should i be more patient with chinese immigrants who can't speak english?
probably, seeing as i was born to two of them.
there's this chinese grad student in my lab whose english is pretty shit-poor. to his credit, he's trying to learn the language, but the problem is that he doesn't understand some basic instructions, which, in a laser lab, can be rather hazardous. it's also hard to ascertain sometimes whether he does something because he doesn't understand the language, or because he's just plain socially inept. he is, after all, a physicist. he seems incredibly reliant on one of our lab's postdocs, who appears to have infinite patience. i both admire the postdoc's unflinching and unwavering commitment to help this putz out and am so, so grateful that i'm not in his position.
this chinese grad student -- known around the lab as 'sky' -- appears not to have learned my name, despite having worked in the same lab for a good six months. it takes about 10 times as long to get a concept across to him, and i'm not talking complicated physics-type concepts. concepts like, 'uh, you're not supposed to go into the laser lab without safety goggles. these. gog-gles. you must wear. wear goggles. no wear, then burn eyes out. gog-gles.'
anyway, i had a phone conversation with sky that went as follows:
'hello, nanolab. nori speaking.'
'enh... hello.'
'hi.'
'enh... is murray...enh...there?'
'nope.'
'enh... not there?'
'no. he's gone.'
'enh... gone?'
'yes. gone. he isn't here.'
'enh...who is this?'
'it's nori.'
'enh...are you murray's...enh...friend?'
(???) 'um...i guess so.'
'enh...is he...enh...will he come back?'
'i don't know. but i don't think so. his bike isn't here.'
'enh...bike? oh. enh...murray not come back.'
'no, i don't think so. i think he's gone home.'
'enh...home? okay. bye-bye.'
i hang up. twenty minutes later, he barges into the lab sans goggles and asks if murray's here. does he think that repeatedly asking will make it so?
apparently, as my sweetie's told me he's witnessed sky trying to fax a document to a number which was evidently wrong, and sky's strategy was just to keep faxing it to that number multiple times.
...
then he sends this e-mail out to the entire department. the whole department (this is totally unedited):
Sorry for bothering all of you,
Now I am a graduate student working on nanostructure fabrication in AMPEL.This project will use a combination of a AFM and a borescope. But I don't know much about borescopes. It would be useful to make me get some information such as working distance, magnification, resolution etc., in advance, because I need to see a very tiny pattern on SOI surface, around a order of 7~8 microns, to be imaged with this sort of thing.
Please tell me if you konw Who has such tiny device and where I can take a look? Thanks
Tian Si
Physics & Astronomy Department
my buddy SW writes an e-mail to a small group of us as follows:
To everyone@everydepartment.ubc.ca:
Sorry for bothering all of you,
Now I am a graduate student working on my thesis. I don't know much about what I am doing. It would be useful to make me get some information on what I'm doing such as doing some work, looking things up in books, on the internet, this sort of thing.
Please tell me if you know who will do all my work for me.
Thanks
Scott Webster
genius.
...
in other news, it's 0428h and i'm in my lab. it'd be a bit better if i were getting results, but after a frustrating day of one delay after another, i'm getting jack shit. it'll make the supervisor happy, i'm sure. i'm not entirely sure why the system's not behaving itself -- all i know is that i'm really really tired. after our spectrometer computer got devastated by a virus, the supervisor's all paranoid about connecting it to the network. i am without internet during scans, when i need it most. it was most likely some dumbass downloading a corrupt attachment to begin with. just having it hooked up to the internet isn't all that big a risk.
that computer has to work on windows NT 4.0 (shittiest...operating...system...ever.) because the software used to operate the spectrometer is hopelessly antiquated and won't work on anything more contemporary. as a result, the system is full of security holes and susceptible to viruses of all types.
it never ceases to astound me how backward this lab is. really. cutting-edge photonic crystal research, right here.
Thursday, July 29, 2004
Monday, July 26, 2004
"uh...you don't have a toaster?"
about a year ago, i took a telephone survey which ended up being about the brands of my kitchen appliances. i'm pretty sure the survey administrator wasn't supposed to sound so incredulous, but suffice it to say that i don't have that many appliances. several of them were gifts, but i honestly don't have any that i don't use at least once or twice a month, which is pretty good, judging from the multiple pressure cookers and other wacky kitchen gadgets in my grandmother-in-law's basement. still, though, i don't have a toaster. i don't eat toast that often, although i might eat more of it if i had a toaster. for now, i get by with singeing the bread on my george foreman grill.
