Hypothesis: How good an apple tastes is inversely proportional to how good its name suggests it tastes. For example: Red Delicious. They have "delicious" in their name - how bad could they taste taste, right? WRONG. Red delicious apples are revolting. Then there's Fuji apples. I have no thoughts or feelings one way or the other on Fujisaki, Aomori Prefecture, and sure enough, they are pretty standard apples. Finally, Granny Smith apples. Granny Smith - really? That sounds like the name of the most boring woman on the planet. But taking a bite of a Granny Smith apple is like taking a bite out of heaven.
In other news, it's difficult to believe it has already been 4 years since junior year of high school. That year possessed some spectral grip over us; the killer year, when everyone took the most difficult classes simultaneously, braved those oh-so-important standardized exams, which would determine our future. In other words it was the exact opposite of now, which feels less important than ever. Maybe it's just that I've become accustomed to the rituals of college. I enroll in classes, put in minimal but satisfactory effort, they end. Recently it occurred to me that I lack any real incentive is supposed to be to get good grades, but I do it anyway out of habit.
And now to perpetuate the mundanity I will describe my classes, like I always do:
German 1: Elementary German
A few days in this class were sufficient to remind me how much I feed off of introductory language classes, and by that I mean I think I should take them forever and ever. They're a major self esteem boost. They force you to meet people, which I don't exactly do often. And expectations are so low that I honestly can't imagine how anyone could struggle with the material. After taking Spanish and French I can say this class feels even slower than usual, but that may be due to the flagrant incompetency of our TA, who never quite seems to understand what he's doing. I thought about keeping a log of exactly how he fails each day, but then I realized that would take more work than the class itself.
Scandinavian 50W: Introduction to Scandinavian Literature and Culture
I can't say I particularly enjoy what we've read so far - three Sagas of Icelanders and the Volusunga Saga, which are just about the least-compelling reads I have yet to experience. Fortunately we're quickly jumping towards the modern era, which means I may be able to read more than a few pages without nodding off. The professor is good, our TA is funny, and the class feels quite personal, which I suppose is how a writing class should feel. Whether it will actually improve my writing is yet to be determined. We did a bit of peer reviewing essays on Thursday and all I can say about is that I really should have not taken the humanities program at Northwood for granted, because most people's writing is just atrocious.
Geography 7: Intro to Geographic Information Systems
Honestly I have not put much thought into this class at all. Lecture has so far been completely self explanatory, which I suppose is a good thing. The professor spends half the time showing us cool websites like Photosynth. Lab has been basically a giant computer literacy test.
Math 134: Systems of Differential Equations
This class has emphasized graphical problem solving so far, which I appreciate. Hopefully I am developing some mathematical intuition, which I have really lacked since high school. I had actually been avoiding this particular professor, because she substituted for Rogawski one day back in 32B, and came off as incomprehensible. But in this class it didn't take long to realize I was completely wrong about her - she is completely straightforward, thorough, clear professors I have had to date. She has yet to truly confuse me - which every teacher I've had since pre-calculus has managed to do on a regular basis.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Spring 2009 Concert
I just realized I never wrote about our concert in May - which was probably the most crowd-pleasing concert I've experienced to date. Take a look at the literature:
- Tchaikovsky - "Romeo and Juliet" Fantasy-Overture: Who doesn't know the love theme? Maybe you find it trite due to its popularity - but let me tell you playing it is a whole new experience altogether. Minute-long extended passages of strings playing legato in octaves - this is romanticism, and I can still appreciate it (I was doubting this.) Then there's the rest of the piece - which has quite a few extended 16th-note runs in the strings, including cellos. Which aren't particularly bad since they are in B minor, which is a nice key for strings. So I could play them farily accurately all quarter long until the concert, when my fingers froze up and I basically flopped my way through every one - story of my life I guess.
- Bernstein - Chichester Psalms: The highlight of the concert for me - I suppose it's because the piece is right up my alley at the moment: not too dissonant, but unconventional harmonies, complex meters (most of the first movement is in 7/4, most of the third is 10/4, divided into two groups of 2+3/4), and colorful orchestration (the first movement requires something like 6-7 percussionists). The University Choir who we performed with did an outstanding job - although I discovered when watching a video recording that they dragged a bit during the first movement. The countertenor soloist in the second movement was quite good - though unfortunately everything is harder to hear when you're in the middle of the ensemble.
