Okay, so it's New Year's Eve, but it's still the holidays -- which happen to be, in the section of my brain still heavily influenced by public-school education -- categorized under Christmas Break.
And yet hubby sits downstairs earnestly completing a calculus assignment. He's in the second half of a calculus I course that he's taking by correspondence through UT. This second half is actually his absolutely last month that he has to complete the class. He signed up in February, applied for and received an extension in October, took his midterm in December, and is now cramming the last half of the course into six weeks in order to meet a drop-deadline at the end of January.
This is why I'm not enrolled at University of Phoenix or any other online, self-paced school. Self-paced, for me, is a slow crawl, interrupted at regular intervals by domestic distractions and daydreaming. It's interrupted and slowed for him, too, but by professional concerns such as managing service engineers, travelling to visit clients all over the country, and wanting to spend time with our family. But one thing I know: his calculus experience is a perfect picture of why I attend traditional classes. My butt has to be in a seat in front of a lecturer, or else my self-pace will get me nowhere. And I have much further to go than hubby; at least he finished his undergrad -- I'm still slogging along in search of my degree. But I think it's good to know a thing or two about one's self, such as what kind of a student/learner you are: do you learn by traditional means (re: a teacher and deadlines) or can you teach yourself?
I have a friend, a former boss and mentor actually, that marvelled I was able to complete calculus with a passing grade at all, let alone a B. She was even more faint with unbelief when I told her this was calculus II -- and the course meant for engineers rather than biologists -- and I had aced calculus I. Which made me wonder how my former self-concept had been communicated to those around me.
Maybe what we know about ourselves is transient and subject to change. It would definitely seem to be the case when it comes to me, math and the sciences, and what I can and cannot do. I am discovering that my limits are there to be tested, pushed, and run over flat as I proceed past them, onward toward higher and greater goals.
So far this blog has seemed to be a chronicle of these self-concepts and the process of overcoming them. I'm a science geek, an eclectic art lover and amateur artist, a reader, a philosopher, a mother, a wife, a lover, a daughter, a gourmand... I am many things. And centered at my core is this insecurity to settle on one thing to be. Maybe that's good -- it keeps me from getting comfortable, keeps me reaching for more, keeps me from settling for second best.
Maybe putting my butt in a seat in front of a lecturer was key in discovering that I am yet to be fully discovered. And calculus was a big part of that, to which I am thankful.
I'm also thankful I don't have to cram in a half-semester of that crazy class over the holidays, and I can actually call this a break!
Merry Christmas to me!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Reclining
We are spending time with my mother-in-law this week. Her home is a solace to me and mine. I, unlike many unfortunate souls, love every bit of my mother-in-law. She is such a peaceful presence, such a calming soul that not a thing could shake her cheeriness.
Which is all-the-more evident this trip. My in-laws live on Galveston island, recently devastated by Hurricane Ike. We drove in after dark last night, which I was silently glad for. I was not ready to see the destruction.
I had not realized how important Galveston had become to me. It's a refuge, a place of relaxation and restoration for my family and me. My mother-in-law's home is luxuriant, modern and spacious, just off the west beach. The back patio overlooks their boat slip on the canal, where the kids spend hours cast fishing during spring break and summer family weekends. In light of my mother-in-law's demeanor and the solace of her home, I thought that all the rejuvenation vibes I picked up on our trips to the Galveston coast were centered there.
Until Ike hit, I didn't realize that Galveston had become an important player on my life's stage. It's an old acquaintance, a town lazy with history and funky with offbeat charm, a bit like my favorite Austin in some ways. When the island was evacuated and awaiting to be washed by the forecasted 17-foot storm surge, we said many prayers for mom-in-law's pad. I have a dear friend at church, a realtor aware of property value and the misfortunes that can plague homeowners from time to time, reached out in such a quirky way: She stuck out her pinky finger as a "point of contact" which I took in pinky-swear fashion, while she said, "We agree that there will be no damage -- Ike will not take her place."
And it didn't. There are houses sitting flat on the beach that were once suspended atop stilts, there are crumbled foundations and piles of debris sitting where dunes once rolled. There are houses missing much siding and some decking, but my mother-in-law's home, my resort getaway, is standing relatively unscathed.
