Whew! This past weekend has been crazy....I'm moving out of my current apartment, and will be staying temporarily at a friend's place until my new apartment is ready to move into, which isn't till the 10th. So this past weekend, I've been going mad packing up all the junk accumulated over the course of the past year.
Sunday was tiring, I will admit that. I spent the whole day cleaning up, packing up, and then transferring almost everything I had to my friend's house. At the end of it, I felt like I'd been run through the wringer -- I was dropping with exhaustion. The house, though, was empty, which is a good thing -- I didn't want to come back from work on Tuesday and then move everything.
Yesterday was exhausting, too. I cleaned the house, and it took all my willpower not to simply hurl the paper towels at the floor and walk away. The underneath of the sink was -- shudder! -- Let's just say I never want to see anything like that ever again. It looked like something had died in there (didn't smell like it, though, so I'm hoping nothing did). My hand still smells like Clorox.
Cleaning the house was actually all I did yesterday. That, and flop down on my comforter (the bed's at the friend's place), and plonk headalong into a dreamless sleep. There's another round due today. Shudder! I don't even want to think about it.
On the other hand, though, I did discover my long-lost copy of the manga Ghost Hunt Vol. 1, so I guess there's something to cheer.....
More updates later.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
People on the bus
The people on the bus are such a motley bunch, that I had to write about them. They get up on the various stops along the way, but the majority of them board the bus at the North Lamar Transit Center when I'm going to office. They seem to be from all walks of life, all types of people. Young, old, happy, angry, or simply indifferent -- they make for interesting viewing. I usually go through The Daily Texan on the bus, but I put it aside and watch the people sidealong.
There's a guy called Billy who boards at the NLTC. He's probably in his fifties; maybe even sixties. Gnarled and with a weather-beaten face and wispy white hair through which his scalp pokes through, he is the chattiest one on the bus, the one who typically sidles along to the driver (today it was a guy called Bart), knows them all by name, and talks endlessly (I don't know what he says, though.....the iPod is going full-strength in my ears when I'm on the bus). I once met him while returning from the office, and since we were the only ones at the stop, we struck up a conversation, and that's how I came to know his name, and the fact that he has a 21-year-old son, and how he pooled his entire pay for the week to buy a $100 mountain bike from Wal-Mart of which he's inordinately proud.
Then there's this hippie-type guy who boards at US 183 and Burnet. He has long dark hair, which streams out open behind him. A cap is usually worn backward, and he usually wears dark t-shirts with the word 'Texas' written on it, with ferocious-looking flames surrounding it. Interesting chap.
Then there's this big, big guy who boards at NLTC. He glowers at everyone as he gets in, forehead seemingly forever puckered in a frown. His bald head shines in the overhead lights in the bus, and his loose Spurs jersey flutters slightly in the wind. His every footstep seems to make the bus shake from side to side. He usually goes right to the back of the bus, thankfully. I don't think I could stand that piercing glare for ten minutes, especially coming from a real-life Grawp (those who've read Harry Potter know what I mean).
Then, there's a little old lady who gets up somewhere near Metric and Braker (this is on the 392). She's tiny, with short dark hair going gray. She peers over her glasses at the driver as she swipes her Cap Metro card through the reader. She usually gets off on Shropshire Blvd, and an almost identical lady boards the bus at the next stop!
There's a good-looking guy who boards at the NLTC. He looks a little like Eric Bana, the actor, and always has some kind of book or the other clutched in his hand. He usually buries his nose in the book the moment he gets a seat.
There are so many people on the bus! It's almost impossible to describe them all.....but these are some of the regulars!
There's a guy called Billy who boards at the NLTC. He's probably in his fifties; maybe even sixties. Gnarled and with a weather-beaten face and wispy white hair through which his scalp pokes through, he is the chattiest one on the bus, the one who typically sidles along to the driver (today it was a guy called Bart), knows them all by name, and talks endlessly (I don't know what he says, though.....the iPod is going full-strength in my ears when I'm on the bus). I once met him while returning from the office, and since we were the only ones at the stop, we struck up a conversation, and that's how I came to know his name, and the fact that he has a 21-year-old son, and how he pooled his entire pay for the week to buy a $100 mountain bike from Wal-Mart of which he's inordinately proud.
