November 27th, 2001

running, bomb tech

Math Test

Stats, with Walker. Should be cool. I have a notecard, and my form of studying is copying the things down from my class notes onto my notecard. Walker gives good notes -- either that, or I take decent notes.

In any case, my statistical calculator and I should ace this test. Not that I'm cheating, mind you -- it's perfectly permissable to use calculators on these tests -- but I intend to use mainly the list functions to crunch the boring part of the formulae that involve summations and huge long lists of numbers all done the same thing to. For that, I have my little calculator that crunches my numbers for me. I love my calculator. Calculating r from SSxx, SSyy, and SSxy (and furthermore calculating SSxx, SSyy, and SSxy) I intend to do by plugging in the numbers my lists have crunched for me. It's only fair, until I learn it.
running, bomb tech

Up too late (again)

So what else is new?

Got home from work to find Alan at home with some of his homework and a bit of a nasty cold brewing. Sis had fixed him some of her awesome "wake the hell up and get better" tea. "Don't drink the tea," she cautioned.

Seeing as it was the same stuff she'd fixed for me when I was flat on my ass with energy drain from the ritual to heal someone's horribly broken heart that had gone drastically wrong (fixed that someone, though, fairly well) and left me perpetually draining into this person, I said "Oh, yum!" and poured myself a cupful.

"You're nuts," Alan and Votania chorused.

The cayenne pepper in it really does show up, when it's a tea.

I sipped about half the cup when it was warm, and, after it had cooled, chugged the rest. "You're really nuts," Alan said.

...Well, it tasted good!

Eventually crashed around one. Body said "Fuck no" at 5:30 this morning, so I reset the alarm for two hours later.

Got to go say hi to Darkside now. Missed him at breakfast. Hopefully he missed me too. (Dammit, why won't it go away?)
running, bomb tech

No Accounting for Turkeys

...So today in Accounting class, Van Zwol gives us a capsule summary of his stressful weekend -- first he had dinner with his family, and then with his wife's family, and he looked fairly happy about it. He asked the class how our weekends went.

"So, sell a lot?" he asked the one woman on the south end of the class.

"Yeah," she said.

Class cracks up again.