- Dvorak - Symphony no. 9 "From the New World": Is there a more famous symphony than this one? Unfortunately the cello part is mediocre and forgettable, like Dvorak's cello parts often are. And then there's the godawful trio in the otherwise exciting scherzo, and that anticlimactic woodwind diminuendo on the last note of the piece. It has its moments - the adagio's gorgeous English horn solo, the giant E-major tremolos in the coda - but I will be honest here and admit performing this was a little disappointing (boy, how my tastes have changed.) But at least audiences still eat this one up.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
West Virginia is the grossest-shaped state in the US
Looking at a political map of the United States, I have made several conclusions: first and foremost, that West Virginia is the grossest-shaped state in the union. Take a look at a map yourself and I'm sure you will agree. Most US states are nicely in proportion with each other, with a mix of natural and arbitrary borders defining a more or less rectangular area, splitting the country into a checkerboard. And then there's West Virginia, which sticks out like a sore thumb:
As the roundest state, "thumb" is probably not a bad description of the shape itself - if you ignore the two disgusting, wild flailing tentacles protruding from the northeast. And that triangle in between - what's up with that? West Virginia probably gets beaten up by all the other states. To me it looks a bit like chicken:
(Give it a minute)
Then there's Idaho, which has always reminded me of those foam #1 hands:
Will somebody explain to me why Idaho is so enthusiastic? It's as if the state is utterly unaware of its crazy senile neighbor Montana, gaping at Idaho without even a hint of subtlety.
On the opposite end of the spectrum is Illinois, which has the most aesthetically pleasing shape of them all by a considerable margin.
With its straight, latitudinal 42° 30' N northern border, Illinois seems to hang down from Wisconsin, suspending below itself the rest of the state and its natural borders with the Mississippi River and Lake Michigan. A beautiful stalactite dripping moisture in a cool South American cave; an icicle dangling from an icy winter cottage at dusk in mid-January.
To whoever is responsible for Illinois' borders: kudos.
As the roundest state, "thumb" is probably not a bad description of the shape itself - if you ignore the two disgusting, wild flailing tentacles protruding from the northeast. And that triangle in between - what's up with that? West Virginia probably gets beaten up by all the other states. To me it looks a bit like chicken:
(Give it a minute)
Then there's Idaho, which has always reminded me of those foam #1 hands:
Will somebody explain to me why Idaho is so enthusiastic? It's as if the state is utterly unaware of its crazy senile neighbor Montana, gaping at Idaho without even a hint of subtlety.
On the opposite end of the spectrum is Illinois, which has the most aesthetically pleasing shape of them all by a considerable margin.With its straight, latitudinal 42° 30' N northern border, Illinois seems to hang down from Wisconsin, suspending below itself the rest of the state and its natural borders with the Mississippi River and Lake Michigan. A beautiful stalactite dripping moisture in a cool South American cave; an icicle dangling from an icy winter cottage at dusk in mid-January.
To whoever is responsible for Illinois' borders: kudos.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Underschtand
Something I understood when I was little and don't understand now:
When drinking fountains come in pairs, there is always a lower one and a higher one. As a kid it was obvious to me that the left drinking fountain was for short people, while the right drinking fountain was for tall people, and that was that. This explanation suffices in the case of say, elementary schools, when students' heights vary dramatically. But the "tall" fountain is still low enough that most people older than 13 or so can drink from it effortlessly.
So why is there always a "short" drinking fountain? Clearly it is to accommodate children, which could be reasonably be in any public place. But if they aren't tall enough for the "tall" fountain, are they tall enough for the average public restroom sink? If they aren't tall enough for the "tall" fountain, should they really be wandering around without someone there to assist them? And if we are to accommodate a minority group like children at a university, shouldn't we also consider the minority of tall people with back problems, who can't reasonably bend over that far to drink some water?
It's uncomfortable for me to drink from the tall drinking fountain, and I don't have back problems, nor am I exceptionally tall. And since in the average non-elementary-school public space, the "tall" fountain is used almost exclusively, it is usually not working optimally. So everyone is forced to use the short one - an inconvenience to a much greater number of people than would be inconvenienced if
Or maybe if, best of all, there were an adjustable-height drinking fountain (I really should patent this.)
Something I didn't understand when I was little and do understand now:
Say you are a pedestrian crossing a large intersection: you press the button, the walk symbol is displayed, and you begin to cross. Mere seconds later the icon changes to the flashing red "prepare to stop!" hand. "How can they expect anyone to cross the street that fast?" This baffled me for the longest time. I stopped thinking about it for over a decade, probably because I am rarely a pedestrian in an area with large streets. But this summer I have been doing a lot of walking at UCI during lunch. Almost immediately after I started in late June it finally struck me.
The reason the pedestrian traffic signal changes to the flashing hand so quickly is because beyond that point, they don't think you will have enough time to cross the intersection. If the "walk" icon were displayed much longer than the hand icon, as I thought it should be when I was younger, someone might arrive at the crossing moments before the hand disappeared, enter the street, and then find themselves stuck with mere seconds to cross. So rather than an underestimate of the time it takes to cross the street, it's an overestimate. When I think of it now it is almost offensively obvious; it absolutely could not function any other way.
