Almost 2014.

"If you try, you are leagues ahead of any other person who wants to do it but is afraid to." 

- Anna Akana 

If there's anything I've realized these past few days, I've realized that change is scary. Or, in my current condition, that the decision to make change happen is scary. I can only hope that my choice - though it is a safer, less risky choice - will bring me in the right direction.  

I like the New Year. It's a fresh feeling, and as fake and excuse-filled the "New Year, clean slate" theory may sound (I mean, come on. Let's face it. Our past will always come back and haunt us, and the difference between 11:59PM and 12:00AM from December 31 to January 1 doesn't exactly reinvent me as an individual), it still gives me great hope. I feel extra motivated and pumped to actually achieve something when January 1 rolls around. So why not take advantage of my extra energy? Nothing wrong with that.

I spent some time today writing down things I like about myself, things I want to improve on, and then forming my overarching New Year's Resolution: to exercise more self-control. Don't act on emotion, and especially don't let frustration overcome you and take over your decisions in the spur of the moment. In every small action I take, even small things such as eating, studying, and everyday interactions with friends/strangers, I need to be able to discipline myself. I've lacked discipline in so many aspects of my life that have caused me so many tears and regretful moments. 

How funny but unsurprising that it was easy for me to think of a huge list of what I need to improve on, but difficult to think of aspects I liked about myself. Is this human nature? To never be pleased with yourself? It took me a good three minutes to even think of one personality trait or action that I appreciate from myself. Shows how I see myself, and how I consistently view myself in such a negative light.

Maybe the Jessica right now is not someone I particularly like. But that will be changed. And how can I expect other people to like me if I don't even like me? I might be afraid of change, especially change that involves reinventing myself. It's time for me to get over my fear, and take the time to improve myself through constant practice of things I am passionate about. 

Bring it, 2014. 

Am I doing the right thing?

My fall quarter final exams have officially come to an end. Moment entering exam: I can handle this. I've spent countless hours solidifying my understanding of the material. Walking out of exam: Eyes are disoriented, face expressionless, and ultimately looking like a defeated soldier.

Many college students may be able to empathize with me on those cringe-worthy post-final exam moments. Those moments are worthy of great reflection and pondering. It makes me question whether or not I made the right decision to apply to college as an Electrical Engineering major, and if deciding to stick with engineering was a wise decision. All throughout last year, my emotions surrounding my decision to pursue engineering were contradicting on entirely different ends of the spectrum. Sometimes I felt incredibly inspired by the progress and incredible changes engineering has brought to our culture. Google Doodles' Grace Hopper feature gave me the necessary motivation to discipline myself and surge through studying for my exams. Other times, I feel completely out of place. Despite focusing every ounce of energy to the professor during lecture, reviewing and previewing material, and sacrificing sleep to further my studies, I constantly feel unable to master course material. I thought this was a plague for my first year of college, but even as I complete one quarter of my second year, I'm uneasy.

I started this quarter feeling motivated. I was excited to take my first class that began with the label "Electrical Engineering" and believed I had developed better habits and learned lessons from my previous year in college. And now, at the end of fall quarter, I still question whether or not all these struggles with few desirable results are worthwhile of my time and endeavors. It's no secret that engineering school has the reputation of being strenuous and arduous. Some people find it worthwhile. Others wish they had chosen a different career path. Me? I don't know. My feelings vary on a weekly basis. From experience, I have no doubt that there is no satisfaction or joy in a task until I have accomplished it and can perform it to the best of my ability. But being in the fast-paced quarter system, understanding a plethora of physical, mathematical, and circuitry phenomena in a short 10 weeks and being expected to retain this information with only partial understanding are not reasonable goals I should be setting for myself. Moreover, being female in a primarily male-dominated field further increases the chances of my discouragement. There are countless moments in this quarter when I look around my EE class, see no more than 8 other women in the classroom, notice male students staring at female students, and feel ridiculously self-conscious.

After every final exam this week, I have stopped to take some time to worry about the future and connect it to the pathetic and glorious acts I have done in the past. Finals are supposed to be the time for me to concentrate on mastering what I've learned this quarter, but the stress that comes with it has only made me worry more about everything other than finals themselves. I've craved therapeutically blogging and writing in my journal for the past two weeks, but incessant worrying under the demand to study for exams have caused me to become fuzzy-headed and even more conflicted.

