Blue skies, Barthy burgers, Girls!

Did I say I would let you know...

2010-08-29T07:43:00.000-07:00

Hmmm, I'll get you some photos in a few days. In the mean time, here are some highlights:

I teach 24 senior IB Biology students (IB Bio II), about 33 juniors (IB Bio I), and approximately 90 Environmental Science students of various ages but who are primarily juniors. I also have juniors in my homeroom...a school phenomenon which, based on having attended high school, I should have anticipated, but didn't. Other things I should have anticipated but didn't include 17-year-olds throwing scissors around a room, approximately 15 mold-growth on bread summer experiments, and a classroom full of unlabelled chemistry experiments from about 5 years' worth of teachers who stayed in my classroom for only a year.

Despite these unanticipated phenomena, things really are going great. I could work for 24 hours a day, but, based on my 6:45 am arrival time, I've set 4:45 pm as my going home time, which I stick to every day. I take papers home to grade but I have left my classroom at 4:45 every day and still gotten my classes planned, despite some days when it seemed highly unlikely. I pick up my baby boy and spend about 2 hours with him each night, which is sub-optimal, but I also get weekends with him and, in the future, long uninterrupted periods of time that would be out of the question in any other job.

I'm enjoying my regular-level Environmental Science class more than I anticipated because there's less pressure to perform and I think that the IB curriculum may actually be easier to tackle than I feared. We'll see how my scores turn out but there seems to be adequate time to practice the test inside of the prescribed curriculum. I enjoy reminding myself about the science I don't remember so well and I find that I learn things more quickly now than I did when I was in high school. Turns out all that "learning to learn" business isn't totally made up. Anyway, as I said, pictures will follow. The only pictures I've taken lately are of my boy, who can stand up (assisted) but otherwise refuses to meet milestones.

High School, here I come

2010-07-21T12:49:00.000-07:00

Well, the decision's been made. In about two weeks, I enter the wild world of teaching high school. "How did this happen?", you may wonder? "I thought you were having a great time investigating the microbial ecology of freshwater zooplankton disease dynamics." If you said that, you're totally right. I have had a great time. I have really enjoyed research, but, I can't be a PostDoc forever and appealing opportunities are hard to come by. So, when I got an email in my inbox looking for someone to teach IB Biology at a school in a charming Atlanta suburb, a school that already employs a friend of mine, a school that values higher education in its teachers and makes an effort to streamline the transition into teaching for those who are willing to work in their advanced programs, well, when I got that email, I sent in my resume. The rest is history.

I know that lots of things are going to change for me, not the least of which is the structured schedule that starts at 7am. That's right, I have to be at my job, which is about 30 miles from my house, at 7am. Fortunately, I've grown accustomed to an early wake-up call (or maybe I should say 'wake-up cry'). Anyway, I'll miss my time at Georgia Tech but, honestly, it's way past time for me to move on. I've been here for 15 years. I've never been anywhere for 15 years! It's longer than I was in school before I came to Georgia Tech! If I add my education all up together, more than half of it was at Georgia Tech! Seriously, I never really envisioned myself as a "Georgia Tech person" and, yet, somehow, I've become an institution. I've been here longer than the campanile and it's on the logo! So, if I wasn't an adult before, I am now. I'll let you know how it goes.

What does it say about me that I love Sue Sylvester?

2010-06-12T07:39:00.000-07:00

i just posted the following quote to my facebook status update:

"Oh Dear God, please, please, stop talking. I'm trying desperately to ignore the treacly sweet inanity of your asinine conversation but now I've got bile in my mouth and I will hold my tongue no further." -Sue Sylvester

How many times has this sentiment crossed my mind? How many? Is that okay? Am I a bitter, middle aged prude obsessed with a cheerleading team on the inside?

Here's a whole list of quotes that makes me love her all the more. Sigh. I'm going to copy the diary entry for you because I'm currently watching it...

Dear Journal, Feeling listless again today. It began at dawn, when I tried to make a smoothie out of beef bones, breaking my juicer. And then at Cheerios practice, disaster. It was unmistakable. It was like spotting the first spark on the Hindenburg. A quiver. That quiver will lose us Nationals. Without a championship, I'll lose my endorsements, and without those endorsements, I won't be able to buy my hovercraft.

Sick days, home sick, away without leave actually

2010-06-08T09:57:00.000-07:00

I have the worst cold I've had since I was a kid. It makes me think of being a kid because of that and because my baby has it and I'm mothering a sick person, which I've never done and so I keep thinking about the only reference I have, my own mother. She mothered me when I was sick, obviously, and that happened when I was a kid. I would bring him 7-up but he's too small so I just stroke his head and whisper that I'm sorry he's sick. This reminds me of the fact that that's what my grandmother did when she came to visit my mom when my mom was dying. That is incredibly sad so, to lighten the mood, I'll tell the following story:

I walked down to the mailbox this morning to put my netflix movies in it and, had the garbage men come, to roll back up the garbage can. My 80+-year-old chatty neighbor was just getting out of his car as I walked back toward my house. When I got ready to open the door to go in, I turned to see him standing in his driveway facing me.

Me: [motions to throat]

Him: You don't have laryngitis do you!?!

Me: [clears throat and croaks] No, just a real sore throat.

Him: Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I noticed you've been home a lot. Does the baby have it too?

(My porch is approximately 50 yards from his driveway so I sort of have to shout.)

Me: He sure does.

Him: [cups hand near ear]

Me: [clears throat again] HE SURE DOES!

Him: [cups hand near ear again] I couldn't hear you. A plane was flying over.

Me: YES! YES, HE HAS IT TOO!!! [turns toward door]

Him: Well, I sure hope you feel better soon...

Me: THANKS! HAVE A GOOD DAY!!! [turns and goes into house]

Do you think that, by the time he asked me to repeat myself the second time, he had forgotten about the beginning of the conversation and my motion toward my throat? Or do you think maybe he forgot about how people shouldn't force people with sore throats to shout? Or maybe he is just that desperate to talk to someone besides his wife. It's hard to say.

Marine Lorax?

2010-05-27T04:45:00.001-07:00

The Lorax spoke for the trees 'cause the trees have no tongues. We all went crazy and started climbing onto "save the rainforest" movement. Paper got recycled and people scolded each other about the trees that went into their wasteful print jobs. I'm not sure it helped but we all realized that there was a crisis. Our parents and grandparents shook their heads sadly and talked about how, "All this used to be forest." We didn't maybe realize that, as we spoke, we were doing the same thing to the oceans.

The dead zone, the garbage patch, and now this. It's not going to be okay, you know? I just don't think it's going to be okay. We'll be explaining to our children about how we used to be able to just put bait on a line, catch a fish from the ocean, and eat it. They'll be like, "WHAAAA!?!" I'm not sure what to do. I'm excited to have a friend working on the problem. She realized it was a big deal years ago...What the f- are we gonna do?

What women talk about...

2010-04-29T12:30:00.000-07:00

I feel annoyed when men talk about how hard women are to understand. There are several reasons. It's hard to break down. But, a friend of mine recently said that he hates working in majority male workplaces because these environments tend to nurture conversations that revolve around sex and sports. The friend doesn't like to talk about either topic with his coworkers. This observation by my friend led me to consider what gets discussed in primarily female environments and it's not so easy to describe. This makes me think two things: (1) If I go around saying that all men talk about is sex and sports, gobs and tons of men would agree with me, but, I would be alienating and excluding lots of other men who don't. (2) If the men who say that women are hard to understand fall into the category of men who talk primarily about sex and sports, I can see how they would feel confused by the proverbial women, who have more than two topics of conversation. On the other hand, we have Randy Travis who extols that old men will "talk about the weather...forever and ever amen," while old women will "talk about old men." I think he's referring primarily to old farmers, whose jobs depend on the weather.

Now I will stop rambling to describe what I have thought of in terms of things I talk about when only women are around that I would not talk about if a man or two were present:

(1) My weight. Including my attempts to lose weight, how badly I have eaten recently, how fat I have become or fear I will become, and any recent fluctuations in my weight. This also includes conversations that fall under the umbrella of assuming that my companions worry about their weights as much as I do.

(2) Men. Sorry, I know it's cliche but it's true. Randy Travis is not totally wrong. It probably has to do with the minority's reliance on the majority, etc. Anyway, I talk to my female friends about my husband, their partners, the way men do things or don't do things, differences between genders (the conversation I'm currently sharing falls into category number 2), etc.

(2) How cute things are. This is the one that I mentioned to my friend. Many women will talk about pop idols but, in science, I find that lots of women like to talk about how cute baby animals and various microbes are (I'm a microbiologist). Also, sometimes, tiny glassware (particularly organic chemists).

All of this caused me to think about what I talk about when men are around. Some things that I talk about in the all-female lab would just stay in rotation, is what I've decided. No new topics that I can think of. Gender neutral topics include:

(1) Books that aren't totally embarassingly girly (i.e., romance novels, which go into the upper category).

(2) NPR. Always good for a conversation with other highly educated liberals.

(3) Funny stuff. As opposed to cute stuff. Videos of people falling down are one example. Having seen someone fall down would be another example.

(4) Science itself. You know, when we talk about work or what we're actually working on. What do you mean I never actually work!?!

(5) Politics and religion. These topics should never be discussed at work but often are.

Finally, the friend was saying that he wanted women around so that he could get away from the sex and sports talk. I replied that I also might enjoy having men around, but, then I remembered what we talk about when there aren't men around and realized that it's often me who started the conversation and that I might feel annoyed to not be able to gripe about my weight...or, you know, my period or breasts or whatever...

Oh, that sleep talkin' man

2010-04-21T06:32:00.001-07:00

http://sleeptalkinman.blogspot.com/

Surely you've all seen this but I just want to say that I love it. Allegedly, he talks in his sleep and his wife records it and puts it on the blog. I don't really care if it's true. I'm rarely this clever, asleep or awake. Everything he says makes me happy and laughy and, unlike me and the rest of you, he says something every day. He can be depended upon. Some of my favorites include, "Don't put the duck there, it's totally irresponsible. Put him on the swing, he'll have much more fun." and today's, "God, you whine like whale song. But a lot less eerie and beautiful and more, well, fucking annoying." Actually, all of today's are hilarious, which makes me feel a little like a grump-a-potamus because his wife does a little disclaimer about how unkind he was last night. Love. this. guy.

Oh, one more thing, this site confirms my suspicion that we're all more clever and enlightened when we're sleeping and that we, therefore, should prioritize sleep if we want to be smart.

Idyllic...sometimes

2010-04-12T17:00:00.001-07:00

Kevin put up a hammock in our back yard a couple of weekends ago. It's much more comfortable than I remembered hammocks being. We took some very charming photos of Milo and me out there:

It seems perfect, and it was. However, just an hour ago, I took Milo out there to try and re-live the moment. Problem #1: Kevin wouldn't go out because he wanted to continue watching the Braves. Problem #2: The sun was shining directly in the baby's eyes such that I had to walk around to the compost-pile side of the hammock. Problem #3: I came back in covered in something invisible that itches like a mother. Some sort of buggy. I can't see it but every now and then I pick at an itchy spot and have something between my fingers. It's too small to examine. I don't know what it is. I have 100 itchy spots.

Sandra Bullock and me

2010-03-30T17:31:00.000-07:00

In this editorial, David Brooks explains/asks:

Two things happened to Sandra Bullock this month. First, she won an Academy Award for best actress. Then came the news reports claiming that her husband is an adulterous jerk. So the philosophic question of the day is: Would you take that as a deal? Would you exchange a tremendous professional triumph for a severe personal blow?

Do you want to know something sad? I'm afraid that if I had been asked this question when I was in my third year of grad school, I might have said yes. I was working on developing a genetic system for Anaeromyxobacter in those days. It never did work, but, if it had, I would have been somewhat more scientifically successful than I currently am...I think. The trouble is that I sort of would have had to make this trade in order to follow up on my theoretical scientific success. As I sort of feel I would need to do now. I have been fairly successful, comparably speaking, and I am glad about that. But, having had the amazing gift of tremendous personal triumph also (i.e., amazing husband and mind boggling love for baby), I can't even imagine losing the latter, whereas, the former just seems to be a nice little fortunate thing. Probably, if I had failed in my career, I would feel differently. Particularly when my kid(s) get older and move away, I will be glad that I did this thing for my self. Also, I was incredibly glad to go back to work when Milers got old enough. That's not true for everyone and every job. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here but Brooks goes on to say:

if you had to take more than three seconds to think about this question, you are absolutely crazy. Marital happiness is far more important than anything else in determining personal well-being. If you have a successful marriage, it doesn’t matter how many professional setbacks you endure, you will be reasonably happy. If you have an unsuccessful marriage, it doesn’t matter how many career triumphs you record, you will remain significantly unfulfilled.

I agree that it's an easy decision to make. Also, it helps to explain why a person very close to me, who is in the middle of a divorce, has spent the last few years of her life continuously changing jobs. I think maybe she was trying to fill the hole.

According to one study, joining a group that meets even just once a month produces the same happiness gain as doubling your income. According to another, being married produces a psychic gain equivalent to more than $100,000 a year.

I like this final quote because I like to point out to myself how, since I married an attorney, I get double the fantastic happiness. Is that crass to admit? I think it's possible that the difference between my salary if I had gone crazy as a scientist would be $100,000 more than what I will likely do as a job now that I'm a mom. However, the scientist on whose salary I'm basing this estimate is not happier than I am and has told me more than once that he just wants a girlfriend...

...because, otherwise, it's just an endless string of baby pictures

2010-03-22T15:59:00.000-07:00

Hey, consider posting this yourself (as I did) to get out of writing a blog entry without taking yet another step away from your loyal follower.

1. What time did you get up this morning?
3:30 and then 6:30

2. Diamonds or pearls?
Pearls

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema?
Star Trek, I think...

4. What is your favorite TV show?
"favorite" is a difficult word. I've seen the entire series of the Gilmore Girls three times from beginning to end, which means it's beginning to wear thin. Ditto for 30 Rock. So, I'm currently really enjoying Pushing Daisies.

5. What do you usually have for breakfast
Cereal with fruit and nuts

6. What is your middle name?
Henry

7. What food do you dislike?
Ew, yeah, Boiled Eggs! Yuk.

8. What is your favorite CD at the moment?
Little Grey Girlfriend by Little Grey Girlfriend

9. What kind of car do you drive?
2005 Toyota Matrix (did not get recalled! too old! Wahoo!)

11. What characteristic do you despise?
sarcasm...just kidding...um...extreme and frequent sincerity (cocked head, concerned eyebrows)

12. Favorite item of clothing?
cardigan

13. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?
Vancouver Island

14. Favorite brand of clothing?
Merona

15. Where would you retire?
Coast of one of the good southern states: NC, SC, GA, or VA

16. What was your most memorable birthday?
I actually do remember my 21st, so, that one. Giant margaritas.

17. Favorite sport to watch?
Curling, it turns out, doesn't totally suck in the same way that all the other sports do. Actually, lots of stuff is fun if you're somehow invested (e.g., your college team in some sort of championship)

[skipped some stupid questions]

20. When is your birthday?
"two days after halloween" is what I told people when i was in elementary school.

21. Are you a morning person or a night person?
more morning than night

22. What is your shoe size?
9 1/2 (surely Emily's mom could have found it in her heart to leave this one off)

23. Pets?
Wyatt and Chloe, two cats.

24. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with us?
My baby is fantastic...not new news but it's something I seem to keep sharing with everyone.

25. What did you want to be when u grew up?
teacher

26. How are you today?
Fine, thank you.

27. What is your favorite candy?
Dark chocolate with stuff. I like the dried fruit ones, like pear.

28. What is your favorite flower?
I like them best when they're all together with one another...but, I'll say "peonies."

29. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to?
Saturday

30. What are you listening to right now?
the dryer

31. What was the last thing you ate?
Pho

32. Do you wish on stars?
not often. you can't really see them in my city.

33. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
purple

34. How is the weather right now?
unseasonably cold.

35. The first person you spoke to on the phone today
Kevin. he's pretty much the only person i talk to every day

36. Favorite soft drink?
La Croix

37. Favorite restaurant?
I don't know. I don't really have favorites. I change my mind.

38. Real hair color?
Saltier and saltier salt and pepper

39. What was your favorite toy as a child?
my sister's toy

40. Summer or winter?
well, it depends on the locale. in the southeastern US, I like winter.

41. Hugs or kisses
no thank you, unless you're my husband, in which case, both, please.

42. Chocolate or Vanilla?
dark chocolate...these questions don't really allow for my fickle personality.

43. Coffee or tea?
coffee

[stupid]

45. When was the last time you cried?
At a la leche league meeting as I told the group that I don't enjoy leaving my baby at daycare.

46. What is under your bed?
clothes in plastic boxes

47. What did you do last night?
fed baby, watched tv, fed baby, watched tv, bathed baby, fed baby, went to bed

48. What are you afraid of?
losing people I love

49. Salty or sweet?
See!?! What is this!?! Both. I like both.

50. How many keys on your key ring?
I have two key rings. My work one has five. My home one has...maybe also 5.

51. How many years at your current job?
one

52. Favorite day of the week?
Saturday

53. How many towns have you lived in?
6 in the 18 years before I graduated from high school. 2 in the 15 years after that (one of which I lived in for only 4 months).

54. Do you make friends easily?
yes...but I don't always like them..is that okay to say?

[more stupid questions]

Softy

2010-03-13T09:46:00.000-08:00

I have said before that I don't really buy the idea of baby-directed parenting. I guess I believe that parents know things that babies don't know about what is best for a baby. They need to eat before they're so hungry they cry, they need to sleep before they're so tired they fall asleep, etc. So, I've felt a little bit like a hard-ass when compared to my more attachment-style parent friends. I sort of keep my voice down and try not to comment when people talk about "feeding on demand" and letting the baby "take the lead." I have a consultant, you see. She came to my house when the baby was three weeks old and showed me how to clip his fingernails, bathe him, take his temperature, etc. And, she advises me via email on how to keep his schedule updated with his development and how to treat his minor medical conditions like cradle cap and spitting up. She also helped me diagnose his acid reflux, along with his doctor. Now, all that said, I have found my divergent point from the routine-focused parents.

