Before I started working in a lab, I was convinced that the researchers never really made mistakes. I mean, they are working with dangerous stuff, so it is important to be on the ball, right?
Yeah, uh, no.
Some of us like to get together to talk about our most ridiculous fuck-ups. One of my colleagues here in the lab obtained an antibody from another lab, took their word for it that there was actually antibody in the tube, and proceeded to lose six months trying to get it to work in biological assays. Another friend of mine was trying to mutate a gene, and spent three months trying to get it to work only to discover that she had prepared her primers backward. I've also sneezed while pouring super-highly concentrated hydrochloric acid, only to have it run down my arm and burn the fuck out of me. My arm was pink and sore for days.
Ah, science.
Though it usually ends up being a relatively funny anecdote, I still hate fucking up. This week, for example, was absolutely full of these horrid little disasters. I ruined one biological assay by not preparing enough sample to treat some cells. That was dumb. Then, in another biological treatment with really expensive, precious antibodies that I've been waiting for weeks to get, I just happened to add the wrong amount of protein to the samples. They are now useless. Useless! I have to do it all over again. I've lost another week. I would have actually done myself a favor by staying home and not even bothering to show up.
I keep getting visions of that fish at the end of Faith No More's Epic video.
It would be different if my project was going somewhere, but right now it's not. I know my boss is getting anxious, too. She's not digging my project at all. No one is, really - including me. This sucks. I suck.
Seriously.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Training
Somehow I got stuck training the new technician in our group. I'm fucking thrilled.
This was my first opportunity to teach someone in a lab setting. I've been schooled by some great people, and some fucking asshole douchebags, so I really wanted to pass on the tradition of a really good lab experience. Quite honestly, I almost left science because of the asshole teachers. So this was not a trivial thing that was set before me.
I've been training this person for two weeks. I had absolutely no idea how much time it was going to take. While I realize that not everyone is a genius, I did have a certain expectation of someone with a bachelor's degree in science. It is startling, to say the least. I've had to practically babysit Techie for the entire two weeks. My project is swirling around in the toilet, in shit purgatory, while I'm holding the tech's hand. Fuck.
We work with viruses in cell culture. Naturally, this means that we must be all anal about sterility. I have had to repeat this over and over and over and over. It's not getting through. The most fundamental rule of the lab is not getting through. I was amazed that I had to remind Techie, many times, about the importance of changing pipet tips after they have been used. Ok, so I've been working in labs for a handful of years now, but she watched me change tips. She's seen me do it. One reminder should be enough, people.
Imagine you're scooping up a vat of feces and hauling it around by truck. Would someone have to remind you to wash your hands before you got in the cabin? No. Do you use the same knife that you used to slice raw chicken when you go to chop your vegetables? No. This is not rocket science.
I had such high hopes, but Techie couldn't even make cell culture media. I think I'm going to lose it.
This was my first opportunity to teach someone in a lab setting. I've been schooled by some great people, and some fucking asshole douchebags, so I really wanted to pass on the tradition of a really good lab experience. Quite honestly, I almost left science because of the asshole teachers. So this was not a trivial thing that was set before me.
I've been training this person for two weeks. I had absolutely no idea how much time it was going to take. While I realize that not everyone is a genius, I did have a certain expectation of someone with a bachelor's degree in science. It is startling, to say the least. I've had to practically babysit Techie for the entire two weeks. My project is swirling around in the toilet, in shit purgatory, while I'm holding the tech's hand. Fuck.
We work with viruses in cell culture. Naturally, this means that we must be all anal about sterility. I have had to repeat this over and over and over and over. It's not getting through. The most fundamental rule of the lab is not getting through. I was amazed that I had to remind Techie, many times, about the importance of changing pipet tips after they have been used. Ok, so I've been working in labs for a handful of years now, but she watched me change tips. She's seen me do it. One reminder should be enough, people.
Imagine you're scooping up a vat of feces and hauling it around by truck. Would someone have to remind you to wash your hands before you got in the cabin? No. Do you use the same knife that you used to slice raw chicken when you go to chop your vegetables? No. This is not rocket science.
I had such high hopes, but Techie couldn't even make cell culture media. I think I'm going to lose it.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Disasters, etc.