But if I were to drastically change my life path, wouldn't I have more challenges to face? More complaints? Wishing I had done this instead of that?

Time to focus on the present and take one step at a time. I need to take baby steps and re-evaluate myself.

The worst part is realizing (as I wrote the previous sentence) how many times I have told myself that I need to re-evaluate each little choice I make in life that can boil the strongest emotions within me.

It's like a never-ending cycle.

"Will you be back again soon?"

Despite the incessant studying that has been accompanying my inflexible school schedule with midterms and quizzes which has caused my recent exhaustion, I re-discovered a former beacon of hope that brought the biggest smile to my face, contentment, and peace within: enlightening younger students, inspiring them to learn, and seeing their exciting responses and participation.

I'm not going to lie: the transition to being BEAM president has been tough. It's funny how you can work for months towards something, and it can all come crashing down within a few seconds due to unexpected complications. But I get it; this is all a part of the learning process. Disappointment and shattered plans are all naturally a part of a growing team that is learning to optimize its success and opportunities.

For the first time in several months, I visited a fourth-grade classroom and saw bright, curious faces who were so excited to be doing some hands-on science. While leading the class discussion, I asked them some questions related to osmosis and diffusion. What happens to your fingers when you guys are in the shower for too long? Can you relate that to what happens in Mr. Potato when he has been in salt water for too long? Every question I asked resulted in an astounding number of hands raised, all competitively eager to answer me (about 80% of the students raised their hands after every question). Well, how different this is from college science students; we're often very mundane and almost always sound wearied. Entering a room filled with enthusiastic young kids was incredibly refreshing. 

At the end of our session, several of the kids ran up to me with pleading, widened eyes and said, "Jessica, will you be back again soon? PLEASE?" I then announced to the class that we will be back next Friday. A roaring "HOORAY!" echoed throughout the room.

Going to the school is like seeing the fruits of the BEAM team's labor. And this motivates me to build an even stronger leadership which will continue reaching out to younger students, exposing them to the exciting and relateable aspects of science.

Did I forget to mention that the kids were excited to show off their class pet, Leo?

Scatterbrained.

I've recently felt like my mind is everywhere. I'm having so many ambitious visions about my future and trying to learn new skills that my focus on my engineering studies has drifted to la-la land. One morning I wake up determined to brainstorm and write an outline for my book. The next day I suddenly really want to learn biology. An hour later I feel like composing a solo piece for cello. Then, before I know it, I want to refine my skills in Matlab, Python, and C++ all at the same time. This is me envisioning some supernatural version of myself successfully doing all this on top of my coursework.

My roommates constantly comment on how I seem to always be busy, writing like a maniac at my desk, reading something from my computer, or attending a meeting. Do you have time for yourself? Yes, I do. Every moment is time given for myself, but since my time is devoted to things that are drastically different, I am inefficient. I need to regain my focus and concentrate on one thing at a time.

My dreams of being an indie author, performing in Royce Hall, and saving the world from delirious diseases can wait. But this is only a short wait.

Breaking Out of Routine

Since I started my collegiate studies, I've always preferred a steady schedule with few surprises, where I can easily outline my routine for the next week. It makes me feel like I have control over my life in many aspects... study, class, diet, and exercise, to name a few. I had been so fixed on maintaining constants in my life that I come up with the greatest excuses and do whatever it takes to avoid adjustments.

Yet today, as I reflect on the events that took place these past four days, I realize how my insistence in staying in "routine" has only shown my selfishness and cowardice. Yes, I am not accustomed to Taiwanese foods, I abhor jet-lag, and I am likely the most fidgety person on a 12-hour plane ride.

But I barely made it on time.

She wasn't conscious when I rushed to the hospital. I could hear and see her breathing, her chest heaving up and down as she struggled to gulp for air. She's still here, I thought. She won't go quickly, she was just talking to me on the phone two days ago.. Feeling slightly less tense, I left the hospital, ready for a good night's sleep and prepared to spend the entire day with her in the hospital the next day. She'll wake up tomorrow, I thought.

A 5am phone call woke me and the rest of the family. She was in trouble, and her lungs were failing. We all rushed to the hospital, breathless. I looked at the Blood Pressure and Heart monitor; her heartbeat was abnormally fast, although steady. With other organs gradually failing, her heart was pumping faster than usual. Her blood pressure was far too low, but consistent. For the next few hours, everyone walked anxiously in and out of the ward.

