Everyone’s got a wind god. The Aztecs had Ehecatl, the Norse had Njord. The Greeks had Zephyrus, who fanned the city of Elysium with pleasant breezes. But we don’t need any wind gods in Davis.

We can make our own wind.

We have several man-made wind tunnels on the UC Davis campus. One is called the Saltation Wind Tunnel, and it’s used to test particle flow. Another is the Aeronautical Wind Tunnel. It tests airflow over objects like airplane wings.

The coolest wind tunnel in town, though, is the Atmospheric Boundary Layer Wind Tunnel (ABLWT) behind Bainer Hall.

The ABLWT sits in a room surrounded by tiny foam models of the world. There’s the UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine complex and San Francisco Bay’s Treasure Island all made out of pink and blue foam. You can walk over to a scale model of San Francisco and tower over skyscrapers.

I felt like Godzilla.

Grey Taylor, an aeronautical and mechanical engineering major and wind tunnel technician at UC Davis, gave me a tour of the tunnel. He explained that the models are used to test for safe wind speeds. When a scale model is in the wind tunnel, a robot arm holds a tiny strip of wire over a specific location. An electrical current runs through the wire to make it hot, but when wind hits the wire, it cools down.

“We measure wind speed by measuring how much voltage [the wire] needs to stay at its temperature,” Taylor said.

Back in 2000, research at the ABLWT changed the San Francisco skyline. The builders of AT&T Park had UC Davis test wind speeds around the stadium. Tests showed that with the park facing south – the original plan – fans sitting near left field would have been hit by harsh wind. But if the field turned just 90 degrees, the fans would be happy. The builders changed the design with the recommendations of UC Davis, and the wind has been carrying home runs out of the stadium ever since.

Maybe Barry Bonds can thank UC Davis, not steroids.

“He should have contacted us if he wanted some help with his defense,” Taylor joked.

The ABLWT is 70 feet long with a huge fan that sucks up air from one side. When the air enters, it hits a honeycomb screen that breaks up eddies. The air then hits four vertical pillars that create turbulence. There are metal nuts along the floor of the tunnel which help slow down wind close to the ground. All these obstacles create a natural wind pattern called a boundary layer.

The boundary layer is the height where wind speeds get powerfully high and turbulent. Wind speeds get lower as you get closer to the ground. This dynamic is why winds on top of a mountain (or a hill in San Francisco) can be unbearable. When you put obstacles like metal nuts or buildings in the path of the wind, wind patterns closer to the ground change.

Alex Neigher, an atmospheric science major and member of The Aggie weather team, explained in an e-mail interview that extreme weather conditions often affect the boundary layer.

“Right before or after a big storm,” he said, “there is a lot of turbulence in the lower atmosphere. The turbulence can extend up to where the higher winds are in the atmosphere and mix these really high winds down to the surface where we interpret them as really high gusts.”

If you understand the boundary layer, the TV weather forecaster makes a lot more sense.

San Francisco is famously gusty, but high winds in Davis have also led to projects for the ABLWT. Taylor showed me a model of a building in the Vet Med center where high winds damaged an outward-facing door and risked employee injuries. Researchers at the ABLWT discovered that the funnel shape of the building combined with a second-story walkway created high winds on the ground level. The recommended solution: Plant a tree to block the wind.

With the search for alternative energy, wind turbines have become more popular. In September, San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom revealed plans to install wind turbines on rooftops across the city. Wind is a renewable source of energy, so we mortals should strive to harness it.

Take that, wind gods.

MADELINE McCURRY-SCHMIDT blames all her bad hair days on the wind. E-mail her column ideas at memschmidt@ucdavis.edu.

You never know when opportunity is going to come a-knocking. Usually it arrives after sending out some over-exaggerated resume claiming everything from knowing a second language (you can say “I want Taco Bell” in Spanish) to your pet-sitting experience.

Other times, you might meet some tipsy old man at a baseball game who drunkenly offers you a job. I had the good fortune of meeting opportunity this way.

