Understated

Heard on the teevee, "Now that's a nice improvement on the normal Death Spiral you see so much of nowadays." Seriously, man, what could be an improvement on a Death Spiral? Ninja Laser Death Spiral Monkeys? With a kung-fu grip? We thought we were powerful. We thought we could improve on the Death Spiral, but we were wrong. Adding monkeys to the Death Spiral was something that science should never have done. Now we have to live with our Death Spiral monkeys, sitting in on the Pairs Short Program, throwing their feces on the ice. When will science learn? Some things were never meant to be hybridized with monkeys.

Departure

Today, I noticed it. A puddle of water had formed under my coffeepot. At first, I thought it was a spill. I wanted it to be a spill. I needed it to be a spill. I didn't really want to consider the alternative.

After a brief investigation, however, I discovered a fatal flaw in the coffeepot. The water reservoir had just had it. A crack had developed at the bottom, where various planes of plastic came together and were fused to form a waterproof seal. There is nothing to be done for it, I don't want epoxy residue getting into my coffee.

So, ladies and gentlemen, raise a toast to my coffeepot, which has been with me since I started graduate school (it was my first purchase, before I even bought books or anything). Some quick and rough estimates lead me to believe I've brewed about a thousand gallons of coffee in it. That's about one cubic me: a cube that has sides the length of me. So, I guess that the pot has served me well. Time to get a new one.

Reminisce

You think back, recalling all the conversations you've been in today. With whom have you spoken? What did you say? Who else did you wave to as you walked down the hall? Could your fly really have been open that whole time? Wow. Better remember to check more often.

Evolution

We're sitting in a train, the Blue line Metro in Washington. A woman gets on the train, sits and immediately takes off her shoes. Odd. She follows up by taking off her socks, and taking a pair of fancy shoes from her bag. Reshod, she touches up her makeup, switches around her scarf, and heads out into the cold, winter air.

Artery

True story. I'm walking down the road, trying to find that happy medium between the muddy shoulder and getting run over. So one foot is muddy, and the other is four inches higher and on asphalt. The whole time, I keep thinking to myself, "Dangit, dangit, dangit". And then I wonder, why the heck am I using standins for expletives? What the heck is wrong with me, even my internal monologue is PG.

Innocence

We went boldly into our new home, leaving behind the hangers and hangups of old spaces. In particular, we left behind the wire hangers we had accumulated throughout a life of collecting. "Leave them, leave them, leave them. We will get new ones in our new home." Trusting in the ubiquity of wire hangers, we left our hangers in our old space. In our new space, we are exploding with possibilities, but if we want wire hangers, we have to get something dry-cleaned, because they just don't sell wire hangers at the store.

Deprecate

Two years since I've been a serious programmer. In the interim, I've done some toy programming, a little perl grease for the wheels of an otherwise working website for example. But no real programming, no real projects. Such is life when you're writing your dissertation. Anyway, I dusted off my Java IDE today, got the latest version of everything, and was ready to dive in to my latest idea.

I should have looked before I dove in. I nearly broke my neck on all the new stuff. I mean, aspects, annotations, generics, unit testing, oh my. Back when I started my graduate student career I did not understand how my advisor could become so behind the times (she has a Ph.D. in computer science from MIT, and shared an office with RMS, surely she'd never let her coding skills slip, right?). But now I understand. I'm going to let myself go. This next generation of my ideas will likely be implemented by someone else, a snot-nosed know it all, I hope. One that will never understand how I could let my skills lapse.

But that's the circle of life. Right up until I eat that know it all for being a little too snide. Then it's more of, say, an ellipse of life.

Traffic

I'm cruising home, along the interstate. We're all moving along at a pretty speedy clip. So I don't have time to deal with what's happening. There's a huge, enormous, beyond words large flock of birds flying over the freeway. It stretches from one edge of my windshield to the other, and goes on for the two or so minutes they're in sight before I drive under them. I want to stop the car, get out and just ogle it. It is beautiful. I don't know what kind of birds they are, they're smaller than, say ducks. But they're beautiful.

The next night, they're there again. And the next. At some point, I stopped noticing them.

Lift

I jumped onto my desk. Just now. Just to prove I still could. It was a standing leap, maybe about three feet. Let's see, it seems like my desktop is just a little below hip-level on me. Not bad, not bad at all.

Lyric

I have high expectations of my music. I want the words to evoke, invoke, and revoke. I want to be transported to another realm by the poetry involved in good songwriting. That's why I like Ani diFranco. She's got a good voice, but if you listen to what she's saying, it's a whole other level. "I'm going to get my feet wet until I drown", "I used to be a hero ... you are like a phonebooth that I somehow stumbled into". Seriously man, it makes me feel all inadequate that I cannot express myself so cleverly. But that's why I'm not a famous singer.

That and I cannot sing. I have been told that singing with me is great and low pressure, since you don't have to worry about the right notes. But you do have to worry about my made up, in-between notes that are neither sharp nor flat.