So it begins.

Tomorrow, the proposal for my big-frickin'-huge graphics project is due, and for the next four weeks I shall be frantically attempting to implement 10 different graphical algorithms and piece them all together into something that resembles the game of Risk.

I will also be eating occasionally, and going to the bathroom, but there isn't really time for anything else.

I will spend the next month chained and tied to this desk thinking polygons polygons polygons, particles, height maps, texels, and other such things I don't quite understand yet. If you have trouble getting a hold of me, it's because I've become amazed that my reflection in the bathroom mirror has such a high refresh rate despite being such a complex polygonal mesh, and I refuse to leave until I figure out how it's done and how I can use it make little computer generated armies hack each other to bits on triangular mountain terrain.

Damn particles. The last two just scooted away from us.

Our perfect 7-0 season just turned to a 7-1 season, as we lost our semi-final 7-4 to a team that seemed to be sweating steroids. Thus, our first-place round-robin finish and my top spot among goaltenders ends my UW ball hockey career; 2 C-league championships and a B2 crown over 7 terms ain't so bad.

Merry Spudlemas!!

Friends, family, Grad Ball. Best birthday ever.

Some stories I like to keep just for me.

It's funny how history sneaks up on you. Just a few days ago we were celebrating our upcoming university graduation, and today I stumble across this picture of my juniour kindergarten graduation on an old friend's website. (I'm the one on the left.) Granted, I'm a lot bigger now, and I put in a lot more work to get here now than back then, but that little five-year old felt it was a great big deal at the time.

Finally, my lazy ass has gotten me somewhere.

A few months back, I won a "Nicest Butt" competition, and I just now received my prize. Meet Ruffles, affectionately known as "Bear Ass" to his friends. He was accompanied on the long cross-country trip by a few items befitting a SPU, including a hockey-playing muppet, a can of chicken noodle soup (but not Chicken Noodle soup), and - naturally - a bag of Oreos.

"I love feeling dumb." - D.E. Dan

Very strange weather, we're having; I didn't know the Sun could rise and set so many times in the same day. I remember the days when the phrase "four o'clock" would never be paired with the letters "AM". That was something that seemed distant and elusive, almost mystical -- the sort of thing you'd only hear about in spook stories involving several things going "bump", "squeak", and "boohaha".

Ah, 4AM, how I know thee well now, my persistent and treacherous foe. What adventures we have embarked together; what terrors we have faced; what battles I have fought with thee. Yet, after every savage battle, after every narrow victory, after every crushing defeat, just as the never-ending forces of the universe ebb and flow, we return to face each other as we have before.......

5:30 AM.
156 and a half hours left.

Happy Easter!

9:00 PM
93 hours left.

SPU, busy busy busy...