It seems that the latter parents, those who don't let the baby "take the lead," have a tendency to buy into a one-size-fits-all philosophy. At 8 weeks, babies should sleep through the night. At bedtime, they need to take a bath, have a bottle from their daddies, read a book, and go to sleep. They should eat every 2.5-3 hours when little and 3.5-4 when bigger. I enjoyed these rules when the baby was little. He was hard to read and I couldn't tell what he wanted so the rules made me feel like he was taken care of, whether or not he was completely glee-ful. Now, I'm getting a little soft. I feel like I can make decisions based on Milo's specific needs and personality. He sleeps well. He wakes up at 4am and wants to be fed, but, frankly, I miss him and want to see him at 4am so I don't mind. I don't want to push him to stay asleep yet. Also, his skin is really dry and he goes to sleep pretty easily so I'm considering dropping the bath a few days a week. Finally, he doesn't seem to be hungry outside of his scheduled eating times very often, but, when he is, I feed him. Another funny thing about the difference between me and my consultant presented itself recently when Milo boycotted his bottle, five days before he needed to start daycare. I asked a few different people what to do. I don't want to criticize, because I asked. I'll just say that I feel differently than my consultant on this issue. I explained to her that, when Milo screamed and turned all red and angry (totally out of character), I caved and breastfed him. She explained to me that, "If you cave he will know 'I can scream, throw a fit and get the breast'." I just think he's too little to know this sort of cause and effect. I think he's unhappy for some reason and that I can give him some room and wait for him to feel better. For the record, he took his bottle the following night without a fuss. I don't know why he spent two nights rebelling but I don't really care.

Here is a very uneventful video of him bouncing himself/his toys in his bouncy chair. I, of course, find it to be the cutest thing in the world. You, maybe, will find that it looks like a baby in a bouncy chair. You should know that he just figured out that he can bounce himself. Also, there's no sound, but when he moves his mouth, he's making an adorable coo.

Revenge...or affection...hard to say

2010-02-19T15:24:00.000-08:00

The event I've attempted to capture in this photo is Wyatt rubbing his teeth against Milo's foot and Milo kicking Wyatt in the neck. Milo can't meaningfully control his body yet but I suspect he noticed the tooth-rubbing.

Dear 30 Rock, I love you. Sincerely, Sara

2010-02-12T15:34:00.000-08:00

To evade commercials, I purchased 30 rock on DVD. I love this freaking show so much that I would consider dedicating an entire blog to it. I could maybe do a love poem to each character, one per day. Alternatively, I could list quotes I love from each character. I can't really pick a favorite character because I love them so but, currently, it's a toss-up between Kenneth and Tracy. I know that's cliche. Those are probably everyone's favorites. Plus, I really do love them all. Anyway, I'm going to start my ode to 30 rock with a few quotes I've picked up.

The show had me totally addicted as soon as Tracy Jordan did a Bill Cosby impersonation wherein he said, with no inflection, "I'm Bill Cosby. Jell-o. Sweaters."

I think that what Kenneth has just said in this photo is something like, "I'll never finish this bikini by Nana's birthday." That's not a direct quote. On the other hand, I looked up this quote by Tracy: "stop eatin' people's old french fries, pigeon. have some self respect. don't you know you can fly?"

Anyway, those are softballs. Kenneth and Tracy constantly say hillarious stuff. Jack Donaghy is always funny (e.g., in conjunction with Tracy, the mind grapes thing is hillarious) but gets funnier with time.

For example, in season 2, Jack orders a "white rum with diet coke and a twist of lime"...the bar tender says, "here's your Nancy Drew," and Jack says: "for men it's called a Hardy Boy."

Phew, that's all I have for now...there may be more later.

Commercials

2010-02-06T11:03:00.000-08:00

Commercials are actually a big part of the superbowl so I think this post is timely. The above commercial is apparently from 2008. I find it funny but I don't remember having seen it. Current commercials I like include the Scott toilet paper commercial with the whispering, particularly the part where the person gets a surprise party and everyone whispers, "Surprise" and blow party blowers without any "honk." Also, I like the verizon one where the guys are sitting around watching sports on TV and the guy's map is blocking the screen. Commercials I hate include any Geico caveman commercial and any of that stupid free credit report dot com band (particularly the newer ones but, really, all of them. I hate how he bites his lip and jams with his head).

What I really don't like about commercials is how many of them there are. I'm beginning to really resent the reality that TV is really just a vehicle for delivering commercials. This comes from days at home with the TV on. It's obscene how many commercials I see in a 24 hour period. I like to watch the Today show and also Ellen Degeneres but there's not much show there. It's just one commercial after another, particularly when you consider product discussions on the shows and give aways and Haiti donations from big corporations. I think, for a while, I may try to watch PBS exclusively. Or, maybe DVDs.

Open up and look around

2010-01-30T14:10:00.000-08:00

Milo is really looking around and, this week, has started to smile. He enjoys smiling at his daddy, his papa (my dad), and the monkey on his play gym...you'll perhaps notice the same glaring omission that I have. I guess that he just sees me all the time, no big deal, nothing to get excited about. Oh well, that's the fate of the mother. All business, no good times. Sigh.

Infants, reflux, zantac, and haters

2010-01-24T13:31:00.000-08:00

Kevin and I noticed early on that people are judge-y and opinionated about their parental philosophies. I think worse than politics. You almost just can not say what you think if you aren't sure what another person thinks. People get really really personal and nasty towards their opponents.

On the one hand, the attachment parents, promoted by Dr. Sears and others. These parents believe that birth traumatizes people and that what babies really need is to be returned to the womb. Thus, your best approach is to attach the baby to yourself, never leaving it alone for a moment, and feeding it every time it cries (as if there are no other reasons to cry). People expect me to be associated with this philosophy because I did hypnobirthing and I believe strongly in avoiding c-sections when possible and breastfeeding when possible.

I have two problems with this philosophy: (1) Children have to, ultimately, be introduced into the world. If not now, when? If not you, who? Otherwise, you end up breastfeeding your teenager. This is why La Leche League ladies often bust out the boob as a congratulatory treat for kindergarten graduations. (2) I hate to be an asshole, but I need a little alone time. I don't want my baby sitting with me on the toilet and I don't want to switch to baths so that he can be with me when I bathe. I also don't think the baby enjoys everything I do. He's little. He needs naps. He doesn't need to go to bars and parties and fancy restaurants. The good thing about not being pregnant anymore is that I can share him. Also, he can take advantage of baby-specific tools like cribs and car seats and I can look at my feet, break into a jog, and pull my knees into my chest occasionally. Oh, and, the other thing about attachment parents is that they sleep with their babies in a "family bed." The american pediatric people have stated that this is not safe, but, even if they hadn't, um, how long is this sort of thing going to last? When is the best time to break the news to your little butter lumpkin that he/she needs to give you and daddy a little time...how do these people have more than one child!?!

Now, the other end of the spectrum is Babywise. Essentially, according to this philosophy, you decide on a reasonable schedule for your baby and then you implement the schedule, feeding him when you decide he should be hungry, putting him into his crib when you decide he should be sleeping. You carry out this schedule and, when the baby cries, you let him cry. The philosophy is based on the idea that what babies need most in life is sleep and, further, that the best way for them to sleep is for you to (feed them, then play with them, then put them down to sleep for two hours) four times a day, followed by 12 hours of uninterrupted nighttime sleep. My problems with this approach are also twofold: (1) Babies are not all the same. They need different things. Further, days are not all the same. A single baby needs different things on different days. The best way to serve a baby is not to just soldier through your agenda and let him suck it up. (2) Life happens. Babies have to go to the pediatrician, visit family, and go for walks. Perhaps just as importantly, mommies need to go to the store, care for other children, and, yes, go to parks and festivals. Those things don't always happen in 1-2 hour blocks and within minutes of the crib.

Now, the thing I've noticed is that both camps like to say they have the happier babies. Also, in my experience, the cartoon above is less representative than attacks in the other direction. Attachment parents really believe that the "cry it out" methods for sleep training are torturous. They like to say that they let babies "take the lead" on sleeping and eating and this sort of thing. I guess that I would agree with them if babies had read-outs on their heads telling me what they want. I'm really not crazy about letting my baby cry. I don't actually do that. On the other hand, I've noticed that sometimes I don't have any choice. Sometimes the baby cries. He cries if I pick him up, he cries if I put him down, he cries if I jiggle him or swing him or whatever. It's not a matter of my "leaving him to cry." He just IS crying. I've noticed that this happens to attachment parents also. What I like about not always feeding him when he cries is that I have more than one soothing tool in my arsenal and it also means that my husband can help me and he doesn't just hand me the baby whenever he starts to cry.

The actual issue I'd like to discuss is related to this inconsolable crying. In recent days, the inconsolable crying was becoming more and more frequent. I also noticed that my baby did a lot of spitting up and that the spitting up made him cry. He was getting to the place that he didn't have any awake/alert time. I just fed him, jiggled him while he cried, and hoped he slept for a while, jiggling him and rocking him and carrying him around while he cried. The sad thing was that he would have droopy, sleepy eyelids and would look about to fall asleep when, "POW," like a snake bit him, he would scream and cry. The good news is that his nights stayed reasonable (thank the Lord). Anyway, lots of reading, a call to my pediatrician, and a brief consult with a pediatric nurse convinced me that my baby was suffering from acid reflux. A visit to my pediatrician got her confirmation of my assessment along with a prescription for zantac. Apparently it's hard to tell the difference between reflux and gas at this age so you just have to use the process of elimination with the acid reducer. Phew, we're just a couple of days in and things are really improving, getting back to the way things were when he was littler and more alert/awake/happy. This method is combined with some serious time spent sitting up. He sits in his chair, gets propped up for tummy time, and goes for car trips and walks, sleeping upright for a nap or two.

Here's the thing that starts to make me angry. Check out the opinion of the natural people. Here's Dr. Greene, for example:

Dr. Greeene's opinion

Foods in mother’s diet can also affect breastfeeding babies. Cow’s milk is the most common cause of this, but other foods such as soy, egg, and peanuts could also be a problem. For most babies, I prefer briefly trying to feed the baby without these exposures to see if this solves the reflux problem before trying any medication. I suspect that tobacco, coffee, and caffeine in breastmilk and secondhand smoke in the air also worsen reflux in babies, but I have not seen proof of this.

Why, oh, why is it more reasonable to let my baby cry in this case than in the case of a fussy baby who needs some quiet time in his crib to calm down? Also, why is my life so completely disposable? I should give up dairy, caffeine, eggs, nuts, chocolate, and corn on the off-chance that one of them may be related to the reflux when there is medicine that is approved by the FDA to treat the condition? My understanding, based on conversations with other mothers, is that these food things are bollocks anyway. It's just a way of torturing mothers and blaming them for things, making sure that they don't go around thinking they still have lives of their own.

Dr. Sears is not as bad as I feared, actually. He does seem to just suggest that his parenting philosophy keeps babies from having reflux but whatever.

I love my baby. I want him to be happy. It breaks my heart for him to cry and arch his back and make the "yuk" face after eating. Why can't I treat him? Why do these people want my life to be so hard? Why do I have to be tortured to prove that I care about my baby? I guess the problem has to do with how personal it all is. There is nothing worse than being told you're a bad parent. It's the worst thing you can tell someone. I would say that it's even worse than being told you're a bad scientist.

What's a girl to do?

2010-01-20T08:55:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to work these photos into a narrative. The main thing I can think to say is that I'm looking forward to a new normal. For now, things are 100% la-la land. I am in charge. I am the adult. There is a baby, and it is my responsibility to shape his life. If I don't get off my ass, he will be abandoned and alone. It's all very new. It's not hard per se, but, yet, it seems utterly impossible sometimes. So, anyway, here are three photos in which you can observe the innocent cargo with which I've been entrusted:

Now, I think this one is me, having given him his first bath, which terrified me.

And, here is Kevin, who doesn't have to attempt a bath until he feels more confident about it. Not fair...but true.

The nursery--tah dah!

2009-11-15T13:07:00.001-08:00

We have ordered window shades and we will ultimately purchase a rainbow colored rug. It's not a huge room but it works.

And, for those sadistic out-of-town friends dying to know how huge I am, here's me:

Why sexism hurts men

2009-11-06T13:15:00.000-08:00

Women students take lead roles at Ga. Tech That's a headline from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution from November 4.

I just "googled" my blog title to see if I could take the easy route and link some other blog. What I got is that: "men aren't allowed to cry" and "feminists rob men of their roles in the family" business which, while possibly well founded, is not what I'm talking about. What I mean might be described more clearly with the phrase, "Why discrimination against women hurts men" or "The importance of diversity for men."

I bring this up b/c of the quote in the ajc article regarding our illustrious president, Bud Peterson:

Peterson said it’s crucial for women to succeed. He recalled an activity a few years ago when the car company Saturn asked students to suggest improvements. Some women suggested a compartment on the back of the passenger seat with a hook to hang purses and other items. Handbags slide around and the contents empty out if the car suddenly stops, the women explained.

Sigh. This stupid little anecdote has been told by Bud before and it's offensive. You may have some other suggestions but I think the reason it's offensive is because women have been reduced to a ridiculous gender stereotype. We are valuable to industry because we install make-up mirrors on the insides of laptops...actually, I couldn't even come up with something more ridiculous that Bud's example. It's especially ridiculous because of this previous paragraph, written by the article's author, Laura Diamond:

National studies show the relatively new area of bioengineering has been popular with women. The field encompasses engineering applied to living things and has been used with ultrasounds and artificial knees and hips.

Ultrasounds, Bud, and artificial knees, you sexist jerk...[muttering]purse hooks, for crying out loud...

So, now I come to the subject of my post, an issue that my advisor and I discussed briefly this morning in the hallway:

Reasons that sexism (against women) hurts men:

1. Many of the world's smartest people (about half) are women. If we leave these particular smart people out of the workforce or force them into positions where they aren't allowed to think or contribute, the society as a whole (including the men) lose out on progress. The structure of DNA would not have been solved by men alone, for example.

2. Spending all of one's time thinking about one's own perspective, and having that perspective echoed back to you by the people around you, is not good for people. It makes them over-confident and boar-ish.

3. It must be exhausting to be constantly handing out favors to those beneath you. Wake up and realize that that's not what you're doing. By surrounding yourself with women in the workplace who could kick the crap out of you academically and in terms of hard work, you may start to feel less resentful of affirmative action...if you could ever actually admit to yourself that that woman just kicked the crap out of you...probably you think it's b/c of that extra year they gave her to get tenure...

Okay, so I've clearly dissolved into frustrated finger-pointing. If you, my friends, have any other suggestions for how (a) Bud Peterson could better describe the importance of diversity at GT or, (b) Men suffer from sexism (against women), let me know.

Milo = large jicama

2009-11-04T05:57:00.001-08:00

This comparison between babies and produce makes me laugh. I like it, overall. Especially when he was just a tiny little blueberry-sized guy. I'm not sure I need as much help in imagining 3 3/4 lbs and, even if I did, I'm not super familiar with jicama. I do have 3 lb weights at my house, having participated as much as most people have in the at-home fitness video movement. At 36 weeks he will be the size of a Crenshaw melon, which does me no good b/c I've never even heard of that. Anyway, the thought of Milo as a jicama is a little bit cute.

He's very elbow-y and pokey but less turn over-y than he used to be, which is apparently b/c he's getting so big in comparison to his space. I like it when I can feel a little elbow or whatever on the outside of the belly. He used to sort of lean against one wall or the other and Kevin and I would spend time poking around until we found him (i.e., found a solid part of the belly), but now he's pretty much close to the surface all the time and all over. The only difference is when he pokes out a foot or whatever, which you can see/feel as a solid bump or asymmetry (for those of you who haven't actually had this experience before). The belly button is still hangin' in as an "inny" but it's really being pushed to its limit. Also, a lot of it is now on the outside, as it has become very shallow, and that skin is all soft and hairless, having been indoors for 32 years. Anyway, I have pretty much avoided baby talk up until now but it's pretty much the topic of conversation these days.

Better pictures of my cats

2009-11-02T07:26:00.000-08:00

I think that these postures do a fairly good job of illustrating their natures, particularly if you consider how close I had to stand to take the pictures.

Here, Chloe is getting ready to bolt b/c I've been standing so close for so long (approx. 10-12 feet away for about a minute).

Wyatt, on the other hand, is only still curled by himself and not actually sitting on me b/c he's asleep and doesn't realize I've gotten up.

Check out my limnology pumpkin!

2009-10-30T13:41:00.001-07:00

It's a Chaoborus about to eat a Daphnia. I'm so happy.

Near escape

2009-10-29T11:14:00.000-07:00

I have two indoor cats who don't like car trips or schedule upsets or change of any kind. Their names are Wyatt and Chloe. This photo of me and Wyatt, the friendly cat, is the only cat photo I have on this computer so it will have to do even though you'll have to imagine the other cat, Chloe, who is smaller, shy, and calico. You would have to imagine her meow anyway, which is very tiny and high-pitched. She spends her days hiding under things and running away.

I came home from orchestra rehearsal yesterday at about 8:30pm. It was dark and I was on the phone with my dad. The front light was not on and I was carrying a lot of stuff. So, in I bustle, with a vague realization that the door was open and I couldn't see anything in the dark. I put down my things and proceeded into my bedroom, shutting the door, so that I could finish talking to my dad. Time passed... I finished my conversation about a half hour later and came out into the kitchen to fix myself some good old PB&J and to unload the dishwasher, etc.

