music
I just saw an ad for GE's newly launched Ecomagination intiative.
Last year, Steve Koonin, Caltech physicist, became Chief Scientist at BP.
...I'm rooting for responsible business.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Monday, May 02, 2005
Stairway to Paradise
music
I had the most fantastic day yesterday. Full of friends (including some really old friends) and family. It nearly brought tears to my eyes. This whole technology-connectedness is good.
Eight hours later...
Next project: China 101
Also: prepare a fabulous talk for July, one that I would like to listen to, and that connects our work to the big picture of controls research
And (this should be higher on my priority list!): work on our paper and my research
I had the most fantastic day yesterday. Full of friends (including some really old friends) and family. It nearly brought tears to my eyes. This whole technology-connectedness is good.
Eight hours later...
Next project: China 101
Also: prepare a fabulous talk for July, one that I would like to listen to, and that connects our work to the big picture of controls research
And (this should be higher on my priority list!): work on our paper and my research
Monday, April 25, 2005
Stairway to the stars
music
I just read The Moon Is Down, an enlightening, engaging, short, and unsatisfying novel by John Steinbeck on the futility of war and the pain conquest brings to the conquerors.
Joseph Heller (1923-1999) is my birthday-mate. Maybe I'll re-read Catch-22 in his honour.
I just read The Moon Is Down, an enlightening, engaging, short, and unsatisfying novel by John Steinbeck on the futility of war and the pain conquest brings to the conquerors.
Joseph Heller (1923-1999) is my birthday-mate. Maybe I'll re-read Catch-22 in his honour.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Elfriede Jelinek
music
I'm looking forward to reading some of her novels, and perhaps watching the movie based on "The Piano teacher."
Four hours later...
I just bought Thomas Friedman's The Lexus and the Olive Tree. I'm not quite ready for his newer (hardcover) work, The World is Flat, to which Charles Vest referred today at his lectures.
I'm looking forward to reading some of her novels, and perhaps watching the movie based on "The Piano teacher."
Four hours later...
I just bought Thomas Friedman's The Lexus and the Olive Tree. I'm not quite ready for his newer (hardcover) work, The World is Flat, to which Charles Vest referred today at his lectures.
Friday, April 08, 2005
My baby just cares for me
music
I'm reading a paper about Hilbert's 17th problem, while daydreaming about glorious research breakthroughs, about future travels, the sounds of music, and all-that-jazz.
Yesterday, I watched a mellow Israeli movie titled Bonjour Monsieur Shlomi.
In about six hours, I'll be watching a dance show on campus.
So much is happening, and so much is to happen: friends' parties and dinners and such, SIAM talk, roommate moving, visiting San Diego, family coming over for my sister's graduation, taking brother to see stuff and to buy pastries, Nick's play, friends' graduation, another SIAM talk, movies, reading my stash of seven math books at home, research meetings with Xin and Maryam, candidacy, Christmas, language abroad trip, more reading and writing and research - exciting, eh?
I'm reading a paper about Hilbert's 17th problem, while daydreaming about glorious research breakthroughs, about future travels, the sounds of music, and all-that-jazz.
Yesterday, I watched a mellow Israeli movie titled Bonjour Monsieur Shlomi.
In about six hours, I'll be watching a dance show on campus.
So much is happening, and so much is to happen: friends' parties and dinners and such, SIAM talk, roommate moving, visiting San Diego, family coming over for my sister's graduation, taking brother to see stuff and to buy pastries, Nick's play, friends' graduation, another SIAM talk, movies, reading my stash of seven math books at home, research meetings with Xin and Maryam, candidacy, Christmas, language abroad trip, more reading and writing and research - exciting, eh?
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Tango
music
Just got back from lovely San Juan and now I'm studying, preparing for next week's talk.
I just paid over five bucks for the premiere issue of Tango, the magazine about relationships.
Man-on-the-plane on relationships: "you're going to look and look and not find anything, then all of a sudden..."
It's official: I'm looking.
Just got back from lovely San Juan and now I'm studying, preparing for next week's talk.
I just paid over five bucks for the premiere issue of Tango, the magazine about relationships.
