:: My Divided Soul ::

I am now officially running for the office of PhD. In other words, I passed my A-exam. I’d say the presentation went quite well, as there were at least a few people who didn’t seem completely baffled by the work. A number of people even asked questions, which was the part I dreaded the most. However, they were all answerable questions and I’d like to think I held my own in responding. This means I now have my Masters degree and, as Dexter said, “all you have to do now is write a thesis.”

On Friday, I will be presenting my A-Exam for admission to candidacy in the PhD program. The work is based on the paper I presented at MKM in Germany. Below is the announcement for my exam and any of you in Ithaca are more than welcome to attend!

Title: A Proof-Theoretic Approach to Hierarchical Math Library Organization
Speaker: Kamal Aboul-Hosn
When: Friday, 19 August 2005 at 11:00am
Location: Rhodes 484

The relationship between theorems and lemmas in mathematical reasoning is often vague. Nevertheless, the decisions we make in creating lemmas provide an inherent hierarchical structure to the statements we prove. Theorem provers generally have flat library structures with no formal distinction between lemmas and theorems. The reasons to distinguish lemmas from theorems in these systems is the same as the reasons in papers: to ascribe various levels of importance and to introduce dependency or scoping relationships. We seek to formalize these notions and provide a proof-theoretic means by which to organize a set of proofs in a hierarchical fashion that reflects this natural structure.

In this talk, we propose a system that represents and manipulates scope formally through the structure of the library of proofs. We provide a representation of proofs, a set of rules to manipulate proofs, and several motivating examples. We believe that the ability to create and manage complex scoping and dependency relationships among proofs will allow systems for formalized mathematics to more accurately reflect the natural structure of mathematical knowledge.

I know that this is the third entry in a row that has something to do with drumming. That fact probably accurately reflects how important drumming is in my life. Something has happened in my drumming life that I have wanted for many, many years: I got to play rock songs in front of people.

I now play in a band with Dexter and Joel. They have been playing music together for many years, most recently in the band The Burning Sensations. Their drummer left and now we’ve started jamming together, getting through a number of songs pretty quickly.

Our first gig happened last week, at a fraternity. However, the show was for a bunch of lovely ladies from the vet school…and they were in togas. Playing some of my favorite songs in front of a bunch of women in togas. Can life get any better? We ran through a bunch of awesome songs including “Rearviewmirror” by Pearl Jam, “Inside Out” by Eve 6, and “I Alone” by Live. The songs that really got the crowd jumping were “Vertigo” by U2 and the originals that The Burning Sensations had written. It was my first time being exposed to the latter songs, so I had to fake my way through them.

For my first rock show in front of people in eight years, I’d say it went very well. I remember messing up a few times to the point that Dexter looked at me with a confused look on his face. I doubt many in the audience noticed, as a number of them had consumed a significant amount of alcohol. Nevertheless, I was rockin’ out with my head banging and my sticks twirling. As we were doing “sound check” Joel comments that I would probably have to play more quietly but, yeah, that didn’t happen. I played the church show with Dexter using brushes, so I wanted to take full advantage of the fact that I had my drumsticks in my hands for this show. One simply cannot play a song like “Rearviewmirror” quietly! This is why I wear earplugs. I think I left some of the audience and Dexter and Joel wishing they had done the same.

We played for more than two hours and had a number of sing-alongs with the members of the audience. The next morning, my arms hurt, my neck hurt, and my back hurt. It is the kind of pain that comes with the satisfaction of having had a lot of fun fulfilling a lifelong dream. I can’t wait until we get the opportunity to play again. We just practiced again tonight, learning a couple new tunes. We are looking to play some gigs that will be open to the public so those of you in I-Town can come rock out with us!

I mentioned a few things in my previous post about being a drummer for life and I feel the need to go into a bit more detail about that. I’ve been playing drumset for thirteen years and it has become a part of me. Playing an instrument like the drums is more than just making sound. It is freeing myself from the rest of the world in short moments of bliss, where all that exists are the drums, the music, and me.

It took years to get to that point. When I was in elementary school, I played percussion. It was at this time I learned the fundamentals and played on a little rubber pad with small sticks that matched my small size. In middle school, I started in the band, but quit when the conductor told kids to hit each other if they messed up and also threatened to put “Wind-up Monkey” next to my name in the program if I continued with my cymbal playing technique. The following year, I started private lessons with a Penn State student, Doug Stephens. He was the perfect teacher: patient, encouraging, and good at what he did. He continued my lessons on snare drum until half a year later when I was ready to move to drumset.

