Not owning a TV for the last several years has made it rather difficult to stay abreast on current events. Nonetheless, one guilty pleasure is to watch Comedy Central’s original programming as much as possible. For news, I’d rather not watch the standard, boring news foretelling impending doom – at least, not without a comedic twist. Therefore, I rely heavily on John Stewart and Stephen Colbert for my information.

Originally, I thought Stephen Colbert was the more amusing of the two. Lately, I think his antics have become a bit much. It really boils down to his character as an unabashed narcissist; yet, what makes him so successful is probably that he resonates well with the “Brand of Me” culture ubiquitous amongst the up-and-coming Yuppie crowd.

For artists, authors, and others who rely on their creative talent and branding to be successful, creating an image and putting it out to the world is essential. Therefore, I can respect figures such as Stephen Colbert jumping at every opportunity to have everything under the sun named after him (even an entire species – of spider). What makes his character less amusing, however, is the advice that’s dished out to young professionals about creating this own “brand” of uniqueness to set themselves apart from the crowd.

As such, I feel like an outdated traditionalist past his time. In most settings, there’s absolutely no requirement to try to express unbridled individuality at every moment. While useful in some settings, people aren’t all that much different from each other. Individual circumstances may vary, but for the vast majority of people, there isn’t much about one particular person that sets him apart from the crowd. This isn’t to say that people don’t differ – each person has a unique connection of talents, virtues, and shortcomings; but to think of one person as radically different from the next is fallacious.

If given the opportunity, people can do incredible things to rise to the challenge. For every Stephen Colbert, there’s probably a dozen New Yorkers who could put on his act just as well as he. However, by patience, luck, and his personality, he managed to become a cultural icon.

For those of us who aren’t such icons, such rugged individualism is downright obnoxious outside of the artistic domain. The “artistic license” ends the moment the cameras go off, the pen / paintbrushes are put down, and the instruments are stowed away. While designated areas are appropriate for expressing one’s individuality, life, in general, is not a stage – but an opportunity to work together.

With so many people indoctrinated that they’re unique snowflakes, such influences should also hang the “de-motivational poster” disclaimer (“just like everyone else”) to preserve a little humility. While narcissism may call attention to oneself, it doesn’t win respect. Unless a person really can accomplish everything they set out for in life alone, it’s a dangerous and lonesome road upon which to embark. Not all of us are Howard Roark, and even if we think we are, it’s a pretty dysfunctional life full of hardship and alienation.

While self-esteem can be a protective factor that enables people to take certain risks and be shielded from a certain amount of failure, it rarely increases performance as many positive-energy-thinkers do. There is an average, and most people will fall into it upon any particular axis. Deluding ourselves to think otherwise sets us up for failure. A culture that insists that everyone ought to be in the spotlight at all times will eventually outdo itself with senseless competition. It’s near impossible to appreciate the efforts of others when focused on oneself.

By all means, It’s fine to take credit when credit’s due, but respect can be earned by wisdom and expertise gained from cooperation. While competition is useful under some circumstances, it’s not meant to cattle prod people into overdrive all the time. That’s when people ultimately burn out, self-destruct, and have to face the real dark spectre of failure without a life preserver.

That said, Stephen Colbert probably would have gotten my vote for President. Maybe.

Tonight marks the conclusion of the last day with my project at Cowen and Company. My “tour of duty” was extended an additional week, and while I was a little bit surprised we went over-schedule, it wasn’t a complete shock. I was the only consultant left behind chosen to deal with tying up a few loose ends, but which ends could have made or broken our relationship with them. Ironic how I, the “new guy,” ended up in that position. In all, I’m quite honoured, it hasn’t quite hit home that I’m finally leaving the place.

The most difficult challenge I ended up facing as a new consultant wasn’t so much the workload, but rather managing expectations. There was absolutely no rubric upon entering this project to which I could measure myself and give a firm answer as to whether I was performing well. There were a few moments of encouragement, but the real feedback didn’t start showing up until almost the very end of the assignment. What was supposedly a “routine upgrade” turned out to be a royal pain, whilst we encountered many undocumented problems that weren’t anticipated, and which we struggled to satisfactorily resolve.

It’s hard to measure one’s output against the simple metric of, “is it working?” At least in my opinion, if the answer is “No,” there is still work to do. Furthermore, when there’s a certain deadline on which one must deliver something in a pristine state, even a minor blemish is amplified from being a mere hanging chad to a feeling like it nullifies the entire progress to date, in my opinion. When it comes to these situations, I am whole-heartedly a perfectionist. I’m extremely uneasy if something isn’t flawless. Maybe in time I’ll gain some perspective, but as it stands, it really sunk my self-confidence on a lot of days when perhaps it shouldn’t.

I should be happy. I’m free from having this project be my primary concern. I was able to pretty much resolve any problems they were aware of, and therefore I can rest peacefully. There’s a minor problem that remains yet unsolved, but it’s not likely to have rested on our shoulders anyway – it’s a problem that’s almost entirely beyond our control, so we think. Therefore, I must let go…

Several of the Cowen project managers and QA staff treated me to lunch yesterday, and seemed genuinely sad to see me leave this afternoon. They pretty much assured me if they required any further assistance from our department, I’ll be at the top of their “to-call” list.

Even though I think most of us broke out the metaphorical champagne glasses last weekend, and I was pretty much paid the highest complement a consultant could, I was still very nervous this week. While I didn’t necessarily want to leave, I knew that my presence was a favour. However, should any new problems arise, it was my sole responsibility to take over the expertise of the other two team members who worked on very different subsystems. I could only pray that something major wouldn’t break, and a few unforeseen problems did arise. Thankfully, they turned out to be quite minor, but they could have been much bigger.

I think I must have a problem. Sometimes, I have absolutely no confidence in my work. I worry about things that are entirely beyond my control, and even when there are precautions I can take, I’m constantly second-guessing myself. Perhaps that’s the problem with being a scientist – one can never prove anything, except in math. Theories can only be disproven. It doesn’t matter if things have been going wonderfully for the last few weeks, for who knows what the future holds?

