Greetings from the magical land of procrastination, where being productive can always be banished to the far realm of "later".
There's nothing quite like a deadline to bring out the procrastinator in me. Right now, I've got an environmental report writeup due to my PI (due yesterday, actually, but that's fine...), lab prep, insect collections to start, a study group that I'm so not prepared for that's starting in half an hour, and, oh yeah, the first exam in the grad core series tomorrow that I haven't even started properly studying for. I should be finishing my edits of my report, or working through the midterm study guide. But what am I actually doing? Writing a blog while eating oatmeal (the oatmeal is not a pertinent fact in this instance, but it is evocative of it currently being breakfast time).
As deadlines approach, I feel myself getting increasingly scatterbrained. I can't seem to concentrate on one topic at a time, jumping from topic to topic, and overall productivity really does suffer. Maybe I'm just out of practice (I used to do this sort of thing all the time when I was in school before!). Maybe I don't sleep as much as I should (obviously). Maybe I'm drinking too much coffee. Wait, never mind on that last one.
I'll consider this short snippet of a blog post my momentary tryst into Procrastinationland for this morning. Maybe now that the oatmeal is gone, I can concentrate more on this study guide.
In the meantime, can I convince anyone to take a molecular genomics exam for me tomorrow?
Anybody?
Hello...?
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Confessions of a Night Owl(bear)
Greetings from the midle of a sleep-deprived week.
Its been so long I had nearly forgotten how much it sucks to stay up past 2:00A night after night working on school projects. But now I remember. Ah yes, just as crappy as it always was.
This week's project of note is a presentation, due tomorrow afternoon, that I'll then be giving on Thursday. It's been "almost done" all day, but I can't quite seem to take it those last few steps to "completely done".
The morbidly funny thing? I volunteered. I literally asked for this misery. Seeing as how I'm an incoming first-year, I'm not required to present any research at the department's Seminar Day. But I thought it would be fun.
Times ike this, I'm reminded that I really need to learn when to keep my mouth shut. Sure, it looks impressive that I'm presenting, but it's also giving me a migriane that was totally unnecessary.
But for now, the presentation can wait. Unfortunately, it will still be waiting for me in the morning, so I suppose that's as good an excuse as any to get some sleep now, right...?
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Everyone's Got A Dump Stat...
... and mine is CHA.
Greetings from the tabletop, where my very first D&D analogy comes into play!
Days like today make me really wish I had just listened to what mom had said all those years ago and invested more in my Diplomacy skill set. Oh sure DEX is the most flashy, STR is always useful, CON is handy when you're out for a night of drinking (pub crawl!), and INT is most useful for grad school itself, but having a good CHA score to bolster your people skills is something I've always considered to be less important.
No one has ever accused me of having tact. Just the opposite- people can almost always tell the moment I'm upset about something, or if I simply don't have the patience to deal with them at a given moment. Usually this works out well enough, because as people read that I don't want to be bothered, they leave me alone (also sparing themselves from incuring my impatience and/or scathing sarcasm). But that one unfortunate person that comes along and can't tell tends to ruin my whole day. Usually I end up displaying said impatience by coming off as a total bitch (not intentionally, I swear!), so the other person's day is pretty much ruined too. Misery does love company.
This is when having some sort of Diplomacy skills would really be useful.
I'll be honest: most characters I play (except for that chaotic evil one...) reflect my personality more or less accurately. Of course they all have certain traits augmented or diminshed to make them different characters, but mostly I play what I know: a snarky, standoffish rogue with a plethora of practical skills but always lacking a way with people. It makes me a very valuable member of any adventuring party when dungeon delving, solving puzzles, or committing burglaries, but when it comes time to ply people for information or schmooze our way onto a magistrate's good side, the whole party is really better off if I just stand quietly in the back, trying very hard not to filch something.
Days like today are a good reminder that I still need to work on my patience. I would never want to backtrack and retrain for better people skills (because gods know I need all the DEX I can get!), but maybe I should keep this in mind the next time I'm trying to figure out how to distribute my level-up points.
Until then, there's always Bluff checks!
Thursday, June 27, 2013
We're All Insecure Here
Greetings from that annoying place inside your head that constantly makes you feel self-conscious!
I've said before that I can't rightly express how much I'm looking forward to getting back to school. This is both true and not. Along with the excitement of goals finally being realized comes the knowledge that I'm realizing them about 5 or 6 years behind most of these new students. And that's truly daunting.