At one point in time, I loved my project. I conceived it. I nursed it through infancy. I fought for it to be liked by the other projects in the lab. We were pals. Symbiotes.
Sometime between preparing its debut on that first poster and last Christmas, I began to get a little tired of it. My ill-conceived experiments began to show holes. I thought it was something that I could patch up.
Uh, no.
Those damn grad school interviews. As I explained my project, it became very clear to me that I am working on a pile of shit that has no relevance. Hooray! I have been and will continue wasting my fucking time!
So yeah, clearly I don't have that PhD yet.
Then again, I don't think I could have had better preparation for grad school. In nearly two years, I have been through the ups and downs. I've hated my project. I've hated myself. I've lost all motivation, then had it unexpectedly come back, then lost it again, over and over.
Essentially, I have been dating science all this time. We've had some fights, but it was still all new and fresh and unknown and sexy. We just got engaged, though. I've chosen my grad school. Now it's serious. Very soon, we will move in together.
I'm already soliciting counselors.
Sometime between preparing its debut on that first poster and last Christmas, I began to get a little tired of it. My ill-conceived experiments began to show holes. I thought it was something that I could patch up.
Uh, no.
Those damn grad school interviews. As I explained my project, it became very clear to me that I am working on a pile of shit that has no relevance. Hooray! I have been and will continue wasting my fucking time!
So yeah, clearly I don't have that PhD yet.
Then again, I don't think I could have had better preparation for grad school. In nearly two years, I have been through the ups and downs. I've hated my project. I've hated myself. I've lost all motivation, then had it unexpectedly come back, then lost it again, over and over.
Essentially, I have been dating science all this time. We've had some fights, but it was still all new and fresh and unknown and sexy. We just got engaged, though. I've chosen my grad school. Now it's serious. Very soon, we will move in together.
I'm already soliciting counselors.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Grad School Interviews
Ok. I'm all done with interviews. The horror that is grad school interview weekend is over.
Here's the deal: I fucking hate interviews. Hate! I am absolutely a jeans person. Jeans do not fit in to interviews. Whenever I have to get all dressed up for this dumb shit, I feel like I look exactly like an animal that has been dressed in human clothes. I am pissed off and uncomfortable. I want to torch my damn suit.
In order to spread this misery out over the maximum amount of time possible, the typical interview weekend went as such:
Day 1 (Th) - Arrive in the evening. Dinner with grad students. Ask lots of questions so you can appear interested.
Day 2 (F) - Wake up ass early to for interview day. Wear suit. Start at 8 or 9 am. Interview with 4-5 people and have the exact same conversation over and over. Lunch and dinner with grad students. Keep asking questions.
Day 3 (Sa) - Start a little later. Still dress nice, even though the host students and faculty are all in jeans. Tour campus. Tour student housing. Lunch and dinner with students. Try to find questions to ask so there is some conversation. Usually, some type of party where you will get drunk. Don't get too drunk.
Day 4 (Su) - Get the hell out.
By the time I get to interviews, I have exhaustively researched these schools and programs. It's hard for me to come up with stuff to ask the students, especially if the schools are in the area. The typical questions I asked the students are:
1. What are the qualification exams like?
2. Can you live on the stipend you get?
3. How did you find your housing?
4. To what other schools did you apply?
5. What made you choose this program?
6. Is there anything you would change about the program?
7. Are there any funding issues?
The faculty interviews ranged from awesome to sweat-inducing. Some were trying to recruit me. Others were clearly trying to suss me out. I tried to remember their questions, but I have only been able to recall the following:
1. Tell me about your project (the most important one, interjected with questions)
2. Why do you want to come to this school/program?
3. What are your future goals?
4. What do I need to know about you?
Some of them asked me incredibly detailed questions about my project. Others asked me how to describe the experiments that led to figuring out my background info. I thought that bit was stupid and uncalled for, because I don't have my fucking PhD yet or anything, but what the fuck ever. Gotta be prepared.
Also, one guy asked me what I did in my spare time and I completely froze. I mean, I couldn't answer the damn question. Spare time? What is that? Remember that you're a person, with feelings and stuff, so just be yourself.
