Take Cake

Today, I have had tea.

At the moment, it's a freshly boiled, steaming cup o' chamomile. I've just baked a cake. Cake makes everything better.

Today, I went to tea time with the rest of the people in my lab. For the first time, I didn't order tea to take away because I had no-one to stay with. For the first time, I had tea in a ceramic mug rather than a polystyerene cup. Lots of people are having a bit of a rubbish time at the moment - in work and their personal lives. So we took a break, half an hour out of our day and though it's not as if we're friends, we're colleagues and spending most of your week with people, you're bound to build up some kind of rapport. I feel like I'm almost a part of that now.

I'm still majorly stressed about everything but I haven't cried since this morning and I've spent less time crouched on toilet stall floors than in previous days, so that's a plus point at least. One of my endeavours actually worked today, so that's amazing and worthy of a huge pat on the back and a ginormous sigh of relief that not all I've been working on is in vain.

So, I continue not to have a clue where I'm headed, whether that be about next week, next year or tomorrow. But I've had a long chat with my friend and I feel like my frustration is justified and that I should be getting more help than I am presently being offered. I'm going to talk to my lab buddy tomorrow, and I'm crossing all my fingers that something unexpected may again happen overnight. We shall see.

On balance, today has been okay. I know it's unorthodox to post twice in one day, but well, I am addicted to the internet and sometimes people can be more lovely than you expect so I feel I owe you this much - today has been okay. I've just been making cake with my housemate and neither of us are exactly kitchen whizzes, but we did have an electric hand mixer, so that makes it a bit easier. My tea is now cool enough to sip and the cake is all ready to eat, so I'll leave it here, for now.

On the jukebox: KT Tunstall ~ Minature Disasters

Treading Water

Today, I have felt myself sinking.

It's been a while since I have woken up and physically been unable to drag myself out of bed, not because I'm tired (though that doesn't help) or because I'm hungover (I'm beginning to think I can't even have one drink without it sending me on a downward spiral) but because, mentally, I can't face the day ahead.

It's only 7.55 so I'm doing well on most accounts - I'm not late yet. But I don't know what to do and I feel like a first year again. I know the place, I know the faces but I don't know who to ask and I feel like an idiot for even suggesting that I'm incapable of performing the most simplest of tasks. I know I've done three years of lab work, but I've never done *this* before, but honestly, I learn quickly, so if you just show me, I'm sure I'll pick it up.

It's not working and I don't know why, and I'm wasting days away by pressing a button every 15 mins like I'm in Lost or something and I know that nothing will change if I don't press that button and nothing will change if I do. And so everyone's getting at me for being a slacker when I want to do something, honestly, I do! I want to have work to do, but it's not my fault that I'm all alone and you all have handy right-hand men to whom you can defer all your problems.

So I've been to see the Supervisor, but it hasn't helped and I feel like I'm wasting their time because I'm vermin, bottom of the academic food chain, not quite an amoeba but not far off. And my lab is silent (apart from all the juddering machines that give me a headache whenever I spend more than quarter of an hour in there) so the people don't talk to me and there's only four others anyway and half the time it's only one or two of them in there. They don't know what I'm supposed to be doing any more than I do, so how am I supposed to approach them for help? I can't, is the answer, and plus, they would most likely just consider me to be thoroughly incompetent because they forget that, hey, they were new once too.

If I could, I'd go to that first year self, seek her out and say, hey, things get better, okay? Second and third years of uni are hard work, but you won't feel like you want to die every time you wake up in the morning, which is a significant improvement. But I don't have my five years ahead retrospective self to come in and tell me that it'll be okay, and you'll get your degree and you'll attain the necessary experience and hey, maybe you'll even be in a Real Job by that time (and I will laugh if it's a teacher, I will laugh long and hard) so don't worry, kid, chin up, because you have your friends and you have your health and you have a wonderfully supportive family and don't forget it - you are bloody clever also, so who could ask for more? So, no, I don't have that sense of hindsight to look back and see that everything turns out alright, despite the tears and the frustration and the lack of support from higher powers, so I somehow have to muster up that reassurance for myself. And I think that's enough for now, so don't even get me started on the other worries.

