unfolding of events is refreshing.

In an effort to prove to the world and, particularly, to my famous print graphics professor that I am truly a mastermind of design and engineering genius, I have nearly wasted $20 of paint, $5 of high-density paper, and about 8 hours of my time, which is surely more valuable than the previous $25 sum. My culminating effort was achieved by changing my scale by a factor of 1/2, thereby making my life so much easier and less paint-wasting. In 8 hours, we’ll see what kind of mastermind I truly am.

While considering where my train of thought went this morning, leaving me with a feeling that I had forgotten something of great importance, I realized that the heightened level of tension I am currently experiencing has left me with increased occurrences of tunnel vision and tunnel hearing. In all honesty, I am not too worried about this because said effects also manifest themselves on the opposite polar end, fantastical bliss and success. Though I could argue that the see-saw effect always concludes in the same manner, I understand that this could be a more emphatic push from the one end than the other is ready to volley. Again, we’ll see.

My latest assignment was to read several research papers regarding foundational information and discoveries related to my first research project. I feel this research bit is an informal initiation into a new world of university, one that most people forget or are completely oblivious to. I would be conservative in saying that 50% of Virginia Tech students don’t realize that undergraduates never touch most of the labs on campus, imagining the space to contain magic powers of creativity and productivity and efficiency and gold, chocolate-covered medals. I did, for a while; in fact, I have always pondered the incongruous short supply of water coolers or coffee pots within those frontiers.

A bed awaits me, as do covers and two, perpindicular pillows. I am refreshed.

There is a furniture design class lurking in the curriculum of the arch + design school. I may take it when I get an opportunity.

In the meanwhile and in my free time, I make a few lamps. Using mainly leftover material, I have been piecing together something resembling light-emitting devices suited for residential abodes or reading room cloisters. Currently, I am working on a series of three lamps, and I have learned to put up with all of the design bumps in the road inherent in incorporating recycled scrap.

Put simply, these photographs turned out terrible. I have not figured out how to photographically realize the gradient of light that the first lamp gives, varying from white to red. Instead, the camera sees white & red, misplacing all of the transition. Plus, the general colors of the entire environment are miserable; studio looks so drab in these shots. Perhaps I accidentally changed some color setting. Anyways.

So, photos #1 and #2. The red block nearby is the upcoming lamp, but I need to find a sand blaster for that glass cylinder. The black block is yet in infancy.

The photos make me sad but the white lamp, so far, is satisfying.

One of the requirements for RAs is taking part in the RA selection process for the next round of candidates. Only a few minutes ago, I returned from nearly 5 hours of verbalized probing into student’s minds. The 5 hours had some breaks, too; we’re not machines, you understand. Well, some are.

In my view, the candidates my RA-partner and I spoke to varied over the range of awesome. One sought to forge new ground in the frontiers of the unexceptional. A few walked the Fence Of OK. One was entirely intractable with our prompting, leaving no nonverbal cues for us to get a clearer view. Two were stellar, and quite honestly were already better RAs than some I know of; in a few weeks, they’ll certainly receive letters of acceptance.

The experience reenergized my enthusiasm for the role, if only in the formal sense. “Oh, this is why I had liked the job” - something like that. But, at this point, I am really looking forward to the house and next academic year.

In fact, today I set up at appointment to thrust me into next year, by next week! On Monday, I will sign some papers giving my soul to the Vibrations and Acoustics Laboratory (VAL), an agreement likely binding until computers become obsolete and chimpanzee brain power is effectively harnessed.

But, until Monday, I have a weekend of excitement and exhaustion awaiting my consideration.

While my recent viewing of An Inconvenient Truth has me immediately taking action to reduce my electricity consumption, Blacksburg currently has a complete absence of global warming effects. The past two weeks have been cold - unbearably bitter cold at times - in comparison to past winters, that is.

The wind chills have regularly hovered at 15˚F and some days push down bulbous thermometers to their most severe densities. All the while, I have been wanting a haircut.

I mentioned this to a friend and he replied telling me it wasn’t a good time to lose the protection. My acquiescence was silent but gave an exhausted sigh as notice. Since I typically get a haircut every 3 to 4 weeks, my current 6 or 7 week stretch was making bold moves. And, further, since I don’t have a hat to wear in the cold, my hair goes in every direction, namely the radial direction. This leaves me with the classic cut known only as the fro.

In an act of determined courage, greater than any current Congressional or Executive pull, I walked to have a hair cut yesterday, only to make it halfway and instead go to the library since it was so dreadfully cold. I felt ashamed, checked out a book on acoustic room treatment methods, and went to sulk in my incapacitation.

Today, after a test that I thoroughly ran circles around, my boldness returned and my attempt at the walk reconvened. And I made it. And I got a hair cut. And the return trip seemed colder than the original departure from campus.

I can tell that I am getting distracted by school items and necessities because my pace of writing gradually diminishes to the point where staggered phrases and sentences are all that I can gather from my thoughts. Interestingly enough, that phase of the textual data isn’t present in the text itself.

Anyways, I’ve been thinking about electromagnetic waves a lot, recently.

This is what you will now refer to as, a train wreck of thought. finis

Tonight, I asked myself what my New Year’s resolutions were. This casual scrutiny arising in the midst of dealing with a work order for a flooded bathroom and looking at flight availability to NYC. The question having the same spontaneity as that of a Big Bang, or of a wholly entertaining evening at the Academy Awards.

And? I remembered! Cycling and recycling. The latter of which I am doing a stellar job of since I made the fabulous discovery that everything is made out of plastic, including most domesticated animals, and no recycling center would object to the free profits back into their system - recycling dumpsters seem even less motivated to decry my efforts.

Recycling centers don’t work on profit either, that was totally untrue. Apologies for being misleading.

However, the prior resolution has been the victim of an unforgiving homicide. Granted, the weather has been in the 20s and 30s for many weeks now and I have little motivated to trek under those conditions as the brave souls do. But, I have both verbally and nonverbally committed myself to once again mounting the saddle once a 50 ºF breeze rolls through the Blacksburg valley.

Until then, I might get some rest and shut-eye.