belly full o' bean soup

This will be an educational post. Don't worry, though; I know you've always wanted to be educated about the topic of this educational post.

Having read hundreds [possibly thousands] of books that have touched on briefly [or in great detail] either hay or straw, I often wondered aloud in my head, in the split-second moment that I pay homage to the tiny black dot declaring the statement I just read to be complete, "Are hay and straw two different things?" But then I continue on with my reading, and the thought is forgotten. Until the next mention of straw or hay. And the cycle continues.

Cycle, STOP. I am here to save the day.

Before launching into this eye-opening topic, I suppose I should mention what triggered my desire to be ignorant no longer. String of events commence!

• Jason and I like to read books to each other. We each have books we're reading separately on our own and then a nice easy read together. I wanted to reread the Little House of the Prairie series [nostalgia!] and since Jason easily gives in to my random whims and fancies, Laura Ingalls it was. [Adult observation: Ma Ingalls seems a tad racist against Indians.] We've made it all the way to the Long Winter, and I think it's safe to say that we are both thoroughly enjoying it. However, it is no surprise that hay and straw come up pretty frequently in this type of story, so... Event number 1. 
• Reaction:  Hm, what's the difference between hay and straw?  
• The Civil War era book I was reading on my own also mentioned straw and hay, though for a more amusing reason. Apparently, when recruiting young, probably not very educated, farm boys, there was the very irking problem of them not knowing their right from their left. When teaching them how to march in unison, this was... an issue. Hay and straw to the rescue! Obviously the poor lads, having grown up on a farm, knew the difference between hay and straw. So, tying a bit of hay to the left foot and a bit of straw to the right, their drill sergeants could guarantee marching synchronicity by referring to their "hay foot" or "straw foot." I find this brilliant and hilariously awesome. And, people, THERE IS A SONG.

March! March! March, old soldier, march!  

Hayfoot, strawfoot, 

Belly full o' bean soup.

March, old soldier, march! 

Event number 2.  

• Reaction:  Hm, what is the difference between hay and straw?
• As Jason mentioned in the previous post, we went to Kennett Square's Mushroom Festival this past weekend. [Incidentally, this brought back super strong memories (some really good and others not so much) of the hours spent in similar festivals helping out at my brother's booth. It's intriguing to me how clearly I can relive certain moments and how certain smells or sounds can instantaneously transport me to a different time. I like it.] There was a Mushroom Exhibit tent that was poorly queued. Inside the tent, there was just a long line of tables that attempted to show a progression of how to grow and harvest mushrooms. The first table had containers of various things such as... hay and straw [and horse manure, but that's not really relevant]. Honestly, the material in each little container looked the same to me, so it was only helpful in piquing my interest, yet again, to find out what in the world made hay and straw noticeably different. [I suppose I should also mention that the container labeled 'horse manure' also only contained a straw/hay-like material, which was very clearly not horse manure, so... maybe the material in the straw and hay containers was not actually correctly labeled either and that's why it all looked like the same stuff? (Hey {hay?}, maybe the horse manure was relevant!) Obviously, I did not understand this part of the mushroom presentation.] Thus concludes Event number 3. 
• Reaction:  WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HAY AND STRAW? Imustfindoutimmediatelyorlifewillnotmakesense.

So. Clearly, all of these events in succession demanded that I remedy my ignorance when it comes to hay and straw. Clearly. As soon as we got home from mushrooming, I went to the google and got 'er done. [FYI, searching for "What's the difference between h..." you will find that people have a hard time differentiating between 1) hair and fur, 2) here and there (??), 3) hotel and motel, and 4) hay and straw.] And now... With my newly acquired knowledge, I will enlighten those of you who fit at least one or more of the below conditions:

1. You are now unbelievably intrigued by the topic of hay and straw differences/definitions but do not consider it a good use of your time to search out these elusive truths for yourself.
2. You don't think there really is a difference between hay and straw OR you don't see the big deal even if there is, BUT you're willing to humor me and/or you feel compelled to keep reading since you've already devoted so much time and effort to it to turn back now.
3. You are a 5'2 Korean who is married to a dapper mathematician and you know you will later forget whether hay goes on the left foot or the right foot when teaching your children to march and you just need to jot down the information now for future reference.

If you said yes to one or more of the above, read on. Someday, this information may save a life [who knows?]. You are welcome.

What is it?

• Hay:  Green grasses or legumes [such as alfalfa or clover] cut and dried.
• Straw:  The stalks or shafts of grain [such as oats, wheat, barley, or rye] after being threshed and dried.

What is its purpose?  

• Hay:  Used primarily as fodder for animals.
• Straw:  Used primarily as bedding for animals [or basket weaving!].

What is the use of this information?

