Sunday, January 23, 2011

Reasons to be gruntled

No, not disgruntled. A list of pleasures, not all of them guilty, but yes, a fair share of them more than a little shame-faced and "I confess..." And as a special treat, I'm going to let my S&S girls ask me one question each about the list that I have to answer. And I think they might have some after reading it.


1. The ice that forms on cliff faces in wintertime
2. Peeing in the shower
3. Hot chocolate
4. Irish people
5. Unrequited loved
6. New DVDs
7. Peanut butter and Oreos
8. Peanut butter and jelly with the crusts cut off
9. Tall glasses of milk, with sweat beading on the sides
10. Raw cookie dough
11. James Blunt CDs
12. Poppy country music
13. Dirty, grimy, in the bones country music
14. The first crocus
15. Buttercups
16. Skype conference calls with R, M, J, and C
17. "That's what she said" jokes
18. Live music
19. Being hit on and flirting with 46 year old Irish bassists
20. Bassists, generally
21. Mustaches
22. Quotes about history
23. The (second) defenestration of Prague
24. Plaid
25. Miley Cyrus gossip
26. Zefron
27. Playing Monopoly
28. Peacock feathers
29. Weddings
30. Singing or speaking really, really fast
31. Jackson Browne
32. Pickles
33. Raspberry sorbet
34. Eating 21 scoops of ice cream every first Tuesday in June
35. Fenway Park
36. Riding the T from JFK to Kendall
37. The USS Constitution
38. River sounds
39. Honey mustard
40. Earnestness
41. Glitter
42. Dragonflies
43. The color blue
44. Falling in love
45. Kissing Dan
46. Jars, bottles, and other glass vessels
47. Seaglass (or had you forgotten?!)
48. Sequins
49. His ass, cause it's covered in sequins
50. Stupid inside jokes
51. Deep-fried Mars Bars
52. Denim skirts
53. Red-heads
54. Blue eyes
55. My parents' relationship
56. Meringues, especially melting them on my tongue
57. Live music
58. Making jokes about Marvin Gaye
59. Fake tattoos
60. Coins that trains have flattened
61. The ocean
62. Scotch
63. Tequila
64. Really terrible romantic comedies
65. Puns
66. Water
67. Swimming
68. Walking
69. Wearing Dan's sweatshirts
70. Dollhouses
71. Trees with names carved into them
72. Big Macs
73. Frozen Swiss Cake Rolls
74. Frozen Star Crunches
75. Mac and cheese
76. Chicken salad
77. Frozen yogurt with peanut butter sauce
78. Staying up late
79. Climbing volcanoes
80. Late night radio
81. Pub quiz
82. Family Feud
83. Jim Morrison
84. holding hands
85. Wearing dresses to inappropriate events
86. Candlepin bowling
87. Snowden
88. Chocolate covered sunflower seeds
89. The smell of dirt
90. Cranberries
91. Trees that look like they are dying after the foliage is over
92. Snow
93. James Dean, when he smiled
94. James Dean, when he looked broken
95. Flintstones vitamins
96. John Hiatt music
97. Farmhouses with wraparound porches and detached barns
98. Cape houses
99. Trees
100. Life can be beautiful
101. Oh, and this...

Monday, January 10, 2011

Mhairi's Birthday, Mhairi's Birthday, Mhairi's Birthday

Dearest Mhairi/Mhazz/Momar/Mohair/McBoobies

Today you have been alive for 20 whole years. Apart from this making you ridiculously old, it also makes it your birthday! Happy Birthday! I've been trying to write this alld ay, and now there is less than half an hour left till your birthday, so HERE YOU GO! :D ...

On this day, twenty years ago, it was a thursday night and the moon was a waning crescent  in the sky. Somewhere in Washington, Michaelangelo (that is, the ninja turtle) was giving a speech to elementary school students about sea-turtles.The radios in the UK would have been playing Madonna's Just My Love, for it was at the top of the charts that day. The world was getting excited about compact-discs - the forefront of technology. The internet was still only whispered about. As you can see, it was an entirely unwitting world Mhairi was born into, one that did not recognise at the time the gravity of the fact; Mhairi was born, the world would never, ever be the same.