A thirteen-year-old really can’t feel much cooler than when he receives his first set of drums. I remember I skipped my weekly Energy Club meeting to open the box and put the drums together. I doubt anyone will fault me for that. My first lessons on the entire kit were spent just trying to get the coordination down. It takes a bit of work to get the limbs to work independently. I had a blast doing it, though, as well as just randomly banging around.

By the time I entered high school, I tried out for and made jazz band. Granted, I was in by default, as only two of us tried out and they took two drummers. It was my first experience playing with a group and was I ever bad at it. The music should have been relatively easy, but I still struggled. One can read music and practice alone, but it does not provide much preparation for an ensemble situation. The next year, I tried out again–my audition went horribly–and didn’t get in.

A couple years later, I was in my first band called Mandalla. Oh, those were fun times, having the guys in my basement playing and writing songs. We thought we were awesome. In fact, Mandalla is a bit of a legend at State College High School, where we played a “Smells Like Teen Spirit” so loudly, they could hear it across the street.

Over the years, I continued weekly lessons with Doug and then with another Penn State student, Gregg Goldner, as well as played in another band called The Whole Nine. At least, that’s the name we had for the longest. We managed to get one show in before I left the band because of personality conflicts.

It wasn’t until I started playing with my musical partners in crime that the drums became to me what they are today. I am of course referring to BNG, Lee, and Matt. We didn’t have the goal of playing shows in public. We didn’t feel the pressure to write our own songs, although we did enjoy doing so at times. The guys would come over pretty much weekly and we’d run through our favorite songs: “Rearviewmirror,” “Them Bones,” “I Alone,” “Wax Ecstatic,” the list goes on. My drumming developed a great deal during the years I played with those gentlemen. We have a musical connection that is still felt whenever the rare opportunity comes to play together. I think those who saw me mess up in the jazz band would be impressed by my improvement.

At that point, I had stopped taking lessons and the drums became only something I wanted to do, not something I ever had to do. It became a release for me. When sad. When upset. When energetic. When aggressive. When really happy.

Since coming to Cornell, I’ve jammed with Steve Chong and a number of other people. Steve and I were even in a jazz ensemble that was developing nicely until most of the people left the university. It seems my next musical endeavor is to be joining the band Dexter plays in. It seems I might finally get to live out my lifelong dream of playing in a rock band at a party or bar in front of people.

I am by no means a professional drummer. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t want to be, as it would make drumming something I had to do. For now, I’m quite content coming home in the evening, putting my iPod on my belt and my headphones in my ears, and playing along to my favorite songs. I get lost in it for five minutes or ten minutes or an hour–whatever I am feeling at the moment. When I nail a particularly interesting part, I scream “Yeaaaaaaaaaaah!” as I continue to play. If I cut myself, I simply bleed on the drums and finish the song. Drumming for me truly is a way of life.

For those who are interested, I’ve posted a few songs, although I make no claims to their quality:

• Nothing Up Your Sleeve (3.72 MB) with Steve
• You Wanna Believe In Something (3.76MB) with Steve
• That Funky Pedal Thing (7.46 MB) improv with BNG, Lee, and Matt
• The Roman Candle (3.67 MB) with BNG

For those even more interested, here are a current picture and schematic diagram of my drumset, too.

Drums: Premier (except where noted) 6″ Remo Rototom 8″ Remo Rototom 10″ Remo Rototom 12″ x 14″ Tom 5.5″ x 14″ Tama Starclassic Snare Drum 6″ x 10″ Soprano Snare Drum 9″ x 10″ Tom 10″ x 12″ Tom 14″ x 16″ Tom 16″ x 22″ Bass Drum

Cymbals: Sabian 20″ AA Chinese 14″ AAX Stage Hats 17″ HHX Evolution Crash 8″ AAX Splash 16″ AAX Stage Crash 20″ AAX Metal Ride 20″ HHX Evolution Ride Auxiliary Percussion: Latin Percussion Cowbell Jam Block Tambourine (not pictured)

A couple weekends ago, I got to do something I haven’t done in a long while: play music in front of people. In this case, it was playing the background music for the First Congregational Church musical production “Daniel” with Dexter. Actually, we did the show at Dexter’s church a month or so ago, before this writing outlet even existed for me. The second time we did the show was at the First Presbyterian Church in Trumansburg.