Man-on-the-plane on relationships: "you're going to look and look and not find anything, then all of a sudden..."
It's official: I'm looking.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Waiting to Exhale
music
My friend, Princess, is in the chorus for a play in Hollywood on the life of Sojourner Truth. I just saw the show. Powerful performances; make me wanna go to church.
And I MET ANGELA BASSETT. Happy me! She was watching the show too. She is beautiful and was very very warm. I want to remember those special moments. aah.
I hung out afterwards with Winston, Princess, Holly, and Anna. Really cool time, I tell ya.
My friend, Princess, is in the chorus for a play in Hollywood on the life of Sojourner Truth. I just saw the show. Powerful performances; make me wanna go to church.
And I MET ANGELA BASSETT. Happy me! She was watching the show too. She is beautiful and was very very warm. I want to remember those special moments. aah.
I hung out afterwards with Winston, Princess, Holly, and Anna. Really cool time, I tell ya.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Crooning
music
I finally visited my neighbors of six months today (4am - 5am). I was attracted to their fine music wafting through to my apartment. Greek and Ukrainian, they're cool chics who smoke a lot. They played some Italian stuff while I was up there; one was titled Happy Feet and the vocalist was probably Paolo Conte.
I've got a lot of second-hand smoke this week. I don't know how much is harmful...
I'm going back to sleep now.
I finally visited my neighbors of six months today (4am - 5am). I was attracted to their fine music wafting through to my apartment. Greek and Ukrainian, they're cool chics who smoke a lot. They played some Italian stuff while I was up there; one was titled Happy Feet and the vocalist was probably Paolo Conte.
I've got a lot of second-hand smoke this week. I don't know how much is harmful...
I'm going back to sleep now.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Thursday, January 13, 2005
I'm so tired
music
I wamt to cry. But I'm a freakin' trooper.
(10 hours later)
I wrote "wamt"!
I wonder how many errors I made in all the emails I wrote last night.
Anyway, things are looking up: My baby's trip is over 50% done...Last night, I ate a good pizza and got some good sleep...This morning, I massaged my feet and painted my toes. Now, I'm ready to do it all, baby.
I wamt to cry. But I'm a freakin' trooper.
(10 hours later)
I wrote "wamt"!
I wonder how many errors I made in all the emails I wrote last night.
Anyway, things are looking up: My baby's trip is over 50% done...Last night, I ate a good pizza and got some good sleep...This morning, I massaged my feet and painted my toes. Now, I'm ready to do it all, baby.
Friday, January 07, 2005
I'm still high
music
...this time it's on Baileys Irish Creme; I'm taking it as medicine for my cold.
This cold will be gone tomorrow. I won't miss the raw feeling up my nose. I may miss the haziness that was a result of not sleeping well, of being so ill, and maybe of drinking too much Baileys'.
I was meeting Xin and Maryam today and heard myself try to make a point about our work - I was sure there was a point and that I could reach it. There is a particular freedom here; it comes from losing control and leaving others to worry about whether the junk I say means anything. (Right now, I am consuming a lot of time and thought in trying to write well.)
...this time it's on Baileys Irish Creme; I'm taking it as medicine for my cold.
This cold will be gone tomorrow. I won't miss the raw feeling up my nose. I may miss the haziness that was a result of not sleeping well, of being so ill, and maybe of drinking too much Baileys'.
I was meeting Xin and Maryam today and heard myself try to make a point about our work - I was sure there was a point and that I could reach it. There is a particular freedom here; it comes from losing control and leaving others to worry about whether the junk I say means anything. (Right now, I am consuming a lot of time and thought in trying to write well.)
Sunday, January 02, 2005
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
Publication: Reconfigurable Computing
music
My senior thesis work was cited by Hassan A. Phillips in his April 2003 Master's Thesis:
Design and Implementation of a Reconfigurable Computer for Simulation of Turbulent-Induced Flocculation Models
Yay!
My April 2001 thesis, "Re-configurable Computing for Flocculation Modeling," is reference 31.
The Phillips thesis is online:
http://angelou.imappl.org/~cgloster/rare/present/2003-Thesis-Phillips.pdf
Dr. Clay Gloster was his Master's thesis advisor, and my Senior thesis advisor (lucky us!) at Howard University.
