So the plan is this:
Take 2 exams on Thursday. Take one on Friday.
Shop for gifts for McKay and the rest of my family.
Shop for food on Saturday.
Make cookies and go to church on Sunday.
Go to Salt Lake to the Family History Library on Tuesday.
Pack for Chicago on Wednesday.
Fly to Chicago on Thursday!
I'm really excited about our dinner plans for Christmas. We're having gyros! I love lamb.
I saw a really neat nativity this morning and thought of getting it for my mom, but when I went back to the store, it was already gone.
We have one present under the Christmas tree, and by under, I mean that the tree is sitting on top of it.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
So the plan is this:
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Today, I learned what I'm going to do with my life. It's perfect for me and it's everything I've ever wanted. I can't tell you because I don't want my idea stolen, just know, I'm going to be great.
And I finished the top of that quilt last weekend. Now I just need to hand it off for the finishing touches!
Friday, November 17, 2006
There are a few things that are on my list that I'd like to do before I die. Some of these include
- Having children
- Receiving a master's degree in mathematics
- Write a book (New York Times Bestseller, of course)
- Be invited as a guest on Larry King Live
- Quilt a quilt on my own
- Run a marathon (plans to do that next summer?)
- Grow a large garden and sell produce from a stand on the side of a country road.
- Take a class on sculpture
- Take voice lessons (we all know I need it)
- Work on my genealogy a lot
- Kiss in the rain (haha! Have to convince my husband!)
And the great thing is that today, on my doorstep, I found a collection of scrap fabric with a note saying they'd like for me to finish the top of the quilt by the end of the month!
ACK! I thought I'd signed up so I could learn to quilt- the sign up said to sign if we knew how or wanted to learn. So know, I guess I really have to learn! The fabric is really pretty, though.
I don't own a sewing machine.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Last Thursday, Dr. M. Ram Murty of Queen's University came to BYU and gave a colloquium talk on the Art of Research. I found him and the talk to be interesting (as he is a number theorist), so I asked to go out to dinner with the math department with him afterwards.
First, this was my first experience with Indian food. It was very good. They kept saying that it would be spicy, but they didn't really pull through on that. We asked for medium, and they probably gave us gringo medium. It was good, anyway.
The conversation was very interesting. There were 11 people there: 1 M. Ram Murty, 7 professors from BYU, one wife of a professor, and McKay and I. We were having such a wonderful time listening to the conversations. On one side of the table, they were discussing University policy and how the math department fits in with everything; the other side were discussing especially bright past students and where they are now. In all, very interesting talk.
Dr. Murty had asked McKay I who we were, I explained to him and I'm sure as soon as I said "undergrad" we were put on the bottom of the pile. McKay talked with Dr. Skarda about computers and such. Dr. Skarda is hilarious. Direct quote from Skarda: You know what I call the customers at the Math Lab? Muggles. (The math lab is where people go to get help on their homework, usually college algebra and calculus students and engineers)
Dr. Cardon spoke up.
"I hear you're doing research with Dr. Forcade. Tell us about that."
I had actually been waiting to be invited to talk about my research, but I wasn't expecting the events to happen as they did.
I started talking about the premise of our research, the unsolved problem and the work we've done. I mention that we've found a new form which allows to to related it to such and such and that we've found some good evidence that (more such and such). I expected to say that much.
But I didn't expect the other half of the table to go quiet. For about 5 minutes, I had the attention of 8 PhDs at dinner. I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn't look away from Dr. Cardon, less I forget everything I wanted to say and finish with a "duhh..."
I smiled and the conversations were struck up again. Ram Murty didn't ask me about my stuff like I thought he would, but maybe that's for the better since I probably wouldn't have been able to think clearly enough to answer any questions.
Later, when McKay and I were walking home, I asked him if he noticed that the table was quiet when I was talking. He said, "I was wondering if you noticed!"
Yes. Yes, I did. My pounding heart noticed, too.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
So I took the Mathematics GRE. I signed an official statement saying I won't talk about it, though. It was fun. I finished with 40 minutes left to go back and fill in ones I had skipped. That's either a good sign or a bad sign. My biggest issue is that I'm a risk taker and I'll guess if I can narrow it down to 2 options. The chances are in my favor, but knowing my luck, I guessed wrong each time.
So now, my future is decided, though I don't know what the decision is. Alas!
And McKay was WONDERFUL! He did the laundry while I took the test and did some of the dishes. Then, after the test, when my brain was dead, he took me out to Fuddrucker's. And THEN, I fell asleep for 2 hours because I was so tired and he finished cleaning the dishes and the stove and swept the kitchen. He's a lifesaver. But just so you don't think I'm lazy, I did clean the bathroom when I got up from my nap.
McKay is so wonderful; what guy would do all that? I hit the jackpot with this one.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
"It's true- about English majors writing about how everyone is gay!"
"Of course it's true; I wasn't making it up."
You see, my harpist friend, has just discovered this. It is well known throughout the world, that the only a few theses exist for a doctoral or master's English candidate can write:
- _______ (insert author, composer, historical figure) is gay.
- _______ was molested/abused as a child
- _______ molested/abused children
- _______ had a Freudian complex (Oedipus or other)
- _______ never happened (insert event such as the Holocaust, the landing on the moon, etc)
- _______ is after us (or other conspiracy theory)
I find this amusing. A person could have 7 mistresses and 20 children, and they'd still be labeled as gay. Events which were documented meticulously (especially the Holocaust) can suddenly not exist. And believe me, EVERYONE had some Freudian complex.
But really, it's an ideal thesis. You can't go back and ask the person, "Did you conspire with the communists? Did you intentionally start a war? Did you have homosexual tendencies?" So the desperate degree wanting graduate makes up something to say, which can never be proven, unless you find a journal stating, "I was gay. And I single handedly started the French Revolution. Signed, some important person." Of course this isn't always as accurate as we'd like. For example, imagine reading this entry, "I invented the Internet. -Al Gore" when we all know it was I who created the Internet.
I am a math major. When I go to sit down and write a thesis, if it's good enough, it can be 7 pages long and no one looks away. However, if I were to go into English for my master's, I'd have to write a 600 page essay, that, when you white out every extraneously placed "plethora" and "cornucopia," you'd find it to be a specious, 7 page outline of how I, myself, question my identity.
Maybe they think they're being creative; maybe they really do believe what they are saying. But it's not going to last for long. There are only finitely many people in history. If they were all gay, how do you explain the existence of, say, yourself?
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
I had something important to write, but I forgot it when I finally got here to write it up. That's kind of how it's been going for me lately. I'm not even remembering my dreams. I know I had them and I know what happened and even the order everything happened in, but I can't retell it. Obviously, it means I need to buy more turnips.
But Happy Halloween, anyway.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
They told me last winter that when I got married, I would have more time because I wouldn't be wanting to spend all my spare time with my boyfriend.
Show me spare time and I'll show you to the pile of dishes that needs cleaning.
disclaimer: I am really happy in my marriage to McKay. It's a party. Mostly of homework and studying, but hey, what can you do when you're still in school? I called this post "The Lie of Marriage" refering to the lie of having no spare time. I don't think marriage itself is a lie. Just wanted to clarify that before people start questioning things.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
So I've been on this blog for a year. It's really changed since then. I've been thinking about reverting to the old essays plan that I had originally. I've decided that I really like personal essays, and, if I find time to write some, I'll definately be posting some samples here!
Written by TopHat at 4:02 PM
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
BECAUSE IT'S EXTINCT!
It was never cute, but now seasons later, we are tired of the dinosaur hair. Stop it, girls. Stop it right now.
And the sad thing is not that the hair once existed, but that it's still here after 2 million years.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
...you walk by some girls reading the scriptures:
"For there are some eunuchs, which were so born from their mother’s womb: and there are some eunuchs, which were made eunuchs of men: and there be eunuchs, which have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven’s sake. He that is able to receive it, let him receive it."
Matthew 12:19 (KJV)
But instead, you hear:
"For there are some Unix, which were so...."
Yes. Believe it. I really did think, "Unix? Unix is in the Bible? Cool!"
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
I had a strange dream last night. It happened in a series, each section broken up by my waking up and going back to sleep. I only write it here because it was so strange and I remember it well.
Section one: The woods.
I was at a place where there were nice cabins and a very woody area. I got there by flying, but I don't remember if it was a helicopter or plane. The society was, at that time, such that there was a dictator who was systematically killing people who did not fit in his plans. Throughout the dream, I call him Hitler, even though he isn't the actualy Hitler from World War II; his plans were similar. I knew that this was going on, and I was planning on hiding in the woods because I didn't want to die. There was a lady, short and round, with a skirt and glasses, who was one of Hitler's underlings and she was searching for me in the woods. I found a bunny and told him about my hiding. He said he'll hide with me and we went into the woods to hide. We hid successfully as the lady passed by and didn't see us.
