Me on a date: What's your favorite musical?
Them: Haha oh no, I don't like musical theatre.
Me, shoving breadsticks into my purse: It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
Marie Curie’s century-old notebooks are still radioactive, so they’re kept in lead-lined boxes for protection against radiation exposure.
Photo via: Wellcome Library, London
Anyone wishing to handle her notebooks, personal effects, or other items have to wear protective gear and sign a liability waiver, just in case. She basically walked around carrying radium and polonium in her pockets, so… yeah.
Photo via: Amanda Macias/Business Insider
Marie and her husband Pierre are buried in Paris’s Panthéon, a mausoleum in that contains the remains of distinguished French citizens — including philosophers Rousseau and Voltaire.
Source
A haiku about feeling addicted to my phone from 4/3/24
since the jwst is on everyone's minds right now, i want to take a second to remember voyager i, our little interstellar probe that could. it's out past the sun's reach now, traveling away from us at nearly 40,000 mph. and it carries with it the "golden record".
we knew when we sent it that it would eventually leave the solar system, and would someday -- many, many years in the future -- find another star or solar system. eventually. the laws of physics demand it.
and so we put a record of ourselves with it. just in case -- in the highly unlikely, but still possible, event that it happened upon a world with intelligent life that could understand it. our message in a bottle, cast out into the endless sea of space.
we recorded our voices, in many languages. we recorded the sounds of wild animals, of insects, of water rushing. we recorded brainwaves.
ann druyan's brainwaves, in fact. an hour of them, as she thought of all kinds of things.
she and carl sagan worked on this project together, and over the course of their work, they fell in love.
she took the time, during the recordings, to think of him, and how she felt about him.
so that love -- not just earth's existence, or its sounds, or human voices, but love -- would be sent out in our message, cast out into the ocean of space, in the distant hope that someday, somewhere, something would see it and hear us, and know us, and know how we feel.
even if voyager i never finds another life in the universe, even if the golden record is never played, i think it's important that we sent it anyway. what it says about us as a people, our hope and our optimism and our faith and our love -- we cast this all out into the stars.
"dare to cast thy bread upon the sea," indeed.
So I found this caterpillar on my way to class
We’re bros
I wrote this little poem based on a picture I took when I saw a cracked mirror on a Philly street in the rain. I then put the image though an ai art generator. I was so amazed at how beautifully it turned out, and so I wrote a short poem to go along with it.
Made my yearly book review blog post. If you are looking for any book recs, check it out!
i want to meet you,
my imaginary friend,
fictional partner
I think of him every day. <3
i wrote this poem in a car ride home from a music festival at the end of the summer. it one of those poems that i wrote because everything was so perfect in the moment and i had to write something down to capture the moment. :)