I'm really struggling at the moment.

On the jukebox: Nick Drake ~ Hazey Jane

Chasing Cars

Today, I have chased.

I'm racing around to try to catch a wisp of a ghost. It's utterly ridiculous and I'm disgusted with myself, but I just can't help it. You know, when you're think you're so over it, so past it, so beyond the need to think about it everyday. You know, you think you've got it made.

But then that shadow of the past collides back into your life and it's so much harder to let go again. Because you know you can do it, you know you've gone x months or whatever without it, but then it happens again and it taunts you with flippant gestures that hold more weight than is intended. And you know it's all a bit of banter; disguising the real meaning and disregarding the history, but at the same time, you hope it's more than just that.

Hope dangles on a string
Like slow spinning redemption
Winding in, winding out
The shine of it has caught my eye

So your friends start gossiping, and that's when the real issues start, because it's easier to talk yourself out of it when you believe it's all in your head, a one-sided mess, but when other people start to notice and comment on it, too, well, maybe there's something in it?

No.

Yet still, I'm leaning on a lamp-post at the corner of the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of a grin, a twinkle in the eye. I don't know why, and I wait all day and maybe if I don't look, it might show? Maybe. But maybe that's not so.

Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing rainbows?
Even if they lead nowhere.

I like to be in control. I do. I like to be right and I like to win. And if I can't win, I tend to not play at all. But apparantly, the regular rules don't apply for this game. I'm fighting a battle I know, for certain, I can only lose. I'm racing around and around, chasing dreams I know I'll never reach.

But you know, sometimes, it's fun to go for a run.

On the jukebox: The Cardigans ~ My Favourite Game - dear, I fear we're facing a problem

New Scientist

Today, I have played with liquid nitrogen.

The panic has subsided somewhat and I'm now kind of excited about what lies ahead. It should be good, I could get published! But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Anyway, just because I was recently offered an opportunity to do a PhD at the second best research institution for chemistry in the country, doesn't mean I will choose to take them up on it.

Meanwhile, life is flowing as expected. After solidifying the nanoparticles using liquid nitrogen, the vessel was put in the freezer to defrost. Yes, that's right. I put it into the freezer in order to defrost it a little so that it would 'warm up' enough to take the stopper off without cracking the glass. Nitrogen boils at 77 Kelvin. In Celcius terms, that's -196 degrees. Pretty darn cold. It's best not to stick your limb in liquid nitrogen, because then it freezes the blood vessels in your hand so the blood can't flow and your finger falls off, that is, you become a victim of frostbite. Also, try not to breathe too much of the vapour in, as you may unknowingly asphyxiate yourself. But let's not concern ourselves too much. Nitrogen is one of the more harmless chemicals we use - an inert, odourless, colourless substance that makes up 78% of the earth's atmosphere.

I am working in a Real Research Laboratory, with Real Research Scientists. These are the people who may well change the way the world works, and guess what? I'm a part of that.

I am investigating something that has never been done before. By the end of my project, I will know more about the area I'm researching than my supervisors themselves. It's kind of terrifying, and kind of thrilling at the same time. I'm quite looking forward to it all and although, I've no doubt, spinning flasks in liquid nitrogen will get old at some point, I'm going to relish the novelty while it lasts...

On the jukebox: Newton Faulkner ~ If This Is It

Blue Bruises

Today, I have not been drunk for six whole months.

Go me!



Three months and I’m still breathing
Three months and I still remember it
Three months and I wake up

On the jukebox: Kelly Clarkson ~ Sober

Lab Rat

Today, I have been in a persistant state of panic.

Last week, I spent every morning attending a High Pressure Safety Course, which amounted to the sole conclusion “thou shalt aim not to blow up thyself or thy neighbour.” This week, there was a general safety lecture, which could be summed up as “use common sense, and for goodness’ sake, WEAR SAFETY SPECS.”

