Abalone

I feel like I am at the end of an exhausting week, although it is the beginning.  But I have at least one funny thing to write about.

For my statistics class, I have to write a 6-8 page paper using quantitative analysis.  We were given several datasets to chose from, covering topics such as forest fires in Portugal, world data from 1998, and wine.  Unlike my colleagues, who have chosen to write on topics such as the relationship between GDP and cell phone usage in oil-producing countries or inflation and economic indicators in developing countries, I have chosen to write about the abalone, a mollusk also known as the ear-shell, sea ear, or muttonfish.  My paper will explore whether the abalone's physical characteristics (such as length and weight) are useful in predicting its age.  This is relevant because the current method used to predict an abalone's age is to cut it open and count the rings in its shell, or something like that, described by the author of the data-set as a "boring and time-consuming task."  So, in sum, my findings might be life-saving for the abalone.

Despite how interesting all of this may sound, in class on Saturday morning, I started to wonder why I had chosen this dataset.  My rationale had been that this data would allow me to run a certain type of test that I am interested in learning how to run.  I won't go into great detail about that, but being able to use this particular statistical tool will very likely be useful for me in the future.  Beyond that, the abalone data is also pretty straightforward and easy to work with.  But when all of my classmates were discussing their reasonable, international-related topics, and I was thinking about how I might be able to use this paper to get a job with a wildlife-related organization in Tazmania, I started to doubt my rationale.  However, my group, with the help of my professor came up with a title for my paper: "Save the Mollusk: New Approaches to Age Determination," which was somewhat encouraging.  It got a bit ridiculous...one of my classmates suggested that I read the Declaration of Human Rights as a preface to my paper presentation, and we had a few laughs.  But, encouragingly, my professor also told me that she thought my rationale for choosing the abalone dataset made perfect sense (and that she liked my jacket).  So that's that...while I write my education paper on peace education in refugee camps in Kenya, I will also be working on a paper on abalone age determination.  It's probably good to mix things up occasionally...

falafel

Writing often feels like wading through something, since there are so many things I could make more concrete through writing and I never know where to start, although I often do, at least vaguely.  But I don't like making trade-offs.

Well, I am apparently going to Kenya.  Not "apparently" because it's of my own volition, but it still seems very distant and somewhat comic in my head.  I spent a while being sidetracked talking about Kenya with my Swahili language partner on Saturday when we were supposed to be reviewing my homework, and she said things like, bring cookies so the kids will like you and don't be bothered if people are very forward about your height and weight and face and kids run after you yelling, "white person, white person!"  So, yes, Kenya.  I am very excited about the entire thing, and details will be forthcoming.

I have been struggling lately to manage a massive amount of content--my work-study job at Manual High School where I am ferociously trying to coordinate and organize people...my coursework which demands hundreds of pages of reading and my active engagement...my going to the gym and concern for my legs...Swahili...planning for summer 2012...my internship which demands patience and commitment...and my trying, trying, trying to stay sane and in touch and at peace.

Also, when Condoleezza (two z's) Rice was here, I saw her sitting on a couch outside of a classroom brushing her hair.  Maybe I should do that too.  She talked about the anxiety associated with starting your career--you find fault in most of what you do and find very little measurable evidence that you're doing anything right.  Not to sound so depressive, but I feel that way very frequently here.  Every professor I have is different, and when I pressure myself so often to be successful in that person's eyes, it mostly backfires.  It seems that being a "graduate student" demands high quality in everything, and it's hard to feel that I can always deliver that.  I just worry about it frequently.  And I need to remember to always have people first.

So, there's that.  I am at peace in some ways but overwhelmed in many others.  Now off to wrapping up some work, intently, so I can read before I go to sleep and happily manage the week, maybe eat some falafel.