For Science!

As far as the title goes: please click (link credit goes to Greg).

Science Symposium today. Stupid Jeremy beat me out for a physics award (insert grumbling here). At one point, Billy received an award for being generally great (or something like that...I was sitting in the back reading Quicksilver and not really paying attention). In the department head's explanation, he mentioned that "Billy does an excellent job of showing people that science isn't nerdy---it's awesome!"

I was like, "Wait, what? Science is nerdy!"

Yuma turned to me, his face shocked. "It's awesome because it's nerdy."

Thank you to Yuma for selecting the appropriate response.

Math Class (the jokes on who?)

Today, I walked into calculus late.

This is not surprising, as I frequently walk into class late. On this particular occasion, I was late because I had to print out my note packets for class. I printed a spare for Nyx, ended up giving it to Jeremy, and then none of us needed them in the first place because the seniors were getting a class picture taken, so Mrs. James had elected to spend the entire class period communicating with the juniors.

As I was saying, I got to class, and, as I'm sitting down, I notice Mario and his freshly-cut hair (I told him last week that it looked good. I'm not certain that it does, but don't tell him I said so) and then sit in my normal seat, next to Gretchen.

"Guess who's he-re" said Nyx.

"I already noticed."

"Really?" asked Gretchen.

"Are you that surprised?"

I got a small laugh for that one.

I'm going to spare you a play-by-play of the entire class period and give a few highlights instead.

Mario then spent roughly fifteen minutes repeatedly taking the square roots of random numbers just to prove he could. He then tried to teach the rest of us how to do so, although I blatantly ignored his explanation and Boris claimed it was unnecessary (Boris was wrong).

At one point, Bryant was fiddling with something on his ipod. I think this is primarily because prolonged separation from technological devices is damaging to his health. Mrs. James started ribbing him a bit.

"Bryant how did you get on that site in school?"

"Huh?"

"He must have used a proxy. That's what they're called, proxies, websites that let you access other-" said Boris.

"I can show you what I was on if you want."

"I really don't think she needs to see that," advised Jeremy.

"Oh, I wouldn't wouldn't worry about it," said Mario. "He can't really get into it without the sound."

Gretchen and I nearly died. As Tybalt said later, "I laughed so hard that I went lightheaded."

"What time do you think the seniors are getting back?" asked Mrs. James.

"Never."

"Yeah, definitely never."

"But I was going to teach!"

"What's the next chapter on, polar or something, right?" said Sergio.

"Yes, polar," answered Bryant.

"I remember polar," said Mario.

"Which one is that?"

"The circular graphs, with the Rs and thetas."

"Oh, THOSE. The butt graphs," said Jeremy.

"They don't look like butts," said Mrs. James.

"Oh, yes they do." Jeremy went to the board and drew a graph that looked rather like this, but turned sideways. "There's the right cheek." He wrote RC on that side. "The left cheek," he said, writing LC, "and I think we all know what that one is."

"I still don't think it looks like a butt," said Mrs. James.

"No, you're drawing the wrong graph," said Mario, jumping up from the seat he'd stolen from the invisible person who sits there ordinarily and taking Jeremy's marker. He drew something rather like this, but turned sideways, and with the upward facing petal elongated and the other two squished up so that it looked like certain male anatomy.

"Okay, that does not look like that at all!" exclaimed Mrs. James. "It is a three petaled rose, not a, a, a-"

"Penis?" somebody filled in.

"It's a thee petaled rose! And the petals are all the same size, like this-" she redrew it"-not like that AT ALL!"

I must say, I adore her for being more upset about the mathematical wrong than the impropriety.

New Color Scheme

I like it, at the moment. I think it's a bit more eye catching.

I just tried to wipe an apostrophe off of my screen using my sleeve. Needless to say, I was unsuccessful.

