Well, its been a miserable kind of day. The rain did not help. I had to walk through the rain to get from the library to the train station and by the time I got on the commuter rail, I was soaked to the skin, and worse, my commuter rail pass was ruined. Completely buggered. I've managed to swindle my way through the system for now, but thank God this happened today, when its only good for one more day. I would be so completely screwed if it had happened earlier. My feet in my shoes felt like puddles for all 2 hrs of class.
New Hampshire was mostly fun. I had a good time in general, could have wished for less rain, though. I must say, the view on the top of Mt. Osceola was picture-card perfect. The most thrilling effect was when a rolling gap in the fog created the effect of a moving camera, so if you kept your eye in the center of the cloud bank, you could watch as the surrounding mountains were slowly revealed. A beautifully limited green and white panorama. Also fun was the invention of Waterwars B.S. Essentially, its just like the cardgame (a.k.a. Bullshit), but with the added bonus that if you are caught in the lie, not only do you have to take extra cards, but you also get hosed with the water gun by the person who called it against you. Needless to say, it was a blast. I highly recommend this game for crowds of at least 5.
I still haven't heard back from the Spanish Consulate, so I'll have to do that tomorrow. Lots to do, sadly, before I go back to Cincinnati. I can only pray for less rain.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Halls of Shahmballah[sic]
I don't know much about Three Dog Night, but I do like this song.
Interesting as that may seem, dear reader, I do promise there is a diamond in that non sequitur rough. I am reading a book called "Tournament of Shadows", which is a detailed account of the Great Game (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Great_Game). I was deeply amused that humanity's history of searching for utopia has firm foundations. The invocation of Paradise in The Divine Comedy in the Middle Ages. The quest for El Dorado by the conquistadores. And most recently, the pursuit of a Paris Hilton-free day of news coverage by modern Americans. Nestled in all of that is how both the British and the Russians duped themselves into thinking their the coveting of Tibet and its environs was part of some national spiritual fulfillment that would come when one of their national heroes discovered fabled "Shamballah". This metamorphosed 150 or so years later into a pop song by an almost forgotten band of the '60's and '70's, wording altered of course to "Shambala". (Look it up, its by Three Dog Night) What all of this is pointing to is that Paris Hilton's next move will be to convert to Buddhism and go in search of "Shamba-thingy." Would that not complete the wheel of history?
Anyway, this is one of those times when I discovered that I actually have something meaningful to type idly about. Although I want to be brief, because my math calls me. The last Harry Potter book was a smash. Perhaps it'll never deserve a place in anyone's collection of the classics, but as a coming of age novel, it was fantastic. Before book 7, I would have said that Severus Snape is the most finely painted character in the series. He certainly seemed the most complex. However, Rowling really surprised me by really giving Albus Dumbledore the depth his character truly deserved, and there were parts of the book that genuinely moved me. Completely worth the hour's wait in line. "Thumbs up!", as Angela would say.
Saturday was Marina's birthday, but we went out on the town on Sunday. It was a great day; like true nerds, we went to see "Whales" at the IMAX and had brunch at a really sweet Jewish delicatessen at Coolidge Corner. We wrapped it up by getting some ice cream injected pastries in the North End.
God, will I miss Brookline. I hope I can live here again someday. A part of me will always be on Foxcroft Drive in Finneytown, but Brookline isn't far from my heart either. I really miss Henry and the Kormans, too. I haven't lived on Foxcroft in almost 10 years, but there will always be something intensely familiar about stepping in their front door.
All right, all right, my integrals call me. Goodnight.
Interesting as that may seem, dear reader, I do promise there is a diamond in that non sequitur rough. I am reading a book called "Tournament of Shadows", which is a detailed account of the Great Game (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Great_Game). I was deeply amused that humanity's history of searching for utopia has firm foundations. The invocation of Paradise in The Divine Comedy in the Middle Ages. The quest for El Dorado by the conquistadores. And most recently, the pursuit of a Paris Hilton-free day of news coverage by modern Americans. Nestled in all of that is how both the British and the Russians duped themselves into thinking their the coveting of Tibet and its environs was part of some national spiritual fulfillment that would come when one of their national heroes discovered fabled "Shamballah". This metamorphosed 150 or so years later into a pop song by an almost forgotten band of the '60's and '70's, wording altered of course to "Shambala". (Look it up, its by Three Dog Night) What all of this is pointing to is that Paris Hilton's next move will be to convert to Buddhism and go in search of "Shamba-thingy." Would that not complete the wheel of history?
