nothing to say

Do you know why an airplane stays in the air? I do. Its because of Bernoulli's principle. The bottom of the wing is flat, so the air speed is slower under the wing, which means the pressure is greater under the wing than over. The top of the wing is curved, so air has to go around it, which makes it have to move faster, which means pressure is less. Thus, a lift force is created by the pressure under the wing pushing up. Bet you didn't know that.

Bet you also didn't want to. But I told you anyway, if only because its something I know, and something you should know too. Yes, even you.

The thing is, I haven't had much to say lately, and I haven't been passionate about anything trivial enough to post a blog about. Sitting in baby physics, however, has changed all that. I gained the inspiration to write this blog out of boredom of talking about the principles of gases. Then I decided to tell you all about Bernoulli's principle because, well, that's what we're learning about right now. Riveting. So I figured, hey, might as well write a blog where people can learn something. I think everyone should know a thing or two about Bernoulli anyway. I mean, come on, he has a principle named after him. Do you have a principle named after you? Didn't think so. I don't either, though its something i might aim for in life...we could call it Pat's Principle.

Bored yet?

Hey, Pirates of Penzance went well. Thats something I'm passionate about, but its not
un-important enough so I haven't written about it. I like singing and acting and piracy. I hope to do more of each of those things in the future, especially piracy. I hear there are some great pirates out in the sea these days. Maybe they will let me join. Hope so. Then we can sing and act.

Damnit. That hawk just landed in the window. I think he's after my computer again.

Nice outside.

apologies

Sorry I haven't posted in a while...some hawk stole my computer. He swooped down when I was walking home/checking my email (its this new multitasking thing I'm trying) and just grabbed the computer. Its ok now though. I heard some crazy rumors about the hawk, whose name turned out to be Bill Gorton, typing blogs on my account but I'm not willing to believe that. Hawks don't even have fingers.

the hawk's story

Didn't get too much done today. Hot outside. Caught a squirrel around 6:00. Ate it. Don't know how I know what time it was...don't have a watch. Can't even tell time. Anyway, squirrel was just bouncing along in his idiot squirrel way across a yard by the building where people come out with books all the time. Like to hang out around there...not too many people come around that building. Was flying at about 200 feet (again, don't ask how I know measures of distance, or how I know what a book is). Squirrel made it easy. Took him to a ledge. Warm and juicy. Guts are favorite part; so soft. Kind of tough, squirrel meat. Don't really like squirrels, but there are literally hundreds of them. People stare at me. Maybe I should go somewhere.

Think I'm molting.

docile and knows everything

Originally this post was going to be a savage attack on people who qualify their statements in discussions with things like "i'm not sure if this has anything to do with what we're talking about," or "i don't know if this makes any sense, but..." I recognize that I have fallen victim to this atrocity before and I have punished myself for it. However, after a brief talk with Doug I have decided that its not worth my passion. I still don't like it though. Come on people, just be brave and say it.

Instead I am going to talk about my cat, Chuck. Chuck is like a million years old (in people years). He's still verile as ever, but the thing I love about him most is he's so chill. I mean, he wants his food and he wants you to pet him, but other than that he's like "hey, whatever." I think if Chuck could talk he would know all the answers. I talk to him sometimes, and I think he knows what I mean and he helps me out. He's always there when I need him.
While he is a very chill and understanding feline, he is first and foremost a hunter. He kills. More than once we've found gifts from his excursions on the dining room floor, though that was more in his early years. These days he mostly prowls. Some months ago he got in a fight with a much younger neighborhood cat who had been intruding on Chuck's stomping ground. I saw it. Chuck was a little beat up after, but I never saw the other cat again. It probly died. If that hawk ever decided to come around Chuck's neighborhood, I wouldn't put money on the hawk.

So today I celebrate Chuck, a cat wiser and more docile than even the famous Geoffrey.
He's right next to my at this moment actually...he says "Meow"

two thoughts on the day

1. I hate things I can't do,figure out how to put links in this blog even though Kayla told me how and now I'm embarassed because Kayla can do it and I can't and Kayla doesn't know how to do anything (she'll admit that)

2. I saw a bird today. This wasn't just any bird. It was a hawk. A big-ass hawk flying in the sky. I thought about all the poets like Shelley who write about these birds like Skylarks who have these perfect and beautiful and peaceful lives and as the speakers sit and watch the bird they envy the life as they look back at the despair and chaos of this world. (The poem I am thinking of is To a Skylark by Percy Shelley, which is a poem that I really love, so I'm not trying to ruin it). But when I looked at that hawk the first thing I thought was how it was most likely looking for something to kill. How intense is that freakin hawk? He's a huge bird, who flies, looks down at the ground for little animals that I can barely see from my vantage point roughly six feet above the ground, and then he goes and grabs the animal, kills it, and eats it. Theres so much passion in a hawk.

The Introduction

I’m Patrick. That’s who I am. I’m the guy who doesn’t write golbs (blogs). As such, it is only proper for me to show you my identity in this, my first ever blog post. I’m Patrick. That’s who I am.
This semester, particularly in the last few weeks I’ve noticed my inclination toward conversation. For instance, if I get let out of Pirates rehearsal having hundred pages of reading and a lab assignment due in the morning, but Doug and I start talking about some ideas for a film we could make, I will invariably stick with the discussion, completely disregarding my “responsibility” to my work. I will have planned out my time perfectly, saying to myself, “Self, you will read American Lit. first, which will take half an hour, then you will do Physics homework, which will be easy and you can finish quickly. Then, you can go to bed and get a good nine hours of sleep before waking up for chapel.” Then I forget what I just told myself. Or maybe I remember, I just rationalize that I can push each step back an hour and still be alright.
I say this not to complain about how I need to be more disciplined and have better study skills, or to attack Doug for forcing me to express and discuss creative ideas in an open, and often hilarious, discussion. Rather, I say it to express the importance of my behavior. If I’m tired and about to head back to my apartment to get something to eat during my 45 minute break before rehearsal and I happen to catch Monica sitting at a table in SAC (happened today) and we start a conversation, you can be sure I will follow through with that to the end. Why? Because that’s what matters. When it comes down to it, if I have the choice between doing some homework and having a great interaction with one of my friends, homework will wait to be done. Irresponsible? Absolutely. So what.
So when you ask me who I am, I’m going to give you an answer that probably involves where I’m from, and something about my friends. I could say, “I’m Pat, I’m 20, I live in an apartment, I’m left handed, and I’m 20 (repeated on purpose),” but that won’t tell you who I am. You’re more likely to hear, “I’m Pat and I like writing things with Doug,” or, “I’m Pat and me and Kayla just went ice skating,” or, “I’m Pat and I love Lucas.” Why do I have conversations when I could be doing “better” things? Because that’s how I become a person; how I have an identity. You say I could be doing better things, but I’m already doing the best thing. How can an hour of lost sleep and a missed physics problem be more important than building a relationship? My advice, build the relationship.
Hey, I’m Patrick, and if you’re my friend you know who I am, because you’re part of who I am. If you’re not my friend, ask me to be. I’m Patrick. That’s who I am.