Couldn't sleep much last night because I was so anxious about handing everything in today. Got up early, walked all the way to school with my work clutched tightly to my chest, thought to beat the crowd and get it bound.
The repro room was a confusion of binding spines and paper trimmings. Managed to hand it in at 10am the first time. Thought I would feel relieved that everything had been done, but felt a growing worry as I walked away from the undergraduate office. Realised that I hadn't actually checked the page order after binding it. It made me turn around by the time I was two floors up and before I knew it I was asking Matt rather sheepishly if I could have my stuff back to look over. And the pages were really out of order! Mg. Cold sweat. Resubmitted it half an hour later. That's pretty much been the story of my whole year.
The others had funnier stories to tell about what happened to them during the twenty-four hours leading up to 12pm. The usual things about all-nighters, broken printers, messed up margins, stolen reams of paper, and bowel-melting stress. I have a feeling only about half the year managed to get it in on time. The queue for the binders in the repro-room were still pretty long at 12.05pm, and someone was still putting their appendix together at 3pm.
It's actually been a pretty tiring day. I don't know whether to hate or love estate agents, but I definitely hate it when Weng and Cheryl make me do the break up.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
So close you can taste it
I'm forty-eight pages, one log book, and 14.5 hours away from the last submission of my undergraduate life. That extra year that I sat and watched my friends graduate and try their wings in the great big post-university world felt incredibly long but also heart stoppingly short. However, if I ever hear anyone mention particle or scanning electron microscope to me again, I will burst into tears.
So tomorrow, when I'm walking down Queens gate, I'm going to feel like I'm carrying a million dollars in my bag. An entire year's worth of blood, sweat, and tears culminating in two copies of my final report and a battered log book. I should probably hire an armoured car.
I'm so done with studying. I've had to scrape the barrel this year in terms of motivation, but it's almost done.
So tomorrow, when I'm walking down Queens gate, I'm going to feel like I'm carrying a million dollars in my bag. An entire year's worth of blood, sweat, and tears culminating in two copies of my final report and a battered log book. I should probably hire an armoured car.
I'm so done with studying. I've had to scrape the barrel this year in terms of motivation, but it's almost done.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
The escapades of Captain Obvious
W: My tummy hurts.
A: Why? What did you eat?
W: I don't know.
A:Well it couldnt've been anything we all ate, 'coz we're fine.
W: Maybe it was the spaghetti...
A: Oh?
W: Yeah, there were white spots on it.
A: -_-
The next day...
W: My tummy hurts.
A: What? Still hurts or again?
W: Uh, I don't know, it hurts.
A: What crap did you eat this time?
W: The bak kwa (barbecued meet) was expired.
A: But you ate it anyway. -_-
My boy has forced me to appreciate the eloquence of this face. -_-
A: Why? What did you eat?
W: I don't know.
A:Well it couldnt've been anything we all ate, 'coz we're fine.
W: Maybe it was the spaghetti...
A: Oh?
W: Yeah, there were white spots on it.
A: -_-
The next day...
W: My tummy hurts.
A: What? Still hurts or again?
W: Uh, I don't know, it hurts.
A: What crap did you eat this time?
W: The bak kwa (barbecued meet) was expired.
A: But you ate it anyway. -_-
My boy has forced me to appreciate the eloquence of this face. -_-
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Excel insanity
=[(clickcopypaste^2)+(clickdragdeleteclickdragtype^3)+(dragcopypaste^4)]*2,592
=Error.
=Error.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Why my project sucks
Advanced warning of an engineering rant.
So basically I've been fracture testing all year. Knowing me and the way projects generally work, I've been speed testing about 70% of all the specimens I have to do over the last couple of days, two weeks before the deadline. This is how the last couple of days went.
On Wednesday afternoon, I decided to be on the ball and head downstairs to the basement where they keep the high rate Instron - metal monstrosities of high pressure pipes and actuators, to set up my test rig so I would be able to make a bright breezy start on Thursday morning. Anticipating about an hour of setting up, I happily put on a lab coat and started collecting all the bits, spanners and adapters and what not.