After this horror, I asked my interviewers:
1. What is the typical time to graduation?
2. What types of positions do students take after graduation? Where?
3. How are projects assigned?
4. Do you have pet projects, or can a student get creative and pick their own?
5. How many students have you mentored?
6. Why did you choose to come to this institution?
7. Are there any funding issues?
8. How much time do you have to interact with your students?
9. Do you write the papers in the lab, or do the students/postdocs write them?
10. On average, how many papers do your students have by the time they graduate?
11. What characteristics would your "perfect student" have?
Things you should know before you go:
1. Stipend, fees, tuition, and all financial matters.
2. Curriculum (i.e., do you want to spend one or two years taking classes?).
3. Teaching requirements, if any.
4. Rotation scheme.
5. Where/when your interviewers have published. Have a good idea what they do.
I'm sure there is something I've left out. I've tried to block the process from my memory.
A few people that I talked to absolutely loved interviewing. They said that they had some really great times. Ok, I had one good evening at a faculty dinner. But for the most part, I wanted to kill myself nearly the entire time. It's absolutely exhausting to be on for that long. It is also horrid to curb my rampant swearing for an entire weekend.
So I have a decision to make. I must choose the place where I will be least miserable. That will be a feat in itself.
Here's the deal: I fucking hate interviews. Hate! I am absolutely a jeans person. Jeans do not fit in to interviews. Whenever I have to get all dressed up for this dumb shit, I feel like I look exactly like an animal that has been dressed in human clothes. I am pissed off and uncomfortable. I want to torch my damn suit.
In order to spread this misery out over the maximum amount of time possible, the typical interview weekend went as such:
Day 1 (Th) - Arrive in the evening. Dinner with grad students. Ask lots of questions so you can appear interested.
Day 2 (F) - Wake up ass early to for interview day. Wear suit. Start at 8 or 9 am. Interview with 4-5 people and have the exact same conversation over and over. Lunch and dinner with grad students. Keep asking questions.
Day 3 (Sa) - Start a little later. Still dress nice, even though the host students and faculty are all in jeans. Tour campus. Tour student housing. Lunch and dinner with students. Try to find questions to ask so there is some conversation. Usually, some type of party where you will get drunk. Don't get too drunk.
Day 4 (Su) - Get the hell out.
By the time I get to interviews, I have exhaustively researched these schools and programs. It's hard for me to come up with stuff to ask the students, especially if the schools are in the area. The typical questions I asked the students are:
1. What are the qualification exams like?
2. Can you live on the stipend you get?
3. How did you find your housing?
4. To what other schools did you apply?
5. What made you choose this program?
6. Is there anything you would change about the program?
7. Are there any funding issues?
The faculty interviews ranged from awesome to sweat-inducing. Some were trying to recruit me. Others were clearly trying to suss me out. I tried to remember their questions, but I have only been able to recall the following:
1. Tell me about your project (the most important one, interjected with questions)
2. Why do you want to come to this school/program?
3. What are your future goals?
4. What do I need to know about you?
Some of them asked me incredibly detailed questions about my project. Others asked me how to describe the experiments that led to figuring out my background info. I thought that bit was stupid and uncalled for, because I don't have my fucking PhD yet or anything, but what the fuck ever. Gotta be prepared.
Also, one guy asked me what I did in my spare time and I completely froze. I mean, I couldn't answer the damn question. Spare time? What is that? Remember that you're a person, with feelings and stuff, so just be yourself.
After this horror, I asked my interviewers:
1. What is the typical time to graduation?
2. What types of positions do students take after graduation? Where?
3. How are projects assigned?
4. Do you have pet projects, or can a student get creative and pick their own?
5. How many students have you mentored?
6. Why did you choose to come to this institution?
7. Are there any funding issues?
8. How much time do you have to interact with your students?
9. Do you write the papers in the lab, or do the students/postdocs write them?
10. On average, how many papers do your students have by the time they graduate?
11. What characteristics would your "perfect student" have?
Things you should know before you go:
1. Stipend, fees, tuition, and all financial matters.
2. Curriculum (i.e., do you want to spend one or two years taking classes?).
3. Teaching requirements, if any.
4. Rotation scheme.
5. Where/when your interviewers have published. Have a good idea what they do.
I'm sure there is something I've left out. I've tried to block the process from my memory.