The last time I got to play music in front of people was doing some quiet jazz with Matt at a frat where a bunch of stuffy rich white boys walked around with their proud fathers drinking and laughing. At that show, we were paid in beer, which I don’t drink. But that past show is not what is important here.

Playing in “Daniel” came about when Dexter asked me five days before the show if I’d be willing to do it, as their drummer had pulled out at the last minute. The prospect of playing music in front of people again excited me a great deal and so I agreed. The thought also made me a bit nervous. While the jazz show with Matt went all right, it wasn’t exactly done at a volume at which mistakes could be noticed, and I made plenty of mistakes. This show was a bit different as my playing not only affected the other musicians, but the twenty or thirty kids singing, dancing, and acting.

In my favor, I suppose, was that there was no actual drum part written, so I could improv it. At the first rehearsal, I realized that sixteen years of playing drums and percussion has given the hands and feet an ability to just know what to play. My brain didn’t need to send signals actively, most of the time. The right foot naturally locked into Dexter’s bass playing. The hands knew which notes to accent in order to complement Bill’s piano. I really felt like a drummer. We were the “Babylon Band.”

Bill wrote all the songs for the show and I have to say he did an amazing job. The songs were catchy and upbeat, with swing, 50s rock, and ballads. The kids seemed to have a blast doing the show and I think the parents and attendees enjoyed it, too. I find the songs running through my head at times, in particular, a lovely little ditty with a bunch of young children dressed up as lions singing, “Munch, munch, where’s our lunch? Crunch, crunch, thanks a bunch!”

Watching the kids react to my drumming reminded me of my days in the show South Pacific when I was 10. It was that show that was partially responsible for cultivating my interest in drumming. During breaks in rehearsal, I would go up to the orchestra pit (yes, the pit was above the stage) and bang around on the drums and have a grand ol’ time. During rehearsal for “Daniel,” I noticed a few of the kids smiling and air drumming as they walked passed me. That made me smile. It seems the drums are just an instrument that draws people in. I mean, who doesn’t want to beat something with sticks?

It all makes me think that I could be interested in teaching drum lessons someday. However, I’m not sure I have the technique and ability necessary to do so. What I do know is that I am definitely a drummer for life.

One of the benefits of being a graduate student is the opportunity to travel abroad for conferences. I’ve spent the last week in Bremen, Germany at MKM 2005 presenting a paper Terese and I wrote, A Proof-Theoretic Approach to Hierarchical Math Library Organization. Not only did going to the conference afford me the chance to have another paper published, but it also gave me the unexpected and very exciting chance to see Terese again. You can see some pictures from the trip.

I had a really nice single-serving friend from Ithaca to Philadelphia in the form of Dr. Kate Whitlock, a professor at Cornell in Genetics. She was off to a conference in Germany, too, so we got to sit in the terminal in Philadelphia and chat for a bit. The flight to Germany itself seemed quite short, given that my last two international flights were to Kazakhstan and New Zealand, the latter of which included a 40-hour voyage to find my way to Wellington. An 8-hour flight? Fourteen hours in transit total? Nothing! On the flight to Germany, I had two seats to myself, meaning I could sleep comfortably. Of course, I fell asleep just in time to wake up for breakfast.

One of my worries on the trip over was customs. I hate dealing with customs and immigration and find it to be a bit stressful. However, passport control in Germany was unbelievably easy. No “what are you doing here?,” “how long will you be here?,” “can I see your return ticket?,” or “have you ever lived in Texas?” I was through customs in Frankfurt and at my gate to get on my plane to Bremen in less than half an hour. That was reassuring, as Terese was quite worried her 50-minute layover in Amsterdam would not be enough to get through customs and catch her connecting flight.

Upon arriving in Bremen, I took the tram and the train to the university. For the first time in the trip, I got to play the “I’m just a stupid American” card. Apparently, one needs to have the train ticket stamped in a little machine before getting on the train to ensure one is only using the ticket once. I was not aware of this fact and sat on the train to be on my merry way. When the woman came to check my ticket and said, “Das tickethausen nein stampened,” I simply said, “Huh? I don’t speak German.” I’m normally not a fan of coming across as incompetent and stupid, but when I get into such a situation in a foreign country, it seems like a perfectly legitimate way to get through without much trouble. Americans are all trouble anyways, aren’t we?