My senior thesis work was cited by Hassan A. Phillips in his April 2003 Master's Thesis:
Design and Implementation of a Reconfigurable Computer for Simulation of Turbulent-Induced Flocculation Models
Yay!
My April 2001 thesis, "Re-configurable Computing for Flocculation Modeling," is reference 31.
The Phillips thesis is online:
http://angelou.imappl.org/~cgloster/rare/present/2003-Thesis-Phillips.pdf
Dr. Clay Gloster was his Master's thesis advisor, and my Senior thesis advisor (lucky us!) at Howard University.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Alexander and the raj
music
Part I:
If you've seen the many negative reviews of Alexander, and want to read a more balanced and intelligent opinion, try this blog: http://www.sneakeasysjoint.com/sneakeasy/2004/11/stone_turkey_go.html
Part II:
I wrote a thousand-word blurb this morning, inspired by my Asoka-inspired dream. I love and hate it so I don't care what anyone thinks.
Spring Fling
Written on December 6, 2004
There was nothing wrong with her. Her stomach was a ripe color. Not caramel. Lighter. Irish crème. But yellower. Ah, I don’t know colors. But darling, isn’t it marvelous, this thing that stretches like a gourd, between the two halves of her clothes. And dances like a gourd in play. It moves, a testament to God. There is such a thing as perfect. Perfection: not tiny, as though the guts had been removed. No. At the base it’s sturdy and fleshy. Ripe. And where it starts, at the top, it’s long and lean. It’s lean, yet full. I can’t detect any bone as she swank-swank-swanks across the floor with cold drinks for everyone. Then her mother sends us to bed.
It’s boring in our room. It’s time to sleep. Sleep? My travel partner is a friend I love so well, have known for so long, so long that we don’t talk; we "do" together. I came here with him. That’s why I am here – to be near him, where I belong. We belong around each other like two crows. He has a white suitcase. I had a tan-colored one like that when I was very young. Or maybe it belonged to my baby sister. Or maybe it was the family layette bag. Soft suitcase, leather-like, with buckles. In white it looks like a pimp. (Or the bag of a pimp.) I should have had white boots to match. But the raj always carries our luggage, so maybe he should have a white ensemble to match.
I don’t really want to sleep any more. I don’t know what time it is or how long I’ve been asleep. Sunil likes to sleep with his left hand in his boxers. There’s sweat on his sheets. My face is beyond sweaty. It has white slime just beneath the surface and if I don’t wash it more often, there’ll soon be a lot of acne living on it. I haven’t had a lot of acne in…twelve years. That’s one good thing about America – it took away my pimples. I know that the people in the house will make a lovely breakfast, but I must clean myself first and wear clean clothes. I’m wearing a Nautica shirt today. Ah but the raj…he likes to sleep with his left hand in his boxers. I know he’s not sleeping.
It’s not breakfast time - far from it. But a young boy emerges and feeds me anyway. "If you need something, they are in the next house," he says. I like the food. I have only two more days of this pampering. The young boy leads me to the next house. People are playing. There’s talking, with a lot of moving of hands and hips and eyes. And laughing. There are hands on hips. Hands clapping, Lovely skip-skip-skips off to change the music. Now she’s dancing.
It’s the same milky gourd as before. This time, however, its boundaries are lined with a different fabric – the cloth is yellow, but also looks red. (I don’t know my colours.) On her navel, the sun is surrounded by a star. Like the picture in that fable about the sun and the wind. (Except that here the outlines are in red, not white.) And she moves. Hop-skip-stop. She knows how to move, this girl. Like a belly dancer plus a hip-hop dancer but all diluted to this soft, sweatless cadence. Like a temple dancer. What’s a temple dancer?
We return home for dinner but Sunil has eaten already and the girl has disappeared so I eat alone. I like this house. The food tastes very wholesomely good. The girl has reappeared and wants to help clear my dishes. But "no way, I can handle it." "OK." "May I ask your name?" "Sunita. And you are?" (Well, you know me.) I take the large tray to the kitchen and the boy leaps to take it from me. This girl is lovely. Liberal. I return from the kitchen to get my glass of water. This girl is lovely. Liberated. She stands at the table. She is very close when I reach for my water. So I ask her something, anything – "what are those bells?" She is very close when she tells me about the bells.
