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.

Snowshoe 2-3-4 and Ski 2-3-4. Good.

 

It's not easy being the obstreperous one

An abridged list of places where Dave has gotten free food since moving:

1) An aerobics room on campus -- There was a burrito welcome dinner for new and transfer students.

2) A church -- I got a loaf of bread for attending a church for the first time.

3) Chipotle -- Went in looking for coffee, left with a free burrito. 

4) The International House -- Tacos were served during this "fiesta" thrown for those residents of the Lory apartments (where I live) and of the International House (where international students live).

I realize that I have spent most nights sitting in the chapter chair, sipping wine from my rocks glass, reading . . . alone.  I look back at my posts.  Most of them rave about avocados -- friggin' avocados!  Who blogs about avocados?  People who spend most nights sitting in a chapter chair, sipping wine from their rocks glass, reading alone, that's who! Realizing this, I have attended a few events in the hope of meeting people.

First, I attended a dinner welcoming new and transfer students.  At this event I had the pleasure of sitting across from a kid who liked to concatenate ". . . that reminds me of this time that I was at a strip club . . ." to my table's conversation.  To be honest, it seemed to me that his apparent age would not have allowed him to have any strip club stories.  Perhaps he confused his pediatrician's office for a strip club.  Needless to say, I left that event prematurely or, rather, maturely.

I also attended a church for the first time (since the move).  The problem with me and churches is my judgmental, 14 years of Christian education enabled, learned pretense.  There was a battle in my head that went something like this:

Me: "Ugh, topical preaching?  Really?  What, are we in 3rd grade Sunday school again?"
 

I: "C'mon, they seem to be a good Bible believing church.  Give it a chance, so the pastor hasn't learned the power of good exegetical preaching yet."
 

Me: ". . . and white bread? Wouldn't Jesus want this temple to only ingest whole wheat?"
 

I: "OK Me, now that is just petty."

 

 I then attended CSU's "CRU" meeting.  Afterward everyone went to Coldstone Creamery.  Despite the fact that I try to not eat added sugar, I went in the hope of meeting people or, at minimum, a person.  To not be left out in the consumption part of this ice-cream fellowship, I went next door to Chipotle, praying that they had coffee.  When I came back to Coldstone with my free burrito, I realized how old I was compared to everyone else there. While I will most likely attend "CRU" again, the cause for future deep conversion will probably be lost.

Finally (tonight), I went to an event for apartment residents.  In line for food I met Ahmad.  While still in line he indicated that he would be my friend.  I tried to not get too excited, this was my best lead to date.  I sat with him to eat.  It just so happens that he was sitting across from a group of Christians -- Christians who apparently go to a church with exegetical preaching; Christians who invited me to go see "The Book of Eli" with them (yes, Mike, two movies in the same year!); Christians who would later come to my apartment and finally use all those coasters I lovingly made from old CDs and cardboard.  While Ahmad may be Muslim, he was totally used by Jesus.  Sorry Ahmad.

We all sat around my underused coffee table and sipped wine from rocks glasses and coffee mugs.  We even shared a couple of avocados!  (OK, so I even blog about avocados now that I have met people.  We all know that I have some serious problems.)

Wait, now I remember why I don't want friends . . . 

Ugh, do I really have to go out tomorrow for more wine and avocados?

Do you snowshoe with your mouth open?

I will propose two related theories:

1) The amount of one's introspection is a constant.  This constant varies from person to person, but never changes for the individual (Note: having introspection does not also imply the use of that introspection.  One may be aware that they suck, but choose to not act on this knowledge).

2) As an observer cannot infer anther's amount of introspection based on their personal growth (see "Note" above), there must be some other indicator.  The best indicator, then, is how much one chews with their mouth open.  
i.e. Self-awareness = k/(open-mouth chewing)

There are toys we have that we never use, no matter how much we mean to.  I was determined that this should not be the case in regards to the sweet snowshoes Rob hooked me up with before I moved.  So--with no prior snowshoeing experience--I drove to Rocky Mountain National Park, found a hill that was very steep and snowy,  and I snowshoed the crap out of it.  Oh yes, it was as if the mountain was my Lolita and I was its Humbert Humbert.  Sure, the mountain may have experimented with other trekkers, but none as awesome as I.  RMNP, light of my life, fire of my lungs. This is why I moved out here.

