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Up all night researching the wonderful history of the Sutro Baths (even in ruins, still my favorite place in San Francisco) and whether the Large Hadron Collider is really going to destroy the universe or rupture the Poincaré-Einstein-Minkowski manifold, spewing out mad little D-brane wormholes into which I could escape across time to...the Sutro Baths. Because at the end of the universe, a good solid Victorian...swim is exactly what the doctor ordered.
Being a bit dyslexic, I really enjoyed typing and then retyping "Hadron collider" five times just now. Remember, physicists, take Leonard Cohen's advice and don't go home with your hadron.
So yes. Still have this blog then. The lease was up today but I renewed it, so you'll have another exciting year of infrequent and scientifically unsound posts to look forward to. About 20 of 'em, if present productivity is any indication.
Lots going on. Nothing I can pin on Poincaré, but lots of chaos and speedy changes. Back in Phoenix, lovely girlfriend is recovering well from the DVT so that is very good news. Here in Berkeley, lovely housemate had a good job interview today so that looks promising. I am writing while concurrently preparing for a potential move in the near future. Lots of non-fun (but non-acrimonious, really) legal stuff with the ex going on, a process that can surely only be improved by a planet-destroying chain-reaction-fusion-strangelet-cascade.
Then again, let's not. Despite the fact that its sheeting action would leave the galaxy virtually spotless.
My great-grandma Ida Mae Owen, who raised me from the time I was six, was born on this day in 1901. Here she is now, off to college in 1917.
She was amazingly cool. Lived a long and adventurous life. Filled my head with a world of stories about places and people long past. She would have loved the time-travel. I miss her.
Being a bit dyslexic, I really enjoyed typing and then retyping "Hadron collider" five times just now. Remember, physicists, take Leonard Cohen's advice and don't go home with your hadron.
So yes. Still have this blog then. The lease was up today but I renewed it, so you'll have another exciting year of infrequent and scientifically unsound posts to look forward to. About 20 of 'em, if present productivity is any indication.
Lots going on. Nothing I can pin on Poincaré, but lots of chaos and speedy changes. Back in Phoenix, lovely girlfriend is recovering well from the DVT so that is very good news. Here in Berkeley, lovely housemate had a good job interview today so that looks promising. I am writing while concurrently preparing for a potential move in the near future. Lots of non-fun (but non-acrimonious, really) legal stuff with the ex going on, a process that can surely only be improved by a planet-destroying chain-reaction-fusion-strangelet-cascade.
Then again, let's not. Despite the fact that its sheeting action would leave the galaxy virtually spotless.
My great-grandma Ida Mae Owen, who raised me from the time I was six, was born on this day in 1901. Here she is now, off to college in 1917.
She was amazingly cool. Lived a long and adventurous life. Filled my head with a world of stories about places and people long past. She would have loved the time-travel. I miss her.
