UI, HCI

This semester, I'm crushed with reading and writing even without taking any actual humanities classes.[1] 6.833 (aka 6.xxx) and 6.033 assign on average two papers a week each, with written responses required. 6.033 has design projects and "Hands-On" assignments on top of that. I'm also in 6.813 and 6.UAT, and all four of these classes have final projects.

I'm as tired and busy as ever, but still weirdly happy. If I were an impersonal biographer for myself, I might attribute it to post-IAP-in-France effects. But if France is a factor, it's not the only one. I'm simply enjoying my classes greatly; though stress and sleeplessness are no fun, they're okay because I want to learn the thing that I'm sleepily nodding over.

One thing I've discovered: I don't like reading textbooks, but enjoy a good paper. And then, here's another thought: maybe it's not that I really like these classes more, but that I enjoy learning through reading and writing. When I read, I can get a fuller picture of a subject than when I'm simply lectured, and that's what I need in order to retain knowledge. Some of these papers in 6.033 are really well-written, too. I'm jealous.

6.813: User Interface Design and Implementation throws a wrench in this hypothesis, but then there's a more obvious reason why it's my favorite class now in terms of material. It's probably cognitively the easiest class I have, but is also the most interesting for me to think about beyond the lectures (which are okay, sometimes on the dry side). I've been way overachieving on the first two project deliverables, and luckily my group has been supportive.

User Interfaces (UI) falls under the umbrella of Human-Computer Interaction (HCI), and the obvious reason I like it is it's ultimately about people. I've been afraid of computer science jobs because I'm afraid of being stuck dealing with just machines, but this field precludes that from being the case, especially when working with crowdsourcing. HCI research is something I want to explore. I've even thought about grad school beyond MEng because of HCI. Well, well, one thing at a time.

For now, I'm just trying to do well in UI, and taking time to do a bit of extra reading on HCI on the side. I just found the CSAIL events calendar last week, after being at MIT for almost three years (yes, shame on me!), and saw that there's an HCI Seminar Series every Friday. In fact, the series is hosted by the UI professor, Rob Miller, which is more intimidating than assuring. I'm planning to go for the first time this Friday, and hopefully I'll blend in--I have no idea if usually ten people attend (in which case I'll stick out as the newbie), or thirty.

If it's ten, I'm going to have to work on, uh, Human-Human Interaction.




[1] I dropped all three humanities classes this term: Streamlined Chinese II, Intro to Acting, and The Social Documentary. I actually attended Chinese and Acting for two weeks, never showed up to Documentary. The hardest one to let go was Chinese, and I wasn't even planning on it. But one morning I found myself sitting in UI lecture while trying to complete homework for and study for an entire quiz in Chinese (which was right after UI), and I just decided it wasn't sustainable. I felt like crap for a day after, not as bad as if I'd given away my baby, but worse than letting go of a crush.

Gilmore Girls, The Daily Show, and Patton Oswalt

This is the last place I thought I'd be: on Youtube searching "Gilmore Girls." It almost rhymes with "Paris Hilton."

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Whenever you mention you're a college student, you know the next two questions: 1) where do you go? and 2) what are you studying?

On the drive today to Saint-Antoine for the farmer's market, Jane (Colin's wife) asked number 2, since she knew 1, and I answered as usual: "computer science... but I don't think that's what I want to do all my life..."

Don't know why it hasn't struck me until now--maybe the fresh air in the country here has cleared my brains: normal people might say "I don't know" when you ask what they want to do, but don't usually tell you, "I've made the wrong choice." That, though, is my self-narrative.

Anyway Jane asked, "Well, what do you want to do?"

"I'd like to write."

She laughed. "Now you're talking." Maybe that's a British way of saying "dreaming." At least violin-making, which her son dropped out of college to pursue, is more respectable.

"Well not novels... I think it'd be fun to write for a comedy show," I blurted.

So we talked comedy. She and Colin are quite ironically, Britishly humorous, so I took their recommendations to heart. They offered up a few British comedians to check out. (But one was Scottish, and he might as well speak Swahili.) Then Jane said Gilmore Girls has really sharp, witty dialogue.

After watching a few clips, I'll give it "sharp" at least.

