How to Parallel Park Your Helicopter

You know it will be an interesting afternoon when you walk out of orchestra to see your mother in the passenger seat with a big smile and a diagram of how to parallel park. Here the Sheila S. Cunningham School of Automotive Excellence brings you “How to Correctly Parallel Park Your Helicopter”.

Here we have your vehicle.

Drive along the road until you see an appropriate parking spot.  A spot is considered ”appropriate” if there is enough room to park in it, the cars on either side of it are the types of cars you would feel ok nudging a little, and there are no angry New Yorkers trying to get into it.

Pull up parallel to the banana car ahead of the space you wish to occupy. You should be 2-3 feet away from it.

Put the helicopter into reverse and turn your wheel all the way to the right. Slowly back into the space.

Eventually, you will get sort of where you need to be. Then you have to do the tricky part of repeatedly backing up and pulling forward so that you are straight in the space, all without denting the banana car or Thomas.

Ideally your helicopter will ultimately look like this.

Then you can get out and admire your perfection.

But first remember to put the helicopter in park.

As always, be aware of potential situations, such as crossing guards…

…large trucks…

…God forbid the police…

…large flocks of people in stupid clothing…

…and of course the ubiquitous hazard of forests full of fierce wild beasts.

Physics.

This is the one subject this year that I actually loathe.

For the first time EVER in my entire school history, I am getting a consistent B and working my butt off to maintain. NOT a good feeling.

I’m not sure why this is: I don’t know how I fail to grasp the concepts. Something goes wrong in the units and conversions (I converted a whole problem last week into m/sec, when it turns out it was supposed to be mph because it was a problem involving a BMW. Aughh.)

This is stuff you run into in real life, everyday situations…it should not be so difficult!

 

I need a tutor.

 

 

Actual conversation today:

Boyfriend: How’s physics?

Me: Awful. I don’t know why I can’t figure out how long it takes a car to brake.

Him: Easy…you got a ten-year warranty, ten years and four months or so.

I Rather Missed Blogging

Driving. BLAHHHH.

I would be perfectly happy and an excellent driver….if only there was no reverse, neutral, hills, highway, or curves.

Since there are, I really, really loathe driving.

I tend to use the word “stupid” a lot. My mother has bellowed the word “JEEEEZUS” twice. I have hit the garage door 3 times. I have pointed out to my parents that this is not as bad as their friend’s son, who drove over a TREE, approximately 18 times.

On the other hand, driving has brought out some interesting differences in my parents.

Dad tends to stiffen as a passenger, beginning with the garage (which I ONLY hit 3 times), and constantly give little tips, such as “track the curve!” or “stay to the left!”. His right foot is in a constant state of extension, and he taps (by which I mean “crushes”) it vigorously against the floorboards when I need to brake.

He also has this tendency to speak like a robot as soon as he gets into the passenger seat (true example: “Prepare to execute the lateral maneuver!”) and to warn me of all possible emergencies that could arise (true example: Notice the pedestrians!”) (Note to the true example: they were 3 blocks away).

True example #3:

Dad: Watch out for this truck up here!

Mom: Doug. It’s 200 yards away and on the other side of the road.

Mom, on the other hand, tends to remain silent (read: off in her own little world of knitting and books and singing) and only speak up when there are actual emergencies, such as I am about to hit a sign on the highway.  Until she gets a bee in her bonnet, and then I’m in trouble. She likes to invent little excercises, such as “Drive 20 miles per hour while telling me how to make a proper turn” or “take a mint while keeping your eyes on the road”.

I never anticipated that she would be the calmer parent in the passenger seat.

I once asked how she did it, and she said “valium”. Ha. Ha.

Ben and Sophie are forced to be my passengers, and spend most of their time cracking jokes.

Actual conversation from last week:

Mom: Look out your window and tell me if you see the lines.

Me: NOOOO! I’ll crash.

Mom: No you won’t honey, just look quickly.

Me: NO! Stupid lines.

Mom: DO. IT.

Me: (Looks. And immediately swerves to the left) STUPID DRIVING!

Mom: Oh Lordy. Did you see them?

Me: What?

Mom: The lines, sweetheart.

Me: Yes. Stupid lines.

Ben: Did you see them out the driver’s window or the passenger’s, Liv?

Olivia’s Chemistry Tales of Woe

This year in science I have chemistry. (Apologia!) I’ve been waiting for chem for years, but now that I’m doing it I find I like biology better. After finally mastering stochiometry last night, I had an experiment today. It was the basic third-grade experiment wherein you put vinegar and baking soda in a bottle with a balloon and the balloon (suprise suprise) blows up because you have caused a chemical reaction using carbon dioxide gas.

Except, being an advanced high-school chemist, I got to do several things differently than the third-graders. For one, I use the metric system. This is a mark of sophistication. Here in the science world we frequently brag about our grasp of the metric system to our younger siblings, which is sort of a laugh inasmuch as you only have to rely on one number to master the metric system. (Thirteen billion.) (That of course was a joke; the actual number is ten. We think. ) I also got to do the experiment multiple times, because our motto here in the science world is, more is better. AND, I got to mess around with variables. Also a very classy thing to do in high-school science.

Anyhow, I began the experiment. I assembled my equipment (read: stuff) , including bicarbonate of sodium (read: baking soda) and my various graduated cylinders (read: measuring cups). And I began the process.

Here are my notes, reproduced here in their entire, messy glory.

Section 1: Balloon blew up v. quickly

Measured wrong tho!

Balloon would not come off bottle, even. sprung leak and exploded w/ whistle.

Cir. of Balloon: 20 in.

Measured vinegar wrong too! Whoops! Accidentally used 350 mL instead of 250 mL. Ah well. C’est la vie. (that’s my French phrase for the week. Last week it was “Comme ci, comme ca.”)

Section 2: Measured right! Finally! Took FOREVER to fill balloon- used needle.

Balloon blew up v. big and exploded. Sprayed baking soda all over the place.

Cir. of balloon: n/a

Right after measuring out the baking soda on my (metric) scale, I poured it into the balloon when I realized that I had measured wrong. Mom laughed and told me that that was just the story of my life. She laughed even harder when I told her that I had thought that each tick mark represented 2 mg, when in fact each tick mark represented 5 mg.  When I determined that I had read the wrong side of the graduated cylinder and used way more vinegar than I was supposed to, she just rolled her eyes.

On the second section, I had to fill the balloon up again, only this time with three times as much baking soda excuse me, sodium bicarbonate. The funnel was way too small and it took a half an hour of vigorous poking at it with my mother’s embroidery needle to get all of it in there. When this section of the experiment finally got going, the balloon quickly swelled to twice the size of the other one, until it suddenly exploded, coating the room in baking soda and leaving a nasty smell.

And guess what? Tomorrow I have to do the stupid thing all over again, correctly, and write a report on it!

Olivia’s Amazing New Word For The Day….

are you ready?

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Here we go….

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It’s coming…

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walloon.

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*laughs hysterically*