In these twenty years since, Mhairi has radically changed the world. She would spend most of her formative years with a group of wacky individuals she would often refer to as her minions, and indeed they responded as such. She soon overthrew a small country (she didn't want to appear too cocky initially) and devised the perfect society, a model that was soon adopted by the rest of the world when she became its unquestioned ruler. Aside from the odd ice sculpture of her spouting fine quality wine, she was a humble leader.

Mhairi, only 12 years old at the time, decided to step down from the responsibilities of world-leadership a few years in, in order to seek a more personally fulfilling role within the world. Though this caused the perfect-society model to collapse and caused a world-wide economy crash, food crisis and inevitably a rip in the space time continuum, no body really minded, and such things have a habit of sorting themselves out given time (and they had plenty, given the rip in the time-space continuum had dissolved the concept for a while). So Mhairi turned to a quest of discovering her true talent, which so happened to be competitive may-pole dancing. During her adventures at this pivotal period of her life she also happened to find a cure for the common cold, discovered why molecules have mass, and was granted Freedom of the British Isles for single-handedly drawing up an economic plan that averted the looming crisis within the NHS.

Mhairi, now approaching her golden years, has written the first in a series of personal memoirs that give close-up insight into the struggle behind such a beautiful, fantastic life, titled "Mhairi - Fighting With My Bear Hands" and there have been whispers about whether or not she really did have an alien baby.

Mhairi now lives in Hollywood (rumour has it famous, nine-time Oscar winning director Aidan Nicol is soon to make a film documenting her life) in her humble, 80-bedroomed abode, with her partner Roseanne, who constantly makes her sticky.

Wishing the legedary Mhairi McNeill a very very very happy birthday! :)

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

More loveliness

I quit my job.

Dear Boston:

Take me back, please? I'm sorry; I was wrong. I'm coming home to your intrepid and narrow one-way streets. I'm returning to golden domes and molasses floods and rivers named after men. Concerts in dingy-looking basements and late-night kebab adventures. I'm coming back to you.

I thought capital buildings and capital cities could replace the contentment of sitting under trees on the Common or the view from World's End. That I could make a new family as dysfunctional and wonderful and insane and crazy and lovely as my own.

I'm sorry, my love. Take me back and don't be too harsh. Remember that I love you and that was never in doubt. I just had to see what else was out there. It doesn't work, Boston, not the nonsensical way you do.

I'm coming back to the city that prompted James Carroll to write:

To talk of the purely imagined elements of the mental map Americans carry of this city is the farthest thing from debunking these fondly held ideas as “mere myth,” as if there were anything mere about mythology. What we dream of, whether a lost past or a longed-for future, does, in fact, tell us something quite real about ourselves. Thus, the sentimental fog that wraps even Boston’s hard-edged actualities can lift to reveal something deeply authentic.


Love,

Ashley

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Loveliness is divine

AS YOU KNOW:

there's a new boy in town. But we're going back to an old favorite for this challenge post. A little someone I liked to call the Magic Charms (because he's magically delicious?) or more frequently, Paddy O'Furniture (because Robert created the name). Anyway, the scene:

I, cold and alone, have just moved to Scotland like five days ago. I'm jetlagged and all I want is some hot chocolate. So I step into a little cafe called "Juice Monkeys" and I order myself my favorite cold weather beverage. The person sitting at the counter on his laptop, I noticed as I approached the empty register, was rather lovely. He stood, slid behind the countertop, and took my order and two-pound coin. Then he brought me my hot chocolate.

In the meantime, we had a lovely conversation about how he was Irish and thus reminded me of home in, er, Boston, because Boston is wicked Irish? Anyway. He has these gorgeous cornflower blue eyes that just bore into me. And I have a lovely, blustery morning chocolate. I sit there filling out a postcard to my grandfather while I indulge. When I leave, I drop the postcard in the postbox just outside Juice Monkeys, right near St Patrick's Square (OHSOFITTING).

Ten minutes later, my mother calls me to inform me that my grandfather died a few minutes before. I cry and return to the coffee shop for a few more delicious hot chocolates.

It becomes a ritual for me and eventually, I learn Magic Charm's real name (Paul) and that he is older than he looks (31, at the time). He gets so friendly with me that he lets me choose the music he plays and, at one point, sent me with a tenner for strawberries. To this day, I believe that he was as taken by me as I was by him. We remain in occasional communication and some awkward but endearing IsItFlirting? is prone to ensue. It makes me smile, right?

