As is my fate, I am awake working. I miss the days when I'd be awake watching movies. But I've resolved myself to work towards a goal. Passing. Ha!
The problem is that historical linguistics seems to be a collection of pseudo-interesting facts about the progression of language ALL OVER the friggin planet as best scholars can reason from any and all texts they can get their hands on spanning the last two thousand years. As is with anything that is interesting to hear about, but ultimately NOT my field of research, the small details like what happened to a small set of Finnish verbs 400 years ago, I'M NOT GOING TO REMEMBER THEM.
I've been laboring on condensing all of my lecture notes into a study guide that is ALMOST finished. I keep combing over my notes finding things that I *might* be tested on (which means I indeed WILL be tested on it) and thus adding it into the guide. Dr. Klein is a very nice man. I like him. But he is old-old school, which means he's not against giving a five hour exam covering everything he ever said... ...and putting notes up online is a hell-worthy trespass.
The kicker is that I have three finals within the same 30-hour time span, but Historical is the only one I can think about.
What gets me is that when I'm sitting on my porch swing enjoying the cool night breeze, I can think of all kinds of really cool ideas of things I'd love to build. I thought of a system to ontologically perceive and represent objects. I thought of a way to use a camera and three lazer pointers to make a robot create 3D maps of its environment. I thought out how to go about writing a probram that will take a sample of speech representative of a person's pronunciation of all phonemes, transitions from consonants to vowels and vice versa, and be able to recognize and perhaps synthesize their speech (minus tone). I dream about how to make an autonomous motocycle to compete in the DARPA challenge. I certainly couldn't give two shits about diachronic sound change that took place between the 1300s and 1400s when there WERE NO TAPE RECORDERS.
I care about to-date study of language variations of the english language by region! THAT is relevent to natural language perception and understanding. We won't very well get a robot to pass the Turing Test if the damn thing is constantly asking people from Boston to speak more clearly. That's why I dig accoustic phonetics and sociolinguistics. That's why I care about neuro-symbolic systems representing fuzzy syntax rules!
Quite frankly, I'm more fascinated by trying to figure out what sort of accent Wacko Warner had. He sounds like an Australian John Lenon had a child with a South African Nicole Kidman.
This only comes to mind because my Animaniacs download finished the other day, and I watched the first couple episodes.
At the very least, I'm getting my bike back tomorrow. New rear tire, new front break pads, repared coolant line, and a HOPEFULLY patched fuel leak. Three weeks ago, I would have been detonated had someone flicked a cigarette at me. I truly love my motorcycle, but it seems like it's always got something wrong with it. So I've resolved to get myself a new bike if I get into a really good school. A little graduation present to myself.
If I go Ivey League, I'll definitely go with the Harley Davidson VRSC Night Rod. And yes, I know how fallic that sounds, but the bike is so pretty. So that's something to work towards. Pricey, yes. But it's certainly not the motorcycle of a Dentist-wannabe-biker. I wouldn't go Harley to act like an extra in Wild Hogs. The engine was built in a joint effort by HD and BMW. And it's got some power to it. Vroom. If the economy bounces back and my investment has a good swelling over the next year or so, then I won't sweat the price.
I'm still nervous about PhD applications. I have to double-check to make sure the classes I need to graduate are going to be OFFERED in the next year. I'd hate to go through the motions of applying, interviews, rejection, and acceptance to have to defer my admission by a year.
The prospect of packing up and leaving Athens is both exciting and frightening. I saw leaving Gainesville and coming to Athens as a wonderful clean slate, and I was sure I'd do it RIGHT this time around. And it seems while I was resolved to only associate socially with folks in my own department, everything was balloons and happy faces. Only when I branched out did things go awry. Not fully. A solid 90% of the people I've met here have been cool. But that other 10% have been a bunch of miserable individuals I'll be glad to be rid of.
First rule: no roommates this time around. I've had some really good roommates, a couple in particular were excellent. But the others, historically, have been a pain in the ass and more trouble than they're worth. I'll do what I just did. I'll find a small house out of the way and only worry about the commute.
Second rule: beware of women... ...in general. I just revised that last sentence eight times. Beware women who LIE. Beware women who cheat. Beware women who collect ex-boyfriends. Beware women with daddy issues. Beware women who clearly suffer mental illness. Beware women who don't communicate. Beware women with no intellectual pursuits of ANY kind. Beware women who are too happy. Beware women who are too sad. Beware women who are spoiled. Beware women who treat men like a change of socks. Beware women who... ah hell. JUST BEWARE.
Third rule: establish a routine early, and stick to it. Examine all deviations as an afront to my work, my school, my health, and my sanity before breaking the routine. With a routine, things never get out of control. Things might get tight. Things might get stressful. But things will never get out of control.
Fourth rule: keep in touch with old friends, but deliberately lose touch with the ones who cause too much grief. Allow for new friends by granting a baseline of unconditional respect, but real trust is something that must be earned, not assumed or dictated. Be cautious of people who declare themselves both honest and trustworthy. Such a person will, undoubtedly, lie to and betray me. Be open to the concept of second chances, but don't shell them out like a handful of skittles from a gumball machine. Issue second chances like a socialist: only one per person.
Fifth rule: It's my PhD. Never volunteer. Time will be precious. Be more selfish than ever. Just because I can do someone a favor doesn't mean I have to do them a favor. Work very hard, and allow every other Saturday as a personal day to do nothing but fun stuff. Movie marathons, the firing range, long motorcycle rides, pleasure reading, experimental cooking, small gatherings of friends for hookah and games. The other 13 days are for school and work, so I must use them wisely.
I think those are pretty good standard operating procedures. If I can follow them, I think I can be happy and still succeed at school and work. I just gotta make sure I set it up properly the first time around. Shop around thoroughly for a place to live and work out a budget that I can stick to. Like I said, it's my PhD. It's the last leg of my education. No more screwing around. No more MOVING every year. No more drama from "friends" and girlfriends.
Anything that messes with my life will be met with cold, merciless, precise action.
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