I Moustache you a Question, but I'll Shave it for Later

Never having been off the East Coast myself, I never really realized how different life is in other parts of the country; that is, until I met my sweet-as-apple-pie cousins from Arizona this past weekend. Though they were elated over the simplest things like leafy trees and squirrels throughout their visit, they were constantly vexed by people’s attitudes here. For example, when passing a person on the street in Arizona, it’s a given that you’d say “hello” or at least smile at them. However, most people here avoid mere eye contact with those that they pass, as if acknowledging another person’s existence is taboo.

A friendly smile? Say it ain't so!

People on the East Coast of the U.S., especially New Yorkers, have a reputation for being ruder than people of the rest of the nation, and sometimes that assumption ends up being true. My question: why?

"Ay, you! We gotta prahblem here?"

I usually witness at least one act of hostility among people in the city every time I go there, whether it’s locals giving me the stink eye or getting cursed out by strangers in the street for getting in their way. However, regardless of these physical hostile expressions, people can be just generally cold. Some think it’s because of the hustle and bustle of life here; people are in a rush, and they don’t have the time or energy to be friendly to strangers in the street. The greatest difference in the attitudes of people from the Western U.S. and the Eastern U.S. that I saw all weekend was my cousin’s mom rolling down her window while approaching the EZ Pass lanes and yelling out (sweetly) to the car next to us to “could you please let us in?”

Regardless of the fact that no one would actually let you in here if you asked (which we are living proof of), I thought it was cute that they thought the other driver would actually listen. That’s just not how it works here, though I don’t quite know why. The societal differences of this country never cease to amaze me.

The fact that they actually have buttons for this speaks volumes. VOLUMES.

Since my cousins thought that waiters here who didn’t make genuine conversation were rude, I told them it was good practice for their stay in NYC for the rest of the week. I’m hoping they’ll use some of their Southwestern shine on any city cynics they run into.

Turning 16? Get ready to flush your money down the toilet!

Having just turned 16 on Monday (woo woo!), a couple of people have asked me whether or not I’m going to have a big party; you know, with fire breathers, dancing waiters, eleven-course meals, all beginning with a grand entrance in my brand new convertible with a yellow python draped around my shoulders Britney-Spears-style. The works.

........................

Whether it’s because I’m not a big fan of the spotlight or because I’m a proud frugalista, I don’t see the purpose of the over-the-top Sweet Sixteen extravaganzas that are commonly seen on shows like My Super Sweet Sixteen. Why is sixteen such a special birthday worth spending thousands and thousands of dollars on? If you even want that big of a party, why not have it when you turn 18, when you’re actually considered an adult, or 21, when you can finally burn that fake I.D. and party instead of having a party?

yet again: .....................

My guess: there is no reason. Society always comes up with random things to pass the time, and I suppose as Hispanic girls traditionally have Quinceñeras, all other girls felt left out and emitted yells of revolt across the nation. Hence, the Sweet Sixteen was born!

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying that having a sweet sixteen party is bad. Just do it with class, ladies. And if you’re lucky enough to get a car (even though you won’t be able to drive it alone until your next birthday), don’t throw a huge tantrum like this girl did; you’re turning sixteen, Audrey, not six.

Come on, a brand new LEXUS?! Screw you, Mom, I'm the motha-truckin' princess!

Even though I’d never have a My-Super-Sweet-Sixteen-status meltdown, my idea of a Sweet Sixteen celebration isn’t a party; I’m spending the day with my beluga brethren at the aquarium to bond over our love of water and bulbous foreheads. My grandma thinks I’m going to get eaten, so hopefully WHALE meet again on Monday!

…here’s hoping my pun was perceivied.

I WISH THIS WAS ME </3

Yesterday was perhaps one of the most feared days of the year; the day that doesn’t make us say ‘T.G.I.F.’ and isn’t filled with the “fun fun fun fun” that Rebecca Black claims it to have. Whether you’re worrying about stepping on cracks (therefore breaking your mother’s back), dodging your pet cat, Midnight, or trying not to spill the salt at the dinner table, this day affects us all differently: Friday the 13th.

Mark your calenders, y'all!

