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:

ilanga liyaqanda

I have a lot to do, but I feel like writing for a minute. Here's what's left of the trees in my backyard:


The weather right now is perfect, to me. Walking the colorful streets of Provo reminds me simultaneously of two wonderful places: Gweru and Manti. I can't specifically remember ever visiting Manti in the fall, which makes me think that I'm reminded of Manti by my remembrance of Gweru.

Gweru is the third or fourth largest city in Zimbabwe and is situated about half-way between Harare and Bulawayo. Crossing Zimbabwe from east to west, Gweru seems to be the last city before the authentic African savanna begins -- tall yellow grass dotted with Acacia trees. And if I were to pick one word to describe that city, it would be sleepy.

My stay in Gweru was the shortest of all the places I lived as a missionary. I stayed in Bulawayo from July to November, Harare until August, Lusaka until January, Harare again, then Gweru from May until the end of June -- just one transfer. As a result, the Gweru of my memory is in a permanent fall. And in that fall, I love retracing my steps and rides through Lundi Park, the Bata factory, Southdowns and Ivene. I miss talking to the members of the Church there, and I miss eating a half-loaf of bread with a sack of milk for lunch. I miss the relaxed life that they live there. I miss bags of biscuits. I wonder how Omega's doing. I wonder where George ended up -- I'll never forget the day that he literally gave me the shirt off his back. I wonder if I'll ever again get to taste one of those lemon-doughnuts from the bakery in town.

Mentally walking through Gweru (or Gwelo as it was once called) reminds me of Manti -- peaceful Manti. Small houses without sidewalks and old, tall trees. I love simple Manti. Life is so simple there.

I'm glad that I will forever be blessed with remembrances of Gweru when the fall comes around -- it's nice to remember a simpler time.

I've been flipping through the end of my mission journal and found this gem (from after I came home):
"I ... attended the Single's Ward. I didn't like parts of it, but it was mostly okay. The talks, all of them, were very well-prepared, but, let me copy down a thought I wrote in my study journal: 'Being intelligent can be a downfall because it draws the user of the brain to leave out the unintelligible feelings of the heart. Never forget your heart... Live by your heart.'"

Here's the street I live on -- just took this picture on my way home today:

To stumps

This week, something happened that I never really thought would happen. In my backyard grow two enormous Lombardy Poplars.



They've been growing for (let's see... I think my parents moved there in 1979... so) about 29 years. The mathematically astute will note that my age lies to the left of the trees' age on a standard number line -- they've always been there as far as I'm concerned.

The two giants are the grown remnants of a family of dead-looking sticks, which arrived in the mail some 30 years ago. My mom planted several of the sticks along our back fence looking forward to a beautiful wall of leaves. My dad accidentally (wisely) mowed over all but two of them, foreseeing the wall of leaves annually becoming a lake of leaves to rake up. And the two became the poles for our hammock.

But last week, because they're beginning to die, they're chopping the trees down. I went over after one had already been half cut down. This is what's left:


I'm sad that the trees are going -- it's almost like they're part of the family. But that's the way life goes, I guess.

After saying farewell to the trees Saturday morning, I went hiking with some friends around Y Mountain. We started in Rock Canyon and came down Slide Canyon (to the South of the Y on the mountain).

The leaves were spectacular!


We only took two "detours." I'm really glad we took the second detour because it landed us in an enormous, deep valley. That's where this picture was taken:


and this grovey picture:


Val brought Buster, who buried several biscuits along the trail:


We had to move through prehistoric leaf-bushes:


There were bugs:


and flowers:


and logs:


and helicopters:

and sun:


We stopped for a picnic at the meadow just inside Slide Canyon. I had bought bags of fresh peaches and pears from a fruit stand on Canyon Road the day before, so I delighted on those, some graham crackers, Ammon's butter crackers, some cookies and a spoonful of peanut butter in the meadow.

And then we descended to the Y:


This is the first time I've hiked down the Y without having first hiked up it. My knees hate hiking down the Y.

After getting off the mountain, I completed my adventures with a trip to the French bakery on State Street. I had two wonderful fruit tarts. And later that evening I enjoyed a French movie, "The Chorus" at the International Cinema.

So the trees are gone, but life goes on. And General Conference is this weekend!

Not a lot

I take a variety of ways to and from work every day. During the summer I would consistently take University Avenue to and fro, but now that school's in session, it seems like the roads are a little more crowded. So it takes me 10 minutes longer to travel, but I enjoy the calmer drive.

On one of my out-of-the-way escapades this week I found a lot for sale:


I'm thinking of buying it. I'll use it for storing my boat and my sports cars. If anyone wants to go halfsies with me, let me know. I think this sign could be a.... sign reminding me that just because something's big and red and for sale doesn't mean it's a good deal.

And no, Cambridge boy doesn't come with the lot.... unless you're female and free tomorrow night.

Cambios Zvakanakas

I've changed.

A week prior to the first day of school in the fall of 2002, you would have found me amassing supplies in preparation for my maiden semester at the Y. My impressive arsenal included several notebooks of college-ruled, perforated paper (each of a distinct color corresponding to a class), new folders branded with the class name of the papers they would soon hold, my schedule printed on a 3x5 card, a new box of pens, and a pocket-sized planner.

I also had my first experience exchanging appendages for books at the bookstore. For some reason, though -- and I've never found out why it happened – they had all my books waiting for me in a cardboard box! They gave me the one with my name on it, I payed, then hefted it home – buying books is easy!

One thing more made my preparations complete: my map. But not just a map... a color-coded, hand-highlighted map. Each building was highlighted, as were each of the paths I would be traveling between classes. I clutched the thing vigorously that first week.

Yes... I was ready for school.

Now I'm a week and a half into my ninth semester here. And I'm mapless. But not just mapless... I only have one notebook so far – it's a light blue 70-pager leftover from my hardware design class... and my technical writing class... and part of my Spanish phonetics class... and the first week of a CS class I didn't end up taking. It's also got the scoreboard from a game of Greed – Ashley had 6200 points when the game ended. The final pages contain token notes from each of my current classes – notes with headings like: REL 3something Day 2. I've got three old folders sitting empty in my backpack. My CS textbook finally arrived yesterday – so I'll either diligently catch up on the reading I missed, or I'll absorb what I need from the lecture I didn't attend today and make it through.

I'm writing this in the CAEDM lab on the fourth floor of the Clyde Building. I've just finished a lab for one of my classes and don't really want to start any of the other homework I have. I'll be walking home shortly, then go to Thirsty Thursdays.

So. I've changed. I wouldn't say (though some will) that I've become more lazy, though I've definitely relaxed a lot since the first semester. I aim for good grades, but don't stress over them.

And in April, I will graduate with a Bachelors degree in Electrical Engineering. Supposedly, that means that I will be able to engineer electrons. And though I can make them dance in certain ways, I am by no means an expert – nor do I consider myself all that competent in many of the dance moves.

What I do know, however, is that voltage is directly proportional to current and resistance, AND that I will keep changing. I suppose I'm not much different from everyone else: I like most of the changes I see in myself, but dislike some of the others. It seems that those I like have come out of either conscious effort, or through struggling against a challenge, while those I disdain have just happened out of living lazily from day to day.

Anyway...

I wonder what the next 6 years will bring.

/musings

Here's a flower whose picture I took: