Amino acids. R-groups. pH = pka. Oh yeah, and HH equation. All the things I wondered wth I had to learn in gen chem two... like the "Terminator", it's back. With a vengence. And since I am a masochist, I am taking biochem. With that professor I've talked about so often (the great man, the one who stands behind me, the one who says to not quit)... that professor.
And now, I'm looking at my first biochem exam in less than a week and wondering, "How the hell do I figure out the dissociation of 20% lysine?" pka = 10.5... I think it was at pH 10.2 but I'm not sure.
Makes ochem look like heaven - Sn1 tutorials anyone? E1? E2? Dehydration of alcohols? Syn side add? Anti? PWEEEEEASE?!?!?!?!?
oiy. I will ace this test, I will (oh and master the new job which starts at 8:30 tomorrow morning...)
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
New Blog To Watch
I'll admit it. I liked o-chem. It made sense to me. It gave me a sense of purpose and a sense of closure when I got the homework problems right.
Not sure how I found the new blog but I think I snorted a little when I read some of the comments the professor gets from his students. And it made me laugh. Out loud. And then I snickered again.
Laughing @ Ochem
(and I agree - therapy sessions or better yet, couple them with onsite massages!!!)
Not sure how I found the new blog but I think I snorted a little when I read some of the comments the professor gets from his students. And it made me laugh. Out loud. And then I snickered again.
Laughing @ Ochem
(and I agree - therapy sessions or better yet, couple them with onsite massages!!!)
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Blog #2
A few weeks ago (already???), I mentioned I was going to start showcasing blogs I've followed, in the order that I think I started following them. More or less.
One of the first blogs after Dr. Dalai's, was Ella's. It was her first year of med school, she hadn't set foot into the anatomy lab yet. Giddy with excitement at being an MS-1, she wrote about shoes, shopping, and free food.
I was not sure what to think about Dr. Ella at first. Sure, she had already trod the path I was on, and her story was anything but, "ooooh, lookie at me! I have a 3.97 with a 40T MCAT and so confused on whether or not I should apply!!!" Dr. Ella kept it real. I liked that. A lot. Real pre-med, and as I was soon to find out, real MS-1 and MS-2.
She had gross anatomy. Green goo, gloppy, smelly shoes, smellier clothes - I got a 'whiff' of gross anatomy lab. She had gunners, and lazyoids. She had faculty who were less than stellar.
Through it all, I got a glimpse of what I could expect should I ever receive an invitation to a med school class. There are stories of rotations, stories of other pre-meds with less than traditional routes to med school. Stories of law school or not, engineering or not, and then other stories.
I came to her blog for the humor, at first, but I stayed for her real stories: of survival, of overcoming fear-uncertainty-doubt, of triumph.
Here's the link: Dr. Ella
Hope you'll check it out!
One of the first blogs after Dr. Dalai's, was Ella's. It was her first year of med school, she hadn't set foot into the anatomy lab yet. Giddy with excitement at being an MS-1, she wrote about shoes, shopping, and free food.
I was not sure what to think about Dr. Ella at first. Sure, she had already trod the path I was on, and her story was anything but, "ooooh, lookie at me! I have a 3.97 with a 40T MCAT and so confused on whether or not I should apply!!!" Dr. Ella kept it real. I liked that. A lot. Real pre-med, and as I was soon to find out, real MS-1 and MS-2.
She had gross anatomy. Green goo, gloppy, smelly shoes, smellier clothes - I got a 'whiff' of gross anatomy lab. She had gunners, and lazyoids. She had faculty who were less than stellar.
Through it all, I got a glimpse of what I could expect should I ever receive an invitation to a med school class. There are stories of rotations, stories of other pre-meds with less than traditional routes to med school. Stories of law school or not, engineering or not, and then other stories.
I came to her blog for the humor, at first, but I stayed for her real stories: of survival, of overcoming fear-uncertainty-doubt, of triumph.
Here's the link: Dr. Ella
Hope you'll check it out!
Saturday, January 28, 2012
One Of THOSE Nights
Ever go out and listen to a local band, tap your toes, rock to the rhythm, perhaps even get off your butt and dance?
I vowed this year I would make sure that every week I did something fun so that I did not turn into a schoolite, gunner, yuckophobe.
Apparently, I need to start remembering lyrics again. Apparently, I need to wear ear plugs so I can get above the distorted noise in small bars with loud bands to fully hear the lyrics.
Apparently, "Scratch yourself" is NOT one of the lyrics of Madonna's song.
But you know, scratch yourself if you must, and listen to Madaonna's video.
I vowed this year I would make sure that every week I did something fun so that I did not turn into a schoolite, gunner, yuckophobe.
Apparently, I need to start remembering lyrics again. Apparently, I need to wear ear plugs so I can get above the distorted noise in small bars with loud bands to fully hear the lyrics.
Apparently, "Scratch yourself" is NOT one of the lyrics of Madonna's song.
But you know, scratch yourself if you must, and listen to Madaonna's video.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Stunned & Saddened
Each day I wake up, I wonder what the day will bring. I'm happy, or at a minimum, I'm too groggy to be a beotche. As the day progresses, things change my perspective to be happier, or a little less enthusiastic.
Today was one of those.
Bentley is 1.5 years old. In great dane years, that is still just a youngster. He's full of puppy zoomies, puppy antics, and God bless him, puppy lovin'! He pays with Hope, our dysplastic golden retriever, as if she were a chew toy (I stop that immediately) even when she instigates the play, it has to stop.
I started looking for an older pup a few weeks ago. Another dane, maybe a dane/lab cross, something from a shelter; my preference for a black shelter dog as they are often the ones left behind simply because of their coat color.
Enter, the bunny hole.
I went to a rescue site. Then to PetFinder. And then, I Googled.
Storm's breeder had been indicted on 46 counts of animal cruelty, neglect, and abuse.
Storm's breeder. The concocter of my soul was... and that's where I am stunned and saddened.
I do not believe she is a horrible person rather she is horribly ill. Hoarding, is the term that first comes to mind. She's been deprived of her dogs once before, unbeknownst to me. I had heard rumors that she'd lost her home but had no idea as to why.
I'm sad because her illness is very treatable. When I first met her 11 years ago, she was kind, thoughtful, seemed knowledgeable (what did I know, I'd only had rescue danes!). I'm saddened because it feels like somehow her tarnished reputation sullies Storm's.
I was proud of Storm's lineage, just as I am proud of Bentley's. I was proud of what an ambassador Storm turned out to be for the breed fully aware, that it took me socializing him daily, to get him to a point where he was comfortable in a crowd. I'd always said that he was just wired wrong. My vets always said Storm was wired wrong.
And now I know why, or at least, I have more clues.
Storm. He was my soul, he will remain my soul. Somewhere, out there, he's chasing some rabbit down a trail and looking back saying, "Mom, don't worry about my lines; you know who I was!"
And that is true. I'm just stunned that I was so naive about her and about him, and sad that at her age, she still won't get help and denies she needs it.
Today was one of those.
Bentley is 1.5 years old. In great dane years, that is still just a youngster. He's full of puppy zoomies, puppy antics, and God bless him, puppy lovin'! He pays with Hope, our dysplastic golden retriever, as if she were a chew toy (I stop that immediately) even when she instigates the play, it has to stop.
I started looking for an older pup a few weeks ago. Another dane, maybe a dane/lab cross, something from a shelter; my preference for a black shelter dog as they are often the ones left behind simply because of their coat color.
Enter, the bunny hole.
I went to a rescue site. Then to PetFinder. And then, I Googled.
Storm's breeder had been indicted on 46 counts of animal cruelty, neglect, and abuse.
Storm's breeder. The concocter of my soul was... and that's where I am stunned and saddened.
I do not believe she is a horrible person rather she is horribly ill. Hoarding, is the term that first comes to mind. She's been deprived of her dogs once before, unbeknownst to me. I had heard rumors that she'd lost her home but had no idea as to why.
I'm sad because her illness is very treatable. When I first met her 11 years ago, she was kind, thoughtful, seemed knowledgeable (what did I know, I'd only had rescue danes!). I'm saddened because it feels like somehow her tarnished reputation sullies Storm's.
I was proud of Storm's lineage, just as I am proud of Bentley's. I was proud of what an ambassador Storm turned out to be for the breed fully aware, that it took me socializing him daily, to get him to a point where he was comfortable in a crowd. I'd always said that he was just wired wrong. My vets always said Storm was wired wrong.
And now I know why, or at least, I have more clues.
Storm. He was my soul, he will remain my soul. Somewhere, out there, he's chasing some rabbit down a trail and looking back saying, "Mom, don't worry about my lines; you know who I was!"
And that is true. I'm just stunned that I was so naive about her and about him, and sad that at her age, she still won't get help and denies she needs it.
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