i indulged today by buying myself a couple of housewarming appliances -- neither of which is a toaster -- but i'm now a proud owner of an ice cream maker. and a blender.
ooh, i can almost taste the blackberry sorbet!
my consolation for the hassle of moving and cleaning. yep. that's my justification.
about a year ago, i took a telephone survey which ended up being about the brands of my kitchen appliances. i'm pretty sure the survey administrator wasn't supposed to sound so incredulous, but suffice it to say that i don't have that many appliances. several of them were gifts, but i honestly don't have any that i don't use at least once or twice a month, which is pretty good, judging from the multiple pressure cookers and other wacky kitchen gadgets in my grandmother-in-law's basement. still, though, i don't have a toaster. i don't eat toast that often, although i might eat more of it if i had a toaster. for now, i get by with singeing the bread on my george foreman grill.
i indulged today by buying myself a couple of housewarming appliances -- neither of which is a toaster -- but i'm now a proud owner of an ice cream maker. and a blender.
ooh, i can almost taste the blackberry sorbet!
my consolation for the hassle of moving and cleaning. yep. that's my justification.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
get out of my dreams...
...and into my car...
i had a dream last night: thomas was in it, but he was black.
it smells like someone really scared a skunk outside our building. maybe it was the fumes wafting through the window that triggered the dream.
what does it all mean?
well, thomas -- it seems that skunk spray = you are black.
word.
...and into my car...
i had a dream last night: thomas was in it, but he was black.
it smells like someone really scared a skunk outside our building. maybe it was the fumes wafting through the window that triggered the dream.
what does it all mean?
well, thomas -- it seems that skunk spray = you are black.
word.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Monday, July 19, 2004
Saturday, July 17, 2004
despite my doubts, the MOMpop interdependence zine turned out much better than i'd anticipated.
i was on collating duty last night, where six of us accomplished more in less time than the twenty or so bodies at the collating party for the first issue. anyway, last saturday saw a few of us gather at AW's to try to come up with content for this thing. it seemed like we all had the same problem: the concept of interdependence was just a bit too nebulous and vague to conjure up anything that didn't seem either ridiculously obvious or incredibly contrived.
in the end, there was a collection of random mediocre art. the way it was put together, though, is pretty good. i mean, it is a zine, so we're not really demanding particularly high standards, but all in all, it's a lot better than i'd expected. there's a page on lichens, a page on symbiosis, and, yes, plenty of random art, but it's kinda funky. my favourite is the poem that cori wrote:
today's MOMpop is supposed to be a picnic, so HT and we're going to pick up some groceries before heading over. it'll be fun: pedal-powered sound, dancing, picnic... i'll try to remember my sunscreen this time.
i was on collating duty last night, where six of us accomplished more in less time than the twenty or so bodies at the collating party for the first issue. anyway, last saturday saw a few of us gather at AW's to try to come up with content for this thing. it seemed like we all had the same problem: the concept of interdependence was just a bit too nebulous and vague to conjure up anything that didn't seem either ridiculously obvious or incredibly contrived.
in the end, there was a collection of random mediocre art. the way it was put together, though, is pretty good. i mean, it is a zine, so we're not really demanding particularly high standards, but all in all, it's a lot better than i'd expected. there's a page on lichens, a page on symbiosis, and, yes, plenty of random art, but it's kinda funky. my favourite is the poem that cori wrote:
haiku needs poet
poet needs verse to exist
interdependent
today's MOMpop is supposed to be a picnic, so HT and we're going to pick up some groceries before heading over. it'll be fun: pedal-powered sound, dancing, picnic... i'll try to remember my sunscreen this time.
Monday, July 12, 2004
there's a new commercial out for tampax compak -- you know, the tampons that are so discreet, only you know it's a tampon? a dude is waiting for his date to finish getting ready. he gets peckish (oh, get your mind out of the gutter) and starts asking her if he can have a cookie, then a sandwich, and then a candy as he picks up the tampon in its wrapper.
see? it's so discreet, your date may mistake it for a sugary confection.
how the fuck is this a good thing!?
why is it that girls are made to believe that they even need to be discreet?
i certainly don't flaunt it when i get my period, but i don't pussyfoot around it, either. i'm not ashamed of pulling a pad or a tampon out of my bag when i need a change. on the other hand, i don't celebrate it like it's some sort of empowering goddess phenomenon that somehow makes women the superior sex -- i hate the wrenching pain of cramps and the mood swings and the grossness -- but it's a natural part of having the double-x chromosomes, not a monthly breakout of herpetic lesions...
see? it's so discreet, your date may mistake it for a sugary confection.
how the fuck is this a good thing!?
why is it that girls are made to believe that they even need to be discreet?
i certainly don't flaunt it when i get my period, but i don't pussyfoot around it, either. i'm not ashamed of pulling a pad or a tampon out of my bag when i need a change. on the other hand, i don't celebrate it like it's some sort of empowering goddess phenomenon that somehow makes women the superior sex -- i hate the wrenching pain of cramps and the mood swings and the grossness -- but it's a natural part of having the double-x chromosomes, not a monthly breakout of herpetic lesions...
