Peace in Silence

"Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence." --Max Ehrmann

I have begun to take a peculiar delight in small pleasures. I have begun, in fact, to fully reject the slimy decadence of a constant desire for something better, the very disease that runs our current America. I find myself these days enjoying the taste of a ham and cheese sandwich, a moment of peace, or the way the light plays on a curved glass, as though I were recently released from bondage in some foreign cave. I find myself appreciating things in a way that is crudely represented by the phrase, "looking on the bright side." It is more than that, however; it is to purely ignore that which is unpleasant, insofar as it is safe to do so, and to accept and enjoy that which is enjoyable. For, why reject joy?

On Fridays I have a 7:30 AM lab, which was primarily a terrible idea, and which invariably means I do not get enough sleep the night before. However, when I am walking to class, I do not mind it at all. There are few people on campus at that hour and the air is generally pleasant. There was one Friday morning that I experienced an impossibly beautiful fog, and quite delighted in strolling through the soft air. Last week, the sky was an absolute symphony as the sun rose and spread his colors throughout the variously-shaped clouds, the visual incarnation of a loud and vibrant music, played for me and me alone since no one else seemed to hear it. To notice this, and not my desperate need for coffee, indicates that perhaps amid the homework and the noise I have found some small, perfect note of peace.

Difficulties in Mathematics

"Do not worry about your difficulties in mathematics. I can assure you mine are still greater." --Albert Einstein

Ever since I learned about undiscovered Mersenne Primes in seventh grade, I've had this idea in my head that I would eventually do something great and useful in mathematics. In one summer off, I forgot nearly everything I ever learned about calculus, so that seems a bit doubtful. Yet, I keep coming back to it, to million-dollar math problems and unsolved ciphers and whether P=NP, these problems of numbers or computer science to which no one on this earth knows the answer. I want to find these answers, decode the Voynich manuscript, solve the Collatz conjecture, find the next Mersenne prime. I don't, however, expect any of these to happen if I don't spend the time and effort on so much as my math homework.

I am currently taking an honors seminar class, called "Mathematical Modeling with Scientific Computing," that requires the ability to use calculus--at least the basics of integration. As I stated, I don't remember much of calculus these days, and problems that already have clear answers don't much interest me. Unfortunately, it is impossible to run a marathon if you haven't any legs, so I'm going to re-learn calculus by some means, as training for bigger things.

The final project for the class should be interesting. We are to mathematically model something that hasn't been done, or to expand on something that has been done--to strive to do something publishable. My partner (who is, mercifully, a math major) and I will be working in the realm of digital audio, attempting to create an algorithm that can automate sidechaining with a compressor (see the related Wikipedia if that meant nothing to you). My audio professor says that would be quite the useful plugin, to take out the guesswork by using frequency and amplitude and math. I am a bit excited about the possibility that this will be something useful in math done in part by me, and it almost makes me want to pay proper attention to calculus again.

Language Barrier

I never knew how much meaning I attach to the very syllables of the English language, until I started to learn French. I took two years of German and a year of Latin in high school, but this is my first language course where I have endeavored toward the eventual end of fluency. To speak by translating every word in my head is utterly inefficient, and could not lead to knowledge of the language, so I have been working to skip the step of mental translation and associate pure meaning directly with the words.

But how difficult this is! I did not know how much is held on the word, that single-letter word "I," until I tried to move that weight to the French "je." Such a heavy weight on such a deceptively tiny word! The prepositions cause less trouble, such simple words with simple meaning. But "room" I cannot reconcile. Those four letters create four walls before my mind's eye. "Salle" does not, to me, compare, does not build that tiny architecture in my head. It is abstract, it falls flat, it is meaningless. And never mind "word" itself! "Mot" is not "word." "Mot" is applesauce. "Mot" does not at all say "I am a tiny mess of letters that can mean so very much if you properly understand me."

I see why it is that as people get older, languages are harder to learn. It is not a lack of memory, some failing of the brain or tongue. It is simply too many years of colors and people and places and lines, too many years of habitual and unconscious association, to copy from every word of their mother tongue to the sister words of another tongue.

Musings About My Future Career

I don't really know what I want to do when I grow up, "grow up" being a relative term. I wish I could afford to be a student all my life, have nothing hanging on the grades or the homework, and really just hang out with professors and study and research and learn things that I find interesting. Good heavens, perhaps I ought to be a professor. Then again, I couldn't well stand to teach, and I hear that part is important.