It's always challenging to set up because the steel rig is unbelievably heavy, and you need quite a lot of brute force to make sure everything is screwed in tight. Not wanting to seem uber girly and helpless, I did it myself. Too bad the independent streak is not good for the other parts of my body, namely my wrist and shoulder, which twinged very painfully as I struggled to get it onto the chest-high metal base. This was on top of the random spasms that were already shooting through my arm after 16 hours of notching specimens, using an incredibly advanced set of tools consisting of a wooden hammer, a junior hacksaw, and a very sharp razor blade, for which I also suffered numerous cuts - in fact, it is such a dangerous task that one fellow left a trail of blood all the way across the adhesives lab in search of a sink and a band aid.
Moving along, when I had finally lined up the rig square with the machine and the actuator and bolted it down, set the span of the anvils after much grief and a lot of cursing of men and research in general, I was relatively pleased that I had remembered which part went where and that it looked fairly correct and it had only taken me the better part of an hour. Then I turned to look for the striker and the load cell, which were no where to be found. I spent half an hour searching for a small triangular prism and a load cell no bigger than a knuckle in what can only be described as a metal haystack of bolts, rods, adapters, and more metal bits. Further hell broke loose when I had to enlist the help of a lab technician who is rather fond of a rant or two himself, especially regarding missing bits. We gave up after another hour and I decided to email the head lab technician who knew where it had been hidden all along.
Thursday morning, I found the striker and the load cell sitting pretty with my rig on the test machine. Then it was a small task of connecting that to the actuator arm, hooking the cell up to an amplifier, and setting up the oscilloscope. We ran a couple of dry runs, but the machine kept dumping from high pressure to low pressure at the end of the stroke and refused to return. My heart dropped at the though of possibly having to manually move the ram back to the start position after every test. All seventy-seven of them. It would suck. Thankfully though, we discovered that it was just because the ram didn't like using the entire length of its stroke and seemed a lot happier when the start position was a little lower down. I was finally able to start testing two hours later.
The first specimen broke cleanly, as did the second, the traces showing an absolutely gorgeous triangle for both. I didn't think I'd ever be so excited about a set of lines on a computer screen, but I tell you, that was complete satisfaction. Foolishly, I thought all would be well. On the third, the trace that was recorded on the oscilloscope started to look as if a two-year-old child had sat down and tried to colour inside the lines. A small knot of fear settled in my stomach, but thought maybe it was the hydraulics acting up, decided to continue with the tests thinking it might work itself out. Six destroyed specimens later and eight tests that I would clearly have to repeat, and I was starting to get really upset. Each specimen takes me ten minutes to prepare. I decided to double check everything, which is probably what I should have done after the fourth failed test. As it turns out, the striker was loose. Tightening it, the next specimen broke well. I was back on course.
How stupid was I to think that. Two tests later and the noise came back - crazy scribbles in yellow and blue. Two more tests in the hope it would go back to normal, and I was back in the plastic box checking everything again. Smacked my forehead on the striker while trying to see round the back, and found that the wires from load cell to amplifier weren't tight. Gremlins, I swear, the lab is cursed. The next test was back to normal, thankfully, and before breaking the specimen after that, I checked absolutely everything I could think of, even wiggling the striker to make sure it was on tight, which, given my luck, broke off in my hand. Gayness.
I took it to the lab technician who was in a foul mood and was not helpful. Told me very rudely that the thread was shot and there was nothing he could do about it. He said I'd have to go and make a new striker if I wanted to keep testing, which, given my retarded manufacturing skills would have cost me a week which I did not have. A rainbow of curses ran through my head while I tried to maintain a straight face. I trudged back downstairs with a thunder cloud hanging over me. I was so far past caring, I forced the striker back onto the load cell using a spanner and it actually stuck. A couple more turns cut out a new thread in the soft aluminium and I managed to get the alignment I needed. Ha! I had spat in the face of adversity and walked away laughing.