Then there's this hippie-type guy who boards at US 183 and Burnet. He has long dark hair, which streams out open behind him. A cap is usually worn backward, and he usually wears dark t-shirts with the word 'Texas' written on it, with ferocious-looking flames surrounding it. Interesting chap.
Then there's this big, big guy who boards at NLTC. He glowers at everyone as he gets in, forehead seemingly forever puckered in a frown. His bald head shines in the overhead lights in the bus, and his loose Spurs jersey flutters slightly in the wind. His every footstep seems to make the bus shake from side to side. He usually goes right to the back of the bus, thankfully. I don't think I could stand that piercing glare for ten minutes, especially coming from a real-life Grawp (those who've read Harry Potter know what I mean).
Then, there's a little old lady who gets up somewhere near Metric and Braker (this is on the 392). She's tiny, with short dark hair going gray. She peers over her glasses at the driver as she swipes her Cap Metro card through the reader. She usually gets off on Shropshire Blvd, and an almost identical lady boards the bus at the next stop!
There's a good-looking guy who boards at the NLTC. He looks a little like Eric Bana, the actor, and always has some kind of book or the other clutched in his hand. He usually buries his nose in the book the moment he gets a seat.
There are so many people on the bus! It's almost impossible to describe them all.....but these are some of the regulars!
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Art store
You know the old saying about kids in a candy store? (Though if I were a kid, I'd be more thrilled about going to the Wii section in a Gamestop store....) That's exactly how I get when I go to an art store. And this became evident to my poor roommate who tagged along with me today, when I went to the Co-op art store.
The Co-op art store is on The Drag, which is local UT lingo for Guadalupe. It's right next to the actual Co-op, and is my dream store. Impressive arrays of paints, brushes, canvases and other art equipment line the walls. Today, for instance, I was left staring open-mouthed at the very impressive line-up of Winsor & Newton's watercolors on the North wall of the store.
Okay, before this confuses anyone, no, I'm not a professional artist. I'm a computer scientist. But art is what I casually call my hobby. In reality, though, it's more than a hobby -- it's a passion, the very essence of my life, one reason why I think I'm still alive. When I'm stressed, I draw. When I'm sad, I draw. When I'm happy, I draw. When I'm....oh, you get the idea. I love art. I love drawing, though painting comes a close second. I've been drawing ever since I can remember. I learnt to draw before I learnt to write. So what I'm trying to tell is, that there's a reason why I behave like a caveman in an art store -- and not a distinguished caveman like the Geico one, but a real, uncouth caveman.
That's what happened today. My roommate, Annie, and I went to Chipotle grill on The Drag for lunch. While returning, I couldn't resist peeking inside the newly opened store. "Er......do you mind if we go in?" I asked Annie. She willingly agreed, not knowing, the poor thing, that it would take wild horses to drag me away from there. We went in, and I fell silent. Or rather, not -- I kept making gasping noises, as though I were choking. "No...no.....no...." I whispered incoherently. "Just look at this stuff, man!"
It's not like Annie wasn't impressed -- she was. But I suppose I tend to go overboard in such places. I ran over to a display of Winsor & Newton paintbrushes. I've only ever wanted W&N equipment since I was fourteen. I reverently lifted a fan brush -- used for washes in watercolors -- and ran in lightly back and forth in a sweeping motion across the stand where it was kept. Its bristles reacted to my slightest touch, and I almost wept.
I then went across to the paint section, on the North wall of the store. There was one of the most impressive array of watercolors I've ever seen -- W&N watercolors, Cotman and Artist varieties. The Artist one was a little too expensive for me, so I went for the Cotman ones. All the shades I'd ever dreamed about -- Phtalo Green, Cerulean Blue, Cadmium Red, Raw Sienna, Ultramarine.....they were all there. I was torn as to which ones to buy. I debated and debated and then debated some more, and finally settled on the Cerulean, Cadmium Red, Hooker's Green and Raw Sienna. I was on cloud nine, and nothing could bring me down -- except the bill, which did a marvelous job of it. All-in-all, though, four dream shades for less than $10 is a bargain in my eyes.