Saturday, July 10, 2004
gross.
about five weeks ago -- about when the laser broke and i stayed home to "work on my thesis" -- i started playing my guitar regularly: every day for about an hour a day. the first week was agony because the tension in my strings is entirely too high and i hadn't played that particular guitar in a while. after the week, though, i'd developed an impressive set of callouses. asbestos fingers. the strings didn't cut into my flesh anymore.
when smorg and gerry visted, though, i didn't play. for three days. just three days of not playing and a brief brining in the ocean by wreck beach, and my resilient finger pads just kind of fell off. now i have these rough patches of dead skin on my fingertips that are kind of peeling off and getting caught on stuff. it's irritating and frustrating. it feels like i've just squandered five weeks of dedicated callous-building.
interestingly enough, it looks like the area under my finger pads doesn't actually have fingerprint ridges. maybe now's the time to commit those homicides i've been planning.
about five weeks ago -- about when the laser broke and i stayed home to "work on my thesis" -- i started playing my guitar regularly: every day for about an hour a day. the first week was agony because the tension in my strings is entirely too high and i hadn't played that particular guitar in a while. after the week, though, i'd developed an impressive set of callouses. asbestos fingers. the strings didn't cut into my flesh anymore.
when smorg and gerry visted, though, i didn't play. for three days. just three days of not playing and a brief brining in the ocean by wreck beach, and my resilient finger pads just kind of fell off. now i have these rough patches of dead skin on my fingertips that are kind of peeling off and getting caught on stuff. it's irritating and frustrating. it feels like i've just squandered five weeks of dedicated callous-building.
interestingly enough, it looks like the area under my finger pads doesn't actually have fingerprint ridges. maybe now's the time to commit those homicides i've been planning.
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
i've been rather negligent in updating, opting instead to attempt to be something of a decent host for visiting smorg and gerry. their trip out to the coast was initially scheduled to be a house-hunting endeavour, but, being that they have officially signed to take over our current place, they were able take it easy and spend some time seeing the city.
sunday saw us hitting virtually every shoe store on robson -- and there are a lot of shoe stores on robson -- in search of casual but professional footwear for smorg (no luck) taking a brief stop in chinatown to procure some barbecue duck and chinese broccoli for dinner, and spending a couple of hours on wreck beach, where, among numerous boobs and penises, i saw the nude jockocracy try to pick up two chicks, one of whom clearly had implants, and some crazy dude wearing only a headdress and a belt came up to us and declared that men would one day be having babies. i love vancouver.
on monday, our guests went and signed the lease agreement for our suite and they took an excursion with my sweetie to the PNE's playland, an outdoor amusement park. i was too immersed in work and generally exhausted to go, but was treated to a story upon their return of my sweetie brutalising a twelve year-old in the bumper cars for jumping the rather extensive queue and generally being an indignant little fart. my sweetie seems rather proud of this, though any acknowledgement of this from me could only be interpreted as encouragement.
yesterday, smorg and gerry treated us to a thai dinner, before we dragged them both to what ended up being an incredibly lengthy city council public meeting, where, inspiringly enough, local kits residents proved themselves much more passionate and much less apathetic than their yuppie bo-bo images tend to imply, arguing fervently against a proposed home depot that may constructed three blocks from our apartment. the speakers' list ballooned to over 90 people, and at 11 pm last night, council only managed to get through a third of them. they resumed tonight, and are apparently still in session.
smorg and gerry left for edmonton this morning, leaving us with some of their possessions (including christmas gift wrap!?) that are really and finally driving home the fact that i am actually going to be moving, and in less than a month.
....
it rained last night and i could hear it both through my closed window as well as through the bedroom door and the open patio door. it made me wonder whether i'll be able to get used to the sound of rain directly pelting the roof and window directly above the bed in our new place.