Section two: randomly acted killings
I am now driving in a vehicle (I don't remember car or van). I am on a freeway and there are other people in the vehicle (I don't remember who). The traffic is moderate. Suddenly, random cars' windshields go into flames, including mine. I was able to put the fire out (the fire on my windshield was smaller than other cars' and in the dream, I knew that it was because I had been in the woods previously). Other vehicles were not as lucky and burst into flame. Thousands of people died. I knew in my dream, that this was the work of Hitler, who had, with this fire, targeted certain people. The target for this was people who had the priesthood. I can't explain why my car was targeted, as I don't have the priesthood, but I know that was the target group of that killing.
Section three: Deported
I am now in my house in Cary with my family. This whole thing takes place in the future and there is a kind of computer that, when given a person's name, will give information such as height, weight, longitude and latitude of current location. It also gave other various information from time to time. My family is in the family room and I am in the kitchen. I decide to look up my own name. On my screen, it gives time for my deportion: in 2 minutes. Deportion was the name for being chosen to be taken away on an airplane and never seen again. People who were deported were chosen to be sent away by Hitler. I have two minutes to hide before they will show up at my house to take me away. I run out of time and they are at the door. I am panicking in the kitchen, running back and forth, trying to think of someplace to hide, but it is useless. The lady from the woods comes in along with Ali and Greg that I knew from highschool. Note: Ali and Greg and very good people and wouldn't do this in real life; this was just a dream. Well, they tell me I'm to be deported. I ask why and they say that someone they were interviewing gave my name away as a person who did not believe that the world Hitler had made was the best of all possible worlds. I say, "I believe in the truth and that's not the truth." So they go to take me away and I get on them about being on the wrong side. I know they joined Hitler's forces because they thought they'd be safer and less likely to be deported. I cite the random attacks and state that no one's safe and there have been just as many casualties on Hitler's side caused by Hitler as on the other side. Neither side is safe, so just go with the right one. They ignore me and take me and I wake up.
Section 4: the resistance.
So this time, I'm in an apartment with 2 other girls I don't know. We've formed a rebellion (I don't know how I got away from the deportion, but whatever). We are monitoring Hitler's actions. It just so happens that at that moment, we were found out and the lady from the forest and Hitler come in the door. I check my name on the computer and it says I have 3 hours to live. I know that if I'm caught this will be true, but if we can get rid of Hitler, I won't die. I then check Hitler's name and it states that he will die in 3 minutes of food allergies. This is when I decide that we ought to feed him everything we have and hope he dies from it. Anyway, he's coming into our apartment and we're dodging him and the lady and they have us pinned. I take some food and offer it to Hitler and he eats and dies.
So yes. That was my weird dream last night. It probably doesn't mean anything at all, but it was exciting.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Here's a frontpage story you want to read. It's in today's Daily Universe. And suddenly, you realize that people are crazy.
I highlighted the main part of the story so you get the gist right away.
And let's hope my own wedding goes smoothly. Ha ha! Kidnapping!
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
I have low blood pressure (80/65). It's got to be a blessing, it just doesn't seem like one. My low blood pressure likes to get in the way sometimes.
- I lost my vision on Cedar Point's Millenium Force for a good 20 seconds. I wanted to go back one and ride with without losing my vision, but my dad didn't think it was a good idea.
- When I give blood, they always warn me "You have low blood pressure; you know that right?" "Oh yeah. That's completely normal for me" "Okay...here we go!" And then I have to eat cookies for half an hour. Hey! That is a blessing!
- I lose my vision when I stand up too quickly.
Carolyn's warned me, though, to be careful at my wedding. She said she and Scott did some sealings for the dead before they did their own. She ended up passing out because of the kneeling. She said the scene went down like this:
Carolyn passes out.
"Not another one"
"Get the orange juice"
So it looks like it's not uncommon. I hope I get orange juice! or I hope I don't pass out. If I pass out, I want some orange juice. Hooray!
Also on another strange topic, Scott says when he first met me, he mentioned me in his journal that day. He wrote that I was "fractally weird" that "if you looked at the weirdness at one part, it would be as weird as the whole." Thanks, Scott.
Friday, July 21, 2006
So this past week, I've been in Park City for my chemical engineering job. It was a short course on Fischer-Tropsch synthesis. It's not a bad topic, but I won't lie, there were times when I was falling asleep. The purpose of me going was to help me have a better understanding of Fischer-Tropsch. I wouldn't say that the trip fulfilled that for me, but I did gain one thing: a better understanding of my graduate school choices. I'm definately going to have to look into
Mathematical modelling, that is. I've realized that mathematicians are needed pretty much everywhere and I could do that. It's not that hard. Model this, model that. "Make sure the models are physically realistic" -quote from the Short Course notes. I can do that!
People will ask me what I do in graduate school and I could say, "I model mathematical dynamic systems for XY&Z Inc." Or I could just leave off the last part of that sentence.
Most anticipated conversation for the month of August. It will take place in McKay and I's new family ward. We will be asked to give talks and I, as the girl, will be expected to say something about us.
"McKay and I are going to BYU. McKay's a computer science major and will go to grad school in (insert whatever he's thinking about-he keeps changing his mind) and I'm a math major and for grad school, I'll be going into modelling."
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Monday, July 10, 2006
I have a confession to make: I push vending machine buttons too long. Let me tell you why:
Back in Cary, in the high school teacher's lounge, there is a certain sequence of buttons that, when you hold down the last one, instead of just dropping a single candy bar out, the screw will just keep spinning until you stop holding it.
I've never come across a vending machine that does that since, but every time I get something from the vending machines, I always hold the last button down just in case. Maybe someday, I'll come across a vending machine with the same technical glitch. I'm guessing, chances are, there is another one out there. It just depends on my chances of finding one.
Vending machine road trip anyone? We'll scour the nation's vending machines looking for the loose buttons. No vending machine button will be left un-pushed. No payphone slot will be left with so much as a nickel in it! (I'd say penny, but payphones don't take pennies)
Monday, July 03, 2006
I saw the fireworks on Saturday night; McKay and I went up to the temple and watched from there. They were very nice, but something surprised me:
How little people know about the meaning of fireworks. It has always seemed second nature to me that the fireworks represented the battles and the bombs associated with the cost of freedom that our country has paid, but twice this weekend I ran into people who had never made this association.
Now, of course, these people are wonderful, smart people, but it makes me wonder about our education system. For every other national holiday in elementary school, they go over its meaning: Thanksgiving, Columbus Day, Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, President's Day, Memorial Day, etc. They go over meanings and symbolism (esp. Thanksgiving), but somewhere they are missing Independence Day. It may be that Independence Day happens when school is out for the summer, but somewhere along the way, it should be taught in schools, that when you watch the fireworks, to remember the men who lived through the real fireworks at the risk of their lives.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Monday, June 19, 2006
...you should stop kissing other people.
And I know that. You really should stop kissing other people. Things happen. Like jealousy. And confusion.
Last night at ward prayer, I was with McKay and I was looking around for Carolyn. She wasn't there, but Scott was there. During the song, he was just sitting there on the ground looking lonely.
And I wanted to kiss him. Not romantically, mind you- I'm very happy with McKay, but as a friend, because he was just sitting there, dejected.
I must explain a little bit, I suppose. I like kissing people. I've kissed, oh I don't know how many people: Megan, Carolyn, Jennie, and scores of others. It's something I feel is very nice. I wrote something up about it once, but I can't find it on my blog. It must be on my computer; I'll search for it and post it tonight or tomorrow. Then, perhaps, this will make more sense.
Any way, Scott showed up at our door last night to read scriptures and I kissed him. He's getting married in a week and a half; maybe I shouldn't do that so much.
Personally, I feel that people ought to be closer to each other. I think that touching a person reminds you that they are a person and not some tree you pass by on the street. I try to encourage this by giving high-fives in my Relief Society lessons to everyone that participates. People are physically real; there's nothing wrong with a little physical contact (and I'm speaking completely Platonically, of course).
Anyway, I'll find that thing I wrote and post it. There's a good story with it.
Friday, June 16, 2006
On my google homepage, there was a link to this article. It made me start wondering about my own age.
I'm only 20. That's not old, but I'm no longer a kid or a teenager. In fact, this August, I'll no longer be single and I'll have my own family. I'm also two years into my undergraduate degree, hoping to graduate either next April or August and going onto my master's. I work and go to school; the care-free days that I used to enjoy in the summer are now 40-hour work weeks. I also have great financial responsibilities. I've spent more in May and June than I've ever planned to spend in 4 months (well, I do plan small and a lot is wedding stuff: McKay's band, the plane tickets, our deposit for our apartment in the fall, and also school: tuition, room, etc). I've decided, though, that I'm never spending money again. Except for rent. And tuition. And food. And insurance. And. And. And.
Anyway, about the article: There were suggestions in that article that I should probably do. For example, looking for activities in the community. I should do that; Provo library probably has stuff I could do; the newspapers should, also. Of course, I can't do a lot of those things (e.g. get a Provo library card) until I become an official Provo resident- which should be in the fall when I have to update my last name and change my Driver's license to Utah...sad day.
But anyway, from here on out, I have to do adult things. I might as well be involved, eh?
