All numbers are imaginary, real numbers are just a particular type of imaginary number.
FWTW.
Jayne ,'Jaynestown'
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
All numbers are imaginary, real numbers are just a particular type of imaginary number.
FWTW.
Oh Jessica, my sister in twohood! Grace hits herself in the head, a lot. And part of this is a stim thing, but some of it isn't. She looks at whichever adult is there and gives them this look like, "What?"
Sigh.
Barren? Who says barren? Someone get me a Brit. Do Brits still say 'barren'?
This came up in a comedy show here last night (Good News Week). One contestant was arguing for the return of words like 'barren' and 'spinster'.
Woot! Down with letter-appropriating imaginary "numbers"!
Imaginary numbers didn't exactly start this. e is perfectly real, for instance.
I read (in that article?) that Deborah Rowe is living in the country surrounded by animals. Horse people sometimes still talk about a "barren mare" - I wonder if that's why she used that term?
Ugh. I just woke up from a mid-afternoon nap, and I'm feeling all gronkified, like I was just clubbed over my head and am slightly dazed. Ugh.
My cat nearly had me going when I came home early from work. I came in the apartment door, and was not greeted by her, which I understood due to my only being gone a few hours. But, she didn't show while I was putting away some groceries, and she didn't show while I was getting changed, and she wasn't under the bed or anywhere in any of the other rooms in the house. So, I'm running around, all panicked that somehow she had slipped out of the apartment when I left for the day, putting my shoes back on and getting ready to run downstairs to go around the building and complex to look for her, when it occurred to me to look one more time in the further depths of the bedroom closet. I poke my head deep in and hear this very faint "Mrroww?" Little shit was comfy as hell in the exact center of my long closet.
Haha! Loki did that to me several times, except I had no idea where he'd gone to. After I'd searched the basement, first floor and second floor a couple times, he'd just appear sleepily blinking at the top of the stairs. I mean, I'd even checked all the pillows and duvet (he likes to crawl into both and crash out.) I finally caught him sleeping on a shelf behind the clothes hanging in my big closet.
Neatorama sez:
The DM of the Rings is a webcomic by Shamus Young which imagines the characters of The Lord of the Rings movies as players in a Dungeons and Dragons campaign who consistently refuse to stay in-character.
When I moved back into my mom's house, my kitty at the time dug some sort of hole and crawled up into her boxspring to sleep. He was impossible to find!
I think I'll mark today off in the "win" column as the last day of my vacation. I finally slept in, bought delicious locally-grown tomatoes and blackberries at a nursery, got some light cleaning and a couple loads of laundry done, spent much of the afternoon poolside (I'd forgotten that the community center has a public pool in the summer, much cheaper than the YMCA), and am heading out for sushi in a little while. Now if the moderately hot pilot who's been asking me when we'd meet up can get his act together later tonight, it'll be just about perfect.
Many, many hairpats (and drinks if necessary) to Jessica and Kat. Two is amazingly delightful, except when it isn't, and when it isn't it isn't with a vengeance.
Matilda is possibly showing signs of three, or signs of something anyway. This morning she woke up and started meowing. When Hec and I went into the bedroom, she explained earnestly that she was a kittycat, and continued to meow (occasionally adding, "MIIIIIIILK!" just for variety) for nearly ten minutes while we exclaimed over her tail and whiskers. When I tried to grab one foot to kiss it and said, "Give me that foot," she pulled it away and informed me sternly, "That's my PAW, Mommy." We also have to filk "What's New, Pussycat?" endlessly for her. "Love you, Kittycat, meow-ow-ow," etc. And last night when she had a full diaper, she asked me to clean her kitty butt.
That's the news from the far side of two. I think billytea owes us an update from the other end of the infant spectrum.