First day of classes post? Nope. As a brief summary, we only had 2 classes today – both in the morning – and they were typical first-day fare, which means no homework. So upon exiting the physics building, us postbacs milled around for fifteen minutes with a clear lack of purpose and direction. Eventually, someone mentioned that the JCrew Warehouse was having a bin sale. Continue reading
Author: Nate
Back to School, Back to School…
“I love the first day of school, man. Everyone all friendly and shit.” – The Wire
Vacation ends today. First thing tomorrow morning, we brave postbacs start organic chemistry. Surprisingly (or it will be to most of you), I’m looking forward to “orgo,” because it’s taught by our program’s academic director and hopefully won’t be the insanely tough class it sometimes can be.
UPDATE: Traffic Law
ALL RIGHT!
It appears a cop in Shady Side, Maryland has taken my Rule 2 to heart! I was driving home from the Chesapeake Bay (vacation between classes, woo) on a two-lane rural road and I was stuck behind a long line of cars. Of course, the guy at the front was driving an Oldsmobile about 15 miles an hour below the speed limit. It’s one thing to drive under the speed limit when people can go around you, but when there’s only one lane and no passing areas for miles? FUCK YOU, MAN! At least have the decency to pull over every ten minutes to let the thirty-six cars behind you go by.
Sorry. Anyway, upon passing a funeral home (searching for a metaphor, searching…), I was jolted out of my seething reverie when an unmarked, jet-black Crown Vic pulled out directly next to me and turned on its lights. I was jolted by this because there was oncoming traffic, and this cop was heading right for it. Luckily, people pulled out of the way, and the cop sped off down the centerline as pickup trucks scattered into ditches on the sides of the road. About six minutes later (honestly, that’s how far back from the lead slowpoke I was), I see the cop looking in the window of the offending Oldsmobile.
JUSTICE! THERE IS JUSTICE IN THIS WORLD! I don’t care if the guy had a taillight out or if the ticket he was about to get was actually for holding up traffic; all I care about is that he’s off the road.
So here’s to you, Mr. Unmarked Police Car Operator Camped Out In The Funeral Home. The People salute you.
Oh, I almost forgot to mention: I’m now writing for a site called Tobacco Road Blues, dedicated to the UNC-Duke rivalry. I’ll be writing mostly pro-UNC pieces (obviously, considering my alma mater) on a regular basis. The place is brand-new but has some really good content and authors on board. Check it out. My most recent piece is here.
Less than a week left…
The Osprey Have Chosen
The osprey have chosen.
An osprey (plural: osprey, which creates some confusion) is a large raptor bird that runs shit out here on the Chesapeake Bay. They build their giant nests on top of elevated platforms out of the biggest sticks they can get airborne, because the osprey hunt so goddamn much that the female doesn’t have time to sit around on her butt and warm eggs. Thus, they build a nest big enough to keep the eggs warm enough just by itself, then go out and massacre more fish. Continue reading
Of Two-Lane Highways and Speed Limits
Yesterday, I drove back to Maryland and had to spend a few hours in the car all by my lonesome. After driving behind two Oldsmobile-driving octogenarians intent on synchronizing their speed and location to effectively block the passage of all traffic for thirty miles, I have decided there need to be changes in the traffic laws. Implemented correctly, this will solve everything except D.C. traffic, because nothing short of the Rapture will remove enough volume from the Beltway to make a noticeable difference. Continue reading
Summer of Chemistry In The Books
Well, yesterday was our final exam. It was one of those exams where everyone was expecting to get murdered and it turned out to be much more of a breeze than anyone was expecting. Turns out the practice problems we were sent were designed for national-level chemistry competitions, not gen chem tests. So we all worked ourselves up into a frenzy over nothing. Continue reading
Trail Running = Lost = Failure
Yesterday I went for a run to de-stress from preparing for a big test we took this morning (this explains my long absence, by the way). I ran my customary route to the opposite side of campus, but then decided I should run a bit of trail seeing as I’m supposed to be training for a Tough Mudder run in October.
So I set off, full of ambition and energy, into the woods. As many of you know, I have a sense of direction that rivals Mr. Magoo’s level of blindness. I decided to run only straight, then turn around when I got tired to avoid getting lost. Continue reading
Coffee Detox (old)
I’ve had a number of requests from people wanting to read “Coffee Detox;” in the interest of ease of access, I’m reposting the story here. It’s a short tale of my experience proving to myself that I’m only psychologically addicted to caffeine, and that my willpower is stronger than this fake addiction. Enjoy! Continue reading
Old Faithful, or The One Where the Terrified Postbac Hit the Ceiling
If you read “OH SH*T IT’S KATHY BATES!,” you’ll know that lab work here in general chemistry can be accurately referred to as a hostile work environment. Between being hustled by the TA’s, KB running in to strike fear in everyone’s hearts, and a general lack of understanding of what the hell we’re supposed to do, being in that room takes years off your life. A good example came on just our second day of lab. Continue reading
Bad Teacher. Bad Movie. Phenomenal Chipotle.
Last night was one of the most absurd experiences of my entire life.
Eight or nine other postbacs and I went to see “Bad Teacher,” a movie whose only redeeming features are a fat kid getting hit in the face with a dodgeball (always funny, under any circumstances), gratuitous use of boobs (another running theme of this story, fyi) and internally comparing the peppy insane teacher, Ms. Squirrel, with all my Teach For America friends. You know what I mean. Continue reading
crashing resident 