• Hay
• You own farm animals:  If you use hay to bed down your animals, they're probably going to eat their bedding.
• You own a cat:  If you use hay to bed down or feed your animal... no.
• You don't own animals:  You probably have no use for hay. 
• Hayfoot is left.
• Straw
• Good bedding.
• Good baskets.
• Good hats.
• Not very good food.
• Strawfoot is right.

What now?

• As it would be a waste of hay, you probably have never gone on a hayride. It was a strawride. Yep. Straw. Ride.
• It is very possible I am still sorely mistaken on the fine differences between hay and straw and some hay/straw expert out there is having a conniption because of my oversimplified generalizations.

Ok. Whew. I'm glad all of that is out in the open for the bettering of the world. 

Now, as is usual, I had several things I wanted to mention in this post, but my initial topic got out of hand and so everything else will have to wait until next time. Except there's this one last thing that needs to get taken care of...

Jason and I have typically used separate toothpaste. Weird, I know. We just each had the kind that we liked to use when we got married, and we kept replacing them until that was just what we did. So we had separate toothpaste. No big deal. Anyway, Jason's ran out recently and we haven't gotten around to replacing it yet so he's been using mine and you guys he squeezes it all into the front of the tube. I mean, he really just goes at it. Just squashes the thing, right on the very end of the tube. So every day I slowly squish it in the middle so that it all goes back to both ends and squirt out my toothpaste like the whimsically odd but ever so frolicsome person that I am, and every day he smashes it all back to the front. Oddly enough (because I've heard of couples fighting over this sort of silly thing), I think it's pretty funny. But, he may be getting his own tube again sometime.

My sentiments regarding Jason's toothpaste methods exactly. <3

frustration, mushrooms, and toothpaste

How can we relate these three things? Well you see, it all started when... Ok, just kidding. They're unrelated other than the fact that all three are mentioned in this blog.

It's been a tough few weeks for me in the math world. We're very close to finishing a nice (though small) result, just one little loose end to prove. It's crazy frustrating because it seems like there should be an easy way to do it, but nothing works. Twice now I've had what I thought was a proof, only to notice later there was a mistake.

This particular problem has frustrated a lot of people. Last year a friend at UD was working on the problem and thought he had solved it, which would have made a nice addition to his dissertation (he was graduating at the end of the spring). He thought he had it, but that same day (or maybe a couple days later?) he found out someone else had already submitted a proof to a journal. He left it alone and found something else to finish up his dissertation. He graduated fine. But it was frustrating for him to lose a month to this problem.

Jump forward to a couple months ago, the journal article is out, and we find out there's an error in the proof. Oof. Those guys didn't know the problem had frustrated them (their proof was short and easy, if only it had been valid), but I'm sure it's frustrating them now...

Now I'm working on the problem with my adviser. Why still work on it if my friend proved it last year? Yeah, his proof had an error too (although, in my opinion, a much less serious error than the guy who actually got his proof published...), so, more frustration.

We've been working on it a few weeks and we came up with a nice proof Tuesday to the part we had left. Excitement. I typed it up and noticed... nope. Mistake. It wasn't valid. So yesterday, one last time, I solved it. Elation. Relief. I went to a mushroom festival with Sharayah, even. Ok, I would have gone with her anyway, but still. Anyway, when I got home and reread it... No. Wrong. This problem. It's so stupid. Frustration.

So, I'm back to square one again.

Things I learned at the mushroom festival while I still thought my problem was solved: There are a lot of people who really, really like mushrooms. There are many, many different foods you can make with mushrooms. Mushrooms are sometimes grown from a bag of oats or rice or wheat or... lots of other grains depending on the mushrooms, and I think some other stuff was in there too, and they just let the fungus grow in it, and then it starts poking holes in the bag to grow out of it. There are also other (perhaps less weird) ways they grow some types of mushrooms. There are pink mushrooms. There are yellow mushrooms. There are not that many foods sold at a mushroom festival for someone who does not eat mushrooms. Oh! But I ate a frozen banana dipped in dark chocolate. They had a person in a banana suit at their booth. It was like I stepped right into Arrested Development. Without the dysfunctional family part. So. A++, would go again.

Sharayah and I have typically used separate toothpaste. Weird, I know. We just each had the kind that we liked to use when we got married, and we kept replacing them until that was just what we did. So we had separate toothpaste. No big deal. Anyway mine ran out recently and I haven't gotten around to replacing it yet so I've been using Sharayah's and you guys she squeezes it right in the middle of the tube. I mean, she really just goes at it. Just squashes the thing, right in the middle. So every day I slowly squish it all back to the front and squirt out my toothpaste like a civilized person, and every day she smashes it all back to the back. Oddly enough (because I've heard of couples fighting over this sort of silly thing), I think it's pretty funny. But, I may get my own tube again sometime.

foreshadowing

I go through weird phases.