What blessings are mine and ours to count!
This isn't to say that there was no damage. They lost a picnic table (probably to the bottom of the canal) and a beer-rator that lived in the garage. Ike also stole their golfcart while it flooded their small yet stylish entryway and ripped out most of their landscaping. But most of the house is as comfortable as it always was; the garden has been replanted, the debris has been removed and life is (at least for us vacationers) seems to be relaxingly normal.
We go into town for dinner this evening. I'm still hesitant what we'll find.
Interestingly, I began thinking what a great episode HGTV's Curb Appeal could produce here after the storm tore up so many facades and front yards, and even lives. I think it would be a great way to let them design like they give a damn (to borrow from a great organization of Architecture for Humanity).
What does it all mean? I'm glad you ask.
What it all comes down to is this: This is not a sleepy old town, but a resilient place where a survivor's spirit resides. Galveston will not only bounce back, but will thrive, surpassing its former self. Galveston will be a knock-out, rising from this setback with a fresh facelift and makeover that will make her thank Ike for pushing her towards a new life. And I will be there, reclining in her shade of solace, rejuvenating my own spirit for its return to my family's crazy life.
Which is all-the-more evident this trip. My in-laws live on Galveston island, recently devastated by Hurricane Ike. We drove in after dark last night, which I was silently glad for. I was not ready to see the destruction.
I had not realized how important Galveston had become to me. It's a refuge, a place of relaxation and restoration for my family and me. My mother-in-law's home is luxuriant, modern and spacious, just off the west beach. The back patio overlooks their boat slip on the canal, where the kids spend hours cast fishing during spring break and summer family weekends. In light of my mother-in-law's demeanor and the solace of her home, I thought that all the rejuvenation vibes I picked up on our trips to the Galveston coast were centered there.
Until Ike hit, I didn't realize that Galveston had become an important player on my life's stage. It's an old acquaintance, a town lazy with history and funky with offbeat charm, a bit like my favorite Austin in some ways. When the island was evacuated and awaiting to be washed by the forecasted 17-foot storm surge, we said many prayers for mom-in-law's pad. I have a dear friend at church, a realtor aware of property value and the misfortunes that can plague homeowners from time to time, reached out in such a quirky way: She stuck out her pinky finger as a "point of contact" which I took in pinky-swear fashion, while she said, "We agree that there will be no damage -- Ike will not take her place."
And it didn't. There are houses sitting flat on the beach that were once suspended atop stilts, there are crumbled foundations and piles of debris sitting where dunes once rolled. There are houses missing much siding and some decking, but my mother-in-law's home, my resort getaway, is standing relatively unscathed.
What blessings are mine and ours to count!
This isn't to say that there was no damage. They lost a picnic table (probably to the bottom of the canal) and a beer-rator that lived in the garage. Ike also stole their golfcart while it flooded their small yet stylish entryway and ripped out most of their landscaping. But most of the house is as comfortable as it always was; the garden has been replanted, the debris has been removed and life is (at least for us vacationers) seems to be relaxingly normal.
We go into town for dinner this evening. I'm still hesitant what we'll find.
Interestingly, I began thinking what a great episode HGTV's Curb Appeal could produce here after the storm tore up so many facades and front yards, and even lives. I think it would be a great way to let them design like they give a damn (to borrow from a great organization of Architecture for Humanity).
What does it all mean? I'm glad you ask.
What it all comes down to is this: This is not a sleepy old town, but a resilient place where a survivor's spirit resides. Galveston will not only bounce back, but will thrive, surpassing its former self. Galveston will be a knock-out, rising from this setback with a fresh facelift and makeover that will make her thank Ike for pushing her towards a new life. And I will be there, reclining in her shade of solace, rejuvenating my own spirit for its return to my family's crazy life.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Enough
Finals, completed on the 15th -- check.
(sigh of relief -- check.)
Christmas decorations, dug out and hung indoors by the 18th -- check.
Christmas tree, purchased 7 days before Christmas (for $5) -- check.
Kids out for Christmas break -- check. School parties -- check.
Throw Christmas party on the 21st -- check. (outdoor decorations completed on the 20th.)
Grades, posted and confirmed on the 22nd -- check. Staight B's, a 3.0.