I'll just tell myself I'm getting wiser.
When drinking fountains come in pairs, there is always a lower one and a higher one. As a kid it was obvious to me that the left drinking fountain was for short people, while the right drinking fountain was for tall people, and that was that. This explanation suffices in the case of say, elementary schools, when students' heights vary dramatically. But the "tall" fountain is still low enough that most people older than 13 or so can drink from it effortlessly.
So why is there always a "short" drinking fountain? Clearly it is to accommodate children, which could be reasonably be in any public place. But if they aren't tall enough for the "tall" fountain, are they tall enough for the average public restroom sink? If they aren't tall enough for the "tall" fountain, should they really be wandering around without someone there to assist them? And if we are to accommodate a minority group like children at a university, shouldn't we also consider the minority of tall people with back problems, who can't reasonably bend over that far to drink some water?
It's uncomfortable for me to drink from the tall drinking fountain, and I don't have back problems, nor am I exceptionally tall. And since in the average non-elementary-school public space, the "tall" fountain is used almost exclusively, it is usually not working optimally. So everyone is forced to use the short one - an inconvenience to a much greater number of people than would be inconvenienced if
- both fountains were the same height, or better yet, if
- there were still two distinct heights, but both were taller than they are now.
Or maybe if, best of all, there were an adjustable-height drinking fountain (I really should patent this.)
Something I didn't understand when I was little and do understand now:
Say you are a pedestrian crossing a large intersection: you press the button, the walk symbol is displayed, and you begin to cross. Mere seconds later the icon changes to the flashing red "prepare to stop!" hand. "How can they expect anyone to cross the street that fast?" This baffled me for the longest time. I stopped thinking about it for over a decade, probably because I am rarely a pedestrian in an area with large streets. But this summer I have been doing a lot of walking at UCI during lunch. Almost immediately after I started in late June it finally struck me.
The reason the pedestrian traffic signal changes to the flashing hand so quickly is because beyond that point, they don't think you will have enough time to cross the intersection. If the "walk" icon were displayed much longer than the hand icon, as I thought it should be when I was younger, someone might arrive at the crossing moments before the hand disappeared, enter the street, and then find themselves stuck with mere seconds to cross. So rather than an underestimate of the time it takes to cross the street, it's an overestimate. When I think of it now it is almost offensively obvious; it absolutely could not function any other way.
I'll just tell myself I'm getting wiser.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Great minds think alike
Hopefully you are familiar with Apples to Apples. This is not fabricated in any way.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The best moment of my life
Tonight around 10 PM, the greatest moment of my life occurred - this one will be particularly difficult to explain.
- We were playing a board game that you have not heard of. It does not have a Wikipedia article. Nor does the company who made it, although we have discovered that it is by the creators of Trivial Pursuit - which renders its obscurity even more puzzling.
- To make a long story short, it's a geography game. Basically you read vague descriptions of places from cards and then fruitlessly attempt pinpoint the exact location on the planet at which they are/were located. Some are quite easy: "Ubi wasn't built in a day", but most are basically impossible. One of the game pieces effectively described our reaction to the rules of the game:
- The game is wild, wacky stuff. Setting up the game felt akin to making final preparations for a demonic ritual, which you might get a feel for if you take a look at these photos. A few statements in the rules are particularly cryptic, and important to my story:
"The player born closest to March 15 plays first." (As a side note, this was me.)
"There's something fishy about some Ubis. We are pulling your leg. These are called red herrings. When a red herring surfaces, the correct answer is 'that's a red herring'."
"Great Caesar's Ghosts lurks within the game. A player to whom he speaks, beware! (Looking on the bright side, we could have included a dagger)." - "That's funny, March 15! The Ides of March!" we thought. We started to play and learn as we went along, answering a few corrections correctly, and a whole lot more questions incorrectly.
- One fateful turn, my team rolled dual Ubi Eyes on the Ubi Cubis which meant that we could choose which accuracy we wanted to give - hexagonal or triangular, which required you to be 6 times more accurate, but is required to actually make progress in the game. We could also choose the region of our choice - AMR (Americas), EUR (Europe), WAT (Water), or UNI (Universal) - a question from each region is found on each card. In other words, we had it made - and we were already two scoring facets ahead of the other team.