One particular thing that I phase through every few years or so [and more often when I was younger] is my handwriting. This was much more noticeable in my pre-college years as I did much more hand writing than keyboard writing. I loved writing terribly thought out things just for the sake of going through the physical motions of writing. [There may also be some kind of link between this and my silly infatuation with pens/pencils/other office supplies...]  I would often deliberately change certain aspects of my handwriting just because one day it struck me to do so, and I would consistently use it until my brain said otherwise. It may be hard to visualize the examples that I'm about to awesomely bullet-point, but... do your best.

• Use a large lowercase rounded Y as a capital Y.
• Connect the large lowercase rounded Y to the next letter.
• Use a rounded lowercase Y.
• Use a sharp lowercase Y.
• Connect lowercase Y's to the next letter.
• Don't connect lowercase Y's to the next letter.
• Use a rounded capital W.
• Use a rounded lowercase W.
• Use a capital U with no tail.
• Use a lowercase U with no tail.
• Use a spurred capital G.
• Use a curved tail on a lowercase Q.
• Use a sharp tail on a lowercase Q.
• Use a lemur tail on a lowercase Q.
• Use a lemur tail on a lowercase G.
• Use a rounded bottom lowercase T.
• Use a straight-lined lowercase T.
• Use a cursive capital I when writing print.
• Use a print capital I when writing cursive.
• Connect lowercase X's to the next letter.
• Strike through Z's.
• Strike through 7's.
• Strike through 0's.
• Don't strike through anything.
• Add head and feet to 1's.
• Use rounded 2's.
• Use sharp 2's.
• Make 2's look like Z's.
• Only use cursive.
• Only use print.
• Only use small caps.

And I am fully aware that this is an entirely incomplete list. But it gives you an idea of the phases my handwriting went through. I wish I could say that I now find this type of thing beyond silly and "What in the world was I thinking?" but... I am afraid this would be an untruth. I still like doing this. I like taking one little thing and changing it and seeing what happens. I would test run a couple changes at a time for a few months and then add in something new or revert back to something old and keep going. 

Rest assured, I generally got rid of the stupid ideas [i.e. lemur tails].

Looking through pages of inane teenage writings, I find it entertaining [probably more than I should] to see how differently my handwriting style looked from one year to the next because of these little tweaks. I am weird. I accept this. We will be better friends if you accept this, too.

Just FYI, there were also some unwritten rules in my head regarding changes to my handwriting. To name a few...

• NEVER MAKE 5's LOOK LIKE S's.
• NEVER DOT I's WITH HEARTS.
• NEVER HAVE LOWERCASE LETTERS CAP HEIGHT.
• NEVER MAKE SNOWMEN 8's.
• THAT IS NOT A SIGNATURE.

And against all logic, I am still a firm believer in my number 1 rule of handwriting:  The tinier, the better. At this, I am a pro. I am a handwriting fiend. The end.*

Moving on. Phase 2.

I like names in general. I dislike certain names in the specific. I can become rather obsessed with names that catch my fancy. When I was younger [oh my bovine, has it really been 14 years?], I had an out-of-control list of names that I really liked. But what's one to do with all of these names and no real people to connect them with? Easy peasy:  Write a story with 50+ "main" characters. This, folks, is how good writing is born.

I had a problem, however. As time went on, my awesome names started sounding less than awesome. And if I no longer liked the name as much, I no longer cared about the character as much. What's a writer to do then? Peas! Just demote them to become a secondary character! Ah, writers have so much power. Ah, my "likes" are so phase-prone.

But here I am now. Nearly an a-dult. Murried off to a mathman. My childhood stories now reduced to gathering dust under my nightstand. But I still like names. I constantly have a running list of "favorite" names in my head, and about once a week, I'll randomly ask Jason, "What do you think of the name ___?" in the hopes that he will validate my current consideration for the Elite List of Names.

I don't think he understands the game. But he generally humors me with his input.

So, here I am now. My Elite List waxes and wanes, bringing in new awesomes and kicking out the what-was-I-thinking?'s on a semi-regular basis. I need to solidify this list somehow. Instead of story-ing them to life, I have decided that I will rename the Elite List to now and forever more be called The Future Half-Asians. This list just became real, yo.

Sure, this means Thaddeus is no longer a candidate, as well as Methuselah and Jupiter Moon!, but I have gradually come to terms with this. I do not think I would ever deliberately invoke a lifetime of mockery upon my child just for the sake of my passing entertainment. [And even if I would (I wouldn't!), I have Jason who most definitely has enough mercy (and final say) for the both of us.]