I remember the first time I heard of Friday the 13th being on an episode of Fairly OddParents, and I freaked out when that anti-fairy jackhammered Timmy’s mom’s back (4:35 in the link- still disturbs me). After watching that I hopped over every crack I saw in the sidewalk, and every time I accidentally stepped on one I’d frantically look over to my mom to see if her spine was still intact. Whether Friday the 13th is only significant to you in childhood flashbacks like this one, reminds you of Jason, the camper/goalie gone bad, or actually has you looking over your shoulder for dark forces, I recently realized that I never thought about how the day became so revered and feared.

IT'S MAH DAY PLAYAS, GET AT MEH

Over the years many theories have been proposed about why Friday the thirteenth is an unlucky day, but the most prevalent one is that 13 was seen as an unlucky number, and Friday was considered an unlucky day. Stemming from Christian traditions, twelve was a number signifying completeness and goodness (as in the 12 apostles or the 12 tribes of Israel), and one number over that amount disrupted balance and signified evil. A superstition had arose about the number from the story of Jesus at the Last Supper, which stated that when thirteen people were seated at a table, one of them would die. The day Friday was also deemed bad because that was the day of Jesus’ crucifixion.

Even this chicken is superstitious.

There’s also a Norweigan mythology tale that explains the day’s origin through the banishment of Frigga, the free-spirited goddess of love and fertility, after the people of the region embraced Catholicism and dubbed her a witch. People believed that she met with eleven witches and the devil (a group of thirteen) to plot against those who rejected her and make the upcoming week hard for them all.

Things believed to bring bad luck upon people on this day include the usual acts of walking under ladders, making friends with black cats, and breaking mirrors, while some odder ones include letting milk boil over on the stove, whistling in the house, and putting your keys on a table.

This girl's asking for it.

It’s estimated that 17-21 million are affected by a fear of this day in the U.S. alone, and the official name for “fear of Friday the 13th” is paraskevidekatriaphobia, also known as friggatriskaidekaphobia. Quite honestly, the lengths of those names are more likely to scare me into paranoia rather than the day itself, but from now on I’m going to be taking these superstitions to heart; I’ve always been a dog person, anyway.

Literally LOL'ed... just sayin'.

The heat that came up from the pavement and rose to tickle the stage’s scaffolding made it hard to breathe in the crowd of hundreds, while the steady rain falling made it hard to see. Countless bodies were packed close together in anticipation for the performer to come out; once she did, all Hell broke loose.

As people began throwing themselves at one another, some bearded guy with no shirt on pushed me backwards, and I started falling downwards, soon to be trampled by the overzealous crowd. However, my sister saved me from that fate as we tried moving out of the crowd, leaving her at-the-time boyfriend there, who was evidently more concerned with getting the show on tape than with saving my life. To our dismay, we literally backed into two of these pits of death while trying to get out, trying to shield ourselves from the intoxicated bodies launching themselves at us.

And who was this artist that caused these people to thrash around as if they had lost their minds?

Demi Lovato. Demi. Freaking. Lovato.

Who knew a Disney pop princess could cause such destruction?

At Bamboozle of 2009 (also my first festival concert) I fell victim to moshing, which is basically when a bunch of people in a standing audience throw themselves at one another in the form of a circle, pit, or even “Wall of Death.” What I didn’t understand was that this was a DEMI LOVATO show (for the record: I am not a fan, my sister’s boyfriend was just insistent on going… what a keeper!), why were people moshing amidst a crowd of young girls and their mothers? Why does moshing even happen at all? Who thought, “hey, wouldn’t it be awesome if we just threw ourselves at each other like maniacal jumping beans and see what happens?”

This is bringing back Demi flashbacks.

Moshing started during the early 80′s in the D.C hardcore punk scene. A form of dancing that began as pogoing, which was just jumping up and down in one place in a completely packed crowd, evolved into slam dancing with the release of a song by Bad Brains. The lead singer used the word “mash” to encourage the crowd to start dancing, but he had a heavy Jamaican accent, so the crowd heard it as “mosh.” Thus the word was born!

There are various types of moshing to be observed, like the original slam dancing, circle pits, and my personal vexation: the Wall of Death. Why this even looks appealing I’ll never fathom, but if you’re willing to get down with the moshers, bring a helmet and some ice– you’re going to need them.

"Hey, do you wanna run into each other until our skulls crack?" "...Sounds like a plan!"

I’m going to a My Chemical Romance concert tomorrow, and my only concern is that I’m going to get trapped in a situation similar to my Demi Lovato experience. So, if I’m not in school on Monday, you will all know why. Pray for me!