This is pretty cool to me because rarely does anyone receive a great opportunity from drinking. Granted there are plenty of people that think they have. However, in sober retrospect, I’m sure they realized that dominating the karaoke mic at G Street Pub was stupid. And dancing on their creepy pole was, too.

Let’s get back to the chance I was given. I was at a Giants game in September when I found myself sitting in front of four drunk old men. My friend Pedro, who was just as drunk (but not as old), became their temporary best friend.

It was soon revealed that one of them managed an organic chocolate company. Coincidently, I used to work at a chocolate factory. I was basically an Oompa Loompa but much taller – and less orange. I don’t believe I ever burst into song either.

Anyway, with the liquid courage of a vodka Sprite flowing through his veins, Pedro name-dropped me to the man and I was given his contact information. I wasn’t going to actually e-mail the guy, but Pedro and my empty bank account convinced me otherwise.

So I wrote this creepy e-mail about meeting him at a Giants game and hoping he’d consider me – the chick he randomly met for 10 seconds – for a job. I say creepy because I fully expected him to have no recollection of that night or me. I probably could have said he promised me the company along with his car and he’d have no idea.

Well, this past week I finally received an e-mail from the man I’ll call White Chocolate. Without asking for a resume, references or even my criminal record (not that I have one …), he offered me a job – more specifically, a job that pays me a hundred bucks for every three-hour demo.

My gut tells me to be suspicious of such a sweet deal just being handed to me. But I’m definitely going to ignore it and take the offer.

White Chocolate told me my job would be to give product demonstrations in the Sacramento area. While I like the professional sound of this business jargon, it roughly translates to me being one of those awkward sample people at a Costco. From my understanding, I will basically park myself at an aisle in Whole Foods and badger people to buy vegan chocolate. Whatever. I’m still in.

Sure, there probably isn’t much mobility in this line of work. I don’t believe I will rapidly move up the vegan chocolate company ladder to some crazy dream job in organic foods. I’m just saying that as college students, it doesn’t hurt to network a little.

Go to some random events and throw your name out there. I don’t even like baseball, nor am I remotely vegan. Yet now I’ll be working for a vegan group all because I got dragged to watch a sport I’m not in to.

That last paragraph sounded kind of bleak. I swear I’m pretty psyched about this odd turn of events.

The bottom line is even if you’re not looking for an opportunity, one can still find you. The odds of this happening, though, greatly increase when the bearer of opportunity is buzzed.

AMANDA HARDWICK hopes she doesn’t get fired from the job she hasn’t even started yet for writing this. Vegan chocolate is awesome! If my new employer is reading this and is displeased, they can fire me at aghardwick@ucdavis.edu. 

Being a college student is hard work. You have to manage your time between classes, work, partying and – for some – a relationship. For those of you in a relationship, you know it can be challenging to maintain the lust and passion that got you there in the first place.

If you and your loved one both live in the same city, things are a lot easier to manage. Enjoying each other’s company can be a daily occurrence. You can even go study together at the library. Try to avoid the PDA, though – there are people trying to pass their classes.

What if your significant other lives on the other end of the state, opposite side of the country or even in a different country?

There seems to be a negative stigma about long-distance relationships. Many people believe it just can’t be done.

But I, my dear readers, am living, breathing proof that it’s not all bad.

We met when I was a sophomore and he was a junior. We spent a lot of time together in Davis during that time, but knew it might not last forever.

After staying together while both of us studied abroad during different quarters, our feelings for each other have endured. With about 400 miles between us, we find that trust – like many other lovebirds find – is the most important factor in a long-distance relationship.

David Coleman, a dating doctor who claims he’s “America’s real-life Hitch,” gives some advice for those who believe absence makes the heart grow fonder (which, according to him, it does not). On his website, he says “trust, respect, intimacy, passion and commitment” are the basis for healthy relationships.

