wiff

I've always wanted to have a haircut like Youmu Konpaku. She is one of the most lethal wielders of a bob cut I've ever seen. I have more wavy hair though, so I think it would turn out better than it would if I had straight hair, especially since anime hairstyles often don't translate well into real life without a few waves and curls. I've always wanted to rock bangs though, and I think her hairstyle is a good base for what I would want my hair to look like. The sad part is, everytime I go to my hairstylist, I find myself asking for the same haircut instead. I often feel held back by the fact that if I 1) asked for a bob or 2) showed my stylist an image of Youmu, I would be promptly kicked out of the building. It sucks a lot since my hair is something that worries me a lot. I wonder if I could find the courage to ask my stylist for what I truly want. I remember seeing a video online of a stylist who is very caring. She would ask the client for their name and pronouns, and then ask before they touch their hair. I remember a lot of people made fun of this video, citing that this is too much to be doing as a stylist, however I would very much like a stylist who cares a lot for their clients. I feel like I could show her a picture of Youmu and she would help guide me to finding a similar hair style that fits me. Alas, I don't know where that place is, so I'm stuck with my normal, uncaring stylist. I've actually never finished this game, as much as I've played it. I usually make it to stage 4 or 5 before running out of lives and having to restart all over again. A lot of it boils down to the fact that I often hemorrhage most of my lives dealing with Alice in stage 3, and then lose even more lives against the sisters in stage 4. I've only faced Youmu twice, yet she has captivated me since I first laid eyes on her. She is who I aspire to be. I feel like if I beat her though, it will lose the magic of this game for me. So I begrudgingly carry on, not intentionally throwing runs, but maybe in hopes I find another revelation that will comfort me before I defeat her.

A very exhilarating method of transportation! I think every single human being has fantasized about making a zipline from their own home to another location of their choosing. Take a clothes hanger from the closet, a piece of string, and you have the ability to zip from one place to another. I never knew how ziplines actually functioned until I was 12 years old. We went on a vacation south and decided to spend a day ziplining. This was sadly at the time that my father had torn his ACL, so he was only able to watch from the ground as we zipped from one tree to another. The ziplining experience culminated in one final zip: we would climb about 200 feet high to the top of a pole, and then zipline to the bottom. I must introduce an important aspect of ziplining. Ziplining takes place above the ground, usually at heights that could seriously injure or kill a human being. Because of this, protective gear and carabiners are used to keep zipliners from falling. While this equipment ultimately saves lives, they reduce the mobility of a zipliner, making it harder to navigate around. This often manifests in moving a few feet, unclipping one of your carabiners, attaching it to the next segment, then unclipping your second carabiner, then attaching it to the next section as well. This means there is no gap where someone could fall and not be saved by the carabiner. As I am climbing up this 200 foot pole, I suddenly jerk to a stop. The way my carabiners are arranged makes it so that I cannot move any further. This is because I have put my carabiner in a way that made it so that it is easy to attach with another carabiner attached to another segment, but is difficult to remove if you're also attached somewhere else. Furthermore, my brother is behind me, trying to climb up the pole so he can enjoy the ride down. He pesters me and I suddenly become panicked. I finally remove my bottom carabiner, yet my brother is still pestering me. He is complaining that I have been too slow. Because of this, I decide to unclip both carabiners, meaning I have no safety net if I were to fall. I am also about half way up. I clear a few more feet of ladder to get some distance between me and my brother before finally clipping myself back to the pole. The ride down was alright, albeit a bit too slow. When I get down my father is terrified. He has witnessed the whole thing. My mother, who was above me on the ladder, thankfully did not witness me endanger myself to appease my brother. I don't know why they would worry though. By the inverse square law, the smaller an organism is, the less impact they experience from a fall. I could have survived the fall. I have another story about ziplining. I went to another country with my aunt, uncle, brother, and cousin. We decided to go ziplining in a forest, and compared to last time, the location was more remote. We had to take a bus to the location. The ziplining went pretty fine, and after we got to relax in a small pond. I decide that I have to go to the bathroom. Usually, for people who see natural bodies of water, they decide to urinate in that body as to not waste time, as the water is already pretty dirty. However, I get out of the pond and wander the forest in search of a bathroom.This continues for about an hour. I cannot find a bathroom. After about 90 minutes of searching, I come across another person. She is also part of the ziplining group. I ask her where the bathroom is, and she tells me to follow her. She does not lead me to the bathroom. I enter a clearing and there is the bus, as well as my aunt and uncle, who are very mad at me. They are yelling and telling me not to wander off on my own. I still get comments about this incident to this day. Overall, I think ziplining is pretty fun, although I don't think I would ever do it again. I don't want to be yelled at.