As I'm eating, I notice Chloe sitting in the doorway. She's very shy and doesn't usually like to visit so I'm a little surprised but I chat with her. She meows and sort of shuffles back and forth a little. She stays there staring at me so long that I decide she must need something so I go over to where she is and follow her into her room where she runs under the bed and I notice that she may sort of need water so I fill her bowl. While I'm filling, she follows me back into the kitchen. If she were a child, she would be doing a sort of impatient potty dance. If she were a grown-up, she would be clearing her throat. At this point, Chloe and I have spent more time together than in the typical week and I'm starting to worry. Suddenly, I realize the missing piece. Wyatt, my usually very needy/whiny/vocal cat is uncharacteristically absent. So, I call him, which usually illicits an immediate response. No Wyatt. Now I think he might be sick so I start looking under beds. This is when it hits me that I came into the house in the dark, with lots of stuff, and left the door open for a while. Wyatt has been in escapee mode lately and I realize, "Disaster! I have lost my cat to the great outdoors!" So, I go rushing to the front door and open it, look around, and then call Wyatt, "Wyatt!" Immediately, the sad and distressed Wyatt comes rushing up the front stairs in crouchy, near-the-ground, panic posture. This is the posture he uses when children come into my house. He was released! He had been out there for maybe an hour at this point! He was traumatized. I have no idea where he was but his nose was dirty. Possibly under the front stairs? I can only imagine that he'd decided that he'd been abandoned and was going to have to learn to fend for himself in the wilds. This was particularly accentuated by the fact that, when he finally gained re-admittance, he ran immediately to his food bowl and started snarfing food. He'd decided that he'd been left for dead! He didn't talk to me at all for the rest of the night. He didn't even yell at me. He just sulked. It was very sad. This morning we had a chat and he explained to me that I'd hurt his feelings...but only after Kevin forced him to get up and talk to me (he was not boycotting Kevin). Anyway, I'm glad he's back and I'm glad he's not the sort of cat to run away. I suspect that he's now regaling Chloe with tales of the outside. She won't be impressed. She lived outside for months before she came to live with us. I should have pointed that out to Wyatt...

The fun theory

2009-10-15T07:55:00.000-07:00

Here's something to renew your faith in the human species.

What's charming about this movie to me is the way so many people are willing to enjoy themselves during the course of what's probably just an ordinary day. I mean, that's the obvious conclusion but I guess I imagine that the jerkholes around me in crowds are not the good-time fun sort of person that I am. So, I think the piano stairs would not only be good times for me but it would make me like people more, if this were happening on my commute. I like the man who takes his dogs up the stairs. They probably aren't allowed on the escalator but I would imagine that their reaction to the musical stairs would be funny. I also like the people who sort of go up and down. You can imagine trying to play a song and then realizing it would be too hard. Chopsticks would require multiple people for sure. And heart and soul--I don't think there are enough keys.

On the other hand, based on my experience at Ikea, things that are fun and cool for families in Sweden often get decimated and f-ed up by American families. We can't maybe be trusted in the same way. Or maybe the Swedish Ikea has a lot of broken stuff also but they have higher paid employees who care enough to clean up the mess. Either way, I've noticed that a lot of the perks and entertainment items from early in Ikea's time here are now gone...having spent several months sort of sad and broken. I sure wish I had some delicious meatballs right about now.

Okay, fine, maybe later.

2009-09-15T10:07:00.000-07:00

Now that I've waited this long, I'm saving the nursery blog for after the curtains are up and the rug is purchased. Buys me time.

Instead, I would like to share with you one of the most hilarious things I've seen recently, which is timely for me. I currently pee 3-4 times per night and every time I remind myself that this is actually really great and peaceful compared to what's to come since peeing just takes a minute and feeding a baby takes 30 minutes. Alternatively, sometimes I can't get back to sleep after peeing. Still I think it's probably more restful to lie there trying to sleep than it is to be feeding a baby. But, who knows. The point is, this NYTimes piece is hilarious.

Soon, very soon, nursery photos...for now, sisters...

2009-09-08T07:11:00.000-07:00

Having gotten the nursery painted (white), Kevin and I assembled the crib and started diverting all our baby stuff into the room. Next, my dear friend and I visited Ikea to get the decorating started. It's all very charming, but I don't have photos to post yet so you'll have to wait.

In the mean time, I'm trying to come up with something else to post so that my angry political post can move down the line. Based on npr this morning and the person who is maybe the person second most interested in my nursery (...maybe third), I will talk about sisterhood. Anyway, our nursery theme was her idea.

The author of the npr book asserts that, "In some ways, siblings and especially sisters are more influential in your childhood than your parents." This was certainly true for me. I don't have any photos from my childhood, but, trust me when I say that most of them were taken with my sister. That's true for most people with siblings, I suspect. I think my parents did an excellent job with parenting so I don't think there's any way around it but, when I think of the major familial influences on my personality, my sister does feature somewhat more prominently than my parents.

I think that having an older sister may make the effect more profound since she was there from the day I was born. In addition, her opinion was super important to me and my opinion didn't become important to her until somewhat later. She played a major role, consciously and unconsciously, in helping me to decide on things like what to wear and whether or not I was attractive (conclusion: not when compared to her). She was popular and pretty and always had a boyfriend, so, really, who better to ask. Anyway, as I get older, I still process what these things mean for me now. I point now toward an article in the new york times on birth order. Apparently it's not as important as we think but I fit so well into the laid-back, funny, and adaptable second child role. Plus, Time magazine points out how consistent birth order stereotypes have been historically. Man, it would have sucked to be the younger sibling of a president!

Healthcare schmealthcare

2009-08-28T05:30:00.001-07:00

nataliedee.com

I couldn't find a comic or anything to express my opinions on the healthcare debate and then I realized that this is the closest one. I find that I can't have a civil conversation because it's another one of those situations where no one makes sense to me. It's like they're speaking another language, I disagree with them so profoundly. I'm paralyzed. The things I heard on npr this morning just made matters worse. Apparently 54% of Americans approve of Obama's energy policies and, they didn't give a percentage, but, far fewer are on board with healthcare. Do you want to know why I think that is? Because he's been asking them. I think the town hall meetings are a mistake. Pearls before swine. Not because the healthcare plan is pearls, per se, but because the American people don't have anything intelligent to contribute. They say things like, "I don't want government-run healthcare and don't you dare touch medicare." and "I was bankrupt and using foodstamps and living on welfare and no one helped ME out." We're a nation of idiots. I think that what we need to do is quickly improve the educational system before we re-introduce town hall meetings. I think that the reason so many people approve of the energy policy is because it's not been paraded around for bozos to criticize with their half-baked opinions and bullshit points of view. Take me for example, I'm not too crazy about nuclear power. It's dirty and nasty and needs to be a last resort. Lots of people feel that way. Ask us about Obama's energy policy, however, and we're like, "Sure, whatev [finger 'w']" So, as you can see, I'm not leaving liberals out of this, nor am I omitting myself. What I'm saying is that Obama has a nasty habit of worrying too much about consensus. Fuck consensus. You don't need it. Doesn't he have all the votes he needs? They're all out to get you. Just fucking pass a bill and forget about it. Here's where I love Barney Frank. It's a different issue but it makes me happy. Jon Stewart showed this clip recently (you can skip to 1:19):

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart

Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c

Barney Frank's Town Hall Snaps

www.thedailyshow.com

Daily Show
Full Episodes

Political Humor

Healthcare Protests

Teeheehee. Love him. Anyway, all this in the face of the death of the senate's best consensus builder...well...I do understand the importance of consensus, I guess. If only everyone were trying!

Vomit, a nice post about my husband.

2009-08-24T07:45:00.001-07:00

I think that maybe people don't like to hear wonderful touching things that other people feel about their spouses because it sounds like bragging. Alternatively, it makes people feel like you've shared private information. Unfortunately, it is totally socially fine to complain about the poor souls and, because of that, I'm constantly concerned that people get the wrong idea at the small scale, about Kevin and, at the large scale, about marriage. I just watched Julie and Julia last week and my favorite thing about it was the relationship between Julia Child and her husband. I felt like it was a really good portrayal of married love and it made me happy. Because, it's different, right? So, you get a lot of "love stories" in the media/movies/etc. and there's all this drama and big feelings and dramatic crescendos and then there's the cultural idea that it ends after a little while and you just suck it up and get used to the absence of romance. And I perpetuate that notion a little bit because it is really different. You lose a lot of the feeling of putting on a fancy dress to see if you can impress someone or the feelings of surprise or nerves (these things vary, based on the couple). What I'm really excited about now is how much new and exciting stuff you get, which is hard to quantify or explain or put into a movie. I think I've done this before but I'm going to attempt to make a list of things that can be features in a happy marriage (that are features of mine):

(1) You have, for perhaps the first time for some people, someone who generally thinks that you're a good person who tries hard to do the right thing. You can be a big asshole or act badly and feel like everyone hates you, but, as long as the victim isn't the poor spouse, he/she will maybe give you an opinion about what you've done, but, ultimately know that you shouldn't be judged too harshly.

(2) He/she, for the most part, takes care of you when you're unpleasant. Take this from a pregnant person. I am stinky and cranky and hate-filled. Also, demanding and not much help (e.g., with yard-work and carrying furniture).

(3) It's not that there isn't a fluttery sense of how much I love him, there is, it's just that it feels different, maybe bigger and more profound, when it's not new and it's missing the sense that you could lose him at any moment. This feeling does get especially profound if I hear a story about someone losing his/her spouse. It makes a person want to rush home and engulf him/her to be sure he/she is safe. Sometimes it happens to Kevin and it's a nice feeling from either end.

Anyway, the moral of the story is that I firmly believe that marriage is worthwhile. I'm re-iterating that sentiment because I think it's important, if sappy. Now I'm going to go back to my previous post to see if I'm repeating myself...sort of...you can decide for yourself.

Is it my age or have I become dowdy?

2009-08-21T07:25:00.000-07:00

I mentioned on facebook previously that I got yelled at for talking during movie previews recently. This hasn't happened to me all that frequently but one reason it didn't surprise me is that I have, overall, come to a place where strangers aren't all that nice to me. I have three theories:

1. It's because I appear old, due to my gray hair, un-hip clothing, or, possibly, my age.

2. It's started since I have been pregnant, in which case there are three sub-theories: (a) It's because I appear fat, (b) It's because I'm surly and grumpy, and (c) I am just more sensitive

3. I'm moving around with a different group of people as I get older and start working the 9-5 hours and going to early, uptight movies like the 7:30 Sunday showing of Julie and Julia.

Overall, the situation is distressing and disappointing. I thought that I didn't mind being female because people were, overall, somewhat nicer to me (externally). However, I am beginning to think that this is only true for young and sort of stylish-ly dressed and non-fat females. This morning, I decided, after I'd already opened my driver-side door, to file my nails before going to my office. The parking deck wasn't crowded and there was no one parked either in the space on my passenger side or in the space next to the space on my driver side. Still, a bmw screeched into the space next to the space on my driver side and gave me a surly look, presumably for taking up a space with my car door. It's a daily trend at this point. If it's not a surly parking deck patron, it's my fellow drivers, movie-goers, or the students on campus. I seem to have become invisible/annoying overnight. Maybe the city is just in a bad mood. Maybe it's because of the healthcare debate.

Okay, fine, I'll be positive.

2009-08-11T06:58:00.000-07:00

Things I like about pregnancy:

(1) The aforementioned men with babies thing. They're super nice to me. It turns them all squishy and sweet and empathetic as soon as they realize I'm pregnant. They use sweet voices and cock their heads and ask me how I've been feeling. So far, these have all been hardened scientists who typically make people cry about how bad their research is.

(2) I don't have to go to the gym. I go for walks with my friends and people think I'm doing a bang-up job getting plenty of exercise. Thanks everyone, it's really been a challenge ;)

(3) Guilt-free new clothes. If I buy them from a consignment shop, I've actually behaved in a very conscientious way. Something I apparently should not do is purchase lawn care equipment for my husband. He says it's as if he bought me a vacuum cleaner. Fair enough.

(4) I have substituted booze for desert. It's a switch I'm thinking of sticking with, even after the baby comes and I'm allowed booze again. The calories are sort of comparable, depending on how much booze you were going to have. I had a delicious cookie with ice cream and raspberries last night and Kevin drank beers like a sucker.

There, see? Positive. I now get an award for not being a complainer. I'll put it next to the big red "C" I got for yesterday's tirade.

That's right, I said I'm pregnant, would you like to offer me your seat?

2009-08-10T14:48:00.000-07:00

I tried to find an internet image to plug in here and it just made me even more annoyed. My annoyance is something I've just uncovered, having posted on my friend's blog. I'm annoyed about a list of social aspects of pregnancy I've just discovered. I'm going to use list form since I don't have an image and I need to hold your interest:

(1) People are more concerned about my safety than they used to be. I've decided that it's probably because small injuries can result in dramatic repercussions. This is my decision. What I'm having trouble resisting is the idea that this baby's life is more important than my life was, before he/she existed. Alternatively, that I've suddenly become the blameless Madonna, since becoming pregnant, and, hence, don't deserve accident or injury. I've got news for you people, almost all pregnant women got that way from sex. They are the same slutty potty-mouth jerk-faces they were before, although sometimes married and, hence, again, blameless, for some reason.

(2) Related to my search for an internet image: The juxtaposition of pregnancy and sexuality seems to endlessly titillate people, thus, the media is filled with these ridiculously sexual pregnant ladies. Let me tell you one more thing: She just farted. And it smelled terrible. Just so you know. Also, she feels a little like eating an entire pizza but also a little like throwing up. She's exhausted and cranky and probably doesn't have anything nice to say about you or your mother.

(3) I can not handle one more person's reaction to this news. Why is that? Why did I spend my entire childhood imagining what it would be like to be pregnant (that's right, I did) only to feel completely out-of-place, confused, and embarassed by the whole thing? I thought I would be someone glee-fully shouting things out to the world as soon as the stick turned pink and, instead, I want the various friends and loved ones in my life to just magically know, so that I don't have to have the appropriate response to their resounding joy. Do they realize how hard this is going to be? Why so un-abashedly happy? My life is about to change dramatically and, while I'm excited and happy, I'm also terrified...and I'm probably uncomfortably gassy.

Okay, that's done. Phew. I feel somewhat better. I'm happy about all of this, I really am. And I don't want to be labeled as a complainer (since another thing about pregnancy is that #4 people like to rank the women they know in terms of how well they handled the whole thing). I just sort of needed to say some things. Maybe that's why my blog has been so vacant for so long, since this is the only thing I think about...not really...that's item #5 that annoys me about the social understanding of pregnancy.

Disgusting, semi-painful, and totally effective

2009-06-16T05:39:00.000-07:00

The only thing more fantastic than the neti pot itself is this awesome photo of it I found on wikipedia. Hillarious man using neti pot. I'd just like to say that I have had a sinus headache for approximately 3 weeks due to some nasty form of rhinitis (many possible causes). Last night, I poured saltwater into my nose, then blew it all over my kitchen, and then, magically [twinkling sound], the headache, she was finished. All hail king neti pot. I utilized it again this morning because I was told to use it daily and let me just say that this is a testimony to (1) how terrible a 3 week sinus headache is and (2) how completely healed I was, because pouring saltwater into my nose is up there in the top 10 things I dislike. It's very much like unexpectedly getting hit in the face with a giant wave at the beach.

While I'm blogging, I'd like to say one more thing: I absolutely, positively, hate HATE the 80 bajillion circumstances in the life of a PhD student/PostDoc in which one receives completely crappy instructions on an issue (e.g., "What do I do with my ethidium bromide waste?" Answer: "Email so-and-so to come pick it up.") followed by the select so-and-so bawling you out for doing it wrong (e.g., "Ethidium bromide is a chemical hazard, not a biohazard, you have placed it in the wrong bag! In addition, you must provide me with a contact number and, furthermore, you're an idiot!") This sort of scenario seems to happen over and over again. If it's not chemical waste, it's chemical inventory. If it's not chemical inventory, it's p-card statements. If it's not p-card statements, it's my stupid parking permit or some other ridiculous red tape bs item...argh! I guess this is the pay-back for being able to show up whenever I want and not having to wear pantyhose.

Patellar tracking disorder

2009-05-19T13:26:00.000-07:00

Sigh, and alas. I have been doing physical therapy now for about two weeks, for my knees, which hurt every time I get going in an exercise program. Turns out I have patellar tracking disorder, which may or may not be reparable. There are several things that I really hate about this diagnosis (no particular order):

(1) They suggest that I lose weight. This is annoying on two different levels. There's the obvious, not liking to be told to lose weight, and the secondarily annoying, which is that you are supposed to simultaneously stop whatever exercise made the knee start hurting.

(2) They suggest that I build up my quads, which annoys me, because my quads are already stronger than most people's (I can backsquat more than a lot of the women at my gym who are otherwise much bigger bad-asses than I am).

(3) They explain to me that this is often a hereditary misalignment thing, particularly since there was no trauma, and the various solutions may or may not work.

Anyway, the physical therapist is an improvement for two reasons. First of all, my GP just told me to take 2 aleve 2x a day...for the rest of my life, presumably? And, secondly, my GP described patellar chondromalacia, which is more of a symptom than a diagnosis. Oh, one more reason, which is that my GP said that the only alternative to the massive intake of NSAIDs would be surgery...which turns out not to be true...per se...

So, it's good to have a diagnosis. Some of my prescriptions include specific stretches, ice, and the graston technique (pictured above), which hurts. What's fun is that, at each session, there is a lot of sort of rough massage-style leg manipulation to determine what sorts of stretches I need to do. I think that part is the classic "physical therapy." I also get chiropractic pelvic adjustments. My very favorite part of the leg manipulations is that, since my quads are involved, I have to wear shorts and shave. Also, since I've watched the various manipulations, I've become increasingly aware of both how jiggly my inner thighs are, and how carefully I need to shave them. I considered telling the physical therapist, last time, about Emily and the German gynecologist, and the taking off of the pants. I decided that he might find it creepy. What he'd likely find more creepy is doing his job in Germany.

