My Zones Download 2013-2025 Form

I think it is easy to appear very knowledgeable when: 1) you have been studying a subject for eight years, and 2) you have access to the Internet.I actually have a very poor memory for details (honestly, my memory is pretty bad, period). Thankfully, I am good at remembering big picture things, so I can usually quickly figure what reference I should consult if I am presented with a question about mathematics.That said, mathematics is my bread and butter. I think about it in some form or another every day. Exactly what that means varies a lot, and as disorganized as I usually am, I would be hard pressed to give you a good estimate. I also have a tendency to binge-work, where I will simply sit down and think about a problem for hours on end---when you are in the zone, it can be difficult to snap out of it. Other days, getting into the zone is pretty much a lost cause, and so I will try to fill it up with menial work that doesn't take as much brain power.Back when I was in undergrad, this usually took the form of problem sets. During my first few semesters in grad school, this was eventually replaced by preparing for the qualifying exams---we had three of them (one each in algebra, analysis, and topology), and I learned the hard way that the only way to pass them was to set aside a few hours every day to review material and solve practice exams.During the semesters when I am teaching, I will think about calculus very frequently, trying to come up with better ways of explaining the material. I'm getting better at it. When I am not teaching, I concentrate on research. In my case, this might mean that I spend many hours programming, or I might be typing up results, or I might be reading a paper that I think will be relevant.Always, I go to mathematical talks that I find interesting---there used to be a weekly number theory seminar at Yale, but it is currently on hiatus. I also try to go to a couple of conferences every semester.I have accumulated some tips and tricks along the way. Hopefully, they have been helpful/interesting to those that have read them.

Spend less time using your blocked Internet to ask questions on Quora, andTravel back in time to when there was no curfew and you were playing Super Mario Kart, and instead, fill out your exam form.

I was selected for a summer internship 2016.I tried to be very open while filling the preference form: I choose many products as my favorite products and I said I'm open about the team I want to join.I even was very open in the  location and start date to get host matching interviews (I negotiated the start date in the interview until both me and my host were happy.) You could ask your recruiter to review your form (there are very cool and could help you a lot since they have a bigger experience).Do a search on the potential team.Before the interviews,  try to find smart question that you are going to ask for the potential host (do a search on the team  to find nice and deep questions to impress your host). Prepare well your resume.You are very likely not going to get algorithm/data structure questions like in the first round. It's going to be just some friendly chat if you are lucky. If your potential team is working on something like machine learning, expect that  they are going to ask you questions about machine learning, courses related to machine learning you have and relevant experience (projects, internship). Of course you have to study that before the interview. Take as long time as you need if you feel rusty. It takes some time to get ready for the host matching (it's less than the technical interview)  but it's worth it of course.

When I was a child, my paediatrician, Dr. H~~~~~, was a Holocaust survivor. He was a tall, thin fellow, with a face marked by privation and suffering; his face was misshapen as though he'd been in terrible accident, and his left cheek was permanently scarred and sunken.  Even as a small child I could see that he had been through something horrible, though the only thing I could imagine was some terrible illness.Eyes are funny things. They're just gristle and jelly with skin around them, after all; but somehow you can see the person's soul in them.  You can see madness; you can see the cold, grey blankness of a psychopath (I've met more of those than most people ever will); you can see suffering.  Or at least I can, frequently; I've seen far more than my fair share of suffering and sufferers in my life.  I can see it in others' eyes; I can see it in my own eyes in the mirror.  I didn't understand this as a child – I had never seen suffering yet, and as far as I'm concerned, having known this man who was in Bergen-Belsen at the liberation, my sufferings, though they're very real and painful to me, are comparatively small. But even then, I could see it in his eyes. I think his eyes were about as full of suffering as any I've ever seen.When I was about six, I remember, he came in to his examining room to see me, and for some reason I don't recall he rolled up his sleeves.  At this point, I knew from nothing about the Holocaust except that it had happened – I knew nothing of death generally, let alone genocide.  I had no idea of the significance of the tattooed numbers, and, innocently, I asked him about them.  Had I known then what I know now, I wouldn't have; but, well, asking questions about anything in front of one's eyes is part of what being six years old is. Most adults have seen children drop bombshells that they have no idea are bombshells.  For good or for ill, I was precocious and had a particular talent in this direction.He didn't get angry, or upset, bless him; I think he probably had many years of this situation arising with blameless children. (And I know that I myself respond very differently and with much less pain when the question "Are you a boy or a girl?" comes from a child. Dogs and cats and horses and even birds are usually much more patient with children than with adults; so why should humans be different?) He looked sad, and told me that he'd been in Bergen-Belsen, and he didn't like to talk about it.  It seems strange to me now, remembering hearing those words with such innocence, completely ignorant of the full horrible meaning they have for me now. Maybe this was the beginning of loss of innocence for me; but I was 6 years old in 1976, and wartime Germany was a different planet and a distant time. I mostly felt sad that I'd said something to make him feel sad. So I apologised, and we went on with the examination.I'd like to think that at the end of the examination, before I went back to the waiting room, and my mother, we had one of those film moments where the precocious and sensitive child does and says exactly the right thing. And maybe it did.  I don't remember, but something like that might have happened, because he seemed much less sad when I left.

