Beer and Epiphanies

Thank god I took some time to have beers with a math grad colleague
and my non-mathy best friend! They asked me the simple question, "what
is your research good for?" Now, this question is an obvious one, but
most math people have no idea if there's a positive answer to it.

After trying to explain what I do, and explaining the (string theory)
context of it, I was at a loss for why I was going to be spending
years making one type of calculation (counting classes of curves on a
surface). At about the second beer, though, it hit me: I was counting
the number of formations in which a super-string could wrap itself
around the extra invisible dimensions of the universe!

No more derisive looks from my friends when they ask what math is good
for, no sir! I'm working on finding all the possible ways matter and
forces can exist! Take that! And all because of good friends, a couple
beers, and a quarter century of mathematical study!

A Pro Po

Dear Dan (a fellow grad student),

Strangely enough, our conversation about whether blind alleys should be put into expositions about math was take. Up in Spivak's introduction. He suggests describing a nice way that the subject _could_ have arisen instead of the actual way. For, as he writes, "there is no reason, in mathematics any more than in biology, why ontogeny must recapitulate phylogeny. When modern terminology finally is introduced, it should be as an outgrowth of this (mythical) historical development."

Go ahead, look up the words. I did;)

-Brandon

Sent from my iPhone

Nightmares and Porn Stars

I just had that age-old nightmare that you, my dear reader, have probably had, yourself. In it, I had to take a math test that I was totally unprepared for. To make matters worse, the teacher administering the test was the man my former fellow undergrads at Georgia Tech had called "Evil Santa Clause" due to his snowy-white beard, nasty eyes, and penchant for making students cry. The dream went on and on and on with me even asking for more time despite the impossible-ness of the test.

Thank God I woke up at 7.

I take this dream as a sign that I'm worried about the amount of work I've accomplished. Perhaps all those "stolen halves" have accumulated this week. So into the gaping maw of study I throw myself.

It does not help that I just ran into a celebrity porn star in the coffee shop where I'm studying. To Faceboook and then to study!

Stolen Halves

A grad student's day can be said to be comprised of half hours stolen from the maw of reseach. Any and every hour can be devoted to study, but such a life inexorably leads to painful, long-lasting burnouts. And so that half-hour commute where you could be learning is spent
instead blogging. That half-hour before section is spent sipping coffee and eyeing cute undergrads. That half hour between meetings is spent chatting with your smoker-friend who, though a little smelly, is a reliable fixture ready for plein-aire procrastination.

The Smell of Accomplishment

Exhaustion, my dear hypothetical reader, comes in many forms. Mine, this Friday evening is the mental and emotional type. I have spent the
week obsessively memorizing algebra proofs to impress a professor who is well beyond impressing. My meeting with him today, though, did have the whiff of going well. Of the stuff that I knew, I knew it really well. Go ahead, ask me anything about Jacobson radicals. (ok, not
anything).

Imitation and Flattery

Ah, there are few things more satisfying than teaching gone well. As I whiz by the sun setting over the gorgeous Mission Bay, I bask in the
warmth of the memories of my students' smiles...during math class!

Sure there were mistakes, like when I reprimanded a student for laying his head down in class (it eventually it came out that he had been hit by a car while skateboarding and was worn out from everything involved...whoops!).

But in sum, we had a nice first meeting. We connected, we did math, I even took them on a field trip to my office (woohoo!).

And most importantly, one student actually asked me where I had bought my sweater vest! Ah, imitation is truly the sincerest form of flattery.

Balance on a Bus

It's fitting that my inaugural post about one math grad student's valiant efforts to maintain a work/life balance should be written on a bus that is rocking back and forth like a kangaroo with a limp.

Anyways, most math graduate students find that their attempts at a work/life balance end up in a jarring game of see-saw. And therefore I predict this blog will be full of drama, emotion, humor, love, and, yes, math. I'll try to warn you if the math is going to get dense, otherwise this should be pretty readable to the non (or not-yet) -mathematician.

Welcome and Enjoy!
-Brandon