Chemistry fun!

Hello all!

I apologize for the extended absence. Things have been a bit...dusty in here. But I'm here to revamp! Rework! Resurrect!

First of all, I have an honest question for the Loitrons (If you're still there. If you are, awesome! I've missed you too). Have you ever failed a midterm? I'm asking honestly because, two weeks ago, almost halfway through my final year of university, I just did...

No one does, Dug

Don't you laugh! Let me explain these circumstances. I am applying to med school this year, an undertaking that, until now, was going pretty smoothly. I had all my things in place, except for one small thing. US med schools require one year of organic chem with lab and one year of "general" chem WITH LAB. This "lab" business creates the problem. You see, U of T, with its ever-considerate chem department, offers first year chemistry as two half year courses, intro to organic and intro the physical chem, both with lab. In second year you can go on to take the second half of orgo, again with lab, and the second half of physical, again with...oh wait...no lab? But...why? I guess there might be another option...

WHY MUST YOU TORMENT ME SO

 Thus was my dilemma. But indeed, as I discovered, there is another option. Intro to inorganic chemistry. A full-year chemistry course ONLY OPEN TO CHEM MAJORS. I had to get special permission to take the course and everything. I jumped through hoops, reorganized my schedule (4 hour labs) and was finally ready to take the course. People said I was crazy. I called it ambition.

I should've listened.

There were warning signs. The very first lab period, while everyone was methodically carrying out their experiments and being very organized and timely, I was running around, spilling potentially dangerous chemicals everywhere (Was that mercury? Doesn't that eat your brain? This course is actually going to kill me), breaking a crucible, and generally making a fool of myself. It was carnage on a chemical scale.

But nevertheless, I stuck it out until arriving at the first midterm a couple weeks ago. I knew that I was at a disadvantage here, as chem is not my strength by a long shot. Let me tell you something about chemistry students. Chemistry and physics students are crazy. They operate on a whole different level than you and me, the commonfolk. They are the master race. They would rule us all if they didn't thirst for knowledge. Every one that I have met has astounded me with their intellect. Needless to say, as a lowly biology student (bio is science for people who aren't all that great at science), I was out of my league. But I studied. I spent the week before, and my reading break, a 4 day weekend, studying non-stop. Gradually, my confidence grew.

Why are these children holding a confidence sign?

Test day came. Everyone was nervous and chattery, including me. I felt like I was back in first year. The test was hard, as expected, but I knew what I was doing. I knocked it all down and strutted out with my head held high. I did it. I could hang with the big boys. I was no chump. I was a genius.

I also developed an insatiable desire to enslave mankind

Well, I got to feel that way for a week. Then grades went up. It's hard to explain the feeling of seeing a grade as low as I did on Blackboard. At first I couldn't process it, my brain couldn't find the right number. 59? Oh ok, thought I'd do better, but that's not catastrophic. Wait no, that's the average. Oh 62 then, that's a bit better! Wait, that's the median. What is the point of a median? We get it, it's not skewed. So wait, where is my grade? 29? Out of what, I don't see...

Then it hit me. My brain was trying so hard to hide it from me, to save me, but I had to find it eventually. 29/100. That's not just failing. That's walking in with a crayon and drawing shapes on the paper for an hour. That's getting points for trying.

It was worse than when I found out my dad was totally evil

And so here I am. I'm not very inclined to dropping a nuclear bomb on my GPA, so I've decided to drop the course. But all is not lost. As if they were the only ones in Canada who make sense, the university next door, Ryerson, offers a general chem course with lab. So the med school dream stays alive. My self-esteem though, has a long and difficult rehab process ahead. Remember kids, chemistry kills dreams. Actually, if I did get mercury poisoning, you can probably take out the dreams part.

GO RYERSON

Mission to Mexico Leon Letter Promises

Promises made by Nick Evans to anyone who writes him on his mission:

IF YOU WRITE NICK EVANS:

1 letter: He will write you back.

2 letters: He will write you back and think good thoughts in your direction.

3 letters: He will owe you one good deed upon arriving home.

4 letters: You’ll find a kitten. A good one!

5 letters: A free High-5 coupon.

6 letters: He will include you in his daily journal.

7 letters: In his homecoming talk, he will give you a shout out.

8 letters: He will do any dare given to him after returning home.

9 letters: He’ll tell you an awesome story (Spiritual, funny, embarrassing... by request).

10 letters: He’ll send you a local dead bug.

11 letters: Honor to you, honor to your family.

12 letters: He’ll send you a lock of his hair.

13 letters: He’ll send you a letter about the superstitions of the Mexico.

14 letters: He’ll draw you a doodle. A good one!

15 letters: You’ll gain a super power! (Possibly only Batman’s super powers).

16 letters: You’re grades will improve (especially in English after all this practice).

17 letters: He’ll answer any question you have about anything (Answer will be: 42).

18 letters: People will begin throwing their money at you everywhere you go (This is more of a curse than a blessing, especially if people are only carrying change).