I say I want to be a writer. I think I want to be a writer. But I do not know. I feel as though I may be one of those people for whom a career is only a side piece of my life, and is not my life; for a writer that is probably a good quality. What life experience belongs to the one whose entire life is writing, and of what shall anyone write except the experiences of his or her life?

Perhaps I shall fund my life experiences with the money I get from my writing. That would be working for a living, certainly. But how shall I begin? Is this why writers are poor, or waitresses? This is why I am not majoring in Literature. I do, in fact, have other useful and technical skills; I simply do not wish to use them for the remainder of my potentially long life.

I do want to be intelligent, and wise. I have some men I might call heroes; I want in some ways to be like them. They say if you want to be a millionaire, you must hang out with millionaires. Perhaps if I read their works, it will be like hanging out like them. I am currently reading a copy of some diary of Edison that I found in the electrical engineering section of UCF's library, as well as That Hideous Strength, the third book in C. S. Lewis's Space Trilogy. If I keep it up, this hanging out with men by reading the books of men, perhaps I, too, will share their intelligence and wit.

Alternatively, I might simply turn into a book.

Days Go By

Years are short. When summer came, I wasn't through with enjoying spring, and now today we've had the first comfortable day since the heat took over back in May or June and I wasn't aware summer was quite over. I do welcome the fall. With it comes cool weather and holidays and my birthday...I'll be 20 on October 26. I don't feel as though I've lived twenty years. To consider it two decades, I feel younger; to consider it twenty anni, I do feel I've lived more. As I said, years are short. Haven't I had more Christmases than this? More Halloweens, more Easters? More than twenty short years of breathing and living? I suppose each of my youngest years felt far longer; perhaps this makes up for it. But every subsequent year will surely seem shorter still, as a smaller percentage of my lifetime thus far. When I am thirty, I suppose I will wonder where the years went. If I make it to eighty I suppose I shall still feel I am forty! Except, I imagine, for my eyesight.

Buyer's Remorse

Very rarely do I regret not buying something. However, a few months ago I saw the most fantastic coat in Target, navy blue with white trim, sailor-esque and just utterly fabulous. It reminded me of a coat I'd had as a kid for the longest time, until I reluctantly outgrew it in middle school. But, I decided the price wasn't worth it for something I didn't really need.

Now, every time I think of buying clothes at Target, I think of the Coat I Didn't Get. I tried the Target website--was it Mossimo or Merona? Or neither?--and found nothing. They probably don't even stock it anymore.

There is no use in lamenting over that which is lost, but oh, how I wish I had that coat.

Small Life Improvements For The Sensible College Student

I am a college student. We don't eat well, we don't dress well, and we have crappy furniture. However, I am beginning to realize that some small pleasures can make everything seem amazing. And so, something for every major sense:

Sense of taste: I am slowly learning to cook. A whole new world of food possibilities has opened up to me. I am learning that j'adore butter, and things that are sautéd--which I just did to a bunch of shrimp to yield magnifique results. It takes so little time to cook up a chicken breast or frozen pierogis or stove steak, and my life is infinitely improved nutritionally over last year's diet of EasyMac, Chick-fil-A, Rice Krispies, and chocolate (all of which I still eat, of course, but generally less).

Sense of hearing: I bought a pair of green Skullcandy headphones last year to use for a class, and I listen to music with them now. They are far superior to basic earbuds in quality, and they look super cool. I get to hear more overtones and less outside noise, and they don't fall off so easily when I dance around (v. important).

Sense of touch/feeling: Warm socks make everything better, especially when you have a roommate who likes the dorm to be at 70 degrees at all times. Fuzzy socks are ideal, but anything thick and fantastic and good for sliding on tile will do as well. If you have a fleece blanket (or a Snuggie), that helps.



Sense of sight: If you don't have awesome posters on your walls, you are missing out. I also have photos that I have taken just taped to my wall, and a Hello Kitty mirror. Walls should be happy.

Sense of smell: Take out the trash and clean the kitchen before it gets disgusting. WAY before. Life will be better, I promise; Fantastik is one of my best friends.

Sense of humor: Go forth and laugh at MLIA. It's good for you!