Three years ago

Wow... I can't believe it's been almost three years. In October, right around General Conference, it will have been three years. Time really has flown, and so much has happened to me since that day.

Nearly three years ago, I bought this bottle of hair gel:

Now the goo's depleted. Goo. I guess most of it's... on my pillow... huh... that's a strange thought. Some made it down the shower drains of the 'Oood and my current bathroom. Campus has received a fair dusting, as have California, St. George and Arizona -- though in very small, very dry flecks. My usual strategy is to gloop my hair up, let it harden, then run my hands through my hair until it's soft.

The stuff runs at about $3 per bottle. As a diligent saver, I would have needed to put away 5 cents from each pay check to save up enough for the next bottle. That's neglecting earned interest and inflation. Supposing a 4% annual savings rate and 4% annual inflation, I would then need to retain 5 cents from each pay check. Still pretty cheap. I suppose I could devote one day in 15 scouring parking lots and sofas for a nickel. And if luck turned up a dime, I'd be set for an entire month.

On two unrelated notes:

I've been studying like mad for my EcEn 451 midterm, and as I've been studying, trying to learn (and succeeding in learning) various things for the class, once in a while, I've been struck by my overuse of commas, and I've also had feelings of, "Hey, you're learning something that you could actually use to find employment -- you're learning useful things." You might say that this contradicts the last sentence of my previous post... but the feeling is more of "this is useful, you're putting good things in your head." It's similar to learning some Spanish, then being able to speak to someone in Spanish -- you know? that satisfying feeling of accomplishment?

And:

We spoke today about Post Modernism in my English class. It was kind of eerie. Post Modernists (should that be capitalized? ... well post modernists wouldn't care) are relativists... and don't believe in convention or standards -- reality as we perceive it isn't real... it's just become real because of how we perceive. Anyway, it's all very circular and makes only half sense. Following it to its end seems to lead one to atheism... and don't-believe-or-stand-for-anythingism.

BUT, it was eerie because a lot of what I do follows post modernist thought -- the things I think are funny. I'm rambling... so, you know how your having a conversation amongst a group of people, and then you start conversing about yourselves conversing -- that's post modernism. People of earlier ages didn't ordinarily do that. Or when you make fun of singing in a song. Or when you mock dating conventions as you date. Or speaking conventions as you speak. Or blogging conventions as you blog!!.

Okay, enough of that.


That's a daffodil from two nights ago.

Wasteland

One day this week I wore white shoes, my fancy blue jeans, a brown belt, a grey and blue sweater over a brown shirt with a black jacket. Is that okay?


(This picture depicts how we went to the BYU-Utah basketball game. Ammon's year is accurate. Steve's and mine are not)

Also this week, in my favorite class, Dr. Talbot read aloud T.S. Eliot's poem, The Wasteland. Dr. Talbot speaks Latin, German, French and Spanish (as best I can tell -- I have a feeling he started with Latin), so he had no problem switching to the various languages as he read. It was so nice to go to a class and just listen to poetry. No PowerPoint (aside: PowerPoint is to education as Agent Orange is to forests). No equations. No code optimizations. No bickering about points on homework. And in fact (this one deserves another paragraph)...

Dr. Talbot revealed a great secret just prior to reading the poem. He spoke for a minute about how intellectuals and professors find all kinds of symbolism and meaning in The Wasteland. They find great ideas and wisdom. It was truly a revolutionary poem. "But," he said, "do you want to know the reason I like it?" (he actually repeated this question several times during his explanation of the poem's intellectual merits)

"I like it because it sounds nice." He enjoys it in much the same way that we enjoy good music, not because of the words at first, but because of the sound and the feeling it evokes. "In fact," said he, his love of literature and poetry in general is primarily not from intellectual study of the works, but whether or not he likes it. What a relief! Since my first English class in Jr. High, I've wondered what's wrong with me! All these teachers naturally find all these deep meanings and expect essays to be written in comparison and contrast. Find the theme, find the point, find the technique, get inside the author's head. Finally I have an English teacher who's honest enough to admit the true reason he likes literature -- and it's the same reason I like to read: I just like it! I enjoy reading the stories. It's fun. I like the puns and the tricks. I like meeting characters and watching them go about their lives. I love alliteration.

After the initial draw, secondarily he enjoys an intellectual perusal of the literature. So, stop it, all you English teachers. Stop making me feel like a dolt for just enjoying the "music" without listening to the "lyrics." I don't mind learning deeper meanings, but don't pretend like you read it primarily for those deeper thoughts.

No one will have made it to this paragraph... I usually stop reading posts that are this long. But one more thing I noticed. During Dr. Talbot's reading of the poem, I noticed one kid, in the back of the class -- a kid in my major with whom I have a class or two -- doing his homework. He couldn't be bothered to care about dumb English. He's too cool for that, I guess. How could English possibly help in real life? I'm just glad that I have been trained to enjoy things that aren't redeemable for cash.