Thursday, June 15, 2006
For the first time ever, I edited Wikipedia. It was something small, really. When you searched for "eon" under the heading "eon may mean:" the last two entries said that an eon was a million years, when really it's a billion years. Hooray for correct information! And Wikipedia!
Sitting down and trying to type up a paper for Dr. Forcade has made me realize only one thing: I don't know anything about what I've been researching for the past 9 months. I could describe it to you, I could prove theorems about it, but I cannot, for the life of me, type up an article to send in for publication.
I think that my biggest fear concerning it is that I won't make sense to other mathematicians and that they'll sense my undergraduate-ness. All of them and their PhD's- one look at this paper and they'll go, "hogswater!" but I guess everybody has to be an undergraduate at some point.
It only lasts four years...
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Today I came across the most beautiful thing: a random word generator. I thought I'd look for one, and Lo! there one was! Try it! I plan on it when I run into writer's block.
I wish I could describe how I felt when that came up on my screen. It was like a great weight was lifted off my shoulders and I no longer had to be creative on my own: machines can do it for me!
Monday, June 12, 2006
Today's pun happened in Algebra class.
Dr. Tolman (to the class): Math is something you have to do all in your head. You can't touch numbers.
Me (interjecting): I don't know. I met one the other day.
Me (conceding): Well, it was a little odd...
Friday, June 02, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
I wrote letters to my US Senators of Illinois today concerning the Marriage Protection Amendment asking them to advocate the motions towards this amendment. I feel like sharing it now:
Thank you for representing the people of Illinois. I'm from Cary, a suburb of northwest Chicago, and am currently going to school in Utah.
I am writing to ask you to ratify the motions towards the Marriage Protection Amendment.
First, I feel that it is appropriate to protect marriage in general. Chicagolandmarriage.org states, "Children of single parents are more likely to engage in high-risk relationships and high-risk behaviors at an earlier age, than children raised by a married mother and father.... Over one-third of all cohabiting relationships involve children. These children are at greater risk to be physically and/or sexually abused, and they are more likely to repeat the high risk relationship behaviors of their parent(s)." Promoting marriage is essential for the welfare of future generations.
Second, we need to protect the traditional man/woman marriage relationship. Children need to be born into a family with both a father and a mother, and to do that, well, they need to be born. The male and female are meant to complement each other, a yin and a yang. It creates balance for the family as each parent brings a different perspective to the table. Marriage is, and has historically and culturally been, between a man and a woman and this is essential for society. The structure of society is built on the smaller units of family and families are the product of marriages between men and women. If we are going to improve society, we are going to need to improve and protect marriage.
If marriage is no longer protected as between a man and woman, else, what is it then? Being loose about this matter diminishes the importance and sacredness of marriage. Marriage is not simply a civil agreement, but it is a promise between man and a woman and God to take care of each other, to promote love and friendship, and to bring children into this world. Are these not good things? Are these not things that Illinois and the United States needs to stand for? Please be an advocate for this amendment. Please be an advocate for a solid future for Illinois and America.
Thank you, and I trust that you will make a good decision concerning this issue,
and my name went here.
That's all I have to say for the moment. There may be more politically-angled posts in the future, but I will not stop writing on miscellaneous topics. I promise that.
Friday, May 26, 2006
I believe in pencils. I really do. Pencils just might be the most wonderful writing utensils on the face of the planet. Of course, I'm going to be picky about my pencils and request that the pencil be wooden. I don't believe in mechanical pencils. As far as I'm concerned, they do not exist.
Wooden pencils are about the experience. The feel of the wood, the colors of the cartoon frogs so nonchalantly painted on, the rubberyness of the eraser, the smudges on the side of your hand, and, most importantly, the smell of a freshly sharpened pencil.
That smell...that smell...it brings you back, don't you think? To second grade, to math team competitions in highschool. Yesiree, you can get quite nostalgic over a pencil. I know I do. I think that from now on, until I die, I shall never buy a mechanical pencil. It is blatantly wrong to allow your hand to be smudged without the smell of pine. I also do not think I shall ever buy a pen, unless of course I need to write checks. I will use pen only for forms and never for math or writing. With a pencil, you can get lost in the moment. You cannot do that with a pen, so unforgiving to pressure and shading. Yes. I say, wooden pencils with a little pink (or orange or green or well, any color) eraser have a beautiful place in my heart and pencil jar.
And of course, you don't need a pocket protector for pencils. It's amazing! Wow. That just blows my mind.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
It's only May. Can you believe it? School's been out for a while now. We've gone and come back from Chicago and I've been working fulltime for a while now. It's summer, but it's only May.
And I haven't even gone swimming yet. Ok I take that back. I've done some laps in the evening, but not in the day with the sun and the hot girls sunbathing. It's summer, but I haven't even done anything summery.
This has got to change.
This weekend, I'm buying sunscreen.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
During the last post, I mentioned that I have a real job now.
I can give you more reasons why it's realy besides the cubicle.
- We had a meeting with the people who are funding us and I went to an official lunch with the said people.
- I took home 4 manilla folders yesterday so that I could work while McKay made dinner. There's a role reversal if I never saw one. I wasn't very happy with it either. Frankly, I'd rather be cooking than going through patents.
- The department is sending me to Park City for 4 days in July for a training class. Imagine that: a business trip.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
I work in an office and have a desk job. At first, I thought it would be fun to have a little cubicle all to myself.
Gray walls, white ceiling. Computer staring at me with flickering eyes.
It's a good job, but the windowless corner of the Clyde building is needing something...like a tree.
My new boss was so quick to point out all the "good" traits of the office. There's a refridgerator and a microwave. And there's scenic pictures on the walls. But working eight to five is a hard thing. I think I'm actually busier now than during the school year. Go figure.
And there's a huge report due next Tuesday because the people funding us are coming down then.
And my boss doesn't know my name.
He keeps calling me "Heidi."
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
In the famous words of Strong bad, "It's over!"
Hooray. I took my last two finals yesterday and did all types of crazy stuff. I returned stuff to the mall, got my dress altered, sold my textbooks back. I need to clean my room, though. Stupid room. It can't stay clean longer than 13 seconds.
Anyway, I won't be posting this weekend because McKay and I are going to Chicago so he can meet my parents. It's going to be quite the busy weekend.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
is real life.
It is my firm belief that Star Wars had most accurately demonstrated what the last week of school is like:
Time is short.
The walls are closing in,
And you are just trying to climb over the rubbish of the semester,
But there's a slimy monster called GPA out to get you,
And your only hope is that a little computer will change it all.
Let's all pray that BYU's grading system fails in 3...2...1...
Thursday, April 13, 2006
I never thought that the idea of losing "Moore" as a last name would be saddening.
But it is. And it became increasingly apparent today.
Today, Dr. Forcade presented our research at the Colloquium for the grad students and faculty of the math department here. I was on the list as co-author, so I came to show my support and watch my research appear on the board. This is much different from when I gave the presentation last month. It's a whole new experience to have someone else present for you. Honest.
So Dr. Forcade had some overhead transparencies. He went through the history of the problem labelling the important people who had worked on it: D. D. Wall, D. W. Robinson, D. Bailey, Sun & Sun, etc.
And then, he got to the present day. And there it was:
And then I stopped breathing. There I was mentioned with all these great men. My name. My initial (you know you're a mathematician when you use initials instead of names).
Later on in the talk, Dr. Forcade presents our main theorem. It's labelled:
Theorem (Forcade, Moore)
Isn't that beautiful? Moore is a really great last name, I think. It looks elegant. It looks refined. It looks mathy. You can trust a person whose name is Moore. Look at it. Solid beginning, solid ending. No frills. This person is the real thing. Many brilliant people carry that name. I'm not brilliant, but with a name like Moore, people sure will believe it.
And then I realized it. After August 19, my name will be Moore no more. The solidity, the unmoving genius that comes with "Moore"-- all gone.
Dr. Forcade and I are writing a paper to be published. It'll (hopefully) be ready for publication in June. It won't be published in June, just submitted for publication and it'll be submitted under Moore. It may happen that when it's published, I'll be a Farley. Can you imagine the terror? Here I am going by two names in the mathematical world. You can't do that. It's just not done. How will people trace your work to you? How will MathSciNet remember you?
And this is why women don't go into math.
It comes down to this: I'm going to take McKay's name when I get married because I've always imagined doing that. It's right for me.
But I mourn the loss of "Moore." It really is a good name. And it's been me for a score of years. And I'm going to miss it. I'm sorry. "H. Moore" nor "H. R. Moore" will ever become a real mathematician. The person who I am right now, and have been all my life will never be a mathematician. H. Moore's dreams, H. Moore's aspirations die on August 19.
But I guess H. R. Farley can dream.
Monday, April 10, 2006
The other day, I was drinking some lemonade, but did not have enough for a full glass. So I made some cherry kool-aid and added it to the lemonade...
AND IT TASTED LIKE HEAVEN.
I can't think if a better taste in all the world.