The last hour of the afternoon came around and I was barely through the first 14 specimens with about half to repeat. Suddenly they weren't sitting nicely - the span was too long or the specimen was too short. I was confused and took out my trusty 50sen Popular ruler and found to my dismay that the span was indeed too long. This discovery had effectively negated any of those precious specimens that did break with a distinguishable and understandable trace, since it wasn't to the Linear Elastic Fracture Mechanics standards. The span was too wide. Grief and hysteria. So I adjusted that.
Footsore and covered in grease but angry as hell, I think the gremlins could feel it, and they knew that I would wrench their furry little heads off if I ever saw one. So the basement can get a little lonely sometimes. Every specimen was loaded with a fervent prayer and every 'perfect' trace was orgasmic.
Now I have to go back over each trace and analyze it carefully. About fifteen minutes to a trace, from previous experience, which means that there goes my entire weekend. The sickest thing about this is that all of these results are going to collapse into a single graph, not much bigger than a third of A4, but behind those pretty points on those extremely straight and aesthetic Excel-generated axes lies the blood, sweat, and tears of almost 100 hours of testing. Now you know.
So basically I've been fracture testing all year. Knowing me and the way projects generally work, I've been speed testing about 70% of all the specimens I have to do over the last couple of days, two weeks before the deadline. This is how the last couple of days went.
On Wednesday afternoon, I decided to be on the ball and head downstairs to the basement where they keep the high rate Instron - metal monstrosities of high pressure pipes and actuators, to set up my test rig so I would be able to make a bright breezy start on Thursday morning. Anticipating about an hour of setting up, I happily put on a lab coat and started collecting all the bits, spanners and adapters and what not.
It's always challenging to set up because the steel rig is unbelievably heavy, and you need quite a lot of brute force to make sure everything is screwed in tight. Not wanting to seem uber girly and helpless, I did it myself. Too bad the independent streak is not good for the other parts of my body, namely my wrist and shoulder, which twinged very painfully as I struggled to get it onto the chest-high metal base. This was on top of the random spasms that were already shooting through my arm after 16 hours of notching specimens, using an incredibly advanced set of tools consisting of a wooden hammer, a junior hacksaw, and a very sharp razor blade, for which I also suffered numerous cuts - in fact, it is such a dangerous task that one fellow left a trail of blood all the way across the adhesives lab in search of a sink and a band aid.
Moving along, when I had finally lined up the rig square with the machine and the actuator and bolted it down, set the span of the anvils after much grief and a lot of cursing of men and research in general, I was relatively pleased that I had remembered which part went where and that it looked fairly correct and it had only taken me the better part of an hour. Then I turned to look for the striker and the load cell, which were no where to be found. I spent half an hour searching for a small triangular prism and a load cell no bigger than a knuckle in what can only be described as a metal haystack of bolts, rods, adapters, and more metal bits. Further hell broke loose when I had to enlist the help of a lab technician who is rather fond of a rant or two himself, especially regarding missing bits. We gave up after another hour and I decided to email the head lab technician who knew where it had been hidden all along.
Thursday morning, I found the striker and the load cell sitting pretty with my rig on the test machine. Then it was a small task of connecting that to the actuator arm, hooking the cell up to an amplifier, and setting up the oscilloscope. We ran a couple of dry runs, but the machine kept dumping from high pressure to low pressure at the end of the stroke and refused to return. My heart dropped at the though of possibly having to manually move the ram back to the start position after every test. All seventy-seven of them. It would suck. Thankfully though, we discovered that it was just because the ram didn't like using the entire length of its stroke and seemed a lot happier when the start position was a little lower down. I was finally able to start testing two hours later.
