A Couple Confessions From Your Favorite Romantic Chemistry Academic….

Hot espresso with a small slice of lemon peel and a hint of anisette liqueur, warm flaky buttery croissant, small batch of tart raspberries, dark chocolate bar with sprinkles of hazelnut, and amethyst coloured figs straight off the tree.

I got these precious books today! I swear that I do not have anymore space for books in my apartment. But, I still get them anyways.

Day in the life of a Natural Science academic.

-I am absolutely in love with Santiago Ramon y Cajal and Camillo Golgi. I found it quite fascinating learning about their lives and the influence both had on Modern Neuroscience.

Santiago kind of has my heart because he is everything but the stereotypical idea of a scientist. He actually wanted to become an artist but that went against his father’s wishes and Santiago became quite…the rebel in school. But with time, he was intrigued by histology and proceeded to conducting a lot of research, one of them being neurons and Golgi’s Black Reaction. Santiago was able to illustrate neurons as shown in one of the pictures above. And he improved Golgi’s reaction that was a staining method using (silver nitrate and potassium chromate).

Tea gets cold so quickly, it should be illegal.

Is there anything better than reading a book and having a cuppa?

Yesssss

the chemistry students

safety goggles and pristine white lab coats

the low flame of a bunsen burner

memorizing polyatomic ions, knowing the periodic table by heart

data tables filled with neat strings of numbers

the satisfying clink of glassware on the lab table

precision and steady hands

strings of calculations and conversions

balancing reactions in your head on the first try

deep focus, working through the procedure step by step

cold coffee abandoned on the windowsill

the light pink of a perfect titration

performing flashy demonstrations to impress your friends, delighting in their surprise

finding real world examples of complicated topics

graph paper and messy handwriting only you can understand

chemical formulas scrawled across the blackboard at the front of the classroom

neatly formatted lab reports

periodic table hung on your wall, atomic models on your bookshelf

hair pulled back, not a strand out of place

studying alchemy, fascination with the early pioneers in your field

lewis dot structures doodled in the margins of your lab notebook

working in the lab late at night, performing trial after trial until you know your data is accurate

formulas scribbled on your hands

being unfazed by vials of deadly chemicals

the vibrant colors of pH indicator solution

the gratification of a hypothesis proven correct

Melancholic Medical Student by the Sea

Salty air, grey fog, chilly breeze, cricket chirps, full moon, partially cloudy sky, slippery rocks, cold sand, paper cut, oversized faded blue plaid shirt, chemistry books on the floor, cold abandoned coffee, black cat sleeping an emerald green flannel, heavy rain tapping on the window, cold ears, neatly folded navy scrubs, warm candlelight, unfinished lab report, iodine, verses from Hamlet running through my mind as I drift into daydreams…unable to concentrate, it is cold and I keep reading the same page about aortic aneurysms, dried out perrywinkles, half eaten toast, Franz Schubert’s Schwanengesang, D. 957: IV. Ständchen playing on the record player at a low volume, skull on desk, seagulls dropping blue mussels on the empty beach parking lot, unopened letters, heavy eyelids, barnacle shells, bleak oblivion, creaking floorboards, anatomical sketches collecting dust, distant breaking waves, unreciprocated love, tight chest, fidgeting, messy illegible notes, smell of old books, staring into nothingness….

“To die, to sleep- to sleep, perchance to dream/ Ay, there’s the rub, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come” (Hamlet, 3.1)

Imagine

I want write poetry and epic fantasy or history or both and I want to travel to old cities and try to transport myself back in time to when the architecture and frescoes were new and baroque was the new thing. I want to hear the people speak and how they’re conversations sounded. All we can do in our time is guess, but I want to know.

This is the epitome of academia and it’s beautiful in my eyes.

It is gelid outside. I am drowsy from reading and making annotations for hours on end. My eyes are burning ever so slightly. There is an owl hooting outside my window. I am now in bed…drifting into a dreamless sleep.