I’ve always wanted to do this but my courage, courage, is only good for other things. She has just kissed me now. Me! God. She is beautiful. She kisses me again. What does she want? I don’t know. I start feeling her mouth at the corners with my lips. My lips are like sensor balloons. Her tongue is licking my lips and around my lips and I think she wants in. This instant that’s not so hard to do. Her tongue is in my mouth. I hate losing control. She’s surveying – teeth, roof, teeth – I feel her moving, now she’s moving over my tongue. It’s regular, it’s predictable, it’s like viloo, viloo.
Enough of this taunting. I get in the ring too. It’s not viloo, viloo anymore. It’s chaos. I want to catch her tongue. When I do, it’s viloo, viloo again. But I’m not gentle. I’m mad. I want her tongue. I’m holding her to me now. I want her very tightly against me. I’m pushing her bottom up and in towards me. She is too. Oh I want to breathe. But not until I'm out of breath. I’m taking it all from her – her tongue, her air. She stops, and turns her eyes up into mine, and smiles. We laugh, sort of breathe and laugh, and she kisses me again. I start to kiss her. We know the drill now. I am not gentle. I could bite her, but I don’t. I only pretend.
We’re moving together now. I remember the first time I moved like this - first it had been lovely, then a fat baton sprung between us in his jeans. It must have hurt to have such a big part of him trapped in his clothes. Today it’s a girl. I’m kissing a lovely girl. I’ve always wanted to do this, but my courage…She has her hand in my shorts. What does she want? I think she likes shaved clean. She likes it. I can tell. God! I am beautiful. Her finger is sliding into me. Now she’s leaving my vulva, my shorts. She looks at my face as though I am strange. What does this mean? Now she’s leaving the room.
The next day after lunch I asked her if she’d like to kiss again. She was shaking. She couldn’t hide her trembling rage. Where were my breasts…and how come she had never noticed my breasts? I wished she would cry so I could kiss her and calm her. Instead there was "breasts" all through the house. Mercifully, nobody was home to hear. (Sunil had gone to his meetings, Sunita’s father was at a conference in California, and I think both her mother and brother were working; but maybe the young boy was home.) I told her I was sorry, and maybe we should just kiss. She shouted something I couldn’t understand and left the room in a hurry.
Part I:
If you've seen the many negative reviews of Alexander, and want to read a more balanced and intelligent opinion, try this blog: http://www.sneakeasysjoint.com/sneakeasy/2004/11/stone_turkey_go.html
Part II:
I wrote a thousand-word blurb this morning, inspired by my Asoka-inspired dream. I love and hate it so I don't care what anyone thinks.
Spring Fling
Written on December 6, 2004
There was nothing wrong with her. Her stomach was a ripe color. Not caramel. Lighter. Irish crème. But yellower. Ah, I don’t know colors. But darling, isn’t it marvelous, this thing that stretches like a gourd, between the two halves of her clothes. And dances like a gourd in play. It moves, a testament to God. There is such a thing as perfect. Perfection: not tiny, as though the guts had been removed. No. At the base it’s sturdy and fleshy. Ripe. And where it starts, at the top, it’s long and lean. It’s lean, yet full. I can’t detect any bone as she swank-swank-swanks across the floor with cold drinks for everyone. Then her mother sends us to bed.
It’s boring in our room. It’s time to sleep. Sleep? My travel partner is a friend I love so well, have known for so long, so long that we don’t talk; we "do" together. I came here with him. That’s why I am here – to be near him, where I belong. We belong around each other like two crows. He has a white suitcase. I had a tan-colored one like that when I was very young. Or maybe it belonged to my baby sister. Or maybe it was the family layette bag. Soft suitcase, leather-like, with buckles. In white it looks like a pimp. (Or the bag of a pimp.) I should have had white boots to match. But the raj always carries our luggage, so maybe he should have a white ensemble to match.