Anyway, this is one of those times when I discovered that I actually have something meaningful to type idly about. Although I want to be brief, because my math calls me. The last Harry Potter book was a smash. Perhaps it'll never deserve a place in anyone's collection of the classics, but as a coming of age novel, it was fantastic. Before book 7, I would have said that Severus Snape is the most finely painted character in the series. He certainly seemed the most complex. However, Rowling really surprised me by really giving Albus Dumbledore the depth his character truly deserved, and there were parts of the book that genuinely moved me. Completely worth the hour's wait in line. "Thumbs up!", as Angela would say.
Saturday was Marina's birthday, but we went out on the town on Sunday. It was a great day; like true nerds, we went to see "Whales" at the IMAX and had brunch at a really sweet Jewish delicatessen at Coolidge Corner. We wrapped it up by getting some ice cream injected pastries in the North End.
God, will I miss Brookline. I hope I can live here again someday. A part of me will always be on Foxcroft Drive in Finneytown, but Brookline isn't far from my heart either. I really miss Henry and the Kormans, too. I haven't lived on Foxcroft in almost 10 years, but there will always be something intensely familiar about stepping in their front door.
All right, all right, my integrals call me. Goodnight.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
An aside about Finneytown (Or as known to Nathanael, "The Compound")
This summer class has been instructive in more ways than one.
I have long since come to terms with the fact that Finneytown ill prepared me to handle college. Not, per se, in the rigor of the classes. Although I occasionally wish that we had learned far more in AP Calc than we actually did, I don't think any major disservice was done to me outside of the math department. Rather, my problem is that being a big fish in a small pond, I cultivated a fatal personality flaw that despite my (and college's) best efforts, I have yet to entirely rid myself of.
There was not a single class at Finneytown that seriously challenged me, or even when there were some challenges, I was always on top (or close enough to the top) of the pile of fellow sufferers. Unconsciously, I began to think that I could handle any subject without back breaking, mind-numbing, hours upon hours amount of studying. Not that I didn't do all of my homework, and not that I never studied. I just never, ever, had to shut myself in my room, for example, and study like there was a shotgun to my temple. This was especially bad if I already had a healthy start in the subject, and AP US History really exacerbated my arrogance and my complacency. I did so well on the tests, I practically stopped doing the homework. I studied for the AP test for about a half hour, and still got a 5. It wouldn't have been so bad if all of my other classmates found it as easy as I did, but everyone else regarded that class as death on wheels. So the fact that I cruised through it just by the sheer force of my own knowledge of the subject reinforced my self image as some sort of savant.
As a result, I still have this nagging, unconscious expectation that I can kick everybody's ass in every topic. This is so blatantly false, it's disgusting. But ridding myself of this expectation has been difficult. And Probability Theory really drove the point home. I have learned practically all of what we're covering on a much more shallow level in previous classes: The theoretical components, the proof components, and hell, even the sheer number crunching aspect to it, I've done it all. Therefore, I expected to waltz into the class with a sizable advantage over my peers, and to some degree, that's been borne out by the midterm. A more honest assessment though, is that I'm underperforming. There's no reason I shouldn't get a 100% on everything, except that its hard for me to listen to this guy explain things I already know. Very well. The catch lies when he turns around and gives us extremely difficult and challenging problems, and I have to fight myself at every turn and resist the urge to breeze through these problems like I'm the Rain Man. The truth is that I'm not, and if I really want to show how smart I am, I have to stop being so sloppy and behave more like Cece Murch or the 40 year old Chinese engineer who sits in the front of the class and peppers the professor with questions. Intuition and ability is great, but discipline must carry the day.
This class is an amazing opportunity. It's challenging, rigorous, and it gives me a chance to show my stuff. I have to step up and show that I really am all that and a bag of worms, even in a bigger pond.