Now I return to our company’s main office, where I basically sit in a holding pattern waiting to hear about my new assignment. Still, in spite of the many cities that have been mentioned, nothing’s official. Companies are always looking for a way to cut costs, and that many times involves delaying projects from starting, changing their location, length, or scope. With the exception of my previous team-mates and project manager, I don’t think anyone within the company has a clue what I accomplished. It’s back to the drawing board with a clean slate, and I only hope that people remember everything come my year-end review in little more than a month.

A part of me feels like celebrating, yet there’s really nobody I can call to hang out with on a moment’s notice. So here I am, writing. Is this the life of a businessman?
Speaking of which, the stream-of-consciousness session is time address another friend’s remark. While I commonly enjoyed the person’s companionship at Berkeley, sometimes I really think she can be off the mark. We were conversing online the other evening, and I was telling her a little bit about how things were going, including the success I’ve had tutoring after work. In spite of everything, she her positive feedback was subdued by her qualification of, “you have to have the entrepreneurial spirit.” Perhaps I have to add this person to my list of overprotective friends who really underestimate my abilities, especially when this is a service I’ve provided for over six years, about a venture which success has only been limited by my free time. Several months ago, she discouraged me from considering an MBA programme, in spite of the fact that my company would probably pay for most of the tuition, simply because she didn’t think I had “the right personality” or “leadership skills.” What she fails to understand is that there are many highly effective leadership styles, and even while I’m not going out there trying to show off my influence at every moment, few people who’ve ever worked with me would question those abilities. I usually don’t start becoming an outspoken leader in a project unless I’m almost absolutely certain I’ll succeed. Until then, I’m happy letting other people shine. Even if a project’s success relies heavily on me, I’m careful to let others have room for their input and to have a chance to shine.

If that weren’t enough, now I’m more curious than ever to learn about how to use the stock market to my advantage. There’s just a daunting bit of information to keep track of; I have no idea how I’ll be able to analyse anything and make solid choices. I doubt I’ll do very much to invest directly in the market until I’m confident that I know how to make informed decisions, so I’ll just allow my current mutual fund picks (with paltry balances) work for me in the interim. However, it’d be nice to learn how to do something that quite frankly so many people seem to know a great deal about. I’ve signed up for a free stock-market game on Investopedia that gives me the ability to manage $100,000 at the start. The last two days have been dismal failures, but who knows, maybe I’ll learn something eventually. The people who do best at the game seem to conduct a great deal of options trading. Now, more than ever, I feel compelled to pick one of my friend’s brains and know how it’s done…

Why does it really matter? Beyond the personal finance reasons, I’d like to honestly know how people use my company’s software. It’s ridiculous to know how to set it up properly, test it out, but not know how people trading millions of shares each day use it. If anything, it’ll help me speak to traders down the road, which can be a pretty demanding bunch. It’s hard to find one with any technical knowledge, as it’s difficult to find a technical person with any business knowledge. Eventually, I’d like to change that about myself.

Damn, I really am a Yuppie.

Somehow it doesn’t surprise me that yet another leader has become tarnished with scandal. Particularly, I’m referring to Eliot Spitzer, Governor of New York. In the tradition of having a “wide stance” on morality that separates public and private life, his actions have nonetheless caught up with gaining public attention.

Having been a recent transplant to New York, and one who doesn’t closely follow politics – especially when I’m still feeling like something of a transient, he has earned the reputation of somebody who’s seemingly championed the cause of weeding out corruption.

Amongst his pet projects, he’s sought to investigate Wall Street tycoons and banks who’re largely responsible for the subprime meltdown and financial chaos crippling the economy. Reading up a little about him, he has a good record of being a consumer advocate, going after the corporate doublespeak where “taking it seriously” has devolved into a snarkfest amongst many.

There are two layers of irony. A person who claims tackle crime and corruption, even with respect to prostitution, falls into the very trap his platform desires to eradicate. (Maybe it’s a case of Freudian projection, but at the time, there’s yet no evidence suggesting his extramarital liaisons were a habit.) This category is what makes it difficult for constituents to trust his judgement in holding office. In this sense, I’m less forgiving than I’ve been with President Clinton’s scandal, since the latter's affair was consensual, legal, and none of the public’s business.

The other irony, somewhat more disturbing, is examining who gains from Spitzer’s scandal. Instead of feeling a general sense of victory, it’s going to be Wall Street who serves most to gain by Spitzer’s departure. Thankfully, while the FBI has been scrutinising several investment banks for possible fraud, it never hurts to have State pressure applied as well. While they may not be clear, they stand to be relieved of a menacing adversary.

So while people debate over the prostitution issue, it masks a much broader picture. There’s no guarantee that any possible successor to Spitzer will be any less corrupt – as corruption can take many forms as well as degrees. However, the chances that a person who will replace Spitzer with the knowledge and determination to address urgent problems that affect millions of people is much less likely.

It’s hard to see who wins if Spitzer resigns, and whether the vast majority of us would be better off.

Imagine growing up in a boarding school. You’re completely cut off from the entire world, and while you have every available chance to learn and play with your classmates, you’re always kept at arm’s length by your teachers. Add in the fact that somehow you’re told you’re “very special” and have to be very careful throughout life when it comes to common-sense things like not smoking or having unprotected sex, but somehow it’s more important for you than others. While you’re treated as a privilege class, there’s an eerie suspicion that eclipses your idyllic lifestyle foreshadowing a grim truth in the distant future.

If this sounds intriguing, then checking out a copy of Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro is well worth your time. In its presentation of a reality that’s close to ours, but still mysteriously and ominously different, it reminds me of the probing innocence and discovery that one finds in The Giver by Lois Lowry. In some regards, it’s a little closer to home.

While the narrator chooses to play her cards close for a while, being intentionally vague with descriptions, such as herself being a “carer,” it doesn’t take very long to catch onto the general scheme, and therefore I don’t feel incredibly guilty about spoiling much. A group of children are followed throughout their life from childhood as they become aware that their raison d'être is solely for organ harvesting. The chosen “students” are prescribed a complete cradle-to-grave programme to provide a leisurely life, only to sacrifice themselves before even reaching middle age. All this happens without having any meaningful interaction with the outside world.