- We drew the next card from the box and read the clue:
"AMR: Ubi 'Beware the Ides of March!""Ha! That shouldn't be in the Americas, it should be in Europe!" we thought. "That must be a red herring." We then turned the card over to read the correct answer - and to our dismay, it said something like "Et tu, Bruté?" and told us basically we lost all our points and had to start over. - Let me just clarify the amount of FAIL here for you - I'm assuming you are pretty lost. We had ideal circumstances. We had the privilege to choose and then chose a question which we were 100% convinced we had the correct for. We recognized it as a red herring, which requires us to have read the rules. Which in turn required us to have read the cryptic note about Caesar's ghost. We have read Julius Caesar. We had started the game with the closest birthday to the Ides of March. The question itself told us to beware the ides of march. In summary: Against all odds and all common sense we walked headfirst into our demise.
- Andrew immediately began to sing the keyboard cat song - to play us off. If you don't already know what this is, here are some good examples of the keyboard cat phenomenon:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=io63z-aRMbg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLSoYihTtro
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=deYn_efItS0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9WSg7dcKFzg
Of course all these videos require that you have previously been exposed to other videos. It's all very meta and if you are oblivious to the internet subculture and don't get it, I'm sorry, but you probably never will, and nothing I could have said would make this funny to you. But those of you out there who truly comprehend (there has to be at least one) will agree with me, that this moment was perfect, in every sense of the word.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Quote of the Year
Weisbart, on the Fundamental Theorem of Calculus:
"That's why this theorem is so nice - it takes something that really requires a lot of thought and reduces it to something that ... a 3A student could do."
Monday, May 11, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Sightings
- In class Monday: Some littleish Indian guy wearing red shoes kept walking down the hall past our room and then walking back seconds later. He's what I imagine an Indian elf would look like (the kind from the North Pole, not from Rivendell.)
- Walking to class Tuesday: Some girl had headphones on and was listening to loud Bluegrass music, complete with very audible violin glissandi. I suppose anything is a welcome departure from the stuff people usually listen to way too loudly!
- Walking to dinner Tuesday night: We exited Rieber Vista just as a guy on a bike was arriving. He was pretty far from the building and wanted to make it inside before the door closed. So he pedaled as hard as he could right to the door, then slammed on his breaks just inches from the door to grab it. It was pretty hardcore if you ask me.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Floss
Flossing between the back two molars with a piece of floss that's too short is difficult. Torn between efficacy and frugality. I am profoundly frustrated.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Beefless
Starting this quarter, every Thursday the dining halls are beefless - which basically means all of the beef is replaced with turkey or chicken. I guess the die-hard beef fans are upset about this but I welcome anything that begets a little variety. Though I'm not entirely sure they're accomplishing much when it's only one day per week, and they're just substituting meats.
It's almost fourth week already - I think I've got midterms coming up but I don't know when. I haven't written about my classes yet so I guess I will:
Math 151A - Applied Numerical Methods - I love this class. If you've ever become disillusioned by your math classes then you ought to take some numerical analysis. For example, after elementary calculus you know how to integrate a few pretty functions in a few special cases - that's great, but real life rarely works out like the questions in your calc textbook do. In real life, you don't get functions, you get data. Or approximations of functions - and even if you have these there's a huge chance you won't be able to manipulate or analyze them by hand. Numerical analysis is all about how to cope with this sort of problem - in particular, with computers. I'm not the hugest fan of the professor, nor the TA, who spends most of his time advising us about programming in Python. Which would be nice and all if only this were a programming class - but it's not and I wish he'd discuss the actual numerical analysis a little more. The programming required is rudimentary at best, especially since we can use MATLAB.
PIC 10C - Advanced Programming - I find it funny that inheritance and other fundamental topics in object-oriented programming are taught in a class with the word "advanced" in its title. I suppose it's not that necessary in C++, but with Java these are always the first things you talk about. Fortunately this has permitted me to tune out a little, and made this class very relaxing so far. This week we switched to C# - I guess we are working towards making some nice little Windows applications, which should be handy. But of course we have to start with basic syntactical issues - and lucky for me C# is even more similar to Java than C++ is. It amuses me that writing one program in Java ever allows me to breeze through so much of this class.
Physics 1C - I hate this class. I come in every day and tell myself: "Self, this is the day you will stay awake through an entire lecture" - but it never happens and within five minutes I'm out cold. My notes are consequently a little disjointed - fragments of the second half of the past few weeks' lectures. Incidentally, I strangely recall saying most of this about 1B - physics classes must not be my thing. We'll see how the midterm goes...
Math 131A - Analysis - Another theoretical class in the same vein as 115A. This one starts with everything we've taken for granted since elementary school; for the first three weeks we have been building up from simple set theory into constructing number systems. Like defining what it means to add integers. Proving things that we have used without thinking for 75% of our lives. The professor insists that the actual analysis will start soon. I have grown to appreciate this type of material much more through 115A - it's nice to see where all of this came from.
