A dog by any other name...

Today I was thinking about modular forms and the Riemann surfaces on which they live. This is really very interesting, expecially thinking of Riemann surfaces as ringed spaces. It seems so much nicer to me to consider a complex structure on a topological space X, not as an equivalence class of coordinate coverings of X, but as a sheaf of C-algebras on X satisfying the condition that there is an open covering X= Uu_{i} such that each (u_{i}, O_{X}u_{i}) is isomorphic to a standard ringed space.

It was quite a nice day so late in the afternoon I decided to go for a walk. I always walk in the fields behind my house, so I began on my usual route.

As I approached the old railway bridge, I saw a group of people. So I quickly reduced the sound on my iPod. There are 2 reason why I do this.

1. I don't want people potentially thinking that I have an awful taste in music.
2. I don't want people to hear my music in case they think I think I don't have awful taste in music and am trying to subject them to it.

I have to perform this task discreetly because otherwise people might realise the reasons why I am doing this, thus negating the precautionary measures, and making me look even more pathetic.

Anyway, as I approached I realised it was a group of teenagers. Watching me. Oh god. My ultimate nightmare. Immediately I think "Am I walking normally?" I am always more aware of abnormal walking when people are watching me. I didn't want to look at them too much- but I ended up doing that flickering of the eyes towards and away from them.

I don't understand why teenagers always seem to be so confident. I don't remember being confident. I also don't understand why they always make me feel like I am back in high school- like they're poised ready to lock me in the girls' toilet.

Then as I walked past, the inevitable insult came:

"I thought you had to have a dog to walk here. But then I suppose you are one..."

Oh god. I've heard it. They knew I'd heard it and we all know it's true! Just when I can't feel worse about myself, it happens. Well done, teenagers.

I scurried on past, probably crimson red, mentally planning a new route home to avoid any other possible encounters with people. I hate people, but more than that- I really hate being me.