When distance separates two people who love each other, they begin to miss each other’s presence – and yes, the sex, too. Coleman shares a list of the do’s and don’ts on the site. So if you’re in a rough spot with your far-away hunny, his words of wisdom may be of some assistance.

My friend and her boyfriend are in a long-distance relationship. She thinks it sucks. She also thinks, however, that it tests the strength of their relationship.

Valentine’s Day was the worst for her. She was reminded by a huge balloon bouquet delivered to one of her roommates that she would not be spending the day with her boyfriend.

She told me, though, that they randomly send cards to each other through snail mail. And for Christmas, her boyfriend bought her a Southwest gift card so she could see him more.

Another friend who was in a long distance relationship up until Sunday says, “I know they can work as long as you have the next trip planned, have an end to the long distance in sight and have good communication.”

Yes, communication is also key when you’re committed to someone who’s miles away. In this day and age, it has never been easier to communicate with your loved one when you are unable to be with them. So thank technology for the invention of computers, web cameras and the Internet. Without those things, you might be up “relationshit” creek without a paddle.

I’m not going to lie. Long-distance relationships are hard and take a lot of work. There’s a lack of proximity and a lack of intimacy. But fellas, you have your hand. And ladies, perhaps a toy might do the trick.

If you really love the person, you’ll make it work. Just make sure he or she knows you care about them. Make an effort to visit each other whenever possible. And know you’re not alone in long-distance relationship land.

ERICA BETNUN is counting down the days till spring break. Have anything fun planned? Let her know at elbetnun@ucdavis.edu.

Oh man. This time next week, I’ll be writing an emotional closing to my short time as a columnist for The California Aggie. (I’m going abroad next quarter.)

So what do you write for your second-to-last column ever?

My mind is racing, actually. In my two years as a columnist, I’ve covered topics that were serious, comical and – at times – really just irrelevant.

My goal in writing this column was to help educate myself and the UC Davis campus about the inequalities I saw in the world. I think at first, I did just that. I was passionate, felt lively and couldn’t wait to piss somebody off with my writing each week.

But in the last couple months, I felt overwhelmed by how much was going on. Writing a measly column for a school newspaper in the middle of nowhere wasn’t helping the world in any way.

Now that the end is so near, though, I see all these possibilities for topics to write about. Especially with all the ridiculous racism and homophobia that has been taking place up and down the state on UC campuses.

There’s been xenophobia regardless of who is being targeted, and it really fuels my fire. It reminded me that by being a voice on a UC campus, I had a lot more power than I realized.

But like I said, I only have two columns left.

So I want to dedicate this second-to-last column to the minority students in the UC system. The final one will, of course, be dedicated to Tupac.

I have an 8-year-old baby brother back at home. He’s really bright, really quick. A few weeks ago, though, I was home and saw him struggling with his homework. He was doing word problems and my mom was trying to help him but she couldn’t understand it. She read each word with her finger under it and struggled to pronounce some of them before she asked for my help.

And it hit me: 13 years ago, I was an 8-year-old and my parents knew even less English then than they do now.

Fast forward to 2010. I’m a graduating senior getting two B.A.s at UC Davis, writing for the school newspaper in a language I didn’t learn until kindergarten and getting ready to go to law school.

That’s what being a minority at the UC is about.

It’s about the accomplishments as well as the baggage that we carry. It’s about not being a native English speaker, but still staying on par with your native-English speaking classmates. It’s about shaping your decisions around your family and setting an example for younger siblings.

Being a minority student at a UC means having a very different point of view than most people. Sometimes going home on the weekend means family making fun of you for being a nerd. It can mean being ostracized for moving out before marriage. It can mean your parents losing an employee.

So when you see something like a noose hanging in the library of a UC, what the fuck are you supposed to think? Being in higher education is alienating enough without seeing the word “fag” spray painted across the one safe space a LGBTIQ person might feel they have.