I made the long walk to the university from the train station and got my room ticket. MKM decided to put us up in the dorm rooms. The room was extremely bare and there was no soap nor shampoo for me to use. I was sharing a bathroom with another person, apparently spending the summer at the university, so I partook of his cleaning products…I hope he doesn’t mind. On the positive side, the room had internet in it, meaning I could keep up with the world and keep in touch with Dexter about the paper we were writing with a July 18th deadline.

After a brief nap, I went back to the airport to pick up Terese. I was happy to be able to have already done the trip so she wouldn’t have to worry about figuring out the train schedule and such. Having been more than three months since I had seen her, I was looking forward to catching that first glimpse of her as she got off the plane. From the observation deck, I saw her walk off of KLM flight 1757 and into the terminal. (I was glad to see she was in fact able to make her connection.) Smiles when our eyes found each other again for the first time in a time that was simultaneously nothing and forever.

The first order of business at the conference was the workshop. It was all about the SESAME project, some huge research grant proposal by most of the people at the workshop. As a result, Terese and I felt very out of place, as we had nothing to do with the proposal. Apparently, we shouldn’t have technically been there, but they didn’t mention the topic of the workshop until after we had registered for it. Luckily, Terese’s father and brother Daniel were coming to visit her, since this was the closest she had been to home in nearly a year. We skipped out on the afternoon sessions and went to Vegesack with them to have a drink, eat some ice cream, and walk around a bit. It was nice to see and chat with her father again, as I last saw him when Terese and I went to New York City in the fall. It turns out that he is quite the successful online poker player, so we chatted about that a bit among other things.

On Friday, I had to present our paper. We were the first to present. Being first can be nice because it means the presentation is over quickly, but it also can be slightly overwhelming, as I have never been to the conference before and I had no idea if there were “standards” I would have to meet. I never have found public speaking to be frightening, as I figure any excuse to make people listen to me for half an hour can’t be bad. Talks of this nature only make me worry that I could be exposed as a fraud, not really knowing what I’m talking about. Question sessions can be difficult because one does not know what to expect and gaps in theoretical background can put the person asking the question and the person answering on different levels making it hard to communicate. There is also the strong fear of discovering that someone else has already done the same work and I simply missed it when looking for related research. Apparently, there is some work done in the area of the paper we wrote and I need to explore it a bit further to find out if the things we are doing truly are unique.

The conference provided a variety of moments. Academics seem to be either really good or really bad at speaking. The good ones are obviously prepared, stay within the allotted time, and are dynamic and exciting. The bad ones don’t seem very interested in their own work, are obviously not well rehearsed (running over 10+ minutes), and sometimes even read straight from the paper. However, a number of the papers were interesting. Our hosts Michael and Andrea Kohlhase discussed the space of knowledge. Serge Autexier, whom I first met at LPAR in Kazakhstan two years ago, presented a great paper on a data structure for representing proof attempts. It gave me several ideas for my own work that I am eager to explore. There were also a number of memorable quotes:

• “They believe it after talking to me for awhile.”: A presenter in Physics in response to a question about his belief on the basic unit of knowledge in his field
• “Great people, but irrelevant.”: Describing the SESAME proposal in the eyes of the “Eurocrats” who reviewed it
• “This is not a sexy area for undergraduate teaching.”: Referring to mathematical knowledge management.
• “I don’t remember what the acronym stands for.”: Referring to SESAME, which stands for “Semantic Structure for Managing Mathematical Knowledge“
• “It is dangerous, but it works.”: A presenter describing some hacks he made to a system
• “I think we’re moving into philosophy.”: Trying to stop a conversation on the value of 1/0
• “So 0-1 = 0?”: Discussing Isabelle’s list representations
• “Well anyway, you have to believe me.”: A presenter, when her demo crashed

After the conference was over, Terese and I spent a couple extra days in Bremen. We moved to the Inn Side Residence-Hotel at the Space Park. I’m still not exactly sure what the Space Park is, although it did have a large building with a movie theater and a rocket. The room was nice and, unlike the dorms at the conference, did not require us to move furniture. Out the window was a river and plenty of windmills. It is the first time I’ve seen windmills and they are pretty darn nifty. There is something peaceful and graceful about the way they move.

We certainly took full advantage of our time together in Bremen. The first day was spent mostly relaxing, including dinner at a Greek restaurant with some of the best meat I have had in my entire life. The moon came out to say hello to us while we were back in our room, bright and unavoidable. I said a few words to she who watches over.