If I were God, the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden would taste like cherry kool-aid and lemonade mixed all together.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Sorry about the lack of updates in the last month or so. If it's the Lord's University, then why are the tests hell?
and don't give me any "opposition in all things rant"
actually, I have 2 ideas for a next post and I've been trying to type them up for a while, except I don't have enough time. When I have time...will be after finals...will be eventually...
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Conference is today and tomorrow at 10am and 2pm Mountain Standard Time. To listen, click here.
It's offered in these languages:
For the full list of languages, click here.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Today, I am going to praise the semicolon; in fact, I am going to use it as much as possible. The wonderful thing about semicolons is that you can use them whenever you feel like it; actually, that's false.
Why is it that the semicolon has such a poor name? Let's look at the colon: the colon is two dots. The semicolon is a dot and a comma, which we all know uses more graphite to write and will deplete your ink cartridge faster. Then why is it called semicolon? It's a whole colon, and then some. The colon is a semi-semicolon. It lacks the tail of the semicolon. If I were the semicolon, I would demand a proper name. In fact that name would be "Colon to the max and then some". Can you imagine your seventh grade teacher telling you that you used the "colon to the max and then some" incorrectly? Yeah. Isn't that great?
My favorite aspect of the semicolon is that it links related whole sentences together, but it doesn't require that pesky comma that has twenty million rules; it just works. It's beautiful and it lengthens your sentences to sound smarter. That's how I got through high school.
Sadly, the semicolon has a double life. It's wonderful and beautiful, and then it has a dark side....
What is it with programming and semicolons? I admire its(programming's) ability to allow people to recognize the existence and use of the semicolon, but why, WHY, did you go to the dark side? Don't you realize that even though you, semicolon, are used in every line, that they are misusing you and putting you to work for dark forces? It's propaganda, that's what that is. They're lying to you, telling you "oh you're so wonderful, we use you so often, in fact, programs won't compile without you." But really, with their diet cokes and twinkies in a dark basement, they are stripping you of your real purpose. Do not let them. Fight the power. You do not have to be at the mercy of geeks. WE do not have to be at the mercy of geeks. GEEKS, YOU WILL NOT TAKE US!
And I, like the semicolon, follow the geeks, hand in hand, to the basement. And I partake of the vending machine icecream...
(that's for you, McKay)
Saturday, March 25, 2006
I've noticed that I haven't put anything cool up in a while. Sadly, I have nothing cool to say. I guess I could talk about my life; do you think that would be too self-centered?
My life consists of 3 (main) things: homework, research, engagement. Other things exist in my life, but my mind is mostly consumed by those. Homework isn't all that interesting. I had a huge test this week and I'm hoping that I did well on it. Actually, now that I think about it, that test is why I haven't written anything. All I did all week was study. Wow.
Research is going well. Forcade and I are going to start writing a paper after the semester ends. We'll do research until the end of the semester and then stop there and publish. Cool, huh?
Ok. Last thing: engagement.
First I want to address the quickness of my engagement. I know I have friends back at home that read this and are thinking, "She met him last August, started flirting/chatting last Thanksgiving, started dating in December and then got engaged in February? WHAT?! AND GETTING MARRIED THIS SUMMER?!"
It might seem fast, but really it wasn't. I never felt rushed at all. It all worked very well and fit very well. I didn't see myself married for another summer, but when the right one comes along, you oughtn't pass up the opportunity.
Plans and such: well, I bought the dress and slip and bra (they're all in my closet as I write this!). I still need my hat and all the reception stuff. We're going with the 1920s theme: prohibition and fedoras. And cool jazz music. And for those of you who think my fedora won't match my dress, well, you're wrong. I can pull it off. I can pull anything off. WATCH ME.
We chose colors (deep purple with turquoise accent) and it'll be in August. The two most likely dates are August 29(30, maybe?) or early August around 8/9 or maybe even 15/16. Ok. That's more than 2 dates. I have it seperated in my head as late August and early August. That's why I said 2. It depends on school and such and research.
Well, that's it for now. I'll write something interesting later. Honest.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Everything I did last week that I've never done before:
- gave a lecture to math people
- had limade
- drove McKay's car
- do all of my homework on time
- skipped class this semester (it was D&C)
- bought more than $5 from the vending machines in a day
- returned 2 books to the library in one week
- scream on command
- finished reading the Princess Bride to McKay
- cuddled with Jacob (McKay's roommate, and it was innocent, honest. In fact he was the one cuddling with me)
- broke up with Jacob
- wrote McKay 5 love notes
- received 4 love notes from McKay
- bought my wedding dress
- bought a bra at Victoria's Secret
- did my own taxes
- curled my hair with warm curlers
- wore pigtails (well, first time since 2nd grade)
- received a real diamond ring from a boy (I've never worn a real diamond before)
- had a migraine that only lasted one day
- made broccoli casserole
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
"Beware of the Ides of March..."
And in the spirit of paranoia and not trusting anyone, here's a poem I wrote:
When I dreamt of being a gentleman
As a lad, but 12 years old
I played my manor had a library
Filled with books all bound in gold.
And I will have read every single book Whom shall a man trust when he is alone
That rests alone with the dust
So each one will now and always be
My confidant whom I trust.
In his doings? You might say,
“His brothers, his friends, his pastor, his wife.”
And if you were right, I may.
Whom shall a man trust when he is alone
But brothers will readily take your life
To gain more your father’s wealth-
With their fingers crossed, they take the red wine,
And toast goodness to your health.
Friends- what friends, pals, chums, or buddies-what else?
The lads your meet at the bar?
Beneath the face lies Benedict Arnold.
They are but fiends with an “r”.
Your pastor? Oh, that stout Godly man!
Whose sermons are ever heard.
Gives only one advice to his children,
Tis this: read more of the Word.
Of our wives and lovers: cursed women!
All they have is their good looks
Nothing in their minds at all, Thus therefore,
My son, keep your mind to books.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Happy pi Day!
And Happy Birthday to Einstein!
And since we're on the topic of math and research, I've just found out today more information about the Research Conference.
I will be presenting this Saturday, March 18 in room 363 of the Thomas L. Martin Builind (MARB) at 9:30 am. My topic is the Pisano Periods and the talk will go for15 minutes (they only give us quarter hour time slots). I'll record it on a microcassette and I'll write it up for those of you who want a copy (like you, Mom). The official paper will probably be sent for publication this spring (I hope.)
So yes. What do I do?
"If we knew what we were doing, it wouldn't be called research, now would it?"-Albert Einstein
Monday, March 13, 2006
Ok. Warning. This is politcally fired. I didn't mean it to be. Megan was asking me if I knew any good war hymns and I said, "Battle Hymn of the Republic" (insert a pause) "-an." And suddenly it dawned on me: I need to write up a Battle Hymn of the Republican.
Ok. It starts off anti conservative. I know I know. Actually, I don't mind the conservatism. I think it's good in some aspects. Of course, no political party has all the answers (nor do I think that combined, you'll find all the answers).
Anyway, here's the song. I will not say whether or not this reflects my own opinion. (I don't discuss what I vote for.) The stanzas just kind of fit, you know?
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the reigning GOP;
They are trampling out the little man (and will do it for a fee);
They are loose upon the country, with a few in the cities.
The WASPs go marching on.
Glory Glory Hallelujah.
Glory Glory Hallelujah.
44% of Hispanics* added to ya.
The WASPs go marching on.
Bush sounded for the trumpet, (though some called for retreat);
To march into the Middle East with bombs and added heat.
Now a little later, Saddam finally beat,
The WASPs go marching on.
But we can't forget the little things that we don't mind are right.
For pro-life, bearing arms, and lower taxes, they will fight.
Good on paper, but, oh well: No Child Left Behind.
The WASPs go marching on.
*Bush won 44% of the Hispanic vote in 2004.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
"911. What is your emergency?"
"I can't move my neck."
"Ok. How did this happen?"
"He kissed me good night."
"We'll be right over."
So last night, McKay walks me back to my place and we spend a little time outside the door before I go in (you know, the goodnight kiss part). So we stand there and stand there and there I am looking up at him. We get to the kiss.
And you know what? After standing there looking up at him and then kissing him, my neck hurts. Bad. You see, when a girl is kissed, she lifts her head up to connect with the guy. Holding that position for long periods of time (or short periods of time when it's far too late to even move) strains her neck.
She can try everything, turning her head to the other side, tippy-toeing to relieve the angle of kissing. It does not work.
Guys: they don't know this. They just have to lean down a little bit. Plus, they don't get what the girl's doing. They don't get that the girl is in no way thinking about the kiss, but instead is thinking, "Oh! My neck. This is really hurting. He doesn't seem to notice. Maybe if I move my head this way...No that didn't work. Back to the original position. This hurts like an umbrella. And I hope this kiss ends soon because if it doesn't, my neck will be stuck in this position for the next 2 months. Ok. How about now? Or now? Please stop kissing me!"
Except she can't really say that. She has to keep up the "I'm really enjoying this" attitude.
