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I had give a ten minute talk on neural networks simulating Short Term Memory; my fall rotation project. I decided that the best way for the audience to get the slightest inkling of what I wanted to convey was to incorporate an animation of how a neural network model of STM functions to store information over time. After devoting a mere 50 or so lonely man hours to its generation, time from my life that I shall never regain, I display below the fruit of my labors:

…pretty anti-climactic huh. I have no life. 🙁

I’m writing this from my now Mac G4 powerbook laptop, included therein is GarageBand, the program with which I composed the current “Racket!!!” selection.

It’s GEEKY!!!

… my beloved sis just delivered a ~7 pound baby girl. I get to meet and see her for the first time this Thanksgiving. Believe me, I’m really looking forward to getting home for a spell (brief, unfortunatly, as it will be)

Have a happy Thanksgiving all.

[Thanks agrengal for reminding me that there are still aspects of my life, about which I should post, that are not grad school related.]

Recently, my classmates and I have been learning about the fascinating phenomenon of intracellular transport of molecular cargo by means of molecular motors that walk along microtubules and actin filaments in neurons. Apparently, these microscopic tubules “grow” on one end (by polymers that assemble to the end of the tubule that is positively polarized) and break apart on the opposite negative end at the same time – effectively “treadmilling” (to use the characteristically biological descriptive term that the professor used in class) from one location in the cell to another.

Today, on a whim – while walking through campus to get my brief exposure to sunlight before I lock myself into the storage closet where I will work on my rotation project until dusk – I went to a coffee shop at the top of the architecture building with the strategy of keeping my day interesting. As testified by one of my classmates, the coffee shop served great coffee in a unique atmosphere. After I ordered, I stepped aside to make way for the person behind me. Not 5 seconds later I look behind me again and noticed that there are now two more new people waiting in line behind me. I step aside (again) and say “oh I’m not in line you can go ahead.” Another 5 second pass, I look behind me once again. This time there are now four more people waiting in line behind me. “Are you in line!?!” the girl directly behind me asks. “No, I’m just waiting for my drink and apparently, in the wrong spot” I reply. Finally, I wise up and “cut” back up to the counter to await my drink. The line is now an easy eight or nine people that just happened to coalesce within a period of 10 seconds. Their sudden organized congregation was most likely “signaled” by the end of a nearby lecture – apparently I was their positively polarized target.

Sometimes being positively polarized can be a real nuisance.

… the academic “eighth” system.

That’s right, I just completed a week long take home final that has drained about every sparkle of energy, and every ounce of pride, from me. Apparently, in graduate school, professors delight in testing on concepts that they didn’t cover in lecture, and making it count for more than 50% of our grade… I mean, it is a logical strategy if their aims are not to teach, but weed. I need to stop whining, I’m learning a butt load and seem to be doing quite well considering that I’ve never taken an undergraduate biology or biochemistry course. All of these descriptive/qualitative explanations (to explain other, “more solid”, qualitative explanations) makes me want to bang my head against the table. Please for the sake of humanity, love of God, (or scorn of atheists) capture some of these findings with an equation. I’m a limited physicist without the verbal intelligence to retain one hundred item long grocery lists to explain the mechanism involved in a single signal transduction pathway.

The classes that interest me are offered during the second year. Believe me, the subject matter that I am learning now had better apply, because right now I can think of a hundred better uses of my time. The tables will be turned when classes turn toward the more mathematical end of the analytical spectrum. Oh no wait, those classes aren’t required so I guess I’ll never get a chance to shine in front of my bio-savvy peers. Being in the spot-light doesn’t jive with my personal philosophy, but it would do wonders for my self-confindence right now, when every lecture that I attend slams me with unfamiliar subject matter for which I must decode the alien terminology in which it was presented. These required classes contain the material that, I am repeatedly told, “everybody should know.” Not only does that statement repeatedly piss me off, but it makes me repeatedly feel like the department’s biggest dumbass.

I think to myself (and believe me I think to myself a lot since I’ve started school since I now live in isolation 90% of the time) “If all this should already be known why did you admit my ignorant ass?” I certainly made it explicitly clear in my application and during my interview that my bio background is poor at best. [Regarding that last clause that I wrote “is poor at best”, refer to my above self-evaluation of my verbal intelligence.] Could you guys have at least told me about the class pre-requisites in advance so that I could at least have known what I was getting myself into?

Anyway, now that I’ve granted myself this 20 minutes, (no shit… 45 minutes) of reprieve, I need to get started studying for another exam that will take place Monday morning. If my present course load turns out to be the norm for the next 2 years, you guys best start making arrangements for my future appointment in the psychiatric ward… as a patient that is.

-Cheers!!!

“If you want to read something different (and easy) then read: The Curious Incident of The Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. One quote from this book “Jumping Jack Christ!” may be the first time that particular combination of words has ever been put into print. This book is 240 pages and published by Doubleday. This and other great books may be found at your local public library. “

[Disclaimer: Levar Burton did not actually recomend this book… but if there existed a Reading Rainbow for adults, he would have. ]

… is beyond me. I woke up this morning missing Portland, and all of my friends in it, very much. I hope that all of you are well. I miss you.

In my experience, the most enlightened person seems to be the person who does not take himself or herself too seriously; an individual who is not afraid to look foolish in front of others or admit to others that she/he may have done something ridiculous.

Everybody does foolish things from time to time. Everybody. The true fool is the person who does not recognize this in himself or herself.

I don’t understand people who don’t/can’t laugh at themselves. I sincerely have no concept of how a person could function, let alone be happy, without the capacity for self-deprecating humor (that does not deprecate a person’s self-esteem at the same time, that is). Every once in a while I come across somebody who appears to be, at least by the persona that they present to others, without this ability. Even if those individuals truly are above folly, and have no flaws by their own appraisal, such individuals seldom smile and do not seem to be enjoying life – which, in and of itself (to me) is a huge flaw.

It’s obvious to me that the majority of the people in my new department are both kind and intelligent people who are trying to impress one another. I don’ t see anything wrong with that by itself. I’m noticing though, that this desire to be impressive is strong enough to keep people on guard, all of the time. Surprisingly, this desire is not unique among us newbie grad students, I see the same tendencies in young professors to old ones. I think the atmosphere (euphemism for competition) can get so intense that people resort to searching for flaws in their peers as a means to feel better about themselves. I do not respect this. The intra-department gossip here, I’m finding, is fierce… and ugly. It makes me uncomfortable, induces the anxious feeling that I feel in my gut.

In case any of my classmates are reading, let me spare you the suspense: I have flaws. I say and do stupid things a good portion of the time. I do care about the impression I make, but ideally, I would prefer not to care. Think me an idiot, think me a fool, it’s the substance of a person that matters, not others’ impressions of that person. I think that I’m pretty substantial (ha ha).

[A fortune cookie told me that I think and live philosophically… So I’m going with it!]

… you attempt to make teryaki chicken for dinner and forget to add soy sauce to the marinade.

Goin’ back to P-town tonight. Can’t wait. (Seems ridiculous considering that 90% of my time this weekend will be spent reading.) But, I get to see my lovely girlfriend. And, Sunday night Crapartist is gonna let me rock shit up with him in, what is now, his practice space. It’ll be the first time that I’ve pounded a kit in nearly a month.

The simple things that makes one happy when one is a graduate student.