It's almost fourth week already - I think I've got midterms coming up but I don't know when. I haven't written about my classes yet so I guess I will:
Math 151A - Applied Numerical Methods - I love this class. If you've ever become disillusioned by your math classes then you ought to take some numerical analysis. For example, after elementary calculus you know how to integrate a few pretty functions in a few special cases - that's great, but real life rarely works out like the questions in your calc textbook do. In real life, you don't get functions, you get data. Or approximations of functions - and even if you have these there's a huge chance you won't be able to manipulate or analyze them by hand. Numerical analysis is all about how to cope with this sort of problem - in particular, with computers. I'm not the hugest fan of the professor, nor the TA, who spends most of his time advising us about programming in Python. Which would be nice and all if only this were a programming class - but it's not and I wish he'd discuss the actual numerical analysis a little more. The programming required is rudimentary at best, especially since we can use MATLAB.
PIC 10C - Advanced Programming - I find it funny that inheritance and other fundamental topics in object-oriented programming are taught in a class with the word "advanced" in its title. I suppose it's not that necessary in C++, but with Java these are always the first things you talk about. Fortunately this has permitted me to tune out a little, and made this class very relaxing so far. This week we switched to C# - I guess we are working towards making some nice little Windows applications, which should be handy. But of course we have to start with basic syntactical issues - and lucky for me C# is even more similar to Java than C++ is. It amuses me that writing one program in Java ever allows me to breeze through so much of this class.
Physics 1C - I hate this class. I come in every day and tell myself: "Self, this is the day you will stay awake through an entire lecture" - but it never happens and within five minutes I'm out cold. My notes are consequently a little disjointed - fragments of the second half of the past few weeks' lectures. Incidentally, I strangely recall saying most of this about 1B - physics classes must not be my thing. We'll see how the midterm goes...
Math 131A - Analysis - Another theoretical class in the same vein as 115A. This one starts with everything we've taken for granted since elementary school; for the first three weeks we have been building up from simple set theory into constructing number systems. Like defining what it means to add integers. Proving things that we have used without thinking for 75% of our lives. The professor insists that the actual analysis will start soon. I have grown to appreciate this type of material much more through 115A - it's nice to see where all of this came from.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Cell Phone Faces
Since fall, I've taken a few face photos with my cell phone when my camera wasn't handy. I should really start carrying it with me more frequently again. These will suffice for now.
On one of those self-checkout machines at Albertson's (another reason to love them!)
Kush's inadvertent fruit placement at dinner today:
On Joseph's cooler:
Oven mitt burns:
On the back of a shark-themed bottle opener: (don't ask me)
On the side of Gayley Avenue:
My phone is also home to a bunch of pictures of other interesting things. But these will have to wait until I'm feeling a bit less lazy.
On one of those self-checkout machines at Albertson's (another reason to love them!)
Kush's inadvertent fruit placement at dinner today:
On Joseph's cooler:
Oven mitt burns:
On the back of a shark-themed bottle opener: (don't ask me)
On the side of Gayley Avenue:
My phone is also home to a bunch of pictures of other interesting things. But these will have to wait until I'm feeling a bit less lazy.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Winter Concert
Tonight was our winter concert, so I figured I'd write my thoughts on each piece as usual as a means to procrastinate on writing a real entry:
Copland - An Outdoor Overture
Such nostalgia from freshman year of high school, when this was the opener to our marching band field show. It doesn't have the greatest cello part - we don't even get to play at all during the gorgeous middle section. But I love this piece, its driving rhythms and subtle transitions.
Mozart - Sinfonia Concertante, K. 364
This was probably the first time that I have actually enjoyed performing Mozart - thanks mostly to our phenomenal soloists. Virtuosic violinists are a dime a dozen, but rarely do we hear a good violist, especially when their solo repertoire is so small. But even the music itself stands out to me among Mozart's other work - the first movement in particular seems more passionate than your typical Mozart (aside from works like the Requiem).
Bizet - L'Arlésienne Suites 1 and 2
Bizet is gorgeous as usual - but I'm a little unimpressed that the work's transition of choice seems to be to stop and then resume again with completely different material. I can understand not wanting to drastically alter the original music in creating suites, but there have got to be some leitmotifs or something that could be used to bridge the gaps between sections a little.
Copland - An Outdoor Overture
Such nostalgia from freshman year of high school, when this was the opener to our marching band field show. It doesn't have the greatest cello part - we don't even get to play at all during the gorgeous middle section. But I love this piece, its driving rhythms and subtle transitions.