While the rationale about the elaborate lengths that a handful of dedicated people went through to execute the programme “humanely,” it isn’t quite clear what their connection with the outside world is. Everyone simply begins donating their internal organs when they’re called upon, particularly very young. Never once does is an actual organ recipient mentioned, and it’s only briefly alluded to that people from the lowest socioeconomic classes and/or the morally depraved were chosen to be “clone models.” Additionally, each clone child is sterile.

For this reason, it’s uncertain why the lower classes would be chosen to benefit from organ harvesting, although if moral depravity was part of their inclusion criteria, it may be fitting to have your carbon copy waiting to be beckoned to save you from yourself. However, it doesn’t quite seem that clear. None of the students are known to be excused from donations, therefore it’s not certain who the children are and for whom they serve, adding to the isolation.

The children definitely wonder about one lies ahead, but they’re also quite perceptive and begin to catch on fairly young at what fate lies for them. Oddly enough, the students don’t tend to react strongly against the news. There’s not one hint of protest, or even an inkling of questioning. As young adults becoming aware of the entire process, they’re more curious to discover their “possibles” (clone models) and eager to begin the next stage of their lives.

By most standards, the children appear to be remarkably normal. They appear to be rather athletic, creative, smart, and intelligent. They seem to know much about the world that lies beyond their isolation. However, they are never that curious to engage it. Simply knowing about the world rather than first-hand experience seems enough. They move on, take on a job that’s assigned to them, and appear to want to do the best they can. Like before, they give everything its due, and then willingly advance to the next stage.

It’s disturbing how little resistance there is to the idea of self-sacrifice. They may even believe, as they’ve been told, that it’s an honour and a privilege in spite of its obvious pitfalls. Instead of draconic measures, control seems to be far more passive and decentralised, relying exclusively on peer pressure and weak recommendations. Nobody appears to suffer any punishment, and especially once the children leave their boarding school, there’s no reason to believe they could simply wander away and disappear amongst the rest of civilisation without any consequences… and yet, nobody does.

The group are brainwashed into loving who they are, and embracing their life purpose. Perhaps it lends credence to the power of isolation, and how fragile and arbitrary any societal structure can be. It becomes clear how a child may be reared as a part of a cult, only to be released from its control, but reject his/her newfound freedom. Less dramatically, the process slowly reveals how easily people submit to absurd and harmful things, from an outsider’s perspective, solely based on a diffuse expectation and not necessity. People toil over jobs they hate, stay married to people they have trouble getting along with, raise families, buy big-ticket items like fancy homes and cars, obtain advanced degrees, associate with one group of people while distancing oneself from another, all predicated on expectation that it’s “simply the way it’s done.” Making choices that don’t sit well with our fulfillment, however, is like digging a little grave each day, much like these characters who march on.

Also evident are how people can convince themselves that they’re acting on the best interest of others from their perspective, but take the wrong measures, or simply don’t go far enough. It becomes apparent later that many other “donors” grew up in conditions far worse than the main characters. The exaltation that the protagonists experience among the other donors is simply due to fact that their formative years were spent in better conditions than the rest. While the boarding school staff may feel justified in their commitment to provide a lifestyle approaching normal for some youngsters, crusading on behalf of the clone children that they indeed have souls and ought to be treated compassionately, they uphold their "ultimate fate" comforting themselves that other people have it much worse.

This is all without touching the larger issue over medical ethics resulting from cloning human beings for treating disease. While the novel may be considered a strong endorsement to ban cloning and perhaps some practices involving embryonic stem cell research and genetic engineering, it would be a loss to simply distill it down to that alone. It’s a wonderfully rich and engaging novel in spite of its macabre nature. Maybe it’ll even be one of those things which you may never let it go.

Hrmm,

Suddenly I don't feel quite so ripped off on the housing situation... or do I? Who actually has this much money lying around to afford paying rent in Manhattan?

http://www.tregny.com/year_end_report_2007.jsp

Perhaps it'll be a while before considering a doorman building... Housing crisis, can you make rental property values plummet, too? kthx.

A few weeks ago, some friends of mine held a wine-tasting event for bottles on a budget. The thirteen bottles of wine up for scrutiny amounted to almost $33. Several of the people there are involved in journalism, including a few people from The New York Times and Radar Magazine.

Radar funded the research, and the results are published online.
Wine on a Dime

(P.S. The author was my apartment broker.)

Not bad! My name was even mentioned as a part of the tasting panel! Research is fun :)

Well, apparently squirrels have a newly discovered function that's useful for humans. If you keep an army of squirrels around you at all times while in the middle of the desert, you may be protected from rattlesnakes:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070814/ap_on_sc/hot_tail;_ylt=AhJ2pRS5J75RlQGVfQsjwbsDW7oF

The reason? Adult squirrels have evolved a defense mechanism to ward off snakes by shaking their warm, bushy tails which indicate that a predatory snake has been detected. Snakes sense infrared heat. Furthermore, adult squirrels are immune to rattlesnake venom. As an aside, could there be a new treatment for snake venom that would come from the secrets of the squirrel?

Perhaps not a big deal around climates that receive a lot of water, snakes are pretty common in California. Therefore, I feel one more reason to feel delighted when I see a pack of bushy-tailed creatures.

Even though yesterday started off to be rather unpleasant, the day improved as it went on. I also neglected to mention a few very positive things that happened during the weekend.

Classes of not unreasonable difficulty are a prophylaxis for boredom. I suppose my chemistry course was even a part of it, since despite the tedium of writing lab reports, learning about how to find trace elements in sample is interesting, especially in forensic science applications. Once electrochemical techniques were elucidated – what they describe, and what they don’t – experiments began to make more sense. Furthermore, the GSIs were speaking with the professor after class about anomalies found during people’s experiments. I had my data right and hand, so they were able to verify that something was definitely amiss for everyone in that experiment. I’m hoping their discovery offers some leniency on that report.

My social and developmental psychology courses continue to overlap a great deal. This isn’t surprising, since developmental psych is concerned with the social development of children. The regular professor’s still ill in developmental psych, so one of the GSIs took over the lecture. I suppose she’s a fairly good lecturer… and considering she and I are probably nearly the same age, I admire her speaking ability. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss last weeks’ guest lecturer, since she was a great speaker, and clearly an expert in her field. Midterms for Developmental Psych were passed back today, and I’m thrilled to have done very well on it. Hard work continues to pay off.