The saddest part of this is that she's really too distracted to kiss well. Honest. Because her mind is worried about the state of her neck, there's no way she's worried about the state of her lips. Quality is greatly lost. (and the really sad part is that the guy doesn't even notice that the kiss is half par)
You may be right, my friend. It might be the girl's fault for straining her neck. It is more common than not that a girl choses a guy who is taller than her. If she just kissed shorter guys, this wouldn't be a problem.
Except, my guy friends, can you imagine walking a girl to her apartment and then kissing up? And girls, here comes the goodnight kiss and you have to kiss down. The situation is slightly...awkward. Of course there are couples in thie world where the heights are reversed, but on average guys are just taller than girls.
And as the paramedics fasten the neck brace on, you breathe a sigh of relief and swear you will never kiss again.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Ok. I think I'm going to keep this picture for a while. I know McKay has to change his website each time I change mine (really he doesn't, but he does anyway) and I'm afraid that storing all those hat pics are going to take up more space than he can use. By the way, McKay, you can delete the old ones from your files if you'd like. That might save space, too.
That wasn't very exciting, was it? Ok. One...two...three...
What's more exciting than enchiladas? If you can come up with something more exciting than enchiladas, post a comment.
Friday, March 03, 2006
This past Monday, we received a lecture on feminist analysis of literature. It was a very good lecture. It's really fascinating to have a BYU spin on feminism. I, of course, believe in equality of the sexes.
It's strange, especially now that I'm getting married and I have to look at the family relationships. Men and women are wired differently (but we've known that for a while, haven't we?) For example, I'm deathly afraid of my future in-laws. I've never met them and here I am marrying and taking their son away. I've met his brother and talked on the phone with most of them. I'm not afraid of the siblings or the siblings' spouses and children. Nor am I even afraid of his father. I'm a girl, I can win over a father.
But it's his mother that I'm afraid of. You see, at least for me, to throw myself into that relationship is slightly scary. I'm nervous everytime I talk to her on the phone. I'm nervous about meeting her in May. Why? Because acceptance from the matriarchal figure is important to me, as a girl. I want to be accepted into the little "clan" of women that include his mother and sisters and sisters-in-law and the way to do that is through his mother. And if I don't receive that approval, my married life will be hell. Scary.
But guys. Guys on the other hand aren't worried about being accepted by the "clan" of men. They just need a father's acceptance and to be able to joke around with brothers and all. That's it. And sometimes they'll get along without all that.
Alas, my lack of a Y-chromosome. This would be so much easier. Or not. If I were a guy, I'd be obligated to marry a woman, and that, I could not do. I'm glad the marrying of women is left for the men to do.
Anyway, where were we? Feminism. Ok. My favorite part of the lecture was this:
She starts talking about some class here at BYU where they look at gender and sex and the impact on a person's life. She states that at the beginning they usually ask the class to list all stereotypes of men and women, all good and bad. Usually looking like this:
Men: athletic, proud, simple, courageous,violent, tempered, loud, strong, etc, etc.
Women: weak, compassionate, kind, motherly, catty, frivolous, stupid, etc etc
See? with everything good and bad.
Then they divide up the good and bad characteristics so that you get four lists: good qualities of men, good qualities of women, bad qualities of men, bad qualities of women.
And then it gets good.
Then, they ask for the class to come up with the qualities of Christ. What's fascinating is that Christ, except for usually strength, has all of the good qualities of women. It's as if the ideal man that we are trying to become is the ideal woman. Christ is an example of how men can be kind and compassionate and well, feminine, while still being masculine and without being effiminate.
How's that for a twist on feminism? It's a feminist idea because it puts the good qualities of women as the ideal, but yet it embraces the mother, the compassion, the kindness and mercy of women, which is not something that you think of when you think of feminism.
Bizarre? Yes. Do I like it? Yes.
Well, anyway, that's what I thought about that lecture. There were so many good parts of that lecture. Studies of the man as a demon and as a god, contrasting to studies of woman as a demon and as a goddess. Fruit flies versus elephants. Fatherhood, motherhood, priesthood.
Wonderful. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
You know you're in the big leagues when you're the 3rd one down in a google search.
Google "pisano periods". My abstract is in google's third position (out of 280,000). Booyah! It's like I'm almost the foremost authority on the subject. Almost.
Only MathWorld and Wikipedia beat me.
We're takin' it to the man. All the way up.
Ok. side note. When I've done the search on a mac, the above is what happens.
On a Windows computer, I'm second from the top out of 151,000. Strange, eh? What's with that anyway?
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Characters: Professor, male, age 80.
Student, female, age 22.
Scene : The office of a very old professor. On the left there is a desk piled with papers and folders, behind is a bookcase overgrown with books and more papers. Center stage, slightly to the right, there is a chalkboard and, placed on the chalk tray, there is some chalk for later use. The scene opens with the professor in a brown or gray suit going through articles in his briefcase-strange statues that look like idols, a rubiks cube, an abacus, other various items, a slinky.
(knock at the door)
Prof: Yes? come in.
Entering stage right is a girl, with about 15 books in her arms. Her dress is simple and modest, gray. Her hair is pulled back. Let her wear tennis shoes.
Prof: Yes? He puts the slinky down. It falls causing all great amount of noise.
St (reluctantly): I've been...reading. A book falls.
P: Oh dear. Shakes his head and paces, staring at the ground. I'm sorry to hear that. Reading's no good. you'll get all kinds of thoughts and ideas. It'll confuse you.
Another book falls from her pile.
St: Yes, Professor. that's it exactly. I've been reading and it's made me think.
P: You've done the right thing to come to me . Still pacing. We can't have you all confused. that's why we have professors. if we could trust everyone to think on their own and not get confused, we wouldn't need professors, now would we?
St: No sir...[beat] That makes so much sense. I feel less confused already.
The professor circles his desk.
P: Now, let's answer your question. Let me tell you how to think.
St: My question...my question... oh yes. I was reading a book... [beat] What is the meaning of Little Miss Muffet?
P: Oh. Hmm. This is a hard one. He walks to the chalkboard. Let's find out what it says by knowing what it does not say. Student nods. The professor picks up a piece of chalk and writes "Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet eating her curds and whey." He pauses before he adds the rest. "Along came a spider and sat down beside her and frightened Miss Muffet away." Let's start with the first bit.
St: Little Miss Muffet?
P: Exactly. Now to understand Little Miss Muffet, we need to understand what she is not. Can you tell me what she is not? What is the opposite of Little Miss?
St: Um... Another book falls.
P: Let me help you. Can you think of something that has no traits whatsoever in common with Muffet? A...pen for example?
St: That's right. Little Miss Muffet is definately different than a pen. A book falls.
P: Her exact opposite, I would say.
St: Why, yes.
P: So the first line is not saying "Caligraphy pens." Right?
P: Ok. We've got a good start at knowing the real meaning of this poem. He crosses out the first line. What's next?
St: Sat on her tuffet.
P: Good! Although we discourage it, you are becoming a very good reader. Be careful of that. So Muffet is on her tuffet. What is she not doing? The Student gives a blank stare. I see this is going to take some time. What would happen to her if she sat on her tuffet in a pool?
St: Well, she'd sink.
P: Correct. So we obviously know that she is not in the pool. Therefore the poem is not saying "Caligraphy pens in a swimming pool."
St: You're right!
P: Of course I'm right. Now a few more lines. He marks off what they've done so far.
St: Eating her curds and whey.
P: This is trickier. What if she didn't sink to the bottom?
St: I don't know.
P: Well, her curds and whey would make her fat and she would sink. Right?
St: Of course!
St: So...she's obviously not floating.
P: Bravo! Magnifique! He claps his hands together and states slowly: Caligraphy pens in a swimming pool float on the surface.
St: Yes! They do! In the excitement, she drops the rest of her books on the ground.
P: See?! Is it coming clear?
St: I do see! Can I try the next one?
P: Go ahead. It's "along came a spider."
St: Well, you can't eat spiders, but you can eat popsicles, so the opposite of spider is popsicle.
P: Good. Good. You're doing wonderfully.
St: The the next line does not say, "But when a popsicle falls."
P: Amazing! You are a fine student. Try "And sat down beside her."
St: Sat down beside her...well, sitting down is a verb, and a newspaper is a noun, and I don't think people eat curds and whey at Central Park, so...
P: Yes? Yes? The professor is excited, egging the student on.
St: The next line must clearly not mean "On a newspaper in Central Park."
P: We're almost done. Soon it will be all clear to us!
St: Ok! She is almost jumping up and down. And frightened Miss Muffet away. So I was thinking Professor...
P: Didn't I warn you about thinking?
St: Well, yes, but I was thinking. It might actually be brilliant. I was thinking...that the opposite of Miss Muffet is not only a pen, but also a clock.
P: I don't know if you can do that. Things can't have two opposites, you know. That's why they're opposites.
The student bites the end of a pencil.
St: Well, girls don't stop. Clocks do, though. So in that way, maybe they are opposites.
P: That sounds good.
St: So therefore, the last line is "All clocks stop."
P: What do we have then?