I wonder, when reviewing my application, if medical school admission boards will see my grades from this semester along with a copy of my family's schedule. Surely that would help. Surely there will be at least one mother on that board, who will look at my application with an impressed, "Hmm!" Surely that one mother will go to bat for me, will say, "Look how well this student did in Organic Chemistry -- the hardest class I ever took by far -- and she has two school-aged children!" Surely that one mother will convince most of the others sitting on said board that I am a sure bet, even if my GPA is lower than many other applicants, even if I don't have extensive volunteerism to list in my resume, even if I have not balanced 18-hour semesters with a job and community service.
One can only hope. And isn't Christmas about hope? Hope for the world, born in the form of a blessed, miracle baby, delivered by the bright light of a unique star. That same baby, grown into the one and only sinless man, both man and God, died so that I might live -- now that's hope. And that's just enough to keep me living my life to the fullest, giving my all so that I can walk this path; just enough hope that my all will be enough.
(sigh of relief -- check.)
Christmas decorations, dug out and hung indoors by the 18th -- check.
Christmas tree, purchased 7 days before Christmas (for $5) -- check.
Kids out for Christmas break -- check. School parties -- check.
Throw Christmas party on the 21st -- check. (outdoor decorations completed on the 20th.)
Grades, posted and confirmed on the 22nd -- check. Staight B's, a 3.0.
I wonder, when reviewing my application, if medical school admission boards will see my grades from this semester along with a copy of my family's schedule. Surely that would help. Surely there will be at least one mother on that board, who will look at my application with an impressed, "Hmm!" Surely that one mother will go to bat for me, will say, "Look how well this student did in Organic Chemistry -- the hardest class I ever took by far -- and she has two school-aged children!" Surely that one mother will convince most of the others sitting on said board that I am a sure bet, even if my GPA is lower than many other applicants, even if I don't have extensive volunteerism to list in my resume, even if I have not balanced 18-hour semesters with a job and community service.
One can only hope. And isn't Christmas about hope? Hope for the world, born in the form of a blessed, miracle baby, delivered by the bright light of a unique star. That same baby, grown into the one and only sinless man, both man and God, died so that I might live -- now that's hope. And that's just enough to keep me living my life to the fullest, giving my all so that I can walk this path; just enough hope that my all will be enough.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Dead Day
Heh, what a misnomer!! There's more activity here on the big hill than any day!!
Good luck to all my homies in academia on this semester's finals. May we prove that we have learned (at least temporarily) all that we need to have learned from this semester's classes, and then may we enjoy our end-of-year celebrations, each and every one!!
Good luck to all my homies in academia on this semester's finals. May we prove that we have learned (at least temporarily) all that we need to have learned from this semester's classes, and then may we enjoy our end-of-year celebrations, each and every one!!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives
Two entries ago, I talked about this PBS documentary:
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/manyworlds/
I was reminded of it by a conversation with a friend at church last night. He only watches PBS, so I brought it up. Sure enough, he had seen it.
Says he in excitement and glee, "You want a copy? I recorded it!"
Now I know I'm not the only science geek within the circles in which I run. I am, however, continually surprised when science geeks that are incognito come out and proudly profess their PBS predilection.
Anyway, check it out; it was awesome!
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/manyworlds/
I was reminded of it by a conversation with a friend at church last night. He only watches PBS, so I brought it up. Sure enough, he had seen it.
Says he in excitement and glee, "You want a copy? I recorded it!"
Now I know I'm not the only science geek within the circles in which I run. I am, however, continually surprised when science geeks that are incognito come out and proudly profess their PBS predilection.
Anyway, check it out; it was awesome!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Observations
I've noticed this week other students -- my peers -- have begun calling me ma'am.
Oh, dear...
Putting this into perspective -- just last fall, I was carded regularly when buying wine. Wonder what has happened this year?
I also determined to get myself back on a regular workout schedule this week, even if that means just 20 minutes in the gym 2-3 times a week. I noticed right away that this seemed to energize me and helped me focus better when studying.
Maybe (after time and consistency) it'll help me blend in better again. My vanity isn't letting me take this "ma'am" stuff lying down!
Oh, dear...