Throughout my academic life (thanks in part to where my birthday falls along the academic calendar), I've always been the youngest in the class. This didn't matter so much in grade school or even middle school, but it became apparent (and a nuisance!) once I got into high school. By sophomore year, all of my friends were driving, and boy I wished that I could be there, too. Senior year, everyone was turning 18 (which was a big deal since it was a presidential election year). I was always at least a year behind and wished I could be older.
During college, things evened out a bit. There were a few other people I met who were in the same situation as me, and some who had skipped years and gotten to college at 16. It took a little adjustment to get used to the fact that I was no longer automatically the youngest of my group of friends or study partners (though this was usually still the case), but it wasn't a big issue.
Now, having taken a five-year hiatus from school, I'm finding the age gap to be more of an age chasm. My "peers" are, by and large, kids who have been able to (legally) drink for maybe a year. This thought has been stewing in my mind, making me ever more hesitant to go back and be the old lady of the class. I had thoroughly convinced myself that the rest of my incoming class would be far smarter and more prepared than I could ever hope to be, and that I would end up being left in their collective dust after a couple quarters. But then something happened that put my mind a little more at ease.
Yesterday, I ended up spending a good chunk of my day showing another new student around. She is going to be starting up her projects in our lab over the summer as well and needed some orientation, and I was the one here. I gave her the quick driving tour of University-area Riverside, some tips on where to eat (and where not to eat), and showed off some of the secured labs where my projects are running. She's fresh out of her undergrad and very bright. And so... young.
Spending several hours with her yesterday afternoon drove that point home in a way my overactive brain had never processed before. Yes, she's "on track" and going straight into grad school; yes, she's obviously very smart. But she's also very green. She's full of book-learning, but has very little applied knowledge. She's full of questions as to how the world of academic research works, and how to function in a lab setting.
And that's the advantage I have. I doubt I ever appreciated my five years as a lab tech more than I do at this moment. I may be nervous about starting back with classes, surrounded by kids half a decade my junior, but I am completely at home in the lab. I've been doing research on my own for so long now that I don't have to check with someone whenever I encounter a problem with one of my experiments. I don't have to go through training (and hope I remember everything) on experimental design, setup, and how to use basic equipment or methods, all while loading up my plate with my core curriculum.
Classes will still be challenging, but realizing just how much more knowledge than a majority of my new peers I have makes it seem a little better. During my first finals week as a grad student, I'll be able to focus on my exams, not staying in the lab late into the night trying to correct an experiment I accidentally set up wrong the week before because I didn't know the proper procedure. And while others are trying to figure out exactly what direction they want their project and potential research to go in, I'll be writing up my thesis. Thank you very much.
So, good-bye annoying place inside my head that constantly makes me feel self-conscious! I'm sure I'll stop by for a visit from time to time, but I'm planning on spending most of my grad school days near that place in my head that makes me feel like I can do this, after all. Good-bye grad school granny. As River Song so eloquently put it, "Oooh hello, Mrs. Robinson!"
I've said before that I can't rightly express how much I'm looking forward to getting back to school. This is both true and not. Along with the excitement of goals finally being realized comes the knowledge that I'm realizing them about 5 or 6 years behind most of these new students. And that's truly daunting.
Throughout my academic life (thanks in part to where my birthday falls along the academic calendar), I've always been the youngest in the class. This didn't matter so much in grade school or even middle school, but it became apparent (and a nuisance!) once I got into high school. By sophomore year, all of my friends were driving, and boy I wished that I could be there, too. Senior year, everyone was turning 18 (which was a big deal since it was a presidential election year). I was always at least a year behind and wished I could be older.
During college, things evened out a bit. There were a few other people I met who were in the same situation as me, and some who had skipped years and gotten to college at 16. It took a little adjustment to get used to the fact that I was no longer automatically the youngest of my group of friends or study partners (though this was usually still the case), but it wasn't a big issue.
Now, having taken a five-year hiatus from school, I'm finding the age gap to be more of an age chasm. My "peers" are, by and large, kids who have been able to (legally) drink for maybe a year. This thought has been stewing in my mind, making me ever more hesitant to go back and be the old lady of the class. I had thoroughly convinced myself that the rest of my incoming class would be far smarter and more prepared than I could ever hope to be, and that I would end up being left in their collective dust after a couple quarters. But then something happened that put my mind a little more at ease.
Yesterday, I ended up spending a good chunk of my day showing another new student around. She is going to be starting up her projects in our lab over the summer as well and needed some orientation, and I was the one here. I gave her the quick driving tour of University-area Riverside, some tips on where to eat (and where not to eat), and showed off some of the secured labs where my projects are running. She's fresh out of her undergrad and very bright. And so... young.
