New Year’s Resolution: 1024×768

Dwee and I ate out at On the Border today.

Our fat-free Balsamic Vinagrette had 620 mg of sodium!! And one beef empanada had 230 calories, with 16 grams of fat. The server was really nice so we left all happy, but everything was sooo saltyyy.

Now we’re watching Supersize Me. :-D


“If the Romans had been obliged to learn Latin, they would never have found the time to conquer the world.”
—Heinrich Heine

“If you can speak three languages you’re trilingual. If you can speak two languages you’re bilingual. If you can speak only one language you’re an American.”
—Anonymous

Moviem Matricem hodie vidi. Nice plot, but the romance and action scenes were crude, obvious, and too long. It’s like a book-movie film, except that I don’t think there ever was a Matrix book. Now Dwee and I want to see the other two.

I got two new friends, Mitchell and Mildred! They’re my mittens. The left hand one *coughlimitcough* is Mildred; Mitchell manus dextra est. Smiling from the glove seam, the Mitties have implied sets of eyes. That is, they’re not really there, but they are. [whoo, clarity!]

..sooo..many…asian…parties….*dies*

*eats vitamin C*

The toilet is getting better–it’s flushed properly many times this morning.

1. My toilet hates me. I think it wants to unionize or something.

2. Fartus major and Fartus minor are both dead. Frozen and dried to death in the tundra of my porch.

3. The avocado plant died.


Anyway, we had a ‘game of chance gathering’ yesterday! remnants_of_me had the longest name out of all of us five people. Tee. There was glamour, gossip, and most of alll, PIZZA. Ooo-and gifts! remnants_of_me mihi donavit more than a pound of chocolate, a turquoise jewelry box (she sat on an ottoman that day), and a tiny calendar. Huzzah!

4. I think I sprouted hips. Oh, the horror.

oh. my. god.

I think 121 is a perfect square in base anything greater than 2, simply because there’s no such thing as a 2 in base 2.
1001, though, is a “transliteration” of 121 into base 2, and it’s still a square.

hehe–and it seems to work for 1331 and 14641 tooo…

When Things Get Small

When Things Get Small
When Things Get Small” on Google Video
What could a stadium-sized bowl of peanuts, a shrinking elephant, and a crazed hockey player have to do with nanoscience? Those are just a few of the goofy excursions that await you when witty host Adam Smith and wacky physicist Ivan Schuller take you on an irreverant, madcap, comically corny romp into the real-life quest to create the smallest magnet ever known.

[[saving for future watching]]

I had an asian party, and I didn’t eat a lot.

*disillusioned*

*has lost part of personal identity*

*converts everything to sin/cos, adds a clever form of one, and pulls cotxsecx out of forehead*

*regains identity*

I think it was because most of the dishes were either meat (mom’s forte) or oxtail/”rice vermicelli” salad (dad’s forte). Used to subsiding on green stuff and fish, I didn’t eat with much vigor.


There were two young children. One constantly mixed up her consonants (as well as “up” and “down”) but was otherwise smart and cute. The other liked forks, bright lights, microwaves, steaming pots, cups, and styrofoam bowls. Combined, they made the house a waddling mess of flying viruses.

The fork-aficionado is half-Indian, half-Chinese. Just the melange of stereotypes boggles my mind.

He also kissed Mr. Squishyfish.

Now Mr. Squishyfish is kissing the Ionic Breeze.

Still..so…tired…

This morning, I woke up from a lovely dream (no clue what it was about, though I remember making an effort to remember it when I first woke up) and discovered that I still had jelly legs.

I’m serious! Heri nihil feci. NIHIL. Nihil nihil nihil. Nihillimus. Must’ve been the blasted 2 minutes of aerobic exercise on Friday.


If a+b=2

and

a squared plus b squared equals three

then

a cubed plus b cubed equals seven…

Muahahahaha. [that’s what I did this morning, before breakfast.]


A silicon bundt-cake pan, post-transformationes topographicales, potest videri improbulissimus.

[After the pan’s been peeled and lifted out of the bundt cake, it can appear very, very naughty. Teeee.]


*is still really tired.*

Pictures of enviable edibles will be posted soon.

Today I tried to figure out the whole “off the string” part of stringed-instrument playing.

According to a bunch of websites, flat hair=large bounce; slight angle=not so bouncey bounce. Because the bow bounces so much more at the tip than at the frog, does that mean that one should reverse the usual “flat at tip, angle at frog” advice (for max sound, anyway), and play with a more angled hair at the tip and flatten at the frog?

I can’t believe the regionals people picked Mr. Sinclair as “guest conductor.” Nothing against the man himself, but isn’t the purpose of regionals* to let kids play under someone different, so they can get used to different conducting styles? Or are they just pretending to hide in their public-school “ivory” (linoleum?) tower and ignoring how most of people in Southern Regionals play in one of two orchestras (or both) outside of school? [They=CT Music Teachers’ Assn.]

*just kidding, I’m fully aware that it’s just to get kids who know how to play their instrument to actually take “Strings” (instead of another AP) at their school and play “Chanukah, o Chanukah” in tune so the directors don’t get manically depressed. Like Marvin the Paranoid Android.

I’m really tired. It must’ve been the 320 kcal (1,338,880 joules!!! or 1.3 E6) yogurt parfait from Starbucks. Or the morning of trying to get my octaves to octave and arm to not seize up.

There’s an article in the NYT about dictionaries and word-snobbism and such. I wonder if Dr. Liberman says “nitch” or “neesh.” Probably the latter, actually, since she says everything else the proper French way (i.e. the way that make the word unrecognizable to the class, which subsequently goes “huh?”. Something like “you guys don’t know _______” ensues.).

Listening to an Italian guy say prayers in Latin into a really bad microphone can make even the hardiest Hertz sailor seasick.

Also, the AP English book from which I am correcting a classmate’s simulated exam is really simplistic in their essays. There’s no name-explain-support-conclude–the introductions aren’t even that attention-grabbing. Also, their little “this is how the poem goes, kids” sections are a whole lot like essays, and there are random sidebars about college financing.