They've come in many forms yet I struggle to enjoy any of them. I think what it comes down to is this: I like drinking water that is a good temperature. This temperature range goes from 0 - 10 degrees celsius, union, 18 - 22 degrees celsius. I often find that between the 11 - 17 degree mark, the water that comes from water fountains taste metallic and disgusting. Sadly, most water fountains reside around that temperature range. Even worse, many water fountains are not cooled at all. These are often water fountains you can find at a park or at any public installation that takes place outside. Drinking these almost leeches you of your hydration. I often feel like a horrible, disgusting swamp monster after taking a swig of any water above 30 degrees. It's why I usually bring or buy my own water bottle to drink water. In my first year of college, the water fountain in my dorm had an indicator for the water quality, how purified and filtered the water was, and how safe it was to drink. The light was always yellow. I heard an anecdote from an upperclassman that a year ago there was an E. coli outbreak that affected the water fountains around campus. In my second year, we also had an outbreak of bird flu near the campus pond, where students go to observe various aquatic and semiaquatic organisms for their classes. I wonder what it is about water that makes it attract a lot of disease. I remember working in my dorm's common room one night, working on finishing homework for one of my classes. After I finish, I pack up and head back to my room to prepare to shower. After I change and leave my room, I pass by the same hallway where the common room is. That is also where the water fountain is. This time, I also see someone else. He is grinding against the water fountain with his pelvis. I pause for a brief moment as I watch him stand straight up and put his two hands on the top rim of the water fountain, almost as if he is domineering over it. I then avert my gaze and go on. I never drank from that water fountain again. The water fountain can be an important tool for those who are thirsty. But I think they are outclassed in large part by soda fountains, which often provide crisper, cooler water, as well as a variety of flavored, carbonated iterations of the old classic. See "Soda" for more info.

Discord. It's the modern wonder of global communication. Or so I've heard. I have a discord account, and something I've noticed a lot is that I often have the same social troubles I do in Discord servers than I do in real life. One time I was told by a few friends that a wonderful cookout was to take place down the block, and that they were going. But not me. I wasn't invited. I was not invited because no one specifically told me to come, even though it was like an open house thing, I was not specifically invited. And so I instead laid in bed and lamented all the delicious barbeque I could've eaten. I decided to eat plain crackers instead for dinner. I do like crackers, but I think that day would've been made better had I was cordially and officially invited to attend the cookout. I am currently a member of 25 discord servers. Some of these are private groupchats that I have been informed by my lawyer not to talk about. But I am a member of a few interesting public discords: "PvZ: Fusion Fans Discord", "Under Night In-Birth Player Hub", "Deadlock", "Blitz Jam", "Blazblue Centralfiction", and a few others that I will not mention for the sake of brevity. "Smogon". Please make sure to ping me in these servers to confirm that I am in fact a member of these communities. Discord's name stems from the fact that modern communication is often chaotic and messy at times. I watched a Chechoslovak film by the name of Možnosti dialogu which helps explain how Discord works. Spoilers for Možnosti dialogu. You see, talking in Discord server is a bit like eating one another. Or it's kind of like having a little guy pester you and make you hate your wife. Or it's kind of like using a pencil sharpener on a tube of toothpaste. There are many different possibilities for how any interaction is going to go. Sometimes you can engage in a wonderful conversation that will