The lasting legacy of this most lovely of encounters (spanning six months, is it still a mere encounter?) is something simpler and altogether lovely, itself.

Hot chocolate. I can't drink it without hearing Paul clear his throat or picturing the way he'd smile through his hair. I feel the warm, comfortable peace of sitting in Juice Monkeys on a gray winter/early spring afternoon by myself, reading a David Sedaris book and carrying on a fascinating conversation about nothing with him. I drink hot chocolate every day and remember a person with whom I had a lovely, perfect friendship. I remember a feeling of sublime peace and sedation. Every single day, I indulge my desire for something sweet and lovely and simple and with it comes an avalanche of lovely, simple, sweet memories of a time when I ought to have been sad, but instead felt warmth and affection.


Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Beckoning all of the loveliness

Bonj!

I have started the Beckoning of Lovely Challenge! At 7am AliBlah and I woke up and this occurred.


Today has been brilliant, we went out to check on the stump a few times and people had moved things around and rearranged it (because stuff kept blowing over) without stealing anything! We can also see it from the window, and I had to stop myself from watching people's reactions to it all day: photos were taken, crackers were pulled and then replaced carefully when they realised there was nothing inside... beautiful.

We took it in around 7pm tonight, to prevent theft from drunken yooofs, but it will be out again tomorrow with new things :) Will keep you updated on any happenings...

In other news, check out this exciting new Tumblr with lots of pictures of snow and sculptures and wonderful things! I totally did not create it or name it after a family in-joke both me and Mhairi share...

Hope you are all well, happy December and I am excited for to see your projects :)

Lovelove, Crackalacka Craa Craa xxx

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Top 10 Pieces of Mathematical Awesomeness


  1. Euclid's Axioms for Geometry.


Everyone knows Euclid's Axioms for Geometry – yes, even you! That's because Eucild's Axioms are what you do when you go to primary school and you learn about shapes. Even if you didn't learn anything in primary school, you still know Euclid's axioms, that's how easy they are. It's a shame that the “Lines and shapes” chapter in your primary school maths book isn't called “Euclid's Axioms for Geometry and their immediate consequences” because doing geometry with axioms is really cool.


To understand axiomatic maths you have to pretend you know nothing about the world. In particular, you know nothing about Geometry What are points? What are lines? Can you draw a line between two points? You don't know. Now Euclid is going to tell you five statements about geometry – these statements are the infamous axioms. The axioms are incredibly obvious to anyone who's been alive for more than 30 seconds, but they are all you need to prove pretty much anything you would ever want to know about geometry. Here they are:


  1. Two points can have a line drawn between them

  2. You can draw any line as long as you like

  3. Circles exist

  4. Every right angle is the same

  5. Parallel lines do not meet *


There is so much you can prove just from these axioms - from really obvious facts (triangles have three sides and three corners) to less obvious ones (Pythagoras' Theorem, the angles in a triangle add up to 360 degrees). You can even prove facts about algebra. You can prove that any number can be uniquely split up into primes using Euclid's axioms. I have no idea how you prove this, but Wikipedia tells me that you can so that's enough proof for me.


Euclid wrote his book of axioms and proved everything I've told you about in 300BC. That's about 2300 years ago. You do hear a lot about how smart the Greeks were, but seriously: they were smart. Maths before the Greeks was all: “I have two apple in one hand and three in the other, I wonder how many apples I have?”. Axioms are really really important in modern maths. And proofs are really really really important - maths is proofs.


*This axiom is interesting - you can prove most things without it and actually for a long time people thought you didn't need it at all. The maths of General Relativity uses a special kind of geometry where parallel lines can meet, it's trippy.


  1. The Axiom of Choice


Mathematicians since Euclid have generally been pretty impressed by his axioms. In the early 20th Century they were so impressed they decided to copy him and invent their own collection of axioms – but this time they didn't just want to describe geometry they wanted to describe ALL OF MATHS. Maths is pretty big and pretty complicated and we know a lot about it, so boiling it down to a few simple statements is kind of a big deal.