Mozart - Sinfonia Concertante, K. 364
This was probably the first time that I have actually enjoyed performing Mozart - thanks mostly to our phenomenal soloists. Virtuosic violinists are a dime a dozen, but rarely do we hear a good violist, especially when their solo repertoire is so small. But even the music itself stands out to me among Mozart's other work - the first movement in particular seems more passionate than your typical Mozart (aside from works like the Requiem).
Bizet - L'Arlésienne Suites 1 and 2
Bizet is gorgeous as usual - but I'm a little unimpressed that the work's transition of choice seems to be to stop and then resume again with completely different material. I can understand not wanting to drastically alter the original music in creating suites, but there have got to be some leitmotifs or something that could be used to bridge the gaps between sections a little.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Zut
At some point last week my very French math professor said "Zut!" which basically means "Damn it!"
Last Monday I got a jury summons. Luckily I got plenty of reassurance from my sisters and friends that you can definitely get out of it by proclaiming you are a full time student. So I logged onto Orange County's fancy eJuror site to see if I could escape - and by "fancy" I mean horrendously flawed. To make a long story short I hit a misleading button that effectively confirmed that I would serve on April 3. So I had to send a "whoops!" email to them and explain the situation and now I am basically guaranteed to have to serve sometime this summer. Zut!
The top three other things currently wracking my nerves:
The professor of the 2nd half of Psych 15 is frightening - he stands completely still, statue-like, yet he has a tremor in his right arm. And I love him for the irony. But he talks so quietly that I spend most of each class asleep, which is lamentable because he seems pretty interesting.
Stars: 18
Do dats: 45
Lies to Calpirg people: 3
Last Monday I got a jury summons. Luckily I got plenty of reassurance from my sisters and friends that you can definitely get out of it by proclaiming you are a full time student. So I logged onto Orange County's fancy eJuror site to see if I could escape - and by "fancy" I mean horrendously flawed. To make a long story short I hit a misleading button that effectively confirmed that I would serve on April 3. So I had to send a "whoops!" email to them and explain the situation and now I am basically guaranteed to have to serve sometime this summer. Zut!
The top three other things currently wracking my nerves:
- The second Math 115A midterm, which is tomorrow night. I honestly considered studying this time only to discover again that I don't know how.
- All of the classes I want to enroll in filling up before I even get my first pass. All of them.
- An "experiment" for Psych 15 tomorrow morning which involves a "head brace" - sounds a little sketchy to me. But really the only problem is I have to find some obscure computer labs in the oh-so-ugly Franz hall.
The professor of the 2nd half of Psych 15 is frightening - he stands completely still, statue-like, yet he has a tremor in his right arm. And I love him for the irony. But he talks so quietly that I spend most of each class asleep, which is lamentable because he seems pretty interesting.
Stars: 18
Do dats: 45
Lies to Calpirg people: 3
Friday, February 13, 2009
Of course
Monday was my first upper division math midterm, for Math 115A, which as you might expect, was soulcrushingly difficult. The exam rendered me hopelessly desolate; my only consolation was a classmate telling me she "wanted to cry." All was repaired however, when we received the results:
My favorite midterm grade distribution ever - especially the part where I am rank 4 in the class with a 55%.
Unfortunately the professor decided that we should have another midterm to improve our scores - which would clearly have the exact opposite effect on mine unless I somehow manage to be 20% above the median again. To make matters worse the midterm takes place right when my first enrollment pass starts, so now I have to get someone to sign up for classes for me. Of course. Further proof that anytime something good happens, something irritating has to come along and ruin it. And whenever bad things happen they take advantage of as many unfortunate coincidences as possible.
Other recent thoughts:
I love rain. If you know only one thing about me, it's probably this. But what surprised me recently is how much more tolerable the cold is when it's not windy. Cold in itself doesn't bother me at all, but wind makes me miserable. I guess windchill is responsible, and I knew this intellectually, but it still is quite a shock to actually experience.
I will never pledge Calpirg. Over the past two weeks they have returned in full force, coming to classrooms, stopping you even late at night. One of them was dressed up as Batman (I don't know either.) As much as I probably agree with what they believe in, it's terrible how even people who have pledged are stopped by dozens of Calpirg people over the course of a week. This goes for all of you who solicit us on Bruinwalk: If you want money or something, that's fine, but don't waste our time making us fill our forms, don't make us give you contact info, don't make us dismiss you awkwardly.
My favorite midterm grade distribution ever - especially the part where I am rank 4 in the class with a 55%.Unfortunately the professor decided that we should have another midterm to improve our scores - which would clearly have the exact opposite effect on mine unless I somehow manage to be 20% above the median again. To make matters worse the midterm takes place right when my first enrollment pass starts, so now I have to get someone to sign up for classes for me. Of course. Further proof that anytime something good happens, something irritating has to come along and ruin it. And whenever bad things happen they take advantage of as many unfortunate coincidences as possible.
