I think I am slowly finding my pace. Here is my record so far:

4/13/2009: averaged 14 min/mile (did 3 miles)
4/23/2009: averaged 11.52 min/mile (in the first 4 miles), averaged 13 min/mile in total 5 miles (walk the 5th mile). I
5/4/2009: averaged 11.42 min/mile (in the first 4 miles), averaged 12 min/miles (in the first 5 miles). In total, did 6 miles (averaging 13.2 min/mile when run the first 5 miles and walk the 6th mile).

My understanding so far in running long distance:
*** very important to clear mind of everything. Although there is a TV screen in front of me, I don’t watch it. It is of foremost importance to not see anything and just focus.

1st mile, very slow — pace 13 or 14 min/ mile
2nd, 3rd, 4th mile, gaining pace, full power — pace is 10 min/ mile

(In my mind, while doing 2-4th mile, was screaming “CRANK IT CRANK IT!!!!!!” I believe this is what they call runner’s high)

5th mile — pace is 13 mil / hour….feel like the back of my knee is bleeding. Strange pain in strange places.

Between 5th – 6th mile — Hey, I feel like I can do more!

It is during 5th – 6th mile when I felt that, yes, I can do 10, because the “CRANK IT CRANK IT” voice was reemerging during those miles.

Input cost to cheescake:

$1.50 crust

$1.30/2 milk

$2.40/2 sourcream

$6.00/6 vanilla extract

$1.79 cream cheese

$1.50/3 eggs

Total = $6.65

Not including time 1/2 hour for making the product and 1/4 hour of washing dishes.  (What is the cost per hour of a cheap grad student?)

utility from a successful product:  infinite.

An Eli cheese cake is sold for $12.00

I should still make my own cheesecake.

I request the Merriam-Webster dictionary add the following words to the dictionary, given the phenomenal rise of the reference to the word “Obama” in many popular situations:

1. Obamaly (adverb). This word is used in a situation to describe the merit of working hard and not giving up. The origin of this word comes from the part of President Elect Obama’s life when he tried to run for office the first time and failed miserably. Then the next time he ran, luck struck and his opponent dropped out due to some sexual scandal. An example of a mundane situation where the word applied: Having failed her driver license examination again after 3 tries, Mary told her mother that she is going to quit. Mary’s mother then said, “You got to look at this obamaly – he didn’t give up when he failed his first run for office in Illinois, then the next time he tried he succeeded due to luck!”

2. Oba-Man (slang). Proper pronounciation requires a strong emphasis on the “ba”. This slang can be used as an outburst (similar to when one says, “Oh Man!”) to express camaraderie to our “brothers” and “sisters”. (by “brothers” and “sisters”, I mean black dudes and chicks.) This word should be used in similar spirit and tone as “Way to go GIRL!”. Here is an example of a fitting situation for the use of this slang: Your car was impounded by the police and you found yourself be serviced by a grumpy black lady at the car pound window, who wants to charge you an outrageous amount of fines. So you say, “Oba-Man! I should have paid for my parking tickets long ago. But President Obama didn’t pay his either so I thought I didn’t need to.” Hopefully the use of this word will lead to a special treatment of you by the black lady.

Another situation where this slang could be used is when you found yourself walking in a shady black neighborhood at night, and a couple black dudes were walking shadily toward you. As they tried to rob you, you say, “Hey, Oba-Man!” Hopefully the use of this word will lead to a shared sense of camaraderie with your to-be muggers.

3. baracke (verb). Conjugation of this words are: baracking, baracked. This word describes the action where one suddenly experience an overnight meteoric rise to fame. An example of the use of this verb is: That high school student used to be a loser in his high school, until he baracked after giving an amazing speech at the student council election.

4. obamy (adj). This word describes the feeling that you can do ANY thing in the world as long as you work hard. It originates from after the historical election of Barack Obama, when all across the United States, mothers begin to tell their children (especially mothers in South Chicago) that, “Look, if Obama can become the US president, then you can be anything you want to.” A situation where this adjective applies is: I was feeling obamy about my 2nd year research paper yesterday night, but now I am feeling Paliny. endnote: Paliny is also a new adjective introduced by the 2008 US election. It describes a situation when people have low expectations on you.

Here is another word suggested by a friend:

Palin (noun).   A seemingly right and good choice but turning out poor and devastating result.  Peter gave me a Palin when he suggested me to buy the Yugo at a big discount.

