...Prove Their Worth...

"Problems worthy of attack
prove their worth
by hitting back." - Piet Hein

A kind of running diary and rambling pieces on my struggles with assorted books, classes, and other things, as they happen. You must be pretty bored to be reading this...

Saturday, May 24, 2003

Lazy bums of the world, unite! You have nothing to lose but your laziness. Or something like that. It's been another few weeks since I've deigned to update this thing. I'm lazy.

Nothing spectacular occured in the interregnum. I finished out a semester at the world-famous locus of academic (and tobacco-smoking) excellence known as my local community college. (R3pr3s3nt!) My age counter got incremented, and my decrepitude and general old-fartness are now reaching truly impressive heights. Or should that be lows?

I'm getting closer to finishing a text on vector spaces. In fact I'm supposed to be working on some problems from it right now, and I'm procrastinating by updating this page. I bought a used book on differential equations, and it arrived today. The idea is to get to know (in an intimate yet platonic way) a lot of the short-bus-riding differential equations with funny French names (Bessel, Laguerre, Jean-Luc Picard, et cetera), as well as various nifty equation-solving techniques that I haven't seen before. I know the text I just got to be good, because I'd been working with a library copy for a while now. Well, anyway, this particular used book was advertised as being in 'near fine' condition, and that seems to be more or less accurate. There was, however, an amusing surprise. Across the front of the text, in large golden embossed letters are the words "Professional Review Copy. Not For Sale." So if I ever want to sell this thing, people will think I stole it. Ah well. What's between the covers is what matters.

I also got an impressive amount of white paint in my hair this evening. This was due to a room-painting mishap involving paint (duh), a paint roller, a wall, a step ladder, duct tape, and my legendary clumsiness. I'd describe exactly what happened, but it was sufficiently confusing that I'm not going to bother. I was probably quite a sight while jogging tonight, what with the half-white hair, paint-spattered shorts, and a scent that would best be described as 'eau du paint factory'. No rabbits this evening, and I don't blame them. I wouldn't want to run into me tonight either.


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