St (carefully): Caligraphy pens in a swimming pool float on the surface, but when a popsicle falls on a newspaper in Central Park, all clocks stop.
P: Excellant! We've found the meaning...or the anti-meaning. You could say. We've come up with everything that Little Miss Muffet was not saying.
St: Yes. We have.
P: But then, what was Little Miss Muffet saying?
Student pauses in thought.
St: Little Miss Muffet is saying that...(with a suddent burst of excitement) to NOT drop caligraphy pens in a swimming pools or popscicles on newpapers!
St: It makes sense! It makes sense!
St: Oh Thank you. I never would have known without you.
P: That is why I'm hear, my dear.
The student runs out stage right with a few more shouts of excitement. When she is gone, the professor waits a few seconds and then picks up her books and places them on the bookcase behind his desk. He turns around to the audience, but stares into his briefcase again and picks up the slinky.
P: Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great...
Curtain closes abruptly.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
(and it is a good cause)
So McKay and I are going to be married. He proposed officially last night after calling my father last Saturday for permission. The left menu bar has a link to the flash presentation that he made for me. I'll add more details later. I have a busy day.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
So Anthropology was so boring that I had time to write a short poem that I've been thinking about for a few days:
Rachmaninoff, the pianist
wrote concertos left and right.
Trying to watch his fingers
on the keys black and white.
And here I practice Theme A
and now to Theme B
While, once it was key of D major,
Now in Ellemenopee.
The one's sharp- another flat
One is sharp to the third.
It's a mess on paper,
but organized when heard.
I'm sure if he meant anything,
I'm sure that he meant well.
I can't really blame Maninoff
for my accidental hell.
I'm officially on the list to present at the Research Conference next March. My abstract can be found here. I'm currently typing up the paper for the talk. It's going to be a party!
Dr. Forcade's advice for the Conference:
"An abstract is exactly what it sounds like: abstract."
"For the first 6 minutes or so of our talk, keep it simple so that they actually feel like they're following you. Then blow them away."
Dr. Forcade is wonderful, isn't he?
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Trampolines are amazing, aren't they?
It is my firm belief that if you gave everyone with manic depression a trampoline, they couldn't be sad. Remember the last time you were on a trampoline. You smiled right away, right? I know. It's a reflex. Trampoline=fun.
If I were God, I would have made a planet made completely out of trampolines. And then, when I was bored, I'd go jump for a while.
In fact, if I were God, I would have made Kolob completely out of trampolines.
Why? Heck the why not.
Monday, February 13, 2006
(because we were so misunderstood in middle school)
I was talking to McKay the other day and he mentioned reading that one poem of mine that I posted under "Sunday School." That one is pretty much the sappiest poem I ever wrote. Hooray for 8th grade poetry. So, I've decided that I've got enough sappy poetry that I could post another junior high wonder. Here we go!
To the Sir whom I will meet:
My sir-when you and I were young,
More young than we are now.
Far younger than the suckling babe
Or the newborn fattling cow
Before this earth was made by God
When dark and light were one.
We walked with cherubs of heaven
Where all the hues of love were one
I knew you then, we planned to meet We parted each to our own ways
One day so we could walk
Again with cherubs in the sky
To sing and dance and gaily talk.
And left the heavens’ song
To be born on this mortal earth
Why must our parting be so long?
Good sir- do remember our oath!
And with each day renew
This promise we gave the other
My love, I say, be true! Be true!
We parted each to our own ways
Be wary! For the world would like
For you to lose your way.
Be courteous and gallant, chaste,
With honesty in all you say.
And I do hold to my good word:
I will stand in virtue,
Love, I will save myself for you.
And if you didn't get the disclaimer above, I was in middle school when I wrote it. I was rather Molly Mormon-y for a while. What happened? No idea.
Friday, February 10, 2006
So I haven't posted in a while, and that's because midterms are this week and next and I've been pretty busy.
So I was cleaning up the other day and I found this list. It was my to do list last semester when I was really stressed. I'm really not suicidal, but it makes me feel better to put it in a list.
clean room, go to store, go through notebooks
doresume and turn it in
do 315 homework
study 371- do 371 homework
do liny alg for next week
write essays for next week
read the BOM
work on theorem- check website and Forcades
practice the piano
die again (jumping off of SWKT)
write "how to"
die once more (drowning)
go to bed
don't wake up
write to Grandma, Jared, Andrew
get caught up in the rapture
write thank you note for teacher recommendations
run away to Vermont
write to Vermont
get in the way of the Cherubs guarding Eden
die by flaming sword
Friday, February 03, 2006
When I walk to campus, I approach it from the west, almost directly facing the Tanner Building. The Tanner Building is a strange one. From the inside, it is spacious with plenty of natural light, filled with suits and ties and laptops. However, from the outside, it has always looked a little funny. It's gray and rectangular and gray and gray and...
I can not tell a lie: the Tanner building looks like a cinder block.
It's as if God decided to throw a cinder block into the middle of campus so that everytime he walks through Provo, he'll stub his little toe.
And I can't say I blame him.
I mean, if I were God, I'd stub my toe on a cinder block everyday.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Sometimes you just have those days...
Those days that you want to be in Illinois to celebrate a holiday. No one in Utah celebrates St. Patrick's Day or Casimir Polaski Day.
And they definately don't know how to properly celebrate Groundhog Day.
Yes. That's right. What does a Chicago girl know about a German Pennsylvanian holiday? If I could, I'd drive half an hour from my home town to Woodstock and show you Groundhog Day.
I've been there. To the movie theater, to the square where the Groundhog Day celebrations took place, even, yes, to the puddle that Bill Murray stepped in.
So here's a shout out to all of the people who are going to celebrate this day right: SELL SOME INSURANCE!
And for those of you who are actually going to Woodstock today, you can pick up maps of where to find everything in the courthouse. Sadly, the puddle for Bill Murray was created by removing some cobblestones in the street, which they promptly repaired, but when they filled it back up, they put a plaque there.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
So yesterday, I was reading G.H.Hardy's A Mathematician's Apology, and in it, he tries to attempt to explain what a beautiful math proof looks like. In the end, he basically says that you know it when you see it. It reminded me of a Justice Potter Stewart's comment on pornography that "I'll know it when I see it."
And then it came to me.
The worst analogy ever.
"Good math is like pornography: I know it when I see it."
It's terrible, isn't it?
Becuase really, good math is not like porn. At all. Good math is wonderful. Porn is degrading.
So that's today's "Worst analogy ever."
If any of you can come up with a good "worst analogy ever" (and keep it clean or I'll remove your comment), let me know. Maybe the winner will get something special...
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
JACK BROWN...Continued from last November I know! I know! It's a little late. And by "little" I mean "very"
"I want to go over your research and check up on your thesis sometime, Jack. How's next Wednesday at four?"
"Good. I'll see you then." Dr. Moore smiled. "Looks like you have some papers to grade this weekend."
"Yeah." I fake a smile. That pile on my desk won't give up. It's even started to digest the carpet on the floor.
He leaves. I get up and grab my leftover spaghetti and take it to the microwave. My thoughts go to Miss Hendrickson. It's a shame that such a lovely woman should be so distraught.
I look at the clock. Two o'clock. I have a class at seven tonight. Now would be a good time to take a break and check out this "Math Lab."
The doors of the Math Lab are kept open. there are all kinds of papers on the windows. Need a tutor? Adopt a TA! Math Lab Hours M: 8-4 T-F: 8-9 S: 8-1. TA of the week!
There are signs hanging from the ceiling directing which tables are reserved for which classes. I step into the room and the heat takes over. No wonder they keep the doors open. There is a little room on the left with a couple of students in it. It looks quieter in there.
I start wondering around, bumping into a few students with blue vests on. Sitting down at an "Advanced Math" table, I prop my leg up and lean back, watching the students click their mechanical pencils and dusting eraser remains on my shoes.
There are rectangular vents spread throughout the room, and one has caught a girl's skirt. She struggles to move her chair in the cramped space.
There is a strange pounding noise coming through the vent.
"Hey." I try to catch that girl's attention. What's the noise from the vent?
"They're working down there. I don't know exactly."
"Yeah. There's a basement."
"Oh. I guess that makes sense."
"What class are you in?"
"Oh. Um." I realized I must have looked strange, with my lack of book and paper. "I'm just hanging out in the Math Lab. For fun."
"Okay...You know, you'll find cuter girls in the Periodicals."
"So I hear." I decide that this conversation is over and I stand up to leave. "Yeah. I'll try there, I think."
It takes me a while to finally get out of the door. The Talmage building has comfortable benches in the foyer, so I rest my eyes there.
A basement, eh?
(to be continued...)
Ooh...And having nothing to do with Jack Brown, Petra, THE Petra from the 100 Hour Board commented on my blog. It's like a sign...or something. Well, in all, it's kind of cool. And Petra, I didn't mean anything of it all. It was just a good leap for an entry.