On the otherhand, the saga with The Rude Kid continues. I’ll have to end the situation very soon, because now he’s continuing to behave more inappropriately each day. Berkeley students are competitive, afterall! I showed up to the room about five minutes before the other class should have been dismissed, only to find the class before us (Chemistry 4B) had let out early. The Rude Kid was already sitting in “his” seat, with a friend. Fair enough, if he arrives before me, that’s perfectly okay, he’s entitled to it under those circumstances. However, I sat about seven or eight seats away in the same row, when he begins speaking in Spanish to someone sitting next to him about me. An Asian girl was sitting behind him, not understanding what he’s saying, he turns to her and says, “That’s okay. We speak Spanish as a security measure, so that people can’t understand us.” His voice pierces through the auditorium like a knife, and little did he know, but I’ve taken four years of Spanish still manage to have enough comprehension to understand what people are discussing. After being cautious and hearing “silla,” “asiento,” and location terms “a la izquierda,” “Le dije que eso [insert verb] mio” – there was absolutely no disputing that I was understood exactly what he was saying. I looked at him and said, “You know, I speak Spanish and know you’re talking about me.” He turns to me and tries to deny it. I told him he’s lying, and he doesn’t back down his position. I’m sorry, but this guy has major issues.

My first lab report for Chemistry 105 is finally done, even if it’s being turned in a little late. The penalty isn’t too bad, but it’s bona fide progress towards graduation. The next one’s due Monday, but this writeup is on Atomic Absorption Spectroscopy, a topic I know far more about, and the results are far less ambiguous, I hope.

Yesterday, I met inithica for the first time. While there was a little cross-talk about meeting up (thanks in part to Evil Sprint), we improvised and had sushi instead. It’s always a treat to meet other cool people, especially given that it’s hard to do so under normal circumstances, and thus am thrilled to have made a new friend.

Sami has also been very helpful lately in helping me out on my job search in New York. I’ve been a bit distracted with midterms, projects, and tutoring students lately, so she took the initiative to send my resume and CV out to many of her friends who’re professionals and might have job openings at their company. So far, two of them have responded with leads I may have to follow up on. Also, The Boylston Group in San Francisco, has left four messages in the last month regarding various openings about the Bay Area, although I call them back and tell them I’m looking for openings in New York. They gave me the contact of their sister organisation, Remington International, another avenue I must pursue. Right about now, anything related in software or website development or consulting, especially in the scientific sector, would be a good technology-based job. The scientific research is definitely going to be in my court.

Yet I had another conversation with the amazing guest lecturer for Developmental Psychology. Apparently, the regular professor’s quite ill with pneumonia, and thus we’re being taught by a series of leading experts(!) that only UC Berkeley and other prestigious institutions can attract. Towards the end of class, the professor briefly mentioned autism and Autism Spectrum Disorders, and thus I had an opportunity to ask her about some of my concerns related to Asberger’s Syndrome that’ve been lying dormant for some time. The DSM-IV tends to diagnose the condition vaguely and in ways that appear to be largely subjective towards societial standards, so I was interested to hear more about “real world examples” of people who have the disorder, since in theory so many scientists and “gifted” people resemble the diagnostic criteria. Perhaps my fears have been set aside, a little, since there seems to be at least moderate impairment involved with understanding other people’s emotions and intentions, which is very different from being generally “socially awkward.” I hope she continues to be around, I’m curious to find out more about what she’s studying, or maybe if she knows people conducting psychological research on the East Coast. She’s definitely willing to set people in the right direction. Though one thing became clear: professors always ask students (especially in multidisciplinary fields) what their major is. I replied honestly (Biochemistry), but it doesn’t paint the full picture (namely, emphasis on neuroscience, molecular cell biology, psychology, and computer science). This is apparent since she’s made several allusions to computers and correlates between the brain and computation. What does one say when a person’s has such a broad background that one’s major, or job, cannot even begin to really define himself? Interviews for medical schools, jobs, and research opportunities are definitely going to ask these questions, so I should learn how to reply without selling myself short. People in charge of admissions or hiring don’t want to hear everyone’s life story, in fact their decisions are made fairly quickly.

Time to fix dinner and then crash. Thank goodness these tedious nights will hopefully only last another couple months. :P

So maybe my Monday began a little earlier than usual at midnight this morning, but life’s definitely continued to be a little annoying lately.

This morning started off in a brief episode of sheer terror. After climbing out of bed to pack up my computer, I was checking my e-mail before heading out the door when my power adapter suddenly stopped working. I checked cable and all the connections, and plugged the cord into another outlet to no avail. I even allowed the transformer to “cool down” for about 10 minutes before trying again, although this test also failed. My laptop’s still under warranty, but without a working laptop and no easy alternative, even going into work would be difficult, since all my applications and data are saved on this terminal. I started to take inventory of everything that I would need to pull off the computer and e-mail to myself, to get through the next few days, until Dell could send a replacement.

After this morning’s chemistry lecture, I went into the lounge in order to start e-mailing a few documents. Just to be sure, I attempted to plug in the power adapter to see if it still didn’t function. To my surprise, it worked! Still, I contacted Dell Tech Support and described the problem, so they’re sending me out a replacement – which I want, in case there continue to be problems with the one I have.

Speaking of chemistry, the professor just begun lecturing on electrochemistry analysis – the lab that my group had just turned in without much of a clue how to accomplish. That’s just lovely, because once he spent some time on the topic, things started to make sense. Trying to figure out how to accomplish something before one has the tools to analyse the problem is something reserved, in this case, for the electrochemists. Most of us probably have little, if any, exposure to electrochemical analysis, and it’s a field in which one can focus their entire doctoral studies in. As I explained to a friend last night, if I had the option of studying electrochemistry, or having my wisdom teeth pulled, I’d choose the dentist as it’s the least painful of the two options (in the way it was presented, at any rate.)

