Spring Semester Summary ’13

I have been told many times in many ways that sleep is one of the most important tasks. I’ve written about how important it is many times. This past semester I neglected it and became a zombie. That wasn’t good. Beyond that fundamental lesson, I also re-learned some other things in the past few months.

• Scientific papers are really interesting. But only if you have already read about three on the same subject and just need to skim the introduction. By that point, you know the jargon and can actually focus on the cool discovery. Before that point…it’s a nightmare.
• Because it is a nightmare to read scientific papers, you should not procrastinate. Indeed, simply skimming the paper is better than doing it “right”, because that way you might pick up some of the jargon. Obviously, however, procrastinators do not learn from nagging (or teacher’s warnings would yield results) nor do they learn by example (or procrastinators would not remain procrastinators), but maybe they learn from other people’s examples. Allow me to mention the twelve-hour take-home test and the night-before presentation of this past semester and the five-hour ODE homework and the two-day massive essay of the semester before as well as the people who waited until the end of the last semester of senior year to write their thesis.
• Most importantly, try to have fun with it. Because if someone is just in a career for the money/prestige, it won’t pay nearly enough for the headache. And if being in school isn’t somehow a means to an end, where that end is either a dream job (which you will enjoy, and which will use the things you are learning now, no?) or enjoyment of the new found knowledge, then why are you even in school?
• No matter how many times I learn these things, I always ignore them and end up a frustrated sleep-deprived mess. My professors do their utmost to reassure me that it’s never as bad as you think it is. Or perhaps it is, but freaking out never helped anyone.

I’ll admit that wasn’t a summary so much as a list of un-learned lessons, but I’m sort of trying to learn them. This past semester I took Physical Biochemistry, Instrumental Analysis, Chemical Thermodynamics and World History I. The semester before was actually a bit harder and involved Advanced Organic Chemistry, Analytical Chemistry, Quantum Mechanics, and Ordinary Differential Equations. I will now compare my classes in the fall and spring semesters in excruciating detail.

1. Advanced Organic Chemistry was meant to be a laid-back sort of class. We could have notes in the tests, but there was a great deal we had to figure out on our own using “chemical logic”. I don’t feel that I was very good at it. Physical Biochemistry was similar, although there were a lot of papers out there we could look up to figure out why proteins fold the way they do. Both also introduced a lot of biology which I had been avoiding since high school. Surprisingly, however, that was really helpful, making both classes really interesting. And from the sound of my Physical Biochemistry teacher’s dark murmurings, I’m going to need to know biology as well as math, physics, and chemistry to do drug delivery research. Maybe I’ll actually be a halfway decent researcher.
2. Analytical Chemistry was actually taught by one of the most laid-back teachers I have ever met. He flew through the material, and always seemed to assume that we were a great deal smarter than we actually were, so I was exposed to a great many things, but without the depth I would have liked. Instrumental Analysis was like a second semester of analytical chemistry, only it was taught by one of the more detail-oriented professors in the department (who is also the Physical Biochemistry instructor) so we got a focused description of certain aspects of electronics and lasers and spectrometry, it was rather an interesting contrast, especially as the laid-back analytical professor taught the lab in a sort of Socratic-independent-experimental manner. I discovered that I really am rather interested in electron transitions, but I almost felt it should have been much harder. Perhaps that is where independent study comes in. (My Structure and Bonding professor for Fall ’13/ new research PI heard me say this, cackled with delight and gave me the textbook he will be using so I can study over the summer.)
3. Quantum Mechanics and Chemical Thermodynamics were both taught by my original PI, but they were very different. Quantum exposed me to the math of electron transitions before I actually knew what it was for (but was rather cool in a confusing sort of way). Thermodynamics was very specific about what the math was used for, but it also became evident to me that we were looking at very simplified systems. Quantum was also simplified. The mind boggles.
4. ODE and History present an interesting contrast. ODE was a pain in the neck. I am positive that it was simplified to fit into one semester, but it was also amazingly awesome and interesting. The professor, who was a good lecturer, made the homework a pain in the neck by using Web-assign, which gives no partial credit whatsoever. And he gave homework for which we were not allowed to use mathematica or maple. For example, we had undetermined coefficients problems involving the third derivative of two or three sets of the cosine and sine of expressions of things like (2x +4)3x. Each time you take the derivative of a term like that, you get an additional term [For cos(2x^2+12x), you get -(4x+12){sin(2x^2+12x)}.] so if you had five terms originally, and derive three times, you get 5*2^3=40 terms if you have not messed up somewhere. Anyway, it was a pain. History, on the other hand was taught by a sweet lady who told stories, always let us out fifteen minutes early, and gave multiple-choice tests. I wish I could have heard more of her stories.