I have long since come to terms with the fact that Finneytown ill prepared me to handle college. Not, per se, in the rigor of the classes. Although I occasionally wish that we had learned far more in AP Calc than we actually did, I don't think any major disservice was done to me outside of the math department. Rather, my problem is that being a big fish in a small pond, I cultivated a fatal personality flaw that despite my (and college's) best efforts, I have yet to entirely rid myself of.
There was not a single class at Finneytown that seriously challenged me, or even when there were some challenges, I was always on top (or close enough to the top) of the pile of fellow sufferers. Unconsciously, I began to think that I could handle any subject without back breaking, mind-numbing, hours upon hours amount of studying. Not that I didn't do all of my homework, and not that I never studied. I just never, ever, had to shut myself in my room, for example, and study like there was a shotgun to my temple. This was especially bad if I already had a healthy start in the subject, and AP US History really exacerbated my arrogance and my complacency. I did so well on the tests, I practically stopped doing the homework. I studied for the AP test for about a half hour, and still got a 5. It wouldn't have been so bad if all of my other classmates found it as easy as I did, but everyone else regarded that class as death on wheels. So the fact that I cruised through it just by the sheer force of my own knowledge of the subject reinforced my self image as some sort of savant.
As a result, I still have this nagging, unconscious expectation that I can kick everybody's ass in every topic. This is so blatantly false, it's disgusting. But ridding myself of this expectation has been difficult. And Probability Theory really drove the point home. I have learned practically all of what we're covering on a much more shallow level in previous classes: The theoretical components, the proof components, and hell, even the sheer number crunching aspect to it, I've done it all. Therefore, I expected to waltz into the class with a sizable advantage over my peers, and to some degree, that's been borne out by the midterm. A more honest assessment though, is that I'm underperforming. There's no reason I shouldn't get a 100% on everything, except that its hard for me to listen to this guy explain things I already know. Very well. The catch lies when he turns around and gives us extremely difficult and challenging problems, and I have to fight myself at every turn and resist the urge to breeze through these problems like I'm the Rain Man. The truth is that I'm not, and if I really want to show how smart I am, I have to stop being so sloppy and behave more like Cece Murch or the 40 year old Chinese engineer who sits in the front of the class and peppers the professor with questions. Intuition and ability is great, but discipline must carry the day.
This class is an amazing opportunity. It's challenging, rigorous, and it gives me a chance to show my stuff. I have to step up and show that I really am all that and a bag of worms, even in a bigger pond.
Monday, July 16, 2007
In Adolescence Arrested---Urban Edition
Let me tell you about Providence.
Later tonight------after class.
-----
All right. So class is over.
So Providence. Marina, Yelena, David Emer, and I all went down to Providence to meet one of Marina's friends who attends Brown and is living in Providence for the summer. After dinner, we headed out and saw the most amazing display of living art I have ever encountered.
Folks, normally, modern art blows. Badly. I almost didn't go to Brandeis because the boasted of having the biggest collection of Modern Art in New England. That's kind of like boasting that you have the biggest collection of leprotic rats in the U.S. Nobody cares, and if questioned, they'd rather not know.
To me, Modern Art is usually a 20 year old "artist" following his whimsy, and blowing his patron's good money doing so. Then, when you question his/her extravagance, the artist calmly replies that it was designed to transcend blah blah and little minds like yours wouldn't understand. Its roughly analogous to being 5 and your parents being silly enough to hand you a box full of markers, some fruit, and a blank wall of their newly furnished house and say, "Go to town!"
However, this was art. A genius decided to place 100 stone pillars in the middle of the three rivers of downtown Providence and place bundles of firewood in large, metallic braziers on top of each of them. Then, he would swoop down the rivers in a gondola and when the sun set, light each brazier in turn. The effect is visually enchanting and the atmosphere created as the earthy perfume of hickory smoke fills your nose and the music hypnotizes your ears is unforgettable. Bravo. If you ever come to New England, be sure to make a detour to Providence just to see this. You won't regret it.
Additionally, in terms of Providence itself, it reminded me a lot of Boston, just quainter. Its like a Boston that never grew up, never got rich and famous, so it was able to horde all of the trappings of childhood and only recently has it been forced out of the house. Consequently, it has a charming blend of modest skyscrapers and lots of federal and colonial style buildings.