Another hiccup with the chemistry lab – the report that I’d have a very easy time writing up had an unforseen snafu, since not all of the standard solutions to run our unknown sample were prepared. We have to reserve another lab period to use the Atomic Absorption Spectrometer, after we prepare our Iron standards. I thought we were done with this experiment, and I probably would have written that one up in lieu of the electrochemistry, simply because the EC hadn’t been introduced in class yet. As a group, we have to really be on each other to make sure that everything’s done correctly, since there appears to be a lot of cross-talk. Alas, deadlines.

The Annoying Kid strikes again. He did his usual routine of sitting the seat next to me, even though there were plenty of open spaces, and commenting to somebody behind him how it bothers him that someone is sitting in “his” seat. However, today he ends up inching his notebook onto my desk – so much so that half of it was practically supported by my desk. Perhaps in his view, I’m asking for it, but he has absolutely no manners.

To end on a positive note, I met with a new tutoring student who’s really nice, and the tutoring agency’s looking to give me more hours. Also, last night, my roommate, her boyfriend, and I brought an old, clunky laptop down to the hot tub and watched Russian Dolls on DVD, for the geekiest entertainment ever. We’re not ashamed! :P

Hopefully the rest of the week begins to look up.

Some people either have a serious chip on their shoulder, or clearly are unconcerned about how they come off to other people. Even though I think most people are generally pretty good-natured, even if they’re not going out of their way to love their neighbours, there are occasionally a few instances that make one shake their head and ask, “What the fuck?”

Example 1: At the Coffee Shop
This evening in Tully’s, a man had just purchased tea from the counter. My friend Jessica, the barista (not Jessica, the bartender), was cleaning up tables and noticed the man pouring the tea out into the trash can. Jessica asked him, “Oh, did we put too much water in there? I can pour a little out in the sink behind the counter if you’d like.” The man didn’t acknowledge her, and continued pouring into the trash can. Jessica spoke again, “That trash can leaks, and it will make a big mess. Please don't do that.” He was not deterred. Nonetheless, he understood enough to glare at her as he was finished with his business. If this man appeared to be homeless, deaf, or otherwise mentally ill, that wouldn’t be an issue. However, he was a well-groomed, somewhat young professional.

Example 2: The annoying kid in class
Maybe if the first person can receive some sympathy because maybe he had a bad day, the second guy exhibits his rude, obnoxious behaviour on a daily basis. My classes are usually in large lecture halls, seating several hundred students. I’ve also been known to sit in one of the first few rows, near the centre, consistently in every class.

Enter the rude kid.

A few weeks ago, out of the clear blue, he sits directly in the seat next to me (leaving no buffer zone, despite having about half a dozen chairs on either side of him), and makes an off-handed comment to his “buddies” behind him about how awkward it is to sit next to someone he doesn’t know. Then he turns to me and says, “You’re sitting in my seat.” I nodded nonchalantly, and proceeded to ignore him.

Two classes ago, I’m sitting in pretty much the same chair, and he sits next two seats to my right. Just before the lecture, he’s chatting with different people in the row behind us (who don’t really seem that fond of him), and he leans in my direction and says, “Thank you for not sitting in my seat.”

I couldn’t think of anything more obnoxious. I looked at him and replied, “Well, thanks, but I didn’t do anything. It’s not like we have assigned seats or anything.” Undeterred, he responded, “I know, but it’s still where I sit.”

This interlude called for one thing. Take his seat. That’s precisely what I did yesterday.

How did it go, you may ask? Well, he was passive-aggressive about it. He sat in the chair right next to me, leaned back to talk to two people in the row behind him, on average a distance of 4 chairs to his left or right, to say how weird it is, again, to sit next to someone he doesn’t know. This time, I said, “Well, why don’t you join your friends behind you? It must be very inconvenient to have to look behind you and strain yourself to talk with them.” He responded, ‘Well, I remembered thanking you for not sitting in my seat the other day. But that’s okay, you can sit by me even if I don’t know you. Lots of people want to sit by me.” The nerve of him!

Or maybe he’s gay and trying to hit on me.

I think the guy just lost his seat for the rest of the course. He must not be accustomed to not having his way. It might be time that he learns a valuable life lesson. Had he not made such a fuss, I wouldn’t have ever noticed.

Either way, he’s going to be quite disappointed, and I really don’t care.

Your Extroversion Profile:

Sociability: High

Activity Level: Medium

Assertiveness: Low

Cheerfulness: Very Low

Excitement Seeking: Very Low

Friendliness: Very Low

You Are a Husky Puppy

Sweet, affectionate, and docile. But when you see a cat or chicken, it's kill kill kill!!!

Your Dominant Intelligence is Interpersonal Intelligence

You shine in your ability to realate to and understand others. Good at seeing others' points of view, you get how people think and feel. You have an uncanny ability to sense true feelings, intentions, and motivations. A natural born leader, you are great at teaching and mediating conflict. You would make a good counselor, salesperson, politician, or business person.

You are 100% Sagittarius

Your Personality Is Like Acid

A bit wacky, you're very difficult to predict. One moment you're in your own little happy universe... And the next, you're on a bad trip to your own personal hell!

I’m back in Long Beach, and whatever heinous flu I was battling before departing decided to give me a break before heading down to Southern California. Wednesday evening, I arrived greeted by my parents at the airport, and checked into La Casa de Smith for my brief stay. Even though it hasn’t been too long since I’ve been in town for Thanksgiving, many things have changed significantly.

Apparently, my brother’s going through some major life changes. If there were ever a period in a person’s life when they’ve completely changed their course overnight, my brother epitomises that example. Almost overnight, he decided to quit his job, move back in with my parents, and break up with his girlfriend, while saving expenses and attending school. For those who are aware of my brother’s battles with higher education, this change divests him completely from the “I’ll earn my degree after I’ve built up my career” approach. It’s going to be quite an adjustment in shifting to a lifestyle to where he will be forced to live on an extremely limited income, although nothing could delight my family more than to see him return to college.

The evening I arrived consisted little more than having dinner and talking with my parents, followed by bedtime. At least in coming this direction, that first day always seems to be null and void, in terms of planning anything special on the agenda. Contributing to the inactivity is that I still rely on Benadryl to keep from coughing and sneezing the entire time home, and having major problems with asthma. Even though I’ve been partially reacclaimated to felines in my apartment in the Bay Area, there’s something about this household that causes problems every time (even though last Thanksgiving and this trip have been far less severe).

