For the majority of people who do not work with computers or in close proximity to computers, the words “data structure” are probably somewhat meaningless, if not at least confusing. Adding the word “stack” in front of those words likely only further obfuscates the problem.
Like in any language, words that do not tangibly relate to something concrete in daily life often tend to mean absolutely nothing to those hearing or reading them. …
The last week.
The last week, in which I published: nothing.
It’s depressing to think about that, as I originally set out to write for thirty days straight.
What happened, you ask?
(You may not ask; you may not be surprised at all. After all, that is so very human nature.)
The cause of my sudden writing crash was not what I originally expected it to be, nor was it what I concluded it to be after deep thought.
Was it laziness? No; I was learning Python, reading “Flow,” practicing violin, going for 2+ mile walks every day.
I am not a zombie fan.
In fact, for most of my existence, I have struggled to understand why people find zombies interesting and why there are shows that have anything to do with zombies.
You see, I am fighting a zombie apocalypse of astronomical proportions every single day.
At this point, you’re probably thinking “This guy is totally off his rocker.”
Very valid question.
I am not.
Think fish swimming upstream.
Against the current.
The water is the zombie apocalypse.
You are the fish.
Except with zombies, it’s a lot more violent. Which is probably accurate in…
Unless it’s your dream job to sip margaritas on a beach somewhere far away from the colder climes of the world, you will inevitably find yourself waking up one morning to faint inner pangs of reticence. These feelings, of course, are directed toward leaving the warmth, comfort, and familiarity of your home to go to work.
And when you do, depending on who you are and your current situation, your mind may begin to wander a bit.
“Did I pick the right career?”
“I hate my job.”
“I’m stuck in life.”
“I have no options.”
“I have to work or…
Every morning, usually just after 5 AM, you can find me in my kitchen, carefully measuring out 22 grams of coffee, ground in my Encore Baratza grinder the night before (so as not to wake the kids in the early morning), and placing it into my Hario V60 drip brewer.
I have a kettle with a thermostat on the top that I watch carefully to achieve just over 190 degrees before pouring it gently, creating a magnificent bloom in the coffee grounds.
With all that’s going on in the world around me, my mind wanders through the recorded events of…
The other night, my daughter was complaining about how the coronavirus was changing everything in her life.
“No more playdates.”
“No more co-op program for school.”
“We never leave the house anymore.”
I explained again to her the reason why all these changes were taking place, but she was not to be placated.
Finally, I found myself quoting Heraclitus: “You know, change is the only constant in life.”
This was met with a blank stare. I should’ve known better.
But these feelings of animosity toward change are not confined to an 8-year-old child.
Just the other day, I’m standing at…
If there’s one thing that seems to happen more frequently in the world of writing, perhaps more than in any other field or pursuit — it is the copious amount of meta-writing that takes place.
Writing about writing.
But perhaps that is simply an illusion; since when we read we are ingesting the product of writing and it seems to be more synchronized than it really is.
If I wrote, for example, about the violin, or about practicing the violin, it is a separate action to write about practicing the violin than it is to practice the violin. Obviously.
They say when you choose to write every day, even if only for a finite amount of time, that you will eventually hit a wall.
Well, it’s happening.
Looking back on the ten or so days that I’ve written so far, I see a number of things, not all of which I’m proud of, but I am mostly proud so far of the fact that I haven’t missed a day yet, and I am sitting down writing again tonight, despite the fact that a) I planned to do my writing in the morning, and b) I am staring at a…
Recently, my wife, kids, and I moved to a seven-acre plot of land out in the middle of nowhere.
We are surrounded by farmland and over an hour from the nearest metropolis. It’s quiet, it’s calming, and it’s invigorating in many ways.
Of course, there are some downsides to living so far out, especially for someone who loves bustling cities, admiring skylines, riding metros, frequenting cafés, or relaxing with a glass of wine at a bistro on the sidewalk long after the sun has set.
That being said, the country life is not new to me; I grew up on…
If we stop to think about it, the attempt to determine a reason for our existence can be a depressing thought path.
For myself, it can often lead to discouraging thoughts about how I haven’t accomplished enough or am behind where I wanted to be at this point in my life.
After a decade of trying different things, I struggle with feeling that it’s no longer worth my effort to keep trying to improve on what I do. That I should simply resign myself to being a cog in the ever-turning wheel of capitalism.
I think “I will never be…
I write to capture glimpses of humanity and its endless beauty.