CAG@LOCS#10
I think i just proved a lemma!
*squee*
So this isn't the great accomplishment i'm pretending it is, but it's relieving to finally have this argument worked out. Bloody shuffles would be the death of me. At least if they are i can now be assured they'll have to kill me schemily. (Don't ask.)
So this marks my 4th hour at a little table in Dottie's, fiddling and fretting (musical terminology unintended) over these nasty sneaky little matrix entries, and i've chased them at last into a corner from which (i hope) there is no escape. The task remaining, and no trivial one, is to translate my splotched notes indexing the ideas swimming around in my head into a comprehensible LaTeX document for Mark to read on Monday and subsequently make all sorts of revisions to. Woo.
This café, incidentally, has a lounge atmosphere that makes me feel like i'm at one of Dad's colleagues' houses in Bowling Green: the 70's and early 80's soft furniture (sofas, recliners, lamps, even ceiling fans), the wall mirrors, the lazy chalkboard scribbles, the peacock feathers . . . so chill. Comes highly recommended, if you ever find yourself with time to kill in Pittsfield, and not just because they lend their support to the WMLA. Be wary the veggie wrap, however, unless you're especially fond of mushies.
While i'm reminiscing: Last night i dreamt that i (a) hijacked lots of my friends' cars as part of a psychological study, (b) escaped from a strip mall full of assassins and velociraptors by doing Mario-style leaps and landing on their heads, and (c) reunited with Megan and Mishca. I have no idea where any of these three events came from, but i'd love to see a survey of my various (Comedity-style) personalities on the sorting of them by actual likelihood.
*squee*
So this isn't the great accomplishment i'm pretending it is, but it's relieving to finally have this argument worked out. Bloody shuffles would be the death of me. At least if they are i can now be assured they'll have to kill me schemily. (Don't ask.)
So this marks my 4th hour at a little table in Dottie's, fiddling and fretting (musical terminology unintended) over these nasty sneaky little matrix entries, and i've chased them at last into a corner from which (i hope) there is no escape. The task remaining, and no trivial one, is to translate my splotched notes indexing the ideas swimming around in my head into a comprehensible LaTeX document for Mark to read on Monday and subsequently make all sorts of revisions to. Woo.
This café, incidentally, has a lounge atmosphere that makes me feel like i'm at one of Dad's colleagues' houses in Bowling Green: the 70's and early 80's soft furniture (sofas, recliners, lamps, even ceiling fans), the wall mirrors, the lazy chalkboard scribbles, the peacock feathers . . . so chill. Comes highly recommended, if you ever find yourself with time to kill in Pittsfield, and not just because they lend their support to the WMLA. Be wary the veggie wrap, however, unless you're especially fond of mushies.
While i'm reminiscing: Last night i dreamt that i (a) hijacked lots of my friends' cars as part of a psychological study, (b) escaped from a strip mall full of assassins and velociraptors by doing Mario-style leaps and landing on their heads, and (c) reunited with Megan and Mishca. I have no idea where any of these three events came from, but i'd love to see a survey of my various (Comedity-style) personalities on the sorting of them by actual likelihood.