My birthday was very quiet, as well. Actually, until dinner rolled around, the only notable thing that I did was to make out my first batch of holiday cards. I was trying to be good this year by making sure I had bought everything and sent them all out in time to arrive before Christmas, but last week’s flu put that idea out of commission. Nonetheless, they’re on their way. Dinner was my favourite dish: macaroni and cheese, and my parents made a chocolate cake, which is always delicious. My parents chipped in to buy me a 4GB USB flash drive, which is quite useful, but never something I bought for myself. It’s large enough to be a considerable amount of storage on the go – unlike the memory stick my father has (only 512MB – which can’t even hold a feature-length movie.)

The coffee shop across the street has finally hired a new group of females. For those who live around me, my brother nad I used to dub the place the “Lesbian Coffee Shop” since the owners and managers are outspoken lesbians, and hired an almost-exclusively gay/lesbian staff. Nonetheless, they have the best coffee of anywhere I’ve tasted so far, so returning home is almost worth it for their coffee alone. In the last year or so, their lesbian staff had been declining, instead replacing them with a bunch of gay guys. While sexual orientation has never been an issue, I always liked the women they hired, so it was a shame to see them slowly move onto other things. This trip home, they’ve apparently hired a few more women, and as par with the course, they’re rather amazing. It’s nice to see they finally qualify for the “Lesbian Coffee Shop” title again, as I was only moments away from abandoning the nickname.

Yesterday revolved around meeting an old friend from high school for coffee, whom I haven’t seen in many years, and then attending a potluck with another group of high school/college friends. The guy I had coffee with ironically lives in San Francisco at the moment, although he’s a part of the Job Corps under some rather restrictive regulations which only permit him to be out until certain hours, even though he’s fully an adult. He’s had a difficult time finding work and pursuing education, so he enlisted in a program which gave him an academic background and work experience, so upon graduation he’ll be a competitive part of the workforce. He’s studying Information Technology and hopes to enter into grame programming in the future. He’s doing well, even if finances are a bit difficult, but he’s starting his first paying job in January, about which he’s stoked. The potluck gathering was with another group of people with whom I went to high school and Long Beach City College. Every year, they seem to gather at his house to celebrate another year since graduating LBCC. We’ve split off, with most of us either attending UCLA, Berkeley, or Cal State Long Beach, and most of us are doing something in either biology or chemistry. A few of my friends have already graduated, although most of them are still earning their Bachelors for one reason or another. One of the guests was also hosting a party back at his condo on Ocean Blvd, and invited the rest of us to tailgate over there. His condo overlooks the ocean, and takes up a good portion of the third floor of his complex. Next door, there was another Christmas party that his neighbours were celebrating, apparently most of the guestlist including local doctors and lawyers. I cannot help but feel extremely jealous of these people, including the friend who owns the condo by the ocean. As far as I know, this person hasn’t done much productive in his life, nor really struck upon a career that’s brought him into wealth. He’s gone back to school three times for radically different, and unrelated, disciplines. Compared to the difficulties that most everyone I know experiences getting by, it hurts to see how much I cannot afford. I’m hardly a materialistic person, but there’s a part of me that believes that one’s wealth should be determined by their contribution to society. Too often, that’s not the case, and even it can be said that I’ve been rather spoiled when it comes to educational opportunities of which I’ve neglected to take full advantage. Still, seeing a bunch of wealthy happy people did little to instill the Christmas cheer. Instead, I walked away feeling as though my tail were between my legs. Bah humbug.

I had planned on seeing a few more people before I headed off to New York, but those efforts have fallen through. Oh well, just a few more days before I leave. I might as well just relax and have a good time while I’m here, and not rely on it being filled with estranged friends. Besides, I feel proud that in my entire trip home, I’ve spent less than $20, with yesterday incurring the most expense, for a potluck contribution. Maybe there I’ll find a little more Christmas Cheer.

I look forward to helping my brother become situated with school in the Spring. He’s already reading a Psychology textbook on the chair to my left (from his last attempt a few years ago), so things are looking good.

I’ve been meaning to address this issue for the last several days, but previous obligations kept me from addressing the topic of “Pro-Ana.” A friend of mine wrote in her journal after she came across a list of web sites that advocate anorexia and other eating disorders as a “positive life choice.” Oddly enough, while this friend happens to be one of the most liberally-minded people I know, even this she found appalling. I thought I might as well weigh in on the issue, too, since it’s something that’s been a sensitive issue with me for a while.

Beware that the following commentary is one of the relatively rare cases in which I may come off as blatantly harsh and judgmental of a group of people’s beliefs. I realise that anorexia and bulimia are issues that permeate the lives of many people, and chances are each of us know a person who has gone through these issues at one point. Therefore, if you feel such criticism will unduly anger you, please do not continue to read. However, if you have thoughtful criticism, and invite me to look at the situation in a new way, I am open to receive it.
( Read on... )

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Few things are more annoying than staying at home and not even having the energy to blog. Perhaps my days of limitless supplies of energy to use a computer are over, but there are a number of things I've sought to accomplish this weekend and simply felt too drained.

On Saturday, I felt considerably better than Friday, so I made it out to my birthday celebration that my friends in Northern California put together. Despite some people's advice, I felt it was important to make it out since it's the first time anyone's ever put forth the effort to do that for me, and secondly, by this time next year - I'll be on the other coast. I'd hate to let a nasty flu virus stand in the way of a milestone.

Today was spent mostly around the apartment, with a lot of napping. Hopefully I'll get around to finally filling out and sending holiday cards to several people tomorrow, as well as making it into Berkeley to run a few last-minute errands.

Until then, goodnight readers. Hope you've all been well.

Date:	2006-12-15 05:15
Subject:	Sick in Bed
Security:	Public
Mood:	sick

The night after my Immunology final, I suddenly come down with the flu.

