#carmillakstn

[italiancreampuff]

So gay.

[seafleece]

top 5 times ya wanted to say something snappy but held back because it was too out

my d u d e my entire life is just trying not to say the gayest thing possible 1- when my fragile republican grandparents annually ask me about boys2- any time someone says the word straight 3- any time someone says the word closet4- trying not to respond to the bottom thing, it’s happened so many times it’s kind of ridiculous5- before I left my church you can’t even fathom the number of times I almost came out, blaze-of-glory style, and just walked outBonus: jones was talking about intervals in orchestra the other day and said the words “oral calisthenics” at least six times and I was actually dying in my chair

[orngepeel]

carmillakstn replied to your photo: been a while!!! feat. my new fav sweater…. its so...

excellent

:D

[seafleece]

smol cello badass; killer writer

Nice job w/ the anon partBut THANK!!!! Bless your tall heart

[morningmightcomebyaccident]

ice cream scoop. everyone needs a damn good one. my favorite is zyliss.

*googles*

That is a heavy duty ice cream scoop!

My sis actually has an ice cream maker, but I don’t know the last time she used it.

[ukulelekatie]

omg, your tags on the fried maple leaf post. hell yeah.

#young man there are leaves all around i said #young man deep fry leaves from the ground

[asleepinawell]

carmillakstn replied to your photo “shadow selfie”

ooh, I've always wanted to go to Mammoth Lakes.

would highly recommend. i’m only here for a long weekend and we’re taking it easy but there’s so much to see in this area even without going up into Yosemite. i think we’re a week or two too early for real fall colors, but we didn’t want to risk even a tiny chance of getting snowed in. i do not want to go back to work.

[morningmightcomebyaccident]

really, there's not a whole lot you can do with the potential earthquake aside from carry on as usual, but some things that might help are having water on hand at home/ wherever you go, and carrying like, snack bars. also, a go bag of clothes and knowing where important documents like your passport etc. are. (this is what i get for being right on the san andreas fault, lmao)

basically: logic now, because once it happens people aren't going to be as such.

Very sound advice. We are, thankfully, several days out from this warning.

Also, for those interested, a good read: The Really Big One.

Most people in the United States know just one fault line by name: the San Andreas, which runs nearly the length of California and is perpetually rumored to be on the verge of unleashing “the big one.” That rumor is misleading, no matter what the San Andreas ever does. Every fault line has an upper limit to its potency, determined by its length and width, and by how far it can slip. For the San Andreas, one of the most extensively studied and best understood fault lines in the world, that upper limit is roughly an 8.2—a powerful earthquake, but, because the Richter scale is logarithmic, only six per cent as strong as the 2011 event in Japan.

Just north of the San Andreas, however, lies another fault line. Known as the Cascadia subduction zone, it runs for seven hundred miles off the coast of the Pacific Northwest, beginning near Cape Mendocino, California, continuing along Oregon and Washington, and terminating around Vancouver Island, Canada. The “Cascadia” part of its name comes from the Cascade Range, a chain of volcanic mountains that follow the same course a hundred or so miles inland. The “subduction zone” part refers to a region of the planet where one tectonic plate is sliding underneath (subducting) another. Tectonic plates are those slabs of mantle and crust that, in their epochs-long drift, rearrange the earth’s continents and oceans. Most of the time, their movement is slow, harmless, and all but undetectable. Occasionally, at the borders where they meet, it is not.

Take your hands and hold them palms down, middle fingertips touching. Your right hand represents the North American tectonic plate, which bears on its back, among other things, our entire continent, from One World Trade Center to the Space Needle, in Seattle. Your left hand represents an oceanic plate called Juan de Fuca, ninety thousand square miles in size. The place where they meet is the Cascadia subduction zone. Now slide your left hand under your right one. That is what the Juan de Fuca plate is doing: slipping steadily beneath North America. When you try it, your right hand will slide up your left arm, as if you were pushing up your sleeve. That is what North America is not doing. It is stuck, wedged tight against the surface of the other plate.

Without moving your hands, curl your right knuckles up, so that they point toward the ceiling. Under pressure from Juan de Fuca, the stuck edge of North America is bulging upward and compressing eastward, at the rate of, respectively, three to four millimetres and thirty to forty millimetres a year. It can do so for quite some time, because, as continent stuff goes, it is young, made of rock that is still relatively elastic. (Rocks, like us, get stiffer as they age.) But it cannot do so indefinitely. There is a backstop—the craton, that ancient unbudgeable mass at the center of the continent—and, sooner or later, North America will rebound like a spring. If, on that occasion, only the southern part of the Cascadia subduction zone gives way—your first two fingers, say—the magnitude of the resulting quake will be somewhere between 8.0 and 8.6. That’s the big one. If the entire zone gives way at once, an event that seismologists call a full-margin rupture, the magnitude will be somewhere between 8.7 and 9.2. That’s the very big one.