carry you throughout the night. Other times, there is one person who is talking that makes you never want to talk to anyone who associates with them ever. I remember many years ago I joined a Discord server and tried to make friends. I saw two people in one of the server's voice channels, so I decided to join and strike up some conversation. Bad idea. These were two lovebirds who I had just disturbed from a very intimate moment. Being 13 years old at the time too, I felt as if I had walked in on my parents having sex. Strangely enough, I stayed, since they immediately stopped what they were doing. But I left a few minutes later. One of my friends is very active on Discord. I share a few mutual servers with him. One thing I notice is that he tends to send the same message in every server, and then also post this message as a tweet on his Twitter account. I wonder why one would do this, but then I realize one of the major pitfalls of Discord. Everyone is separated from one another. Each server is like a lunch table that you sit at, and sometimes the cool kids won't let you sit at their lunch table. But other times, there is a lunch table that is so packed with people that it makes you not want to sit there. What if I get squished. I remember when I was in 4th grade I had a diary. One thing I would write in this diary were strategies to sitting at the lunch table. You see, I often was one of the last people to sit at the lunch table, and thus would be at the very end. Being at the end of a lunch table is a uniquely lonely experience. You never hear any good conversation. You never feel the warm embrace of another person. It's just the dead air to the left or your right. Anyways, I wrote a bunch of strategies and ideal win conditions for being able to sit at the center of the lunch table. They looked a lot like football routes, where I would have an arrow for each person in my friend group moving to a certain position at the lunch table. It never panned out though. A few years later, they went from being friends to just being acquaintances. My Discord account was made in 2023. I used to have another Discord account which was made in 2017. I think. Back in 2022 I was sick and tired of all the junk emails I was receiving from fake newsletters and the like. They are very annoying, especially as someone who had no responsibilities and thus no incentive to check their email regularly. I was so sick of the spam mail that I decided to delete my email account. However, this meant that I could no longer access any of my accounts associated with that email. Because of this, I had to forge a new identity. This is how Wiff was born. Discord has been in a lot of hot water lately. I've been told by my lawyers not to comment on this though. All I will say is that I really dislike their company mascot, the Wumpus. It is a very ugly creature. When I join a discord server or add a new friend on the site, I often am given a prompt to use an animated Wumpus image to signal that I am in fact in the building. I never do so. Terrible website.

This mathematical object teaches us a valuable lesson: No matter how unpredictable the path ahead may be, we can at least know how fast we can be separated from our loved ones. I remember working on proofs for this with one of my math professors and when I made big progress he touched me. Not in like an inappropriate way, but it was like, "way to go buster" and he lightly punched me in the shoulder, and I still don't really know how I feel about that. I bombed that paper by the way. I couldn't finish it in time. At least I think. I never got the actual grade back. I still have a lot of respect for the Lyapunov exponent and the interesting results it produces, and how it helps us understand chaotic systems a little bit better. I still have code I wrote in R that allows you to observe the LE of a specific solution of a map, as well as a way to generate histograms at what a map's Lyapunov exponents tend to be, so if you are curious about that I can send it over to you. Frankly I hope my LE days are behind me because I intend on marrying into money. Hopefully I can get more than 50% when the divorce eventually happens.

