Day One

I got lost.

Terribly lost, dizzyingly lost, as I drove to my very first day of Codeup’s programming class.

At this point, I know what you are thinking.

“Haven’t you been there before?”

Answer: Yes.

“Haven’t you been there several times before?”

Answer: Also… Yes.

“So….?”

So my terrible sense of direction coupled with near crippling excitement and anxiety combined to create a spectacular fail on the highway.

I missed my exit… by a long shot.

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Toward The Sun, Rising

The tidal splash of sound caused my heart to leap every time. My ears would drink the harmonies like a desert landscape absorbing the inundating monsoon rains.

With a deep breath I would prepare to add my fanfare to the glittering orchestration, but in truth I really just wanted to sit back and listen.

I just wanted to let the waves of music lift my heart from its doldrums, up and up.

Music can do this.

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The Winter Of Her Life

The ancient calico with the dusty grey feet slept atop what can only be described as a heap of forgotten junk.  The reek of motor oil and the stale warehouse air burned my eyes to tears, yet the wizened creature was the center point of my blurred vision and my heart skipped a beat as it always does at the sight of a cat.

The admonishments of the wiry woman with the smoker’s cough about the folly of leaving old gasoline in a lawnmower faded to a distant rumble on the razor’s edge of my cognitive horizon.  The crone of a calico had captivated me “body and soul.”

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Beating the Bootstrap Blues!

The trees were naked.  The grass brown as beached, dried seaweed.  The air held a bone chill and blew ice cold.  Back in late February/early March when I first encountered Twitter Bootstrap, these were the conditions outside my bedroom window.  I turned from the wintry, oppressed scene outside.  I faced my computer, fired up google and typed “What is Twitter Bootstrap?”

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Clean Code: Chapter 1

Cleanliness is next to Godliness.”

Today, despite the trepidation, a small smile broke over my lips when I saw the email.

The message was brief but exciting, heralding the official start of the Programmer’s Book Club!

I voiced my interest in the bookclub at the end of the Web Developers Meetup Group that I attended last Thursday (See A Sangha For Soun-Ja) and today I received my official invitation to join in.

The date is set.  Our inaugural meeting will be Thursday April 30th from 6pm -7pm.  Earlier, a vote was conducted to determine the book we will read.

The winner is: Clean Code by Robert Martin.  I have a pdf of the book already downloaded and ready to go.  According to the email, we are to have the first three chapters read and ready to discuss for our first meeting.

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A Sangha For Soun-Ja

“Sangham saranam gacchami

Dutiyampi, Sangham saranam gacchami

Tatiyampi, Sangham saranam gacchami”

When my car broke down back in 2008, I did not recognize the event as the catalyst of my journey toward enlightenment.  It simply struck me as an inconvenience.  My Dad provided the jump and implored me to “drive around awhile” or the car would not start again once I turned it off.

So I drove aimlessly… and discovered a Theravada Buddhist temple about 7 min from my house.

This post is not about Buddhism, though I did eventually convert.  Instead this post is about a word I learned under the compassionate tutelage of the resident Thai Buddhist monks.

This post is about the importance of finding a Sangha.

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Two Down … 509 To Go!

“Euler calculated without apparent effort, as men breathe, or as eagles sustain themselves in the wind.” ~ François Arago

The only sound apparent was the silvery, creek-like trickle of the fish tank.

And of course the scratch of graphite on paper, the rubbery pass of the eraser, the occasional puff of breath clearing the work area, and the rapid tap of keyboard keys.

I began again.

0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34…

Do you recognize this sequence of numbers?

Your eye knows and loves them well, even if your brain is drawing a blank.

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If You Build It

All things are mercurial, leaving one to feel adrift.  Subject to the whims of a capricious cosmos, we each dig our makeshift trenches, erecting defenses against the vexing volatility of the universe.

My fortification against this inconstant world is information.

I am the type of person that reads everything, all the time, everywhere. Border-lining on the compulsive, my constant acquisition of data feels like a fortress between me and the persistent winds of constant change.

My thinking is, if I can just know enough, I will be prepared for any eventuality.  I will not be sucker-punched by the gods.

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