Warning! Not for children

2009-05-06T05:07:00.000-07:00

So, a couple of weeks ago, I went to a book signing of Street Gang: the Complete History of Sesame Street. One of the stories I find myself telling over and over again is this: Apparently, if you buy a DVD of the first two seasons of Sesame Street, it comes with a warning label. According to Michael Davis, author of the Street Gang book, the scene below is one of the reasons for the label:

Other offenses include (1) a little girl sliding down a slide such that you can see her underpants, (2) as the nytimes article indicates, the "monsterpiece theatre" parody in which Alistair Cookie holds a pipe, and (3) a series of political activists appearing on the show (like Buffy there). What really makes me feel sad about this situation is the reality that we have done so much social backsliding since the '70s. Progress was made and then immediately snatched from our hands. There was also a lot of kidnapping/child molestation fear in the 80s, which is what made Snuffleupagus become real. They didn't want kids to think about a situation where they were trying to get adults to believe them and the adults couldn't see what was happening, which makes sense.

Anyway, the booksigning wasn't all depressing (although Liliana and I both had to hold back tears as the author read the script from the episode where Mr. Hooper died). I stood in line with a guy who has the same uncanny memory that I have and I shocked and embarassed my friends by breaking out into the following song with this strange man:

Hehehe, I forgot about Andy. Man, I loved that show. The stranger and I sang this song in response to the (false) rumor that Cookie Monster is going to be changed into "Veggie" Monster. We were remembering that there is already a veggie character. Apparently now Cookie Monster states that cookies are a "sometimes food." Fair enough. But, as the wikipedia entry points out, anyone who has watched Cookie Monster knows that he doesn't eat just cookies.

Prairie dog vacuum

2009-04-22T08:08:00.000-07:00

Apparently, a lot of people are familiar with this:

I was not familiar. I am in love with it.

http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qn4182/is_19960912/ai_n10094665/?tag=content;col1

My officemate tells me that prairie dogs are really vocal and that they sort of scream as they're going into the truck. Also, apparently, they're really happy when they find one another inside the truck. Hillarious. I think that Wallace and Gromit did something similar in the Were-rabbit.

Trying to think of something interesting...

2009-04-21T11:07:00.000-07:00

I find that, sometimes, if I just start typing, I come up with something good. We'll see how it goes. I'm learning about fungi and oomycetes (which are not fungi but used to be classified that way until people learned that their hyphae are coenocytic, their cytoplasm is granular (?), and "the apex is devoid of organelles other than numerous secretory vesicles." Geez, how could you overlook that obvious difference? Here's a picture of one that is very closely related to mine:

(http://www.uoguelph.ca/~gbarron/2008/pythiu1.jpg)

There are some good pictures of mine but they're not on this computer. Culturing fungus/oomycetes, it turns out, is only a little bit similar to culturing bacteria. This makes things fun. Culturing plankton is even less like culturing bacteria. Here's something else I've learned: If you want something to be infectious, you have to make it into a spore. If you want to make something into a spore, you need yet another protocol, meaning that, if your organism is new, you have to develop a new protocol. So, it's not just about culturing, kids. Oh, hey, Janet, maybe you know some good references about sporulation in eukaryotes. I'm a little bit unsure. P.S. To be considered a "spore" in a fungus or oomycete, you pretty much have to be nothing except sort of wandering around aimlessly, no requirement for a spore coat or heat resistence or whatever. Furthermore, people who are used to eukaryotes will constantly refer to "spores" in bacterial species. They do not like for you to stop them and point out that, if they're not heat resistant and don't have a spore coat, bacteriologists don't call them spores.

Married to a meat-a-holic

2009-04-13T07:48:00.000-07:00

So, my husband loves to cook giant cuts of meat (see below). I enjoy cooking experiments and I enjoy being the test audience for cooking experiments. I myself made the lemon tart that Kevin mentions below, complete with homemade crust. In fact, this is my second time to make the lemon tart and the first time I stayed up later than I intended because I didn't realize that the dough has to rest for 30 minutes before you roll it out. All of that said, these giant cuts of meat are a problem. I met Kevin at the first annual "Pig Pickin'" so I can't say I didn't know, but being married to someone who enjoys staying up all night poking a thermometer into a hunk of meat can be trying. Take this Easter ham for instance. It's not a cured ham, mind you. As you can see below, it's a big raw hunk of pig. It brined for three days in a giant gatorade cooler in our shower (this was a request of mine...heaven forbid I hadn't asked him to put the cooler in the shower...I don't even want to think...). After that, the grilling and the constant temperature taking. He doesn't do the math for you in his entry so it might be hard for you to realize that this "finishing it up on the counter" occurred at about midnight the night before my big Easter church music thing, for which I had to be up at 6am. Aluminum tenting is loud, just, for future reference. Giant sheets of aluminum foil. Also, barbecued pork smells delicious at noon or 6pm. It does not smell delicious at midnight. Okay, I'm done. In the end, the pork really was delicious. I have some for lunch today, with some leftover squash casserole and broccoli (he forgot to mention the broccoli). The maple dijon glaze is also very good. I might say it was worth it...but I might not...

Kevin's Easter Ham

2009-04-12T13:29:00.000-07:00

Kevin here. This Easter, we decided to do a smoked fresh ham. This particular ham weighed in right at 22lb - a big hunk of meat. The fun started on Thursday evening when I prepped the ham and set it in the brine. As you can see, I left the skin on, scoring a crosshatch pattern across the meat and then setting it in a brine solution in a water cooler with ice, where it would sit until Saturday morning.

Saturday morning, I set my Webber Kettle for an indirect heat and slapped the meat on. I didn't know how long this was going to take. I was shooting for a final temperature of around 160, so I was hoping to get there in 8 hours or so.

After 10 hours, we were still only up to around 135 degrees. So, I had to take matters into my own hands and move the ham inside to the oven - which I had set at 325 degrees.

After another 2.5 hours in the oven, the ham had finally reached 152 degrees. So I pulled it out and let it rest for another hour or so on the counter where it got above 160.

After a night in foil in the fridge, I put it back in the oven at 350 for 1.5 hours with a good bit of maple mustard glaze. Served with pea salad, squash casserole, and a lemon tart - it was perfect.

(Tomorrow, maybe I'll write about how he kept me up all night rattling aluminum foil and taking the ham's temperature. -Sara)

My first youtube movie

2009-04-06T14:12:00.000-07:00

This is the sort of thing I spend my time looking at these days:

It's Asplanchna. They're rotifers. We try to infect them with oomycetes. Fascinating, right? I find them cute but it's hard to see in this movie. There's another one that someone else made...

They actually pretty much suck at catching food so I'm surprised (1) that they survive at all and (2) that this person was able to catch one eating. The food pretty much has to swim into their mouths, or whatever you call their corona hole thing. Here are some Asplanchna fun facts:

Female Asplanchna have no designated hole for receiving the sexual reproductive matter from male Asplanchna, which are small and triangular and don't do anything but fertilize the female Asplanchna. The male pretty much just picks a place on the soft body of the female.

If you try to open up an Asplanchna with a pair of dissecting pins, it's pretty much like trying to dissect a jell-o mold to access the fruit...

Asplanchna do not preserve as well as other zooplankton, probably because they don't have a carapace, so it's good to count them the same day you catch them.

When an Asplanchna runs into a Dapnia or Copepod, it pretty much just sits there and gets its ass kicked with the antennules, resembling a fat kid on a playground. I'm going to try to make a movie of this phenomenon because I find it hillarious.

The lovely side of spring

2009-03-29T14:42:00.000-07:00

I can't tell if it's the rain or the semi-cold weather but my allergies have abated and I've had an opportunity to photograph my yard, as promised. This allowed me to practice my photography also.

I took these pictures of the vegetable garden so that I can make a big deal later about how much it's grown. I realized that "before" pictures were lacking last year.

Next, I'll show off my little window box. Again, I have some notion that it might improve later.

And, a few shots of the blooming stuff:

tulips

blueberry bushes

dogwood

Here's the song--Ned Nostril

2009-03-25T06:15:00.000-07:00

Pollen count--High. Achoo!

2009-03-24T07:46:00.001-07:00

http://www.pollen.com/forecast.asp?zip=30309&affiliateid=8248

So, oak, cedar, and juniper are in the running for the plants/trees I'm allergic to. There's a lot of oak around me so I'm thinking that it's a good bet. I guess that some people are just allergic to "tree pollen" as opposed to "grass pollen." Anyway, my throat is sore and I'm sort of honk-y/snort-y. It reminds me of a Ray Stephens song that was on the same album as the song about the Mississippi squirrel.

The good news is, it's beautiful. Everything is in bloom and looking nice. Slutty trees sluttin' it up. Maybe I'll take some pictures of my yard tonight.

Tough love

2009-03-23T10:49:00.001-07:00

I'm starting my blog with a picture of a tuner because I'm buying one because my oboe teacher got giant scary eyes when I told her I don't have one. I'm not feeling bad about it because she has this same tuner so, you know, it's something people need. Now I'll discuss my weekend. I play oboe in a Baroque ensemble which generally just plays during church on Sundays. The music is generally over my head, which is why I am taking lessons. Several weeks ago, my conductor asked me if I would play 2nd oboe in an afternoon concert, which he conducts each year. I said I would. Then, I started hearing people talk about how they had chosen not to play in the afternoon concert because the music was too hard and there would be only one rehearsal. Shoot. I'd already said 'yes' and didn't feel like I could back out. So, I practiced. A lot. I purchased a recording on iTunes and practiced along to my iPod. I have never worked this hard at my oboe playing in my life. I felt very proud. That's the background.

So, I got in my car Saturday morning at 8:30am to find that it was gas-free, thanks to my loving husband. The rehearsal was at 9 but I didn't have any choice. I got to the church, couldn't find a place to park, parked far away, and then couldn't find an open door...long story short, I was late. Very late. No one else was late. The orchestra was halfway through the first (of ten) movement when I arrived and I COULD NOT get to my seat without disturbing people. So, I put my instrument together, soaked my reed, wandered around the perimeter of the orchestra, and waited for a pause in rehearsal. Awkward. I recognized very few people, this because almost everyone in the orchestra for this particular concert, was a professional. Great. I found a pause, a route, and some courage, and bustled to my seat next to, oh yeah, I forgot to mention, the 1st oboist was MY TEACHER! No pressure.

I actually did make it through rehearsal but it was very tense and I made a couple of mistakes, one which caused the 1st oboist (my teacher) to put out her hand and count out loud to me. Fantastic. So, at the end, everyone just dispersed. I felt like someone should have congratulated me but they didn't. So, I went around apologizing to various people for having been late (the conductor, my teacher, etc.) hoping that this would cause them to point out to me how brave and hard-working I'd been. Nothing. Just a lot of, "Well, you're here now." sort of comments. So, I had lunch with my friend, who is a generation older than I and always makes me feel a little bit like I've misbehaved. I explained to her about my hectic morning and she pointed out to me how I'm frequently late. I explained to her about how I just wanted someone to say, "You're doing fine." and she said, "You're too old to need that sort of affirmation." I mean, honestly, am I? Am I just too old for people to be nice to me and tell me I'm doing a good job? Should I consider this feeling and tell people who are older than I am when they're doing a good job? Because I generally only do this for younger people.

Anyway, concert day arrived and I felt sick all day. I put on my concert black and arrived very early. I was not first but I was something like 3rd to arrive. I got into my seat and did not throw up. My teacher came in and got arranged as well. I brought in two reeds. We tuned and my teacher said, "Flat, pull out." Now, this is tricky because, when you're flat, you push in, so now I'm just confused. The first movement was 15 minutes long with relentless playing and a long pause before the 2nd movement. I was frenzied and tense and so so anxious but I made it through with little incident. At the end, my teacher whispered, "Are you having a good time?" I said, "No, not really." I said, "I'm worried about my pitch." She said, "That's because you're sharp." Shit. Shit. Shit. Now I have to finish the piece but I'm even more nervous than before! I changed reeds and adjusted my instrument and I made it to the end. Not an awesome show but I generally knew where we were and I played most of my notes. I looked at my teacher and said, "I think I fixed the pitch." She confirmed, kindly, that I had fixed my pitch. As I was exhaling, my friend from lunch the day before came and said (as a somewhat sarcastic joke), "You did an excellent job," in reference to my comment the day before. I don't think it's too much to ask! So, then I turned to explain to my teacher what was happening. At this point, she was very nice, explaining how she was busy playing and didn't think about reassuring me but that I had done just fine. Phew. Then she made the face with the big eyes when she recommended that I spend some time with a tuner...and I said that I don't have one... Oh well... So, regarding the "flat, pull out" comment: Apparently, since we were tuning to the organ, what she meant was that the organ was flat and so I should pull out, since that would make me sharp. Crap.

Bottom line: I'm apparently too old for affirmation and reassurance. This depresses me.

Civil Rights and the tenacity of the human spirit.

2009-03-19T07:30:00.000-07:00

Here's something I was thinking about today: It's funny to me how, on some days, I think that I hate everyone and that the creation cannot be redeemed because everyone is selfish and hate-filled. Then, on another day, maybe it's sunny or whatever, and all I can think about is how heart-breakingly wonderful people are. So, this morning, I listened to this story on NPR and started bawling in my car. It's about John Lewis leading a pilgrimage to commemorate the Civil Rights struggle.

Peggy Wallace Kennedy, daughter of George Wallace, said the following:

"'I knew in my heart that their cause was just, but unlike them I did not let my voice be heard. For many years I wandered in the world of indifference, until I heard the voice of Barack Obama. He inspired me to believe in myself and to join with millions of others who laid claim to faith and pride in America.'

And then George Wallace's daughter turned, and with tears in her eyes, embraced Holder. For several moments, the two just held each other."

The story goes on to describe the sermon delivered by Rev. Joseph Lowery, based on Revelations 21: "I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth have passed away."

I mean, I bawled. I sat there in my car and bawled. But, here's the thing, right? The whole pilgrimage is based around how completely shitty people were being in the 1950s. So...what is it I want to say? That a wound needs to be opened before it can heal? Something about yin and yang? Revolution? Full-circle something something? I don't really think it's any of that. I guess what I want to say is that people are completely shitty sometimes but, then, you know? Sometimes they're not. So, maybe, when people seem like utter dickheads, the thing to do is to keep believing that things change. Everything changes. On the other hand, the same could be said about when people are being fantastic...

I always miss snow.

2009-03-02T07:34:00.001-08:00

For some reason I go out of town every time it snows in Atlanta. Fortunately, this time, I got home in time to see the residual snow. My neighborhood has about 4 inches. I should make a photo diary of Southeastern snow-folk the next time it snows. I love their dirty, leafy selves. Actually, in my neighborhood, there was enough snow for some pretty clean snow-folk. There was even enough for some (pretty dirty) snow forts. Seriously, pictures would help a lot but, if you're from the south, you know what I mean. Georgian children really miss out on winter festivities. Thus, they take every opportunity, based on popular culture images, to do the various things children are supposed to do when it snows. The result is a pretty pitiful array of busted noses (from sledding into grass patches) and snow structures that really require more snow than we have.

While I'm discussing my affection for southern snow culture, let me just say that I don't mind that the city shuts down for a tiny bit of snow. "southern snow" is its own phenomenon. It's not the same as what northern people have experienced because of it's rarity. It's special, it makes people happy, it allows us to stay home from work, while still allowing us to go places if we really need to. I mean, have some sympathy. It's all we get. Your various northern towns probably shut down once a year for snow so why be-grudge us. Sure, fine, you would all tough it out if 4 inches of snow were to fall, but that's because it happens a lot. I think that people who are new to Georgia have a hard time realizing that no one wants their yankee rain on our snow parade. No one finds you tough or impressive for hating our snow. You're just a spoil-sport. We love our snow and we want you to enjoy it with us. Think how much nicer it is that the sun is out and it's not freezing cold so you can go out without long-johns and it's going to melt in two days. No time for it to get all slushy and nasty. Also, since we don't have snow plows or ice trucks or whatever, our snow doesn't get all abused and hideous and piled up in the gutters. Add to that the fact that we don't have snow tires and you start to realize that it's not our weakness, but your lack of vision, that makes these conversations what they are. We aren't such terrible drivers. No one drives on ice without special tires or chains or whatever (snow, sure, but when you have freeze/thaw, you have ice). Also, knowing how to drive on ice/snow really just results in knowing how to get your car out of a ditch and I don't want to do that, when there's just the one day out of the year that I have to opt out. So, really, this situation is like every other, more or less. It's all about attitude. Make yourself some hot chocolate and stop making fun of us. As my mother-in-law says to my nephew, "If you act like that, you won't have a good time."

I'm so so old.

2009-02-25T13:32:00.000-08:00

I'm spending a lot of time with undergrads and it's making me feel old and used up. They're all chipper and fresh-faced. I have to work really hard not to point out to them how old they were when I was going to shows or to advise them harshly about their under-achieving boyfriends. I also try not to ask them if we're still wearing Sperry's or if it's still okay to wear boot-cut pants. I have the same student ID photo that I had when I started my PhD and, I swear to you, I don't even look like the same person. I looked like a freaking gelfling and if you know how that movie progresses, you can only imagine who I've cast in the role of the Skeksis. I guess it's really just time but I feel that the life has been sucked out of me. You know what other movie it reminds me of? The Princess Bride. The part where Westley is being tortured by Count Rugen on that machine that takes years away from his life. That or Rip van Winkel. Like I suddenly woke up as an old person. I guess that I'm only 31 and that's not really old but it's definitely adult status. And these other people are 10 years younger. I started my PhD seven years ago, people. The undergrad in my lab is on the Georgia Tech dance team. So, I say to her, "My freshman roommate was a Georgia Tech cheerleader." The undergrad says, "Really? What's her name?" I blink at her and say, "That was in 1995." She got a horrified expression and big eyes and said, "Oooooh....right..." The only things that can cheer me up are the following comics:

nataliedee.com

nataliedee.com

Have you missed me?...hello?...hello-o?