So that was not only my spring semester but my fall semester as well. It’s been fun, if a bit dramatic on my part. And if you made it through that long description of my year without feeling an urge to kill me, then you might be a chemistry major. Come join me!

Weakness

*Possible spoilers for Hulk, The Avengers, Iron Man, and Captain America below*

Sometimes the things which hurt us the most are also potentially our greatest sources of strength. Take the Hulk. He has an anger/pulse management problem. Unfortunately, for most of his namesake movie, he doesn't actually deal with it. He gets a wrist pulse meter and spends the rest of the movie trying to avoid fighting anyone. In the Avengers, he doesn't do much better. However, toward the end of the movie reveals that in order to control his powers he is always angry. Yes, yes, he is. But, as witness the scene where he loses control and attempts to kill everyone, this is not the ideal solution. Did he never consider learning how not to get angry, or even how to control himself when he *is* a hulking green rage monster? (This also leads me to question whether becoming a green giant actually makes him angry if what triggered it was an elevated pulse due to physical activity and what the ramifications of that are–but that is neither here nor there)

In almost every superhero movie, the protagonist faces a villain which he can only defeat by subjugating a part of himself. (Or, perhaps, in the "course* of defeating the villain, he subjugates a part of himself.) For example, after his abduction, Tony Stark loses some of his narcissistic flair (huge guns, girls, etc.) that made him such a huge society figure, but it is only because he has such tremendous self confidence (and pride) that he *can* play the role of Iron Man. Captain America, on the other hand, loses some of his willingness to be a perfect artificial representation of truth, justice, and the American Way in an acting troupe in order to be an imperfect real representation of these things.

Weakness is just unrefined strength. For example, I am rather insecure about my skills as an organic chemist. But the fact that I care speaks volumes. It would be a true weakness if I was neither aware nor cared. But, because effort is the first step toward greatness, it is not true weakness. Since the end of the school year, I went through a brief period of mild depression. It was terrifying to watch myself, not because I was sad, but because I did not actually care. A year ago, I would probably have said that my greatest weakness was emotion. Indeed, emotional outbursts are not mature and they have delayed some of my important homework, but how beautiful it is to actually care! I have missed being able to sympathize and to write, and missed the natural instinct to treat people with respect. So no, emotion is not a true weakness; it is simply another unrefined strength which may, like the Hulk sometimes destroy things.

'But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.'–II Corinthians 12:9

Social Energy

It’s interesting that I only get the urge to write at midnight, when I have homework, or when I generally don’t have the time to do so. Even so, if I only got the urge to write and followed it half the time I got on the internet to procrastinate, the archives of this blog would be larger, and I would be much better at writing. You see, getting on the internet for long periods when I ought to be going to bed has become a trend, but oddly, it does not relax me in any way, and eats up large portions of the time I reserved for extra sleep by ending my study sessions a few hours early.

I couldn’t figure out why I want to sit at the computer for so long. The hypnotic effect of the blue computer screen light *can’t* be that strong. Then a friend linked to this cartoon on understanding the social life of the introverted.

When I saw this, I gained a sudden understanding of the actions of certain “antisocial” people, and wished I’d seen this years ago. But what really resonated with me was the implication that introverts are responsible for all the new social energy. If this is true, extroverts must sponge off them or survive on some ancient energy source passed down through the ages by socializing extroverts. That *can’t* be accurate. If that were the case, extroverts would be really desperate–and shy extroverts like me would be terminally depressed.