The wind is howling like Taylor Lautner would be under the full moon, which is currently lost in the black, ominous abyss of sky outside. Rain is hitting the windows like a stream of continuously shot bullets, giving the house a heartbeat like a hummingbird (1200 beats per minute, to shed some light upon the situation at hand). A strike of lightning outside illuminates the pages of the book about the boy with the lightning-shaped scar on my lap (Harry Potter FTW) in a blue-white light, which also illuminates my startled self, freaked and irritated by the incessant thunder booms coming from outside. The street looks like a gargantuan treadmill as rain runs down it in one steady sheet, drowning my prospective plans into nonexistence.

…Lovely way to spend a Saturday night.

Just when I thought Mother Nature had stopped PMSing, a thunderstorm like something out of The Day After Tomorrow unfolds. Typical.

I'm too lazy to actually look outside to see what the streets look like, but I'm pretty sure they'd look like this... Yep, just like this.

After Googling some pictures of “thunderstorms” though, I realized something: every picture had lightning in it. I’d never really thought about that before, but as I have way too much time on my hands, I started wondering: do lightning and thunder always come together?

The answer is yes, and both thunder and lightning are interestingly connected to each other. Of the 1,800 thunderstorms that occur each day, the lightning and thunder in all of them actually occur simultaneously. Rain clouds are made of frozen raindrops bumping into each other, which creates an electrical charge; the bottom of the cloud is negatively charged and a “step leader” occurs, meaning that the negative charge becomes so powerful it can escape the cloud in the form of an electric current. It receives a positive charge on earth and travels back up with it, and BOOM– lightning is formed!

If you were too lazy to read that whole explanation or if it made as much sense to you as the Jersey Shore crew getting paid $30,000 an episode EACH for being their drunken selves (a.k.a. not much), this little picture is explanation enough.

Thunder is actually caused by lightning. The electric charge coming from the cloud creates a channel in the air, and once the light is gone the air collapses in the form of a sound wave, which is thunder itself. Though these actions happen at the same time, light travels much faster than sound, so lightning is always seen before thunder.

Just setting the city on fire, nbd.

I remember reading this book Thunder Cake in the first grade where this girl’s grandma told her to count the seconds between seeing the lightning and hearing the thunder, and the seconds between them would determine how many miles away the storm was. As it turns out, that little girl was a scaredy-cat and her grandma distracted her by making her run around their farm looking for ingredients to make this sketchy ‘thunder cake’ and told her they had to bake the cake before the storm hit so they wouldn’t get struck by lightning.

Well, regardless of whether or not the girl’s babushka was off her rocker, cake would serve as a fabulous distraction to the tragic storm going on outside…

To the oven!

"Hmm... bake a cake or let my farm get wiped out by a vicious storm on the horizon? Decisions, decisions."

P.S. For those who haven’t seen Sweet Home Alabama, watch this clip right now. To those who have seen it, I also wanted to know: can lightning really make glass when it strikes the sand? The answer to that is also yes; when silica, the main component of sand, is heated to extremely high temperatures glass is formed. Seeing as the lightning is about 54,000 degrees Fahrenheit, that’s definitely possible, not to mention that their little first kiss probably added to the spark!

Whether you’re a classical connoisseur or a ferocious fist-pumper, we all have our favorite types of music to jam out to. While I personally enjoy mine by singing and dancing around the house until I accidentally punch the fridge and feel like an idiot, we all have our own ways to express our like for certain songs– and our dislikes as well. Not a day goes by when I don’t hear my sister condemning her friend’s 90′s guilty pleasures CD to Hell (hi, Hope!) or observe girls having cat fights over whether or not Justin Bieber has musical talent. Or is a girl. (I kid, I kid!)

Most of us develop these affinities to certain music from very young ages, and I’ve recently been seeing countless videos of babies reacting to music. This one (be still my heart) rejects Miley Cyrus and embraces Bon Jovi, this one loves Florence + The Machine as much as I love his dance moves and outfit, and this one is a baby beast calmed by the power of reggae (excuse the comments about weed and Jesus). Then, there are also all those pregnant mamas who put headphones on their bellies so the baby can listen to Mozart or whatever other classical composer that will evidently make the tiny tot smarter. Now I’m more curious than ever to know: why do certain types of music affect babies differently?

I'm sure the baby appreciates being forced to listen to Beethoven as much as I would.

