nawl

News flash: when all four classes have assignments due in the same week, I don't have time for much else.

Apologies, dear neglected blog.

There is a golf course separating the grad college from the rest of the campus. Every day I walk past rows of golf carts neatly parked in a row, and evil thoughts enter my mind. Have *you* played GTA: Vice City?

These are the leaves on my way through campus:

I bought a bicycle. It is beautiful and shiny and quiet. Every day I lock it next to the rusted-out hulls of older bicycles and know that soon enough it will join their rusty ranks. Some people park their bicycles under the archways, just locked to themselves or to nothing at all. This scares the heck out of me. As does leaving my (ground floor, unbarred) windows open during the day. Perhaps I spent too long in Berkeley.

A single branch of yellow leaves in the rain:

I like having an office to work in. When I go there I can enforce a rule of no distractions besides email. The sound of the little Unix-beep brings such warmth to my heart.

The trees outside of the CS building all turned yellow one day. Then the rain knocked off all their leaves:

It's a small, small world. One night over dinner, I was discussing the difference between American and international style ballroom, and got up to demonstrate a foxtrot feather-step. Later a guy came up to me and asked if I danced. We chatted, first-year, CS department, blah blah, and he said "Oh, you're the one who was in Hungary." I asked how he knew, and he said he was from Budapest and a dancer acquaintance told him about a friend who was starting at Princeton. When I asked who it was, he said "Glasses, brown hair to about here" and motioned to his chin. I can count the number of you who will get this on one hand.

The engineering library has big glass windows:

I ran out of anecdotes, so here are some big glass library windows at night:

I saw a political analyst talk about why political revolutions need to have impetus from the population, or in other words, why this Iraq thing is going to fail. It was in the Woodrow Wilson School, or "Woody Woo". The lecture hall was lined with wood cut from logs and arranged so they formed symmetric patterns on the wall.

This is the school at night, on my way home from the department:

They paid me. I looked at the amount on the check. It seemed like such an enormous quantity of money, so I amused myself by calculating how much disposable income that gave me per day. I spend that much per week, maybe, and that's because I'm being extravagant. Maybe I'll travel around the world.

Ghost clothes in the fogged-out windows of J.Crew. Perhaps it's time to turn down the air conditioning.