Other recent thoughts:
I love rain. If you know only one thing about me, it's probably this. But what surprised me recently is how much more tolerable the cold is when it's not windy. Cold in itself doesn't bother me at all, but wind makes me miserable. I guess windchill is responsible, and I knew this intellectually, but it still is quite a shock to actually experience.
I will never pledge Calpirg. Over the past two weeks they have returned in full force, coming to classrooms, stopping you even late at night. One of them was dressed up as Batman (I don't know either.) As much as I probably agree with what they believe in, it's terrible how even people who have pledged are stopped by dozens of Calpirg people over the course of a week. This goes for all of you who solicit us on Bruinwalk: If you want money or something, that's fine, but don't waste our time making us fill our forms, don't make us give you contact info, don't make us dismiss you awkwardly.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
You will be missed
"You" refers to my physics professor for the first 3 weeks of the quarter, who left us to write some proposal for the physics department. He was a welcome contrast from my Physics 1A professor last winter, who droned on and on and always managed to stand in such a way that we couldn't see what he had just written on the board.
Bruinsma was different - I felt I was actually learning, rather than just taking the equations and running with them, as we often get away with in physics classes. His most memorable quote occurred during the review session before the first midterm: "One thing I have learned as a European in the United States is that modesty gets you nowhere."
Alas, physics has regressed. Now I spend most of the time napping or counting how many times my new professor says "how you do dat." Farewell, Bruinsma; you will be missed. Even though I didn't understand 40% of your midterm at all.
Do dat: 9
Stars: 11
Bruinsma was different - I felt I was actually learning, rather than just taking the equations and running with them, as we often get away with in physics classes. His most memorable quote occurred during the review session before the first midterm: "One thing I have learned as a European in the United States is that modesty gets you nowhere."
Alas, physics has regressed. Now I spend most of the time napping or counting how many times my new professor says "how you do dat." Farewell, Bruinsma; you will be missed. Even though I didn't understand 40% of your midterm at all.
Do dat: 9
Stars: 11
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Miscellanea
Vivid descriptions of recent happenings:
Tuesday morning I attended the first lecture of Asian Am 10: History of Asian Americans. I decided to drop it immediately afterwards. It wasn't so much that the professor was bad - he was just a bit too lively for my tastes. At least, that's the excuse I'd give if I were ashamed at all to admit the following: (1) I was still on the waitlist, (2) I don't want my professors to call on me, (3) I don't want to be forbidden to doze off, (4) I don't want to be in an 8 AM discussion on Thursdays, (5) I don't want a class in ugly ugly Bunche Hall, and (6) I don't want to read six novels.
Speaking of dozing off, I have decided to draw a star in my notebook upon awakening from each of my inadvertent classroom naps (It helps to keep track of when they occur). Plus the lectures of Psychology 15 are videotaped (Is that still the right word if no tape is involved?) so I can go back and review the spots I missed; I only hope now that my lethargy is not caught on film.
I entered MS 5147 on Wednesday just as the previous class was finishing up - and heard a familiar voice explaining something to a student. I looked up and saw that the professor of the previous class was none other than Shifty Ifti, looking just as he did before the incident. Needless to say, I avoided eye contact.
Houdayer used a smiley face to denote a set that were vector subspaces and unsmiley faces to denote set that were not. I am a math person and I like smiley faces, Weisbart does too, and now Houdayer. I thought to myself, "Math people like smiley faces." Then I felt immediately guilty because I was sititng in Math 115A, a class in which we have to explicitly prove virtually everything. Speaking of proving things, I hate it. It's one thing when you're proving something advanced and exciting. But when it takes 5 lines to show that if x + z = 0 then z = -x then it seems to me you are looking at things in a little too much detail. Proving things in this level of abstraction is like the math version of being politically correct - what you're used to saying is totally fine except in that it upsets the old math dudes. This is why my major is a variety of Applied Math - I'll leave this crap to the theorists. Alas, 115A is a prerequisite to most other upper division courses.
I previously mentioned PAB 1425, the large lecture hall in the Physics and Astronomy building, unquestionably the nicest building on campus. One of this building's perks is its amazing chairs, which swivel around in a way I can only describe as sitting like I've never sat before. Tragically, Wednesday's lecture left me conflicted upon the discovering a fatal flaw in this revolutionary chair design: if two people seated next to each other try to exit their seats simultaneously, legs will collide. And I don't mean just brushing up - it's more of an intersection.