While I may be a bit of a music junky while driving (Joe Satriani), cooking (Muse/Foo Fighters), or mathematicing (Bela Fleck and the Flecktones/Morphine); I never bring music with me skiing or hiking. Somehow I feel it gets in the way.  It is nice to be alone with God's creation and reflect in the quietness.

Finally, at the top!  Now I'll just put my skis on and . . . wait, I knew I forgot something.

Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads . . . but you might want to bring your ti-86

King Nebuchadnezzer dreamed of a statue.  It had a gold head, silver mid-bits, a belly and thighs of bronze, iron legs, and clay feet.  Whoever designed this statue must have, at every stage, said to himself, "Wow, this is turning out better than I expected!  Maybe I should upgrade my medium."  . . . or, maybe, it just meant King N's kingdom was in store for some crappier times.

"Hey Dave," you might say as we enjoy our ice cream cones, "Your overall pretense makes me think you have it all together.  You, obviously, are not worried about finishing school.  Man, this is one mighty fine hypothetical frozen treat."  I am, however, not immune to the nervousness everyone gets when beginning something new.  I ask myself:  Was I not just a big fish in a little pond?  Will third and fourth year math classes be much harder than I expect? 

After all, I did just bomb a basic algebra competency quiz at my tutoring interview.  It was if I was just given a driving lesson in a car with a manual transmission and had no problem putting the car into first gear, but could not quite understand how to operate the turn signal.  "Good!," my instructor would exclaim as I eased on the gas through the clutch's sweet-spot (with minimal instruction, of course), ". . . now make this next left."  I honk the horn; he shakes his head no.  I turn on the wipers; he shakes his head no.  I flick the turn signal clockwise; he snaps his clipboard in half. 

I wonder, "What if I'm just not cut out for this mathematics racket?"  Then, as I'm using the self checkout at the supermarket, I realize an employee is coming over to help me.  Apparently I cannot look up the sku for my avocados, without the help of a King Soopers employee.  I, who once worked at a grocery store, cannot read the large "4225" on the sticker of each avocado and put it into the computer (there were six avocados in all-- 6 avocados x 1 "4225" = 6 "4225"s).  It was then I realized, academia and I deserve each other.  I was meant for this. 

After all, there are academics and then there are people who are actually useful.  Now I wonder how I am supposed to get one of these avocados open.  Maybe it would help if I drew a force diagram.

Those Who Can't Do

When CD's came out people forgot how to use record players.  When Al Gore gave us the internet, he unwittingly damned the bound encyclopedia industry.  After Jesus came, people forgot how to properly burn a turtle-dove (or is it two turtle-doves?) over stone.  With the calculator, we no longer needed to deal with those pesky mathematical details.

I was smart enough in high-school to be stupid and take neither a fourth year of math nor a fourth year of science.  Being interested in only that which pertained to art, I then forgot what I had learned in those subjects the three years I did take them.  With a blank mind I was free to absorb more art facts; I was free to retain more self-taught philosophy; I was free to bomb my math placement test when I finally returned to college.  I placed into math 103, "Intermediate Algebra."  This bored me; so, I walked right up to the dean of the mathematics department and said, "Dean of the mathematics department, I do not want to take these silly classes.  My mom tells me I'm a smart boy.  Please wave all prerequisites such as, but not limited to, college algebra, geometry, and trigonometry.  Thank you for your time."

Tomorrow I have an interview for a math tutoring position.  If I am given this job I will tutor kids from k-12 in mathematics .  The question occurs to me, "do I know any mathematics on the k-12 level?"  Unless 2nd graders have a habit of struggling with integrating functions involving the inverse tangent, I believe the answer is no.   No, I do not remember polynomial long division (or regular long division for that matter), how to complete the square (OK, so I can probably do that if I squint enough), or how to properly use one of those factorials (the "!," if you forget). 