A few people that I talked to absolutely loved interviewing. They said that they had some really great times. Ok, I had one good evening at a faculty dinner. But for the most part, I wanted to kill myself nearly the entire time. It's absolutely exhausting to be on for that long. It is also horrid to curb my rampant swearing for an entire weekend.
So I have a decision to make. I must choose the place where I will be least miserable. That will be a feat in itself.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
On schmoozing
With one interview weekend down, I am a bit discouraged by the fact that I am absolutely sick of talking about my research. Sick!
Lucky me, I get to go through interviews again. Some people with whom I have spoken told me that interview weekends were some really great times. I mean, you get a free trip, the students always take you out and get you drunk at least once, and of course you get some free food out of it as well. How could this possibly be bad, right?
Well, I am an asshole. I like to set impossible goals for myself. Therefore, I apply to really tough schools that aren't so much trying to recruit - they are, in fact, trying to weed us out one by one. Slowly. Painfully.
The interview at my number 1 choice was this weekend, which of course meant it had to be first. It was fucking cram packed full of shit to do, and most of it involved interacting with faculty in some capacity. On top of that, I had to interview with five different professors. Ugh.
This meant that, one right after another, I had five nearly identical conversations - during which time each person took extensive notes. They squinted at me, studying me carefully as I talked, picking holes in my research to date. It's a horrible dance that always proceeds in the exact same manner where you are scrutinized from the moment you walk in the door, through dinner and faculty lunches, until you are taken, drunk and tired, to your hotel room.
Somehow, at dinner, I always get stuck sitting next to the department chair. It fucking sucks. He or she is typically in charge of admissions, and by the dinner I'm usually fantasizing about going home and sobbing uncontrollably and in no mood to turn up the charm. But there I am, in another fucking interview. It is worse than the worst of my worst dates.
So I am tired of talking about my research, since everyone is boring and can only talk about what shitty little thing he or she is studying. I am tired of asking questions and clearly getting evasive answers. And I am really fucking tired of wearing a suit.
I have five more weekends like this. Then at the end of the month, I had to schedule some interviews in the middle of the fucking week. This means that for 8 days straight, I will be wearing a suit, talking about my research, and asking the same questions over and over and over and over.
There is no wine that could possibly dilute my horror. I can't wait for it all to end.
Lucky me, I get to go through interviews again. Some people with whom I have spoken told me that interview weekends were some really great times. I mean, you get a free trip, the students always take you out and get you drunk at least once, and of course you get some free food out of it as well. How could this possibly be bad, right?
Well, I am an asshole. I like to set impossible goals for myself. Therefore, I apply to really tough schools that aren't so much trying to recruit - they are, in fact, trying to weed us out one by one. Slowly. Painfully.
The interview at my number 1 choice was this weekend, which of course meant it had to be first. It was fucking cram packed full of shit to do, and most of it involved interacting with faculty in some capacity. On top of that, I had to interview with five different professors. Ugh.
This meant that, one right after another, I had five nearly identical conversations - during which time each person took extensive notes. They squinted at me, studying me carefully as I talked, picking holes in my research to date. It's a horrible dance that always proceeds in the exact same manner where you are scrutinized from the moment you walk in the door, through dinner and faculty lunches, until you are taken, drunk and tired, to your hotel room.
Somehow, at dinner, I always get stuck sitting next to the department chair. It fucking sucks. He or she is typically in charge of admissions, and by the dinner I'm usually fantasizing about going home and sobbing uncontrollably and in no mood to turn up the charm. But there I am, in another fucking interview. It is worse than the worst of my worst dates.
So I am tired of talking about my research, since everyone is boring and can only talk about what shitty little thing he or she is studying. I am tired of asking questions and clearly getting evasive answers. And I am really fucking tired of wearing a suit.
I have five more weekends like this. Then at the end of the month, I had to schedule some interviews in the middle of the fucking week. This means that for 8 days straight, I will be wearing a suit, talking about my research, and asking the same questions over and over and over and over.
There is no wine that could possibly dilute my horror. I can't wait for it all to end.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Interviewing
So, it turns out I was all freaked out for nothing. I was asked to interview at every program to which I applied. I am heading out for the first one next weekend.
