I've always been a soft sciences person. Anthropology, linguistics, and history fit comfortably in my wheelhouse, whereas chemistry and physics are forced to wedge themselves in the remaining awkward spaces. In order to graduate from college, I had to take a human physiology class that my advisor claimed was "designed for the humanities-minded," which sounded great but had a twice-a-week 8 a.m. lab — not so great. As it turned out, my lab partner and I were the only non-nursing majors in the class. Without fail in every class experiment, we'd be the ones with the data that didn't quite add up, or the test tube of urine that spilled, or the laptop that froze right as we were about to save our work. One particularly sad lab required us to anesthetize frogs, observe their blood flow patterns, and then plop them in a water bath to revive them. We watched as each group baptized their frogs, bringing them immediately and miraculously back to life. After about 10 minutes of staring at ours, floating listlessly in the top of the bucket, the professor came over and gave it a poke. "Yep, that is one dead frog," he said, wholly unsurprised that our specimen was... More >>>