Many researchers believe that exposing babies to music will enhance certain types of thinking in their brains. Classical music is believed to affect spacial thinking skills, which are used to solve things like jigsaw puzzles. Listening to music doesn’t necessarily make the child smarter, but it does stimulates their brain cells.

As one would notice especially in the reggae baby video, music can be an extreme aid in calming babies down. Pop music can apparently soothe babies into slumber efficiently, though I’m not sure how quickly I’d fall asleep listening to Kesha… Oh excuse me, Ke-dollar-sign-HA.

Ooh look, a hipster mom! At least we know that baby isn't rocking out to Ke$ha-- too mainstream.

…Now that I’m back from threading my musical opinions into this blog post,  it’s really the instruments and beat in music that affects babies differently; also, different baby= different taste in music, though they generally react well to songs with good beats. Whether they enjoy bopping to Michael Jackson or cruisin’ to Katy Perry, all different babies respond to all kinds of music in different ways. So listen up, parents! Having trouble coaxing your baby to sleep? Flip though some radio stations and just wait to see which one chills them out. Then you’ll be free to get some sleep of your own.

This was taken two seconds before little Timmy toppled over. Word to the wise: DON'T give your babies headphones that are bigger than their heads.

All families have issues to deal with, and most are very diligent about keeping their personal matters secret. Some go to extreme lengths to do so, but two sprightly siblings have pushed the envelope by creating a new language in order to keep their private matters under-wraps.

You’ve been unfortunately deprived and probably living under  rock somewhere if you haven’t heard about this video, which showcases  Sam and Wren, two adorable twin baby boys, apparently having an in-depth conversation with one another. What the two are talking about is anyone’s guess (though people like Ellen and Conan O’Brien have tried their hand at guessing), but they really appear to be understanding and responding to what the other says. So I, along with the rest of the world, am wondering: can these babies really understand each other?

TALK TO THE HAND BROTHA

Studies show that about 40% of twins develop something called idioglossia, which is basically their own dialect that they solely understand and use to communicate with each other. It’s true that twins can be more sensitive to the emotions of their counterpart and sometimes develop a kind of langauge to talk to each other with, but most experts agree that it’s more of a series of syllables and tone inflexions that twins use when speaking to each other.

Despite the love I have for these Anne Geddes baby pictures, I feel like these twins will end up having serious identity crises.

While attempting actual speech, identical twins like these often imitate sounds they’ve heard before, often incorrectly, and it ends up turning into their own kind of language. However, this sort of “twin talk” can apparently hinder the twins’ ability to develop speaking skills later in life.

Personally, I think these babies will end up talking just fine, probably about how their parents embarrassed them by exposing their twin talk to the world. Actually, for all we know, they could be talking about that now!

Thank you, Edublogs, for allowing this baby gif to move!

There I was in math class the period before locker break (my personal form of torture), taking yet another test that I a.) couldn’t care less about and b.) would probably not do well on, anyway.  As I sat there, trying to recall how to graph the inverses of logarithmic functions (?!?), I daydreamed of the snack I could finally have once the locker break ‘beeeeep‘ sounded. The room was silent as I fantasized about the locker break cookies I could be having, of course only after they announced half the students’ names in the school over the loudspeaker. Suddenly, my mental fantasies were shattered by a piercing noise that caused everyone in the class to stop hovering over their calculators and instead attempt to shoot laser beams from their stressed, blood-vessely eyes at me for breaking their concentration.

What was this noise, you may wonder? My roaring stomach.

"I WANT LOCKER BREAK COOKIES NOOOOOOW!" ...he really needs to learn to shut up.

This has happened to me on multiple occasions, and I’m sure many other people have fallen victim to the Hungarian dragons screaming of starvation from our stomachs. The hunger beast always seem to be awakened when in a room that’s totally quiet, and it always proves to be one of the most awkward things ever. All the coaxing in the world can’t get my growling stomach to shut up, and I’ve began to wonder: what makes a stomach growl?

That probably sounds like a really dumb question, since the obvious answer would seem to be “because you’re hungry… DUH.” I guess my question really is, why is it so uncontrollable?

If your stomach’s growling as loud as this little lion’s is (the link is worth the click; gotta love those ’90′s commercials!), it’s because a part of your brain called the hypothalamus sends a message to your stomach and intestines that says “FEED ME!” This makes your stomach muscles and digestive acids contract, causing the dreaded grumbling noises.