Spending several hours with her yesterday afternoon drove that point home in a way my overactive brain had never processed before. Yes, she's "on track" and going straight into grad school; yes, she's obviously very smart. But she's also very green. She's full of book-learning, but has very little applied knowledge. She's full of questions as to how the world of academic research works, and how to function in a lab setting.
And that's the advantage I have. I doubt I ever appreciated my five years as a lab tech more than I do at this moment. I may be nervous about starting back with classes, surrounded by kids half a decade my junior, but I am completely at home in the lab. I've been doing research on my own for so long now that I don't have to check with someone whenever I encounter a problem with one of my experiments. I don't have to go through training (and hope I remember everything) on experimental design, setup, and how to use basic equipment or methods, all while loading up my plate with my core curriculum.
Classes will still be challenging, but realizing just how much more knowledge than a majority of my new peers I have makes it seem a little better. During my first finals week as a grad student, I'll be able to focus on my exams, not staying in the lab late into the night trying to correct an experiment I accidentally set up wrong the week before because I didn't know the proper procedure. And while others are trying to figure out exactly what direction they want their project and potential research to go in, I'll be writing up my thesis. Thank you very much.
So, good-bye annoying place inside my head that constantly makes me feel self-conscious! I'm sure I'll stop by for a visit from time to time, but I'm planning on spending most of my grad school days near that place in my head that makes me feel like I can do this, after all. Good-bye grad school granny. As River Song so eloquently put it, "Oooh hello, Mrs. Robinson!"
Friday, June 21, 2013
Having a field day
Greetings from beautiful Manhattan Beach!
Unfortunately, it's not as glamorous as the name would imply. Instead of a beautiful, scenic beach with palm trees gently wafting in a perfect first-day-of-summer breeze, I got a sweltering downtown parking lot surrounded by a sea of asphalt.
Sure it was hot and a long drive through hours of LA traffic, but I'm not complaining; it got me out of my dark little hole and I got to experience the sun on my face and shoulders for several hours, instead of minutes as I walked from the lab to the neighboring building (or vice versa).
Today's expedition was spent hunting down an elusive insect that I'll be testing in August. Along with a couple techs from the lab, I was able to gather up several hundred adult insects from a tree in the middle of a strip mall (Urban Entomology: We Have Exotic Destinations!) that I can now mate in a controlled environment so that I have a large population to utilize once my experiments begin.
I really do love fieldwork. I am never as satisfied as when I've spent the whole day outdoors doing research, sweating, and getting sunburned. All in all, it was a good day, and we were able to find exactly what we were looking for. Something I'm still getting used to, though, is the public interaction. Since we were working in a strip mall right outside one of the more popular shops, we had plenty of curious patrons stop and ask why we were shoving ladders into a planter full of waist-high lavender, climbing into the tree and shaking things off the branches into small buckets. Thankfully, one of my coworkers is far more social than I am, so she was able to field a majority of the questions while I just stayed in the back and continued to beat on the tree with my stick.
There was one thing that perplexed me, though (and this is not the first or even second time this has happened): most of the people that stopped to ask what we were doing had no idea what my coworker was talking about (this is not the perplexing part, FYI), but they all listened politely, since they did ask, and then every one of them nodded and said, sincerely, "Wow, thanks for doing what you do." (This was the perplexing part.) Not to bee (too) cynical, but this is really never the reaction I expect. Honestly, I would think reactions like "Oh, interesting." or "That's cool." or "Huh..." or even a blank stare would be more common. But it seems like, without fail, people seem to pick up on the fact that this is important research, even if they don't understand exactly what it is. I mean, I know I'm doing important work, I guess I just don't really expect other people to understand it's important, too.
Then, there are the people that try to pass off as knowing exactly what you're talking about (I'm looking at you, fast-food-server-lady we met at lunch). And they're just funny.
Pro tip: instead of acting like you're super smart (like looking at the cage with the clear top and saying, smugly, "Those are plants, aren't they? I studied those when I went to college.") admit you're not entirely sure on the topic, but you're interested and want to know more. Otherwise you just end up looking like an idiot to those people who actually do know what they're talking about. And then they laugh all the way home and write a blog about it.
And I think I'll leave it there for today; I've plants to tend and bugs to mate now that I'm back in my little hole. Maybe I'll see daylight again someday...