...
the upcoming MOMpop (17 july) is putting together its zine this saturday. its theme is interdependence: living together and relying on one another. i'd like to make one or two contributions to this issue, but am currently devoid of any insights. ideas?
sunday saw us hitting virtually every shoe store on robson -- and there are a lot of shoe stores on robson -- in search of casual but professional footwear for smorg (no luck) taking a brief stop in chinatown to procure some barbecue duck and chinese broccoli for dinner, and spending a couple of hours on wreck beach, where, among numerous boobs and penises, i saw the nude jockocracy try to pick up two chicks, one of whom clearly had implants, and some crazy dude wearing only a headdress and a belt came up to us and declared that men would one day be having babies. i love vancouver.
on monday, our guests went and signed the lease agreement for our suite and they took an excursion with my sweetie to the PNE's playland, an outdoor amusement park. i was too immersed in work and generally exhausted to go, but was treated to a story upon their return of my sweetie brutalising a twelve year-old in the bumper cars for jumping the rather extensive queue and generally being an indignant little fart. my sweetie seems rather proud of this, though any acknowledgement of this from me could only be interpreted as encouragement.
yesterday, smorg and gerry treated us to a thai dinner, before we dragged them both to what ended up being an incredibly lengthy city council public meeting, where, inspiringly enough, local kits residents proved themselves much more passionate and much less apathetic than their yuppie bo-bo images tend to imply, arguing fervently against a proposed home depot that may constructed three blocks from our apartment. the speakers' list ballooned to over 90 people, and at 11 pm last night, council only managed to get through a third of them. they resumed tonight, and are apparently still in session.
smorg and gerry left for edmonton this morning, leaving us with some of their possessions (including christmas gift wrap!?) that are really and finally driving home the fact that i am actually going to be moving, and in less than a month.
....
it rained last night and i could hear it both through my closed window as well as through the bedroom door and the open patio door. it made me wonder whether i'll be able to get used to the sound of rain directly pelting the roof and window directly above the bed in our new place.
...
the upcoming MOMpop (17 july) is putting together its zine this saturday. its theme is interdependence: living together and relying on one another. i'd like to make one or two contributions to this issue, but am currently devoid of any insights. ideas?
Saturday, July 03, 2004
Friday, July 02, 2004
there's nothing grosser than, when eating, picking up a wayward crumb and putting it in your mouth just to realize that it is decidedly not food.
...
i was watching the next generation today instead of working on my thesis and the preposterousness of data (um, the character) really struck me.
as an aside, my sweetie's absurd first-year philosophy prof once used data as a demonstration of the fact that artificial intelligence exists -- no joke.
anyway, i was watching a mediocre TNG episode where a prisoner was talking to data and asked 'why do you have yellow eyes?' to which he replied 'i am an android.'
now, it seems to me that emulating the skin tone and eye colour of a normal human being is perhaps the easiest aspect of constructing an android. yeah, i know they made brent spiner wear all of that cake make-up to distinguish him from other characters and characterize him as a machine, but that doesn't make it any less ridiculous. what, they didn't have any flesh-coloured paint when they put him together?
you know what i'm sayin'?
...
two...more...months...
...
i was watching the next generation today instead of working on my thesis and the preposterousness of data (um, the character) really struck me.
as an aside, my sweetie's absurd first-year philosophy prof once used data as a demonstration of the fact that artificial intelligence exists -- no joke.
anyway, i was watching a mediocre TNG episode where a prisoner was talking to data and asked 'why do you have yellow eyes?' to which he replied 'i am an android.'
now, it seems to me that emulating the skin tone and eye colour of a normal human being is perhaps the easiest aspect of constructing an android. yeah, i know they made brent spiner wear all of that cake make-up to distinguish him from other characters and characterize him as a machine, but that doesn't make it any less ridiculous. what, they didn't have any flesh-coloured paint when they put him together?
you know what i'm sayin'?
...
two...more...months...
Thursday, July 01, 2004
pigfuckers.
some pigfuckers ripped off my sweetie's bike tonight. they took his handlebars, his stem, his pedals, his cranks and his seat. on a fucking BMX!
who the fuck would want to pay for or use the ratty old seat and the worn and sticky handlebars anyway?
he's on his way home now, by bus, if it's even still running.
why do people have to be such giant smelly shit-encrusted assholes?
some pigfuckers ripped off my sweetie's bike tonight. they took his handlebars, his stem, his pedals, his cranks and his seat. on a fucking BMX!
who the fuck would want to pay for or use the ratty old seat and the worn and sticky handlebars anyway?
he's on his way home now, by bus, if it's even still running.
why do people have to be such giant smelly shit-encrusted assholes?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)