School

Pulled through a couple midterms relatively unscathed...didn't kill the Computational Biology one last week, but at least got average-ish, and the Reproductive Physiology one yesterday went decently. I forgot the names of a few things, but remember exactly what they did. That's the way things are with me. Proteins & Nucleic Acids hasn't had an exam yet; that class is one of those classes that would be "totally fucking awesome"--if you were taking only one or two classes in addition to it. 13 out of 15 students in the class are graduate students, so they're in the clear, but since I'm taking a full-time (though only marginally) undergrad courseload, my PNA experience only rates "awesome."

I'm feeling a little heat as far as academics go these days; I respect every last one and admire many of the older Biophysics students I've met here (Zach H., Sarahs K. and M., Irun, Anna K., Izzi)--students of my year and below notwithstanding, seeing as I've always been critical of people my age and younger, perhaps unfairly--not to mention professors (Barrick, Garcia-Moreno). And whenever you respect someone, I suppose, inevitably you end up wanting their approval (even if such a concept is purely imaginary) and regarding them as a standard for yourself. (Or maybe I just didn't have a good father figure in my upbringing. Hell with that.) Plus, if I really want to go to MIT CSBi, I'd better convince myself first that I'm good at what I do. So, when I didn't kill the CompBio midterm last week--I knew even before I finished that I wouldn't--I was slightly frustrated, especially since I want to make a career in computational work, and it was one of the classes I'd been looking forward to the most since last spring. Of course, I did have a couple of distracting things on my mind. Just in time for midterms--won't you believe it, it's just my luck. And 2006 is poised to repeat itself...

Speaking of distractions, that one thing: been wondering for a couple of days whether my original plans are going to do anyone that matters any good. It's doubtful a nomadic 21-year-old could ever help salvage anyone's sabotaged life plans. So maybe I should put my hands away, or maybe I shouldn't, yet.

But as I said, this isn't about me, though it does help put things in perspective for me: the drift and the loneliness are bad, to be sure, but less so when your body and mind still have the capacity to endure them; time is running out, to be sure, but not as fast as I thought it was. Maybe that's true. In any case, it's always a relief to worry about someone else's problems once in a while. Familiar signs of self-effacing affection emerging--maybe it's a return to form, maybe it's nothing but relapse, maybe it's nothing at all. Wait and see.

Jesu at Black Cat, crash at Johnny L.'s tonight. Seeing Thrushes open for Stars of Track and Field next week, and someone owes me a Folk Implosion CD (for borrowing). Cranked Sebadoh today and it wasn't so bad.

Coming this weekend to a basement near you--M. Scott Sterling (recording engineering, doo-hickeys) and W. Kurtis Chang (guitar, existential angst) present: the 6-Hour Song Project!