I was going to take the time to write up a longish post with regard to the following incident during my chemistry studying last night, but it’s probably best to keep it short. I consumed warmish rancid milk with sugar and oats in it. The carton said “May 1,” but apparently this milk was not about to stay fresh up to that date … it smelled vaguely of yogurt when opened, but I thought it was OK. It then tasted a bit like flowers (and yes, I have eaten flowers, though I was much younger), with some weird yogurt flavor mixed in for good measure. It took me a good 24 hours to get the weirdness out of my stomach. Oh, the exciting life I lead.
Today in quantitative chemistry, the lecture topic was the difference between detectors in common spectrography equipment. One detector (the photomultiplier tube) is extremely sensitive, while the other (the photo diode array) is significantly less sensitive (but cheaper). So the professor proposed the following question:
When you think ‘aerogel,’ think unbelievable - The most expensive chemical substance known to man, more than safron, etc. For example: “Silica aerogel holds 15 entries in the Guinness Book of Records for material properties …” and “it is very strong structurally, able to hold over 2000 times its own weight” oh … it’s “90-99.8%” air, so it’s also almost transparent. Unreal.
Here’s a new one: I went through two classes today, and then came back to my dorm room. I looked at my watch as I was coming in the door and wondered aloud: “Did my watch stop or something?” It was way too early. I was so focussed on the lab report I had to do that I had forgotten I had only been to 2 classes instead of 3. It doesn’t end there, though. Oh no, this Monday had more Alex-mocking to do.
I’d just like the point out that, recently, I was rockin’ down the hall of the chemistry department at the end of a long day of work, passionately mouthing the words to “Hair of the Dog” by Nazareth. It was all going great until I looked over and saw the stockroom manager looking at me with an expression of horror, grief, and pity all rolled into one facial contortion.
You may or may not remember that one person in high school who was so involved with a single topic that any social interaction was painfully difficult. So it is with one person I know, who is in fact not in high school, but is St. Thomas’ chemistry stockroom manager. Problem is, she is not just antisocial, but extraordinarily passive aggressive. Her ability to wilt a freshman chemistry student after they request a reflux condenser without knowing the joint size is only rivalled by her ability to aggravate someone who knows what they want but is cut off by her ridiculous superiority complex.