With that said, however, sometimes my brain explodes with all of the tantalizing options out there [only correctly spelled, symbol-free, and pasture-fed names are eligible, of course]. A conundrum that Jason and I have encountered is that we tend to like first and second name combinations that sound extremely... ethnic? cultural? tastily flavored from an identifiable region? Whatever the reason, I am afraid [and unbelievably entertained] that our kids might end up with names that would give me another option for family photo arrangement:  Country of Nominal Origin.

It is late and we have had an extremely fun but exhausting date day, so I know that my brain has jumped tracks and now this post is not very cohesive and is really rambling and seemingly pointless but there's nothing I can really do about that at this point so I suppose I should just stop the madness ASAP. Just know, there was a point to all of this, and I think it had to do with knowing when something is "good forever" or just "good for the moment." It's hard to say. The point may have been something even more vague. I'm sleepy.

You know you want one. A pig pillow bed, that is. Oh, and the kitten.

*Despite being Asian, I have yet to try my hand at inscribing poetry on grains of rice, but if you disregard this tiny [ha!] fact, "I am a pro" still stands true.

boom (crack, snap)

Last week we awoke to the glorious sound of a thunderstorm. Not since living in Texas have I heard such a lovely storm. I really find it peaceful and relaxing to hear the pouring rain and distant thunder rolling. We have thunder here sometimes, too. It's just not remotely the same. It's always very timid and very brief. This storm was like the ones I grew up with.

Apparently that's because it was right on top of us. Our building was hit by lightning (so they fire department says, though they couldn't find where it hit). It was an unbelievably loud boom, followed by (the astute will have guessed) a crack and a snap. Maybe two cracks, or two snaps? Those two I think are similar in this context. Anyway the fire department showed up because people in the upper floors reported smoke and/or sparks. Panther reacted to the noises of the firemen and maintenance guys outside by slinking into our bedroom and yowling quite peculiarly, while puma got into the cabinets where we store beans and potatoes and hid behind those (actually a very effective hiding spot, but he was in a lot of trouble for it).

The firemen never found any fire, though they did knock a hole in the wall somewhere (not in our unit, but we'll get holes in our walls soon, so don't worry). By the time they were wrapping up, it was starting to smell like gas in our apartment. I told one of the maintenance guys who was milling about, and he got a fireman to come check it out with one of their little gas detectors. It didn't show any gas. Huh. They thought the smell might be something to do with the sprinklers that had gone of in some units (thankfully not ours!). Apparently sometimes the water sits in a tank somewhere for a very long time and often gets really gross. I never knew that. So they left.

By then it was time to get to work, but alas, our cable modem wasn't working. Probably related to the lightning. It must have gotten a power surge or something. I spent a while trying to get it to work (it still turned on, it just didn't work anymore), but eventually gave up and had to go buy a new one. Throughout the day we continued to smell what we thought was gas. We opened the window in the evening to get rid of whatever the smell was. That night we discovered that the TV had also fallen victim to the lightning. I try not to be materialistic, but this was actually pretty sad. We can't really go buying a new TV every couple years. We only got this one from saving up money from Christmas and birthdays. Sigh.

The next morning a guy from the gas company came by because enough people in the building had complained of smelling gas in their units that they believed us that maybe the fireman had been wrong the previous day. Yeah, we had a gas leak. It was somewhere in the actual gas line inside the walls. Apparently most of the gas was getting into the apartments above us, since the leak was inside the walls. Still, there was enough in our unit to detect it. Cue holes in the wall. At least they were interior walls. First they knocked some holes with a hammer, and later that day someone came to make a path in the wall for a new gas line to be installed. Basically he cut a 1ft tall opening in the wall from the laundry room to the back bathroom to the exterior wall, where they'd later drill a hole for the new gas line.

That was on Wednesday, so I guess now it's been a week since they cut the gap in our wall. The guy finally came back yesterday to put the gas line in. Now we have to wait for someone in the county to inspect it before they can fix the wall and turn back on the gas. I'm guessing the inspector (who works for the government) will take even longer to show up than the contractor who put in the gas line, so who knows when we'll have a wall. Honestly, we're not worried about the wall. It's kind of funny, and isn't going to cost us anything.

Meanwhile, our renters insurance told us they would cover the TV and the modem, although they wanted us to first take the TV to a repair place and get an estimate to see if it can be fixed. If it's fixable, then probably it will barely cost more than the deductible so I don't even know if we'll do it. But we still don't know, because TV repair places apparently take at least as long to give an estimate as contractors take to come install gas lines. We also don't know whether our Wii and Xbox 360 are working, because we have no TV to plug them into. They both turn on, but so did the TV. At least it pretended to. Made that clicking noise. Lit up the little light around the power button. Then nothing, the screen never came on. So for all we know those are also busted.