The first specimen broke cleanly, as did the second, the traces showing an absolutely gorgeous triangle for both. I didn't think I'd ever be so excited about a set of lines on a computer screen, but I tell you, that was complete satisfaction. Foolishly, I thought all would be well. On the third, the trace that was recorded on the oscilloscope started to look as if a two-year-old child had sat down and tried to colour inside the lines. A small knot of fear settled in my stomach, but thought maybe it was the hydraulics acting up, decided to continue with the tests thinking it might work itself out. Six destroyed specimens later and eight tests that I would clearly have to repeat, and I was starting to get really upset. Each specimen takes me ten minutes to prepare. I decided to double check everything, which is probably what I should have done after the fourth failed test. As it turns out, the striker was loose. Tightening it, the next specimen broke well. I was back on course.
How stupid was I to think that. Two tests later and the noise came back - crazy scribbles in yellow and blue. Two more tests in the hope it would go back to normal, and I was back in the plastic box checking everything again. Smacked my forehead on the striker while trying to see round the back, and found that the wires from load cell to amplifier weren't tight. Gremlins, I swear, the lab is cursed. The next test was back to normal, thankfully, and before breaking the specimen after that, I checked absolutely everything I could think of, even wiggling the striker to make sure it was on tight, which, given my luck, broke off in my hand. Gayness.
I took it to the lab technician who was in a foul mood and was not helpful. Told me very rudely that the thread was shot and there was nothing he could do about it. He said I'd have to go and make a new striker if I wanted to keep testing, which, given my retarded manufacturing skills would have cost me a week which I did not have. A rainbow of curses ran through my head while I tried to maintain a straight face. I trudged back downstairs with a thunder cloud hanging over me. I was so far past caring, I forced the striker back onto the load cell using a spanner and it actually stuck. A couple more turns cut out a new thread in the soft aluminium and I managed to get the alignment I needed. Ha! I had spat in the face of adversity and walked away laughing.
The last hour of the afternoon came around and I was barely through the first 14 specimens with about half to repeat. Suddenly they weren't sitting nicely - the span was too long or the specimen was too short. I was confused and took out my trusty 50sen Popular ruler and found to my dismay that the span was indeed too long. This discovery had effectively negated any of those precious specimens that did break with a distinguishable and understandable trace, since it wasn't to the Linear Elastic Fracture Mechanics standards. The span was too wide. Grief and hysteria. So I adjusted that.
Footsore and covered in grease but angry as hell, I think the gremlins could feel it, and they knew that I would wrench their furry little heads off if I ever saw one. So the basement can get a little lonely sometimes. Every specimen was loaded with a fervent prayer and every 'perfect' trace was orgasmic.
Now I have to go back over each trace and analyze it carefully. About fifteen minutes to a trace, from previous experience, which means that there goes my entire weekend. The sickest thing about this is that all of these results are going to collapse into a single graph, not much bigger than a third of A4, but behind those pretty points on those extremely straight and aesthetic Excel-generated axes lies the blood, sweat, and tears of almost 100 hours of testing. Now you know.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Itsy bitsy
There are so many niggling details to handle now that exams are over and you can't shut them out anymore - bills, house hunting, packing, project work, chores, and basically arranging things for the rest of your life. The house must be really dirty, it inspired Godwin's cleaning spree; then again your tolerance grows with each layer of dust and grime - even Weng's shut an eye to it.
Spent all day yesterday on very little sleep staring at a computer panel that looks like something out of the 70s, blinking green screen and everything, doing microscope work. I don't know why it feels like I'm totally wasting my time, really not cut out for research I guess.
Did enjoy dinner on Sunday night though, and the conversation and dessert that followed, coming up with a hundred half-baked schemes, just like old times. I hope Junlinn gets his ger.
Spent all day yesterday on very little sleep staring at a computer panel that looks like something out of the 70s, blinking green screen and everything, doing microscope work. I don't know why it feels like I'm totally wasting my time, really not cut out for research I guess.
Did enjoy dinner on Sunday night though, and the conversation and dessert that followed, coming up with a hundred half-baked schemes, just like old times. I hope Junlinn gets his ger.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Last night, early this morning
During the drinking game "007 Bang":
"If she bangs me, I'm screwed."
