Well, I've put off writing this entry for far too long, as should be obvious. I'm writing it now on Robert, in Albany on the way to the airport for my flight back to Pittsburgh. I think I remember the past week fairly well, though, so perhaps it's not so bad.
Last Monday, the only thing of note I did was go with some of my Value, Fact and Policy class to see Bowling for Columbine. We had decided to do this at the request of one student, and it was an interesting movie, although I felt that it jumped all over the place and that the main message (to the extent that there was one) was that there were no easy answers. Preston's son Adam, who was visiting, pointed out that the movie had fairly consistently shown us how our culture is infused with fear. We met at Preston's apartment (which is very large and nicely furnished, although Preston says that all of the books are just souvenirs rather than being actively referred to) and went there afterwards as well for discussion, pizza, and some other activities.
Tuesday I went to no classes; two of them had been cancelled and Mark and I were supposed to give a project review of our game, but we still haven't started it, and between that and Compilers, the next couple of weeks are going to be extremely challenging for me. I met up with Ed at 7:15 to get on the bus (since we were one the same flight), having somehow managed to stuff everything I would need for the week into one duffel bag (including my backpack with Robert inside). We had some a very interesting conversation on the way there and in the terminal, and at the airport the Godiva shop was sampling some kind of soufflé truffle. I bought a few more as well, and we were given coupons good for a free hand massage, so we headed over to that. They were just about to close, but we did get our free hand massages from a young woman. Ed talked with the other woman there, who was a certified massage therapist, about his own interest in massage therapy. Then we headed over to the gate. The flight wasn't listed as delayed, but we sat for probably 45 minutes on the ground for some reason or another. I was so tired that I slept through most of that and the flight as well, and then I met up with my mom and Vic at the terminal in Albany. Betsy was still up to greet me when we got home.
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Wednesday was my first car trip on my own. First my mom went to work and I took the car back home, picked Betsy up and dropped her off at gymnastics practice, and then I was on my way to Charlie's house. I thought that I would be nervous about driving a long way by myself, but it actually seemed totally natural, surfing the radio stations. My only mistake was overshooting Charlie's house by a couple of doors.
At Charlie's house I slept a lot. Not only did I fall asleep on Wednesday afternoon, but my mother advised me to stay overnight as well. Other than that, we played video games, ate (a lot of Vigo - red beans and rice), watched Sealab 2021 and Futurama (I gave Charlie the entire series of Futurama and South Park now that he has enough space to store them), and talked. He had me take him to Stewart's so he could see how I drove, and I wasn't too terrible. We bought Nerds Rope and eggnog and raspberry danish coffee cake there.
Thursday morning I left around 10 and realized I was out of gas after getting on the Northway, so I had to find a gas station and fill it up. Later my mom paid me back for some of the gas since the tank hadn't been full (not even nearly) when I started. I got home fine, in one piece and at 11:00 as my mom had requested.
Thanksgiving was fairly boring. It was just my mom, Vic, my sister and me. We had artichokes and ambrosia, which were both good. At some point around this I told my sister I would buy two batches of cookie dough from her (school fundraiser) if she'd make one of them for me, and she could keep the other herself. I thought at the time that they were $3.50 a piece for some reason, but she told me later that they were actually $10 and made something like 96 cookies each. No big deal. In the evening my sister and I went to the movie store and rented The Big Kahuna. I tried to go to the grocery store as well to get an energy drink, but they were closed. The movie seemed interesting from the beginning, but unfortunately I fell asleep during it and never managed to see the whole thing (I was very tired), so I'll have to see it for real some time.
On Friday I didn't do a whole lot of anything. We talked a bit about going somewhere shopping, but one car was in the shop for a while (the check engine light had come on, but they said they thought it was just an electrical glitch, but to take it to the dealer if it happened again) and it never happened, or at least I don't remember it happening. Eventually my father picked me up (my sister stayed for gymnastics practice on Saturday morning).
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People are probably starting to get worried/confused about why I haven't updated my site in so long (or maybe they don't care, what am I, a mind reader? Anyway). So I'm going to post the two updates below now, and work on the weekend and so forth as I have the energy.
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Whee, this gets easier the longer I wait, as I remember less and less... although that could be considered a bad thing, and if I let myself get more than a week out of date then the day names won't refer to the right days, so let's quickly try to get a little closer to caught up.
