That’s the state of my rubix 4-cube, which I recently re-noticed, hiding behind a vase. The core was not too bad, but the edges were a pain; I never really figured out the rules. I just kept trying different things and hoping my pattern recognition circuits were being subliminally helpful. In the end, it’s been reduced to a 3-cube, which is all that really matters: the rest is (in theory) a bunch of vertex swaps, vertex shuffles and edge swap/shuffles. (Oh and don’t get too comfy with the edges lined up… they’re gonna be re-positioned… though hopefully* not scrambled, during the final steps).
But it’s not the edge shuffles I’m not worried about… basic twists’ll do, and occasionally the Deanster, my pet eponym for the algorithm a friend taught me a long time ago for edge shuffles. It’s beautifully poetic… almost sing-song… have a listen:
“up, around, up, around, up around – around,
down, around, down, around, down around – around”.
Since when did acupuncture involve electricity?! I must’ve missed that memo.
Well, I wouldn’t be a girl if I didn’t blog about lipgloss at least ONCE. Enjoy the sticky-sweet candy fluff nonsense while it lasts… but I just wanted to say: women of color, THIS IS YOUR COLOR. This fuschia-infused, radioactively luminescent preposterously purplish pink WAS MADE FOR YOU. Yes, it does not make sense. It defies colour theory. It should look awful on ANYONE, and you wouldn’t touch it with a barge pole if you saw it in the store. But trust me: ‘Easy Lover’ is, to put it crassly, THE SHIZZLE…
That is, quite literally, the title of the first chapter in the most awesome little math book ever. The “preliminary terrors” in question turn out to be calculus symbols – you might remember meeting those in high school and college. And if the the thought of meeting them again gives you an unpleasant sensation, Mr Silvanus P. Thompson is determined that you will make friends with calculus, this time round. 
I AM SICK. I hurt all over.
I recently learned that, under certain circumstances, poor directional hearing can be a bit of a blessing. It works kind of like “ignorance is bliss”. Case in point:
First off, the Goth is my car (actually ‘the snow goth‘, if you must know)… and the mechanic in question finally figured out and explained to me what the hell has been going on with the goth’s front-left wheel.