21 Jan 98 
 
	So I'm finally back in the city, after a vacation of cross-stitch  
(teacups and tea-settings), simpsons, and indifferent dogs.  I have  
returned to my usual activities and consumptions -- simpsons,  
cross-stitch, math.  It was interesting to note how little the signs on  
Tower Records have changed -- only two new album covers for the new year?   
How pitiful. 
 
	Speaking of covers, I have had an interesting run-in with covers  
lately.  First, I went and saw one of the ubiquitous corporate college  
tours -- this time commemorating the 30th year (well, that was the end of  
last year) of Rolling Stone magazine.  Actually, the exhibit was about the  
magazine covers.  And I picked up a package from the post office that had  
been sitting there for almost a month (I guess they don't forward  
_everything_.  I'll have to remember that.)  It was a Christmas present  
from Brad, a book of _Sandman_ covers.  It's interesting that one of our  
culture's aphorisms is "You can't judge a book by its cover", but here are  
two presentations based on the premise that the surface is very  
representative (or evocative) of the meaning of the interior.  Image is  
everything or Image is nothing?   
 
	 There's a Krispy Kreme a few blocks from here now.  I could smell  
it on approach.  Hurrah.  Between that and the creamline milk in a glass  
bottle, I should top 150 before the end of the semester. 
 
	I have other things to say, but they can wait til later.  I've  
decided to ration myself.  I will only note a few odd quirks of my own  
that I have noticed: 
 
	* I have begun to take my notes in two columns.  Somehow it  
naturally started in the Asymptotics class and I've kept to it. 
 
	* Some of my scrap paper has a single word or phrase on it, like  
"Math T" or "1.00".  I understand that first one, I probably was starting  
to write solutions for my Math Think class, but stopped.  But that "1.00"  
just mystifies me.  It reminds me of the 1990 ARML, when Akira Negi won  
the individual tie-breaker.  On his scrap paper there was a simple "45" in  
the center, the answer.  Zen rock garden, paintings of one big dot,  
Akira's "45", my "1.00".  Secrets of the universe are to be revealed. 
 
	* I seem to whistle "Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore" when I'm in  
the stairwell here.  It used to be "If I only had a Brain".  I must be  
moving up in the world.