As it so often is when I am writing these blogs, it's four o'clock in the morning. I have just returned from Sheetz, where I secured a Bucket o' Fryz and a cheeseburger (although I imagine they call it a Cheezeburger). There was a great debate in my mind over the additional purchase of donuts, but the rational half (okay, one-tenth) of my mind--which has been forcing me to start going to the gym again--prevailed.  Therefore, I am sans donuts.

I was actually awake until almost six o'clock yesterday morning, so I still have a little leeway before I enter the realm of even worse sleeping habits. I had a pretty good excuse, though: two tests, Latin and Elementary Functions. The Latin stuff I was pretty up to snuff on...demonstrative pronouns and the like (hic haec hoc ille illa illud iste ista istud is ea id etc. etc. etc.). Functions, now...that's a whole 'nother ball game (which began at, like, five or six in the evening and ended at five or six in the morning).

Math (or "the maffs," as I refer to the subject, oftentimes in abject fear) is not my cup of tea. It would be better to describe it as my cup of cyanide, served with biscuits soaked in Drano. That is to say: there are some things which come naturally to me, and some things I have to work at, and some things I couldn't grasp even if I had years to work with.

And then there's the maffs. The maffs are not kind to me. They fall into their own curious category of "things I try to do and sometimes fool myself into thinking I understand." Folding laundry, washing dishes, and dropping pick-up lines are all examples of this class. So are inverse functions, graphical transformations, and imaginary numbers.

Correlation I do understand, though, and I have a supreme grasp of irony; therefore the apparent connection between the third item in the first set in the third item in the second set does not escape me. In the maffs, you might say that for the given value X (X being me dropping pick-up lines), there is only one corresponding Y (imaginary numbers).

Congratulations if you've managed to work your way through my rather dry slash droll slash self-deprecating pun.

I don't think I did too badly on the test, actually. Ironically, I managed to get the extra credit question, but got stumped on one of the presumably easier normal problems. Story of my life, really. Still, I'm glad I won't have to endure that kind of marathon study session for a while longer.

In other news, Pennsylvania's primary is creeping up on us. I hope everyone reading this who is registered to vote here will be doing so. I, alas, cannot...no, I'm not a convicted felon, but my party isn't large enough to hold its own primary in the Keystone State. Participation is vital, folks. I don't care who you vote for: just get out there and vote.

Well, okay, that's not completely true. I do care who you vote for, or at any rate would do my best to convince you to vote for the candidate I believe is the best choice. I don't think this is really the place to do that, though. Feel free to email me at emerson.duym@email.stvincent.edu if you'd like to discuss it...or, even better, flag me down around campus.

And now, I do believe it's time for bed...I can hear birds outside my window. Even I, with my love of winter, must admit to feeling a sense of relief now that the signs of spring are drawing themselves subtly around us.

Ah, such pretty birdsong...so much preferable to the squeaks and chitters of vermin in my walls and on my counter and in my breadbox.