Walking to lunch on Wednesday I saw a guy with a spiked backpack, which made him look as if he were Bowser. Or a stegosaurus. Laugh all you want, but you don't mess with someone with spikes on his back.
Tuesday morning I attended the first lecture of Asian Am 10: History of Asian Americans. I decided to drop it immediately afterwards. It wasn't so much that the professor was bad - he was just a bit too lively for my tastes. At least, that's the excuse I'd give if I were ashamed at all to admit the following: (1) I was still on the waitlist, (2) I don't want my professors to call on me, (3) I don't want to be forbidden to doze off, (4) I don't want to be in an 8 AM discussion on Thursdays, (5) I don't want a class in ugly ugly Bunche Hall, and (6) I don't want to read six novels.
Speaking of dozing off, I have decided to draw a star in my notebook upon awakening from each of my inadvertent classroom naps (It helps to keep track of when they occur). Plus the lectures of Psychology 15 are videotaped (Is that still the right word if no tape is involved?) so I can go back and review the spots I missed; I only hope now that my lethargy is not caught on film.
I entered MS 5147 on Wednesday just as the previous class was finishing up - and heard a familiar voice explaining something to a student. I looked up and saw that the professor of the previous class was none other than Shifty Ifti, looking just as he did before the incident. Needless to say, I avoided eye contact.
Houdayer used a smiley face to denote a set that were vector subspaces and unsmiley faces to denote set that were not. I am a math person and I like smiley faces, Weisbart does too, and now Houdayer. I thought to myself, "Math people like smiley faces." Then I felt immediately guilty because I was sititng in Math 115A, a class in which we have to explicitly prove virtually everything. Speaking of proving things, I hate it. It's one thing when you're proving something advanced and exciting. But when it takes 5 lines to show that if x + z = 0 then z = -x then it seems to me you are looking at things in a little too much detail. Proving things in this level of abstraction is like the math version of being politically correct - what you're used to saying is totally fine except in that it upsets the old math dudes. This is why my major is a variety of Applied Math - I'll leave this crap to the theorists. Alas, 115A is a prerequisite to most other upper division courses.
I previously mentioned PAB 1425, the large lecture hall in the Physics and Astronomy building, unquestionably the nicest building on campus. One of this building's perks is its amazing chairs, which swivel around in a way I can only describe as sitting like I've never sat before. Tragically, Wednesday's lecture left me conflicted upon the discovering a fatal flaw in this revolutionary chair design: if two people seated next to each other try to exit their seats simultaneously, legs will collide. And I don't mean just brushing up - it's more of an intersection.
Walking to lunch on Wednesday I saw a guy with a spiked backpack, which made him look as if he were Bowser. Or a stegosaurus. Laugh all you want, but you don't mess with someone with spikes on his back.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Day One, Winter 2009
The obligatory first impressions post:
Psychology 15 - Intro to Psychobiology: The syllabus says to read not for memorization, but for understanding. Online study questions, multiple choice, graded leniently. Only 3 hours of lecture per week, with no discussion. In other words, the perfect class for me.
Math 115A - Linear Algebra: My first upper-division math course, which has been worrying me. Even though the class has only 35 students, it feels as impersonal as ever (this is a good thing for me.) I'll have to wait for a few more classes before I can determine whether or not I like the pace. And I have to open that tiny but terrifying textbook to humble myself to mathematics once again.
Physics 1B: The professors name is Bruinsma - how perfect for a UCLA. I still hate the four-lectures-per-week setup the 1 series has, and how discussion is ALWAYS on Friday. But apart from that it's hard for me to worry about this class. All the homework is online, and I'm familiar with most of the material from high school. Plus it's in PAB 1425, which would make any class good.
And of course, 2009 has begun. Let's hope it's better than 2008. That year sucked.
Psychology 15 - Intro to Psychobiology: The syllabus says to read not for memorization, but for understanding. Online study questions, multiple choice, graded leniently. Only 3 hours of lecture per week, with no discussion. In other words, the perfect class for me.
Math 115A - Linear Algebra: My first upper-division math course, which has been worrying me. Even though the class has only 35 students, it feels as impersonal as ever (this is a good thing for me.) I'll have to wait for a few more classes before I can determine whether or not I like the pace. And I have to open that tiny but terrifying textbook to humble myself to mathematics once again.
Physics 1B: The professors name is Bruinsma - how perfect for a UCLA. I still hate the four-lectures-per-week setup the 1 series has, and how discussion is ALWAYS on Friday. But apart from that it's hard for me to worry about this class. All the homework is online, and I'm familiar with most of the material from high school. Plus it's in PAB 1425, which would make any class good.
And of course, 2009 has begun. Let's hope it's better than 2008. That year sucked.
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