The adventures of Dr. Calculus, Goldstein, and a dumb math joke
We (mainly Sean) have decided that if I were to ever become a superhero, my name would be Dr. Calculus and I would dress up as Leibniz. If I were ever to become a supervillain, on the other hand, my name would be Spectrum. But the only thing I would ever do would be to paint rainbows on everything (in which case, Dr. Calculus would have to follow and clean up after me, all the while muttering, “god dammit, Spectrum!”).
Haha. We thought of all this fun stuff while playing Rock Band tonight. And then I made a really dumb math joke:
Me: “you’re my favorite.”
Aaron: “you’re my favorite favorite.”
Me: “you’re my favorite favorite favorite.”
Aaron: “you’re my favorite to the fourth power!”
Me: “you’re my favorite to the zeroth power, ‘cause that makes you my number one.”
Yeah.
You know what?
I have never been so happy being with a person in my entire life. I love touching him, holding him, kissing him, trying to do little things to help him out, all that good stuff.
Long term potential = nearly zero, but we both know that, so it’s okay. He’s awesome. And I’m not looking forward to leaving next fall. It already makes me very, very sad.
That is all.
Are you serious?
GOD DAMMIT. AGAIN.
The company that I have to get into and through graduate school to work for is the very company whose test will probably be reason schools will turn me down. If it didn’t suck so horribly, I’d be laughing at the irony.
I’ve done an average of 26.6 credits per semester, with a couple of those done over the summer. I have a 4.0. I’m graduating in 37 days with my psychology degree. I have almost enough statistics background for a minor and almost enough philosophy background for a major, both of which I’m getting next semester. I have research experience. I’m co-author of an article that’s under review for publication. I have worked my ass off for the past year and a half, cramming eight semester’s worth of work into five. Why? Because I am so ready to go into the career I want that I’m willing to sacrifice everything—down time, time to hang out with friends, non-school related extracurricular activities, even my sanity (flashbacks to last semester’s finals week)—to get to a point where they’ll finally let me to the job I want to do so badly.
So what will my GRE scores tell the grad schools to which I’m applying?
They’ll tell them that I don’t know what 9 raised to the 14th power is (this was an actual question. Seriously. What is the practicality of knowing this??).
They’ll tell them that I can’t find an antonym of the word “panegyric” given a list of five words.
They’ll tell them that I can’t remember the formula for the area of a cylinder.
But you know what it won’t tell them?
That standardized tests have never once predicted my performance in academia (with my SAT scores, my undergrad GPA should apparently be about a 2.6).
That I understand statistics and enjoy them.
That I have such a passion for psychometrics that it’s all I can ever see myself doing with my life.
That I am probably the most motivated person they’ll ever meet.
It’s just very, very depressing to think of the fact that regardless of all this hard work I’ve put into my education, regardless of the stress, regardless of how desperately I want to be a psychometrician and carry out what I think is my life calling, no school will give me a second glance because I cannot perform well on a standardized test.
Fuck it.
ARE YOU SERIOUS
God DAMN the U of I!
They cancelled Metaphysics!
WHY?! FUCK!
Too angry to blog. This ruined my schedule entirely. There are like three classes I had to NOT TAKE so that I could fit Metaphysics in that little block on Monday.
Screw it. Too angry to blog.
I used to think I was good at life. Then I played Rock Band.
Hahaha, wow, I fail at Rock Band, seriously. At least at drumming. Apparently I’m pretty good at singing. But yeah, since I didn’t have any homework for Buddhism tonight, we played Rock Band for a bit, and I was utterly humiliated over how horrible I was. But it was totally worth it to hear Sean try to sing Ballroom Blitz.
Oh, and then he and I walked over to Shari’s and got pancakes at 10, ‘cause we’re just that awesome.
Clean sinks and heater grates? No thanks, I’d rather discuss metaphysics
For once, something of real interest came out of the U of I’s incompetence and disorganization.
As you may know (if I’ve told you over Messenger), my lovely little stalker and I discuss metaphysics (mainly the existence of god) during lunch. Well, we did so today—rather loudly, because he was attacking me ‘cause I’m not a theist. After lunch, my partner Mike and I were up at GSR. We cleaned the unlocked rooms pretty fast, so we sat down in the last one, prepared to wait a good hour and a half for Roy to come pick us up.
We’re sitting there in silence for a few minutes until he asks me what stalker boy and I were talking about over lunch; apparently he’d heard us debating but couldn’t catch what we were talking about. So I told him, and what do you know, he’s a Christian, so we start debating.
We debated for three hours. It was awesome. I must say, Mike did a pretty damn good job of defending his beliefs—in fact, I think it was the best theist argument I’ve ever come across. But from the directions his reasoning/evidence pointed, I’ve decided that if there is a god, he pretty much sucks. Best evidence for this: if we are striving to be like god in our virtues, universal compassion is NOT something we should be shooting for.
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