Losing the drinking game "007 Bang":
"Don't worry, the more you drink, the less it will become."
I don't think I've ever celebrated end of exams so emphatically. Granted though, we have just finished our last paper of our entire university life, so I suppose some restitution was in order, and Kenneth is a good cook, and pear vodka is incredible.
Elsewhere the last few days of seemingly nonstop rain have brought a dampness like I've never seen before. That talk of dehumidifiers was a jinx, I tell you. Nothing is ever going to be dry again.
"If she bangs me, I'm screwed."
Losing the drinking game "007 Bang":
"Don't worry, the more you drink, the less it will become."
I don't think I've ever celebrated end of exams so emphatically. Granted though, we have just finished our last paper of our entire university life, so I suppose some restitution was in order, and Kenneth is a good cook, and pear vodka is incredible.
Elsewhere the last few days of seemingly nonstop rain have brought a dampness like I've never seen before. That talk of dehumidifiers was a jinx, I tell you. Nothing is ever going to be dry again.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Write more, wei
Spent some time refining my procrastinating skills. Facebook doesn't quite cut it anymore, no matter how challenging it is twisting the grammar in your sentence to go behind "Ashley is...". So I visited old sites (Rudy, you need to put up a picture of your dog!), and new, and felt hardworking enough to add some links. Which actually took all of three minutes and a couple of refreshes. You don't need to know html anymore, everything can be done with bright, breezy buttons. I'm terrified I'm becoming old and technologically retarded that soon I won't be able to tell the difference between the latest phone and a small car and will get horrendously ripped off while trying to buy a new computer.
Otherwise, I was supposed to go into school today, but it seems like last night's lateness, half bottle of wine, and the rainy weather has conspired to keep me at home. If I work up the enthusiasm to face the 9am start tomorrow morning and actually get in on time, I shall also have to explain rather sheepishly to my supervisor why I wasn't there yesterday. For the next three weeks, I shall be up to my ears in plastic bits with a couple of wads of Blu tack thrown in for good measure (that stuff is amazing - uber useful), writing about plastic bits until I want to cry, and hopefully submitting the entire thing by the last day of the month in an effort to salvage my year after our hellish round of finals.
I also want to eat everything in sight out of sheer boredom and apathy.
Otherwise, I was supposed to go into school today, but it seems like last night's lateness, half bottle of wine, and the rainy weather has conspired to keep me at home. If I work up the enthusiasm to face the 9am start tomorrow morning and actually get in on time, I shall also have to explain rather sheepishly to my supervisor why I wasn't there yesterday. For the next three weeks, I shall be up to my ears in plastic bits with a couple of wads of Blu tack thrown in for good measure (that stuff is amazing - uber useful), writing about plastic bits until I want to cry, and hopefully submitting the entire thing by the last day of the month in an effort to salvage my year after our hellish round of finals.
I also want to eat everything in sight out of sheer boredom and apathy.
You had to be there
Last night was a parade of some of the most entertaining moments I've seen in a while. Here were some of my favourite.
- Playing My First Uno with Pooh and friends and counting in Malay. Tish won a lot I think, he's sharper than he looks, girls.
- Talking our way through a bottle of wine.
- Talking about living in the same apartment block.
- Recalling how much the boys looked like those snowman-esque characters out of Southpark in primary 6.
- How Tish kept dropping things at dinner.
- Those cute tea strainer and cup ensembles that had Weng looking so disappointed when he lifted off the cover to find what looked like dregs in the bottom of his "cup".
- How it took us more than a half hour to sort out the bill and with two and a half accountants sitting at the table (although the cashier did tally it wrong in the first place). Clearly we've not outgrown our ineptitude at dividing bills and we should all run screaming from little white slips of paper printed in columns of faint blue ink when we've run out of fingers and toes.