At any rate, we're still alive. The gas leak didn't cause us any harm and the stuff that was damaged was just stuff. Plus, I got the TV box out of the back of the closet when we took the TV to the repair place, and now we're using it to block the kitchen from Puma. He does not like it ("It's super effective!"). But. I don't really know how to feel about thunderstorms anymore.

I'll stand 

state of mind

<begin ramble>
Welp. The transcription world has been pretty consistently frustrating for the past few weeks. Jason has been rising early to teach his summer calculus class while still banging his head on his desk routinely in the afternoon about his research. The black cat graces us each morning with his pleasant piles of presents outside the litter box. Ants continue to investigate our apartment's entryway. The gray cat sits on our cutting board and contaminates our vegetables with his long hairs. I have a tiny red spot on my chin that seems as noticeable as a volcano spewing crocodiles. People have terrible driving habits. My hair is an untamed jungle. People are inconsiderate. Jason's hair is a desert without an oasis. People are illogical.

Sometimes it all builds up to the point of the tiniest thing seeming insurmountably aggravating. I want to gripe. Complain. Cry. Be angry. Quit. Curl up in a ball. Just make everything go away.

But I know deep inside [and really, I don't have to dig that deep inside] that my current perception of the world isn't all that accurate. I know life is good. It is. I just need to reorient my head.

I may need to put in some extra hours in the evenings to make up for the sparse daytime production, but I never come up short by the end of the week so I just need to quit stressing over it. Jason has to put in a lot of hours, but he is making progress towards his PhD and that's all he needs to feel responsible for, and with the close of yet another summer session, X number of students now have a better understanding [if not appreciation] of calculus because of him. Panther is an animal who just wanders about our house [yes, Jason and I both consider animals living freely in our place as just a very fascinating thing, for whatever reason]. While we do have ants visit us from time to time, we also have a praying mantis who lives on our screen door  who eats other gross bugs for us. Win. [Though I do not advise watching the consumption process as it really grossed me out.] Puma is an adorable fluff monster who purrs me to sleep every night. Red spots disappear; volcanoes spewing crocs do not. We are alive and safe. Chopping my own hairs is a joy. More opportunities to practice kindness should be met with a smile. I like Jason's head. Illogical opinions or actions do not have to affect my logical choices.

And really... Life is good. We have had absolutely delicious meals of late and our refrigerator is stocked unbelievably full of tasty things. Each mealtime is exciting and just thinking of it makes my mouth water. We have adorable miniature calendars that not only make me happy when I see them and when I get to mark a day or task off but which also make me happy because they have added some much needed routine to our lives in various little ways. Our moods can be easily lifted by a spontaneous waltz around our apartment, some time spent lying on the floor, or [for me] letting my arms and legs dangle freely [this is one of those "you have to be there" kind of things] or spinning or spooning or pretending to be choo-choo training in the dark. We have our plans and our spreadsheets and our bottles of randomness and our laughter and our health and our peace of mind.

Life is good, and my personal goal is to minimize my lapses into the negative world of complaining. It really is just a state of mind and one that I have full control over. Nothing comes from griping. It's a complete waste of time. There is good if I choose to see it.
<end ramble>

It all depends on how you look at it.

red delicious apples are the worst

I don't know who named red delicious apples, but they are a liar. Those are the worst apples I can think of. How did red delicious become the iconic apple? Need a picture of an apple? Here's a red delicious. We had plenty to take pictures of because no one wants to eat any of them. Even among the red apples, red delicious is the worst one. They're soft and pulpy and their flavor is just plain and boring.

We should start a coalition to abolish the production and sale of red delicious apples. I dream of a future where we'll just eat galas, or fujis, or pink ladies when we want red apples. I dream of a world where red delicious is no longer in lists of the 15, or 10, or (gasp) 3 most common or popular apples. What in the world? Stop it, they're no good! Together we can make the world a better place. No more red delicious!

not even once

but even if not

"If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and He will deliver us from Your Majesty's hand. But even if He does not..."

I have always liked the story of the three fellows and the fiery furnace. Perhaps it is because of watching VeggieTales' Rack, Shack, and Benny oh so many times [the Bunny Song is powerfully catchy, you know]. Or maybe it is the natural appeal of Men Thrown in Fire and Survive Without a Single Burn [you just cannot top that epic-ness (though I suppose "Eaten and Subsequently Spit Up by Huge Fish" or "Spend a Night in Lion's Den with Undomesticated Feline" or "Dead for Three Days and Live Again" are pretty ridiculous feats as well)].

But I think what makes Daniel 3 really stick with me is the response given to the king when he gives them the ultimatum of bowing down to him or being thrown to a fiery death. They confidently acknowledge the power and unquestionable ability of the God they serve to deliver them from their current situation [despite the king's insistence otherwise]. They seem to have not a doubt in their minds that their God can deliver them. And that in itself is a good reminder to take away from this story. No matter the circumstances or overwhelming odds or seemingly inevitable bad ending, God is able to deliver us from it. Period. To believe otherwise is to completely disregard a huge part of His character, a huge part of who He is in our lives. He is our Deliverer [read a few psalms if you want a refresher].