Students of color, minority students and those of all marginalized communities need to look back and remember how much they each have accomplished just by reaching the UC. Acts of hatred like those that have taken place across UC campuses should remind us all to get nice and cozy. We ain’t going nowhere.

Remembering how much I’ve accomplished since I was a child struggling in elementary school felt amazing. It will be a damned shame if I ever forget that again.

Don’t you forget it either.

Said Tupac, “And still I rise so keep ya head up, and make ya mind strong / It’s a struggle every day but you gotta hold on / Be strong.”

SARA KOHGADAI will find other ways to stir some shit up after her last column runs. Catch the series finale next Tuesday. She can be contacted at sbkohgadai@ucdavis.edu.

Ahh, the Facebook column – a great fallback for columnists looking for shit to write about.

My original idea (that was supposed to start this week) was to imitate the rest of The Aggie columnists by writing in their style. My plan went as follows:

For Mario Lugo, I envisaged writing something risqué or crazy – like an Eyes Wide Shut style orgy I went to last summer and participated in; for Beth Sekishiro, I was planning on writing something that would blow my mind if I were reading it while taking shrooms or dropping acid; for Sara Kohgadai, I was planning on ending my column with a somewhat irrelevant but nevertheless badass quote from a Tupac song (or in my case, Dr. Dre); for Erica Betnun, I was going to have a “Top 10 places to have anal on campus;” for Amanda Hardwick, I was planning on writing something Seinfeld-esque like, “What’s the deal with Cheetos? Who would find cheese and toes to be tasty? That’s disgusting;” for Michelle Rick, I imagined writing something about HB2K10, like a “How I didn’t get diced and sliced by the propeller under my boat” column; and for Will “Billy Christmas” Long, I imagined writing something that included late ’60s rock artists, stylized anecdotes of him being Batman in his spare time and some reference to watered-down beer. I was thinking Natty Ice.

So much for that idea. Back to Facebook.

Facebook is useless. We use it to talk to people we already talk to in real life, and we don’t talk to people we already don’t talk to in real life. I found a couple friends from elementary school that I hadn’t seen in over a decade – it wasn’t as interesting as you’d think. Finding a long-lost friend on Facebook is like finding a picture of a donut when you’re really hungry. Sure, it looks good, but it still doesn’t satiate your hunger. I don’t even know what the fuck that meant, so I’ll let you decipher it.

But the point of my column isn’t to bash Facebook – it’s to show you the most useful, life-changing technique available. I call it the “Facebook Shuffle,” because the word shuffle just makes shit sound cool and mysterious. It requires five, easy steps:

1. Go to your favorite friend with over 300 photos (this number can vary, but the ideal is to find a friend who has a lot of photos) and make sure you can see them and browse through them comfortably without any lag. (Note: A Facebook friend is not a Facebook friend if you can’t see their photos).

2. Browse through the latest 10 to 20 photos you see and keep the image of the person in your head.

3. Go to the newest photo available … and then hold your breath and close your eyes.

4. Press “Previous” while you’re on the first photo and you’ll go to the person’s OLDEST photo they ever put on Facebook. (Note: This ideally works best for seniors. Freshmen are still high-school/middle-school looking so it’s not interesting.)

5. Be amazed at how much your friend/acquaintance/dude you met at a bar changed over the course of college.

Some people will blow your mind. Others will be exactly the same. Regardless, it’s a very interesting exercise in the cataloging of human development. For me, it’s pretty clear I’ve gained about 100 pounds.

[I’m writing this last part of my column in SciLec during an o-chem lecture. As I look to the very back on the right side, there is a podium at the top of the steps. There’s this funny looking dude taking notes on it while standing up. I can’t help but be amazed by his obscene asshole-ocity combined with the fact that it’s totally inappropriate to pretend you’re a professor when you have no clue what the fuck is going on.]

DAVE KARIMI thinks people who use the word “amuse” – as in “I was amused that Coldstone didn’t have pistachio flavored ice cream” – are just pretentious assholes. He can be reached or touched at dkarimi@ucdavis.edu.