There’s a movie, I think it was called Jarhead???the basic premise is they’re sitting in the sandbox (before and during the Gulf War) waiting, waiting, waiting and then somebody goes “the wars over” and the guys were like we never even fired our weapons??? So they shoot their guns in the air and pack up their shit and go home…. the point being that war is a lot of waiting, hurry up-wait, hurry up-wait, etc (sound familiar???)I often run into this problem BC I am a “Gulf War Vet” (technically I am a post desert storm active operations southern watch and operation something else) BUT I was in h.s. When the actual war happened. But in 1995 (AFTER I graduated from h.s. and joined the military) I was sent in under a classified op (still) and people will question my status and medal- it drives me nuts BC to date the op is still classified that I served in and it was a nasty assignment to say the least…You went, you showed up, we “sign a blank check payable to the United States of America offering everything from our service to our lives” you didn’t duck out, hide in Canada, you went, I went (even though I have boobs) your a combat vet- don’t compare yourself to soldier Smith or Officer dipshit…. People seem to be convinced that ALL combat is like Platoon, Tigerland, or Full Metal Jacket and it isn’t…I met this AMAZING CPT a couple years ago, he was the sole survivor of a military aircraft disaster… he’d taken a space A flight to surprise his family (the plane crashed) and he had fingers and body parts that literally cremated while still attached to him… someone in the room asked him if he wished that he didn’t or couldn’t remember the crash; he said he was grateful to remember everything because it would be awful to not remember why and or what had made him the way he was…. BE GRATEFUL you can remember… I have 2–3 journals about being in a hostile fire zone and I picked one up years ago and it was so weird BC it was my writing BUT I had NO idea what I was talking about, it put me into the panic attack from hell. I had to try and find people I served with to fill in the blanks, they wrote letters that literally SHOCKED me. I still have NO recall of the majority of their letters. I found my “war book”, my crew checklists, not a single tiny sliver of recognition…my point is that we aren’t all (thank God) going to have to survive a plane crash, stab somebody with the bayonet attached to your gun, see “the whites of their eyes”, engage in hand to hand combat, take prisoners, etc. SOMETIMES we are just going to hurry up and wait and wait and wait and then pack our shit and go home… YOU SHOWED UP!!! You ARE a combat veteran, you’ve earned that title and that recognition- THANK YOU BROTHER!!!!And IGNORE the ignorant comments that discount you, your service, or your willingness to head to the front line. Even under their “strict definitions” I still count as part of their “group” and YOU AND YOUR SERVICE MATTER! People like you helped keep people like me at the FOB safe. So again THANK ALL OF YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE!!!

