Personal Narratives

I happen to know that some of you narrate your life. I know this because I can hear you when you walk past me and say things that could only describe yourself, such as, "She approached David with hesitation. Would this be the moment she had been waiting for, when she had a normal conversation with him and he didn't tell a horrendous joke? As his lips stretched to speak she prayed for a miracle. But no, it was all in vain. The conversation was again typical of David; his words were straight out of a second graders' joke book." When my friend orated all that to me I mentioned casually that I could hear her and knew that I was the David to which she was referring. She seemed a little shocked, and then apologized for being too loud. It was all quite aberrant.
 But then I got to thinking about narrating my own life and the fun it could birth. Whenever you think you are having a boring day imagine James Earl Jones or Morgan Freeman or your grandmother walking a stranger through your actions.
"He opens up his math book, in the mathematics laboratory. He is sitting next to a man, whose name he knows not. To his right is a wall. A white wall. He thinks of the graffiti that could enliven the white wall. 'Do you know how to do #5?' asks the anonymous, potentially sketchy, man to his left. David ponders his sketchiness, ponders the graffiti-less wall, ponders the cabbage sandwich he had for lunch and thinks perhaps lettuce would have been a better option, then back to the white man and replies, 'Yes.' But it's too late. There is no one there. As you'd have it, the entire mathematics laboratory is empty, except for the posters of great mathematicians like David Hilbert and George Cantor. David looks at his watch. He realized he had been pondering that lettuce vs. cabbage issue for three hours. That's a long time to debate one sandwich. But then he justifies himself by thinking that the one decision will affect all the future turkey sandwiches he will make in his life, and finds peace knowing that his three hour internal debate today will assure him fine food for years to come. It has been a good day."
That is one way to make your worthless afternoon sound good to anyone. I would recommend it, but also include a warning that when you are narrating your interactions with others, try not to let them hear you.

Pi Day 2010

There is only one day in the year that we math majors get to glorify our knowledge of irrational numbers and the Greek alphabet- free of the ridicule and harassment of others, like Recreational Management and Youth Leadership majors. That day is Pi Day, March 14! It occurs every year at this time, and is so named because the first three digits of pi are 3.14. The next three digits are 159, so 1:59 is the official pi time of pi day.
Here's why I'm grateful for pi:

• I can spell it, and draw it.
• It makes radius to circumference ratios easier to handle.
• It is never ending, like a trip through Wyoming. On second thought, that's not a very good reason to be thankful for pi...
• On pi day the only thing to do is eat pie, one of my favorite desserts. 

Pi is pretty sweet, that's for sure (pun intended). I can only imagine what it's like in Greece. I bet they go crazy, doing pi trivia and what not.
P.S. Have you ever checked out www.failblog.org? It is so funny it may knock your socks off.
P.P.S. The above picture is compliments of www.snorgtees.com, which as some pretty witty shirts, if I may say so myself.

Aveda: Do it the Aveda Way

Do you know what the Aveda way is? Just when I thought I had extinguished all the hair schools in the Provo area, the salons solved my own problem: Changing ownership! What used to be the Dallas Roberts Academy is now the Aveda School of Beauty. Only not yet- it hasn't opened. I was invited to be a pre-opening hair model by an inside connection I have obtained through my reviews. Aveda is not yet taking customers from the general public, but I was invited to the junkett. There were construction workers everywhere, I had to walk through a Bosnian war-zone to get to the makeshift dust free room, and then there were only two shampoo stalls. That didn't sound like the Aveda way to me, until the haircut episode began. I sat in the chair was was instructed to close my eyes. The salonist told me she would touch my shoulder lightly and I was to take two deep breaths. The purpose of it all was to determine which scented oil I liked the best so that it could be lathered into my hair. The touch of my shoulder was... well, not really there. I couldn't tell if I had just been tapped or if someone had opened the door. After getting an oil rinse the actual massage began. I was again instructed to close my eyes as she worked me up and down my shoulders and head. Yes, there was even a coordinated ear rub involved. That, apparently, is the Aveda way. I didn't complain. Then the haircut marathon began. It was a quality, two and a half hour haircut. I had some other things planned that day that were succumbed by Aveda, but that's alright. It was a great haircut, and for monetarily free. Once Aveda opens up officially I will definitely consider going back. The oil in the hair kind of made me feel like a whale, but that's fine.