Capes and Tights

Went to Algebra today for no good reason other than to read a chapter of ecology. I was warned in advance by the professor that the text is dry, tedious, and difficult. It was the fastest chapter I've ever read. I'm not sure what kind of reviewers the book has had, but I thought it was excellent--well-written, with plenty of information and case studies. Granted, it's a lot of material, but I didn't feel rushed through anything, as I often do with textbooks.

Physics is a completely different story. I have the feeling that all my homework assignments will be completed in the professor's office this semester. I've forgotten most of what I vaguely thought I knew at the end of last year, and electricity and magnetism (read: lots and lots of math) has never been my strong suit.

I came to college thinking I was pretty good at math, and my first couple of calc classes did nothing to disabuse me of my illusions. The upper level physics classes hit me hard. It'd be a lie to say I don't like math. I love math when I can see the point. Proofs for the sake of prettiness don't really get me unless I'm in a proving mood. I'd rather see experimental evidence than lines of equations when learning physics, and qualitative explanations tend to grant me more understanding. After I've got the idea, then I can look at the math and see how it works. But math alone isn't enough for me.

That's because at heart I'm an experimentalist to a fault. I really only care about the theory as it pertains to what can happen in front of me. It's why I love my job/senior project so much--we're making the theory as we do the experiments. There isn't a lot of previous theory to know. And there's very. little. math.