Yesterday I went to my first Halloween Party as an adult. To summarize — it is one of the funnest party I have attended for a long time. Several people attended the party with a mask. I could have been speaking to someone I regularly see in the econ department, but I would not know it. Some familiar faces which should be recognized at one became unfamiliar to me. That people are able to conceal their face behind a mask, or even a thin layer of powder (in the case of the zombies) somehow made the communication easier.

Furthermore, yesterday was the day for people to showcase their creativity. Each person’s choice of custom actually gave me a strong sense of themselves. My favorite people are those who can crack themselves up, who in this occasion would dress in ridiculous customs that made fun of themselves. For example: a shady man in a woman with gigantic breast suit. My rambuctious classmate who put himself in a box that is labelled “a gift to woman from god.”

Then there was this very small subset of women who I truly admire — they managed to combine creativity with style and elegance. Example: my classmate was a mona lisa who carries around a frame so she can pose in the picture. (Now I believe she can truly produce amazing research if she can do this sort of merge in academic work!) A woman who claims she is a pencil — dressed in extravagent white spagetti strapped straight dress and a cone hat.

Then there was this subset of people who would want to use this occasion to demonstrate solidarity: 2 friends who would dressed as Mexicans with large Mexican hats. A couple who would dressed as PC and Mac. 2 good friends who dressed as twins. A bunch of friends dressed as zombies.

Then, there were those who obviously didn’t care or have time to care and made minimum effort on the costum — a hat, some random things thrown together, a random mask, even graduation gown — just overall without any coherent concept. But occasionally, you’ll get an outlier in this set who managed to blend nonchalance with statement – making. For example, a classmate wore this absolutely ridiculously LARGE Afro wig.

Then, as in every Halloween, there were girls who would use this occasion to be slutty: Marily Monroe, Superwoman. Yesterday, sexy Bumbo Bees were a hit. They were buzz around the floor. The counterpart for men were: Indiana Jonese, vampires.

But overall, just because the theme of Halloween is to express yourself in an alternative way, people managed to show a part of themselves which normally wouldn’t be shown. Consequently, people who normally wouldn’t communicate with each other find the reason to communicate, and people who already knew each other got to see each other in new lights.

In this sense, I love Halloween.

P.S. I was a voting machine yesterday. My custom is 2 pieces of white card board which reflected the actual Virgina touch-screen machine ballot in 2008. I also made a hat which says “Please Touch” — touching the screen, not the hat. (but many people turned out to touch the hat, and completely missed the point). For those of you who went to Berkeley, remember that “Happy-happy” man who always protested at Bancroft and Telegraph? Well, I looked just like him.

P.S.S. Although I lost all my keys in the party (bad!), I am still very glad I went, because I suspect after I finished graduate school I would not have the chance to go to these sort of parties — rowdy parties attended by well educated (they are all related to the econ or GSB department) yet also wild people who had a sense of fun. The fact that the attendents are mostly non-Americans (I think latinamericans and europeans are MUCH FUNNER than Americans….as for Chinese, they just don’t have ANY sense of fun. Americans’ sense of fun always ended with making out and dirty dancing. But latinamericans/europeans have fun and don’t do the above mentioned of the Americans) makes the party even funner. This is the part of my grad school experience that I would always cherish. As for my favorite people? Definitely Mexicans, Brazilians, and Portuguese.

I gave the department of revenue a look of glossy eyes.  I gave the currency exchange cashier weepy eyes.  I gave the person serving at the payment center  a look of eyes threatened by flowing tears.

The normally unfriendly people suddenly became soft and caring.

I have begun working since Monday–in the most bureaucratic institution I ever worked in.

It is disgustingly bureacratic. 

As an example, I still haven’t received my computer, since my security clearance has not gone through yet even 3 days after I arrived.   (It takes them about 7 days to process my finger prints)  And I still haven’t received my ID card, and was told that since I haven’t received my ID card yet I need to escorted everywhere I go in the building.  Today I asked to be escorted to the vending machine to buy an expansive chocolate bar.   I cannot even been seen to be using someone’s computer.    Well, they have successfully instilled fear in me.  Today when I found myself accidentally in the “investigations” section of the floor, which houses long and deep rooms with filing paper cabinets, I freaked out and ran.

