soduku fighting
Most of my day, my brain is filled with complex math equations that relate to social constructs that I encounter everyday. For example; How much time would it take before the average person lost their cool based on the behavior and/or conditioning of another average person? The elements involved with this equation are staggering and yummy. For those of you with complex minds, these kinds of math are heroin. Imagine, this is a small list of the variables involved with this equation; temperature, diet, social/family background, physiology, time, place, morality, ethics, self-awareness... the list is endless and I love it.
So it would stand to reason that a math puzzle designed for public consumption would be right up my alley. Sometimes a little diversion can be a good thing, however, sometimes, math can be the ulcer and the headache that ruin the concert. It's a delicate balance, be cautious.
For the past few years, a quiet little secret has been growing in the world of crossword/word scramble aficionados. It's a curious little game that the Japanese invented called, Sodoku. If you haven't seen it, I shall try to explain: It's nine boxes that are stacked in a 3X3 formation. Each of these nine boxes is broken up into nine boxes. Again, in a 3X3 formation. The look of the puzzle is like graph paper. Nine spaces across, nine spaces down, all in a grid. Scattered on the grid are a few numbers in no particular order. The object of this game is simple. Put the numbers 1 through 9 into the boxes so that for every row in the puzzle the numbers do not repeat either across or down. AND the numbers can not repeat with in the 3X3 boxes. If I have done a bad job of explaining this, look it up.
I just saw a soduku a few weeks ago and I am overwhelmed. The soduku, along with a daily crossword, is swallowing up my writing time. I am addicted and you all can fuck right off. I love these little things and I can't believe that I am so lost in heaven with them. I'm sure if you pick up the habit, you'll stop reading this blog. (If the last post didn't already convince you to do so).
Sadly, the time I spend on these little sodoku puzzles is cutting into my "find furniture and my money" time. The former is pretty simple - read ads, call people, go look at it and if it's worth owning, pay for it, try to find a way to pick it up and get it home. The latter is a bit harder. I have money in Canada and it sits there making me money so I can have more Canadian money. Which is a good idea and I think Canada should be proud of this program. But what's this program for? Because you can never have too much Canadian money, ask the Canadians, they will tell you that. It seems that no matter how much Canadian money you have - either in hand or in the bank - you still don't feel like you have all that much. It's a very odd feeling.
I knew I was moving so I transferred a Canadian money market account into my main account for liquidation. I then transferred the money into American coin and had it wired to me in America. The money never made it. Two weeks went by with no accounting for the lost 4 G's. I was furious and broke and neither one of these will get you much needed furniture and food.
So the balancing act of finding FREE furniture that was both clean, functional, and appealing began. The search fell into a narrow field of possibility so my time and temper really began to be stretched. I have no truck, I need to be able to grab whatever comes available because it's a seller's market right now. I have to rent a truck from U-haul, which charges by the mile as well as the day. It takes two hours to get a truck. I just changed phone numbers, I don't know my address by heart or where I am in conjunction to the free furniture. By the time I show up in my car, the dresser has been gone for two hours. The times that I arrive to see the actual items, the pieces are so bad that crackheads wouldn't have it in their house. I need to budget my money, so I just can't throw caution to the wind and pick up the couch if I need to eat and pay rent, again. I can't believe how they hound you for that.
I don't live in the safest part of the city and hopefully that will deter people from coming to visit. There is nothing but on-street parking and I live across the street from a diversion program. (that's where the court sends drug related offenders instead of prison) so most of the day there are shady meth-heads and other assorted junkies hovering around the front of my building in little groups, plotting and fighting withdrawls and comparing missing teeth. The night time sees the influx of white, odd shaped, dirty meth hookers and their slick black or Asian pimps running around the front of the building. The quality of the "johns" can't be all that great. The main neighborhood demographic is drunks that are just getting out of the drunk tank at the country jail which is four blocks down the street. (yes, I love it here)
It's this knowledge that is making it difficult to get people to "deliver" to my area. Even the cable guy wouldn't come to this area because he didn't want people to steal stuff off his truck.
I have needs but they conflict with the rules of the game. No two numbers can appear in the same row across or down. No number can repeat within the smaller boxes of 3X3. In order to get the furniture, I need to find the money, then the furniture, then the food. Then I need the internet, and the rent, so I can then lock the door behind me, stare at that volcano, tap away at these little keys and become a writing legend. (odds 3:7)
To solve my silverware dilemma, I have decided to take one set of silverware from each restaurant I eat at for the next few days. When I have five sets, I will quit. If you would like to help out, send money or decent photos of yourselves for a wall mural of my readers that I would like to stare at. It would make writing these a little easier when I knew what you all looked like. This does require you check my website for the new address. While you're at it, check out the links page. I will try to have a sodoku link. Not that any of you clicked on the link for the maze puzzle. OH, by the way, all your guesses were wrong on where I moved too, but good guesses, wrong town though.
