Nothing fancy, this; but that's okay: dinner was done and on in the table in exactly 15 minutes (disclaimer: I had to go to the supermarket, wash dishes, clean the cast-iron pan, etc—you didn't think it would really be 15 minutes, did you?). Take your tilapia fillets, add salt and pepper and squeeze out a lemon onto both sides. Meanwhile, get your well-seasoned cast iron skillet to medium-high temperature and coat the bottom with olive oil. Lay your fillets down in the pan, away from you to avoid splattering yourself with hot oil. Try to avoid flipping or moving it more than is strictly necessary as it will fall apart when it gets close to done; I'd recommend flipping with a spatula rather than tongs for the same reason.

Cook for three minutes per side, which should give it a golden-brown surface and just-barely-done center; the thinner parts of the fillet will get crispy, but that's part of the appeal. Serve with salad and rice or whatever you want. Some brown crispy bits will be left in the pan which just cry out for deglazing and making into a pan sauce, but I haven't experimented with that just yet.

I promise not to let this site become a recipe blog. I post things like this really more for my own reference (the three minutes per side number is something I tend to forget).

in the smallest of ways. I was an extra (excuse me, "Background Artist", as they like to be called now) in the Twentieth Century Fox movie Marley and Me while it was being filmed in Fort Lauderdale. Observe closely the scenes in the Sun-Sentinel offices and you might just catch a brief glimpse of the back of my head, say. If you want your money back because the movie made you cry or disappointed you, address your demands elsewhere: I just stood where they told me to stand. All I added to the picture was a handful of photons. Of course I'll still get the blu-ray disc when it comes out, if only to freeze-frame through the scenes I was in!

I recently created a subdomain on my Mediatemple DV service, but for various reasons, I wanted to have a separate user responsible for that subdomain, with FTP and shell access. The user can be created along with the subdomain in Plesk as normally. Unlike the creation of users associated with domains, however, there is no option in Plesk to give this subdomain user shell access.

Fixing it is trivial if you have root access. Just edit /etc/passwd, find the line that starts with the username you just created, then change the last field of that line from /bin/false to /bin/bash (or whatever shell you like). This will allow you to su to the subdomain user or login via SSH, as you prefer. Easy, I know, but I noticed the option wasn't present in Plesk and well, maybe this tip will be helpful to somebody else out there.

I am no longer the only one in my circle reporting to the Internet. Fellow FAU electrical engineer and roboticist Melissa Morris has recently launched her site with a name I wholeheartedly endorse: melissatronic.com! Visit for information about her robotics research and other engineering projects.

In the interest of saving my soul through good works I have recently taken in a family of unfortunates: two lost kittens! They are street cats, brother and sister, 6 weeks old and a shade over a pound each. I have given them the unlikely Estonian names of Miuks (the girl) and Murakas (the boy).

Murakas is all black with blue eyes and is bigger and more adventurous, leading the way into all sorts of danger. He also sleeps a great deal and seems to be visibly growing by the day.

Miuks has white paws and white whiskers, and green and blue eyes. She has a bit more of a nervous temperament, hopping into the air on spindly legs when alarmed, but she purrs like a motorboat when petted and enjoys chomping on her brother's tail.

It is an open question as to which one will be the most trouble.

Both kittens have their first shots, de-worm-ings, and de-flea-ings; they are using the litter box regularly and in already disturbing volume (probably a consequence of the six square meals a day they require). When not locked in furious combat or spelunking in search of ever more unlikely crevices to hide in, they sleep on each other's heads in a fuzzy little pile.

I promise not to let this site become a catblog.