Unfortunately, it's not as glamorous as the name would imply. Instead of a beautiful, scenic beach with palm trees gently wafting in a perfect first-day-of-summer breeze, I got a sweltering downtown parking lot surrounded by a sea of asphalt.
Sure it was hot and a long drive through hours of LA traffic, but I'm not complaining; it got me out of my dark little hole and I got to experience the sun on my face and shoulders for several hours, instead of minutes as I walked from the lab to the neighboring building (or vice versa).
Today's expedition was spent hunting down an elusive insect that I'll be testing in August. Along with a couple techs from the lab, I was able to gather up several hundred adult insects from a tree in the middle of a strip mall (Urban Entomology: We Have Exotic Destinations!) that I can now mate in a controlled environment so that I have a large population to utilize once my experiments begin.
I really do love fieldwork. I am never as satisfied as when I've spent the whole day outdoors doing research, sweating, and getting sunburned. All in all, it was a good day, and we were able to find exactly what we were looking for. Something I'm still getting used to, though, is the public interaction. Since we were working in a strip mall right outside one of the more popular shops, we had plenty of curious patrons stop and ask why we were shoving ladders into a planter full of waist-high lavender, climbing into the tree and shaking things off the branches into small buckets. Thankfully, one of my coworkers is far more social than I am, so she was able to field a majority of the questions while I just stayed in the back and continued to beat on the tree with my stick.
There was one thing that perplexed me, though (and this is not the first or even second time this has happened): most of the people that stopped to ask what we were doing had no idea what my coworker was talking about (this is not the perplexing part, FYI), but they all listened politely, since they did ask, and then every one of them nodded and said, sincerely, "Wow, thanks for doing what you do." (This was the perplexing part.) Not to bee (too) cynical, but this is really never the reaction I expect. Honestly, I would think reactions like "Oh, interesting." or "That's cool." or "Huh..." or even a blank stare would be more common. But it seems like, without fail, people seem to pick up on the fact that this is important research, even if they don't understand exactly what it is. I mean, I know I'm doing important work, I guess I just don't really expect other people to understand it's important, too.
Then, there are the people that try to pass off as knowing exactly what you're talking about (I'm looking at you, fast-food-server-lady we met at lunch). And they're just funny.
Pro tip: instead of acting like you're super smart (like looking at the cage with the clear top and saying, smugly, "Those are plants, aren't they? I studied those when I went to college.") admit you're not entirely sure on the topic, but you're interested and want to know more. Otherwise you just end up looking like an idiot to those people who actually do know what they're talking about. And then they laugh all the way home and write a blog about it.
And I think I'll leave it there for today; I've plants to tend and bugs to mate now that I'm back in my little hole. Maybe I'll see daylight again someday...
Thursday, June 20, 2013
You're In!
Hi! I'm Aidan. I'm a gamer, a total fantasy & sci-fi geek, and generally a world class nerd. I love to bake (but more on that later). And I'm a recently admitted Masters candidate at UC Riverside.
For the past several years, I've worked as a lab technician. It wasn't always (okay, it was rarely) the most glamorous job in the world, but it was a steady paycheck when the economy got all wibbly-wobbly, and I kept telling myself that it was only a temporary deal anyways. Just until I got into grad school. Yep, any day now I would be done with lab chores and on to research that I was actually interested in... aaaany time now...
I spent the years just biding my time. I would be lying if I said it was a waste of time --don't get me wrong, I really did learn a LOT, and got tons of research experience besides-- but every Fall, as I watched all the new grad students infiltrating campus, I couldn't help feeling a little pang of desperation that I wasn't among their ranks, on this campus or anywhere else.
But now my time has finally come. I was somehow lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time to take up the project that will get me through this leg of grad school. After half a decade of being stagnant, I find myself hurtling forward at breakneck speed (which I'll admit is a little terrifying) toward reaching my dusty yet still-intact goals.
I don't think I'll ever forget the first time I read my acceptance letter (or rather, acceptance email nowadays): "We are pleased to welcome you into the Entomology graduate program as a Dean's Distinguished Fellow..." Wow. Me? Distinguished? Two years' full funding plus stipend? All the rejection letters from previous years seemed to just melt away (except for CSUSD, that one hurt).
So now I'm on my way, but I'm predicting my road to enlightenment will also drive me a bit insane. So this is my SOS to the world, my message in a bottle.
Greetings from Grad School! Weather's beautiful, wish you were here!
Greetings from Grad School! Weather's beautiful, wish you were here!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)