A second comeback

Wanting to work in labs means that you get interviewed a lot. First there's the interview to let the person know you know that there is a spot open and that you're interested. Then it's a return interview for the person to actually explain to you what the project is going to be and see if you're still interested. Usually the bit where you actually work out a schedule and find out how many hours you need to put in at the lab per week is kept for the third interview, where you may or may not meet the others who are involved in the same project.

I don't think I like interviews. They are sometimes just like a politer form of interrogation where I'm surprised no one asks me for my fingerprints at the end (though working for the UC does mean that I end up filling out loads of forms on social security and citizenship and promising that, should I discover anything while working there, it's to be considered property of the university, like my soul is - joking- sort of- so I guess it ends about the same as a fingerprint). Other times they are a blatant opportunity to self-advertise, which generally makes me stutter a lot and feel horribly self-conscious and embarrassed. Mostly I smile a lot and hope that I came across as less inane than I felt. (Plants? That's a great! 'cause, you see, I happen to major in plant bio and I actually know what a cotyledon is!)

We're still doing water potential calculations in plant physio, where I've went over the special properties of water with the rest of the class, AGAIN (well over ten times now in ten different classes). I got to learn loads of large, new words and am quite happy since none of my professors insisted on me learning the spelling of those words (it may have something to do with the fact that I do have professors who mixed up "here" with "hear" on their power point). I've already started raiding Annie's bookshelf and took a Terry Pratchett book with me today on the account that all the Greek letters in physics was starting to make me depressed. It helped, though now there're probably a few people who thinks I'm insane since I was wandering through the library grinning like a maniac because a certain line that I've just read in the book had popped up in my head. Pratchett's books do that to you.

Hope your dad gets better soon, Lucy. Words aren't quite adequate when these sort of things happen, but it's the best I can do at the moment. Don't worry about visiting and be sure to let us (meaning the your friends - yes, all of them) know how the surgery went.