I've famously (or infamously) hated chocolate for all of my life. I don't think there is much of an explanation for why I do. My going theory is that I may have eaten poop as a toddler and disliked it, which has made me adverse to eating certain foods, chocolate being one of them. I have constantly been pressured to eat chocolate as well. If I were to sum all the money I've been offered to eat chocolate over the years, I would estimate it to be about $7037 (accounting for inflation), but I have remained resolute for the most part. I just don't really like chocolate though, it's bitter and I often find a lot of discomfort in the textures of many common chocolate products. I have a special animus for chocolate chips because of a specific story that happened when I was about 8 years old. The previous night, my brother and cousins decided to watch a horror movie, and while I said no thanks and went to sleep, I heard the whole movie down the hall, which gave me a lot of anxiety and prevented me from actually falling asleep. It was a very dreadful experience, and I barely caught any Z's as a result. I groggily woke up late- about 11:00AM (which is usually when I normally wake up when I don't have class or work LOL) and went downstairs to whip up some breakfast. I procured a box of cereal from the cabinet- branded shredded wheat squares with frosting on them- and poured myself a bowl. Dry. I then turn and go to the bathroom real quick. I had just woken up after all. When I return to my bowl of cereal I take a few bites and notice that things seem off. There is a bitter taste to my frosted squares that I don't like. I take another bite. Off. Something is not right, so I take a look down at my bowl. For about a split second, it's almost like I see vermin in my cereal. Like spiders and cockroaches. This is genuinely how I remember this I am not messing with you here. I quickly shivered and let out a panicked yelp as I stand up and check the cereal box. Nothing. I hesitantly take another look at my bowl and see nothing. The chocolate chips have disguised themselves in the thick wheat foliage. They're mixed too damn well for me to see. I try to ignore it and I take my like, eighth or ninth bite? I was a bit unaware for the first few. I suddenly hear chuckles, as if a prank is being played on me. I turn around and see one of my cousins who is asking me, "Is something different about your cereal?" and truth be told, I don't really know if I noticed anything different. I also don't remember what I said. I throw out the bowl though. A few hours later, I would be on the beach, trying to do the thing where you surf a wave but with your whole body instead. There was a wave that was really large and I tried to ride it, but it was very violent. I was thrashed underwater, and I conveniently scraped my nose on a sea shell as I was being tossed by the current. I then got an Ugly Dolls plush soon after. This was one of the worst days of my life. I never knew what was in that bowl of cereal until years later. I am having dinner with my cousins when one of them recollects the time that they pranked me. I asked how. They then detailed how they had snuck chocolate chips into my cereal bowl while I was in the bathroom as an attempt to get me to like chocolate. The catalyst to one of the most miserable experiences I've ever had in my life boiled down to chocolate chips, which I initially thought were bugs. While I still appreciate my brother and cousins a lot, this betrayal is something I will never forget and always hold against my family. They say that chocolate is like the gold of food, but the people who enjoy chocolate have anything but a heart of gold. One star.

A bit of context, a few years back I took a discrete math course. Very hard, but very fun! The way the course was structured around is that you went to TA sessions with your classmates and did the homework together. Anyways, one of our questions was a question on induction, specifically that we had to analyze a proof and then point out at which part did this proof mess up. One part was along the lines of this: "Claim: We have a set S containing only real numbers. Then every member of S has the same sign." As I was wrapping my head around this proof, I could not for the life of me understand where this proof messed up. Looking back, this seemed elementary, but it took me a solid 30 minutes to finally understand what is going on. We now introduce another character into this story. jan Misali is a youtuber best known for their work in linguistics and game design, although my introduction and appreciation largely stems from their incredible but sadly unfinished WarioWare fanfic called "Wario Faces Consequences for His Actions". They have also published a video by the name of "the five kinds of paradox" in which I learned about various different paradoxes and the ways they kind of suck (sorry to any paradoxes in the audience). I watched this video when it initially came out (so a few months before my story takes place), but it didn't occupy my mind that much. Back to the story. About 45 minutes have passed and I severely do not know how to begin answering this question. It is very agonizing, because I am often the slowest among my fellow math majors, especially with more abstract concepts. It makes me feel like a fraud sometimes, since a lot of proofwriting comes naturally for them, but for me it takes a long time to formulate (and I often need help from others in order to make progress). However, as I reread the question again, it hits me, and I blurt out loudly in the classroom: "It's the fucking horses." I am subsequently told by one of the TAs to be quiet, not out of the fact I've blurted out something loudly (there is a bit of walla walla in this classroom as students are working together), but rather I had unlocked the secret to this question, that this is indeed a rewriting of the horse problem, and that I should be quiet as to not spoil the answer for everyone else. I had gained secret horse knowledge to gain an edge against my peers in this class, and for that I am very grateful for this funny and memorable paradox for helping me in this class. As someone who also has gotten into horses through another avenue (in this case, the media franchise Uma Musume: Pretty Derby), I come back to this claim with a more burning question: What would this claim look like in the Uma Musume universe? As a franchise revolving around a gacha game, I find it unlikely that racism exists in the in-game universe and thus the claim of all horses being the same color could possibly exist as a normal paradox- calling all horses the same color is inoffensive in their utopian world. But on the other hand, the people who are writing Uma Musume come from our real world, a world where things are not so perfect. Thus, it could be possible for the writers of Uma Musume to exclude or rewrite the claim to prevent offending people. This is another paradox which I consider to almost be on the same level of the claim of "all horses are the same color". I've actually seen a few horses before. I've often driven in rural backroads, and I often crane my neck to see the livestock out on the road. This is very unsafe but I've never gotten into a crash from doing this before, so I keep on doing it. I've actually only seen one color of horses, specifically bay horses, with a brown coat. Sometimes, they wear external coats too. This is called a horse blanket though. However, if we consider horse blankets, there are n*m combinations of colors the horses can be, where n is the number of different coats a horses have, and m is the color blanket the horses have. We conclude by saying that there are only two combinations of colors though. I've only ever seen bay horses, and I've only seen one horse with a blanket, and thus there are only two different types of horses that exist. Overall, I recommend memorizing this paradox. If you happen to take a high level mathematics course, or want to impress your friends, this can be a very useful tool in your back pocket to get out of a sticky situation. I would not recommend this for a job interview though.