It stuck me that while private companies–and even non-profits — do maximize some sort of profit function, government agencies TRULY do not.  They maximize the loss function.  Seriously.  Otherwise, with me there (I assume I am an asset), why are they not maximizing my use by matching me with working capital?  All I produce now is consuming their excellent coffee (not even paying!)  Currently my marginal product of capital is INFINITE. 

Due to zero capital to work with, I substitute it with my labor, working on something that is not my comparative advantage in Chicago but apparent is in there– theory.

I talked to several people there and the ones I potentially will work with.  The issues are all interesting.  But some of their reduced form tendencies are highly disturbing.  I was surprised by my own very strong negative sentiments about the reduced form stuff.   Frankly I felt a bug in my stomach when I heard what I was expected to do.  It was as if someone to perform a surgery on an old 95-year-old woman with cancer at the terminal stage.

Call it the result of Chicago brainwash.  But honestly I don’t see other ways of research other than structural.  I mean, one can first run a couple regressions based on intuition to get some idea of where to proceed, but ULTIMATELY, the research has to come down to structural.  The talk about “specification issue” when they are doing reduced form strikes me as completely pretentious. 

TOTAL DISGUST WAS WHAT I FELT, THAT IS— UNTIL 3pm TODAY.

Until 3pm today, I was reading a bunch of theory papers, to reconcile some of those reduced form approaches.  What struck me — like Muhammad Ali punching my stomach — is that some of these reduced form equations are, in fact, justified exactly by theory!  (UNBEKNOWST to the perpetrator of the reduced form)

The question is:  does the theory precede the reduced form equation, or vice versa?  The order matters, because the reduced form equation could have been the motive behind the development of the theory if the reduced form equation precedes justification by theory.  It is more natural to think that theory guides the reduced form approach — but often it is not the case as the situation is ad hoc and the person just decide to throw in some variables on the right hand side.

When I was studying for the trade prelim, I discovered that the theoretical justification for the GRAVITY EQUATIONS came AFTER the reduced form equation.  In fact, 20 years later!  The gravitiy equations (an equation that predict trade flows between two countries) work so well that people decide to build a theory behind it.  And VIOLA, following the steps of people maximizing their utility they indeed found an equation that matches the equation that reduced form trade economists have been using for years.   Is this not amazing?  And the theoretical model isn’t even complicated.  It’s straightforwrad, and completely natural.

Following this amazement, I was temporarily in awe.  Can it be that mathematical laws indeed do govern the behavior of humans and the gravity equation is just one of these laws that economists were able to discover?  That even though humans are highly complicated beings, their behaviors are governed by law of mathematics?  That when God created human beings, he was using one of these formulas?

This FAITH in that there exists mathematical laws governing the behavior of human beings is what made me a staunch believer in structural methods.

Therefore, I was shocked during L’s dinner when all the other people (all econ phD) said that they don’t believe that math can be used to describe human behavior.  Shocked.  Isn’t that belief supposed to form our trust in what we learned at Chicago?

Of course, now my amazement is lessened, realizing that some theorists could have been influenced by the result of the reduced form.  That the structural equation is not indeed as pure as it seems.

Still, the theoretical development of the gravity equation amazes me.

So at 3pm today, I discovered that some reduced form they are doing are indeed justified theory, unbeknowst to them.   After the shock, my disgust with reduced form was somewhat abated.  You see, for every trade, there are masters.  Some people have indeed MASTERED the art of reduced form.  And it is an art.  They got it so right, that unbeknowst to them, the specification is indeed justified by theory.

The conclusion is this:  I have a newfound doubt about my disgust with reduced form. 

That was a huge digression from my update about my summer job so far.

Now back to the topic—

So what was I saying? Yeah, so, despite the things with reduced form,  I am still having a blast at work. 

Because their is yet a silver lining in this mumbo jumbo.   I console myself by telling myself that if being able to work in highly interesting things mean I have to also do highly uninteresting things, then I’ll do it.  Because I do get to work on highly interesting things with two highly interesting researchers.  I felt my blood BOILING again.  

So even though my marginal product of capital is very high right now, and my marginal product of labor is very low — the fact that my marginal product of labor is very low is very exciting. 

Do I sound like I am speaking in codes?  Because I am.  I am afraid that these people google me and say I break my security clearance.  (In reality who wastes their effort prosecuting some useless dude like me?)

In short, I both very much enjoyed my job right now, despite the inconveniences with capital.

Hudson Institute, our neighbor, has these gym classes during lunch hours.  Today I went to the yoga one.  You see, it’s quite fun.