At 10:22am, I saw the Blood Pressure and Heart monitor numbers declining rapidly. Her heart rate had fallen to 60 beats per minute, and within the next minute, it fell to 50 beats per minute. Out of nowhere, the screen showed an unwanted question mark and the nurses came rushing in. Before I knew it, the hospital staff were shaking their heads with apologetic faces. Tears rushed to my eyes, and I sobbed uncontrollably. I looked to my left, and I saw my cousin and dad fighting tears.

My paternal grandmother is the third person I've lost in my life to cancer. Both of my maternal grandparents left several years ago from cancer as well, and when I saw my paternal grandmother lying helplessly in the ward, memories of seeing others in a fragile state, fighting cancer to their fullest extent, came swerving back. And these memories hit me hard.

I've been out of summer classes for nearly four weeks now. Yet, the thought of going back to Taiwan to see my grandma while she was still alive, communicating with the people around her, never hit me. Why? I could think of so many excuses that had crossed my mind: I needed a "break" after classes, I can't sit long enough for an airplane ride to the other side of the country, Taiwanese people eat food that I can't stand to even look at, it's too hot and humid for me there, and I won't be using a bathroom with proper toilet paper (this is real - my paternal grandparents' house doesn't only lack WiFi, but also lacks trashcans and toilet paper) are among them.

A day before I arrived, my grandma's eyes were open, and her voice carried a strength that made everyone believe she was getting well. I could have spoken with her, and laughed with her. But I didn't, all because I truly believed that my life would just be so incredibly out-of-sync if I did. I used to think I was a grateful, giving individual. I loved giving to the community and helping my neighborhood. Now, I understand how selfish I am for not even being able to change some routines for a couple days to see one of the most important people in my life and joke with her the way we used to when she was healthy. Something so simple was something I still couldn't accomplish.

As I'm choosing the music for her funeral and writing about the joyful memories my grandma and I share, I've come to realize that these past few days have been filled with self-reflection and self-doubt. I know my grandma would encourage me to learn from my experiences, and move on tomorrow to be a person who is stronger, fiercer, and more intelligent than the individual I was yesterday.

And I know that I am.

Rest in peace, grandma. I love you.

Circular schooling

 From Ideas for Improving Science Education

"I would change that to a system where we reward mastery of the subject matter, rather than grading on a curve... We are wasting a lot of human potential." 

- John Matsui

"We need to create opportunities to excite students about how math and science connect to real life." 

- Freedman A. Hrabowski III

"We'd like kids to learn how to solve hard problems and what it takes to pull off a complex endeavor, how to plan, collaborate, fail and not give up."

- Paulo Blikstein 

"Science with humanity is googol times more amazing... I'd like to see STEM turned into STEAM."
- John Maeda

a brief manifesto on education and the future of our technologically-reliant society

“It must be a strange world not being a scientist—going through life not knowing—or maybe not caring about where the air came from, where the stars at night came from or how far they are from us. I want to know.” 

-Michio Kaku 

When I was 10 years old, I began to see the world of electronics unfold around me. Gradually, many of my friends were excited at the process of obtaining their own cell phones; I remember the Motorola Razor was in style when I was in middle school. Today, I look around and see 10 year-olds using smartphones to check Facebook and play games. As computers, cell phones, tablets, and other electronic devices continue to play an increasingly eminent role in the development of modern society, it is important that young students gain a better understanding of how these devices work as to understand the power of their roles in our everyday lives.

My parents gave me my first cell phone when I was in 6^th grade. It’s the type of phone that has become termed the “dinosaur”: a three and a half inch phone with a square screen measured about half an inch on each side with large pad-dialing and no cover. I had been excited to finally have ownership of this thing I learned to call a cellular phone. In late elementary school, I was exposed to the world of computers, having typed my first assignment all by myself. I was fascinated by the huge monitor, the wireless mouse, and the CPU. As a kid, I had no idea how these devices worked, but I knew one thing for sure: they offered me an awful lot of convenience in life. Instead of walking in to an office near my bus stop to call my mom and tell her I was there, I could call her directly from my cell phone. Rather than trying so hard to write in a straight line as neatly as I could for my science poster, I could type on Microsoft Word, and even make my words fancy with WordArt.

