RyanHarne.com

There was a fly-over today just prior to the VT football game. As I was cruising through assignments in my room, I looked at the clock (3:15 pm) and realized the fly-over should be any minute. I grabbed my Canon and went straight towards the field.

I was imagining how they would go about flying over the stadium. The campus announcement said it would be a B-2 Stealth Bomber, so I was prepared for some evasive bombing maneuvers and perhaps some fireworks let go from its shute. Or bombing hold. Or however they get rid of weapons in this day and age. Inside, I was praying for it to dive into the stadium and then launch upwards, stunning the cheering audience and causing a total eruption from the partially intoxicated crowd. But however it would be, I knew it would be fast. Or in the more appropriate term… stealthy. Awesome totally cool stealth bomber.

I waited and waited on a very convenient hill overlooking the stadium at such an angle almost allowing us onlookers a view into the stands. As 3:30 got closer, I was wondering if the bomber was late. Is it poor conduct for a bomber to be late in battle? Are they expected to call ahead if they are experiencing delays? I had heard no loudspeaker notice about being held up in bomber traffic, so, I thought, maybe it’s not coming after all. How unfortunate. There was a large group of us on this hill with SLR cameras (or point-and-shoot) ready.

Just then I heard some kind of announcement via the stadium loudspeakers (and the reverberations that reached me) and the crowd began to cheer. I looked behind me and there is was. A B-2 “Spirit” Stealth Bomber. A big, black, carbon fiber work of engineering genius and military dominance. And there it was. There it is. Still up there. So why is it going so slow?

I thought planes had to sustain rather impressive speed to maintain altitude, but this thing appeared like it was ambling about in first gear. If bombers have first gear - maybe it’s called “suicide gear”. And no diving into the stadium, no corkscrews, no fireworks, no pilot ejecting and parachuting onto the field. Just a sluggish, black blob in the sky crawling over the stadium by maybe five or six hundred feet.

Talk about underwhelming. The bomber wasn’t even loud or starting its afterburners to get the crowd going. Wow. That was a B-2 bomber. And that was it. Meh.

And it probably spent a few thousand dollars on fuel just getting here. Gosh, what a waste. A big, expensive, fuel inefficient, black, carbon fiber expensive piece of military dominance.

Thank you to Adam for pointing it out (I would never have known it was thrown out there otherwise), but I am in WIRED! I wasn’t sure the article would actually be used, but apparently it gets front page approval. Thanks to Pete for the interview (and congrats!). ’twas fun.

I stopped by the larger university bookstore today, but, alas, no iPod nano. But, perhaps it was for the better; I can’t imagine the fit of gotta-have-it I’ll succumb to when I get hold of one. The reps told me, though, that next week. ::lust:: Next. Week.

On another Apple front, I am wearing my shuffle constantly. So light, so lovely. It’s becoming my inner minimalist’s accessory.

This is a how-to. Pay attention, there will be a quiz at the end. Seriously.

Step One: Select a healthy muffin but do not check its nutritional content, as knowing the amount of sugar and carbohydrates in the confectionary masterpiece will cause heart failure. The muffins themselves never actually cause the heart failure. So choose a good muffin, particularly a vegan one because they provide warm fuzzies.

Step Two: Relax - you’re about to eat a muffin. This step is ultimately important to the hopeful success to follow. Look at the muffin. Take deep breaths. Center yourself and move on to the next step.

Step Three: Break off a small piece of the muffin and raise it to your mouth. Allow it to crumble onto the table and into your lap during the trip from the resting place to your mouth. This attracts the attention of those around you and they will notice your impeccable muffin-handling skills. Mash up the fallen crumbs and quickly replace them onto the resting place before the Ten Second Rule disqualifies them from further eating attempts.

Step Four: Repeat Step Three. Advanced students may try such tricks as the Long Lip Vacuum Cleaner or the Attractive Look of Bravado Recovery (the latter only to be used when catasrophic muffin-eating failure occurs in the presence of an important audience).

At least I still make a mean latte.

Oh yeah, the quiz… Um. Take a picture of your muffin-eating endeavors and email me the results, regardless of success or casualties.

As Sunday night rolls around, the Emporium changes shape. The students diving into intense math courses tend to dwindle and become replaced by a different genre of students. Coffee cups, the large ones, the super-sized coffee cups, are seen in abundance and you can only imagine the kinetic excitement going on in these kids’ brains.

The sorority girls come to the Emporium. Sunday nights, and you can count on it; set your watch to it, if you wish. And why do sorority girls suddenly flock to one of the most despised places around VT? Perhaps, it is tradition, but I would like to believe that the Emporium offers a very well-rounded crashing pad for intense study sessions. Certainly, there is a plethora of computers waiting to be used, but these girls form their huddles, ignoring the high-performance applications like Matlab and Mathematica, in preference for simple applications like Powerpoint and Word. It’s time to get their business-major thinking caps on.

But but but. The best part about their sudden presence is not the sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee from The Easy Chair next door, but rather their clothing. In almost a sudden twist, an ironic tilt of the head, these sorority girls all wear their greek gear - sporting their Sigmas and Kappas and Deltas and Epsilons. It is the most appropriate sight ever to see in a converted Roses-department-store-int0-math-study-center.

“Sigma Epsilon? Oh, sure; that’s the simplest number theory there is.”

Mac geeks help those enslaved in Windows. Mac geeks help Mac geeks. And the world goes round. Or grows rounder, depending on your point of approach.

Despite being a poor computer-healer (my patience and magic potions have been running dry), I was able to play a few tricks on a Gateway laptop that a friend was having trouble with. Windows was giving her printer commands to make sounds and to start launching paper everywhere, and the printer was complying without a trace of a question (well, perhaps the sounds were questions, but we’ll never know). Now the computer and printer work, and assumably my success is complete.

I was having trouble installing iWork yesterday. So I immediately contacted my resident Mac know-it-all/friend who was able to guide me backwards through the mess I had created. Now, I have Keynote and Pages running flawlessly and I am very happy. Very happy because I bought iWork for $20 from the university bookstore thanks to some special deal VT is getting for a temporary period. Most of Apple’s software, through the university bookstore, is about 70% off. No joke. So, grab your student ID, your credit card, and get your geek on at the big bookstore.

And today, it was once again my turn to help out the techie-geek world once again. A friend of mine, a long-time Mac user no less, had a deficiency. We’ll not get into private details, but he had a problem. He doesn’t own an iPod. I did what any true, compassionate friend would do. And I tried my best to debase his moral structure until he realized the complete error of his ways. In fact, right now, he may be on his way to an Apple Store to pick up an iPod nano. I pray that there is a success story developing from this unfortunate news.

As an aside, I am resolute to having an apartment next fall. Resolute as ever.

Update!: There is no need for words. What can I say? I’m a really good peer influence.

Tests are about to start. I anticipate this weekend to be a mess. Or, rather, I anticipate me to be a mess this weekend. Yes, I do believe that qualifies the anxiety much better.

Studying in Cowgill is exciting. The random, open conversations are always a thrill and watching people cut cardboard is a new twist on staring at people entering and leaving Bollo’s.

When my brain is on a homework homerun, I can’t focus coherently enough to write a fun entry. Actually, this definition of “fun” is tailored towards the more general crowd. Unfortunately, you general crowd people don’t also find advanced mathematical jokes humorous. Now, that’s my type of fun.

Now that I’ve reread my last sentence, I wonder who stole RyanHarne.com. Hey, it’s a Wednesday night, so give me a break. Until Friday. And if I don’t lighten up by then, send out the troops.