The Finite

Whenever you have a Genetics class, you will invariably encounter probability problems. There seems to be some Mendel-inherited cultural memory of randomly choosing differently colored balls from a bag to illustrate the Product Rule or something.

Today, my very Chinese professor, was explaining the probability of getting blue balls when randomly picking from a blind sack. And people were laughing. And he didn’t know why. So when I made the mistake of lingering after class, he came up and asked me what everyone had been laughing about. What was I to do?! Should I have to be the one to explain to my professor what blue balls are? Did I make the right decision to feign ignorance and get the hell out of there?

I really, really like being a TA. I’m coming back next year, for pay hopefully. It’ll be very convenient because I can reuse all my mutilated pig jokes. Rugg was right, being a teacher does have its perks.

Another thing I’m coming back to: Boiler Blast. You can see for yourself how much fun it was in the Facebook album. Incidentally, there’s a member that is the spitting image of young Mr. Rugg (from high school, which means that no one in the eastern time zone will get this). But not only that, I get to bring my obsessive bureaucracy to the group. This year, I mostly helped design the logo. See below for the part I made from scratch in GIMP. The rest of the picture may seem a bit… derivative. Ahem.

Soooo… I sort of left everybody hanging with my pharmacy interview, huh? Well, I was sort of inconsolable and frustrated for a good couple of weeks. Spent an entire Spring Break venting my spleen (< - figure of speech; all of my students should know that the spleen is a secondary lymphatic organ and has no exocrine capacities) with pixelated violence. Because... well, it didn't go that well. So, yeah... Life goes on. Exams, returning from break with 8 lbs of granola/tube socks. Yada, yada. I fight zombies, blog about it, work, which pretty much brings us up to today. I get the committee's letter, the Saturday after break. The diagnosis is: Wait-list. #19/80 Which is slightly better than expected. Considering how my interview went. Tough crowd that day.