To Infinity and Viscosity

There it is, take it, grasp it. There, right before you, that wish to which you've clung. Just a step away, all the things you've muttered under your breath, all the things of which you've been so bitterly jealous are just a hairsbreath away. Reach out, clutch it.

Oh, I can't wait until I graduate. All right, so what now? You're done. Yes, yes, I feel your ecstacy, I am you after all. But stop for a moment. Can't you take a glimpse back? Oh, hush. Yes, I'll miss some things, but what joy this is! Stop, would you? Calm yourself: it's really not that fantastic. Oh, shush. Yes, I like some of these people, but that's what the Internet is for.

I am far too happy about this. I'm still not sure at what point I will actually become sad and lament the loss of daily contact with certain people. But my week has been good, and I don't really have a reason to mourn it yet. I've been useful, I've helped some teachers  hand out caps and gowns. I've borrowed a math book from my (former) teacher--the first time I've ever actually read a math or science based book for fun, and I must say that I enjoyed it very much. I'm still a bit obsessed with toying with Mobius strips. . .

And now I've finally gotten a notification from Wegmans.

Now, a sane person probably wouldn't be ecstatic about the increased possibility of getting a job. A sane introvert would probably flee from the expected jump in social contact--even getting paid wouldn't be enough to calm that storm. But I am. After upwards of two years trying to get a job, finally hearing from someone is like someone mentioning that you're not entirely a worthless failure. (Plus, I really do need a source of income for the things that I've been hoping to get in the future.)

This week has been fairly close to infinite. Sure, there are rough patches and moments when everything seems to be going wrong, but it's been an over all good week. And tonight I'm going out to visit my sister, with whom I'll be going to the Corning Museum of Glass tomorrow. (Which reminds me, isn't glass funny? In eighth grade Earth Science we would test the hardness of a rock by attempting to scratch a plate of glass with it. Glass, we were told, was one of the hardest/strongest substances and thus became part of our scale. But if you drop a glass mug it shatters. And is it a solid or a liquid, really? Most would say solid. Most would ask me what the Percy Bysshe Shelley I'm going on about: why wouldn't glass be a solid? But it has no molecular structure, it's just a bunch of molecules in chaos, like ionized HCl in water. After a bunch of years, it will become evident that it has started to slide with gravity: a once uniform window will be thicker at the bottom than the top. So, what is it? A solid or an incredibly viscuous liquid? Hard, or fissiparous?)

Glass aside, infinite is a good word. So try it out for yourself: Cut out a strip of paper, give it a half-twist, and connect the ends. Try trailing along it with your finger. If you've done it correct, you now have a mobius strip, and it has no end. It has only one side and it is infinite.

Try it.