The ironing is delicious. :)

Well, the gruesome test is over with. I just feel though I’ve been through a war. Over the last weekend, I’ve definitely been conscientious in making sure that I tried to absorb as much as the material as humanly possible. What bothers me is the fact of how so many of my classmates have feigned ignorance and pretended they were clueless and lost in the course. I suppose the reason I’m irked is that upon leaving the exam, I was able to sneak a peak at everyone’s homework grades. From the scores, it looks like everyone was doing pretty well, much different than my situation in which I found it nearly impossible to know how to proceed with even a “basic” problem. Even my friend, who has an aura of being eternally pissed off and on clueless on everything, found all the help she needed to appear as though she was keeping up with the work. Is everyone playing dumb, or are people cheating? Why does it feel like I’m the only one in this course who speaks up honestly about what he knows, and what he doesn’t know.

Afterall, it wasn’t as though everyone did well on the midterm, and I miserably failed it. No, I was slightly below the mean, which means my case should have been very typical. There were no “star” students, nor am I particularly gifted test taker compared to the average Berkeley student. We were all clueless, and yet somehow everyone else managed to turn in near-perfect homework scores including the gal who called me often the night before, claimed she didn’t study, and that she begun the day it was due. Either people are cheating, or they’re being really fucking good liars. If they could complete their homework independently in less than two hours, then they shouldn’t have done so poorly on their midterm.

I’m at a loss for words of hour pissed I am. This class was handled extremely cryptically and and dishonestly. I hate to be the one who sounds like a conspiracy theorist just because I didn’t do well, but I can’t believe that my experiences with interacting with everyone in this class are what they are. No wonder I generally dislike Berkeley science majors. If there were a way these people could get a few extra points for twisting the knife into the backside the person next to them, they’d find a way.

This type of education doesn’t stick. These are not people who walk around the world letting on that they have even the roughest idea of what their class is about. If there were really learning going on, then people wouldn’t be so dependent upon the professors. If you asked them a direct question, they could give you an authoritative answer. I’ve tried, and I haven’t encountered a single person in my class who’s ever been able to demonstrate even the slightest clue of a single problem in this course.

When I do my homework independently, I can easily teach people the steps I took off the top of my head. If I really put the time and struggled through difficult material (assuming it was within my ability), I master it very quickly. It’s fair to assume that this is at least partially true of many of my classmates. I don’t twiddle my thumbs, and have to think much at all during an exam, because I know the material if I put my own work into something.

I hate this class. Give me my C so that I’m one step further away from ever having to deal with this type of crap again. I fully understand medical school can be brutal as well, but at least nothing is very esoteric, or it’s where I have a specific interest and particular talent.

In all fairness, the thing that stings the most: if I had been able to do the homework, I would have probably gotten an A. The final exam was fairly accessible, mostly variations on problems that I’ve seen before. Quite frankly, I think I scored above the mean on this one, though I’m still in shell-shock, and not in a very good mood. I’ll need a few days.

On the bright side, one down, one more to go… and the immunology final should tell a far different story.

After my fifth semestre at Cal, you’d think I would have gotten the hang of how things worked here. Truly, I am insane – the gold standard being that I’ve been doing the same thing over and over again believing that I’ll get different results. Too much information, too little confidence, and a growing sleep deficit all make this season’s “binge and purge” of information quite the rage.

I know better, I really do. Actually, I’ve been doing better. It’s just this nuclear physics course is really kicking everyone’s posterior. The professor and the GSI have been giving the students a good kick in the gluteus maximus by diffusing responsibility for keeping up with students’ concerns and fostering a conducive learning environment.

While I certainly shouldn’t be awarded an A for effort in this class, I’d give myself a B- at least. Considering the difficulty and constant reminder that we (the entire class) suck in the form of grades that would make even the worst slacker in high school be a little more than concerned, this is a considerable achievement. I’ve gone out of my way to at least attend about half of the GSI’s office hours. Still, this only helped with understanding the homework ex post facto.

To make matters worse, today’s review session with the professor was rather interesting. Even though the professor was moderately helpful, aided by the fact it was a Q&A session, one of the students asked the professor if the answers to the homework problem sets and the midterm would be posted anywhere. Professor Cerny laughed, saying “Oh! I wasn’t even aware! Somebody should be made a comment about that a long time ago.” We did…. Trust me. According to our GSI, they weren’t even going to be posted unless Professor Cerny said otherwise. Professor blames GSI. GSI blames professor. This is a sinking ship, and we’re all going down with it. The only consolation is that everyone else barely understands a thing, so in the end, everything works itself out. This is hardly the model of quality education, because there really is no assistance beyond the textbooks themselves. The likelihood of finding my own personal Nuclear Physics tutor is slim to none.

Judgement Day is tomorrow afternoon. After that, there’s another final and a creative project for meditation due on Thursday and Wednesday, respectively, I’m in much better shape for the those. The difference? Quality instructors!!! Oh, and maybe that I actually care about immunology. Comparatively speaking, the Immunology finals should be far more challenging than the other since they’re both upper-division courses, but Immunology is worth twice the units. Not doing so well on my final tomorrow, however painful it may be, isn’t going to be the end of the world, yet I desperately want to pass this course and just get it out of the way.

To everyone who’s found it rather difficult to get ahold of me, I hope this is a sufficient explanation why. I haven’t really been talking with anyone except the usual suspects, and even a few of my closest friends believe I’ve gone AWOL. My parents haven’t heard from me in over a week, which for some odd reason this term is an eternity for them, and there are a lot of errands I must attend to before packing up for the holidays.