I will now have to spend my night cramming all the math in my brain that I once tried so hard to forget.  I think my interviewer mentioned something about a quiz.  I sure hope, but very much doubt, that there is a definite integral on it -- otherwise I might just embarrass myself.

Wait a minute . . .  I think I'm starting to get it!

The Cart Exerts an Equal Force on the Mule

Were you stalking me, you might be inclined to ask why I just spent the last hour getting a head-start by reading my Differential Equations text.

I have come to realize that I am not so much driven by the want to complete something, but rather by the want to avoid something else.  Say I have a task on hand, we will call it "task A."  I will only complete task A if another, more pressing, task (hereafter referred to as "task B") comes up.  I will then seek to complete task A, which was once as pressing as task B, because that way I feel accomplishment while still not having to think about that awful task B. The cycle continues.

Today I seemed to have accomplished a lot.  I met with an adviser about having transfer credits satiate graduation requirements (for, if my classes transferred were blocks of different shapes, the toddler which is CSU admin did not put every block in the hole matching its specific shape.  Instead that toddler just took a few blocks, threw them at me, watched me wince, and laughed -- just before pooping itself).  I then took a form, acquired from aforementioned meeting, and met with someone else, from the physics department, in order to set an appointment to plead the case of why he should pick up the block he threw on the floor and place it nicely in the physicsy-shaped hole.

Really, I just didn't want to have to think about finding a job. 

Fine.  I'm done blogging.  I'll work out now.  Hmm, I wonder what it costs to do laundry around here . . .

Atlas Shrugged, I Reclined.

Too many people want too many things.  They want their iphones AND to travel more, free health care AND lower taxes, paired socks AND to live on their own.  These things don't exist together.  Face it, you don't get to complain to me that you'd like to travel more if only you had the money over a phone that costs almost $1,000 extra per year to own.  


I don't have a tv in Colorado, which is fine seeing as how I am literate.  This being the case, I decided to look on Craig's List for some sort of chair that didn't make me feel as if I was waiting to have my teeth examined.  This would be a chair where my pretense might find strength in the written word.  Lo and behold, I found a lady who was moving and needed to be rid of one such chair.  It is now called, thanks to Wini, the Chapter Chair (complete with Chapter Ottoman Boy, his faithful front-kick).  It is like a chapter house, but rather than being a house, it is a chair.  Also, instead of only being able to read select passages of Scripture in it, one can read Scripture and Ayn Rand in it. 

(Those may or may not be coasters I made of old cds and cardboard.  One must save money wherever one can, if one wants to sip fine wine from one's rocks glass.)

Pretty Hot and Tempting, and Over Pasta.

The fact is they lied to you. They told you, “Don’t cook with saturated fat, try browning your lean, tasteless meat in this Lipitor instead.” Well I will have you know that saturated fat is more stable and therefore is less likely to oxidize, become plaque, and clog your [almost useless anyway, since you never get outside anymore] arteries. You find me one doctor who can actually explain how the opposite is true and I will find you someone with a measurable IQ who thinks the Twilight series is of any value to anybody. The truth is you cannot and I cannot. We both cannot.

I made ground meat and noodles with ground buffalo. The problem is, buffalo is too lean. You actually need fat to process protein. So, I made it healthy by browning the meat in a ton of butter, adding a healthy portion of olive oil to the sauce, and adding one (or maybe two) fat filled avocados to the mix. I find it better to not actually count avocados, as counting only inhibits you eating more of them.

Isn’t heath food such a drag? The fact that I must suffer such a tasteful dish in the name of my body – it just doesn’t seem right.