But even that aside, what sticks out to me personally is what they continue on to say. "But even if He does not..." But even if He does not. Even if He does not keep the bad from happening, prevent the sickness from killing, deliver me from my enemies... Even if He does not, it doesn't make Him any less God. It doesn't make Him any less good. It doesn't make Him any less present. Those men, no doubt, were hoping God would deliver them from being thrown into the fire. They knew He was able to do so. But at the same time, they knew it did not really matter. If He did not deliver them, they were not going to change their beliefs or actions. Their trust and faith would not be shaken. Even if God did not deliver them, they knew He would still be with them. Even to death.

I like this. It's a good reminder. Even if the bad happens, even if pain comes, even if death is imminent, my God is the all-powerful Deliverer. He is able to deliver me no matter how gloomy the outlook. But even if He does not... I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that He will stand with me through it all. And really, that's all I really need.

Then King Nebuchadnezzar was astonished; and he rose in haste and spoke, saying to his counselors, “Did we not cast three men bound into the midst of the fire?”

They answered and said to the king, “True, O king.”

“Look!” he answered, “I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire; and they are not hurt, and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God.”

On an entirely different note, last night was the first night in well over a week that I was able to sleep through the night. Not once did I wake up. I didn't have to miserably sit in the dark trying to stop coughing long enough to fall back asleep. No feelings of someone punching me in the stomach every time I coughed. It was lovely. 

I don't think I've been this sick in a long, long time. I really can't even remember the last time I felt so awful. The days of fever and aches were absolutely miserable. I have never had aches so bad that it actually hurt to have someone touch me. It was so weird. Generally, my coughing phase is always the worst and longest part of my being sick. I think it's always been that way. But this time, I actually coughed so hard and so often that my sternum actually felt bruised and was super painful every time I coughed. Unpleasant. 

Ah, health. Thank you, God. Taking a breath never felt so good.

Slightly related note:  I must cut my hair. It is entirely too long and annoyed me to pieces while I was sick. I think another self-hacking is in order. Oh the excitement! Snip snip snippety snip! Now where can one find a whetstone...

This is what I feel like.

The Far Oasis

Sharayah and I have both been sick for several days - me since last Monday, and Sharayah since Friday or Saturday. Pretty miserable sometimes, but we're toughing it out together. Today Sharayah asked me to tell her a story to help her feel better. She asked for a story about a camel and a porcupine who become friends. Well. This was the best I could do. It's obviously just silliness, but it was well received. When I was done, we drew pictures to illustrate the story, so I've included those here.

Warning: if you are not a 5-year-old little girl, or in the state of one, this story may not be for you.

Now, on to the story.

The Far Oasis.

Once upon a time, Camel was going on one of his long walks in the big desert.

Camel loved going on these long walks, but there was a great peril to the desert. You see, Camel never paid attention to where he was walking and, as you know, deserts are full of cacti. Camel was always getting cactus pricklies stuck in his legs where he would bump into them. Camels are not very good with opposable digits, so Camel usually left the spikes where they were.

This day would be different.

Camel was walking through the desert as we mentioned before. He already had 2 spikes in one leg and 3 spikes in another because the clouds were very pretty today and he kept looking up. It was while he was looking up when he suddenly stumbled upon a strange little creature. It was like a cactus because it was covered in spikes, but it wasn't green and it had feet and eyes. Well, it had a whole face. If this strange creature hadn't seen Camel coming, he might have been kersplatted, and Camel would have had a very sore foot. As it happened, Steve the Porcupine saw that big foot coming and let out a yelp.

When camel looked down and saw the strange creature, he said, "Oh hello there, little brown cactus. Sorry I almost stepped on you." Steve said, "I'm not a cactus. I'm a porcupine."

Camel and Steve talked for a while and found out that unlike most porcupines, but much like our friend Camel, Steve liked to go for walks in the desert. However, he couldn't go far because he wasn't  good at finding water and he was scared he would get lost. However, he was good at getting spikes out of camels, which he did while they chatted.

He was so good at it that Camel barely noticed. It didn't hurt a bit. Camel told Steve that he could come along on his walk and he would be sure they would find plenty of water and not get lost.

Thus began the greatest companionship between camel and porcupine that ever would be.

Steve began to join Camel on his daily walks. They both had plenty of water and no one had spikes stuck in them for very long, unless you count the spikes that were a part of Steve. On one of these walks, they decided to go all the way to the Far Oasis. This was a very long journey, and even Camel had never gone so far, though he had heard it was a wonderful oasis. Camel assured Steve that all would be well because he knew of a good route that should have enough stops for water. They set off immediately.

