Hi there!

How are you? Me? Well, I've been a little preoccupied this week. I had a Genetics test today - I'm pretty sure I did all right and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I did not ace it. Just after the test I looked up two questions that I was unsure of, and I realized that I didn't get those questions right. But that's over and done with. One of my tutees is in my Genetics class and wasn't getting the material - not just the stuff for this exam, but also the stuff from the entire semester. So, I volunteered to help her and her friend study last night for the exam. We went into the newly remodeled section of the library (which is just awesome, by the way) and then I lectured for three hours. Seriously, I stood in front of this little whiteboard and detailed DNA replication, Transcription, pre-mRNA processing, and Translation for both eukaryotes and prokaryotes, and then I went over some other processes like RNA editing and splicing and then basic DNA structure all the way down to numbering the carbons on the deoxyribose sugar. Three hours later, my voice was ready to give out and they were in desperate need of rest and reprieve. I hope I helped them a little. After I finished that at around nine, I went back to my room and studied until 2AM. I got up six hours later and studied for an hour or so before the exam. And now it's over.

Why is it that my tutee and her friend thought I was some sort of genius and that if I didn't understand something, they had no hope of understanding it, and if I understood and knew something, it was because I was a genius? I am not a genius, nor will I ever seriously ascribe myself to be one. I pay attention in class, I know how to optimize my studying, I know how to self evaluate before an exam, and I rigorously test myself before each exam. Is it therefore a huge surprise that I should make good grades? I think not. Take my sociology mini-exam (aka quiz) on Monday. I spent a good nine to ten hours straight studying for that thing. I went through each and every one of the eleven readings it covered, and I made outlines and summaries of each reading, highlighting the key points of each. And wouldn't you know, I aced the mini exam. Shocking, I know.

Callie has an exam on Friday, and her boyfriend Tim has an exam tomorrow, so they both went to the library tonight to study, and I tagged along hoping to do some quality personal reading. As luck would have it, we ended up in the stacks on the History floor. There we were, surrounded by thousands of books on history. I was in heaven. I spent two hours roaming the shelves looking for interesting titles. I read a little from one book - famous letters from history. It contained the personal letters of some very famous people, and since I love English history, I was drawn to the letters from Queen Elizabeth I, Mary Queen of Scots, Anne Boleyn's plea to Henry VIII, and Sir Walter Raleigh. I was particularly touched by Sir Walter Raleigh's letter - he wrote it to his wife on the eve of his scheduled beheading. In it he expressed his love for her, his wish for her not to grieve long and his hopes that she should not want for anything when he was gone. He said that death would separate them and as he would no longer be hers, so she too would no longer be his, and as was the nature of the world for single women at that time, should she need to re-marry he wished her all happiness. He provided advice for the raising of their son, and signed the letter with something along the lines of yours truly and mine no longer, Walter Raleigh. How moving!

And speaking of moving, my Self-Defense class is involving a lot of activity of late. We finally are using full body gear - chest padding, boxing gloves, and padded helmets. The result of all that gear is that we finally get to attack each other at full strength, holding nothing back. It's actually at lot of fun, especially when my professor makes an example of me because I did something right without even realizing it. I was on my hands and knees and my partner pushed at me from the side, hoping to pin me to the ground. Instead of meeting her force with my force, I took advantage of her applied force by rolling in the direction she was pushing me in and letting momentum build up to help me get away. It worked, and it was even more fun when she stayed attached to me, so when I rolled away, she ended up being pulled along with me and had the wind knocked out of her when she hit the ground. Well, at least I can do something right. And then at the end of the class, I realized that my elbow was hurting so much because I had misplaced some of its skin somewhere in the room. Let that serve as a lesson: hard carpet + heavy and fast rolling = skinned elbows. Now I'm fascinated by the particular scab pattern that's forming - it's gross but cool at the same time. And that is a good indicator that I'm tired, so, bon nuit.