12-IV-2003.

The morning was still cloudy, but dry, and by noon it cleared up and not a cloud in the afternoon. We went to look for an apartment, but no city map anywhere. Found one eventually, at the gas station near the hotel. We had lunch at a chinese restaurant, a cheap job in the middle of a parking lot of one of the shopping centers lined up the boulevard (it was torn down only five years later, to make room for a Sonic drive-through). The sweet-and-sour turned out quite interesting.

We scoured a few places where they did have anyone at the in the rental office on a saturday, but ran into roadworks in one of the streets and it took us some time to get out - by then most of them closed, so we went straight to the place on 24th that we liked while web-searching. They had no vacancies, but we found another one just across the street, a real Borik with huge pines, twice higher than those. The apartment has a large verandah, and there's bays all around the place. The catch was the cable TV - not optional, 32$ a month, 50 channels. Yeah, saw them all in the hotel, about one of them without ads. Saw a concert of Joe Cocker, probably the only one rock concert we saw on TV while in the US.

Scheduled the move for 20th june.

This spring the book „Gödel, Escher, Bach“ (which I mispronounced as esh-er instead of es-her, forgot what those Dutches girls taught me long ago, but over time got that in order, learned again) came to mind again. Mentioned somewhere, probably. And waidaminnit, what was that, let me remember better. The easy way is what I did: ordered, it arrived, started reading. Ouchchch. Alright, there's some magnificent thinking, there's everything, there's even good mathematics, but... I read it maybe by half, and concluded that it will fractally twist into itself into five hundred more branches of the same. It felt good to be able to follow each line of thought in there, and to keep it all in [my] head, but the more I read it, the more I was getting an impression that there's no end to it, the end is when you stop reading. So I did, and didn't feel any lack of anything.

And eh, mathematics, can do whatever it wants, and makes it so. Here and there, some of it gets noticed by someone as exactly reflecting some phenomenon in reality, and that becomes a huge benefit, but it can branch in so many directions that the poor reality lags behind, can't cope up with it. I don't remember the current whereabouts of the book, and it's sizable, 700 pages, because in the following twentysome years nobody even mentioned it.

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Mentions: Borik, in serbian

27-III-2013 - 10-III-2026