2009-02-25T06:31:00.000-08:00

Okay, so, the chances that anyone is reading my blog or cares that I'm not keeping up with it...not good. I mean, I could just be emailing it straight to Emily (thanks, buddy). But, it's not really polite to send people emails where you just go on and on about some stupid life phenomenon, so, here's my next installment:

I'll start by putting up some comics that made me laugh all afternoon the day that I read them. It was actually sort of an embarassing situation, wherein I was washing dishes in the lab or walking down the hall or whatever, in front of people, when I would just burst out laughing in memory of these comics:

nataliedee.com

nataliedee.com

nataliedee.com

What's funny about these comics is that you scroll scroll scroll, just sort of mildly smiling, when suddenly you get to one that makes you fall out of your chair, it's so funny. And why? What makes it so funny? You show it to an officemate and they sort of smile, chuckle, can't figure out why you're having trouble breathing. What's worse, you burst out laughing while washing dishes so your lab mates want to see what's so funny. You waste everyone's time, logging into the lab computer, opening up Firefox, trying to find the right day ("Hold it, oh, yeah, that one's funny...it must have been in February...look at this one with the bear..."), and then, tah-dah, you find it, burst out laughing again, and the labmates are just standing there. The polite ones pretend to laugh. So, then you attempt to explain, "Look at it, it's squishing her eye...[interrupted by laughing/blowing snot]" Now, at this point, they're laughing, but it's not because of the comic.

I blame myself

2009-01-02T06:12:00.000-08:00

Okay, so it turns out that my husband is not to blame. I had a very appealing New Years Eve invitation and I turned it down. I blame my thesis defense-related anxiety. My husband and I fell asleep on the couch watching football and drinking, what we like to call, "Cran-pagne." You can guess the ingredients. It was delicious.

The good news is we got plenty of rest so that we were all powered up for the day we had yesterday--sitting on the couch and watching home improvement/buying shows on HGTV. Also, I practiced my defense, Kevin went to the grocery store, and I went to Burlington Coat Factory and purchased two suits and some dress shirts for $150. Hooray!

The suits are fully lined and the price tag promises me that they should have retailed for 3x what I paid. PLUS, I got one of the $40 suits for and additional %30 off because the matching pants were missing and the pants associated with the suit were two sizes bigger than the jacket. The good news is, my ass is two sizes larger than my shoulders so, with a little tailoring of the waist, this may be the best possible fitting suit. OH! I also purchased accessories. A lovely "statement necklace" with giant plastic beads, matching bracelets, and a pair of earrings from a recognizable brand name. What was hillarious about the accessories section at Burlington Coat Factory is two-fold:

(1) There was a little girl there begging, and I mean BEGGING her mom for, approximately five separate consecutive items. The phrase, "Please, I'll do ANYTHING!" was actually uttered. Each item was discarded, and a new one chosen, as her mother said, "It doesn't fit on your head, Are you sure that's how you want to spend your money?, What about these headbands?, etc." until, finally, the mother said, "Do you want to go look at Macy's?" and the little girl said, "I want to go home."

(2) There was actually an entire jewelry line with a brand name written in very familiar script but designed by someone named, Christopher Klein.

Now, the final point I'd like to mention, before closing out my blog, is that I essentially watched someone's car get broken into in the parking lot and did, essentially, nothing. I didn't really know what to do. There was a super shifty-eyed man who was sort of sidling up to a car adjacent to mine. And, by sidling, I mean that he was sort of side stepping and looking around and pretending to check his cell phone. It was absurd, really. So, I'm giving him my best evil eye and he doesn't care. He just looks right back at me, clearly thinking the obvious truth, "What are you going to do about it?" I sort of stood there and watched him for a while but he didn't care. He again sort of sidled toward the door, looked all around while picking the lock, and sat down in the drivers seat and began pilfering. So, I drove around, looking for mall security, but I didn't find any, so I drove home. I feel terrible about this. I've had my car broken into several times and I sort of thought that "broad daylight" and "people all around" were inversely correlated to my problems. Clearly these things are irrelevant provided that the "people all around" are completely ineffective. I'm going to spend some time thinking about what I should have done. Maybe I'll put up a poll.

Christmas and New Year's

2008-12-30T09:57:00.000-08:00

I find myself to be not as festive as I might like. Christmas had a lot of the regular things. Gifts, family, food. I'm actually sort of bored, however. I'm beginning to think that this may be why people have children. What else is there to do? The kids are the ones with all the activities, toys, etc. Plus, they get all excited about stuff. I got a camera and I really liked it.

Now, the next challenge is to decide what to do for New Years'. Unfortunately for me, Georgia Tech is playing in a bowl game on New Years' Eve and everyone I know is watching it. I hate football. Not sure what to do about it. Let me know if you have any ideas. It's depressing to think that I'll spend another new year going to bed early.

If you ever wondered whether or not my cat has it better than you...

2008-12-18T17:02:00.000-08:00

Take a look at this day in the sun:

This day on the sofa:

In fact, being hugged by me is maybe the worst part of his day:

I have a Christmas song in my head but otherwise...

2008-12-17T12:27:00.000-08:00

I keep being surprised how late in the month it is because I'm really not experiencing Christmas at all. We have a small aluminum tree with attached lights which we put up on a table near the front window so that it looks, from the street, like we have a regular-sized aluminum tree. I completed my Christmas shopping the weekend after Thanksgiving. Thanks to the crappy economy, it wasn't very crowded. Now I just get up and go to work every day...nothing has changed. This sort of depresses me. Also, it's kind of hot outside. I will continue humming my song. "Ding dong merrily on high!"

...and three more...and two more...

2008-12-05T05:49:00.000-08:00

The title of my blog refers to the mantra chanted by my mother's Jane Fonda workout videos when I was younger. People say that the way diet/exercise are treated in your family growing up informs your lifetime relationship with food and I think my parents did pretty well. I'm not overly obsessed, I don't think, and I'm not unhealthy. We ate well in my house, not much restaurant food, always sitting at the dining room table for dinner. I'm not sure what it takes to be someone who is effortlessly thin. Probably bags of marshmallows are out, but I'm not much of a binger so that doesn't help me.

Not that any of you care much, but, along with the rest of the country, I've gained on the order of 5-7 lbs. in the past few weeks. It's a combination of factors, including: stress associated with turning in my thesis, Thanksgiving, and a wonky knee that is maybe tendonitis (i.e., jumper's knee). I've been enjoying cookies, ice cream, chocolate, etc. as surrogates for rest/relaxation. Also, I've been actually physically resting as a proxy for mental relaxation. The result is that I'm now stressed about weight gain, in addition to my job and the economy.

Fortunately and unfortunately, I already go to the gym kind of a lot. The result of that is that I need to make some other change, such as diet (ew, worst possible change), or adding cardio (ew, running...I'm re-thinking the worst possible change). I decided to try stepping up my swimming game by trying to do 1-minute laps, in order to make swimming more rigorous. My progress so far involves the fact that it rained on the day I had decided to swim and no one wanted to walk to the CRC...so I didn't go. Sigh. This is an eternal battle. I wish it weren't.

Whooping Cranes Arrive in Tennessee!

2008-12-01T07:37:00.001-08:00

I can't believe I didn't post about my whooping crane experience.

So, my Dad lives near a wildlife refuge that is along the fly-way for sandhill cranes.

So, we all went out, the day after Thanksgiving, to see if we could see some sandhill cranes, and the off-chance of maybe seeing a whooping crane. We called Kevin's parents to come too because they've just started birding. They brought Kevin's nephew, Zachary, which was fun.

Here's a picture of when we were totally excited to see a single whooping crane, which is the white dot among all the gray dots in this photo, way off in the background...you have to click on the photo to see it.

Well, so, all these fancy birdwatchers started showing up with fancy scopes and things and, ultimately was saw 8 whooping cranes! Eight in one place. None of birders or anyone had ever seen so many in one place! It was thrilling. Here's a picture of one of the bird watchers with his fancy camera and Zachary, having been given permission to look through the fancy scope:

When Kevin realized how much gear is involved, he thought he might like birding. Also, we do now have Whooping Cranes on our list, and that's a big one.

Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus

2008-12-01T06:08:00.000-08:00

The title of the blog is inspired by Emily's quiz, asking me how I feel about Christmas music. I think the answer is that it depends on my mood but that, for the most part, I like Christmas stuff. My coffee lady has had the stuff out since Halloween and I enjoy it. I don't really mind that it comes early anymore because time moves so fast for me now.

I did almost all of my Christmas shopping this weekend (crowd applauds) and, in the stores, they were playing Christmas carols that stayed in my head long enough for me to get through wrapping the presents in the Christmas spirit. I also proceeded to drag some Christmas stuff up from my dad's basement and put it all over the house (much to my dad's chagrin). My sister will be glad, when she arrives, that there is at least a little bit of Christmas stuff. She apparently put out Thanksgiving stuff last time she was at Dad's so we're decorating for each other. I moved my sister's pumpkin from the front steps to the back yard, changed the harvest wreath she put up for some giant plastic bells, and shook the dust off of the Christmas tree doormat (which has been on the front porch all year). Dad claims indifference toward Christmas decorations but I'd like to point out that he's the person who purchased the giant bells. One year he even got some of those light-up deer for the front yard, which have since broken.

So, bottom line, I like Christmas carols. The Little Drummer Boy came on in the car on the way home and I cried...

The Phantom Tollbooth

2008-11-19T08:10:00.001-08:00

Suddenly, I was reminded of a movie I used to watch, as a kid, called the Phantom Tollbooth. I'm told it's also a book...anyway, fortunately for me, youtube exists so I could remember the many details of this movie I so loved. As I was viewing, I came across this most fantastic-ly applicable section regarding one of the "Demons of Ignorance," the "Terrible Trivium."

This is so so representative of my life as a PhD student that I followed up on the demons of ignorance. Here they are, according to wikipedia:

The Demons of Ignorance

* The Terrible Trivium, a humanoid demon whose face lacks features and who seduces passers-by with mindlessly easy but pointless tasks that take an incredibly long time to accomplish.
* The Demon of Insincerity, a rabbit/kangaroo like demon. Its only purpose is to mislead anything or anybody that comes nearby.
* The Gelatinous Giant, a giant hidden in the mountains of Ignorance.Shaped like a large mountain. Extremely cowardly and especially afraid of ideas.
* The Triple Demons of Compromise, a demonic team of three negotiators; one is short and fat, one is tall and thin, and the third looks "exactly like the other two". They can never truly go anywhere because, rather than reach agreements, they constantly compromise.
* The Horrible Hopping Hindsight, a demon which has its eyes on its rear end. It never sees where it is going, only where it has been, and always thinks that each movement could have been better.
* The Everpresent Wordsnatcher, a monstrous filthy bird who deliberately misinterprets whatever a person says. He has ambitions of being a demon, but is said to be only a nuisance, and is suggested to have previously met the Humbug.
* The Senses Taker, a demon who distracts passers-by by supplying them with illusions of things they would rather be perceiving. His name may be a play on "census taker".
* The Overbearing Know-it-All, a spherical demon with spindly legs. He constantly talks, offering his own incorrect opinions to anyone nearby, and all are in danger of being crushed under him. He is often accompanied by the Gross Exaggeration.
* The Gross Exaggeration, an especially ugly demon, "whose rows of wicked teeth were made only to mangle the truth". A frequent companion of the Know-It-All.
* The Threadbare Excuse, a humanoid demon that clings to anyone who will give him a ride. He is always heard murmuring weak reasons for not doing things, and also has a vice-like grip on anyone who holds him.
* The Gorgons of Hate and Malice, two disgusting slug-like demons that leave oozing trails behind them.
* The ugly Dilemma, a horned demon whose name implies his purpose. He is said to blow clouds of steam from his nostrils.

I need to get this book...I find it sympathetic to my life so far.

To cheer me up!

2008-11-18T11:15:00.000-08:00

I told my facebook friends to help me with music that would cheer me up/keep me awake while I write. I got a lot of good recommendations but this video is the best thing that's ever happened to me:

Tilly & the Wall on SESAME STREET from Team Love on Vimeo.

I love it with my whole heart. It turns out that this band (Tilly and the Wall) actually always does music that has, as the only percussion, the tapdancing.

So, I love that. Also, I want to wear big poofy skirts with crazy-colored tights and tap shoes. If I could do that, I can't imagine ever having any unhappiness in my life.

Bail-out schmail-out

2008-11-13T05:01:00.001-08:00

My poor husband has had to deal with a very grumpy version of my normally sunshine-y self for the past few days. Probably it's brain chemistry but the object of my anger has been the economic bail-out and surrounding hubbub. So, I'm going to share with you the opinion I've developed. If you don't feel like reading to the bottom, here's the synopsis: I hate the bail-out, I dislike Nancy Pulosi, and I feel consternation towards my beloved Barack Obama. Also, I dis-like being blamed (as a democrat) for things that everybody first hated and then reluctantly voted for. Finally, I think Paulson is a crook.

Now, here's my rant. I am responding to a question about why the "democrats want to bail out GM" and an assertion that, if you want to know, you should ask John Lewis.

First of all, this is the same $700 billion that we're talking about, the $700 billion that everyone agreed should be used to "save the economy". And, for the record, John Lewis voted against the bail-out initially, before everyone got bullied into it with the whole "financial armagedon" argument. There was no real plan for the $700 bilion. It was just a number pulled out of a hat. So now it's up for grabs. It was $700 billion that never existed but now it's a giant number that can be used to bail out whomever.

Clearly, this is a situation like the weapons of mass destruction, wherein we realize we've had our chain yanked and then we can't figure out how to get out of it. I'm not sure that it's a great idea to have a banker (i.e., Paulson) in charge of deciding that some infinite amount of money should be allocated exclusively to bailing out banks. I also think that if we have a giant pile of money available to bail people out, particularly people who have behaved quite badly (i.e., subprime lenders and leveragers), why not preserve the jobs of hardworking wage earners. I mean, bailing out GM seems dumb but, seriously? The leveraging and the subprime mortgages is, you know, unethical, as opposed to just bad management.

So, then, my friend said: Good point, Sara. [that's my favorite part]

Not in favor of the $$ going to AIG either, but I guess I just assumed that if the people in the know say it was necessary to prevent the financial collapse of our entire economic system, I believed they knew better than I. Now I'm hearing things like the artificial propping up will, in the long run, make things worse. I don't want half a million hard working folks to lose their jobs, but I wonder what happens if there's no bailout? Will someone buy those factories? Does another automaker move into that gap in the market and potentially make use of that workforce? Where do the people who are owed pensions fall in line when GM's debtors line up during bankruptcy?

I think that these are all excellent points that my friend made and Kevin made similar ones last night when I was screaming at him in the car. He was sort of whispering...I wonder if I should apologize... Anyway, another thing that Kevin said is that he doesn't just want to give them more money to buy more steel so that they can make more Chevy Tahoes that nobody wants. And this is an excellent point. But my Barack Obama is in favor of the GM bailout! I suggested that maybe this is a good opportunity for him to start implementing one of his stated goals, which is to get American automakers in the green business. To create jobs while also putting more fuel-efficient vehicles on the road. When you give out money, you get to make all sorts of conditions, right? I hope?

Finally, I promised that I would discuss Nancy Pelosi. I find that I don't like her. I don't like agreeing with Republicans if I can help it but I do find her to be sort of combative and partisan and I find that when she talks, whatever she's talking about sounds like a bad idea. She has this sort of textbook "bleeding heart liberal" tone that really gets under my skin. Like she's constantly saying, "Has anybody considered the downy moth?" in the face of an argument about a labor dispute. I realize that, in this case, she's on the side of the workers but, somehow, I get that overly-liberal vibe. I get the feeling that she thinks that giant piles of money are the best solution to any problem and that this money is being withheld from her and her cause out of hatefulness and greed, rather than that money is a finite resource that needs to be parsed out with careful consideration. The problem that I've noticed is that now no one is considering money as a finite resource. Everyone is just making up giant numbers and saying that anyone who wants to withhold the money is trying to bring down catastrophe on all our heads. So, I find it hard to pick a side.

Pitch it in here, sir.

2008-11-12T13:21:00.000-08:00

I was just explaining to Kevin that Obama thanked me in his victory speech, since I gave money and told my friends about how much I like him. Also, I blogged about him. Then the following opinion piece came on NPR (I copied the whole thing because, personally, I don't really click links in blogs).

Opinion
Get Our Help While You Can, Obama

by Paula Poundstone
(from http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=96890409)

Morning Edition, November 12, 2008 · People still seem full of hope after the historic election of Barack Obama. This is America, though, it can't last. Pleased and proud as we are, Obama hasn't been on American Idol, so we're bound to lose interest soon.

That's why President-elect Obama needs to waste no time in harnessing this feeling and ask something of us. We'll spend. We'll save. We'll do laps. We'll wear sweaters.

My parents are a part of the "Greatest Generation." They pulled our nation through the Depression and World War II, and when they heard the call, they collected rubber.

My generation rode out the Beanie Baby crash, ran up both credit card debt and the nation's weight, and brought us reality TV and the SUV, but it's not all we can do. We've grown up collecting box tops and shoes. We've earned free doughnuts by getting our cards punched with every dozen purchased. We're the "a-thon" generation. We've jogged, walked and pedaled thousands of miles because someone said it would cure cancer.

It's our turn now. Just ask us. We've adopted freeways and been up all night with night feedings. We'll bring an unwrapped gift. We'll bring canned goods. We'll collect flip-tops. Yes, we will.