I don’t really want to sleep any more. I don’t know what time it is or how long I’ve been asleep. Sunil likes to sleep with his left hand in his boxers. There’s sweat on his sheets. My face is beyond sweaty. It has white slime just beneath the surface and if I don’t wash it more often, there’ll soon be a lot of acne living on it. I haven’t had a lot of acne in…twelve years. That’s one good thing about America – it took away my pimples. I know that the people in the house will make a lovely breakfast, but I must clean myself first and wear clean clothes. I’m wearing a Nautica shirt today. Ah but the raj…he likes to sleep with his left hand in his boxers. I know he’s not sleeping.
It’s not breakfast time - far from it. But a young boy emerges and feeds me anyway. "If you need something, they are in the next house," he says. I like the food. I have only two more days of this pampering. The young boy leads me to the next house. People are playing. There’s talking, with a lot of moving of hands and hips and eyes. And laughing. There are hands on hips. Hands clapping, Lovely skip-skip-skips off to change the music. Now she’s dancing.
It’s the same milky gourd as before. This time, however, its boundaries are lined with a different fabric – the cloth is yellow, but also looks red. (I don’t know my colours.) On her navel, the sun is surrounded by a star. Like the picture in that fable about the sun and the wind. (Except that here the outlines are in red, not white.) And she moves. Hop-skip-stop. She knows how to move, this girl. Like a belly dancer plus a hip-hop dancer but all diluted to this soft, sweatless cadence. Like a temple dancer. What’s a temple dancer?
We return home for dinner but Sunil has eaten already and the girl has disappeared so I eat alone. I like this house. The food tastes very wholesomely good. The girl has reappeared and wants to help clear my dishes. But "no way, I can handle it." "OK." "May I ask your name?" "Sunita. And you are?" (Well, you know me.) I take the large tray to the kitchen and the boy leaps to take it from me. This girl is lovely. Liberal. I return from the kitchen to get my glass of water. This girl is lovely. Liberated. She stands at the table. She is very close when I reach for my water. So I ask her something, anything – "what are those bells?" She is very close when she tells me about the bells.
I’ve always wanted to do this but my courage, courage, is only good for other things. She has just kissed me now. Me! God. She is beautiful. She kisses me again. What does she want? I don’t know. I start feeling her mouth at the corners with my lips. My lips are like sensor balloons. Her tongue is licking my lips and around my lips and I think she wants in. This instant that’s not so hard to do. Her tongue is in my mouth. I hate losing control. She’s surveying – teeth, roof, teeth – I feel her moving, now she’s moving over my tongue. It’s regular, it’s predictable, it’s like viloo, viloo.
Enough of this taunting. I get in the ring too. It’s not viloo, viloo anymore. It’s chaos. I want to catch her tongue. When I do, it’s viloo, viloo again. But I’m not gentle. I’m mad. I want her tongue. I’m holding her to me now. I want her very tightly against me. I’m pushing her bottom up and in towards me. She is too. Oh I want to breathe. But not until I'm out of breath. I’m taking it all from her – her tongue, her air. She stops, and turns her eyes up into mine, and smiles. We laugh, sort of breathe and laugh, and she kisses me again. I start to kiss her. We know the drill now. I am not gentle. I could bite her, but I don’t. I only pretend.
We’re moving together now. I remember the first time I moved like this - first it had been lovely, then a fat baton sprung between us in his jeans. It must have hurt to have such a big part of him trapped in his clothes. Today it’s a girl. I’m kissing a lovely girl. I’ve always wanted to do this, but my courage…She has her hand in my shorts. What does she want? I think she likes shaved clean. She likes it. I can tell. God! I am beautiful. Her finger is sliding into me. Now she’s leaving my vulva, my shorts. She looks at my face as though I am strange. What does this mean? Now she’s leaving the room.
The next day after lunch I asked her if she’d like to kiss again. She was shaking. She couldn’t hide her trembling rage. Where were my breasts…and how come she had never noticed my breasts? I wished she would cry so I could kiss her and calm her. Instead there was "breasts" all through the house. Mercifully, nobody was home to hear. (Sunil had gone to his meetings, Sunita’s father was at a conference in California, and I think both her mother and brother were working; but maybe the young boy was home.) I told her I was sorry, and maybe we should just kiss. She shouted something I couldn’t understand and left the room in a hurry.