When they were about half way, they encountered a strange thing. A big lone bird was circling in the sky. He swooped lower and lower as they walked. As they approached their third pit stop of the day, the bird landed on a small tree by the water.

The bird's name was Phil, and he was a vulture. We can't say why, but he didn't want them to get all across the desert. He wanted them to get stuck in the middle. Phil pretended to be polite. "Hello there, old chaps. You wouldn't be headed toward the Far Oasis, would you? I was just there this morning. They have bad weather. You don't want to go there. Plus, there was a giant cactus patch halfway in the way. You'll get covered in spikes. You should head down to the Dark Valley. From what I hear, there's a big family reunion of camels and porcupines in the Dark Valley, and it starts tonight."

Well, when Phil first began his speech. Steve and Camel were skeptical. To start with, Camel was usually good at sensing weather and, furthermore, there wasn't a cloud in the sky. However, Camel and Steve had often longed to find a herd of camels and porcupine to call their own. "Say, Camel," said Steve, "maybe this strange bird is right. Let's go to the Dark Valley instead."

They set off at once. At first, everything seemed fine. The farther they got from their original path, the more they were unsure. Camel couldn't find an oasis where he thought one should be. The clouds started showing up and looming over them. Sometimes they thought they spotted that old vulture circling above. What finally tipped the scales was when they found the cactus pit. Far and wide, cacti as far as the eye could see.

They were sure this wasn't right. Camel did not want to go through such a big cactus pit, even with Steve there to help remove the spikes. Regretfully, they had to turn back. They were very sad they would not find that herd of camels and porcupines, but by now they were not sure it ever existed.

Slowly and wearily, they made their way back to the oasis where they had first met Phil. It was a long walk and they were very thirsty. Camel was doing pretty good, but little Steve couldn't store nearly as much as water and he was beat. They walked and walked, the hot sun beating down, and just when Steve thought he couldn't go anymore, Camel found the oasis. After they refreshed themselves, they had a hard decision. Should they go on to the Far Oasis or should they head back home? They decided to press on to the Far Oasis. It turned out it was smooth sailing. The weather was crisp and cool, and there was an extra oasis along the way. There were barely any cacti, and Steve only had to remove 2 spikes from Camel the rest of the trip. Finally, they reached the Far Oasis.

They could not believe their eyes. Not only was there a great oasis with sparkling streams of water and tall, cool trees, there was a strange herd on the other side. They could swear they saw some camels. Not only that, they were quite sure there were porcupines.

Why had that grumpy old Phil sent them the wrong way? They just couldn't figure it out, but they decided it didn't matter. They ran as fast as they could to join their new friends. Of course, Steve and Camel were always the best of friends, but they enjoyed having a whole new group to be a part of.

Sometimes on a very clear day, they thought they might see old Phil circling in the distance. No one knew for sure why he had been so mean. Maybe he was just lonely and jealous. Sometimes Camel and Steve went for walks in the desert, but Phil never talked to them again. They always enjoyed their walks together, but instead of going home alone, they came each day to Far Oasis to join their very own herd. They lived happily ever after.

the Mundane Facts

Mundane Fact #1:  Flamingos and Owls are not compatible.

I must have slept like a flamingo last night as I have not been able to turn my head to the right without feeling an odd tugging sensation by my shoulder. It is just unpleasant enough that I won't mind when it sorts itself out, but it is also not so unpleasant as to keep me from repeatedly trying to turn my head to the right and pretending I'm an old arthritic owl who can no longer enjoy 270° head rotation.

Mundane Fact #2:  An air popper is as acceptable as a hairdryer.

In order to best prepare for movie nights on a semi-vacation, popcorn, seasonings, and [of course] a popcorn popper [which, in my fingers' current state (typing with the dexterity of squashed penguin sausages), I just typed as a "popcorn pooper" (which almost {not really} still makes sense)] were hauled cross-country amidst the rest of our not-entirely-necessary belongings. Happily, we have made good use of it all and have enjoyed a couple relaxing movie nights eating tastily seasoned popcorn. What we did not think of prior, however, was whether a popcorn popper [dangit, I just typed... Well. You know.] would be too noisy for a hotel room late at night. What with the whirring and blooshing and popping and, of course, the squeaks and squeals coming from me every time an unpopped kernel ricocheted out of the bowl, it is a decently noisy event. We decided to risk it, and lo and behold, we received zero angry phone calls. Whew. The conclusion that we came to was that, realistically, the popper was really only as noisy as the hotel-supplied hairdryer. And who can complain about drying hairs? So... Success!

Mundane Fact #3:  Home is where the heart and laptop/internet are.

