I've moved my blog!

My blog can now be found at
http://www.davidsallen.com/bloghavagida/

Major Blog 2: Back in the Minors

It is pretty difficult to play the corpse.  Wini and I had decided that we should find out, were I to die on the bedroom floor, whether or not she could get me onto the bed.  Of course this meant I had to play dead, which is harder than one might think.  Suddenly I would be aware of some muscle group which contracted in direct defiance of the rules of our game, causing me to have to pinch the proverbial hose of some motor neuron. (I am, of course, referring to that splendid proverb of the kinked hose, which we use to teach very young children of axon terminals and acetylcholine.)

So yes, it is difficult to play dead. This is why (here I must note an extreme pleasure I am currently taking in the transition which I am about to type) I have decided to revisit blogging, so as to convince you all that I am indeed not dead.  Of course in deciding this, I ventured to read over blogs past--causing me winces and smiles the like.  So, without further adieu, a quick update on that which was formerly found in my blog:

• I moved from the Lory apartments, but was later blessed with access to a sauna at Kevin's condo.  We ended up, however, frequenting the hot tub more. We made a postcard.

Beautiful Colorado: Where everything's flat until it's not.

• I ended up teaching Math 317, the course whose material  canvases my shirt in the "An Affinity for Infinity" post, my last summer at Colorado State University. I also taught several semesters of calculus, giving me cause to make sweet images for exam questions.

Look, they're friends.

I also made logos for each of my sections, inspiring the solidarity needed to wage war on the other sections.

Really, I taught section 007.

• I am again unsure as to what I want to be when I grow up. To this end, I resumed working on my novel, which most of you are unlikely to ever read.  I have also, however, written a few short stories which I will make public as soon as they are all formally rejected from the places to which they have been submitted for rejection.

Late to bed, late to rise, makes a man a vampire . . .

My vampiric tendencies are starting to annoy me as of late.  Why just the other day . . . night . . . morning, I was on this very computer and noticed a comment from a friend on the MySpace.  "Why," I thought to myself, "would he be commenting at this hour?  It must be pretty late in these parts and, as this friend of mine resides in a timezone 2 hours more mature than my own, it seems ridiculous that anyone there should be commenting at this time."  Then, I realized that is was 6am where I was . . . making it 8am there . . . which, I am told is a normal time for one to be up.  Then I thought, "I really think in crazy run-on sentences at this late . . . early hour."

An Affinity for Infinity

Mathematicians are playas. They'll roll right up on yo function and be all like "Yo Effavex, why don't you climb up into my ti-89."  And yo function will usually put out--some real number.  They won't stick with that same function either, cuz they'll derive it crazy.

When I was 18, like most 18 year-olds, I was insecure. Most of my responses to people included the words "I know."  Here's a hint, If most of your responses to people include the words "I know," then you probably aren't letting yourself learn anything and therefore don't know.  At an older age I have learned to suck up my pride.  Sure I am smart, but that means I am smart enough to abuse the resources afforded me.  At 18 I was dumb enough to think I was smart enough to not need those resources. 

So, maybe I understand my analysis class better than most, and maybe I am better at proof writing.  This doesn't change the fact that I suck at arithmetic and sometimes need a reminder that 1/X is greater than X where X<1 (Oh David, you mathematical moron, you).  There is no learning in pretense.  Although there is, and I know there is because I have got it, pretense in learning. 

Even the biggest players need a wing-man from time to time.  For this reason I'm starting a study group for my analysis class. Oh the white boards we will fill to a montage that will result in slow-mo high-fives . . .  I can't wait.

 

crap!  I got a-sub-n all over this shirt, I should change.

Second Place is the First Loser

As Wini and I were discussing the other day . . . We teach our children "slow and steady wins the race."  Really?  Doesn't fast and steady beat slow and steady, and therefore will win any race more so than slow and steady?  In fact, I bet you any hare could beat any tortoise and still afford a nap, so long as that nap wasn't too long.  So, fast and fairly steady will beat slow and steady; and, while it may not win every race as fast and steady will, it may just win enough races to allow early retirement from fictitious racing.  This is that which I am thinking.