***

Patton Oswalt was the guest on last Thursday's Daily Show to promote his new book, Zombie Spaceship Wasteland. Shortly after watching Jon Stewart giggle through most of the interview, I was on Youtube watching Oswalt do stand-up. This clip is genius:

The Future of MIT Dining

Dining has been a contentious issue at MIT lately, as a new plan is being introduced next year. The creator of "I Saw You MIT" recently posted two blog entries of analysis that really made sense to me. He argues that the new plan has higher prices and lower quality than other college plans, and furthermore may not even help MIT's financial woes.

One of the major reasons for student protests, besides the financial one, is the fear this significantly pricier plan will force students to move out of dorms where the plan will be required (to dorms where it won't be), thus significantly damaging MIT's unique dorm cultures. I've been wondering about another, perhaps more worrisome issue -- the potential impact of this plan on prospective students' decisions to attend MIT.

Tonight, I summarized my feelings in a comment to the second of the isawyou posts, which I've reproduced below:

Another issue I haven't heard much about, but think could be important, is the potential effect of the dining plan on prospective students' decisions to attend MIT. Colleges like to advertise their dining offerings for a reason. Given our current dissent over dining, prospectives who are mildly interested in what campus life is like here (who might read The Tech or heck, maybe even this site) are going to hear about our unhappiness with the plan. Even if they don't, they'll undoubtedly compare living costs and quality at the colleges they've been accepted to, and given what Keone says about Harvard and other schools, we could lose an edge.

In high school, I definitely recall friends coming back from visiting colleges raving about their wide and delicious range of food options, or complaining about the high prices and so-so quality at others. The freedom of choice in dining at MIT was certainly a big draw for me, and it seemed to represent a general attitude that students here are trusted to make choices about their lives. The ubiquitous kitchens of Burton Conner drew me to live here.

Food, being central to our daily lives, is not a trivial issue. Perhaps this plan will make MIT more appealing to some prospectives (since there are indeed going to be more options, such as all-you-can-eat, etc.), but I'm worried that those who learn of the relatively high cost of the new plan, and perhaps experience the mediocre quality of dining during CPW, and hear of rumors that dorm culture will be significantly impacted (especially if they really want to live in one of the non-dining hall dorms, and now think it will be difficult to lottery into them), might be turned away.

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I just read the latest Tech article on the matter (just out tonight, around 2 AM), and there's a troubling quote from Dean for Student Life Chris Colombo:

As it stands, Colombo said that he believes the plan is flexible enough for us to recognize what students want in a meal plan. According to the minutes, Colombo said, “Three years down the road — we don’t know what people will want. We won’t know until we have this period of time. What if no one wants breakfast? We’re going to have to look at [it].”

Holy cow. What if no one wants breakfast? Never mind that "students want breakfast" has been one of the justifications from the administration for its addition to the dining plan. Is there really going to be a re-evaluation in three years if no one wants breakfast, though? I have my doubts. If no one eats, it doesn't really matter to them -- you have already paid.

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It occurred to me that if prospective students express serious doubts about the new dining plan, administrators might actually get more serious about re-evaluating it. I really wonder how prospective students feel about this issue.

Update: a petition to protest dining has started here - The Campus Dining Petition

Applying to be a French Farm Worker (in ~250 words)

What can be said about wanting to work on a farm in France, as a computer science major? I can't say it will directly provide me with skills for my future career, nor will it be a service project to cure diseases in the third world.

I spent the past weekend on a retreat in a cabin in the woods of New Hampshire. I helped build a fire, felt the death chill of the autumn night, used an outhouse. I heard the gurgling of a stream running by my side, hiked up steep stone faces, saw foliaged red-orange-green valleys spread out before me from 2700 feet. What struck me the whole time was how alien this life was from being at MIT, the hub of technological wired-ness. I was surprised by how little I needed to be happy.

The value of experiences is often justified by relatively short-term results. Say, if I work at a farm, I'll learn to grow vegetables, which seems pretty trivial. In the long run, though, this experience will be important in a deeper way. In a world in which resources are growing ever more scarce, in which food production is being re-evaluated, working on a farm will give me firsthand perspective on these larger issues. I will also learn the perspectives of people whose jobs, lives, and culture are vastly different from mine.