Friday night and Saturday night Revco and Clyde slept with me. It's so amazing to have cats sleep with you, even if they move into that area where your legs are bent and you really want to bend them the other way. I took a lot of pictures of my cats over the two days for which I was with them. I have a lot of pictures I really don't want to lose on my camera now. I think I copied most of them onto Laura, but I should do that again, just to be sure.
On Saturday we (my father, Nance and I) went to the Mayflower for breakfast. I took another reasonably long road trip by myself, this time to pick Betsy up from my mom's house (since she had been at gymnastics practice in the morning) and bring her down to Catskill. In the evening Uncle Ken, Aunt Susan, Brian and Natasha (and their puppy whose name eludes me - ah, yes, Bandit) came down to the house for a visit. We had cake and pie and stuff to celebrate my grandfather's 89th birthday (a bit late, but whatever). After that my father, Nance, Betsy and I went to the tiny Catskill movie theater (only two screens) to see Harry Potter. I thought it was reasonably good, if not breathtaking.
Sunday I didn't realize quite how early I would have to leave, since for some reason I thought there were going to be two trips, one for my sister and one for me, when in actuality there was only one. Nevertheless, I somehow managed to be ready to go more or less on time. We took my sister to my mom's house, dropped Nance off at Kinko's (she had volunteered to help Betsy out by making some copies) and my dad and I went to Borders since we had some time to kill. I didn't see anything that I felt like buying at the time, although there were a few interesting books and CDs.
We overestimated just how much time we had to kill, however. When we got to the airport, there was a ridiculously long line at the ticket counter. An attendant told me that if I had an e-ticket (I did) and an itinerary then I could just go straight to the security gate upstairs. I asked her what she meant by an "itinerary" but she didn't really clarify, instead urging me to just go upstairs. On the way to do this I ran into Genna. I recognized her face but wouldn't have been able to place who she was, but she said "hi, Kenn Hamm". We didn't talk for very long but she seemed nice. I guess she was going back to college too.
Anyway, when I arrived upstairs at the security gate, it turned out that I needed a printed itinerary, which had not been adequately (or at all, really) explained to me by the person who'd told me I could just proceed upstairs. So I went back downstairs and got back in line. At this point I was worried I wasn't going to get to the gate by the time my flight was leaving, but my dad reported to me that an airline employee had told him there was nothing to worry about. They started calling people as their flights got closer, and eventually they called my flight. I also began talking to the girl in back of me in the line, named Peggy (short for Margaret Oujack, which I saw on her ticket), although I didn't learn that until we were in the Pittsburgh airport. Anyway, I got my ticket, said goodbye to my dad, got through the security checkpoint fine, and arrived at the gate on time. Peggy arrived a couple of minutes later with another guy she'd met, Daniel (which I also didn't learn until in the airport at Pittsburgh), a CMU CS grad student. When we looked at our seating arrangment, we were surprised to all be in the same seat - me in the middle.
We talked all through the flight. Peggy was a student at Penn State, and after arriving in Pittsburgh she would have to take a puddlejumper to State College. Eventually we did get there and Peggy parted ways with Daniel and I, who proceeded to the bus area (I think this was his first time flying into Pittsburgh). We caught a bus and when we were about 2/3 of th way home, another girl asked me if I had attended the Albany Academy. I said yes and she said "Kenn Hamm, right"? She told me her name was Abby. She's a freshman student in design at CMU now. She said that she's the only one from either of the Academies this year to go to CMU. It appears that her full name is Abby G. Lynn and her Andrew login is aglynn (Andrew's finger system is ridiculously powerful). Furthermore, she swam breaststroke and her best time (or at least, her time in sectionals her senior year) was 1:20.35. Yay Internet.
I got back to Mudge, watched TV, and eventually fell asleep.
Damn, this entry is long. I still remember more than I thought I did.