What do you need us to do, President-elect Obama? We could form a bucket brigade to bail out the banks. We could collect Band-Aids, not the useless little ones, for the health care system. We could take shifts forming human pyramids to hold up our crumbling bridges.

The entire country could hold a progressive dinner party to feed the homeless. We could all commit to wearing the same clothes two days in a row to save water, energy and time. I'll go three, because I care more than the others. We can carry road-mending materials in our cars and fill pot holes during traffic jams. We can put a wishing well on Wall Street.

Our leadership has told us that we have a long, hard climb before us, which I would welcome, because I love the outdoors, and I could use the weight loss, but I have a bad feeling it has nothing to do with climbing.

I'm waiting. I'm punching my glove. It's oiled and ready. Pitch it in here, sir.

Commentator and comedian Paula Poundstone is a regular on NPR's game show Wait Wait Don't ... Tell Me!

A little comic relief...

2008-11-11T07:55:00.000-08:00

I hadn't heard of these people before but these songs are quite funny.

I [heart] my future president

2008-11-06T05:53:00.000-08:00

I think that Reagan and Bush supporters have felt this way before. Clinton did some things that I approved of, politically speaking, but, personally, I just would like to say, "Ick ick ick." So, really this is a new feeling for me. I love this man. I watch his face when he speaks and remember fondly the little way that he flinches when he gets hit by a raindrop or the way he held back tears talking about his grandmother or the way he smiled when the crowd started chanting, "Yes we can!" I love him and now I'm so concerned for his safety. I can imagine now, for the first time, why people threw themselves down and sobbed when JFK was assassinated. He holds all my hopes and dreams, sure, but also, I think I have grown to actually love him. Is that possible?

Tonight is your answer

2008-11-05T08:46:00.000-08:00

I'm without words of my own so I'm using a quote from last night's speech:

It's the answer that led those who've been told for so long by so many to by cynical and fearful and doubtful about what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day. It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

I am at once so grateful and hopeful and fearful and amazed by these events. The clips from people who voted for the first time in their lives and civil rights leaders who never thought they'd see the day have left me stunned. Maybe tomorrow I'll be exuberant but today I'm just stunned.

Happy Halloween/Birthday

2008-11-02T07:21:00.000-08:00

Here are a few of my favorite things: costumes, presents, puppet shows, friends and family, getting lots of attention, steaks with bleu cheese, legos, memory foam, bookstore gift cards, Flight of the Conchords, ice cream, craft projects, nice fall weather, days off...

It is for these reasons, and many others, that my birthday weekend, so far, has been an absolute dream. On Friday, I worked from home and completed two thesis chapters without having to interact with a very grumpy advisor. Then, at 4:30, my husband came home early and my dad arrived from Tennessee. We walked to dinner in shirt sleeves with the sun warming us on the way and then we came home and drove to the puppet show (see above link). The show was fun, I saw a friend there, and we all returned home and went to sleep, after polishing off what the kids had left of the halloween candy (which we had left out on the steps). The next day, we all got up and drank coffee. Then Dad and I constructed an Ebenezer/bell banner for his church service on Sunday while Kevin grilled steaks, which he served with bleu cheese, sauteed mushrooms, and caramelized onions. Also asparagus and spaghetti squash. Then, caramel praline crunch ice cream and presents. My camera is lost so I don't have pictures of mine but I got the lego dwarves' mine. yay! Also, the first season of Flight of the Conchords, the CD of the Flight of the Conchords songs, a memory foam pillow, and a Barnes and Noble gift card. Also, a pillow with stitching on it that my mom had started and my sister finished. Good times. Very good times. Then, today, I get an extra hour! It's still only 10:30 and I've been awake, finishing my dwarves' mine, for hours!

Goin' rogue

2008-10-31T06:11:00.000-07:00

I love the part where they say, "She can have a dozen babies, she can lay a thousand eggs!" and show all her kids...

But what I like more is how Jon comments on the fact that she's not doing anything but talking but everyone's so mad because all she was supposed to do was show up and shut up and how this says sort of a lot about Sarah Palin. Again, she and I are not politically aligned but I think she has moxie and I like her.

So, I have something else to say and, since it's the same day, I'm just going to tack it on the end:

35.5 miles per gallon

Created by The Car Connection

The Candy Man

2008-10-30T06:56:00.000-07:00

For some reason, I can't get this song out of my head:

Who can take a sunrise, sprinkle it with dew
Cover it with choc'late and a miracle or two
The Candy Man, oh the Candy Man can
The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good

Who can take a rainbow, wrap it in a sigh
Soak it in the sun and make a groovy lemon pie
The Candy Man, the Candy Man can
The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good

The Candy Man makes everything he bakes satisfying and delicious
Now you talk about your childhood wishes, you can even eat the dishes

Oh, who can take tomorrow, dip it in a dream
Separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream
The Candy Man, oh the Candy Man can
The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good

The Candy Man makes everything he bakes satisfying and delicious
Talk about your childhood wishes, you can even eat the dishes

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Who can take tomorrow, dip it in a dream
Separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream
The Candy Man, the Candy Man can
The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good
Yes, the Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good
a-Candy Man, a-Candy Man, a-Candy Man
Candy Man, a-Candy Man, a-Candy Man
Candy Man, a-Candy Man, a-Candy Man

I'm sort of concerned about my sanity because things at work are sort of going badly and all I can do is walk sort of happily around singing this ridiculous song to myself, occasionally breaking into actual audible whistling or humming. Now that I see the lyrics, I really like the song. Especially the final verse about "tomorrow." I think it's an amalgamation of my worry about the future and Halloweeen candy, manifesting itself in a strangely happy, if annoying, habit.

Colin Powell Endorses Barack Obama

2008-10-22T11:52:00.000-07:00

I love this interview. Colin Powell is one of the greatest people alive, in my opinion. I absolutely love the way that he is able to talk about his previous positions and the things that he has said historically. I haven't always aligned with General Powell's politics but I have always respected him and his point of view.

Let me just make sure that those of you who haven't been following have heard the response of Rush Limbaugh, and then other people, to this endorsement:

I included this Larry King thing because that's where I heard Rush's soundbite and Tom Brokaw and Bob Schieffer are so charming, being pals and buddies. I have high hopes for our country. Very high hopes.

Crocheting question...

2008-10-20T07:34:00.000-07:00

I have taught myself to crochet...which is fine, as long as you don't have any questions that aren't covered in the book... I have completed two of the 20 octagons I'm supposed to make for this afghan (let's not even talk about the squares). I like the colors and I'm having a reasonably good time. I've gotten so that I can follow the pattern and that's nice, but the central cluster is hard. Here's my question: Sometimes, I'm supposed to insert the hook into a space, instead of a stitch. My understanding is that the stitch is the 'V' part, the back of which is just a single piece of yarn. So, what's the space? Anybody?

Crap, I've just looked online to find that I've been picking up too much stitch. I have been picking up the entire V, instead of just one half...well, my octagons look like they're supposed to so...

The central clusters are really the problem. That link is a hexagon but my octagon is the same idea. The thing is, though, that for this hexagon, the person has started with a 6ch, which makes sense. Mine starts with a 5-stitch chain and is supposed to be an octagon. So, I'm having to make clusters in stitches, which is straightforward, but also 'spaces,' which confuses me...

Joe the plumber

2008-10-17T06:08:00.000-07:00

Here are the things I'd like to say:

#1. If this man's not paying his taxes or planning on changing his vote, how did he think he should get so much time to talk to Sen. Obama. I want to talk to Sen. Obama for 6 minutes. Although, I guess I don't want to talk about his tax plan. Now I'm going to spend the day deciding what I'd say if I got 6 minutes with Obama...I think I might pass out or just giggle and tell him that I love him.

#2. My husband said that this "spread the wealth around" business is as bad as if Obama had said "screw the troops, this war is a bust." First, I pointed out to him that I am an Obama voter and I heard the entire conversation between Joe and Barack and I am not as turned off as if he had said "screw the troops, this war is a bust." Second, I asked him if the people who are so upset about the "spread the wealth around" quote listened to the entire conversation. Because he was responding to the idea of a flat tax. And he points out that, if we were to go to a flat tax, we would need to charge 40% sales tax. Is this what the opponents want? 40% sales tax? Even 25% would be too high.

#3. Joe says that Obama "tap-danced around the issue." What, do you think, would have been the straight answer that Joe was looking for? How could Obama have been straightforward enough for Joe? He brought up, and admitted, their fundamental disagreement, which is that Obama believes that "spread[ing] the wealth around" is "better for everybody." Joe and McCain think that Joe should be allowed to spread his wealth around himself. The way that Haliburton and big oil have been spreading the wealth around during the past eight years. Obama said something that is politically dangerous in answer to Joe's question. What did Joe want? He wanted Obama to lie down on the ground, do a couple of spasms, and die? Change his mind about his politics? Become a libertarian? Poof. and transform into Ron Paul?

Whooo! Turn it up!

2008-10-16T06:59:00.000-07:00

That debate last night...I was going to only watch half and it started out the same as all the others and THEN [fanfare] things finally got ugly. http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/10/15/video.transcript/

OK, so the thing I wanted to know more about is this John Lewis business. I have high regard for John Lewis and, frankly, knowing what he said about the McCain/Palin rallies frightens me. However, according the the new york times article that I cited above,

"In response, the Obama campaign said in a statement, “Senator Obama does not believe that John McCain or his policy criticism is in any way comparable to George Wallace or his segregationist policies.” But the campaign added that Mr. Lewis was right to condemn some of the “hateful rhetoric” at Mr. McCain’s rallies."

So, I watched the "perception analyzer" results and I feel confident that things have not changed but a lot of people on TV thought that McCain really handed Obama his hat in this debate. I didn't think so. It was a good fight, though. Much more interesting than the first two.

Graduate school Barbie

2008-10-14T11:48:00.001-07:00

I have nothing to say again so I'm going to (again) post one of the email forwards I received that I think is super funny:

GET GRADUATE SCHOOL BARBIE (TM)

Graduate School Barbie comes in two forms: Delusional Master's Barbie (tm) and Ph.D. Masochist Barbie (tm).

Every Graduate School Barbie comes with these fun filled features guaranteed to delight and entertain for hours: Grad School Barbie comes out of the box with a big grin on her face that turns into afrown after 2 weeks or after her first advisor meeting (whichever comes first). She also has adorable black circles under her delightfully bloodshot eyes.

Comes with two outfits: a grubby pair of blue jeans and 5 year old gap T-shirt, and a floppy pair of gray sweatpants with a matching "Go S***w Yourself" T-shirt. Grad School Barbie talks! Just press the button on her left hand and hear her say such upbeat grad school phrases like, "Yes, Professor, It'll be done by tomorrow", "I'd love to rewrite" and finally: "Why didn't I just get a job, I could have been making $40,000 a year by now if I had just started working with a Bachelor's. I wish somebody would drop a bomb on the school so that I'd have an excuse to stop working on my degree that's sucking every last drop of life force out of my withered and degraded excuse for a soul..." (9V lithium batteries sold separately)

Grad School Barbie is anatomically correct to teach kids about the exciting changes that come with pursuing a higher education. Removable panels on Barbie's head and torso allow you to watch as her cerebellum fries to a crispy brown, her heart race 150 beats per minute, and her stomach lining gradually dissolve into nothing. Deluxe Barbie comes with specially designed eye ducts. Just add a little water, and watch
Grad School Barbie burst into tears at random intervals. Fun for the whole family!

Other accessories include:

Grad School Barbie's Fun Fridge (tm) Well stocked with microwave popcorn, Coca-Cola, Healthy Choice Bologna (99% fat free!),and several small bottle of Mattel Brand Rum (tm).

Grad School Barbie's Medicine Cabinet comes in Fabulous (pepto-bismal) pink and contains Barbie sized bottles of Advil, St. Johns Wort, Zantac, and your choice of three fun anti-anxiety drugs! (Barbie Medicine Cabinet not available without a prescription).

And Grad School Barbie is not alone! Order now and you'll get two of Barbie's great friends! GRADUATE ADVISOR KEN, Barbie's mentor and advisor in her quest for knowledge, higher education and decreased self esteem.

Grad Advisor Ken (tm) comes with a supply of red pens and a permanent frown. Press the button to hear Grad Advisor Ken deliver such wisdom to Barbie as "I need an update on your progress," "I don't think you're ready to defend yet", and "This is no where near ready for publication" and "what's your big rush.....!"

Buy 3 or more dolls, and you can have Barbie's Thesis Committee! (Palm Pilot and tenure sold separately.)

REAL JOB SKIPPER, When Barbie needs to talk, she knows that she can always count on her good friend Real Job Skipper (tm), who got a job after getting her bachelor degree. Press the button to hear Real Job Skipper say, "Sometimes I wish I went for my masters degree" and "Work is so hard! I had to work a half an hour of overtime!" Real Job Skipper's Work Wardrobe, Savings Account, Medical Plan, Reliable Car, Comfortable House, and Happy Life, sold separately.

WARNING: Do not place Grad Student Barbie and Real Job Skipper too close to each other, as there have been several cases of children leaving the room and coming back to find Barbie's hands mysteriously fused to Skipper's throat.

Conservative feminism again.

2008-10-13T06:27:00.000-07:00

I keep thinking about Sarah Palin and conservative feminism. Also, about these "soccer moms" who love Sarah Palin and the fact that the other people keep talking about how dumb she is. My husband calls her "George Bush in a skirt" and I think that may be an apt comparison because he is also considered dumb by the popular culture. Yet, both people have made giant strides in terms of their personal success in this country. So, what does all of this imply?

Oh, I have one more thing in my little grab bag of topics that I haven't totally synthesized yet: Women's history and the lack of women in regular history (including the completely lost stories of women, not just "women's history" that includes Annie Oakley, Florence Nightengale, Susan B. Anthony, Betsy Ross, and Amelia Earhart).

Now, I started discussing beauty-queen-intellegence with my lab mate a minute ago and she referenced an Alabama beauty queen she knows who used her pageant proceeds to fund her engineering education. I think this is related to embracing the feminine while not dictating the behavior of women, one way or the other. Also, I am pro-choice because I believe that there are a lot of hard decisions and difficult connundrums that need to be considered in abortion legislation and that pregnancy is full of pitfalls and scary near-misses and border-line situations. That said, I love that part of Sarah Palin's speech that they keep putting on TV where she tells someone to let that baby keep crying. She loves that sound. I totally support the idea that babies and families and lifestyles that are conducive to babies and families are being neglected in this country at this time. I heard this guy on the radio talking about fundamentalist Christians and their values and I felt super pissed off that he thought that he and I are so different that I can't understand him. On the other hand, Bill Maher was on the Daily Show this, or last, week:

This man makes me want to become a conservative and support Sarah Palin... Maybe in a few days I'll decide what I want to say about all of these issues.

I'm going to try this for my defense.

2008-10-06T08:24:00.001-07:00

I'm looking forward to giving a little wink to the surly members of my committee (wink, wink, pose).

Friday, sweaty friday

2008-10-04T11:17:00.000-07:00

Blogs are a tricky issue. You can't talk about people who don't know you're talking about them, nor can you talk about people you don't like, at all. Also, you should probably keep from jinxing yourself on things by committing them to print. So, as a result, I find that I can not blog about one of the best and most tumultuous days I've ever had. It was this past Friday. Turns out that extremes in emotion make me sweat. That's the reason for the title of the blog. The high on Friday was 78 degrees. I was dressed appropriately. I ended the day needing to actually change my clothes before I could go to my celebratory dinner at the neighborhood pub. Gross, right? Emotional sweating. Not a cool characteristic. It's good that I'm not a spy or a professional poker player.

OK, so, here's what I will say about Friday. I want to reference Chocolat and that wind that makes the lady move around. I feel that this week was just like that. At some point between last week and this week, I decided to relax and just let things happen. Suddenly, the wind began to blow, temperatures dropped, my sister got her power knocked out by a wind storm, etc. Then, on Friday, I was given permission to [omitted in order to avoid tempting the fates]. Rhymes with bledule my blefense. Also, there is a toxic relationship, which developed this past semester between myself and an unnamed individual. A horrible confrontation occurred (details to anyone who contacts me in a non-public setting), the end result of which was the end of the relationship (joyful, joyful).

In addition to these two issues, I had been working on a small experiment for a second-author paper, which had stalled. There is one person who could have helped me figure out the problem. She doesn't work at GT, but, due to my window of unbelievable fortune, she showed up in my office, un-beckoned by me, and fixed my problem. Let's see...there was something else. OH! I don't mean to make you all think I'm crazy, but, on the way home, I got stuck behind a tow truck which had, printed on it's rear windshield, "God makes all things possible." I got all choked up before I reminded myself about how hard I have worked for all of these things...still. I like to indulge in a little beliefe in the other-worldly influence every now and then.

(I just noticed, on the TV, that, after the debate last week, about 50% of people think that Sarah Palin is qualified to be president. People are constantly surprising me.)

Lemme hear ya say "Hell yeah!"

2008-10-01T08:06:00.000-07:00

My husband sent me a link to some recent polling data. It's too bad, for the republicans, that square footage doesn't play any role in elections. Now I'm just crossing my fingers and hoping that Palin says something dumber than whatever Biden says in the vice-presidential debates. They're a couple of ticking timebombs, really!

Absence due to PackRat

2008-09-29T08:34:00.000-07:00

I've just encountered the most addictive (for me) game on the internet. I was luring my friends to play with me but, now, I'm afraid that it's a mean thing to do. Because I can't stop playing! It's PackRat. It's part of facebook. I love it. I guess when I love things, I frequently obsess about them, but this is getting out of hand. I play at night, on weekends, all the time. I dream about it.
Let me explain: The game involves trading cards and "stealing" cards from your friends. Here's what the cards look like. You start out with a hand of cards and you try to make collections. The pictured cards are all in the "Sleep Tight" collection, as indicated by the icon in the bottom left corner. The bottom right corner is the value of the card so a high-value card can easily be swapped for a low value card but not vice versa. When you accumulate "credits," you can buy cards from "The Market." Like Barack Obama's and my approach to foreign relations, the best case scenario appears to be for everyone to team up and help each other. As far as I can see, cut-throat, every-player-for-herself PackRat hurts everyone (like my opinion on foreign relations).