I just couldn't type "FEED ME!" without thinking of Little Shop of Horrors... In this case, heeding the beast's hungry cries was not a good call.

As for why you can’t control it, the stomach is a smooth involuntary muscle, meaning it works without you consciously telling it to. A good example of an involuntary muscle is your heart, with continuously pumps blood to the rest of your body; can you tell your heart to stop pumping? No, which is a good thing because that’s what keeps you alive (hooray for the heart!). Think of the stomach as the heart of your upper abdomen, tirelessly working to embarrass you in front of a quiet classroom of your peers.

To stop the naggiest of all body parts from bothering you at school, the most important thing you can do is eat breakfast in order to avoid midmorning crashes and embarrassment. My personal suggestion: Strawberry Mini Wheats. You’ll be glad you did.

NOM

Wrathful.

Enraged.

Infuriated.

Those words (along with furious, distraught, and any other synonyms for the word ‘mad’) describe how angry I was when I missed seeing the lunar eclipse that happened last December. Despite my efforts to stay up until the wee hours of the morning, and regardless of all the alarms I set on my phone to rouse myself at around three a.m., I missed it and had to endure all of the  ”OMG AWSUM ECLIPSE!!!!111ONEONEONE” Facebook statuses that littered the Internet the next day.

SO MAD THAT I MISSED THIS.

However, I will NOT miss the next lunar sensation happening this year, which will actually be taking place in a couple of hours: the appearance of supermoon.

When I first heard people talking about how the moon is going to be huge tonight, and when I heard people actually dubbing it “supermoon,” I became curious. Why is it going to be so big? What’s the big deal about the moon being bigger than normal? What’s so super about it?

Tonight’s full moon is going to be the biggest of all in the year of 2011 because the moon’s orbit is an ellipses, not a perfect circle, so one side of its orbit is about 31,000 miles closer to earth than the other one.

The point at  which the moon is closest to earth its called its perigee (opposite the farthest point on the moon’s orbit from the earth, called its apogee), and this month the moon’s perigee will bring it about 8% closer to the earth’s center, making it look larger than it usually does.

Some are upgrading this supermoon’s star status by calling it the extreme supermoon because this perigee is even closer than the acme points of most other lunar orbits in the galaxy. Experts say that the moon can be viewed at it’s biggest state between seven and eight o’clock when viewed against the eastern horizon, appearing even bigger when viewed through or against trees or buildings.

Many people speculate that the closeness of the moon to the earth affects the earth in a negative way, causing natural disasters like the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. However, this is not the case, as the only affect the moon’s close proximity to the earth will have is on the ocean, as “perigean” tides will be higher than usual.

I’m now off to see if I can find the big moon, hoping that no cows are harmed in their efforts of jumping over it. Astronomer out!

Looks like Bruce is at it again!

UPDATE: FOUND SUPERMOON!

Documenting the greatness that is supermoon; only another 18 years until we meet again (;

Every day after school, when I fortunately don’t have to stay after, my plaid-clad self boards the bus and pulls out her iPod, playing all the easy listening music she can find to aid in winding down from another stressful day at school. However, her peaceful state of mind is always disrupted after the bus passes a certain landmark on its daily route, one that never fails to create a frustrating string of questions in her head that no Jack Johnson or Jason Mraz song could soothe. I am, of course, talking about the town water tower.

I don’t know why this bothers me so much, but every time I look at my town’s water tower it makes me angry and confused. Is there actually water up there? How much? How could anyone possibly get water up there? If we needed the water, how would we get it down from there, anyway?

Apparently, water towers are important enough to have a whole website dedicated to them with a bunch of trippy pictures of water towers in America; you can even find the water tower nearest to you for your next family vacation!

…As enticing as that sounds,  I’d still like to have my questions about them answered before I trek out on a cross country road trip to see some.

I found out that water towers are actually connected to the ground through a pipe (that I evidently never noticed after staring at one every day when coming home from school). About a day’s worth of water is stored in one in case of a water shortage, at which time the pipe of the water tower would supply water to parched, un-showered civilians. Never experienced a water shortage? That’s because of these cool cats.

Oops, I meant these cool cats. Stay cool, water towers, stay cool.

I wonder what space water tastes like...

The water of the elite!

I wish we had Snapple towers.

It's impossible for me to think of water towers and not think of That 70's Show. I guess when you live in Wisconsin, there's not much else to do besides this.