In the future, despite being a computer scientist writing (maybe, hopefully) widely-used web applications, a role far removed from physical labor, the work I do can still be informed by these experiences I build. There may be concerns of farmers that computer scientists may never know because they do not usually mix; and so I wish to explore.

Summer Food

Yan stands a half-forehead taller than me, but her delicate frame carries at least ten pounds less than mine. By looks, you wouldn't think she can out-eat me by a mile.

Yan (and my brother) is actually responsible for my becoming a slight foodie. Last summer, we trekked to New York City to experience her holy grail of fine dining, Jean-Georges, along with a cheap and quick Gourmet-magazine-writer-friend-recommended hole-in-the-wall Japanese eatery (no seating aside from a bench outside the shop), and the slightly infamous Momofuku milk bar (which does not even print its own name on the storefront - you are just supposed to know).

Most of the time, I subsist on supermarket-brand multigrain bagels, a tub of hummus, whatever yogurt is on sale this week, the same goes for fruit, and carrots and lettuce, sometimes tomatoes. Day-to-day, I care more about satisfying my nutrition, being conscious of vitamin intake and avoiding processed foods, than my cravings, and more about value, comparing unit prices and targeting items discounted by my Shaw's savings card, than taste. As a college student on a budget, it's essential to be diligent in the daily chore of feeding myself. But once in a while, I enjoy sitting down to savor well-crafted food.

This summer's eating kicked off with a visit to Rendezvous in Central Square with Yan. The yellow awning framing the restaurant had always impressed upon me a sense of tackiness, the way plastic cutlery would dull the shine of a five-star setting. The interior is handsome, however, with dark hardwood floors, blond hardwood tables, and a yellow brick wall on the side of the room lined by the bar. When we arrived at five, the dining room was almost empty, it being early, endowing the room with a feel of airy spaciousness. Late afternoon light flooded in from the large storefront windows; it was the light that occurs fifteen minutes before a surprise rain shower--already, a few rogue drops had begun to fall--a warm waning glow with menacing gray undertones.

Throughout the course of the meal, we were attended to by three different members of the waitstaff, including one who was quite handsome (much like the interior). The service was courteous but a bit detached, I felt--nice, but without personality. Charm, I think though, is a quality of the individual servers more than a reflection on the restaurant (although a restaurant would be culpable for hiring truly rude staff).

Ceviche of halibut with salsa verde, rooftop radishes and mint

As an aside, I always feel like asking waiters their names, as if we should introduce ourselves, since we are two people who have just met. I mentioned this to Yan during the meal, and she replied, "I don't feel that way. They never ask you your name." I had never thought of that. Servers, I figured, don't ask you your name because they aren't your equals in their role, in that particular social transaction. (You, however, as the guest, are free to demand this information of them.) The inequality explains my discomfort with being served at restaurants, especially as the luxurious touches ramp up (i.e. pulling out and pushing in your chair for you, or wiping crumbs from your tablecloth between courses). The discomfort must also stem from some internal indignance; in accepting these luxuries, I silently exclaim, "as if I couldn't do that myself!"

Braised pork and veal meatballs with toasted orecchiette, maitakes and piave cheese

The food was good. For the price, I thought it should have been better; still I was impressed by the meatball dish, whose excessive butteryness was both the bane and joy of it. The appetizer was small, though fresh--they grow their own herbs on the roof. The dessert was disappointing though: too sweet, nothing special. A small spoonful of Yan's jasmine rice pudding made me regret choosing the lemon-buttermilk.

Lemon-buttermilk pudding with huckleberry sauce

After this meal, I did not feel compelled to return.
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Last weekend my brother returned home. I don't recall having seen him for a year; over winter break he was in China, and he's working in Chicago this summer. For the occasion, I treated my family to lunch at Market by Jean-Georges, a throwback to last summer's holy grail in NYC.

The restaurant is an appendage of the upscale W Boston hotel. The decor suggests the pure and natural: all furniture is colored in shades of grays, blacks, and white; the small bread plate is a dense stone-like slate; at the center of each table, a clipped flower sits in an egg-shaped ceramic pot designed to resemble an rock. The lofty ceiling lies maybe thirty to forty feet up, and an equally tall sheet of glass makes up the street-facing wall, providing most of the restaurant's day lighting.