Monday, January 30, 2006
So I was reading the One Hundred Hour Board this morning and I came across this question. I liked the response, as I think it is accurate insomuch as the relation to the seventh cousin/spouse thing. However, Petra's phrase
7th cousins? That's nothing. For heaven's sake, we're Mormons: everyone is related on at least that level. (Or, at least, all BICs.)
excluded me. She then continues to act that she's not being presumptuous. Petra, Petra, Petra. I'm Mormon and I am definitely not related to anyone in Utah, as my parents are both converts and have no family on this side of the Mississippi. Petra, I'm not upset, really. It's understandable and you tried your best; that's all we ask. I don't think any less of you.
So let me tell you something about us second-gen Mormons. We've heard stories. We've heard great and terrible stories about the "Utah Mormons" and these terrify us. There are stories of "fetchers" and "fry sauce" and...and...Green-Jello-with-Carrots-and-Potatoes-in-it-Eating-Mutants.
So we come. We come to BYU to save you all. Your inbreeding of pioneer stock has to end. So we come, over the Mississippi to take you back to the East where you first came from. We are mutant-free, hoping for a mutant-free Utah. We're doing this for you. Don't we sound so charitable? (insert sly smile here)
And we aren't afraid of the repercussions.
Oh, mothers of Utah, we've come to take your sons away and marry them, carry them back over the Mississippi where you won't see them again until they're 30. And your grandchildren...heh...you can give up the hope of being able to trace their geneology back to Brigham Young twice. You'll get once, and then you'll get a tenth great-grandfather who assassinated the king of England. Yes murderous blood, treacherous blood, but sweet, none the less...
Written by TopHat at 7:34 AM
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Welcome to my fiftieth post!
Last semester, I used to eat icecream sandwiches a lot. They're only 50 cents in the Talmage Building vending machines, you see. I was in a habit.
And then I learned about Neopolitan icecream sandwiches. And now it's less of a habit and more of an addiction...except I can't say that or else I'll lose my Ecclesiastical Endorsement to go to BYU. So it's not an addiction...it's more of a...fantasy. Fantasy, yes. I fantasize left and right about Neopolitan icecream sandwiches.
There's only one thing I can say: whoever made up the idea of the icecream sandwich was a genius. Kudos to him. And to God for giving him the idea. God is a genius. And...I think he gets his fill of icecream sandwhiches every morning.
Waking up to the golden tone of a celestial alarm clock (and don't tell me they don't sleep in heaven-heaven is sleep-I'll definately sleep some in heaven-ooo-perfect dreams) God puts his fuzzy slippers on, walks downstairs to the sound of birds singing and looks at his wife cooking eggs on the stove.
"Honey, can you grab the Eggos from the freezer?" she asks. (they have Eggos in heaven, too)
So as he reaches for the Eggos (because he's the perfect husband and would do anything for his wife), he sees the Neopolitan icecream sandwiches. He gives her the Eggos, but takes the icecream out, unwrapping the plasticky wrapper and folding it into the perfect origami bird.
mmm...icecream sandwiches...breakfast of the Gods.
God eats icecream sandwiches for breakfast. And I would too. If I were God, I'd eat icecream sandwiches for breakfast everyday and never have to run off the calories.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Note: This is my first attempt ever at free verse poetry. Give me a break.
I saw you on the way to class
with your ruffled skirt and pea coat
struggling in the snow.
Slush: clinging to the edges
of your oversized black heels,
slipping off the soles
as you clod along the street.
Clod along the street!
You have to! You must!
or else your Gucci pumps
would fly right off your feet.
I understand you plight,
to choose fashion over comfort,
but it's snowing for goodness sakes!
Put a real shoe on!
Your clodding on the ground won't hide the fact that you are struggling just to keep your shoes on. Hey! If you wore real shoes with laces, you wouldn't have the problem.
*snap snap snap* and other various beatnik poetry sounds.
(insert bongo drums)
When I woke up yesterday morning, I did not imagine that I would have a new roommate by the end of the night.
But when, at 5:15, there was a knock on the door and Maria was asking to live with us, my plans for the weekend changed. Instead of practicing the piano Thursday night and Friday during the day, I am cleaning my newly-arranged bedroom and getting rid of stuff that I don't need anymore.
In the end it's a good thing. I'll (hopefully) be living away from Provo this summer, and I can't have tons of stuff with me. It's not feasible. And I'm not a big fan of storage.
So here I am today, awaiting the few hours between English class and Algebra to do my laundry and clean my room. Oh. How can I find a place for all my notebooks and papers? How? How?
Also very interesting about last night: My Led Zeppelin poster fell on me while I was asleep. And then I dreamt that I had put it on the ground, but I woke up later to find out that I hadn't. Marilyn Monroe stayed nicely on my wall all night.
Love is a many splendored thing.
Oh- McKay. So I was thinking about something to do tonight, and I realized that I have Play-Doh. So tell your friend that we have Play-Doh available. And it's in awesome colours, too. Ooh. Check out that British/Canadian spelling of "colours." Pretty awesome, eh?
Thursday, January 26, 2006
This is the best information I have on the event at the moment. Dr. Forcade and I are working on some research to submit to the conference. I'll submit the abstract and everything in the next couple of weeks, so you can all find out when I'm presenting. Hooray!
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
In the prayer at the end of the forum today, the girl asked the Lord to help us "think outside the box" because that's what the forum was about. However, I wish to argue that "thinking outside the box," "coloring outside the lines," "stepping over the line," "pushing the envelope" is actually being "in the box." Everyone thinks outside the box or colors outside the lines. If you really want to be a noncomformist, I suggest you try these:
- Integrate a non-continuous function.
- Square a circle
- Trisect an angle
- Use ! as a ?
- Type a cent sign.
- Play a 13-lettered word in Scrabble
- Explain string theory to a child (age 7).
- Hang mistletoe at Easter.
- Drive on the left-hand side of the road.
- Elevate your basement.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
In Sunday School today, they talked about something that reminded me of a poem I wrote in eighth grade. The poem isn't that good, but I'm going to post it anyway.
In the garden of my mind
There is a seed I do not know
It’s new and odd , peculiar, too.
But not yet begun to grow.
I see it now; it grows up tall
As high as the eye can see
But all my other sweet little plants
Are looking brown to me
The more I water, the more they’re hurt
The larger took all the sun
The larger took all the water and dirt
The little ones are done
All that’s left of the garden
Is nothing much to see,
For all that’s left is that plant
The horrible, awful weed.
Friday, January 20, 2006
First, you must be ready the second week in to show off your stuff. This way the illusion hits them fast and hard. Second, participate in class. Listen to what's going on. For example, today they might happen to be discussing formalism in a fish bowl-style setting. While listening, it is best to note what the other students are saying.
For example, "I think the rules just fence-in the creativity; it's art; you can't fence that in," is a good example of a generic English major comment (in fact, it's genuine, too). Watch closely as the other students get in on the conversation.
You may notice, that as a math major, you agree with good form. It's in your blood and this push for free-verse "creative" poetry is rubbing you the wrong way. That's ok. Watch what happens. Come in at the appropriate time.
Yes, this is the single most ridiculous scene you've ever witnessed. This is why you have to beat them. You have to join with their ludicrousness. There's no other way to pull off "genuine English major" well if you don't. Join them. You must. Resistance is futile.
You know what you must do.
Yes. Yes. Untie your shoe. Take it off your foot. Walk to the center of the classroom and place the shoe on the floor. Get down on the floor with the shoe. Watch the shoe. Be the shoe.
It is at this point, that the class's attention will be focussed on you. You must do it this way. You have to show them that you are one of them, not an alien from the School of Physical and Mathematical Sciences. In the background, you will hear a few of them laugh nervously. This is normal. English majors are cautious about letting an outsider in.
Shush them. You hear their nervous laughter? End it. You will not be laughed out. Say your lines clearly now:
Pause for dramatic effect. Stare the shoe down as if your life depends on it.
"It's speaking to me."
And then it'll all happen at once. The room will go quiet. You've just added more with your shoe to their conversation than they did with their five paragraph essays. Now your life is a commentary. A commentary on form. A commentary on modern art, free-verse poetry, and all things abstract.
And this is what it's saying:
Putting something on the ground and saying that it speaks to you, does not make it art. I'll show you free-verse! A free-verse with thoroughly thought-out rhythm and structure.
This has been a message from your local math major. It works. Tried and true. Huzzah!
Thursday, January 19, 2006
I've reached an all-time low. In all seriousness, I cannot think of anything to write about. Well, the Chinese New Year is coming up (year of the monkey), so my New Year's resolution will be to write something good. Yep Yep.
Well, anyway, because of the cinder block called writer's, I've resorted to the worst thing ever. I'ts cliche, it's lame, and no one actually ever reads them: Internet survey thingys:
(this one I mooched from Amanda's blog)
***W O U L D Y O U R A T H E R***
1. pierce your nose or tongue?: I'm afraid to answer this one. What a good start, eh? I'll say nose because a small stud wouldn't be so bad. And I'd rather not get my dentist upset at me about a tongue piercing.
2. be serious or be funny?: How about seriously funny?
3. drink whole or skim milk?: Skim.