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Although recent events and circumstances have compelled my recognition of the occasional advantages of keeping secrets, or generally of keeping information to myself, I don't like doing it. It's very aesthetically unappealing for me to be forced into a middle position. Something has to be either fundamentally good or fundamentally bad. If I want to share some information about myself, why wouldn't I want to share everything? Yes, the obvious countervailing interests. So then why not share nothing? Perhaps it's this that terrifies me - that nothing I say here matters, even a little bit, that I have no audience, that the mild thrill I felt from seeing an unknown IP having visited my site was instantly overridden by the recognition that it was Robert's when I was checking to see if my page had uploaded properly. Yes, I know I would have plenty of readership if I posted to LiveJournal. But I don't just want readership, I want people to care.
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I just watched a slideshow of Thomas' Laura pictures, first when the Moonlight Sonata came on (I have 678 Laura songs, 12 Linkin Park songs, and the Moonlight Sonata on my playlist, which is on shuffle, so I thought it was a sufficient coincidence to merit some recognition). I was going to let the slideshow finish, even though I had the delay between pictures set to 5 seconds and there were a ton of duplicates and thus it was taking much longer to complete than the music had, but the screensaver on Laura came on and for some reason refused to grab the keyboard to allow me to enter my password to turn it off. I was able to flip to a console, log in as root and kill the xscreensaver process (why can't I figure out how to turn the damn thing off entirely?), but I still figured that this was a sign to stop being so damn morose.
Let's see if I can catch up to now. The past week was a lot less exciting than the one before that, so this shouldn't be too hard.
On Monday my tooth started hurting. My dad said it was probably either an abscess or a cracked filling, and I think it may have been a cracked filling that miraculously uncracked itself, or at least moved back into its pre-crack configuration, since it hasn't been bothering me at all lately. Laura visited in the evening. Ed invited her over (after the KGB meeting, the same time as his usual visit) to my place when she said she needed company to do work. I wrote a very long document about that visit that I'm not going to post here.
Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday - I started talking to Thomas. I think it's going okay. I bought an external Firewire/USB enclosure in which to put one of my hard drives. I went to classes (not game programming). I'm in big trouble with regards to classes. I don't want to think about that, hence I won't write about it.
Friday evening I had several options, but I chose to go to Outback to celebrate Jeff Crilley's graduating a semester early. Vegetarians and steakhouses don't get along too well, although they did have one pasta dish with no meat (they had a chicken breast as an option even on that, as if to mock me). Nevertheless I ate a ton, and with its absorption slowed by the sheer mass of food, I woke up around 3 am with very high blood sugar (easily treatable, but still). Saturday I went grocery shopping. I haven't done anything interesting yet today.
Sheesh, I think that entry, which covered 6 days, was shorter than the one for just Sunday last week. Not that less happened, of course - I think the document I wrote about Monday is longer than some entire months in my journal, but I don't want to share it. It's good to be back up to date, though.
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Sorry for so many entries. I felt the need to note a little cycle. Thomas' favorite song is the Moonlight Sonata, right? So having listened to that, I go back to my business, and Leonard Cohen's The Great Event comes on. It talks about playing the Sonata backwards. I actually did play the Sonata backwards (reversing it with sox) and in the meantime, search Google for "moonlight sonata backwards", wondering if someone else had thought of it before. It turns out that it's an urban legend (with a grain of truth) that the Beatles' Because is based on the Moonlight Sonata backwards. Well, I went on Gnutella to download it, and when it finished downloading and I started to play it, I was surprised to recognize the piece. It's the end credit music to American Beauty.
Is the world really full of bizarre coincidences, or is my mind just wired to find patterns even where none exist? I can't prove one side or the other.
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Last night Mark had to go run a mile, so I went with him. He was only able to actually finish 2 (out of 4) laps of it, though, in 4:10. He went over to Skibo to record his time, and on the way back I said I'd like to try it too. Keep in mind that the track was half-covered with snow and ice, and it was quite cold.
Although I felt like crap after finishing, I managed to complete the mile, and did so in 9:32. I was quite pleasantly surprised. There have been times in the past when I haven't been able to run a 10-minute mile, and I haven't seriously exercised for years at this point. Of course, I did throw up after finishing, and was in a fair bit of pain for several more hours.
Later that night we went to Winners, which serves Korean food. It was pretty good, and the food was ample and combined with the rice was almost enough to make up for my absolutely abysmal diet these days, at least for a while.
Today I've mostly been working on Game Programming, as has Mark. I don't know how good what we turn in will be, but it's moving along. I suppose it's not totally impossible that I pull out of this semester without disaster, but it sure does look unlikely, at least as regards Compilers.