The only marred part of our evening was that our train was delayed for 1 hr. 10 min. in Providence and I had to rush around downtown to make sure I got the last train home to Wash. Square/Cleveland Circle. At this point, if you sat me down and did a word association test, this would be the result:
1.) Frozen Pizza = Mom!
2.) Mustache = Dad!
3.) Republicans = Cincinnati!
4.) Cleveland Circle sign = Home!
I remark this only because I've noticed that every time these days that I step onto a Cleveland Circle car, some part of me starts to relax. It's like, "Finally, I'm going home."
I got my midterm back today, and was originally disappointed to see that I got an 83. Then he announced that the class average was a 73, and the median a 77. Furthermore, the highest grade was only a 94. Thus, that puts me roughly in the top 20% or so of the class. Certainly, room for improvement, but I have since noticed that he took 6 pts. off on problems I got right. So, hopefully, I have some room to argue up a few points. Hopefully, this puts me in the A- range, at minimum.
That'll do for now.
Later tonight------after class.
-----
All right. So class is over.
So Providence. Marina, Yelena, David Emer, and I all went down to Providence to meet one of Marina's friends who attends Brown and is living in Providence for the summer. After dinner, we headed out and saw the most amazing display of living art I have ever encountered.
Folks, normally, modern art blows. Badly. I almost didn't go to Brandeis because the boasted of having the biggest collection of Modern Art in New England. That's kind of like boasting that you have the biggest collection of leprotic rats in the U.S. Nobody cares, and if questioned, they'd rather not know.
To me, Modern Art is usually a 20 year old "artist" following his whimsy, and blowing his patron's good money doing so. Then, when you question his/her extravagance, the artist calmly replies that it was designed to transcend blah blah and little minds like yours wouldn't understand. Its roughly analogous to being 5 and your parents being silly enough to hand you a box full of markers, some fruit, and a blank wall of their newly furnished house and say, "Go to town!"
However, this was art. A genius decided to place 100 stone pillars in the middle of the three rivers of downtown Providence and place bundles of firewood in large, metallic braziers on top of each of them. Then, he would swoop down the rivers in a gondola and when the sun set, light each brazier in turn. The effect is visually enchanting and the atmosphere created as the earthy perfume of hickory smoke fills your nose and the music hypnotizes your ears is unforgettable. Bravo. If you ever come to New England, be sure to make a detour to Providence just to see this. You won't regret it.
Additionally, in terms of Providence itself, it reminded me a lot of Boston, just quainter. Its like a Boston that never grew up, never got rich and famous, so it was able to horde all of the trappings of childhood and only recently has it been forced out of the house. Consequently, it has a charming blend of modest skyscrapers and lots of federal and colonial style buildings.
The only marred part of our evening was that our train was delayed for 1 hr. 10 min. in Providence and I had to rush around downtown to make sure I got the last train home to Wash. Square/Cleveland Circle. At this point, if you sat me down and did a word association test, this would be the result:
1.) Frozen Pizza = Mom!
2.) Mustache = Dad!
3.) Republicans = Cincinnati!
4.) Cleveland Circle sign = Home!
I remark this only because I've noticed that every time these days that I step onto a Cleveland Circle car, some part of me starts to relax. It's like, "Finally, I'm going home."
I got my midterm back today, and was originally disappointed to see that I got an 83. Then he announced that the class average was a 73, and the median a 77. Furthermore, the highest grade was only a 94. Thus, that puts me roughly in the top 20% or so of the class. Certainly, room for improvement, but I have since noticed that he took 6 pts. off on problems I got right. So, hopefully, I have some room to argue up a few points. Hopefully, this puts me in the A- range, at minimum.
That'll do for now.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Going postal
So my mail is officially undeliverable.
For some inexplicable reason, I have discovered that my mail has not been delivered for the past month for reasons unknown. This is seriously grating, and a major problem. It means that until the post office gets their act together, I am a bit in the lurch on getting my credit card, getting my text book for probability class, and receiving even general mail (Thanks again, Dad and Aunt Sally!).
I called USPS on July 3rd, but although I tried to reach them again on Thursday, they still say they haven't sorted it out. Very, very frustrating.