Oddly enough, I haven’t been a complete hermit, thanks to the Power of Procrastination. My weekend was actually very interesting. Feeling that I haven’t done much socially for a while, I went out to a “Happy Hour” event at the Bamboo Hut in San Francisco, which went on until people finally wore themselves out at about 1:00. It was one of the few Happy Hour events that I’ve gone to that were mildly entertaining, much like the week before’s at another San Francisco bar down the street. Having a different mix of people has really helped, even though the Tiki Goddess and her faithful servants all went in tow. At one table, there were the drunks. When I arrived, my roommate had consumed an entire bottle of Bailey’s on her own before even making it to the bar, henceforth ordering three or four more drinks. Needless to say, it was a “special evening.” A surprise came in the form of a mob of people dressed up as Santa Claus flooded in the bar, who were a part of some charity raising awareness for cancer, or some degenerative disease. The single women in the bar couldn’t be happier, as they snuggled up to their favourite Santa to see if Christmas might come a little early. My roommate shouted, “This is a VERY Happy Hour.” It was enough of a scene to entice a few people who were on their way out the door to stay an hour or two longer.
Saturday evening, my roommate and I invited a group of people over to help us “Pimp Our Tree.” About six or seven people showered up, where we broke out enough lights to make PG&E very happy. If there’s a blackout in Fremont, Eileen’s tree will be the cause of it. We stuffed ourselves with pizza, made Irish Coffee, and ended up playing another interesting round of Pick-Up Lines. It’s becoming quite a “dangerous” game to play, since we’re beginning to know a little too much about each other, and have plenty of experience playing together. It corrupts the otherwise timid, innocent person with enough perversion that would might even make de Sade blush. One of these days, I’m probably going to stop playing it, as much laughter and enjoyment everyone seems to get out of it.

I’m also thankful for having a really great Italian dinner at Maggiano’s in San Jose on Sunday. I haven’t made it down there much, largely because it’s not accessible by BART, but San Jose has a nice little strip of interesting shops and good restaurants. The last time I was in the area, some friends and I were supposed to visit the Winchester Mansion for their flashlight tour right before Halloween. When that fell through, we stumbled upon this place (even though it was a tradition for some of my friends), only to encounter two-hour waits. Well, this time around, we still had to wait about an hour (they quoted us two), but it everyone went home happy. I don’t believe I’ve ever eaten at an Italian restaurant that served “family-style” catering. The eight of us selected a few appetizers, entrees, pastas, salads, and desserts, and the waiters would bring out a never-ending supply of anything we chose. Even the desserts were never-ending (and boy, was their cheesecake and chocolate mousse cake heavenly). Most of us took home leftovers, which I will faithfully devour over the next few days to remind myself that life doesn’t revolve around finals all the time.

I feel stressed and overworked, as typical with a case of the finals. Nonetheless, these last few weeks have been difficult in that in needing to be somewhat scarce, I also long for human contact a bit more than usual. My asthma’s also been being difficult the last several days. I almost never have a problem with it, but beginning Saturday evening, I’ve been using my inhalers regularly, and actually needed to take prednisone yesterday. Thank goodness I had that prescription, or it may have necessitated another lovely trip to urgent care (standard treatment is a ton of nebulised albuterol, and oral doses of prednisone and antibiotics, if there’s an infection.) I hope whatever’s lingering will resolve itself quickly. Just another sign I need to be careful in not overworking myself. Maybe I’m gathering first-hand review of relevant material in immunology? I even drew a ridiculously dorky cartoon that’ll make my professors chuckle. If I can find a scanner, I’ll upload it somewhere. The creative spark just hit me, for I never draw … especially cartoons.

I had more to write, but I’m heading off to bed, so that I have a chance to regurgitate everything I have crammed into my head over the last few days. I feel nauseated already.

The last day of official instruction was over for me today. This leaves a final creative project for meditation, and final exams for Nuclear Chemistry and Molecular Immunology on Tuesday and Thursday, respectively. At this point, while I’ll definitely be committing my energy towards review and trying to glean some value out of the CHEM 143 course over the next few days, I’m rather blasé about their approach. Most people are panicking, I’m almost in a moment of Zen.

Lately, I’ve picked up a tea addiction in contrast to the usual coffee. Honestly, there’s no way to blow tea with additional calories and other unhealthy things. (I’m not a fan of adding sugar, milk, and other things to my beverages.) Even the caffeine content is considerably less, and it’s full of polyphenols that coffee doesn’t have. Plus, it’s probably more hydrating. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have really expected to pick up the habit. My love affair with coffee is still going strong, but its cousin is quite attractive as well. Plus, there are so many flavours! When I became ill with the flu that lingered for two weeks and started going to Panera Bread, I believe that’s when I began to convert. It continued throughout this last week with coming home at ridiculously late hours after night classes and tutoring. There’s also an element of sophistication to it, and it’s cheaper than most anything Starbucks has to offer. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

As par with finals, I will not be a complete hermit. In fact, finals seems to be one of the few times during the year when I really “have it together.” Sadly, I do operate best while under stress in most any sphere. I imagine I’ll be spending the bulk of the next few days in the chemistry library in Hildebrand Hall, although I’ve managed to organise two fun social events for MEETin in the San Francisco and Berkeley area before I leave town for the holidays.

Also, if you’re around Berkeley on Saturday, December 16th, my friends are hosting my “official” birthday party at Dave and Busters in Milpitas. If you’re interested in attending, leave me a note, and I’ll give you the details. It’ll probably be best to meet up at the Fremont BART station, and carpool together. As long as I know you in person, just because I haven’t personally reached out to you doesn’t mean you’re not invited. The more the merrier! Although, I will try to get in touch with as many people as possible.

Also on the to-do list is to arrange next semestre’s schedule. I’ll definitely be taking CHEM 105 to graduate, but the other options are widely open. Perhaps another MCB course, psychology class, and then meditation, again. A thought’s occurred to me about re-taking my Neurobiology course, in which I earned a C last Fall. I really failed to apply myself in that class, and I thought the subject was very interesting, but battling depression made it difficult to focus on anything that term. I still have the textbook, but I’m not sure if it’s allowed to repeat a class you’ve already passed. I’d like a chance at an A, just to show that it was a fluke.

Other things to do in the relatively-short term:

1) Contact Fremont Kaiser Permanente and find out about volunteering or internship positions
2) Repeat with Washington Hospital, in Fremont (located down the street.)
3) E-mail or initiate some sort of dialogue with Professors Barton and Beatty (Immunology) about research opportunities
4) Pick up a copy of Contemplative Science by Adam Wallis and e-mail the professor who spoke for the Meditation course.
5) Buy holiday cards, fill in personalised messages, and mail them out.
6) Christmas-shop for a few selected friends. You know who you are, so start dropping hints.

My Holiday Wishlist has been posted to the Holiday Wishes community. If there are any secret Santas, take a peek, although certainly talk with me, too, if you're a bit closer to me. If you haven't done so already, join the community and post your own wishlist.