As of 2:34 p.m., I am writing the first post of my first blog in the Fraker Laboratory at Michigan State University. I should be weighing mice for my bosses, but I have too much of a buzz from switching majors not to write something down on this thing. I created a blog a few months ago with the same basic idea as this one and a very similar title, but never kept up with it. Now that chemistry and calculus are out of the picture, I plan on writing a lot more.
Originally I signed up to study biochemistry (hence the nerdy lab assistant job), but I met with Stratton Lee the third over at the communication arts & sciences building. Despite the hilarious, posh sounding name, he was actually a really cool dude and didn't mind that I thought our meeting was a half hour later than it really was. He switched me over into journalism, and an enormous weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.
I chose to study biochemistry because I got it into my head that I needed to do something meaningful to mankind with my life. I wanted to cure cancer, splice up some genes to create the super-human, or discover the fountain of youth. AP biology was my favorite class in high school, with broadcast speech right behind it, and the section that really caught my attention was the bit about telomeres and their function to prevent the shortening of our chromosomes. The process with these guys is basically: our cells divide, telomeres shorten & disappear, we get old because of it and die. Now I was so excited at the thought of a field of study that involves manipulating a part of the body to allow myself to live longer that I convinced myself that I loved every aspect of science I would have to study on the way.
Thank god i am only eighteen years old, because screw science and math. I am horrible at both of them, and found out this year that I should have gone with my first instinct - go into journalism. In high school, everyone knew me as the anchorman. A few of the guys at Mona Shores hated me because it was a little bit tool-ish to wear a tie and collared button-down shirt to school every morning I read the news, but I loved it anyway. I was damn good at it, too. Some of the douchers in that class could hardly pronounce the word "education", while I would tackle thirteen announcements a day, a paragraph each, with no problems whatsoever. It's funny; before I took that class, I was the most insecure, shy, awkward, and quiet kid you could ever meet. After building up some confidence by growing a pair of balls and showing off my speaking skills in front of my entire high school, I developed into quite the cocky bastard. I am still a little quiet (nowhere near as bad as I was before broadcast speech), but I am a sexy beast, I have a hot-ass girlfriend, I'm smart as fuck, and I'm going way farther than anyone who didn't see any of that coming in high school.
Now there's obviously some psychological trauma going on in my head, but hey, we can deal with that in some other post.
Unfortunately, some of the researchers keep passing by my desk (and they know that I don't have work to do here) so I will have to wrap this up right here.
The point of my rambling, and sad attempt at a first blog post, is that you should really trust your instincts. I hope to make these stories a little more entertaining and my points a little more elaborate in the future, but for now this will have to do. To make up for it, I'm going to see if I can post the clip of my favorite week in broadcast speech on here.
:) dude well said
ReplyDelete