I came out of the store, pleased as a spoilt child that has just been indulged. In a way, I suppose I am, and I am the one spoiling myself. I can't help it, though. Shopping for art equipment is almost as therapeutic for me as drawing is.
Hmmm, maybe I can make another quick trip there soon.....
The Co-op art store is on The Drag, which is local UT lingo for Guadalupe. It's right next to the actual Co-op, and is my dream store. Impressive arrays of paints, brushes, canvases and other art equipment line the walls. Today, for instance, I was left staring open-mouthed at the very impressive line-up of Winsor & Newton's watercolors on the North wall of the store.
Okay, before this confuses anyone, no, I'm not a professional artist. I'm a computer scientist. But art is what I casually call my hobby. In reality, though, it's more than a hobby -- it's a passion, the very essence of my life, one reason why I think I'm still alive. When I'm stressed, I draw. When I'm sad, I draw. When I'm happy, I draw. When I'm....oh, you get the idea. I love art. I love drawing, though painting comes a close second. I've been drawing ever since I can remember. I learnt to draw before I learnt to write. So what I'm trying to tell is, that there's a reason why I behave like a caveman in an art store -- and not a distinguished caveman like the Geico one, but a real, uncouth caveman.
That's what happened today. My roommate, Annie, and I went to Chipotle grill on The Drag for lunch. While returning, I couldn't resist peeking inside the newly opened store. "Er......do you mind if we go in?" I asked Annie. She willingly agreed, not knowing, the poor thing, that it would take wild horses to drag me away from there. We went in, and I fell silent. Or rather, not -- I kept making gasping noises, as though I were choking. "No...no.....no...." I whispered incoherently. "Just look at this stuff, man!"
It's not like Annie wasn't impressed -- she was. But I suppose I tend to go overboard in such places. I ran over to a display of Winsor & Newton paintbrushes. I've only ever wanted W&N equipment since I was fourteen. I reverently lifted a fan brush -- used for washes in watercolors -- and ran in lightly back and forth in a sweeping motion across the stand where it was kept. Its bristles reacted to my slightest touch, and I almost wept.
I then went across to the paint section, on the North wall of the store. There was one of the most impressive array of watercolors I've ever seen -- W&N watercolors, Cotman and Artist varieties. The Artist one was a little too expensive for me, so I went for the Cotman ones. All the shades I'd ever dreamed about -- Phtalo Green, Cerulean Blue, Cadmium Red, Raw Sienna, Ultramarine.....they were all there. I was torn as to which ones to buy. I debated and debated and then debated some more, and finally settled on the Cerulean, Cadmium Red, Hooker's Green and Raw Sienna. I was on cloud nine, and nothing could bring me down -- except the bill, which did a marvelous job of it. All-in-all, though, four dream shades for less than $10 is a bargain in my eyes.
I came out of the store, pleased as a spoilt child that has just been indulged. In a way, I suppose I am, and I am the one spoiling myself. I can't help it, though. Shopping for art equipment is almost as therapeutic for me as drawing is.
Hmmm, maybe I can make another quick trip there soon.....
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Packing
Wow! I never thought it'd be this much trouble packing! But since I'm close to being done, I won't complain too much. My room is now almost stripped bare, and only the closet remains. And then I'll be done.
It was an interesting experience, packing up. I last did it a year ago, when I packed up to leave Mumbai and move to Austin. Since it was done gradually then, and with full help from all family members, it had seemed less painful then. Besides, I was much too upset to be leaving my family to really take care of what was going onto the luggage. But, man, now I know!
It seems incredible that a single person could own so much stuff. I went nearly crazy just packing the books. There are just too many! I'm glad now I hadn't thrown away the brown boxes that Amazon.com delivers its packages in -- they came handy now, packing up stuff. First thing in was the Algorithms textbook -- I guess I wanted it out of my sight. Operating Systems was next. Security was the last thing to go in, with me giving the book a fond glance before packing it in. Next, I tackled the novels.