The place setting at Market by Jean-Georges

Our server was an older gentleman with an invisible and effortless grace. His manner, though I could not pinpoint any specifics, put me at ease. He did, at one point, wink at me from afar after just having served our table, as if in an inside joke that he thought I knew. I'm sorry I didn't ask his name.

Foreground: Crispy clams in basil salt with chili dipping sauce
Background: House-made Cherry-Yuzu soda

We each started with an appetizer. My fried clams were gently crunchy and soft and tender on the inside, the dipping sauce so light, even lighter than some whipped cream, and flavored perfectly--in a way I can only describe as "delicate"--as to make known its presence while complimenting the clams. The cherry-yuzu soda was a unique, sweet, slightly tart flavor I'd never encountered in my life, and truly delicious. Finally, the pizza crust was thin and crisp, the bread itself yeasty and wholesome, the cheese salty and flavorful, with greens drizzled with olive oil in the middle. In every dish here, I could taste quality. It's the taste of everything being done right, because someone paid attention to the details. It's something I did not strongly detect at Rendezvous, or most anywhere else I've been.

Black Truffle Pizza with Fontina Cheese

I will return to Market.

Biking to Work

I've decided to bike to work, from about Central Square in Cambridge to Lexington. Altogether it's about 12.5 miles each way. Biking is much more economical (I would be spending about $8.40 on public transport every day) and time-saving (instead of sitting on the bus/train for two hours, I get up to three hours of exercise).

Here's the log of the first few days:

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Saturday, I took a test run to check out the roads. I left at noon, at the peak of the day's heat, and forgot sunscreen, and neglected to put on my sunglasses until I realized my eyes were burning. That was painful. I also went down a few wrong roads on the way there. Upon reaching the office, my nose bled. On the way back, I decided to take an alternate route (not Mass Ave), and got a little confused around Harvard Square, but not for much.
Way there: 1 hour 40 mins
Way back: 1 hour 20 mins

Yesterday, I left at 5:47 AM. In the afternoon, I left the office early, at 4 PM, in hopes of beating the traffic, but I seem to have just biked into it. It was also very hot then.
Way there: 1 hour 15 mins
Way back: 1 hour 30 mins

This morning, I left at 5:43 AM. A road in Lexington was blocked for paving, and I ended up taking an alternate route, which was wrong. I realized this after I'd gone a fifth of a mile off. I ended up working 11 hours today, leaving from the entrance of Vistaprint at 6:43 PM. A few drops of rain fell on my face not far into my ride, and I got a little scared given those flash downpours Boston has been having. So I biked vigorously, partially driven by fear, especially as I got closer to WILG and the drops got bigger.
Way there: 1 hour 20 mins
Way back: 1 hour exactly: 6:43-7:43 PM

Total: ~75 miles.

Tomorrow I have to take public transport because it's going to rain.

Commencement

For the past couple of weeks, I've been scuttling between Burton Conner and my hometown. A week at home, a week at BC, a week at home again. Today I moved back to the city for good, since my internship starts tomorrow.

During the week at BC, I tied up loose extracurricular ends, including finishing up a feature story (begun in February) about tenure for The Tech. Then that Friday, I volunteered for Commencement, getting my first glimpse of a day two years from now.

As one of the roughly twenty people assigned to street duty, I witnessed the healthy line outside Killian Hall at 7 AM. It was like a mini-Black Friday; I was told people had started lining up as early as 6, maybe even before. Commencement didn't begin until 10 AM or so. What a long day for a lot of family members.

In the course of the morning, I moved from furiously handing out programs as waves of people entering Killian Court flowed by me, to standing on the Memorial Drive sidewalk saying good-mornings and directing people toward the correct side of the rope that was set up to corral them into a line (next year, they just need an arrow sign).

Around 10:45, I was reappointed to the interior of the Court, where I spent the rest of the day saying, "Please sir could you take a seat? You're blocking everyone's view." One person would go up to the front of the section to take photos, and a pack, a nonstop stream, would follow, leading to a wall of bodies blocking the views of those sitting behind them (a problem of fairness) and packed aisles (a problem of safety).