On the second day, we went into downtown Bremen and walked around and shopped. I’m normally not a shopper or browser, but I very much enjoy shopping with Terese. We went to a few clothing stores such as H & M, which do not exist in Japan. Some time ago, Terese had expressed an interest in finding some clothes for me and for the first time, and after shopping there, I think it could be fun to do the same for her. She’s already had a positive influence on my fashion sense, as my pants are now actually long enough (and more comfortable as a result). The next time we see each other, we shall have to go shopping and perhaps force our tastes on each other.

On the way back to our hotel, we stopped at an Aldi to get some food, thinking we’d have a simple dinner consisting mostly of fruit. However, upon arrival at the hotel, we decided that a nice dinner in their restaurant would be better. It was a good choice, as we got to eat outside and have some excellent fish. After dinner, we went back to the room and stayed up most of the night, enjoying the little time and lots of food we had left.

The next day, our taxi picked us up at 6:50am to go to the airport. My flight left at 8:25 and Terese’s at 11:35. Our time in the airport was sad, as it always has been, trying to hold on to those last few precious moments. Despite the fact that our time together was short, despite the fact that we were leaving, despite the fact that we would not see each other again for some time, we still smiled uncontrollably. Leaving each other is certainly sad, but the sadness is accompanied by the joy of time spent together. When the time came, I went to my gate and left Terese to wait for her flight back to Japan. As the plane was pushed back from the gate, I could see her on the observation deck. I said my last good byes and shed a few tears as the Boeing 737-300 left the ground.

My trip home was relatively uneventful. I got through German departure passport control with no problems, although my laptop was subject to a special search and there was a guy with a very large gun in the terminal, which I found rather scary. From Frankfurt to Philadelphia, I was able to sleep half of the way. I was sitting next to three gentlemen who looked very much like they should be in a band together. Maybe my judgement was based on stereotypes, but they had some cool tattoos, were enjoying listening to music, and bought and consumed a large amount of Jack Daniels. I couldn’t resist and I asked the one sitting next to me if they were in a band. As it turns out, they are Playing Enemy, a group on Escape Artist Records returning from a tour in Europe. I listened to some samples on their webpage and they are a little loud and chaotic for my tastes, but they still seemed like cool guys.

Philadelphia immigration and customs proved to be the easiest I have ever gone through in the United States. It took nearly no time at all and they didn’t ask any strange questions. My flight to Ithaca was delayed two hours due to air traffic congestion. Apparently, this is quite a normal problem in the area. When we finally did get on the plane, the pilot said we’d be very lucky if we took off in an hour. It took an hour and a half of taxing and waiting our turn in line. The airport was complete chaos, with planes facing every direction to get to the single runway being used for departure. We eventually made it to Ithaca, three hours later than scheduled. My luggage, on the other hand, arrived two hours later than I did. How my luggage was not able to get from customs to the plane in over two hours is beyond me.

On the plane, I saw a rainbow below. For a time, it seemed to follow behind our plane like a pet. Shortly before we landed, I enjoyed the sunset out the left window and the moon out the right. It was as though the plane served as a conduit between which the two were speaking to each other. In that moment, I said a few more words and thank yous for the opportunity presented to me.

Overall, I’d say this trip could not have gone any better. My work was actually interesting to some people in the community. I unexpectedly got to see she whose influence and impact in my life is deep and unmistakable. I am truly lucky these days.

I often get deer and other creatures around my house. Today seems to have been a day of more encounters than usual. This morning, I went to the office around 6:45. As I was walking passed Rhodes Hall, a deer came out from behind the building not eight feet away from me. I stopped and looked at her and said hello, and she did the same. We looked at each other for a few seconds, then turned and continued to go our separate ways. I made sure to wish her a good day.

This evening, a doe walked into my yard, sat down in the bushes, and brought along this little friend:

I rarely get to see the young ones in my yard, so I very much enjoy it when they come around. They tend to be energetic and a little clumsy, following their mothers around for guidance. A couple years ago, I watched three fawns grow up, as they frequented my yard with their parents (sometimes up to eight deer in the yard at once).

It’s times like these that I’m sure I made the right choice coming to Cornell instead of going to UPenn. I very much doubt I would have had the enjoyment of watching nature from my kitchen in the mornings and evenings in the large city. It’s something I doubt I could ever want to give up. There is something refreshing and tranquil about seeing uncaged animals freely exploring the world around them.