My theory is anyone can make energy–extroverts just happen to be really lazy about it, and would rather sponge off introverts or create new energy by meeting people. I personally create energy by working on an immense number of crafts (a la this summer), praying, and writing. But when I’m drained from studying, the first place I instinctively look for energy is from interaction with other people–on the internet! The only problem with this plan is that everyone else on the internet is *also* looking for validation and attention, and the internet leeches tend to suck more out of me than they put in.

The reason I spend so much time on the internet turned out to be the classical explanation: I’m lazy. However, I’m not lazy for wanting some time off, only for not turning to the right things to get back on my feet. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s knitting that wants doing.

Just Good Enough

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of amazing, challenging things to learn. It’s a little bit intimidating. I don’t feel that I’m learning as much as I ought or being as diligent as I ought. And every time I turn around, I read about a famous person who went to Princeton, or taught here, or dropped out. And I don’t feel like I can measure up. But then I remember it’s not a competition. It’s a collaboration.

There will always be someone smarter than you. This can be depressing, but I look at it another way. There is no smartest person. Unless someone out there has already written my thesis (which might have happened already) each person brings their own unique blend of interests to the game. And each person comes to the game at an entirely different point, meaning that everyone has something different to work with. Even if someone has already written my thesis, and done it better, I can always build on their work and, with the help of their work, learn more about the subject than anyone else has ever known. Being of average intelligence also means that there will always be people with whom I can collaborate so I don’t have to solve all my problems myself.

Besides, I’m not here to be smart. I’m here to bring glory to God. And maybe I can do that by bringing my own perspective to the collaboration I hope to have while I’m here. If I can do that, my work will good enough. Would it sound more impressive if all my work was done solo? Sure. Will I get further if I talk to people from different backgrounds and expertise? Definitely. You don’t want the success of a “collaboration” riding on your shoulders. Trust me. And if you surround yourself with people who are smarter (even if their smartness makes you feel stupid) you will get actual collaboration.

Just a thought. It’s beautiful here.

Things I’m Learning about Learning

I’m spending the summer at Princeton with a lot of really fun people. But where I’m learning isn’t as important as what I’m learning, and I’m learning a lot. Or at least, I’m trying to learn a lot. There is much I do not understand, and much of what I am learning (and relearning) is unrelated to what I’m studying.

1. Stop faking. If I pretend I know what is going on when I don’t, I put myself at a disadvantage. People will assume that I understand, and later, it will be harder to ask for help. I’m going to try to ask more questions. They can’t answer them if someone doesn’t ask them.

2. Ideas are everywhere. Other fields I don’t know much about have really good ideas. A lot of people are just happy to explain what they’re doing. It doesn’t count as plagiarism or stealing if they help you apply their idea to your own field. It’s called collaboration.

3. Literature is important. Scientific papers reveal what other people have already tried to do, and can provide ideas as well as warning. Brevity and clarity are important. Operating manuals for machinery are pretty boring, however.

4. Have fun. One of my supervisors recommended a voluntary project in addition to our assigned project. People who enjoy what they do tend to be better at it. It has to be voluntary. Relaxing without an extra project is also useful because it allows me to be more productive during work times than I would be if I worked all the time.

This “genius millionaire playboy philanthropist” sounds suspiciously like Buckaroo Banzai.

5. The Curve is steep. It’s really hard to absorb physics (and chemistry) on the fly. So I don’t beat myself up that I don’t ask more questions, that I find user’s manuals boring, or even that I’m scared and out of ideas for a side project. Or that when I relax, I spend hours reading web comics. People do not change in a day, but day by day. Likewise, a discipline is not conquered in a day. Unless you’re Ironman.

Maria Hill: When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?

Tony Stark: Last night.

~The Avengers(2012)

Simplicity: 4077

I don’t dress up much. This has been exacerbated (I love that word.) by my discovery that I can wear loose-fitting men’s clothing. Nevertheless, I had the need to dress up impressed on me by a summer internship at Princeton and by my mother. So I made a Nice Shirt. Then I made two more. I shall probably make more before June rolls around, but here are my impressions of Simplicity 4077.