To do this they “invented” sets. What's a set I hear you ask? Well, anything is a set! {1,2,3,4} is a set, it contains the numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4. But 2 on it's own is also a set, but it's a pretty boring set because it doesn't contain anything. Every number up to infinity is a set, and the collection of numbers up to infinity is a set (we write the set of all numbers like this: {1, 2, 3, …} with the ellipses just meaning “and so on”). {a,b,c} is a set and so is {@,£,$,%} and, best of all, YOU are a set! (you're my favourite set). So if we know about sets we know about anything. Okay, we know the maths of anything. Even though all cancers form a set I can't tell you how to cure cancer using set theory :(


So all the mathematicians worked really hard and worked out all the axioms, but there's one problem... we call that problem the axiom of choice. We need this axiom to prove lots of really important, really obvious things. If we don't have the axiom of choice we can't prove that multiplying two non-empty sets together gives another non-empty set. Whole chunks of maths need the axiom of choice to get anywhere. But the axiom also proves lots of things that just aren't true. For example if the axiom of choice is true then we can take a sphere, split it into pieces and put it back together so that we get two spheres of the same size... (Hey guys, you can now get this joke, yay!)


So no one is very sure if The Axiom of Choice is true or not. It's terrible! The moral of the story is never to believe anyone who tells you maths is all logical and consistent, because it's not.



  1. The Russell Set


Remember how I just said that everything is a set? Well, that was the original definition but it turns out to be a terrible definition that makes no sense. Don't believe me? I'll show you:


Lets think about a set that contains all sets that do not contain themselves. Pretty confusing set, but there is no reason why it shouldn't be a set. Let's call this set the Russell* set.


Now, is the set Russell a member of the Russell Set?


If it is then

it doesn't contain it's self

and so it's not.


But if it's not then

it's a member of the Russell set

and so it does contain it's self.


As I said, it's pretty confusing. There is lots of clever ways of redefining sets so that we don't run into these problems but it's further proof that logic and mathematics is actually a bit crazy!



*Named after after Bernard Russell, who pointed out this whole problem. You've probably heard of his - he had his fingers in many pies. And he was like... really good at all those pies.)




  1. An infinity of infinities.


Okay remember that set we talked about – the set of all numbers from 1 to infinity, or {1, 2, 3, …}. We call that set the set of all natural numbers. And this set is infinitely big right? And you can't get any set bigger than this? Right? Wrong! We actually have an infinity of sets bigger than this. It's crazy, even crazier than I can adequately explain.


The set of all numbers and all their negatives {…, -3, -2, -1, 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, …} might look like its bigger, but actually its the same size as the set of natural numbers. The set of all fractions is also the same size – even though there is an infinity of fractions between any two fractions! But the set all decimal numbers – numbers like 4.12392701 – is a “bigger infinity”. It's hard to explain, and it doesn't seem to make any sense. The man who proved this ended up dying in an asylum with his proofs widely mocked. But it's okay because we all believe him now!


Knowing about sets bigger than infinity is really useful for explaining the axiom of choice. Basically, what the axiom of choice says is that if we have a really big infinity of infinitely big sets we can always chose an element from each of the sets.


5. Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorem


Okay, now for my final depressing reason that maths doesn't actually make sense. You know how I told you how great axioms are, well...


In 1931 when he was only 25 Kurt Gödel proved that any systems of axioms complicated enough to prove anything interesting would be incomplete: there will be statements that are true that we cannot prove.


Doesn't it blow your mind that someone can prove something like that?


And the Incompleteness Theorem matters – there is things that we do not know and cannot know. We will never be able to prove that there exists a set bigger than the natural numbers {1,2,3,4...} but smaller than the set of all decimal numbers. Wow.


Did I mention that Kurt Gödel also went crazy and thought everyone was poisoning him?


So for the sake of my sanity (and yours if you've made it this far) I'm going to stop at 5. After all maths is nuts and maybe 10 = 5 ;)


Love you peeps, I'm off to work on my actual maths project!


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


challenge post; the concept of lovely

go here, watch and smile :)

This is still one of my favourite videos on YouTube. In fact all of the The Beckoning of Lovely videos are.

So my challenge is: do something lovely. Anything lovely; for yourselves or for others, it doesn't matter. Then come here and write about that lovely thing.

It doesn't have to be extravagant, in fact simple pleasures are often the most satisfying. Practising the concept of lovely can surely only lead to a little bit more happiness in a world that often isn't so accommodating for such a feeling :)

No strict deadline, but before the new year would be pretty nice :)


(Oh, a reminder to Jenny and Mhairi; we're still excitedly awaiting your top ten lists!)