Three things

So... if you want to have all your clothes clean at once, you've got to be risk sitting around naked while they are washed. If you don't have a washing machine, completely clean is impossible (or not worth it at best). Life's like that: you've got to live with imperfection ... or be naked.

Whilst still lying in bed this morning soon after I awoke, out of nowhere I realized how to fold those flower-like games from elementary school. So I grabbed a piece of paper from my backpack and folded one... and it worked!

I don't know what made me think of it, but I was happy that the design in my head worked in real life. Usually twilight thoughts don't translate to reality.

This week, I've been eating fresh strawberries cut into strawberry yogurt infused with pecan bits. I like it a lot.

And I can't take very much credit for this because my duties on our Senior project team haven't dealt much with vision or navigation yet, but I'm still helping out. The car in the video below is following the green water noodle with a camera mounted on top of the car.

Bijana, Bijana

Happy Valentine's Day!

My dad shared an interesting article with me about Joshua Bell, violinist extraordinaire, playing as a street performer during a D.C. rush hour. Only a handful of people paid any attention to him. (I think it's interesting that the most consistently interested demographic were the young children). If you've got several minutes this article is worth reading, not only for the content, but for the fact that it has at least these GRE words in it: cupidity, banal, castigating, mendicant, august, coalesced and encomium (I never thought I'd see "encomium" used).

Someone else shared another article (through Google Reader) about alone time. I'm very much guilty of constantly being connected. With my iPod, I can always get my email or chat with people whenever I have Wifi -- and all the places I tend to be have Wifi. With my little EeePc, I can use my computer in class and connect to the ether.

Driving home a day or two ago, I listened on the radio to a discussion about watching TV -- about what people think is okay for kids and adults. The "expert" pointed out that TV viewing has become less of a family activity (as it was decades ago) and is now an individual activity. He refuted the claim that TV-watching habits can be reduced to "hours watched;" the content matters too!

And then I saw this commercial on TV for Dentyne. Yes, I was lazily watching TV after listening to the radio program on bad TV-watching habits.

So... all these combined have given me a desire to interact more and compute less -- to unplug.


And so, today we fixed an old PlayStation (thanks Amanda!) and were playing Grand Tourismo. You'll note that the PlayStation is running sans cap, like an fusty turn table.


(Using "fusty" was a stretch... yes, I know)

Change

Things keep changing in my life. Some of the changes I welcome... some I do not... but my life's history leads me to believe that even the undesirable changes end up being good after some time.

But in another vein: some time ago, I was washing my hands in a restroom in the Wilk. As I was rinsing, another guy came up to the sinks to wash his hands. He startled me as he furiously pumped the soap dispenser for his soap. He must have pushed the thing 6 or 8 times. "Sheesh, man... a dab'll do ya," I thought. My mind continued: "I'll bet that he..." and sure enough, he ripped out 4 or 5 paper towels to dry his hands, then chucked them in the trash. That's a little excessive.

Two or three years ago I realized that one paper towel is sufficient to dry one's hands, and I made the switch from my customary two to one. From my casual observation, I think most people take two towels -- there's something satisfying about the roll turning over twice, I guess. Kachunk. Kachunk. Anyway...

People -- Mr. President -- talk about great changes that need to happen to "fix" things. I'm eager for him to try. I feel like he's a good man and has both the clout and the desire to cause change to happen. I just hope he doesn't use the rubber from the back tire to fix the front tire. And I hope he doesn't feed the lazy with the bread of the worker. Sometimes we need to trust that the invisible hand will move things where they need to be. And sometimes we need to move them. I think now needs a little of both without an excess of either.

So back to hand-drying:

What if everyone started drying with one towel instead of two? Kachunk. Our paper towel consumption would be reduced by 50%. And who needs hard numbers? Using half as much stuff is better than using twice as much as half as much stuff. Extend this to water usage: a 10 minute shower uses 33% less water than a 15 minutes shower. A sink filled up half way with shaving water uses 50% less water than a full sink. What if, instead of regulating and redistributing, people were conscientious in their own lives?

You can effect change from the top down or from the outside in... or you can cause change from the bottom up and the inside out.

Just some thoughts. No pic... sorry :)

On the Morality of Conspicuous Espionage

Today in the library, I saw a girl with her laptop (a Mac) on it's side opened toward her. I thought it might have been a new kind of computer... or a book dressed as a computer. I approached her from behind the computer, then circled around to the user side and discovered that she was reading a PDF that a teacher had photocopied sideways. I would have spent hours researching how (and likely writing a program to do) to rotate a PDF. Good for you, girl... and thanks for the laugh.