“What is one thing you hated when you served in the US armed forces?”David Anderson – this one is sorta directed to you, so pay attention.The day I received my DD-214.This sounds odd, I know, but those of us who have sat waited, reviewed, and received that one important piece of paper can appreciate the finality it represents.There were many things I outright detested while I was on active duty:In general,The ignorance behind the “garrison versus combat” mentality. Whatever happened to “train like you fight?” If it’s not important enough for combat operations, combat training, or deployment to a combat zone, then call it what it is: unnecessary bureaucracy to revel/wallow/root in.The day before deployment. One can never get enough “last ‘fill-in-the-blank’” before leaving, and that impending reality is miserable.Staff duty. Sure, stay up all damn day and night and then drive home… no problem, but if you have less than 8 hours’ rest before driving 3 hours, your leave form is going to be too high of a risk and kicked back.Two certain SFC’s. For some reason – probably a combination of attrition and location of my last duty station – we were plagued by two of the absolute worst individuals to wear the rank of Sergeant First Class. With the exception of a heinous excuse for a S-1 NCOIC in 2005, I have been lucky enough to proudly serve with exceptional SFC’s. Not these two.Aviation specific (not abbreviated… you don’t understand, it’s not meant for you),CCI’s in the rain. In Hawaii. On a bird that is going to straight into phase when it gets to Alaska. “Caked red dirt or rust? Doesn’t matter. It’s fucking raining and I’m putting CPC on wet metal.”“But my last SI/FI never taught me that…” Whiner. He did, but you suck at being a crewchief.“I lost my flight records…” Lame whiner. I already contacted your Stands shop – I worked with the SI back in Campbell. He said you suck at being a crewchief.Piss and bleed. Had to do that twice as a result of actions I had no control over, no matter how much I “practiced advocacy and assertion.”“I wanted sugar cane before I left, but not that bad.” Oahu, 2011. (Source: author.)Jackass MTP’s. Yeah, if the tail rotor PC rods are incorrectly broken down for shipment, there is no possible way for the blades to be unfolded 180 ̊ opposite from where the outboard pressure plate shows… No… but… Okay, sir – you got it (but you could have noticed that before we torqued everything down).Proseal. ‘Nuff said.The lack of institutional consistency. When I started flying, the Cypress crash in 1995 was determined to be the result of an incorrect identification of PCL’s during an emergency procedure (GG rotors were problematic back then). Right before I left, it was described as a “transient droop issue” which made no sense. It seems that people are as determined to recreate events from Flight Fax as Hollywood is in remaking movies that should be just left alone.I could go on and on, but I can feel my blood pressure rising.All that being said, I still maintain that the day I got my DD-214 was the day that I realized that none of the stuff that I thought sucked – and all of the stuff that didn’t - would ever have to be personally experienced again…No more hair-raising dust landings at 3am, with a disk halo bright enough to read by.No more casual waves to the folks in the convertible going south along U.S. Route 280 as we pace them doors open at 200’ while waiting for the “bring it” call during “Rangers in Action.”April 9, 2012 (Source: author.)No more legendary AAR’s where the student’s atrocious grade slip is broken down piece by piece and reassembled into the foundation of an effective crewmember.No more “I think I have that part in my helmet bag” and actually having the exact part needed (we went through a lot of pressure switches and fire detectors in a couple units).No more “ropes out,” “load is off the ground,” “target in sight – engaging,” “we’re glad you didn’t break station – we didn’t have enough to hold back the Third Mongolian Horde that was going to descend upon that village for sure” or “JP is in the water… WHOA! Whale! Cabling up! Cabling up! Cabling up!”Seriously, a humpback-friggin’-WHALE came up for a breath and dove towards the JP right after this picture was taken. Freaky. Oahu, January 29, 2009. (Source: author.)Most importantly, no more camaraderie during the best of times and the worst of times. Good or bad, the experiences brought folks together… regardless of political affiliation, identity politics, or the fact that they managed to make it through 20 years and never learned how to play Spades.Yeah, I miss it, and yeah, that day sucked.

WHOA! You may have a BIG problem. When you started, are you certain you did not fill in a W-4 form? Are you certain that your employer doesn’t have your SS#? If that’s the case, I would be alarmed. Do you have paycheck stubs showing how they calculated your withholding? ( BTW you are entitled to those under the law, and if you are not receiving them, I would demand them….)If your employer is just giving you random checks with no calculation of your wages and withholdings, you have a rogue employer. They probably aren’t payin in what they purport to withhold from you.

It is a little bit on the privacy invasive side but nobody is forcing anyone to fill it out. If your visit to the US is important and you have nothing to hide, you just have to fill it out. If not, you chose not to travel to the USA.

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