So, you can only play with people who are your facebook friends. Consequently, since most of my friends don't play, I started asking the other players to be friends with me. This has turned out well in one instance. The friend who invited me and my one new friend help me get the collections that I need and I help them when I can (infrequently because, the longer you play, the easier the game gets for you, for several reasons). Also, I help the new friends I've lured on, in an attempt to encourage them to play, which helps me. In two instances, my random PackRat friends have turned out to be busts. One girl didn't know how to be courteous, I suspect. The other is a raving lunatic. Now, I didn't realize, at first, that you only screw yourself by being discourteous because, then, the things you are trying to collect get stolen and you have to keep them locked up tight, difficult for a newbie. So, I behaved badly and stole things from the lunatic. When my kindly friends explained to me how to play, I went back and apologized to the lunatic player. She snapped at me in return, lying, and telling me that that was the last card she needed to complete her collection. Also, she broke one of my locks (believe me, this isn't nice). Well, you can see the "vaults" of your friends, so I knew that she was lying about the card I had taken being the last one she needed and I found her a card that she needed, even though I couldn't find the one I had stolen. So, days pass and she seems okay. Until, at some point last night, the crazy lady decided that I was taking cards from one of her collections without asking. (By the way, I wasn't!) So she broke three of my locks and stole one of the cards that's really hard to make! Crazy! I de-friended her. It turns out that randomly picking packrat friends is not ideal.

Long story short, I've been thinking about this nasty packrat player all day. As soon as I de-friended her, I couldn't leave her any messages. So, I'm regretting that I didn't explain before I left that I hadn't taken any of her f-ing cards. Also, by the time she vandalized me, I had gotten a connection, via one of my other friends, to replace the card I had stolen. Maybe this doesn't makes sense, because I'm so comfortable with the lingo that I haven't explained things but the moral is that I have become totally overcome with this game, to the point that it is the primary drama in my life. I have written no blog entries in almost two weeks and now the only thing I can talk about is the lunatic packrat player. I walked to the bathroom (a long walk in my building) going over and over in my head what I should have said, before defriending the packrat player, and how that really would have shown her that she had made a mistake in treating me so badly. Crazy. I am totally crazy.

Depression as Mere Sadness

2008-09-17T15:00:00.000-07:00

This article on depression was in the new york times today. The guy, in the end, decides that it is better to play it safe and assume that people are actually telling the truth and feeling overwhelmed with their sadness, than it is to try the "buck up little camper" approach to psychiatric treatment. I think that this is a very kind position to take. I feel that i have been in both situations, those in which I needed to just get out and get some more exercise and try a little positive thinking, and those, like now, when I'm feeling totally powerless and victimized in my job, in which I need some professional supervision to be sure that I don't veer into the dark beyond. I have never been to the dark beyond. I can only imagine that the severe depression that I have sensed, lurking at the edge of my psyche, must be nothing short of hell. I have heard people say that they have shock therapy to end depression because, even though it's excrutiating, and only works for a short time, these people would do anything to lift the veil of their depression. I have no reason not to believe these people.

I don't know why there is so much "suck-it-up" sentiment going around all the time. People seem to be very un-sympathetic these days. Why do they even care so much? There are people with very strong opinions about how depressed people just need to direct their feet to the sunny side of the street. I guess I'm somewhat un-sympathetic to people who constantly miss work and have a zillion excuses. I think that it's because I hate having to show up on time and do things and I don't think anyone else should get out of it, if I have to do it. So, maybe that's it. Maybe, when times are tough, people get angry. They are having to suck it up so they don't see why they should make allowances for other people. But why are they so hard on the depressed? The depressed are not asking for anything from the critical people. And why would the critical people think that someone would choose depression? I have a friend who had a wife with severe morning sickness. In the third month of this poor woman throwing up every second, at the drop of a hat, the friend told me that they had not believed pregnant women before. The friend wanted to stress to me that morning sickness was very serious and that I should believe him on that. I was not surprised. I believed that it was terrible before. I had been told that it involved a lot of vomiting. And I've vomited before and it sucks. And no one would do it voluntarily, without some sort of psychosis. Do you know what's worse than vomiting? The feeling you have when you know you're going to vomit. And when that lasts a long time and you don't actually throw up but you don't feel like you can go anywhere far from the toilet because you can't tell... You know what can be worse than that? Never-ending depression. People need to stop being dickheads and just believe that it's real. What damage is done if they believe it and they're wrong as opposed to the damage that's done when they deny people's pain?

You, sir, are totally wrong!

2008-09-16T08:24:00.000-07:00

I got sent an article (Schwartz. 2008. Journal of Cell Science. doi:10.1242/jcs.033340) which genuinely addresses how I feel, but only at the very beginning when the author is quoting someone else:

I recently saw an old friend for the first time in many years. We had been Ph.D. students at the same time, both studying science, although in different areas. She later dropped out of graduate school, went to Harvard Law School and is now a senior lawyer for a major environmental organization. At some point, the conversation turned to why she had left graduate school. To my utter astonishment, she said it was because it made her feel stupid. After a couple of years of feeling stupid every day, she was ready to do something else.

As soon as the author starts talking, he starts getting it all wrong. Here's his thesis:

I’d like to suggest that our Ph.D. programs often do students a disservice in two ways. First, I don’t think students are made to understand how hard it is to do research. And how very, very hard it is to do important research. It’s a lot harder than taking even very demanding courses. What makes it difficult is that research is
immersion in the unknown. We just don’t know what we’re doing. We can’t be sure whether we’re asking the right question or doing the right experiment until we get the answer or the result. Admittedly, science is made harder by competition for grants and space in top journals. But apart from all of that, doing significant research is intrinsically hard and changing departmental, institutional or national policies will not succeed in lessening its intrinsic difficulty.

And here's what I'd like to say: I think that my PhD program has not only given me a very clear idea of how hard it is to do research, I think that my PhD program has given me a very clear idea of how hard it is to maintain one's sense of worth while being constantly surrounded by people who think they are more valuable and worthwhile than you are simply because they have earned a PhD, or a faculty position, or a nobel prize or whatever. I think that my PhD program has also given me a clear idea of how hard it is to work inside of a hierarchical profession, dominated at the top by men, which inherently refuses to recognize new ideas while they are still new. Also, a profession which maintains its own sanctity and value to the point that anyone who seeks to criticize the system (e.g., the smart woman that is the subject of this man's essay) is labelled as one of the outside intruders who never understood or cared enough about its basic tenets. Let's all recall the Harvard incident. To me, this is the perfect example, not just of sexism in science but of non-science-ism. Scientists who have been successful seem to absolutely refuse to admit that anything could ever be wrong with the great institution of science. It's got to be the fault of the person rejecting science. There is no other option. Science is sacred, science is holy, science is exactly as it was intended to be by its maker, hold on, I mean by the big bang...or evolution...or whatever...

Registering a complaint

2008-09-15T07:56:00.001-07:00

I would like to contest the notion that this is the way that any period in anyone's life should look. For the past, oh, 7-8 months, maybe longer, I have spent approximately 1-2 days per week bolstering myself from a collapse. So, about 1-2 days per week for the past 7-8 months I become so discouraged and disempowered that I either sit at my desk and cry or go into the stairwell near my office to sit on a step and convince myself that it's not a good idea to walk away without this God forsaken degree under my belt. I know that, if I were to have walked away, at any of these points, I would have always thought that I was very close and shouldn't have walked away. The problem is that, at any of these points, had I known how far away I actually was, I may have made a different decision. I am not almost finished. I just have a carrot stuck out on a stick in front of my face.

So, the reason for launching into this thesis/theorem is that, when I sort of point this out to other academics I get some version of the following: "That's just how it is. I remember when I was finishing my thesis, my boss took a 1-year sabbatical and I just had to sit and wait for him to come back." or, "That's how it is. My boss gave me and my coworker the same project and then, when she complained that I was about to publish the same work that she had done, he told me to drop it and do something else, when I was ready to publish and she was just getting started." or, "That's how it is. My finger tips turned blue and I couldn't stop shaking for the last three months of my PhD."

Here's my assertion: This is not okay. People should not have their spirits broken/dreams trampled/lives dismantled in order to prove their desire to be an academic. This rite of passage is absurd, whether it happens to everyone or not. What if I were to die tomorrow? I would have nothing to show for all this hard work and my achievements would get me nothing at the pearly gates. I have improved no one's life, as far as I can tell. I have saved no babies, I have soothed no wounds, I have done squat but knock myself out for someone who has placed me firmly at the bottom of his priority list. So, what? Nothing. No one cares. I can't even think of a conclusion for my rant. Life's not fair. Suck it up. Fish or cut bait. If I don't like it, I can leave, that sort of thing. It's the best I can come up with. Hopefully I'm wrong about that pearly gates business and there is someone around me somewhere who has benefitted from my sunny disposition. Do you know what else I've noticed, in terms of my contribution to the planet? I park badly. I'm one of the people who doesn't seem able to position her car between a pair of white lines. I look around myself in the parking deck and everyone seems to be better at this than I am. I think I may also be a somewhat distracted driver. Great. I'm part of the problem. That's not what I wanted for my life.

Tiny piece of the "liberal blogosphere"

2008-09-13T06:44:00.000-07:00

With my little patch of blogosphere, I just have one thing to say again: I don't think Sarah Palin is all that bad. Maybe it's because I'm not on the fence but I don't care about her missteps. I don't care that she dodged a question about the Bush doctrine and I don't think that her nomination is a farce or an insult to the country. I think she's a good vice-presidential running mate for John McCain. I think she was a strategic wild card pick but I think it was smart and I think they filled in a gap in John McCain's image. I strongly, strongly disagree with her politics. This is how I know she's good for the republicans. Also, I love Barack Obama and I don't care very much who's running against him. Also, I'm really glad to have someone whose wide open platforms I am free to strongly disagree with. NO, don't go to war with Russia! NO, don't drill in ANWR! NO, I do not support your boot-strap health care philosophy! NO, NO, NO! But, I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I feel so much better having someone I can actually understand. I can sort of see why a person who is wrong about political matters might like the McCain/Palin ticket. I have no idea why so many people continue to support GWB and it scares me and makes me feel threatened.

I was super frustrated yesterday morning because there was this awful circular debate about the Iraq war with the guy who wrote some book...hold on...Oh, man, I knew I recognized that guy! It was fucking Newt Gingrich! So, he's talking to Matt Lauer, of all people, about the Iraq war. And Matt Lauer points out something about how Sarah Palin strongly implied that her son is going to fight the people who made the September 11th attacks even though that's not true. And Newt Gingrich was like, "Well you're talking about the 2002 world. We're talking about the world as it is now. Al Qaeda is in Iraq now." I mean, I drooled coffee onto my shirt, my jaw dropped so dramatically. I'm not sure I'm eloquent enough to point out how this very argument illustrates how I've felt for the last eight or so years but here goes: The conservatives are now spitting and spoofing at the liberals for not understanding how NOW Al Qaeda is in Iraq, unlike in 2002. THIS, my friends, is EXACTLY what we understand! Your boy took a place which, maybe wasn't Disneyland, but wasn't filled with the people who had just attacked the USA, and he turned it into a safe place for Al Qaeda. George Bush gained ground for the people who launched the September 11th attacks! You're telling ME this? You're telling me? Seriously? You're the one who still supports this bozo! And then, (hold on, I need to breathe...inhale, exhale) And THEN I was listening to some stupid conservative radio morning show DJs talking about how liberals are always asking them what they see in Sarah Palin. And they're like, "You look up her voting record. I'm satisfied. I don't need to see what she's done." Hold on, I'm not the one voting for this lady! You...I mean I...I mean YOU...I am not asking because I want to know. I'm asking because I want to see that you know. And you don't! And they're like, "You big city boys ain't gonna trick me! I'm not doin' the dirty werk for ya! Yew look up what she stands for. I am votin' republican!" Oh, for crying out loud! Like it's somehow un-republican to discuss issues. And that is exactly what the party has become for me. They are people who refuse to discuss things. They want to scream insults at me and tell me I'm unpatriotic and immoral and that I don't understand and they don't want to speak in words that have meaning. I'm an educated person who has been paying attention and I don't think that the economy seems to be responding well to the Bush strategy. If you have something to say that explains this, help me out. They don't want to hear my side of the story. They just want to roll their eyes and talk about the biased liberal media. And they're winning! There are tons of them everywhere and they're winning!

So, as I said, I watched the RNC and I heard the positions of McCain and Palin and, for the first time in a hundred years, it wasn't so much smoke and mirrors. There weren't people standing there telling me what I already knew and pretending it wasn't horrific and ridiculous. There were people standing there saying things that seem like things that reasonable people might say. Things that I disagree with, but things that turned into words which formed images in my mind that I could understand. Thank you. Thank you for stopping the onslaught of the crazy fireworks sleight of hand puppet show that has been the Bush administration. I appreciate an opponent that I can see with my eyes, hear with my ears, and understand.

4am and all's we-ell

2008-09-11T00:53:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in my living room thinking about how it's a reasonable time for Emily to be awake and that she's probably at work being productive. I, on the other hand, am angry about my terrible lack of restraint regarding the espresso machine that my boss recently installed in my office. I've decided, therefore, that I might be more productive at work tomorrow if I blog now. I'm going to blog about the things that are running 'round and 'round in my mind:

(1) I never did like that Terri character on Project Runway and she was especially appalling this episode and I'm glad she's gone, even though her designs were often good, that drag queen outfit for example. On the other hand, I enjoyed silly little Blayne and I feel sad about his feeling slapped in the face. On yet another hand, Blayne's avant garde project was terrible. Terrible.

(2) Keith talks like a victim and annoys me so I don't feel sorry for him. I just dislike Terri over all. If I had gotten teamed up with Keith, I might not have wanted to work with him either. So whiney and demanding. Also, I find him sexist.

(3)...if you want me to, I could hang 'round with you if I only knew, that's what you're into...

(4) The points I intend to cover in my discussion section are as follows......hold on, if I rearrange the section about clone libraries, I can add a section about community analysis...wait, the discussion is already too long...maybe I'll take out the clone libraries all together...etc.

(5) I think maybe I should work outside of the office so that the new students will be forced to make appointments with me, rather than popping into my office at random moments and asking questions. On the other hand, it's nice to have the things I need on hand when I need them. On the other hand, being away from that blasted coffee machine couldn't hurt. Also I wouldn't be distracted by/constantly distracting my office mates. But, tomorrow, I have lab work to do so I have to go in tomorrow...then, Friday, I was going to go to the vortex for lunch. Maybe I could meet everyone there. Wait, did I say next Friday? I think I'm going out of town...

So, i think that this is standard insomnia crap. Song stuck in head, work concerns, over-thinking the last TV show I watched. Often, when I can't sleep, I also think about current events so it's nice to not have any of those lodged in the rotation. Although, now that I've reminded myself, I may rotate in some Sarah Palin material.

I'm going to go back and see if I can grab a couple hours before the alarm goes off...

For the sake of continuity...

2008-09-09T07:09:00.000-07:00

I don't know if anyone would miss my blog if it were gone but, just in case, I'm trying to keep it going even though, today, I have very little to say. I am hating politics now because it's gone to the bad place, as we all knew it would. Things are vague again and difficult to understand and people are saying things that I can't figure out. I liked the days of the convention when people were being nice to each other and saying really exciting and hopeful things about the future of our country. Now people are cynical again. Also, I watched the RNC to sort of make sure I knew what was going on on that side and now I'm angry at my liberal friends who made no effort to find out what John McCain said. Especially when they're sort of going on and on about how whatever he is. Oh, right, what the democrats said, how just like GWB he is. Also, the internet gossip issues are pissing me off. I want to take people at their word and then just, everybody decide, based on the issues. But, I guess if I'd done that in the last couple of elections, I would have wanted to support the troops and be a good American without noticing that there was a puppet show going on to distract me from the fact that the government was being systematically handed over to extremely wealthy business owners. Damned oligarchy.

This is reminding me of the time my lesbian friend was going to protest Dr. Laura's show coming to the Baltimore radio station nearby. I asked her why she didn't like Dr. Laura and she said that it was because "She thinks I'm going to hell!" I pointed out to my friend that Dr. Laura is jewish and doesn't believe in hell, per se. I also pointed out that, if someone asked later, she should say that Dr. Laura doesn't think she, a lesbian, is a fit parent. The friend said that she didn't care about that because she didn't want children. Then she continued to the protest. I think I'm probably just as guilty of having half-information about issues as the next person but I wish we could all discuss things together. I wish we could stop knee-jerk hating one another. I also wish that I could understand other people better. I wish I didn't feel so angry when people oppose me. My husband says I'm not allowed to keep up with politics anymore because it makes me angry and shouty and interrupt-y. So, there you go. I'm both sides of this coin. I think I shouted at him and interrupted when he was explaining that he didn't see McCain's speech but that...I don't know what he was going to say next...

The difference between a hockey mom and a pitbull--lipstick

2008-09-04T12:35:00.000-07:00

So, having listened to the speech today, I feel that I was right about Palin's version of feminism. I really think she's making the Republican ticket harder to beat. Small town people are going to love this lady. Hell, I like her and I really really hate her politics.

the Bechdel Rule

2008-09-03T08:53:00.001-07:00

I didn't know about this rule but I like it. I heard about it on npr last night. It says that one doesn't watch a TV show or movie unless it passes three criteria: (1) At least two female characters, who ... (2) talk to each other about. (3) something besides a man. The person giving the report recommended a show called the Middleman on ABC family. I'm going to start watching the Middleman. I think that the Gilmore Girls passes the Bechdel Rule. What about the Geddans rule which requires: (1) At least two nonwhite characters in the main cast ... (2) in a show that's not about race. Yes, right? Lane Kim and Michel?