On Wednesday, I was sitting in one of the alcoves of the JFSB writing an essay for my English class. Those alcoves are prime spots for sporadic people-watching -- the traffic isn't heavy, but very noticeable. Anyway, I heard a girl approaching, chatting on her cell phone -- it sounded like she was leaving someone a message. And when she came into view, I remarked to myself that she was quite attractive, quite tall, and ringless. As I was remarking that to myself (and here's the point of the story), she started saying her phone number into the phone! I retained it in memory just long enough to think, "What are the rules about getting a girl's phone number... from herself speaking it in your presence?" But I tossed it away instead of writing it down, deciding that my calling her could only lead to the police beat. Gave me a good laugh anyway.

We've been using colored pencils in my class about processor/gate design and manufacturing, so I snapped this photo (and the one up top) after sharpening my little, little pencils that my wonderful mother got for me. Hey, if the CivEs get to play in sandboxes, then the EEs can color!


Wish me luck on the GRE this Saturday!

UN Nukes

This deserves a post :) Thank you, Onion.

distrub be gone

So as not to distrub Barb any longer, here's a quick post.

Christmas (both the day and cushion of no school surrounding the day) was really, really good this year. Lots of times, I feel completely useless and unproductive during school holidays - but I actually did things this holiday which made it fun. And I got to spend it with my friends and family, which is always nice. Here are a few highlights from the past few weeks:

1. Mo.. Santa got me a nutmeg grinder. I love fresh nutmeg! I'm eager to make some spice doughnuts to try it out.

2. Also, we got these really cool helicopters (my brothers and I got them). When mine's repaired, ask me to fly it.

3. I went with Martha to a Utah Jazz game. We inherited some really nice seats, which is what motivated us to go. They were playing the Mavericks, and they won, which was good. But the best part of the whole night was Art, the man sitting next to us. As soon as we sat down, he heartily shook my hand as he introduced himself. He's a wizened man with a hoary head (I'm studying for the GRE), hearing aids and a nearly blind wife at his side. He was as enthusiastic as any other fan -- I think he lives to attend these games. He gave me a few high fives after some excellent plays and was generally just enthusiastically fun. He also liked it everytime the dancers came on :) Thank heavens for enthusiastic people.

4. I saw Valkyrie -- very good.

5. We made Godzilla in the snow:

and finally, two of the best things:

1. I went shopping for clothes with Martha, Ashley and Tresa. (Coincidentally, the first letters of their names spells Mat, which is the root word of Matt, which is my name) I've been wanting to buy clothes for myself for a long time. Except for a few shirts from DI and my $15 jeans, I can't think of ever buying clothes for myself. And yet, I budget a part of my paychecks for clothing. So we trucked around the mall and found some great clothes. I'm pleased with my purchases. I'll see about posting some pictures of Stylish Matt ... our runway is currently broken, but when it's fixed, you'll get a peek. Oh, Shawn came too -- I can't forget Shawn.

2. I made pasta and chicken-flavoured white sauce from scratch tonight for dinner. Making the noodles reminded me of my mission a bit -- when I learned how easy they are to make. And I wish I had that machine my mom has for flattening them. I think the noodles could have been a little flatter and the sauce would have been extra nice with some chicken in it. But it was still good.


Also, I finally met my nephew, Lincoln. And he was awake and everything! I'm glad I have married brothers.

Ladies: Don't worry... Scruff Matt can still be found below. You'll just have to scroll down a bit.

Toothbrush

Last Sunday I woke up feeling sick and promptly threw overboard the offending stowaways from the ship that is my stomach. I retired to my quarters only to return repeatedly to the deck to have a few more walk the plank. Eventually, I signaled the Mothership for aid. She came out to sea and towed me back to harbor where I stayed until Wednesday afternoon.

In the process, I got some great scruff:


I have some residual treasures at home that always make staying there convenient. I have a change of underwear, an unoccupied bed, a drumset, a piano and a toothbrush -- at least, I think I have a toothbrush. I know that I left a toothbrush at home; it was in the mirror on the right. I left it on the second shelf when I moved out in 2006. I'm pretty sure it was white.

There's still a white toothbrush in that mirror -- but it's been moved. And it's next to another fancier, mechanical toothbrush. So every time I brush my teeth at home now, I put some paste on the brush and think, "Is this really my toothbrush? Or is this Dad's?" But every time I elect benign ignorance over sure understanding and brush my teeth with the white brush.

And I'm happier that way. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. :)

Mlneagd

Keep rnediag, it's pbisolse to raed tihs. You may rembeemr tihs pmnhneoea bieng pasesd arunod as an eimal a whlie ago. It sdpupseoly cmae out of smoe rasreceh dnoe at a Unirsteviy. Tihs guy cmmontes on the oraginil (wihch may not alaculty be all taht aruatcce).

Awayny, I've adedd a btoutn on my bolg (oevr tehre on the rhgit) taht if you prses, wlil mkae evrey psot manlegd in the smae way this one is. Feel fere to psers it, tehn wiat a few sdocnes to see if tgihns cganhe. I've olny tsteed it wtih FFeroix, so I'm not srue how the ohetr bersrwos wlil frae.

Hree's the botutn too: