future
You are viewing stuff tagged with future.
You are viewing stuff tagged with future.
3 December, 2013
Dear baby,
Today we found out that you are our baby. We love you already. Your mama went to the doctor’s office and they took your first picture. You are very small right now, just the length of a grain of rice — a “basmati grain of rice,” your mom said. I hope that someday you might read what I am writing and it might give you some insight into that mysterious time when your parents were young and not even five years into their marriage. We love one another so so much, and we want you to be in our family.
I was running to my car outside the other day, and I planted my left foot to pivot. That foot was on ice, and completely slid out from under me. One moment I was up and running, and you know the way your brain leaves out the details when something painful happens quickly? The next nanosecond I was down on the ground. I laid there for a little while, thankful I had tugged my left leather & wool mitten on the hand that gave the ground a ringing SLAAAP. Up and running, down and not running.
I’m 13 years in, trying to build a blog that will last my entire life. I’d like to share what I’ve learned about thinking and coding for the long term.
In late 1999, I was 14 years old, and had just spent the last few months absorbing TI BASIC and trying to grok Z80 assembly. Seeking a community of like-minded individuals, and lacking the wide net or social aspirations to find one locally, I was also hard at work assembling an archive of TI Calculator software using free web site hosts like Angelfire and Tripod. I won’t link the results because, wow, are they embarrassing.
The pollen outside today was actually visible. It was raining pollen onto the car, and I could see many little granules of it running in delicate rivulets down the glass. Surprisingly, both Mykala and I seem to either be getting used to the constant congestion of allergy season or our bodies are adjusting. Mykala might have mono, and by extension so might I. Both of us have histories of remarkably poor ear nose and throat health. My future children (not yet on the way, though Mykala and I frequently talk about you in the abstract), if you are reading this, I am very sorry for your ears — you can blame both myself and your mother.
We had three trick-or-treaters this year. Down from four last year. Next year, I suppose things’ll be different. We might live in a different house. I’ll be working instead of going to school. I’ll have patients of my own, instead of patients of the school’s.
I don’t know, exactly, how it will be different. But I know it will be different. Exciting and scary.
Since the humidity and heat decided to die down for a day, it has been feeling downright cool outside — 70° with a pleasant breeze. Things smell different — there’s a crispness that isn’t fall but isn’t the oppressive July heat, either.
Halfway through yet another rotation (pediatric dentistry), I’m beginning to realize that there is a point in my life when I’ll be done with dental school. At that point, I’ll have a world of options in front of me. Like a river delta opening into the ocean, my life will have 1000 directions where there once was one. Invigorating, right? Well, I suppose. More on that in a minute. Here’s something I wrote almost four years ago, on the private changelog for my software that powers tumbledry:
Someday, it is my dream to live on a sunny hilltop where I can see the stars at night. I think I’ll feel content. Right now, I can’t see the stars at night, but I still feel content. I guess it’s not about where you are, but who is there with you.
I am just so unbelievably excited to own my own business fixing people’s teeth, I can barely stand it. If you’re in the Twin Cities area five years from now, and your tooth hurts, please do look me up.
But seriously, I am SO EXCITED.
Back in June of 2005, I said that in a couple of years, we’d have thin, transparent speakers. These would, of course, make our laptop monitors into big speakers. What happened? Where are my transparent speakers, Where’s My Jetpack?