Never, ever, ever give up.

I think Winston Churchhill said that.

That motto comes true again today.  It is the ultimate truth whose wisdom overwhelms me everytime it helped me.  It did it last year.  It did it this year.

 I mean, when you are really really on the very verge of giving up, but instead you hold on by that one single strand of hair, the fruit of hanging on amazes me. 

This only applies to situation when really, you are on the end of the limit.

So it turns out that writing a novel can be like writing an economic paper.

In the last post, I blogged about this 96-pages paper on growth and education quality, whose results derived primary by regressions.  Today as I was sitting in my writing class, it dawned on me that my little novel is a literary counterpart to the 96-pages economics paper about regressions.

I can see there are two broad types of economic papers:  on one hand there is that short, concise, but beautiful/elegant theoretical paper; the other is some long paper on regressions–which if carefully or artistically executed, can be in itself a nice piece of academic work that will propel you to stardom.  (i.e. think Steve Levitt, Emily Oster, Rajan and Zingales)

Novels, similarly, can be distinguished by this fine line.  There is those long-ass epic novels of 1000 pages.  Prime example is Tolstoy.  Then there are these short works of fiction that deliver a stunning/disturbing/memorable/structurally elegant story with the minimum amount of words.  Such as Hemingway. 

So which school of style do I belong to?  I am very afraid that I am more susceptible to the million regressions style.  Note that I use the word “susceptible.”  That means it doesn’t mean that I am a Tolstoy.  But I sure as hell is a dedicated worker.  In economics, I am like the author who write that education study I cited in the previous entry.  (This thought stirs up some uncomfortable feeling in my stomach).  That’s all it says.  Although I long for the minimalist style, in writing and in economics. 

Today in the writing class, the professor said, with regarding to my story, “This will be a 700 pages novel.” 

Shit.

Earlier this week WSJ features an article that says math and science skills contribute to growth.  The study that the article cited finds that if US had managed to boost its math and sciene skill to the level of the top performing countries (Finland, Hong Kong, and South Korea) by 2000, its GDP would be 2 percent higher today and 4.5 points higher in 2015.  The study means to say that economic growth comes about with education only conditional on that the education is in math and sciences. 

How did the authors get that number?  You can bet there are regressions involving GDP and education years adjusting the education years by quality (i.e. whether it’s math/science related). 

What would Professor Star Wars have said to the authors of this study?  I imagine he would say, perhaps, crappy research (sorry!  But that’s just my imagination).  He would want to see a model explicitly showing how math/science education link to growth, where humanities subject do not.  Like you have skilled vs. nonskill labor, you want to show skilled and nonskill human capital, and show why the nonskill human capital is not contributing to growth.  (Why do you have such a large nonskill human capital sector in the United States?)  For example, you want to show how skill human capital improves innovation or technology adoption, while non skill human capital does not.   And then in equilibrium, compute the constant share of high skill and low skill human capital.  Alternatively, you may want to stick this “z” variables in front of human capital, which captures quality, and put some sort of process on this “z”, then work out the implications.  Then you fit the data to the model.  By doing all this, you can see actually what does increase the high skill capital, and you can see what parameters matter.  Sure enough regressions show the relation, but what exactly is the quantitative effect?  Oh it varies across countries?  Why?  Writing the model will tell you how.  It may not get you the quantitative results that are the same as your zillions of regressions on 67 regressors, but it’ll make you think clearer.  (instead of being more confused after reading 96 pages about how adding different regressors change things)

However, this is a nice empirical results.  It is true that economists have all along been using variables like average school years in growth regressions.  The whole paper that went on about the measurement issues with schooling.  I am very amazed by the kind of dedication that some people have for writing such a paper, which has altogether 96 pages.  I don’t supposed that the WSJ reporter actually churned through the 96 pages before writing that article.

Some notes I took from the paper:

-Sala-i-Martin ran growth regressions on 67 expanatory variables for 88 countries and found primary schooling to be most significant.

-It is found the each additional school years has greater positive association for non-OECD countries than for OECD countries (diminishing returns for school years, non-quality adjusted?)  But not after controlling for openness and property rights.  WHY WHY WHY?  Write a model! (not me…sorry, I can’t write one….I’m just imagining Professor Star Wars).