Working from home has its perks, prime among them being the ability to work from home [it makes sense]. Working from home also has its slight drawbacks:  Work can go wherever there's an internet connection. During our 2 weeks of Wyoming math conferencing, pretending to be vacationing, and ice-cream-ing it up, I have had to work normal old work hours, get this, as if I were at home. It is nearly criminal, I tell you. I really cannot complain, though. The advantages far outweigh the hours of work. I had an immensely fun 26-hour car ride filled with so many different stories and sights [and we get to do it again in a couple of days!]. I had an absolutely terrific [and utterly exhausting] day of exploration at Laramie's Turtle Rock. And, most importantly, Jason and I get to continue our 1,873 day streak of never, ever having to be apart. I know it may be silly, but this is a big deal. I have such a good life. Anyway, so I have been working away while Jason has been mathing, and because Jesus loves me [or due to the change in time zone (Mountain Time isn't a real time zone) and, thus, the change in what hours I'm working] I have had pretty easy-going work weeks while here. Productivity for the win.

Home away from home.

Mundane Fact #4:  Life in a snow globe is incredibly humbling.

Wyoming isn't terribly flat as one might suppose. But at the same time, it has a really neat feeling of openness that often gives you a feeling of flat lands. You can see mountain ranges all across the horizon, the sun sets in [I'm fairly certain] all directions, and [at least in Laramie] the cities are all short enough to keep up the feeling of open lands everywhere you look. I find it a gorgeous change of scenery for 2 weeks. When I go outside and look around, I like to imagine I am a tiny little Korean in the middle of a gigantic and insanely detailed snow globe. You can see exactly where the sky meets the land no matter what direction you look. When you look up, you know you can see the arching glass of the globe way, way, way above you [the Maker of the snow globe tries to distract you from seeing it by putting perpetually changing clouds (tiny penguin! horse head! t-rex making a bed!) all around, and it works swimmingly, I tell you]. I am always waiting to feel someone shaking my little snow globe of a world. I just want to frolic in the snow! But sigh, it is now officially summer, so I suppose that is not realistic. That aside, however, I have found the environment of this part of the country exhilarating. Its snow-globe-ish feel is refreshing. I find myself constantly in awe of the most ordinary things. This trip has been a lovely reminder of the ridiculous amounts of beauty and awesome that we live in. [Just so your senses don't get overwhelmed by it all, Wyoming kindly puts in over-filled trailer parks to keep your feet grounded in reality.] I love snow globe life.

Waiting for the snow.

In a couple of days, we will start our trip back to Delaware. While we have gone through the Books We Read Aloud a bit faster than I thought, I think we'll have just enough to get us the 26 hours home, plus the Books We Listen To have plenty of hours left. And for the sleepy times, I don't think we'll ever run out of the Music We Play Really Loud since we literally brought along our 200 Perfectly Alphabetized CD collection. We are such good travelers. :)

Until next time!

This is what it feels/looks like being Asian in Wyoming.

the equality state

Well, we made it to Wyoming. It was quite a long drive, but it was actually pretty enjoyable. We seem to be pretty good roadtrippers. We listened to a lot of book on tape (only 1 book, but a lot of hours in it), Sharayah read a few books out loud (including Hank the Cowdog! Sharayah's Drover voice is great, though he seems sadder than I remember), and we rocked out to good music whenever we felt sleepy. Our little room has a nice view that gets a beautiful sunset each night, and we get breakfast in bed each morning (although I have to go get it from the lobby and bring it back, it's still very nice).

I was surprised to find out that the elevation of Laramie is over 7000 feet. By the way, if you find yourself in such a city, be careful when you open liquids that were originally closed in Delaware (average elevation 60 ft). Even at the local Walmart, everything that's sealed is puffy. You can tell none of it came from here. We got some hand sanitizer and somehow forgot what happens, and... well, my car is very sanitary now.

I was also surprised to learn that Wyoming is The Equality State. They named it a long time ago. As a certain little Korean noted, "I don't think 0.8% is equality." Apparently only 0.8% of the population is Asian here. This state is over 90% white. Maybe that's what they meant by equality? I still think it's silly that they even track such things, but it's a little funny.

The conference has been pretty interesting so far. It's a little tiring sitting and listening and trying to learn new things for so many hours a day (I was about to ask how we used to do it in high school, but then I remembered that you don't learn anything in high school...), but the talks have been good so far. It's a little funny putting 60 or 70 math people in a room and watching them interact. I can make fun of us because I am one of us. Most of us just aren't experts at being social, but then we all have a similar interest so we all try to talk to each other about it. Actually there are enough people who are good enough at it to carry the conversations and avoid awkwardness, but if we weeded out those 10%, man. That would be something.

Perhaps I will give more updates as it goes.