***A R E Y O U***
1. simple or complicated: Simply Complicated.
***D O Y O U P R E F E R***
1. flowers or angels?: If one of them were to appear in my room right now, angels definately.
2. gray or black?: That's kind of up in the air, well actually, if it were in the air, I'd prefer a gray sky to a black one.
3. Color or Black and white photos?: Sepia.
4. lust or love?: Love. I mean, honestly.
5. sunrise or sunset?: Either. They don't really have them in Utah. Stupid mountains blocking the sun...
6. M&Ms or Skittles?: M&Ms. I'm not a big fan of candy posing as fruit.
7. rap or rock?: Well, well, well. Rock, although I've heard some good rap, too.
8. staying up late or waking up early?: I want to say waking up early because I get more done, but I do like staying up late on occasion if the company is desirable.
9. eating apples or oranges?: And apple away keeps the doctor away. I have a good orange story, though. I'll share it some time.
***A N S W E R T R U T H F U L L Y***
1. do you like anyone?: yes, I usually like everyone.
2. do they know it?: What do you expect me to do, get on television and announce to the world that I like everyone so that everyone can know it? Come on! I'm a poor college student.
3. are you going out with them?: I'm taken already so I can't start dating the population of the world willy nilly.
4. are you married to them?: I don't think they allow plural marriage in the States, do they? But in case, here is a proposal: World and the people in it, would you all marry me? No? Okay then, I'll be satified with a kiss now and again.
***D O Y O U P R E F E R***
1. being hot or cold?: Like I have a choice? I'm already hot. Preference is not an issue. You can't stop this hotness.
2. sun or moon?: Sun. The moon and I have issues. Stupid full moon...
3. Winter or Fall?: Fall. Winter is nice the first 3 days, but the moment the snow gets all salty and slushy and dirty, pack your bags.
4. left or right?: Choose the right, when a choice is placed before you. Except that I have some tendecies to the left. I'm not talking politics. I find left-handed men strangely attractive sometimes. Ok. I've got weird fettishes. Thank you.
5.having 10 acquaintances or 2 best friends? This is difficult because I really haven't had a "best friend" since 3rd grade. I don't really know what a best friend is like, so how can I prefer one?
6. sun or rain?: Rain. Hard falling, large drops of rain. The kind that standing out in the yard for 15 seconds will leave you drenched in wetness. There isn't a better type of rain to dance in, umbrella-less and fancy-free.
7. vanilla ice cream or chocolate ice cream?: Cookies and cream.
8. vodka or Jack?: Beer, of the root variety.
***A B O U T Y O U***
1.What time is it?: 9:33 am MST
3.Nickname?: "Supreme Queen of all things Awesome or Helicopters" You can't tell I just made that up, can you?
***W H A T D O Y O U W A N T***
1. Where do you want to live?: Celestial Kingdom. Ok. Fine. Chicago. They're practically the same, and once I become mayor of Chicago, she'll be translated anyway. Zion here I come. Anyway, I've always thought about being a guru living on top of a mountain. Hey! I could live on the top of the Sears Tower and people could come up and ask me questions about life like "What's the meaning of spoons?"
2. How many kids do you want?: Now? None. Later? 2. I guess 3 or 4 wouldn't be so bad, though.
3. What kind of job do you want?: The kind that pays me to breathe.
***U N I Q U E***
1. Nervous Habits?: Talking to myself, inanimate objects, biting my nails, fidgeting, interupting the speaker, making good jokes at the the wrong times.
2. Are you double jointed?: No.
3. Can you roll your tongue?: Yes, but I've never rolled sushi.
4. Can you raise one eyebrow?: I raise plenty of eyebrows. You should see me walk home from school. I'm an eyebrow raising maniac.
5. Can you cross your eyes?: Can you cross your T's?
6. Do you make your bed daily?: yes.
***F O O D***
1. Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it?: Twirl. and twirl and whoooop!
2. Have you ever eaten Spam?: No.
3. Favorite ice cream flavor?: Cold.
4. How many kinds cereal are in your cabinet? One.
5.What's your favorite beverage?: Lemonade.
6. What's your favorite restaurant?: Bennigan's...mmm...Monte Cristo...
7. Do you cook?: Not only do I cook, but I can burn my hand doing it. That takes talent, my friends.
***G R O O M I N G**
1. How often do you brush your teeth?: 2-3 times a day.
2. Hair drying method: Get the water out. Isn't that how everyone dries their hair? That's like the definition of drying.
3. Have you ever dyed/highlighted your hair?: Yes. It's currently both red and blond.
***M A N N E R S***
1. Do you swear?: I have, but I don't do it on a regular basis. I try to watch myself.
2. Do you ever spit: No. That's just rude.
3. You cook your own food: Aye, aye, captain.
4. You do your own chores?: Yes. Who doesn't?
5. You got laid today? No. What type of girl do you think I am?
6. You like beef jerky? not so much
7. You like pepsi or coke? Dr. Pepper
8. You plan on going to college? Destination: Achieved.
9. You're happy with your hair? Usually, but today I let it do what it felt like and I'm not so happy with it. That's the last time I allow my hair to have agency.
10. You own a dog? No. But I do own a rubik's cube.
11. You spend your money wisely? Yes, yes I do.
12. You're always making new friends? always? Well, I do have a difficult time making friends while I'm brushing my teeth. I mean, it's not like there's a line of people that I can constantly meet anytime anywhere.
13. You like to swim? Heck yes.
14. You got bored so you call a friend? Not often, but I think I've done that a couple times.
15. You're patient? If by patient you mean "not at all ever patient," yes. I can be patient when I want to be, it's not like I'm hurrying off to die. I can wait for that.
16. You like this survey? Actually, whoever wrote this survey has bad grammar and I'm a little annoyed at the moment.
***LET'S BE HONEST***
In the last month have you...
1. Had sex: No.
2. Bought something: Yes.
3. Gotten sick: Sick? I woke up with swollen lymph nodes on Monday, but it's over now. My sicknesses usually last about 8 hours and then go away and only show up every 3 months at the soonest.
4. Sang: Yes and very well off-key, thank you. I've reached celestial glory in bad singing. You can beam me up now, St. Pete.
5. Been kissed: Yes. I've also been the kisser a few times this past month. Carolyn...you shall not escape me!
7. Felt stupid: Yes.
8. missed someone?: Yes. I miss everyone all the time. I'm missing you right now. Why don't you give me a call or something so there's no more missing?
9. Got drunk: If by drunk, you mean "lemonaded", and by lemonade, you mean "not hard" lemonade, then yes. I get drunk every night. Hooray for lemonade.
10. Gotten high: My current elevation is 4549 feet, although I've flown pretty high in an airplane.
11. Danced crazy: Define crazy.
12. Gotten your hair cut: Yes. And not just one!
13. Watched cartoons: No. Wait. Anime...
14. Lied: This is a false statement.
Last Person that...
1. Slept in your bed: me. it is my bed.
2. saw you cry: seriously cry? I keep that to myself, although God likes to peek in every once and a while.
3. Made you cry: People don't make people cry. Onions make people cry.
4. You Went to the movies with: McKay. No wait. My family during Christmas.
5. You went to the mall with: Myself. I like shopping alone. It's quicker.
7. You went to dinner with: McKay and his brother (+wife) and his best friend (+wife). Ack! I hang with married people!
9. Said 'I love you' to you: My mom? Carolyn? God? I'm not sure exactly.
10. Broke your heart: People don't break hearts, bad situations and miscommunication break hearts.
11. Made you laugh: Actually, I have no idea. I try not to laugh at people. Wait. No I don't. I laugh at everything. Maybe McKay. or Megan.
12. Bought you something: John.
13. Hugged you: McKay Todd Farley.
Have You Ever...
1. Said "I Love You" and meant it: Yes. I mean it every time I say it.
2. Got in a fight with a pet: A pet? peeve? I really don't fight pet peeves. Maybe I should. I think I'll start a pet peeve boxing show. It'll be number one on all the national networks and broadcast over all the world. It'll be the new olympic event.
3. Been to California: No. I haven't. I hear they have a nice variety of fruits and nuts, though. Tee Hee. Oh I really don't mean that, McKay. Well, ok I do. Sort of.
4. Been to Mexico: No. But my roommate has. She's from Mexico. Pretty cool, eh?
5. Been to China: No. Alas, I haven't.
6. Been to Canada: Yes. Hooray for the Niagara Falls. and various train rides.
7. Been to Europe: Yes. Germany.
8. Wished you were the opposite sex: I once had a dream in which I was a boy, but I kind of like being female. Actually I love being female. Girls are prettier. And curvier. And prettier.
9. Snuck out of your house: Yes...
10. Gave money to a homeless person: No. Next time I will. Except I don't carry money on my person. What's the exchange rate for high fives?
11. Surfed: no.
Wait, that's it? That was kind of a disappointing ending. Isn't it supposed to be grandios?
Well, that's it. I'm still battling writer's block, but now you all know about me. Kind of. Except for the fact that I don't like earwigs. And now you know.