...at long last, the cosmic forces of fate have arranged for the trifecta of means, motivation, and muse-striking to coincide at a single point in space-time, and so I find myself sitting at my computer tipping away at my keyboard writing how at long last the cosmic forces of fate have arranged for the trifecta of means, motivation, and muse-striking to coincide at a single point in space-time, and so I find myself sitting at my computer tipping away at my keyboard writing how at long last...

So, as if that wasn't a strong hint, my mind has gone pretty deeply immersed into the world of computer science once again as I happily work away at my job. It's nifty stuff I do there, working primarily in Adobe Flex, C++, Javascript, and the occasional foray into the world of scripting languages such as Perl. Being on the infrastructure team, more emphasis is placed on well-thought-out architecture and organization rather than actual application development, which I welcome - analyzing a problem by iteratively abstracting more and more, I've found is surprisingly similar to doing musical analysis. And writing good code, to complete the circle, not unlike writing music. Contrary to what one might think, writing elegant, well-structured code feels as creative and challenging - and emotionally satisfying! - a task as writing a good fuge. Recursive functions, the continuous canons of code.

But my musical life continues as well. I don't practice as much as I'd like to, but regular engagements on approximately monthly basis with the New Jersey Philharmonic Orchestra (through which I get to play in venues like Lincoln Center and Carnegie Hall), my weekly teaching at the Bryn Mawr Conservatory (check out their new website with a nice picture of my...err, hand on the front page), and the occasional chamber music recital/concert keep me somewhat in shape. I've actually found that my playing in certain aspects has even improved - I dare say, for example, that my technical facility at playing the Bach Suite #6 - a piece as glorious as it is difficult - is better now compared to the time of my rendition of it at my graduation recital a year and a half ago! The brain is indeed a great source of mystery. The piano, too, remains as enjoyable a pastime as it has been. These days, I tend to spend my time realizing figured bass versions of Bach chorales and, of course, Brahms piano pieces.

Then, there are those days where my body just screams for some good exercise. Clearly, this has not been happening often enough lately, as my expanding waistline attests, but after having gotten over a sick spell and a few injuries (almost separated my left big toe's nail from the toe while snowboarding during the winter and consequently walked around for almost two months with a solid dark purple nail, prompting, uh, suspicious questions by my brother), I think I'm on the verge of getting back into regular exercise, which since last fall has been mostly running/working out at the gym and playing table tennis. Last Sunday, I checked out a table tennis tournament at the Fat Cat - a game club down in the village - with a friend, thinking it'd make for a good ease back into serious table tennis playing, and promptly ended up winning the tournament, including a double-or-nothing dare by the guy who organizes the table tennis activities at the club. That earned me a nice $180 - not a bad start into the new year, eh?

So, life is good. Except that my mom seems to be worried that I don't seem to be too worried about that whole marriage thing; questions like "How is your new workplace? Any nice ladies of your age?" - after the first week of work! - are a pretty good indication of that. It's not that I'm actively going out of my way of a relationship, but it's just that I'm still - and I will concede this - pretty darn picky when it comes to dating women, and these days, perhaps in light of the events of the past few years, I simply enjoy these things I do more than putting my time into trying to find a relationship with someone (and dealing with people who can't seem to be able to accept my choice of someone else or to stay single, as in one recent ugly case). I'm at peace with myself and my life, which is not something I could say about most of my (teenage & adult) life, and I think that makes for a pretty strong case.

Anyhow, enough rambling for today. This moment of cosmic coincidence is drawing to a close as my laundry awaits me downstairs, my thoughts are derailing into greater and greater incohesion, and the last thing anybody wants is for me to end by writing how I have nothing left to write about other than writing how I have nothing left to write about other than writing how I

yeah.