If IKEA made cars...

When I was a little kid, the only thing I knew about Sweden was that they made little gummy fish and meatballs. And for the longest time I thought the only market for Swedish fish was the small eastern Idaho town of Malad. Whenever we would visit my Grandma there, we would do three things: fish at Crowthers Reservoir, eat some good bacon, and purge ourselves on Swedish fish. I never saw the candy anywhere else, so I figured they had a special market with old folks (I think the mean age in Malad is about 70). Well, I guess the GDP from Swedish fish and meatballs wasn’t good enough, because they moved into the furniture market—and the world is a better place for it.

Who knew the Swedes had so much engineering skill hiding behind those tight blonde braids and blue eyes. Their furniture is incredible! IKEA makes my life heavenly with tiny chairs, sleek designs, and space-saving, ready-to-assemble furniture. A trip to IKEA routinely sets me back about 150 bones, but I never have buyer’s remorse. Where else can you get an 8 dollar side table and feel like a king of modern interior design? I think they should get into other markets. Like the auto industry, for example.

If IKEA made cars, they would be cheap, efficient, and cute as a button! I’m sure an IKEA car would have a hideaway stove, room for 12 people, a separate bedroom, and still be the size of a Honda Civic, all at the price of a scooter. While we are admiring them so much, why don’t we just let the Swedes rule the world? Oh yeah, they did once and people hated them and their pointy, horned helmets. But I don’t think they would rape, pillage, and burn as much now as they did back then. They would just make cute tables for everyone, and maybe make Dancing Queen the world anthem.

A Day in the Life

When I tell people that I'm majoring in Chemical Engineering it usually elicits a response of, “oh wow” or, “so you must be smart”. Of course, it’s a little bit harder than the average major, but the coursework is nothing compared to how difficult it is to work with my classmates. I am going to explain my typical day as a student in the supposed “hardest major” at BYU.

               
 I start my mornings at 6:00 AM with a trip to the gym to get ripped, seems to be working out quite well, if you don’t believe me, ask me to take my shirt off, I will gladly do it, and you will never want me to put it back on. Actually that is all a lie, I try to work out at 6:00, but usually I put snooze on until 7:45 and either go late to my 8:00 AM class or just don’t go. It’s ok because it is just Chemical Engineering and Society. I already know all the stuff they teach me and I am probably the most liberal eco freak of all my crazy right wing, gun totin’ classmates (we talk about the environment a lot in that class, so their viewpoints come out). Then I get a two hour break where I do my homework and study while I watch the Price Is Right. I am sorry, but I think Drew Carrey is actually doing a bang up job.

               
Anywho, then I go back up to the Clyde Building for some Materials Science. I don’t mind that class because half of them are seniors and they seem to be a little more in touch with reality than my fellow juniors. Here is brief description of the stereotypical juniors in my classes.

Number 1

1. The girl who thinks out loud, shouting every answer to the professor because she knows she is smarter than everyone else.

               
2. The girl who only wears pink and blue that is only in the major to find a boy who is going to be rich someday, chemical engineers typically earn lots of money.

               

Number 3

3. The chunky kid with his butt crack hanging out who is always a half a step behind in the conversation.

               
4. The guy who thinks he is cool by blurting out the most complex mumbo jumbo to solve the simplest problem.

               
5. All the people who think number 4 is really cool.

               
This is my life.

I begin dealing with these people at 2:00 PM in Physical Chemistry. The first day of class, my professor said that P-Chem was the study of everything—so far he is right. I pretty much know a little bit about a ton of stuff. I won’t bother telling you because you won’t understand it, but no worries, I don’t either. My classmates seem to already know everything about everything, or at least you’d think that by the way they talk. I am surprised the professor can even teach with everyone and their dog finishing his sentences.

               
Then my day culminates with Fluids Mechanics, which is full of juniors:  internship hungry, blood thirsty, top-of-their-high-school-class, young engineers vying for top position. They go to the library every day, read 5 days ahead, do every homework problem 1,000 times and brag about how awesome their major is. They all seem to think that chemical engineering is the cat’s pajamas and that no one in another major can think on the same level as the dullest Chem E major.

                 
Spoiler alert— ALL THE OTHER MAJORS HAVE INTELLIGENT PEOPLE TOO—I seriously overhear them bad mouth English, History, and Art majors because they are lesser degrees. I wish there was some way to open their minds and shove something other than an equation in there, maybe a novel? It is frustrating, but I feel like I have an advantage over them because I actually know who Herman Melville, Monet, and Louis XIV were. I like to write, and believe it or not, I can carry on a conversation that doesn’t involve the intricacies of the Schrodinger Equation.

               
I hope I can survive the next two years…