For the past 18 years of my life, I have taken these electronic devices for granted. I use them daily for my social life, school, work, and other resources. During my pre-collegiate life, I was too familiar with the stereotype given to students who were interested in the details of electronics. They were termed geeks and nerds, and commonly labeled to have “no life.” The internet portrayed them constantly sitting in front of a computer with no rays of sunshine seeping through their windows. This falsified image is what initially drove me away from computing, and I even neglected my computer science classes upon entering college. However, after a year of meeting so many diverse individuals and finally taking my first computer language class (read my initial reaction to C++ here), I have grown to have tremendous respect for those who excel at computer science – the individuals who have allowed society to now rely on dependable devices.

As stated in this NY Times article which was published a few years ago, I believe that there are two major changes needed for the education of younger generations: the public perception of computer scientists which is ingrained in young students’ minds, and the need to implement computer science in their education so students can better understand the power it plays in their everyday lives. The UCLA Computer Science Project has had great progress and success in exposing high school students to the realm of computer science. The curricula emphasizes problem-solving through brainstorming and interpreting algorithms while incorporating social analysis concepts for students to better understand what computer science algorithms are realistic for today’s society.

I believe that the work of the UCLA Computer Science Project and other similar projects can be extended to younger students in elementary and middle school. At that point in their lives, kids are most curious about their surroundings and how things work. By learning algorithms at a young age, students develop logic and critical thinking skills, ultimately improving their skills in other subjects such as mathematics and even language arts. They could outgrow the idea of a geeky computer scientist frantically coding and gain more respect for individuals who ensure the development of safe technology for the general population and maybe, one day, become the person to form the next groundbreaking device for future generations. Perhaps these kids will develop a liking for making games or designing animations. One unknown success of the computer science world is the progress made in the Wireless Health Industry. The well-being of humanity is becoming even more dependent on the research in computer science areas. Athletes rely on wireless devices to improve their stamina and performances, and individuals are able to measure their heart rate and temperatures on-the-go without the need for overwhelmingly expensive equipment.

Students who are educated and inspired by computer science will ultimately gain skills and ideas that are worthwhile for a lifetime. The goal is not to be converting every child into a future computer scientist, but to have them understand basics in the world of electronics which is gradually becoming a core part of society. As more affordable and convenient devices are being developed and, most importantly, understood by the general public, computer science developments can not only changing the lives of those in Los Angeles and the United States, but the lives of people all over the world. 

"Engaging Young Minds"

Thursday, August 1, 2013 -

On behalf of BEAM with Perry, Liz, and Emily, I had the opportunity to participate in a panel, which was part of a 4-day teacher workshop, Engaging Young Minds. The audience of about 100+ mostly consisted of elementary school teachers. With the new state standards putting emphasis on the engineering design process and STEM in general, it is understandable that many educators feel anxious and slightly intimidated. I thought back to elementary school, when my teachers at each grade level were required to teach absolutely everything - Science, Math, English, History... even when they probably didn't specialize in that particular field! By introducing educators to BEAM and sharing our elementary school experiences with science, our goal was to show that science isn't such a terrifying subject. Science provides a plethora of opportunity to learn and enlivens curiosity within young children.

When we arrived at the venue, the first thing I noticed were the packages filled with indiscernible objects near front of the auditorium. I later learned that these materials were provided by Trash for Teaching. Educators were working on a hands-on project during the workshop with the materials. I loved the message conveyed: you can learn science with simple, everyday materials. There's no need to be spending big bills on fancy, enigmatic equipment.

The packages supplied by Trash for Teaching.

 The general outline of the panel:

1. Presentation time! We opened up the panel by introducing some of the departments within the School of Engineering, transitioning to a brief talk on the Blackawton Bees study (all done by kids ages 8-12), introducing BEAM, and then sharing our experiences with science when we were in elementary school. 
2. Demonstrations of some of BEAM's showcase lessons: stomp rockets, microscopes, zip-line balloon racers, rubber band cars, and lung models.
3. Concluded with a fabulous Q&A session.

During the presentation, I learned something about myself: I've gradually grown out of my anxiety for speaking in front of large audiences. In the past, I gave presentations with smaller audiences of no more than 40 people. Being able to participate in a panel to share my thoughts and stories about a matter I care deeply about brought out a rather talkative side of me. And, most importantly, I realized how important it is to educate others about STEM, and how sciences and arts are inherently connected. Small sidetrack: I was talking with Liz and she mentioned how there was talk about "S.T.E.M" being adapted to "S.T.E.A.M." - science, technology, engineering, arts, and mathematics. I like that change - let's all start hash-tagging #STEAM in our twitter and facebook accounts.

