This could be the beginning of a series of posts whining about how bad my research is going, but instead I will talk about how awesome Science is.
(Pretty awesome, in my opinion.)
A classic. Yes, I do feel like bursting into song sometimes when my PCR works. Which is not all too often (see last semester) (The Doctor made a joke today when someone asked about a very complicated protocol: "That's about as fun as making DNA out of dirt!" and then smiled at me very sweetly, at which point I stuck my tongue out and told him he hadn't disposed of the chemicals from that project yet and that the tubes were still in the fume hood, along with the aforementioned dirt, to which he replied that he will dispose of them when he has free time. And then he added that he didn't have any free time.) (We used a bunch of very dangerous chemicals, so we have to dispose of them through this complicated procedure that involves forms that have to be filled out in triplicate.) (For the unenlightened, PCR stands for Polymerase Chain Reaction, and is just about the most useful thing ever. If you're into DNA, that is.)
The Nanodrop giveth, and it taketh away. Sixteen hours for a digest--five seconds for a verdict. On stressful days, you will find yourself offering human sacrifices to the Lab Gods. I know one of my professors has a Voodoo doll nailed over his bench.
Spiffy--it emails you/texts you when your PCR is done!
There was an offer for an internship this summer at CERN. And because I am not a Physics major, I can't go. Which is a bummer, because I wouldn't hesistate a second. Is it a sign that I'm too nerdy if I can point out that their animation of electron movement around the atom is wrong? And that I've toured a particle accelerator? Know what the pattern that appears when two gold nuclei collide means? Have read a book entirely about the Universe's first second? When I was twelve?
To make it even better, this morning in Ochem the Professor treated us to a reenactment of Atom Wars, with costumes and all. Featuring Old Pi-Bond Kenobi, :Nuc Skywalker, Han 'Proton' Solo, and the Death Star (aka Carboxyl). And, of course, the Force. The Electrostatic Force.
And guess who's visiting The University sometime this semester?
Tomorrow shall be another Day Of Science!™, as The University is hosting what is apparently the most famous open house in Texas, and I have volunteered with both Science Geek Organization and Highly Selective Science Program, so I will be both painting faces, blowing gloves into balloons, making liquid-nitrogen ice cream, dipping random objects into liquid nitrogen and pounding them with a hammer to make them shatter (remind me to tell you the story about liquid air, a mouse, and my hand at some point) and blowing up things with the power of Chemistry! (And hopfully not painting ice cream and blowing up faces, because that would be rather messy. Not to mention a hassle to explain to the parents.)
Finally, I have discovered that this song does indeed make everything funny.
***
Also, The Boy is coming home for a week. Not that I'm countingdays hours seconds or anything.
(Plus, today was his birthday and our two-year anniversary is next Friday. What a week this will be!)
(Pretty awesome, in my opinion.)
A classic. Yes, I do feel like bursting into song sometimes when my PCR works. Which is not all too often (see last semester) (The Doctor made a joke today when someone asked about a very complicated protocol: "That's about as fun as making DNA out of dirt!" and then smiled at me very sweetly, at which point I stuck my tongue out and told him he hadn't disposed of the chemicals from that project yet and that the tubes were still in the fume hood, along with the aforementioned dirt, to which he replied that he will dispose of them when he has free time. And then he added that he didn't have any free time.) (We used a bunch of very dangerous chemicals, so we have to dispose of them through this complicated procedure that involves forms that have to be filled out in triplicate.) (For the unenlightened, PCR stands for Polymerase Chain Reaction, and is just about the most useful thing ever. If you're into DNA, that is.)
The Nanodrop giveth, and it taketh away. Sixteen hours for a digest--five seconds for a verdict. On stressful days, you will find yourself offering human sacrifices to the Lab Gods. I know one of my professors has a Voodoo doll nailed over his bench.
Spiffy--it emails you/texts you when your PCR is done!
There was an offer for an internship this summer at CERN. And because I am not a Physics major, I can't go. Which is a bummer, because I wouldn't hesistate a second. Is it a sign that I'm too nerdy if I can point out that their animation of electron movement around the atom is wrong? And that I've toured a particle accelerator? Know what the pattern that appears when two gold nuclei collide means? Have read a book entirely about the Universe's first second? When I was twelve?
To make it even better, this morning in Ochem the Professor treated us to a reenactment of Atom Wars, with costumes and all. Featuring Old Pi-Bond Kenobi, :Nuc Skywalker, Han 'Proton' Solo, and the Death Star (aka Carboxyl). And, of course, the Force. The Electrostatic Force.
And guess who's visiting The University sometime this semester?
Tomorrow shall be another Day Of Science!™, as The University is hosting what is apparently the most famous open house in Texas, and I have volunteered with both Science Geek Organization and Highly Selective Science Program, so I will be both painting faces, blowing gloves into balloons, making liquid-nitrogen ice cream, dipping random objects into liquid nitrogen and pounding them with a hammer to make them shatter (remind me to tell you the story about liquid air, a mouse, and my hand at some point) and blowing up things with the power of Chemistry! (And hopfully not painting ice cream and blowing up faces, because that would be rather messy. Not to mention a hassle to explain to the parents.)
Finally, I have discovered that this song does indeed make everything funny.
***
Also, The Boy is coming home for a week. Not that I'm counting
(Plus, today was his birthday and our two-year anniversary is next Friday. What a week this will be!)
1 comment:
I understood the last four lines.
For the rest I would have to be at least 25 centimetres (which translates as centimeters) taller.
Post a Comment