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First things first: if you're reading this page, it's either relatively far into the future after I've written it, or you've realized that http://ragnar.nilmop.com/kenn/default.html is, and should remain, the correct URL to access my site. Why this is suddenly relevant will become apparent in the next entry.
Thursday morning and afternoon (other than sleeping) I spent writing my final exam for Continental Philosophy. Eventually I turned it in, before the 4:00 deadline; I thought it was pretty terrible, but I needed to have it out of the way, so it wasn't worth taking the chance to turn it in late for a small deduction. After that Mark and I worked more on Game Programming. Friday morning I tweaked the AI to the point where Mark had trouble beating it, even though it didn't use healers or turrets at all.
At 11:00 Friday morning I had an appointment with Peter Lee to discuss Compilers. I explained my situation to him and he offered to let me take an incomplete in the course, which means that if I show him some more work I've done next semester, I can get a real grade for the course. That was a tremendous relief, coming as it did at a time of so much pressure.
Slighty before that I had started working on my essay for Value, Fact and Policy, but soon it was time to go the the Game Programming demos, at which everyone showed off their game. Our game didn't have very flashy graphics, but I thought it was one of the more fun games to actually play. Of course, there were a few teams who went far above and beyond, such as one who implemented most of Quake 3, and another which had some insane character animation. We cast our votes for most original game design, technical excellence, and best overall game, and then I went back to my room to finish my paper.
I was up until 3 in the morning finishing that paper, partly because I couldn't make myself work on it very consistently (I kept going over to Mark's room for fairly long "breaks") and partly because I hadn't started it until Friday morning. Nevertheless, I did manage to finish it, and the TA didn't seem to mind the time when it arrived too much (the assignment had said that it was due in paper form by 5:00 in the philosophy office, or "later that evening" by email). Go to sleep, wake up, make plans to meet Ed at the game programming party, go to the game programming party.
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The party was fun. They had pizza and soda and cookie, and James Kuffner (the professor) had "borrowed" an additional projector from the graphics cluster to put in Wean 7500. We played a lot of games, watched the intro and a few cut scenes from Xenosaga, and the winners of the previous days' competition were announced. Although I was unsurprised that Mark and I didn't win any prizes, I was surprised to learn that we had gotten votes in all three categories, when I said "I bet no one voted for us, but I'm curious as to what the vote totals were" to the professor and a couple of people within earshot said they had voted for us. I also got my first chance to play Dance Dance Revolution, which was fun as I had thought it would be, since I wasn't ashamed of doing so poorly. Ed showed up and played a few rounds of DDR with me before we took off to put Ragnar where he's sitting right now. I really wish I could own the projector in Wean. It projects onto a 20' or so screen, and looks really good. I've started to research projectors so that I have some idea what to buy when I have the money.
Ed headed back to my room with me, and I shut down Ragnar and carried him over to the UC, specifically to the KGB office. Said office is slowly morphing into a server room. There were already 4 computers there, which were using up all of the ports on the switch, so Ed and I went back to his place to pick up his switch, which he conveniently wasn't using at the time. We went back, hooked Ragnar up, fixed a few minor problems to get him working, and I took a few pictures and we said goodbye.
Later that evening my father arrived. He spontaneously started cleaning my room, but then the next day seemed pretty pissed that I wasn't ready to go (perhaps partially because I had stayed up until 5am that morning, yet still hadn't been packing). Nevertheless, we managed to get on the road at 11:45. The trip took 9 hours and 15 minutes, and would have taken 9 hours exactly had we not had to avoid one of the routes we would have taken because they were blowing up a bridge along it. I drove about 350 miles out of the 515-mile trip.
When I got home, I started watching Chobits, which I had downloaded from Bloodgod on a whim (specifically, one of the games for Game Programming had been based on it, so I recognized its name and thought I'd give it a try). For the next 2 days I did little other than watch Chobits and sleep. The setting: basically modern-day Japan, as far as I can tell, except for the "Persocons", which are androids which look exactly like humans and act however they are programmed. The premise: Hideki, a farm boy who's failed the college entrance exam, comes to Tokyo to attend prep school and try it again. There he finds an abandoned, extremely kawaii female Persocon abandoned in the trash, which has no memory and at first can only say "Chii" (which becomes her name).