Overview

The shirt is overwhelmingly “cute”. It is a nicely fitting shirt and works best if one is not well-endowed in front. I like this pattern a lot because the construction is very intuitive. Many patterns use a combined collar and front facing piece that is both complicated to cut and sew and uses a lot of cloth. This pattern has separate facing and collar pieces, and construction is straightforward. I lengthened the pattern a good three inches at the bottom on my second and fourth renditions of the pattern, and two and a half inches the second time I made it. (I made it the first time last summer and don’t remember how much length I gave it then). Overall, then, this is a quick and pretty shirt.

Darts

It is really hard to make the darts stop at the right place if one starts the seam from the bottom of the shirt. Often the left and right darts aren’t the same length, and they have to be fixed. The shirt actually looks better on me when I make the darts longer. (I did this on shirts 2 and 3.) To guarantee the darts are the same length, start at the top.

Sleeves

The elbow-length sleeve in view D looks really pretty. It’s kind of uncomfortable. The cuff is easy to attach: just one seam.  However, single seam allows the cuff to flap around a bit. The gathers on the short sleeve in view E are supposed to be just on top, as in shirts 1, 3, and 4 and make the sleeve really poofy. The sleeve is more floaty if there are some gathers on the side, as in shirt 2. In shirt 3, I lengthened the sleeve in view E by three inches, but I’m not sure if I like the look very much.

Collar

The collar is too long for the neck edge and continues past the beginning of the facing where it is supposed to stop–and it’s a good thing. In shirt 1 and 3, I made the collar fit to the beginning of the facing, and there is a gap between the ends of the collar. In shirts 2, and 4, I initially basted across in the inside facing, and then rip-stitched, and sewed the collar between the facing and the shirt. Where the facing ended, I cut the seam allowance so it would fold up into the collar, folded the inside edge of the collar over it, and top-stitched as  in pattern instructions.

Now having made the pattern four times, I moved on to other things.

All pictures taken with a Canon PowerShot IE, using mostly the same model. 

Why I Don’t Write Thank You

I contend that picking out stationery is probably one of the most important tasks that has ever fallen to mankind. One normally associates stationery with little old ladies scrawling their illegible best wishes on card they have culled out of their vast stock. Few people consider that older women are some of the wisest people around. (See RED.)

I realized this recently when I had to write a thank you note to a man I have never met who helped fund my scholarship. Normally, I just put off writing cards so long that it would be awkward to send them. (“Thank you so much for the scarf you gave me six months ago at my birthday party. I shall cherish it always.”) Not in this case. The message I send here is extremely important. It is, “Thank you so much for this beautiful money. I won’t waste it. Please donate more.” It is not a particularly complicated message, but one that deserves some delicacy in delivery. Emails are entirely inappropriate. They smack of laziness. Phone calls are too awkward, also, I’m congested. Personally showing up in Wyoming is too expensive. That leaves me with the US mail service.

As it turns out, writing the letter was the easy part. I can pick any words I want, but every aspect of the card I use will be carefully scrutinized, and I haven’t an unlimited supply of stationery. I must be careful the message I send.

• Textured paper speaks of opulence, of wealth, of environmentally friendly recycled sustainability! Unless, that is, it’s obvious that the leaves and twigs in the paper are printed on. Then you’re a cheapskate writing on a truck stop napkin, and you should try glossy paper. Too much gloss, however, and it’s an impersonal Hallmark card. The ideal card has the shine of normal printing paper.
• The picture on the stationary or front of the card is also extremely important. I thought it might be appropriate to thank a sponsor with a baby animal. My mother thought not. The sponsor might get the idea that I thought he liked baby animals. Then I found a card with an ocean scene. Perfect!
• …only there was a Bible verse inside, and, having never met the man, I don’t know his religious views. There is a dire shortage of cards that are just blank. The card can not be just blank. There has to be something on the front, or some pattern printed on the paper.

I finally found some old textured stationary where the leaves only look vaguely printed on and there is absolutely nothing else printed on the card. I hope it’s appropriate. You can see why I have so much respect for letter writers now, I hope. They follow these rules with ease and pacify even the most attentive letter readers. Of course, maybe I’m reading too much into this. Maybe all my friends don’t interpret my forgetting to send thank you cards as a sign of forgetfulness and rudeness. Maybe the kind man who set up a scholarship fund will read my letter for what it is, and throw it away. I hope he does.