When Math Geeks Move

There were several stressful points along our move and again, more stylistic differences. This one exemplified that whole “apple-doesn’t-fall-far” theory:

“If we make this the plane and this the hypotenuse then we only need to rotate it on the axis 180 degrees to get it in the door, see?”

“But the isosceles triangle will only work if the side is 8 feet and we have 7 feet 8 inches instead.” Both father and son pull their handy dandy tape measurers off the belts to check.

“Right, but that’s why we’re flipping it 180 degrees not the 150.”

I, myself, would have just shoved the couch through the door. See? Stylistic differences.

This morning J held math class 101 for N=1 (just me as the student). We were trying to hang the mirror. I actually employed the Pythagorean theorem to figure out the length of one side of a triangle for the exact length the piano wire needed to be cut. You know that whole, A squared + B squared = C squared? Turns out, my 8^th grade teacher was incorrect when she stated I’d never have to use this in real life. Again, this would have not been my method. I would have just strung up my mirror, prayed to the Gods to keep it suspended, and called it good.

J never knew that my artistic hanging of three hooks to hang his wool caps wasn’t done with math. It was actually done while he was on call and I had have several glasses of wine. He praised my abilities the next day when he came home and liked the outcome mixing the masculine English driving caps with my feminine Anthropologie wrought iron hooks in a nice “equidistant” triangle. Um, ok. Again, I think I was groovin’ to some 80’s tunes and using hardware to the best of my tipsy ability that December night.

Now, I too have some anal qualities that drive him nuts. For example: I alphabetize our spice cabinet and CD collection so I can find what I want in a timely manner. I also do this according to genre and/or types of spice. You would never find the garlic powder next to the fennel seeds. Oh no! That would be an atrocity. Those faux powders, lemon pepper, and other flavored salts/seasonings would never be found next to the tried and true dried leaf variety. Blasphemy, I tell you! Again, with that apple-falling-far theory, I can go back generations and actually attribute this quality to my mother’s mom, Ginny.

You would also never find Tori Amos in the same alphabetizing system as LL Cool J. I can’t see angry white female next to a black man who prides himself on seducing women…perhaps that is just my issue because I was that stupid angry white girl who was seduced by a womanizing black guy. Ok, well, perhaps I should be finding a good therapist instead of organizing my CD collection…note to self.

Another odd quality I have is the color-coding of my pillows when I’m making the bed. We have several types of pillows and it is important that they are in the corresponding pillow case cover that matches our preference and way their fluffiness standard goes when I’m making the bed. You can’t have a mushed up flat (although well loved) pillow at the back of the pillow stacking…it needs to be in the front of the line against a more firm background. Also, our two favorite pillows that we sleep on need to match in case cover as well. J remarked last night that he is never making the bed again in fear that he would do it wrong according to my standards.

As I’m finishing this entry, J’s expert arranging of piano wire and molly bolts culminated into, “Well, even though I used math to get this done, I completely forgot about physics. Oh well, let’s see what this does.” I suppose this quote is equivalent to me just shoving the couch through the door.