I liked Chobits quite a bit. Although the idea of exploring changed in social structure through fiction may be slightly hackneyed (and I'm certainly not claiming Chobits was exceptionally original), and the characters are occasionally a tiny bit one-dimensional, the series is incredibly cute, and it did make me think about some of the issues that the existence of such a "slave race" could raise. Plus, there's one song - "Ningyo Hime", the second ending theme - that I could listen to on loop for hours (I'm listening to it now), and the music and drawing were both generally good.
Having finished Chobits, I watched some of the Family Guy episodes that Charlie had sent me. So many, in fact, that I only slept for a couple of hours last night, since I had to leave fairly early to come to my mom's house this morning. I brought Laura, and though there's only one monitor, the flexibility of having Laura with network access definitely made it worth bringing her. Today I didn't do a whole lot. After my mom got home, I went out to buy some groceries that I would like, and shortly afterwards, I collapsed for several hours from sheer exhaustion. And now it's now, and I go back to work for DMV again tomorrow, and have oral surgery in two days.
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I don't remember what I did on Saturday. I think not much - oh, right. Saturday evening I decided that I really needed to do some holiday shopping (having not started yet) and that it had to be at Crossgates, since I needed the selection in order to have a chance in hell of finding anything. On the way up, I had to be pretty careful because of the effects of the painkiller, and I postponed my next dose until getting home so it didn't affect me on the way back. I picked Betsy up in Delmar and she went with me. I bought Almost Famous for her, a pair of salt and pepper shakers for my mom, a flashlight for Vic, a "Parking for Pirates Fans Only" sign for my dad, and a compass for Nance. Picking out these 5 gifts took me about 4 hours, which is actually quite quick for me.
On Sunday, the Hamm family gathered in Catskill and went to Red's (a restaurant) to celebrate Christmas. My father, who apparently dislikes the holiday season more than he's ever really let on to me before, was especially unhappy with it this year, and wouldn't participate at all. However, Ken and Sue, the Tresners and Grandma and Grandpa were all there. By this point my range of foods was starting to expand a little bit, although I couldn't open my mouth very far (I still can't open it all the way). We went back to the house in Catskill, exchanged presents, and then the cousins headed home. Later that evening I taped a bunch of TV on Fox, and watched Futurama while it was on, but other than that I still haven't watched the rest of the tape.
I worked on Monday and Tuesday. Since Tuesday I've been here at my mom's house, with Laura again (I'm typing this on her). You know, it's funny how online, people seem like disembodied ideas and sequences of words and responses. As a matter of fact, ordinarily this would be way too much effort, but just to prove a point, give me a minute. (Not too hard since relative to your time, reading this, it's nothing at all.)
Okay, so it's not the greatest picture ever taken, but that's me, in my current surroundings. I am a human being. I occupy space, I have mass, and I feel pain. How often do people on the 'net think about this with regards to the people with whom they're interacting? Even people I know in person often seem totally different online. And I know that on those rare occasions when I do think of the people I don't know but who write the pages I read as more than mere producers of words, I have to consciously force myself to do so.
Christmas Eve and Christmas were okay. I got a bunch of presents, some of which were pretty nice and/or things on my Amazon wishlist, but now I have a whole bunch of thank-you letters I supposedly should write (I think I managed to get out of that for most of the Hamm family by thanking them in person when I received their gifts). I swear, I don't think it's that I'm ungrateful, but I hate writing thank-you letters so much it quite possibly exceeds the value of receiving a gift in some cases. I think I know why, too. My parents, especially my mother, tried very hard to force me to write them when I was younger (and has continued, albeit with diminishing efforts, even until now). My personality being what it is, this bred an intense arational aversion to doing so. I think that if I had been allowed to develop naturally, I would have grown into writing thank-you notes, but as is, I'm probably always going to loathe them. My parents have demonstrated remarkable ignorance of or apathy about my personality characteristics in other cases, though, so I suppose it's just part of a pattern.
I swear, I'm so averse to being controlled by other people that one of these days I'm going to end up taking up smoking even though I don't really want to. Kind of stupid how if smoking were "cool", I'd never even consider it, but now that smokers are near-outcasts, it makes me think of them as kindred spirits.