There were so many!! I honestly was stunned that I had so many books. PG Wodehouse, Ngaio Marsh, Alistair MacLean, Anthony Horowitz, Ian Fleming, Ken Follett, a bunch of manga (mostly comprising of the Ghost Hunt series).....all went into the boxes one after the other. There was a copy of Artemis Fowl, that I'd gifted myself last Christmas (for emerging alive from the rigorous Fall semester); the Wisden Cricketers' Almanack's 141st edition; a James Bond comic I had ordered on a whim from Amazon; a Robin Cook novel I'd bought ages ago, and forgotten I had it; multiple issues of Reader's Digest, Wired, PC World and American Artist; even a couple of Hardy Boys books I'd bought for my 15-year-old sister, who's a Hardy Boys fiend .
There was other stuff as well. A receipt for my iPod; a catalog from Dell that I'd gotten right after I'd ordered my laptop. I threw it away with a whimsical grin -- now that I actually work there, I don't really need it any more. There was a massive stack of ACM and IEEE research papers, assigned at some point or the other by various professors, or ones that had simply interested me (one of these was a most instructive article on cross-site scripting, a way of exploiting vulnerabilities in websites); a bunch of hurriedly made drawings, stuff that I'd made as I was studying, and was a way to let off stress and steam; an ancient box of Pringles chips, which I threw away hurriedly, without waiting to check the inside. No doubt the inside of the box would have interested a biologist of some sort. There was a printed notification of UT's football match against Ohio State University (which we lost) in Fall 2006; scribbled notes on assignments, trying to solve some problem before actually typing it out on Microsoft Word; and a piece of paper where I seemed to be asking myself what course to take -- it had the names of all the interesting courses in Spring 2007, and the professors' names next to them, and little question marks and exclamation marks around them.
It was interesting seeing all this. It brought back the hectic life I used to lead as a grad student (one that I'll resume in a month, sadly). Just seeing the little scraps of paper, and little mementos from the Fall semester, it had just seemed to capture instances of my life. I could literally relive every moment from Fall.
Maybe it wasn't so bad packing up, after all.....
It was an interesting experience, packing up. I last did it a year ago, when I packed up to leave Mumbai and move to Austin. Since it was done gradually then, and with full help from all family members, it had seemed less painful then. Besides, I was much too upset to be leaving my family to really take care of what was going onto the luggage. But, man, now I know!
It seems incredible that a single person could own so much stuff. I went nearly crazy just packing the books. There are just too many! I'm glad now I hadn't thrown away the brown boxes that Amazon.com delivers its packages in -- they came handy now, packing up stuff. First thing in was the Algorithms textbook -- I guess I wanted it out of my sight. Operating Systems was next. Security was the last thing to go in, with me giving the book a fond glance before packing it in. Next, I tackled the novels.
There were so many!! I honestly was stunned that I had so many books. PG Wodehouse, Ngaio Marsh, Alistair MacLean, Anthony Horowitz, Ian Fleming, Ken Follett, a bunch of manga (mostly comprising of the Ghost Hunt series).....all went into the boxes one after the other. There was a copy of Artemis Fowl, that I'd gifted myself last Christmas (for emerging alive from the rigorous Fall semester); the Wisden Cricketers' Almanack's 141st edition; a James Bond comic I had ordered on a whim from Amazon; a Robin Cook novel I'd bought ages ago, and forgotten I had it; multiple issues of Reader's Digest, Wired, PC World and American Artist; even a couple of Hardy Boys books I'd bought for my 15-year-old sister, who's a Hardy Boys fiend .
There was other stuff as well. A receipt for my iPod; a catalog from Dell that I'd gotten right after I'd ordered my laptop. I threw it away with a whimsical grin -- now that I actually work there, I don't really need it any more. There was a massive stack of ACM and IEEE research papers, assigned at some point or the other by various professors, or ones that had simply interested me (one of these was a most instructive article on cross-site scripting, a way of exploiting vulnerabilities in websites); a bunch of hurriedly made drawings, stuff that I'd made as I was studying, and was a way to let off stress and steam; an ancient box of Pringles chips, which I threw away hurriedly, without waiting to check the inside. No doubt the inside of the box would have interested a biologist of some sort. There was a printed notification of UT's football match against Ohio State University (which we lost) in Fall 2006; scribbled notes on assignments, trying to solve some problem before actually typing it out on Microsoft Word; and a piece of paper where I seemed to be asking myself what course to take -- it had the names of all the interesting courses in Spring 2007, and the professors' names next to them, and little question marks and exclamation marks around them.