Putting this into perspective -- just last fall, I was carded regularly when buying wine. Wonder what has happened this year?
I also determined to get myself back on a regular workout schedule this week, even if that means just 20 minutes in the gym 2-3 times a week. I noticed right away that this seemed to energize me and helped me focus better when studying.
Maybe (after time and consistency) it'll help me blend in better again. My vanity isn't letting me take this "ma'am" stuff lying down!
Friday, October 24, 2008
O what delights!
I just registered for my spring 2009 semester. Intellectual heights awaiting me come January 2009:
If ANYone would have told me ten years ago that in spring 2009 I would be taking these classes, I would've laughed in their faces, right before I clipped them. Innit funny where life can take you?
This is great! I'm excited about these classes. University has uncovered a voracious scientific curiosity within me that I never knew existed. Oh, what delights await the inquisitive!
The boys and I watched a PBS documentary that followed indie-rocker Mark Everett on a journey to trace the life of his father Hugh Everett, who died 26 years ago when Mark was 18. Elder Everett is the physicist responsible for the theory of alternate dimensions which has been in turn inspiring and incensing physics scholars since the 1950's. The program was a really cool introduction to some of the principles of quantum mechanics, and it captured the attention of two boys who are already showing dangerous tendencies toward thought experiments and scientific inquiry. When I told them I was taking physics next semester, there were high-fives all around. I'm a hero, a super-genius, a ROCK STAR to my kids! (ri-i-ight!!)
Now, in light of my *yawn* keen interest in physics applications such as the Hadron superconductor (which, btw, I feel kinda bad about apparently cursing, since it broke on its first trial after I publicly thumbed my nose at it here) you may be asking, "What exactly will sustain you through an entire academic year of physics education?"
I'm glad you asked.
I love mind blowing party conversations about physics, especially when there's tequila involved (Don Julio Anejo is best for this, right Eric?) and I enjoy taking concepts to their next logical (or illogical) conclusion. I'm an avid Star Trek fan, which was responsible in part for infusing pop culture with quantum mechanics. But when you start spending billions of dollars on physics research intent on finding antimatter (whether or not it actually exists) I find myself on shaky ground in terms of practicality. Maybe someone can explain what value the Hadron will add to the world for its high-dollar budget, when there are children whose families can't afford to put shoes on them.
Maybe I'll learn that next semester.
- Physics,
- Organic Chemistry II (yes, the fun continues!),
- Microbiology, and
- Genetics
If ANYone would have told me ten years ago that in spring 2009 I would be taking these classes, I would've laughed in their faces, right before I clipped them. Innit funny where life can take you?
This is great! I'm excited about these classes. University has uncovered a voracious scientific curiosity within me that I never knew existed. Oh, what delights await the inquisitive!
The boys and I watched a PBS documentary that followed indie-rocker Mark Everett on a journey to trace the life of his father Hugh Everett, who died 26 years ago when Mark was 18. Elder Everett is the physicist responsible for the theory of alternate dimensions which has been in turn inspiring and incensing physics scholars since the 1950's. The program was a really cool introduction to some of the principles of quantum mechanics, and it captured the attention of two boys who are already showing dangerous tendencies toward thought experiments and scientific inquiry. When I told them I was taking physics next semester, there were high-fives all around. I'm a hero, a super-genius, a ROCK STAR to my kids! (ri-i-ight!!)
Now, in light of my *yawn* keen interest in physics applications such as the Hadron superconductor (which, btw, I feel kinda bad about apparently cursing, since it broke on its first trial after I publicly thumbed my nose at it here) you may be asking, "What exactly will sustain you through an entire academic year of physics education?"
I'm glad you asked.
I love mind blowing party conversations about physics, especially when there's tequila involved (Don Julio Anejo is best for this, right Eric?) and I enjoy taking concepts to their next logical (or illogical) conclusion. I'm an avid Star Trek fan, which was responsible in part for infusing pop culture with quantum mechanics. But when you start spending billions of dollars on physics research intent on finding antimatter (whether or not it actually exists) I find myself on shaky ground in terms of practicality. Maybe someone can explain what value the Hadron will add to the world for its high-dollar budget, when there are children whose families can't afford to put shoes on them.
Maybe I'll learn that next semester.
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