Despite the multiple feet of snow we received on Christmas, my grandparents came up here to visit, which was nice. They actually ran off the road on the way back home (and then didn't tell my mom about it), but no one was hurt and apparently the car must not have been severely damaged either.
I've been listening to a lot of new music lately (probably no surprise, as I've received some new CDs, downloaded the Chobits soundtrack, and so on). I like music. I don't think I could function very well in a world without it. Or if I were totally deaf.
My sleep patterns lately have barely deserved the name "pattern". I've often been staying up way, way, too late considering I have to go to work the next day. I've learned that I can function (minimally) for about 2 days on 2-3 hours of sleep a night, then I start collapsing. I'm almost certain this kind of sleep pattern is at least somewhat unhealthy, but I'm also pretty sure it's a very good idea to have some knowledge of what my limits are, and a relatively low-pressure time like now is probably best to acquire that knowledge, although I'm not doing it deliberately for that purpose - I'm simply so obsessive that when the things I want to do (plus the obligation to be at work and not-asleep for 8ish hours a day) collide with sleep, sleep generally loses.
Well, this entry may not be the deepest thing ever written, but I think it's pretty cool. You may want to read on to the next one since I just split it up to have two shorter pieces. Good night.
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Yikes, I didn't realize it had been quite so long since my last update. Oh well.
I guess not a whole lot has been happening, really. I had my wisdom teeth out last Friday, which has been strongly affecting my life since then. Let me tell the little anæsthesia story I've been telling everyone since then:
As you may or may not know, I've never been under general anæsthesia before this past Friday. I was hooked up to a monitor which measured my heart rate, blood oxygen level, and blood pressure, which was kind of interesting in itself. They gave me laughing gas, so by the time that they inserted the needle into my hand (which was how they administered the actual anæsthetic), I could still feel it, but it didn't really hurt. I could tell that I was going to pretty quickly lose control of my hand, at which point my arm would drop, so I guided it to my leg, although the staff did something to either prevent this or slow it down (I don't know exactly what). At this point I was starting to lose touch with my body. I began counting and reached 60 before I stopped (of course I was counting much faster than 1 per second). I was still able to hear things (I had closed my eyes a bit ago), but my ears were badly distorting sound, to the extent that I had no idea what the attendants around were saying. However, this was a temporary problem, and they "refocused" themselves so that I was once again able to hear and understand what was being said for a while. (It was just the attendants talking about things in their own lives, and I didn't remember the details even just after waking up.) By this time I was losing touch with my body fast, but the weird part is that I definitively retained the ability to have abstract thoughts after I couldn't really feel anything. (Of course, I was deliberately trying to do this.) I thought "Hey, I can still think". The next thing I knew, I was waking up.
My father tells me that when they took us to the next room, the attendant gave a bunch of complicated instructions (some of which weren't on the sheet they handed us), and I don't remember any of it. Nevertheless, I was writing down things on paper he handed me as I thought them (both to have a record and because the local anæsthetic on my lower jaw and tongue made it almost impossible to speak), and I remember doing so. I tend to be extremely trusting of my own memory, and extremely distrustful of anyone who claims it's wrong, at least when I have a clear memory at all. I remember one incident last (school) year when Mark claimed that I had woken up briefly (being extremely tired at the time) and told him I wouldn't be attending a class or something like that. I couldn't remember it, and I literally wouldn't believe him. So much later, it seems relatively unimportant, and I can almost admit that it did happen, but it still seems to me that admitting one's own memory could be flawed when one clearly disremembers something (i.e. remembers it as not having happened) or remembers it happening differently is only one step away from admitted and total insanity, at least for me.
They gave me hydrocodone as a painkiller, which apparently is very strong. For a couple of hours the local anæsthetic had worn off and the hydrocodone hadn't yet kicked in, and I was in pretty bad pain for that period, but after the hydrocodone started to work, it barely hurt at all. In the last couple of days I've been weaning myself off of it, since I was worried that stopping to take it suddenly might cause even more pain, and have had some pretty bad headaches which may have been caused partly by that, partly by at times very high blood sugar, and maybe other factors as well. My follow-up appointment for the surgery is on Monday.
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Kenn Hamm
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Last modified: Fri Dec 27 02:07:52 2002