It was interesting seeing all this. It brought back the hectic life I used to lead as a grad student (one that I'll resume in a month, sadly). Just seeing the little scraps of paper, and little mementos from the Fall semester, it had just seemed to capture instances of my life. I could literally relive every moment from Fall.
Maybe it wasn't so bad packing up, after all.....
Unpredictable Texan weather
Man! Talk about unpredictable! Texan weather is harder to predict than the outcome of, say, roulette or something. It was pouring on Thursday; rain interspersed with shine yesterday; and hot and sunny today. I give up! I can never, ever predict what tomorrow's going to be like. In fact, forget tomorrow! I can't predict what it'll be like an hour from now. In fact, even as I speak, the sun is dimming, and the it's getting cool and overcast (just the way I like it!). And, as I complete this sentence, the sun is coming out again. Hmph!
Today is Saturday -- the day that I have, for the past three months, gone out to catch the latest movie released on Friday, and then roamed about the malls for ages. But there's no movie of interest this week -- I'm waiting for August 3rd for The Bourne Ultimatum to release. Instead, I think I'll start packing. I'll be moving out of my apartment on the 1st, so I guess I should start clearing up the mess created over the course of one year. Sigh! I really don't feel like getting started. I try to motivate myself, but one look at the massive pile of research papers from ACM and IEEE sends me back into my corner, hunched over my laptop, furiously typing into my blog, telling the whole world what a mess my room is.
It's the books that scare me the most. I've got a HUGE pile of books to be packed. I'm a regular bookworm, and, in spite of nearly dying of penury over the past year, I've still managed to collect well over 30 books, not counting the 25 or so I brought over with me from Mumbai. AND, to top it all, there's a massive bunch of textbooks collected -- textbooks, that I might add, I've never had to open even once in the semester, because the professors' notes and research papers we got assigned were good enough. Probably the only textbooks I cracked open in the entire year were Database Systems by Garcia-Molina, Ullman and Widom, and Network Security by Kaufman, Perlman and Speciner. The only ones!! And when I look at the massive tomes on my bookshelf, notably the books on Operating Systems and Algorithms, I groan. My intention right from the time I joined UT was to study Networks and Network Security. Why on earth did I lug those blasted books with me? I knew I never intended to take an OS course, ever. I now sit on the chair, looking balefully at the books with ill-concealed hostility.
Well, the more time I spend here, the less I'll have to clear up the scary mess, so I guess I'd better get started now!
Today is Saturday -- the day that I have, for the past three months, gone out to catch the latest movie released on Friday, and then roamed about the malls for ages. But there's no movie of interest this week -- I'm waiting for August 3rd for The Bourne Ultimatum to release. Instead, I think I'll start packing. I'll be moving out of my apartment on the 1st, so I guess I should start clearing up the mess created over the course of one year. Sigh! I really don't feel like getting started. I try to motivate myself, but one look at the massive pile of research papers from ACM and IEEE sends me back into my corner, hunched over my laptop, furiously typing into my blog, telling the whole world what a mess my room is.
It's the books that scare me the most. I've got a HUGE pile of books to be packed. I'm a regular bookworm, and, in spite of nearly dying of penury over the past year, I've still managed to collect well over 30 books, not counting the 25 or so I brought over with me from Mumbai. AND, to top it all, there's a massive bunch of textbooks collected -- textbooks, that I might add, I've never had to open even once in the semester, because the professors' notes and research papers we got assigned were good enough. Probably the only textbooks I cracked open in the entire year were Database Systems by Garcia-Molina, Ullman and Widom, and Network Security by Kaufman, Perlman and Speciner. The only ones!! And when I look at the massive tomes on my bookshelf, notably the books on Operating Systems and Algorithms, I groan. My intention right from the time I joined UT was to study Networks and Network Security. Why on earth did I lug those blasted books with me? I knew I never intended to take an OS course, ever. I now sit on the chair, looking balefully at the books with ill-concealed hostility.
Well, the more time I spend here, the less I'll have to clear up the scary mess, so I guess I'd better get started now!
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