The S.A.T. this morning was easy, but that's all I'm legally allowed to say, since I copied that silly paragraph in cursive. Avon was in my testing room, but I haven't seen her since. She will be pleased to know that she took more practice tests than Bryant (the smart twin whose first name contains none of the letters in Bryant), who took 8. I was sitting next to Dino, as always. It's the last name proximity, I guess. Fortunately, he's not a loud test taker. Otherwise, I probably would have done poorly on my Saturday Science admissions test, my CAPT tests, and, now, the SAT. He's the only person I've discussed the test with thus far, and he said the same thing I did. I did hear him talking to Jeremy afterwards, though, and Jeremy said he didn't even finish. Ha. I'm hoping that means he won't get into the Saturday Science next year (not that I would ever ill-wish anybody....*shifty eyes*)

Also, I just read Evil Genius, by Catherine Jinks, which I positively loved. Cadel, the boy genius in question, is a wonderful character. I kept expecting him to be a caricature of an overly smart teenage boy, but he really rounded out in the second half of the novel. The whole thing was very funny, as well. I love the fake schedule in the front and back. For instance, Cultural Appreciation is struck through, with "Forgery" scribbled above, and the teacher named "Art East." How fabulously punny. There are also a few subtle (hopefully intentional) Harry Potter references, which also made me smile.

All in all, a good day.

In addition: this is my This I Believe statement, and the introduction to my portfolio.

I wrote a This I Believe essay once before, back, so very long ago, when I was fourteen. “I believe in questions,” I wrote. “I once dreamed of being omniscient, but as I’ve grown and learned, everything seems further away. For every answer I find, a thousand more questions appear in my mind. There are also times when I don’t want the answer, when I would prefer to continue my life oblivious to the suffering around me. I like to have questions, gaps in my understanding, that, although I will never fill them, will forever provide me with a sense of comfortable emptiness.”

I’ve grown since then, far more than I would have thought was possible in a mere two years. When I first started high school, I loved questioning for the sake of questioning. Now, however, I prefer answers. A large part of this originates in my expanding understanding of science. Where I once saw questions, huge blanks in my understanding, I’m beginning to find answers. While these answers still inspire more questions- knowing that zinc finger proteins help stem cells resist viruses sends me on to how they work, why they evolved, and how they could be improved- these questions are merely another step in my path towards answers. I have a habit of doing in math class whatever the teacher has just informed me is impossible to do. Even though I can never answer everything, I can’t say that questions are better and stop trying. I have to look for answers, in school and in life. So now, I believe in answers.

In U.S., I started the year believing what I read. Then, we were taught to doubt it all, searching for bias. However, even though I can’t trust everything I read, I still need to use what I have to search for the truth, piecing together the answers I so badly desire. I can do this by reflecting, thinking, and looking inward. I also search for answers in science and math, trying to learn about how the world works, why things function, how all the little cogs within me fit together to make a living, breathing human being. In this portfolio, I’ll be using what I’ve learned from my science classes this year to explain what I’ve learned about myself in U.S. History.

Enjoy.

Birthdays!

I turned 16 today, which mainly involved a lot of my friends saying "happy birthday!" and me squealing "thanks!" and enveloping them in high-velocity hugs. These high velocity hugs pose a bit of an issue, as my lack of kinesthetic awareness leaves me rather accident prone. I managed to shoulder Red in the neck, and when I hugged Avon, my long, ungainly arms managed to knock into the blonde boy behind her. He gave us a very pissed off look. It was, all in all, rather comical.

The other thing I wanted to address today was a silly exercise in probability brought up by Kahuna, a boy in my United States History class. He claimed that if you have a 1/3 chance of being hit by a car, and a 1/3 chance of thinking about the car, then you should think about the car, because the chance of both thinking and being hit is only one ninth. I said that probability said so, but that didn't mean it would make a difference. Jeremy calmly informed us both that they were independent events with independent probabilities.

However, this still let me somewhat confused. Well before I was born, my father was in a plane crash. He was in a little airplane in Alaska, and since he had a pilot's license, he was sitting in the cockpit with the captain, who was showing off. Well, the showoff of a captain ended up crashing the plane into a mountain, breaking some bone in my father's girlfriend's back (she blamed my Dad, and immediately broke-up with him). However, the probability of him being in more than one plane accident is extremely small. Therefor, it makes sense for me to travel on airplanes with him, because the chance of a crash is reduced.

Clearly, probability is screwed.