My favorite cheese. Subtracting a point because I was going to eat some smoked mozzarella tonight but I opened it up and it was moldy ;-; that doesn't usually happen. I had regular mozzarella in my fridge instead. I had it with some sopressata and crackers and I now feel super good. They say you shouldn't trust how you feel after 9PM but eating a big snack like this gives me hope that, despite all the troubles I've gone through, I can eat a lot and then fall asleep and feel tuckered out and sleep easy knowing I had the best cheese ever before bed. Some important mozzarella tech (that can also apply to other cheeses) is that you do not have to slice the mozzarella with a knife to enjoy it. If the mozzarella comes unsliced, I often find it satisfactory to simply take a bite out of the chunk of cheese, and then spit it out like a bird to then combine with other ingredients, like crackers. However, in some stores you can buy mozzarella sliced! This is because mozzarella is an ingredient of caprese salad, which is also pretty good, although not the main draw of this cheese for me. Anyways, you can use the mozzarella slices to simply adorn onto whatever ingredients you want, which is very economic for those who like to eat cheese in their bed (it is pretty hard to use utensils in bed I notice. Except for spoons. I don't really know why that is the case). Furthermore, mozzarella is one of few cheeses to be blessed with the convenience of industrial snack manufacturing, and you can find it frequently as an ingredient of string cheese. I've long grown out of my string cheese phase, as a more dignified woman, but I cannot deny the impact having a piece of mozzarella string cheese has had on me for my early years (and maybe a few of my later ones too!). A funny story, I actually lost my first tooth to a piece of mozzarella string cheese. This is completely factual and you can confirm this with my kindergarten teacher. The tooth is long gone, as I accidentally swallowed it, but I thank the wonderful invention of mozzarella for helping me take the first step to adulthood. I'm reading the page for mozzarella on the Wikipedia website and it says that mozzarella comes from the milk of buffalo, specifically Italian Mediterranean buffalo. These buffalo reside around the Camania area of southern Italy, and it makes me wonder, hey I have relatives who live in Italy, in fact about half of my family lives in Italy. I wonder if they have ever met an Italian Mediterranean buffalo before. I wonder if they've ever thanked them for the hard work they do in producing the world's greatest cheese. I would do so myself but sadly I am a bit farther away from Italy compared to my relatives. One underrated use for mozzarella is burgers. It has a nice, neutral taste that compliments a lot of condiments very well, especially ketchup and various tangy aiolis. As a neurodivergent individual, I find the texture to be the best part, as it liquefies quite well on the patty but not as much as American. While this leads to a rubbery texture many may dislike, I'm quite fond of it, and I find that it leaves a lot for me to chew on, both literally and metaphorically. As a cheese, you can't really go wrong with mozzarella. I think it's a cheese that puts in a lot of good work, puts up very strong numbers, and always shows up when you need it to. And what I've talked about here is just the tip of the iceberg with respect to this, as I have not gotten into mozzarella's wonderful uses in other dishes such as pasta, chicken parmesan (which is a very misleading name. This is something that upsets me a lot.), and caprese salad. Obviously you should try it for yourself to form an opinion, but my opinion is that it is a wonderful cheese that has always been there for me. Much love <3