On a better note, Aunt Sally and Andrew just left for Charleston a few hours ago after a very fun, and by my standards, very luxurious visit. Aunt Sally was very generous in paying for a good chunk of my lunches and whatnot, and I have a finer appreciation for how much my parents spend when they take me out places. I think about all of the times my parents and relatives took me out to eat, and how often I didn't thank them, and I realize I was often ungrateful. After living here for a few months, and having to stick mostly to inexpensive eats whenever I do go out, I felt positively feted by my aunt as we had 2 fantastic lunches in Little Italy AND room service. For the first time, I felt obligated to take her out, too.
Originally, I planned to take them out to lunch at Penguin Pizza at Brigham Circle, but we never wound up going down quite that way, and after Aunt Sally saw the North End I couldn't convince her to eat anywhere else even with a gun to her head. So, I settled for buying them a round of desserts at Mike's Pastry. However, someday, when I have a comfortable amount of cash in my bank account, I'm going to turn the tables on Ole Sally and treat her from one end of Boston to the other; From Hanover Street to Kenmore Square.
My probability theory class is enjoyable; or at least as enjoyable as a math class can be. Although to a large extent, I have learned most of the concepts in one class or the other already, this approach to the subject is far more rigorous, and I enjoy my professor's approach to proving basic concepts. Our first midterm is Thursday, and will include lots of proofs, which is good, because it is reinforcing 3 sets of information at once: combinatorics, probability, and proofs.
So today and Sunday I am going to crash, and finish paying off my last set of bills: internet, electric, rent, and buy a one way ticket to Dayton, OH.
Beaming out, Scotty.
For some inexplicable reason, I have discovered that my mail has not been delivered for the past month for reasons unknown. This is seriously grating, and a major problem. It means that until the post office gets their act together, I am a bit in the lurch on getting my credit card, getting my text book for probability class, and receiving even general mail (Thanks again, Dad and Aunt Sally!).
I called USPS on July 3rd, but although I tried to reach them again on Thursday, they still say they haven't sorted it out. Very, very frustrating.
On a better note, Aunt Sally and Andrew just left for Charleston a few hours ago after a very fun, and by my standards, very luxurious visit. Aunt Sally was very generous in paying for a good chunk of my lunches and whatnot, and I have a finer appreciation for how much my parents spend when they take me out places. I think about all of the times my parents and relatives took me out to eat, and how often I didn't thank them, and I realize I was often ungrateful. After living here for a few months, and having to stick mostly to inexpensive eats whenever I do go out, I felt positively feted by my aunt as we had 2 fantastic lunches in Little Italy AND room service. For the first time, I felt obligated to take her out, too.
Originally, I planned to take them out to lunch at Penguin Pizza at Brigham Circle, but we never wound up going down quite that way, and after Aunt Sally saw the North End I couldn't convince her to eat anywhere else even with a gun to her head. So, I settled for buying them a round of desserts at Mike's Pastry. However, someday, when I have a comfortable amount of cash in my bank account, I'm going to turn the tables on Ole Sally and treat her from one end of Boston to the other; From Hanover Street to Kenmore Square.
My probability theory class is enjoyable; or at least as enjoyable as a math class can be. Although to a large extent, I have learned most of the concepts in one class or the other already, this approach to the subject is far more rigorous, and I enjoy my professor's approach to proving basic concepts. Our first midterm is Thursday, and will include lots of proofs, which is good, because it is reinforcing 3 sets of information at once: combinatorics, probability, and proofs.
So today and Sunday I am going to crash, and finish paying off my last set of bills: internet, electric, rent, and buy a one way ticket to Dayton, OH.
Beaming out, Scotty.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Taking stock
Boy am I glad that I took proofs.
(Never thought I'd say that).
Probability theory class started today, and there were 2 surprises:
1.) For a summer class, there were a lot of people: 35. And this is a relatively advanced class; it requires multivariate calculus.
2.) This one was a pleasant surprise. The professor promised to dismiss us at least 15 minutes early each day.
I'll write more about this tomorrow. I'm very tired tonight.
(Never thought I'd say that).
Probability theory class started today, and there were 2 surprises:
1.) For a summer class, there were a lot of people: 35. And this is a relatively advanced class; it requires multivariate calculus.
2.) This one was a pleasant surprise. The professor promised to dismiss us at least 15 minutes early each day.
I'll write more about this tomorrow. I'm very tired tonight.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)