19 letters: You will meet the individual of your dreams.

20 letters: He’ll send you a small dead animal.

21 letters: He will write you back in pirate.

22 letters: He’ll send you a lock of his companion’s hair.

23 letters: He’ll write you back in third person.

24 letters: WILD CARD! (Either send a request, or expect something weird).

25 letters: You won the Game! You won it! Really! You’re free!

26 letters: He will send you some real Mexican food. (May not ship well)

27 letters: You will have secured yourself as a permanent Facebook friend.

28 letters: He’ll send you an awesome picture!

29 letters: He will send you a Christmas/birthday gift.

30 letters: He’ll send you a dead medium sized animal (perhaps a cat or a large squirrel).

31 letters: He’ll write you a song in Spanish.

32 letters: He’ll send you a lock of an Investigator’s hair.

33 letters: He’ll throw you a free nacho party (but it will be in Mexico).

34 letters: You’ll make a new friend. A Good one!

35 letters: He’ll send you 50 pesos and a sugar cube!

36 letters: Post Card!

37 letters: Mini Mexican flag and a letter!

40 letters: He’ll send you a dead Drug Cartel… probably…

42 letters: He’ll send you a lock of the Mission President’s hair… probably…

48 letters: He’ll give you his prized “Perry the Platypus” hat…

49 letters: Look behind you… look harder… now look down… yup, right there. There’s a tiny Unicorn isn’t there? It can fly too, you know!

50 letters: The Unicorn is now a Dragon! Right on!

100 letters: He will probably marry you. (That’s just 1 letter a week! Best Value!)

Ping Pong Shenanigans

For those of you who don't know me, I'm kind of a big deal in the ping pong world. I have a forehand that could slay a mountain goat, a serve that makes Greece's GDP drop 10%, and my backhand slice is pretty good too.

"He's just too righteous!"-Greece

With this in mind, I decided to try out for U of T's table tennis team.

Now, this may surprise you if you're not Canadian, but University of Toronto has a sizeable number of Asian students. And let's face it, without being bigoted, racist, or even stereotypical, I can say that Asians are good at ping pong. Really. Really. Good.

This just in, Greece has just gone bankrupt and exploded

So I'm understandably going into these tryouts with the knowledge that the odds are not in my favour. I've done intramural ping pong before, so I know that U of T has many, many skilled players. Nevertheless, I wanted to see how I compare, so I went.

When I got to the tryouts, I noticed two things. First, a lot of people showed up to try out, and they were all clustered at the balcony peering down to the table. Two, I was one of two white people. There was a brown guy, a black guy, and everyone else was Asian. This is the kind of situation that a childhood in central Missouri and southeast Denver does not prepare you for. As I stood on the balcony overlooking the table with all the other hopefuls, I couldn't hear a single English word. Everything around me was, to my best guess, Chinese. If you've never heard actual Chinese, for person raised solely on English it sounds vaguely similar to absolutely nothing remotely comprehensible.
Within the first five minutes of watching gameplay, I realized that Greece was going to find stable economic recovery 40 years before I ever have a chance at making the team. I watched people better than me fire off rallies with each other, only to be sent home. I only hoped that the novelty of my whiteness might make them keep me around for a little longer than I deserve.

My Caucasian counterpart, though not overweight and fairly tall, looked like he had all the athleticism of a three-legged daschund. I wondered if he had some secret crazy skill hidden beneath that exterior. But alas. When it was his turn, I watched as he struggled to return a single shot while he warmed up with the other 3 people in his group. Keep in mind, this is the warm up. Where you lightly hit the ball back and forth to get comfortable with your stroke and find your groove. And the poor guy couldn't even get spin. As the director took him aside after 2 minutes of warm up and told him to go home, I wondered where I could get some of whatever drug made him delusional enough to think he had a chance there.

My guess is the elusive herojuanacocaine mushrooms

So I finally get my turn to play, and as we warm up I'm delighted to find that I'm holding my own. I feel like everyone's already written me off after the guy before me struck out earlier, so I'm inspired to break stereotypes. They choose me and this other guy to play a quick game. I won't bore you with the details, but it was a titanic struggle in which at first I controlled play and took an early lead, but I started tightening up on my forehand and let him back into the match, eventually resulting in us playing past 11 until he finally got the better of me, winning 14-12.

It's ok Roger, I know how it feels

In the end though, our match meant nothing, because immediately afterward the director called us over and said "Basically guys, thanks for coming." So I put on my cowboy hat and walked off into the sunset, paddle in hand, forever changed for the better by the experience. I like to think they all were too.

It doesn't just feel good to change the world; it feels right

But I'm not finished. This October, Magnum Force, the intramural team that, as Tom Brokaw put it, "changed the game" and took the U of T table tennis scene by storm, returns this October. We hope, no, PLAN to avenge last year's 15th place finish with no holds barred, ping pong fury that will give every opponent a hard, measured kick to the hollow celluloid balls. Greece doesn't stand a chance.