This painting was done by the French Painter Camille Pissarro in 1895, titled “Young Woman Bathing Her Feet In the Brook.”  It is exhibited in the Impressionalistic section of the Art Institute.  I picked this painting to “allow a story to unfold in my mind” as I stare at it (my writing class assignment).  Then I took out my laptop, and began typing in front of it, giggling as I typed.  Why?  You’ll see why.

Here is my story so far.   Probably rated R.  (I should re-read Nabokov’s Lolita)

                                                                     ***

There she is.  That slut, tempting me.  Her small toes, wet.  How I envy those small shoes where her toes touch.  Oh how she tempts me.  Now that enviable handkerchief in those soft white hands is brushing against her white legs.  Let me be that fish in the stream, to swim where those exquisite toes touch.  Or the pebbles in the stream, where that white vision rests.  She at the brook, a vision of a forest fairy. 

Her long, white neck, that of a swan.  She leans forward now.  Her collar now widening, now gently opened, now revealing that hollow in her neck.  If only I could put my finger in that hollow.  She is brushing that white handkerchief against those soft, white legs. Such exquisite motion!  How unfairly nature has endowed her! Now her curls are falling over her shoulder.  Those brown curls.  She is lifting her dress above her knee.  Those exquisite knees!  So pure, so white.  I wish I were part of the stream, then I would linger at her feet, passing through, touching, brushing, caressing. 

Is she looking my way?  No she is not.  Oh I beg, please look my way.  But look at that wonderful expression of concentration on her healthy cheeks, concentrating on those exquisite toes.  Now she is pulling her hair back to tie it up.  But a strand struggles off! It falls before her face, the tip of it teasing her bare, white shoulders.  Let me be the one who will pull it back behind her ears!  Her white petticoat, so white, clinging to her.  Her cheeks, flushed.  No it cannot be shyness.  That slut.  That minx.  That vixen.  How could she not know her power.  Her hands are now moving up from the toes to her knee.   Now the dress is above her knees.  She brushes it aside.  Let me be an ant, then I’ll crawl onto her dress. 

I know what I can do.  I can reveal myself, push away the bush in front of me, and step out from the shadows.  She would look up, she would pull down her dress in her false modesty.  She would utter her joke of a scream.  She would try to run away, barefooted, but not really running away.  I will then easily grab her by the back of her neck, and make her lean in my arms.  I will snatch away her white handkerchief, and take her exquisite toes in my finger.  She would gasp.  But that slut, she must want it. 

But I shall not make a sound.  I want to stay where I am, where she is, and look at the vision of this vixen. 

But no, that damnable twig on the ground!  Curse it!  Why does it make a sound. 

The exquisite vision of whiteness disappeared behind that forsaken red cloth.  Noooo, that beautiful sight.  She is standing up, in her siren’s voice, “Who is that?” 

But I shall not reveal myself.  I am staying as quiet as the shadows in the forest.  I am a shadow under the sun.  I am not moving.  I am staying exactly where I am.  I will be a mouse.  I will be part of the leaves.  I will be the quietest one here.  I will be the twig on the ground.  No she will not see me.  She will not know.

Now she is sitting down again.  But I must not look further.  The wind will betray me.  The forest will betray me. I must be a shadow.

And she shall not know.  At least not yet.  In time, she will know.

Oh yes, she will know.  But how much she does not know now.

Tonight, she will go back home, and find out from her Dear Papa that he had a visitor this afternoon.  That senile old man.

Her Dear Papa will tell her that Mrs. Clark had requested her company for tea the next day at three at the Forest Manor.  “The owner of the grandest house in town?  The lady who owns five carriages?” She would exclaim in excitement, her pupils dilated, her vixen mind working. Papa would say, “Yes, dear.” 

She will be flattered.  Yes she will be, that conceited little vixen.  She will beg her Dear Papa to let her go.   Her old man will say yes.

She will come the next day, in her feathers and lace, and the kindly Mr. Campbell (dear oldbutler!) will open the door for her, and ask her to wait in the drawing room.  She will open the drawing room door, but instead of Mrs. Clark finds someone else there.  She will feign shocked.  She will say, “Mr. Elliot, what a surprise to see you here.”  Her exquisite toes will begin to take retreating steps from the room.  But then the room door will not open.  Dear reliable Mr. Campbell!  Dear reliable Mrs. Clark!

Wait….but who is there now?  Who is that that my vixen is running to?  Who is that cursed fellow who is touching the blessed hollow of my vixen’s neck.  It is that Blacksmith from the shop!  She and her bare feet are running to him.  No!  My white handkerchief!