I WILL SAY THIS CLEARLY: YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO VISIT ME WITHOUT ASKING FIRST. IF YOU TRY, YOU WILL SIT IN THE STREET AND I WILL WATCH THE OOMPA-LOOMPAS EAT YOU ALIVE. YOUR SCREAMS SHALL ONLY LULL ME TO SLEEP.
So it would stand to reason that a math puzzle designed for public consumption would be right up my alley. Sometimes a little diversion can be a good thing, however, sometimes, math can be the ulcer and the headache that ruin the concert. It's a delicate balance, be cautious.
For the past few years, a quiet little secret has been growing in the world of crossword/word scramble aficionados. It's a curious little game that the Japanese invented called, Sodoku. If you haven't seen it, I shall try to explain: It's nine boxes that are stacked in a 3X3 formation. Each of these nine boxes is broken up into nine boxes. Again, in a 3X3 formation. The look of the puzzle is like graph paper. Nine spaces across, nine spaces down, all in a grid. Scattered on the grid are a few numbers in no particular order. The object of this game is simple. Put the numbers 1 through 9 into the boxes so that for every row in the puzzle the numbers do not repeat either across or down. AND the numbers can not repeat with in the 3X3 boxes. If I have done a bad job of explaining this, look it up.
I just saw a soduku a few weeks ago and I am overwhelmed. The soduku, along with a daily crossword, is swallowing up my writing time. I am addicted and you all can fuck right off. I love these little things and I can't believe that I am so lost in heaven with them. I'm sure if you pick up the habit, you'll stop reading this blog. (If the last post didn't already convince you to do so).
Sadly, the time I spend on these little sodoku puzzles is cutting into my "find furniture and my money" time. The former is pretty simple - read ads, call people, go look at it and if it's worth owning, pay for it, try to find a way to pick it up and get it home. The latter is a bit harder. I have money in Canada and it sits there making me money so I can have more Canadian money. Which is a good idea and I think Canada should be proud of this program. But what's this program for? Because you can never have too much Canadian money, ask the Canadians, they will tell you that. It seems that no matter how much Canadian money you have - either in hand or in the bank - you still don't feel like you have all that much. It's a very odd feeling.
I knew I was moving so I transferred a Canadian money market account into my main account for liquidation. I then transferred the money into American coin and had it wired to me in America. The money never made it. Two weeks went by with no accounting for the lost 4 G's. I was furious and broke and neither one of these will get you much needed furniture and food.
So the balancing act of finding FREE furniture that was both clean, functional, and appealing began. The search fell into a narrow field of possibility so my time and temper really began to be stretched. I have no truck, I need to be able to grab whatever comes available because it's a seller's market right now. I have to rent a truck from U-haul, which charges by the mile as well as the day. It takes two hours to get a truck. I just changed phone numbers, I don't know my address by heart or where I am in conjunction to the free furniture. By the time I show up in my car, the dresser has been gone for two hours. The times that I arrive to see the actual items, the pieces are so bad that crackheads wouldn't have it in their house. I need to budget my money, so I just can't throw caution to the wind and pick up the couch if I need to eat and pay rent, again. I can't believe how they hound you for that.
I don't live in the safest part of the city and hopefully that will deter people from coming to visit. There is nothing but on-street parking and I live across the street from a diversion program. (that's where the court sends drug related offenders instead of prison) so most of the day there are shady meth-heads and other assorted junkies hovering around the front of my building in little groups, plotting and fighting withdrawls and comparing missing teeth. The night time sees the influx of white, odd shaped, dirty meth hookers and their slick black or Asian pimps running around the front of the building. The quality of the "johns" can't be all that great. The main neighborhood demographic is drunks that are just getting out of the drunk tank at the country jail which is four blocks down the street. (yes, I love it here)
It's this knowledge that is making it difficult to get people to "deliver" to my area. Even the cable guy wouldn't come to this area because he didn't want people to steal stuff off his truck.
I have needs but they conflict with the rules of the game. No two numbers can appear in the same row across or down. No number can repeat within the smaller boxes of 3X3. In order to get the furniture, I need to find the money, then the furniture, then the food. Then I need the internet, and the rent, so I can then lock the door behind me, stare at that volcano, tap away at these little keys and become a writing legend. (odds 3:7)
To solve my silverware dilemma, I have decided to take one set of silverware from each restaurant I eat at for the next few days. When I have five sets, I will quit. If you would like to help out, send money or decent photos of yourselves for a wall mural of my readers that I would like to stare at. It would make writing these a little easier when I knew what you all looked like. This does require you check my website for the new address. While you're at it, check out the links page. I will try to have a sodoku link. Not that any of you clicked on the link for the maze puzzle. OH, by the way, all your guesses were wrong on where I moved too, but good guesses, wrong town though.
I WILL SAY THIS CLEARLY: YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO VISIT ME WITHOUT ASKING FIRST. IF YOU TRY, YOU WILL SIT IN THE STREET AND I WILL WATCH THE OOMPA-LOOMPAS EAT YOU ALIVE. YOUR SCREAMS SHALL ONLY LULL ME TO SLEEP.
posted by Daniel Loomis | 11:10 AM
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