I've asked people exhaustively about how I should best prepare. No one really can say for sure. So I've come up with the following:
1. Be able to talk about your project in detail. Be able to give a general overview, kinda like an abstract, but then talk individually about specific findings. I'm preparing a powerpoint presentation. It is important that I say some people will not like that, so say you have it during the interview, but only take it out if they want to see it. Being able to talk about your project without visual aids - and have them understand - is the most important.
2. Know what the people are doing. Have questions prepared.
This is really all I've been given. I hope it all works out. Otherwise, I am totally fucked.
I've asked people exhaustively about how I should best prepare. No one really can say for sure. So I've come up with the following:
1. Be able to talk about your project in detail. Be able to give a general overview, kinda like an abstract, but then talk individually about specific findings. I'm preparing a powerpoint presentation. It is important that I say some people will not like that, so say you have it during the interview, but only take it out if they want to see it. Being able to talk about your project without visual aids - and have them understand - is the most important.
2. Know what the people are doing. Have questions prepared.
This is really all I've been given. I hope it all works out. Otherwise, I am totally fucked.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Unabashed worry
I spoke with the director of admissions at one of the universities that denied me admission last year. He said that there was nothing wrong with me, that the people who interviewed me recommended me enthusiastically for admission.
So what was the problem, then?
Apparently, two of my three recommendation letters were "superficial." This means that with my added experience, I should get accepted in the programs to which I applied. So people keep telling me.
It is the winter. My blood is cold. I can hardly fathom the spring. I can hardly fathom the idea that I didn't get in to school last year, so as far as I'm concerned, there's a really good chance that I will not this year either. It's really pressing down on me right now.
Oh, red wine! What would I do without thee?
I keep checking my email obsessively. I even checked to see what day I was notified of interviews last year. The time has passed for one school. For fuck's sake, I want to hear something. Something!
Fuck.
So what was the problem, then?
Apparently, two of my three recommendation letters were "superficial." This means that with my added experience, I should get accepted in the programs to which I applied. So people keep telling me.
It is the winter. My blood is cold. I can hardly fathom the spring. I can hardly fathom the idea that I didn't get in to school last year, so as far as I'm concerned, there's a really good chance that I will not this year either. It's really pressing down on me right now.
Oh, red wine! What would I do without thee?
I keep checking my email obsessively. I even checked to see what day I was notified of interviews last year. The time has passed for one school. For fuck's sake, I want to hear something. Something!
Fuck.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
The horror!
Applications are in. All of them.
I need a fucking beer and the ability to sleep for about a month.
I need a fucking beer and the ability to sleep for about a month.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Contemplating murder
Can we please get a centralized application system like the one they have for medical school? That would be great. Thanks.
My letter writers like to give me heart attacks. I feel one coming.
"You mean the deadline is in twenty minutes? Ok, maybe I'll go get that coffee and then I'll write your letter."
Fuck.
No matter when I say the deadline is, this particular individual always waits until - literally - the last fucking minute. There I am, pacing the halls, clicking refresh obsessively, bloodshot eyes, the whole bit - and this person is calm and collected. Not even apologetic. If I should go to jail, this would be the reason.
The centralized application system would be great at moments like this. This person gets to do this to me another eight times. I can't wait!
Also, that sinking feeling I get in my stomach every time I hit the submit application button would only have to happen once. I would love that. I check over the fucking thing a million times, times nine. Nine for nine programs. Ugh.
I hate grad school already.
My letter writers like to give me heart attacks. I feel one coming.
"You mean the deadline is in twenty minutes? Ok, maybe I'll go get that coffee and then I'll write your letter."
Fuck.
No matter when I say the deadline is, this particular individual always waits until - literally - the last fucking minute. There I am, pacing the halls, clicking refresh obsessively, bloodshot eyes, the whole bit - and this person is calm and collected. Not even apologetic. If I should go to jail, this would be the reason.
The centralized application system would be great at moments like this. This person gets to do this to me another eight times. I can't wait!
Also, that sinking feeling I get in my stomach every time I hit the submit application button would only have to happen once. I would love that. I check over the fucking thing a million times, times nine. Nine for nine programs. Ugh.
I hate grad school already.
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