At the suggestion of a few of my friends, I joined the IAUA Ultimate Frisbee Summer League. It has been an interesting experience, quite different from what I expected. I’ve played pickup games within the CS department for the last few years. These games tend to be rather low-stress and lack much in the way of organization.

I figured summer league would be relatively similar, with the only addition being a need to keep accurate score. I thought that my skills would be comparable to the rest of the people playing. Oh, was I ever wrong. Most of the people on my team have at least five years of competitive experience. They use words like “poach” and “no strike,” which to me would mean hunting illegally and deciding that the work contract is actually fair enough. They organize everyone in a stack on the field (although technically, it is a queue). They can throw the frisbee in at least three different ways.

I spent the first practice feeling rather clumsy and inadequate, as I just barely understood what was going on and my throws were not exactly world-class. I do remember a time when I was the 5th-best frisbee thrower back in elementary school, but those days are long gone. Others were offering suggestions on everything from how I was standing to how I was gripping the frisbee. I’m not used to feeling that incompetent or out of my element. I left the first practice not sure it was going to be as fun as I thought and thinking that if I didn’t enjoy it, I could always not go.

Our first game happened the next day. Although I still had moments of feeling incompetent, I enjoyed playing and cheering on my team immensely. I even managed to catch the frisbee in the end zone for a score. It was at that game I realized I shouldn’t get to feeling too discouraged and should instead look at this as an opportunity. These people obviously know more about frisbee than I do. I should take the advice of my teammates to heart and really try to listen to what they have to say so I can benefit from their experience. I have the chance to challenge myself to do something I haven’t done before.

I’m as big a music fan as the next person. And I certainly enjoy some hip hop. What I don’t enjoy is people having a party outside at 12:30am with rap blasting. You know your music is too loud if I can hear it inside my house 0.4 miles away with my air conditioner and dehumidifier running, with music playing to fall asleep (The Cardigans — the only CD I’ve fallen asleep to for eight years), and the tinnitus in my right ear.

So what is one to do in such a case? Get dressed, walk to the party, and tell them to turn the music down, of course! This may seem like a pretty lame thing to do, but I take great pleasure in it for some reason. I had to do it once two years ago with the same people. There is just something very amusing about going to a bunch of 18-20 year olds and saying, “Excuse me, do you know who is in charge of the music. Because I live in a house beyond those trees and I can hear your music as I try to sleep, so you need to turn it down.” Then when the slightly intoxicated Ithaca College student says “I don’t know,” I say, “Well, it needs to be turned down or I am calling the police.”

At that point, the people trying to find someone to turn down the music start calling me “sir,” which is hilarious, as I am only a few years older than them. In their voice is the, “oh no, he can’t call the cops because if he does I’ll get in trouble for underage drinking and my parents would kill me.” So inevitably the music gets turned down and I walk away laughing, disappearing into the darkness as I hear voices murmur about “some random guy from up the street.”

You know, I look forward to the days of being an old man talking about how I had to go uphill both ways in the snow to get to school back in aught four.

When this “blogging” phenomenon first hit the internet, I told myself I had no reason to make a weblog. I thought it seemed kind of pointless for me. My life isn’t so important as to warrant my rambling on about it in print. I don’t want to post extremely personal stuff about my life. Anything I do want to talk about, I tell people anyway, as is usually my tendency. But still, I have pondered it off and on for the past year or so. Then yesterday, I had the following conversation with Chethan:

12:36:19 PM chetpan: yeah, you should describe your trip, like say, in an online journal of some sort
12:36:20 PM chetpan: ahem
12:36:23 PM chetpan: start a journal!
12:38:20 PM manof1000ages: You know, I’ve considered it from time to time. But here’s the way I look at it: Either I’d put personal stuff on there that I wouldn’t want everyone to see, which would be bad, or, I’d put generic stuff that I’d just tell people anyway.
…
12:39:40 PM manof1000ages: I’m just not sure I have anything important enough to say:)
12:40:08 PM chetpan: well, give it a shot, and if it’s too boring i’ll tell you to stop
12:40:22 PM chetpan: but at least this way people can keep track of you even when you/they are busy
12:40:35 PM manof1000ages: Well, perhaps I shall try, just for you.
12:40:45 PM chetpan: sweet. i win!

And with that starts Kamal’s online journal. You can still access my pictures from the link on the right. We’ll see how this goes for awhile and if I actually have interesting things to say that people want to read. If not, remember to blame Chethan.