Yesterday afternoon, I met with my supervisors to discuss how best to go about my lab research, and how it will involve EPR, XPS, NMR, SEM and a variety of other acronyms, which all sounds marvellously complicated but I’m sure it’ll be alright in the end. Even though the difference between my previous experimental experiments and my current exploits is like the difference between following Delia’s tried-and-tested recipe to create a Victoria Sponge and being told to go away and make a three course meal from scratch with ingredients and methods that haven’t been used ever before, aiming to find a way to make it taste nice at the end, despite not knowing what you’re cooking.

I'm terrified, but that's beside the point.

Anyway, yes, I have been through all the academic rigmarole to prepare me for the next few months. And today, on my morning off, I superglued my fingers together. So don’t hold much hope for the future of science, 'cause I’m supposed to be one of the clever ones.

On the jukebox: Queen & David Bowie ~ Under Pressure

Think Tank

Today, I have the internet.

I don't talk to myself. I write to myself, which is only worse because there's a record of it. I've been very tired this week, but I've also had a lot of time to think. However, life is more than just thinking about things, sometimes you need to do something instead.

I really want to like, go out there and join something. It's not really for my CV, to be honest, although obviously, it's good to show you have other interests etc, but I want to do this for me. To meet new people, to actually do an activity that doesn't involve being on the computer constantly. I want to have hobbies, interests, stories to tell, even if they're not as exciting as we went to this gig and she pulled this guy and then he pulled this guy and you'll never guess what, the dude was actually a chick...or something cool like that.

So I went to the societies fair. I gave a cursory glance to the knitting stall, not quite brave enough to approach and admit that I want to learn to knit, I truly do. To wear something or give something and be like, yes, I made that, and not everyone can do that. Because I'm not a terribly creative person, I chose to study science, after all. But I think this is something I could do. And the photo society too, but I feel like I should be better than I am at photography - when you say you work for a photography company, people expect you to be amazing, I mean, anyone can take a photo these days, what makes you so special? And I'm not. I can catch the odd candid, but I know feck all about appropriate iso and f/stops. And being scientifically inclined, that should be the bit I'm good at, right? So when it comes to like, striking landscape and terrific travel photography, well, that's just not me. Getting the lighting right? I dunno, I'm mainly just a dogsbody who makes the tea. Milk and sugar?

Speaking of photography, how impressive do fire poi pictures look? Très awesome, that is the answer, if you can do it properly. So I spoke to the girl at that stand as well, she offered me a staff to have a go and I was like, no way, I've never even tried it before. But if you join, you can go along and see how to do all the juggling and whizzing and whirling and twirling and there's people to help. I'm clumsy, and not awfully dexterous though, I think I wouldn't be very good at it.

I'm too scared and I hate not being good at stuff. I also want to go to dance classes, but I don't have my tap shoes here, or my SLR, or a friend to go along with and I know you'll say I'll make friends there, well of course I will, but still, it's the effort and everything and it's so easy to just be like, well, I'm working long lab days now, so do I really have the time or the energy? Of course I should focus on my work, yes, I didn't do three years of an undergraduate degree to just throw it away for a chance to fling some fire around or fiddle with photoshop, right? And so you'll say, yes, but you need a life outside of work, right? And sometimes these kind of experiences can be far more valuable in the long term. Well yes, but I'm scared and when you're scared, it's so easy to just stand still in fright like a petrified rabbit, because if you try to cross over the road, you might just die. But then again, if you try to leap, you might just make it.

I'm not sure that analogy even makes sense. But when did they ever? Someone, please, tell me what to do because I spent all of last night stuck in the metaphorical middle of two girls who are in love, unrequitedly, with the same boy and oh gosh, spending a sober evening having each of my ears successively gnawed off by these ridiculous females inbetween being unwillingly groped by old men is enough to drive a girl to drink.

I need an alternative distraction.

On the jukebox: Peter Grant ~ Windmills Of Your Mind