Many of the teachers were intrigued and impressed by BEAM's student-designed lesson plans. Some spontaneously asked me for advice and feedback on their current lessons. How can I include hands-on experimentation with a topic like ecology? How should I have them better understand the concept of erosion? I then recognized my broad knowledge of science, creatively thinking of ways for elementary school teachers to incorporate the engineering design process in their curricula. It also delights me that teachers were interested in having passionate BEAM mentors visit their classrooms and work with their students.

After the panel, I reflected more about my education as a kid. In elementary school, I really did have great instructors who encouraged me to experiment with science and discover new things - we had science fair projects and Elmer's tri-fold posters to work with, hands-on activities with rocks and minerals, astrocamp... I definitely liked science when I was younger and realized how ubiquitous it is. The funny part: while this should have prompted me to pursue a degree in STEM fields, the fact that science is everywhere scared me. It felt like too much for me to handle at that time. Math and science were probably my weakest subjects when I was younger, and I didn't have the mindset to pursue those subjects then. I surprised myself when I selected Electrical Engineering as my major on all my college applications two years ago. So what happened in-between?

The major change took place in high school. Ironically, I was part of a humanities-based program in high school which put a lot of focus on writing. Every day, I was writing... writing about Nietzsche, Danto, existentialism, Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, and Steel, and the list goes on. All this extensive writing fostered my critical thinking skills and helped me become a better communicator, and I am beyond thankful to my high school education for providing me these skills. I was also very lucky to have some great math and science teachers in high school. Three years of math with Mr. Butler and one year of physics with Ms. Blumfield (but really two years, considering how much I visited her classroom in senior year) sealed the deal for me. Despite some ridiculous homework problems (would I really slide my book on an icy surface and then calculate the conservation of momentum?), great instruction from 10th to 12th grade made me love physics and math. I even surprised my self by opting to self-study for AP Physics C in senior year.

While the discussion on Thursday did claim that students tend to make a decision about whether or not they like science in 3rd-5th grade, I know that there people like myself who didn't decide to pursue a career in STEM until their late teens. I never quite realized how the people around me played such a critical role in inspiring me about STEM, leading me to choose the career path I am pursuing today.

The lovely view from the 3rd floor of Boetler Hall.

And here I am, learning a little more every day, hoping that in the near future, I can contribute something beneficial for many communities I belong to.

the real focus / reflections of one year in college

A lot can happen within 8-9 months in school. My first year in college was primarily a learning experience -- one that proved very different from that of high school.

In high school, there was typically a direct correlation between hard work and the letter grade earned in a class. I grew up with that mentality, believing that the work I put in would usually reflect the rewarding grade an instructor gives in return. For me, college became a whole different story. "Learning" became rather burdensome, because there seemed to be no correlation between my effort put in and the grades I received. 

Adjusting to the quarter system itself was a huge challenge. The fast pace and constant testing of the quarter system took me by surprise. Small sidetrack: I have very conflicted feelings about the quarter system. Yes, it forces students to complete courses at a faster rate, but merely 10 weeks to digest brand new material is unfathomable for me. Now, I can hardly remember much about Schrodinger's equation, one of the main topics of discussion in my chemistry class during fall quarter. Yet, on the other hand, this rapid learning process has been training my brain to process new information more efficiently. 

I find it interesting (and disappointing) that it took me quite a while to grasp one very, very important aspect of my academic career: focus on learning, not on the grade. This may seem obvious, but it is frightening how easily my fear of failure can overtake and cause me to underestimate the educational process and focus solely on the product. In college, people around me all seemed to be very high achievers, and understanding new material clearly proved more difficult for me than others. The thought of letter grades consumed me, and I became so focused on the small, printed letters on my transcript. Academics became an onus as I lost interest in the topics discussed in class. Some professors taunted students about their grading policies and high expectations, and  certain TAs didn't make the process any more bearable.  