On friday I had my first quiz in ordinary differential equations.  I was nervous while approaching this quiz for several reasons.  First, my ODE professor does not seem to wanted to teach.  This coupled with the fact that it is very difficult to understand him through his accent, left me very much untaught.  Secondly, I had not done any homework sets covering that material which I had not learned, which was all of it.

A couple of my classmates, however, seemed on top of things.  They had been reading the text ahead of time, the did homework sets, and they consulted their Schaum's early and often.  Sure I had been reading (Sherlock Holmes), solving problems (like how to fill ones tea kettle despite a very full sink), and consulting my Schaum's (actually Lisa's Schaum's . . . on tensor calculus); but I felt a bit behind.  Was I doing something wrong?  Was I not being a good steward of my time?  Probably.  Here is what I realized:  I am a hare, not a tortoise.  I rock the naps and then have to run very fast late in the game, but it works for me.

By the way, it turns out that the quiz was more or less a joke.  I think my professor only gave it because he had to and therefore made it ridiculously easy so that he wouldn't have to waste his time grading anything.

"Пожалуйста напишите ваше имя на этом списке когда вы будете сделаны викторине, так, что я знаю кто приняло ее. Если я случаюсь освободить все викторины, то я угадываю что я должно дать вам все A' s ;)" or something like that.  As I said, he is difficult to understand.

 

Next up: The Chapter Chair, the Bed, and the Bathtub battle it out to see who is the best location for a nap.

uMac iDon't

I have been busy with school and have, because of this, neglected my blog.  My apologies go out to all three of you, my avid readers.  The truth is, I have had nothing about which to blog, that is, until now. 

I have been made aware of Apple's new shiny thing, you know, the one that is named as if it is some sort of high-tech feminine product.  I look at my old trusty PDA.  It is funny, a few years ago a couple of the kids I strength coached made fun of the fact that I had a separate PDA and phone.  It was too old school for them.  After all, my clie at that point was about 2 years old.  To convert from real years into tech years, I am told you have to use this complicated formula:  Ytech = Yreal x 1googolplex. 

This ridiculous age of my technical device was reflected by its features.  After all, my clie only can connect to any wireless network to surf the web, act an mp3 player, download new applications, read e-books, take photos, has graffiti for super-fast writing (in proper text form), keeps a schedule, and feeds small children.  Those middle-schoolers were on to something those 3 years ago.  In this day and age, who really surfs the internet, keeps a schedule, or listens to portable music?

Now there is all this talk about this iPad.  It pretty much has the same functionality of my old clie, but with the panache of  a celebrity on the red carpet.  Suddenly a device separate from one's phone is back in vogue, except only when that device is far more bulky and has an irritating interface.  Steve Jobs, you have once again earned your paycheck--selling overpriced shiny things to the masses, while making them think they are part of some sort of fringe movement.  My hat goes off to you.

I still use my clie.  It does everything one would need in a portable device, even if it isn't over-priced enough for the mass consumer. 

I sweat alone. Yeah, with nobody else.

The Lory apartments, where I am a resident, consist of two buildings--Lory north and Lory south.  These two buildings are said to house over 100 students.  Why, then, is it the case that the 3 times that I have used the sauna in the basement of Lory north I have not come across 1 person?  Is it because I am the king of the sauna?  I'd like to think this is the case.

Still, 3 sauna visits, at 30 minutes per visit, equals 1.5 hours down there.  You would think I would come across one of those 100 people.  As I have not, I have come to the conclusion that not one Finnish person lives in the Lory apartments.  This means two things: One, I will not get to impress anyone with my ability to say "Santa-Clause" in Finnish; and, two, I am indeed king of the Lory sauna.

Long live the king.