Now I must finish drinking my wine from a rocks glass; but, before I go, I will leave you with some of Lipitor’s awesome benefits (according to Lipitor’s own web site), in case you are considering enjoying some over-cooked white meat with a side of atorvastatin:

These serious side effects include:

• Muscle problems. LIPITOR can cause serious muscle problems that can lead to kidney problems, including kidney failure. You have a higher chance for muscle problems if you are taking certain other medicines with LIPITOR
• Liver problems. LIPITOR can cause liver problems. Your doctor may do blood tests to check your liver before you start taking LIPITOR, and while you take it

Call your doctor right away if:

• You have muscle problems like weakness, tenderness, or pain that happen without a good reason, especially if you also have a fever or feel more tired than usual
• You have allergic reactions including swelling of the face, lips, tongue, and/or throat that may cause difficulty in breathing or swallowing, which may require treatment right away
• You experience nausea and vomiting
• You pass brown or dark-colored urine
• You feel more tired than usual
• Your skin and whites of your eyes get yellow
• You have stomach pain
• You have an allergic skin reaction

In clinical studies, patients reported the following common side effects while taking LIPITOR:

• Diarrhea
• Upset stomach
• Muscle and joint pain
• Alterations in some laboratory tests

The following additional side effects have been reported with LIPITOR:

• Tiredness
• Tendon problems

Talk to your doctor or pharmacist if you have side effects that bother you or that will not go away. These are not all the side effects of LIPITOR. Ask your doctor or pharmacist for a complete list.

Before You Start LIPITOR

Tell your doctor if you:

• Have muscle aches or weakness
• Drink more than 2 glasses of alcohol daily
• Have diabetes
• Have a thyroid problem
• Have kidney problems

Some medicines should not be taken with LIPITOR. Tell your doctor about all the medicines you take, including:

• Prescription and nonprescription medicines
• Vitamins
• Herbal supplements

LIPITOR and certain other medicines can interact causing serious side effects. Tell your doctor if you are taking any medicines, especially those for:

• Your immune system
• Cholesterol
• Infections
• Birth control
• Heart failure

• HIV or AIDS

P.S. An official study by a man with a clipboard, in a long white coat, with a name tag showed that people who thought Twilight was a legitimate novel had, on average, IQ's whose squares were smaller than the IQ itself. Hmm.

Sometimes the Road Less Traveled is Less Traveled Because It is Ridiculous.

I am now in Colorado. I was not always in Colorado. After graduating high school (in Philadelphia), like most 18 year-olds, I decided it best that I should drop out of college after only a year. After all, I did co-start a sweet production company (who, at that point, was moving from filming Mr. and newly Mrs. Hissurname, to grand productions such as Cairnwood: A Home in the Country). I also had acquired a bitchin’ Camaro Z28. Living this big, I saw no need to complete a degree in Bible.

I then had a falling out with the co-founder my production company, so I left the prestigious world of producing aimless documentaries for non-profits who had acquired too much money in the form of a grant with a soon expiring “use by” date. From there, I made a move in a similar direction – I enrolled in a tech school for exercise science and nutrition.

This led me to teach at the same tech school, helping me realize that all I wanted to do was teach adults. Before returning to school in this aim, I managed a fitness facility and worked as a private holistic nutrition consultant. But, after more than two years there I had roughly this conversation with the club’s owner.

Me: “Hi.”

Him: “You want to go to school, so I am hiring another trainer and you will no

longer be the manager of my struggling club. His name is DeeJay.”

Me: “D.J.?”

Him: “No DeeJay.”

Me: “He sounds stupid. You probably shouldn’t hire him.”

Him: “He is bigger and blacker than you, so he will actually form a client base.”

Me: “You have a point.”

He had a point. I’m rubbish as a trainer. While I have made it my job to learn everything there is to know about fitness, wellness, nutrition, and coconut products, I still have the body of an Olympic, female gymnast (narrow shoulders, small breasts, and a rather large butt). So I did what anyone else would have done – I enrolled at my community college as a mathematics major; using my secret knowledge of all things fitness to argue with, and later befriend, the guy running the fitness facility at aforementioned community college.

While finishing my associates in the maths, I have worked as a Division I strength coach, a bar back, a stock boy, a private video producer (to magicians and web-based RA training resource companies the like). Now, I have transferred to Colorado State University and I need a job.

So . . . If any of you happen to know of any jobs in video, fitness, nutrition, alcohol-based relaxation, or at a supermarket let me know.