Slowly but surely, the prospect of being in school to learn something worthwhile in college rather than feeling miserable over grades dawned on me. Part of this epiphany came from my volunteer work with BEAM, an outreach group on campus. Every week, I teach a basic science concept to a group of young elementary school students, then perform an experiment with them to encourage active participation in their education. Their intelligence and eagerness to understand the ubiquity of science is contagious. I noted how I lacked their enthusiasm and interest when it came to learning. Enlightening these kids about science is one thing, but they served as an encouraging beacon of hope in my life during my academic crisis. They made me realize I need to change my attitude and mindset towards school. 

I'm slowly adjusting back to a student lifestyle that makes me happier. In spring quarter, I finally borrowed a book from the college library for casual reading, something I had not done for a long time. I started writing in my journal again. I fostered a higher sense of curiosity towards material in my classes and its applications. Talking with upperclassmen and approachable professors put me at ease. I continue to remind myself that I am in school to learn material and discover my interests rather than be judged on a letter grade. 

On the other hand, I have made so many incredible friends who continue to inspire me to keep fighting through the most difficult of times, even when it is beyond tempting to quit. We laugh about things most people wouldn't understand: my apparent addiction for bananas (at one point, I consumed three bananas in a row), my insistence on eating oatmeal with soy milk and wheat bread for breakfast (and how I can never skip breakfast), our love for charming Pokemon stuffed animals, giving ourselves special superpowers like characters in Avatar: The Last Air-bender, making plans to lounge around at McDonald's and a 24-hour Wal-mart,  and wishing we had some dainty Despicable Me minions with us. Pretty much, there is always uncontrollable laughter. 

I'm considered a seal and my friend a bunny ("weird" doesn't even begin to describe this). Seals and bunnies can certainly be best buds! Tong, thank you for drawing me this and forming a smile on my face every time I see this.

As summer classes continue and with fall quarter looming around the quarter, I'm both anxious and excited (but mostly excited) to see what surprises I have in store for myself with the decisions I make and the actions I take.

scrumptious comp sci

From the deepest realms of my mind is where I must dig with passionate love and hatred in order to successfully write a C++ code. 

The human mind is a funky one. While a child may be extremely imaginative and undoubtedly creative, many may argue that a child lacks the patience to thoroughly rationalize information. As we grow into adults and encounter situations which require some sort of logical thinking process (maybe practicing common courtesy, or trying to figure out how an exam is attempting to trick us in every way possible), our brains supposedly reason more than they used to when we were toddlers. 

Reasoning with children is a difficult process. I'm not even referring to a school setting where it is nearly impossible to explain some basic grammar concepts to them without some fidgety kids here and there. Just think of a common scenario where a child insists on buying his/her zillionth toy of the week, having forgotten that there are other new toys lying idle on the floor at home. Then the parent is likely to try to reason with (or scold) the child. Fact 1: You just bought the same toy of a different color yesterday. Fact 2: Your toy is not broken. Conclusion: You may still go home and play with the same toy and (possibly) feel the same joy as you would if you owned a blue toy truck instead of a yellow one.

When I began learning C++, it certainly felt like I was instructing a child.. a very stubborn child who only obeys me if I speak to him/her in with the perfect voice tone and language. Forget one condition and this child goes wild. In a good (and a bad) way, this child called the computer is unable to throw emotional tantrums at me if I instruct it incorrectly. Yet I must spend hours, maybe days, trying to figure out exactly where I misspoke in addressing this child who only speaks one language at a time. Furthermore, there is this identification process the computer child makes with the ASCII table that took me far too long to figure out. Well, that's the setback of having a mute child who only communicates with me through error messages on a monitor..

For me to communicate with my computer child requires the utmost patience. This patience isn't a patience I must practice with someone or something else, but is a patience I must learn to have with myself. The computer child is an inanimate object. I can scream viciously at it when it refuses to compile and read my commands as I desire, but it has no reaction. In the end, I only frustrate myself further. 

Programming in C++ certainly requires concentration and self-control and really tests my level of patience. C++ is able to create simple "Hello world!" and mathematical calculations to some of the most powerful applications present today. What's fascinating (and equally draining) about C++ is its lack of abstraction. Every little detail must be coded in order for the computer to dissect the instructions we give. C++ forces me to think deep down and rationalize (the human ability to rationalize is a gift that many don't use... and I think it is often taken for granted). It's truly testing whether or not I know what I may think I know.

Well, C++, allow me to forget a semicolon or an equal sign for you to disobey my commands occasionally. One day, I will learn to communicate efficiently with you.