Monday, December 06, 2004
Alexander
music
I just saw the movie. It's the first time I've cried in the opening scenes of a movie. Angelina Jolie (Olympias, the mother of Alexander) did that to me.
Colin Farrell as Alexander...he's a renegade, he moved me in his madness. I want to love like he loved. Feel like he felt. Win like he won. Fight like he fought. Oh God. (I wish, for his sake, that Colin was more like Alexander.)
Now I'm going to watch Asoka, in which Shahrukh Khan stars. Heard about him, but this will be my first time seeing him on screen.
Tomorrow, I'll do some work-related stuff - write my first SOS program, meet with my awesome officemate, find out if I can help anyone with final projects for class...
I just saw the movie. It's the first time I've cried in the opening scenes of a movie. Angelina Jolie (Olympias, the mother of Alexander) did that to me.
Colin Farrell as Alexander...he's a renegade, he moved me in his madness. I want to love like he loved. Feel like he felt. Win like he won. Fight like he fought. Oh God. (I wish, for his sake, that Colin was more like Alexander.)
Now I'm going to watch Asoka, in which Shahrukh Khan stars. Heard about him, but this will be my first time seeing him on screen.
Tomorrow, I'll do some work-related stuff - write my first SOS program, meet with my awesome officemate, find out if I can help anyone with final projects for class...
Saturday, November 27, 2004
Mrs. Smith
music
Did I already mention that I adore Angelina Jolie...
I hope to adopt kids someday - she inspires me...
and now she will be in a thrilling action flick called Mr. and Mrs. Smith...
I just saw a trailer and wow, it's a big guns flick. Big time...
I love that chick...
It's surprising that I don't watch Alias, 'cos I love girls that kick ass.
Speaking of Smiths, my darling friend Billy was convicted of arson last week, and is to be sentenced in March. Poor baby.
www.freebillycottrell.org
Did I already mention that I adore Angelina Jolie...
I hope to adopt kids someday - she inspires me...
and now she will be in a thrilling action flick called Mr. and Mrs. Smith...
I just saw a trailer and wow, it's a big guns flick. Big time...
I love that chick...
It's surprising that I don't watch Alias, 'cos I love girls that kick ass.
Speaking of Smiths, my darling friend Billy was convicted of arson last week, and is to be sentenced in March. Poor baby.
www.freebillycottrell.org
Monday, October 25, 2004
laissez les bons temps rouler
music
...that's what they say in Louisiana.
Well, the great LA is calling.
Let the good times roll at the 2005 SIAM Annual Meeting and Controls Conference. Yeah, baby!
Other travel plans:
My sisters will be here for Christmas,
and we'll be living it up with road trips to Vegas, Arizona...checking out the stars in LA (you know which LA!)
Then Puerto Rico in March 2005. I got tickets this morning.
Then I should write a paper or something, to present in New Orleans in July.
And possibly, I'll be in the Middle East for Christmas 2005, practising Arabic.
Yeah, baby!
...that's what they say in Louisiana.
Well, the great LA is calling.
Let the good times roll at the 2005 SIAM Annual Meeting and Controls Conference. Yeah, baby!
Other travel plans:
My sisters will be here for Christmas,
and we'll be living it up with road trips to Vegas, Arizona...checking out the stars in LA (you know which LA!)
Then Puerto Rico in March 2005. I got tickets this morning.
Then I should write a paper or something, to present in New Orleans in July.
And possibly, I'll be in the Middle East for Christmas 2005, practising Arabic.
Yeah, baby!
Monday, October 18, 2004
Nothing to say, really
music
I just moved offices.
Though I was nervous about the change, today (my first day in Room 07 - only twenty or so feet from my former office - Room 04) has been not-really-weird.
I'm going to go home soon, though, because home is where my books are (for the most part.)
I love my life. And I love my books.
I just moved offices.
Though I was nervous about the change, today (my first day in Room 07 - only twenty or so feet from my former office - Room 04) has been not-really-weird.
I'm going to go home soon, though, because home is where my books are (for the most part.)
I love my life. And I love my books.
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