- When Hsiang blew out his candles (which didn't actually add up to 22, I think) and the powder off his cake, half of which landed on Terence, the other half dusting the table in a thin layer of rich cocoa.
- How Junlinn loved the cake so much, he grabbed the knife to lick the chocolate off it. I think there's photographic evidence somewhere, which will no doubt turn up on Facebook eventually.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Just one in a multitude of breaks
Sean was right, the pink was not attractive, so I changed it. Good old blue.
It's Friday and I'd normally be over the moon at the prospect of another weekend, but I've long since stopped measuring the passing of time in Saturdays and Sundays, but rather in exam papers. Not that I've had that many this year, but still, they're much more significant markers, just as a death row convict would count down to his moment of reckoning. This year's exams have so far been more than worthy of that metaphor.
I'm sitting amongst different kinds of stationery. Every single one of my favorite pens have run out of ink - something that's never happened before, and I have to find something I'm comfortable with by Wednesday. There's nothing like exams to get me extra fussy about writing instruments. Just the other day, I got so frustrated by my perfectly functioning but non-Pilot mechanical pencil with its 2B lead and the mess it was making, that I rushed out to buy a Pilot one to load with HB lead. However, not even that could save me from the massacre that was my Advanced Stress Analysis the very next day.
Yes, I have a subject called Advanced Stress, the admission of which was greeted with a snort from a certain law student who has units called PE300065512 and CC001FJLlkaks!!. I think, though, it wasn't really his night, so I shall forgive him.
Moving along with more of my quirks, Weng kindly pointed out that when I run, I sound like I'm dying. It doesn't help that even if I am dying, I can constantly see my grinning boyfriend out of the corner of my eye bouncing effortlessly along. It's only made me more self-conscious, and now I have to hold my breath while passing other pedestrians, which just makes for more pain; I already have to think about coordinating my feet and clenching my abs to stop that nagging stitch. Running is proving challenging, but I shall persevere.
I think that's about it. My mum's stopped calling me and is now emailing. I feel that the lack of full stops makes it so I can hear her voice in my head, along with the times she accidentally hits CAPS and doesn't bother to turn it off. Very charming and adorable.
Also, congratulations to Nicole who's just had another beautiful baby!
It's Friday and I'd normally be over the moon at the prospect of another weekend, but I've long since stopped measuring the passing of time in Saturdays and Sundays, but rather in exam papers. Not that I've had that many this year, but still, they're much more significant markers, just as a death row convict would count down to his moment of reckoning. This year's exams have so far been more than worthy of that metaphor.
I'm sitting amongst different kinds of stationery. Every single one of my favorite pens have run out of ink - something that's never happened before, and I have to find something I'm comfortable with by Wednesday. There's nothing like exams to get me extra fussy about writing instruments. Just the other day, I got so frustrated by my perfectly functioning but non-Pilot mechanical pencil with its 2B lead and the mess it was making, that I rushed out to buy a Pilot one to load with HB lead. However, not even that could save me from the massacre that was my Advanced Stress Analysis the very next day.
Yes, I have a subject called Advanced Stress, the admission of which was greeted with a snort from a certain law student who has units called PE300065512 and CC001FJLlkaks!!. I think, though, it wasn't really his night, so I shall forgive him.
Moving along with more of my quirks, Weng kindly pointed out that when I run, I sound like I'm dying. It doesn't help that even if I am dying, I can constantly see my grinning boyfriend out of the corner of my eye bouncing effortlessly along. It's only made me more self-conscious, and now I have to hold my breath while passing other pedestrians, which just makes for more pain; I already have to think about coordinating my feet and clenching my abs to stop that nagging stitch. Running is proving challenging, but I shall persevere.
I think that's about it. My mum's stopped calling me and is now emailing. I feel that the lack of full stops makes it so I can hear her voice in my head, along with the times she accidentally hits CAPS and doesn't bother to turn it off. Very charming and adorable.
Also, congratulations to Nicole who's just had another beautiful baby!
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