So, next the commentator/blogger asks us for our own rule and one person said they would like to see a gay character who: (1) doesn't die and (2) wasn't molested as a child. I would say that I would like to see show which takes place in the south and: (1) sometimes includes winter and (2) isn't about racism...(3) or the Civil War.

Death to the family

2008-09-03T06:02:00.000-07:00

I'm investigating conservative feminism because this is the label associated with Sarah Palin. Initially, when someone said something like, "What do you think of McCain's pick? A conservative feminist, should be interesting." My initial reaction was, "Conservative feminist? WTF is that?" Days passed and I started to do my global learner skimming of what is said about Sarah Palin. I'm getting an image in my mind now of what I think a conservative feminst must be, based on the description of the Alaskan maverick vice-presidential candidate with five children, the youngest of whom has Down's Syndrome. The conservative feminist, I have gathered, is one of these wild west-type women with a big gun. I have to say that I like this idea.

I read a Louis L'amour short story about a woman who had lost her husband and was living alone in "Indian territory" with her five children. The male protagonist sort of happens upon her and narrowly avoids being shot. Another woman like this is the love interest of Dustfinger in the book Inkspell. I know, from my Halloween costume fiasco, that this reference will be lost on everyone but the idea is the same. Woman living alone because of the death of her husband, left to care for her children the best she can. Makes a living by the sweat of her brow and defends her children tooth and nail. All the men in the village call her derogatory things like, "firecracker" and "a real pistol" but it doesn't matter. She is what she is. I'm loving this new idea and so I started to look up "conservative feminism." Here's the sort of thing I found:

Conservative feminism criticizes the feminism which "adopts a male model of careerism and public achievement as female goals, thereby denying women's need for intimacy, family, and children." They fear that "equality means death to the family." They often reject the popular feminist epigram, "the personal is political."

What!?! This woman has been nominated as a candidate for vice president of the United States. Talk about the "male model of careerism and public achievement," that can't be right. So, then I found Margaret Hoover's description:

I am a Conservative Feminist. This is a woman who will allow a man to take her to dinner, but will also at times, pick up the check. She knows she can open the door for herself, pay the dinner bill, put on her coat, order for herself, but remains unoffended by acts of chivalry on behalf of men. In fact, she encourages them as signs of respect– and who knows, someday she might actually need help with the door. Fortunately, she wont have been hardened by a lifetime of being too proud to accept the assistance.

Pfft! Are we seriously defining ourselves by how we behave on dates? I don't care how Ms. Hoover behaves on dates. How did she make it big in television and political talk culture? This may be what defines her feminism more than her preference for soup or salad. I guess that what we're talking about here is feminism that embraces femininity. And I guess that this is what Sarah Palin has done, in my brief experience. She was a beauty queen but then she became mayor of a tiny town and then governor of, square-foot-wise, the largest state in the country. I guess I'm having trouble seeing how that needs to be different from regular feminism...until it comes down to politics. Clearly these women are pro-life, but what else? Here's something from a website called "Rightgrrl!"

...spunky, calloused, informed, bold, and principled. A quick study of Palin news clips shows that she’s your typical conservative - more green than the Left would have you believe, pro-life even when tested, able to fire a gun, eager to drill domestically (especially in ANWR), tax shy, and pro military.

So, I think that these women are against the victimization mentality that some people associate with traditional feminism. (And, my experience with many Georgia Tech women is consistent with this particular theory.) I'm down with that. I'm totally into the tough debutant image. Love it, in fact. It's not me but it's fantastic. So, I guess that, in this case, the idea is that this woman is a feminist because she is. And that she's a conservative because she's free to think whatever way she wants. More power to her. We disagree and that's fine. I won't vote for her (or McCain) because I think there is too much at stake in association with our disagreements. But, at the same time, I'm going to argue with those who say that "conservative feminist" is an oxymoron, even though it was my initial knee-jerk reaction. What are we fighting for if it's not the right to move freely through life without the restrictions of our gender? If this woman wants to be wrong about politics, more power to her. I actually really like her, at this point. I'm not voting for her, but I like her. Bravo, John McCain. Way to make this an election that will be historic one way or the other. Also, maverick you and maverick Sarah Palin absolutely will shake up the right, even as you are forced to cow tow to your party. And that will be terrific. Hopefully you won't win, but, even if you do, let's kick the old tired politics in the ass. The media is against us but we can do it. We can talk about issues and brave ahead. Let them call you pretty. You are pretty. Also, you'll kick their sorry shriveled pasty asses if they cross you. Love it. Totally into it. Let the games begin!

Eight is Enough

2008-08-29T06:33:00.000-07:00

What can I say? What is there to say? As I mentioned to Emily, I am un-fit, at this point to interact with other humans because I can not believe that there is anyone on the opposite side of this election. I have hateful and terrible thoughts about them. Maybe watching some of the Republican convention is what I need to pull me, at least into tolerance. God, I love this man. I need a series of giant posters of Barack Obama's face. Here are just a couple of reminders of why I am so head-over-heels in love:

We may not agree on abortion, but surely we can agree on reducing the number of unwanted pregnancies in this country. The reality of gun ownership may be different for hunters in rural Ohio than for those plagued by gang-violence in Cleveland, but don't tell me we can't uphold the Second Amendment while keeping AK-47s out of the hands of criminals. I know there are differences on same-sex marriage, but surely we can agree that our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters deserve to visit the person they love in the hospital and to live lives free of discrimination. Passions fly on immigration, but I don't know anyone who benefits when a mother is separated from her infant child or an employer undercuts American wages by hiring illegal workers. This too is part of America's promise - the promise of a democracy where we can find the strength and grace to bridge divides and unite in common effort.

Right on. Amen. And, the ending, where he had the flowing, melodic cadence, my sweet God, I was totally enthralled and entranced.

America, we cannot turn back. Not with so much work to be done. Not with so many children to educate, and so many veterans to care for. Not with an economy to fix and cities to rebuild and farms to save. Not with so many families to protect and so many lives to mend. America, we cannot turn back. We cannot walk alone. At this moment, in this election, we must pledge once more to march into the future. Let us keep that promise - that American promise - and in the words of Scripture hold firmly, without wavering, to the hope that we confess.

Maybe this is what's so poignant to me because hope is exactly what I confess when I confess my faith. [this is where things get sappy] Maybe another blog for another day but the reason I continue to cling to my faith in Jesus and a just and loving God is because I believe in hope. And I, like so many other people, had begun to feel like hope was lost. God seems to me to have blessed this man. And watching him up on that stage on the 45th anniversary of the Civil Rights march on Washington felt so much like the culmination of God's blessing on this country. That's how it felt to me. So, I'll close this blog in a little different order than Barack arranged his magnificent speech and end with this:

When Washington doesn't work, all its promises seem empty. If your hopes have been dashed again and again, then it's best to stop hoping, and settle for what you already know.

I get it. I realize that I am not the likeliest candidate for this office. I don't fit the typical pedigree, and I haven't spent my career in the halls of Washington.

But I stand before you tonight because all across America something is stirring. What the nay-sayers don't understand is that this election has never been about me. It's been about you.

For eighteen long months, you have stood up, one by one, and said enough to the politics of the past. You understand that in this election, the greatest risk we can take is to try the same old politics with the same old players and expect a different result. You have shown what history teaches us - that at defining moments like this one, the change we need doesn't come from Washington. Change comes to Washington. Change happens because the American people demand it - because they rise up and insist on new ideas and new leadership, a new politics for a new time.

The Change We Need

2008-08-28T10:51:00.000-07:00

I am so enthusiastic about what the Democrats are doing! President Bill Clinton and John Kerry and Joe Biden were totally terrific last night and I just can't wait to see Barack Obama tonight. I really have so much hope for this election and for the future of this country. I love the picture they've been painting of the middle class and our obligation to the environment. We are such a great party, these days. I just sat last night and watched each speech, one after the other, and I was brought to tears. I was shouting "Amen!" There just isn't an issue in my arsenal that they aren't addressing and I'm so pleased. The veteran who spoke last night, Tammy Duckworth, man alive, she had some wonderful things to say! I feel dramatically differently about these people than I did four years ago. I feel dramatically that they are right! That they will take this country in the direction it needs to go! I am glad to see the debate move away from the very important, but very contentious issues of the last election so that we can focus on things that everyone can get behind and that the government actually has (and should have) some power to control. Let's call moral issues what they are. I loved when Bill Clinton talked about how this nation's values have been degraded by Bush's policies:

I will never forget the parents of children with autism and other severe conditions who told me on the campaign trail that they couldn’t afford health care and couldn’t qualify their kids for Medicaid unless they quit work or got a divorce. Are these the family values the Republicans are so proud of? What about the military families pushed to the breaking point by unprecedented multiple deployments? What about the assault on science and the defense of torture? What about the war on unions and the unlimited favors for the well connected? What about Katrina and cronyism?

Oh, man! On the one hand, I'd love to have seen this sooner. On the other, hallelujah that it's finally come! I love it, I love it, I love it!

No way. No how. No McCain.

2008-08-27T10:26:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to talk about Hillary's speech and how much I liked it. I watched it on the internet. She did an excellent job with a somewhat difficult situation and I am really feeling better about things. In case you missed them, I'm going to put in some highlights:

And on that path to freedom, Harriett Tubman had one piece of advice.
If you hear the dogs, keep going.
If you see the torches in the woods, keep going.
If they're shouting after you, keep going.
Don't ever stop. Keep going.
If you want a taste of freedom, keep going.
Even in the darkest of moments, ordinary Americans have found the faith to keep going.

I'm not a big patriot and I've noticed that in the darkest of moments, lots of people have found the faith to keep going but, the presidency is about patriotism so I think it's fine in this context. I also found this quote to be inspirational for me in my own life. Keep going. If this applies to the people who, in this nation's history, had some of the least amount of reason to hope, surely it applies to me. Now, another one. The transcript says:

To restore America's standing in the world, to end the war in Iraq, bring our troops home and honor their service by caring for our veterans.

I think she said "bring our troops home WITH honor and give our veterans the care they have EARNED." Which, I thought was very powerful. In fact, the difference between the transcript quote and what Hillary actually said are the very words that made this quote powerful, because these are the things that we want that the current administration isn't doing. They may bring home the troops but will they do it in a way that makes them honored and will they remember them down the road, when they are disabled veterans?

So, all-in-all, I feel a shaky optimism. I was very disappointed about recent polling results but I'm looking forward to seeing more delicious home runs like this one. Great work, Hillary! Really great.

Hey, see if you "get me."

2008-08-26T11:12:00.001-07:00

http://www.youjustgetme.com/anaeromyxo

Just my manga

2008-08-22T09:53:00.000-07:00

I just saw my friend's manga and wanted one, so, here it is. I think it looks pretty good, myself.

Snores-ville

2008-08-18T06:04:00.000-07:00

I made this huge campaign a few months ago to tell my friends and family that I am very busy and exhausted and that they shouldn't necessarily expect me to attend events, when I clearly have so much going on, etc. I think it sank in because I just had the most boring weekend of my life since, you know, early high school, before I could drive. It was actually quite reminiscent of one of those weekends. Turning off the TV, draping oneself over the arm of the sofa, and proclaiming, "I'm bored!" as if there were people surrounding you whose job involves entertainment. I didn't get that far because my husband is in the midst of a fitness craze so I was constantly being dragged off of the sofa for runs and tiny meals. Stupid tiny meals. Being hungry makes boredom so much more dramatic (and vice versa). On Sunday, I finished a book and started a new one, practiced my oboe, finished all the laundry, cleaned the oven (oops, I think we left the oven shelves out on the back porch), went for a jog, re-read one of my manuscripts, went to the grocery store, prepared a few tiny meals, watched "Lars and the Real Girl" and "Smart People" and several episodes of the Gilmore Girls, and still had time on my hands to the point that I laid down for a nap and found I wasn't tired enough for a nap, having gotten plent of sleep the night before. So, I got up and tried to find something to do on the computer which, while occupying lots of my time at work, seemed totally un-interesting in the context of my living room. So, you may be wondering why I'm not working like a crazy person on my dissertation, yes, that sounds like something one may wonder. The reason is that I am currently not the rate-limiting step in this process. It's really quite a nice life, compared to my friends who have the enthusiastic and involved advisors. I'm just sort of taking it easy, waiting for my number to come up. Not so bad, actually.

Olympic events I have seen (with commentary)

2008-08-14T06:50:00.001-07:00

I do not like to stay up late and I do not know what the schedule for the various olympic events is. Also, I've noticed that, on my little guide associated with my cable service, there are two channels with big green bands that say, "Summer Olympics." This gives me very little to go on. The result is that my olympic experience has been somewhat random, not unlike the rest of my life, some might point out.

So, the random olympic events I have enjoyed are as follows: swimming (400M IM), women's beach volleyball, women's archery, dressage, featherweight boxing, men's and women's team gymnastics, synchronized diving, men's whitewater canoing and men's basketball.

I'm going to remark on my most memorable events, starting with the most surreal. Dressage, according to Wikipedia, is "a path and destination of competitive horse training, with competitions held at all levels from amateur to the Olympics." When I turned on the dressage competition, I thought that the horse and rider were warming up, until I heard the cheers and applause and some scores came up on the screen. This sport has a rider that wears a very fancy outfit and involves a lot of what I might call, "prancing about." There's a fancy "arena" with letters and markings and the horse and rider sort of scoot around, in, when you watch more than one rider you realize, turn out to be very precise ways. According to Wikipedia,

"The standard dressage arena letters are A-K-V-E-S-H-C-M-R-B-P-F. (There is speculation as to why these letters were chosen. Most commonly it is believed because the German cavalry had a 20 x 60 meter area in between the barracks which had the letters posted above the doors). "

I find this sport to be very strange. I only believe that it's hard work because the fancily dressed riders were all out of breath at the end of each performance. Strange.

Next up, women's archery. Fascinating. Korea won. Apparently there wasn't a doubt in anyone's mind. The Chinese women behaved in a very relaxed and jovial way during the final round. The bows are enormous and they bring the string back against their mouths, which makes me imagine that I would be anal about keeping my string clean. The Korean women had very child-like accoutrements. Shoulder guards with pink panda bears, etc.

Finally, I would like to talk about the gymnastics floor exercises. I feel very unhappy about the people who step out of the boundary. This is judged as a heinous crime with a penalty that is all out of proportion with the difficulty of the rest of the performance and I disapprove. I guess, when things are so close to perfect, there has to be some way to separate people. Maybe it's time to add flames and carnivorous animals to this sport. Also, I would like to make a big fuss about how good Yang Wei is.

OK, now I've lost interest in my own post, so, surely that's a sign. I have work to do.

hahaha

2008-08-07T05:55:00.001-07:00

The only thing funnier than my being frustrated because I'm 96% female is my husband's score. I told him that he could trust me, because he was reluctant to tell me, so I'm not posting it. Nor will I post the macy's website visit that did him in . Teeheehee. I feel so much better. He pointed out to me that ESPN.com, MLB.com, and the cage fighting website didn't make it into the calculation but that those websites would clearly signify his manhood. TEEheeheehee. He had the grudgereport and cnn on there, which gives him strong man points so you can only imagine how he was impacted by his own search for a gym bag . Clearly he should have left it up to me...also he looked at his new shoes online because he's in love with them. TEEheeheehee. Looking at shoes, even man shoes, makes you a woman. Any sort of shopping at all, apparently. Oh, geez, this makes me happy. Sorry, pumpkin, if you're reading this (and I suspect you aren't), you should just take pleasure in the fact that I'm happy. You want me to be happy, right? [gales of laughter ensue.]

Uncomfortable truths

2008-08-06T06:19:00.000-07:00

I'll start with the lighthearted truth I learned this morning. I use the internet very much like a woman. It's the shopping. I would like to point out that, at Land's End, I purchased a gym bag for my husband...but that probably makes this even more true because that's how much he doesn't shop online. Anyway, based on the test found here, I'm almost all woman:

Likelihood of you being FEMALE is 96%
Likelihood of you being MALE is 4%

Site	Male-Female Ratio
google.com	0.98
yahoo.com	0.9
wikipedia.org	1.08
mapquest.com	0.83
facebook.com	0.83
blogger.com	1.06
weather.com	1.08
bankofamerica.com	0.9
homedepot.com	0.94
rockyou.com	0.46
shutterfly.com	0.67
hallmark.com	0.52
hotmail.com	0.83
llbean.com	0.68
landsend.com	0.64
gatech.edu	1.06

Apparently, "rock you" is associated with facebook. I don't think I should have to take that score twice. I think that the only sites that get included are the ones that are in that top 10k sites website. I'm annoyed. I feel somewhat androgenous but, whatever.

This brings me to another realization I had today. Along the lines of "He's Just Not That Into You," there should maybe be a book for the complaining graduate students of the world called, "You're Just Not Doing That Good of a Job" or maybe, "You're Just Not All That Smart." This happens to me occassionally. I somehow get an outside perspective and realize that part of my trouble is that I'm sort of in way over my head. I have a long history of getting myself to this point by hook or by crook and now I'll graduate the same way. My former office mate and I were constantly complaining about how hard it is to get my advisor to submit one of our papers and how his standards are just so ridiculous. So I gave my paper to the office mate to read. After sort of a long time, he sent it back to me with what can only be described as an email cringe. Here's a quote:

"I have tried to offer you honest, constructive criticism that I believe will improve the manuscript...I think that you have an interesting story, but the manuscript needs some additional work before the data and significance become clear. Please don't hate me."

So, really, in short, "You're the problem, in this case." Anyway, I've got coffee and big plans to fix this. It kind of makes me feel empowered to realize that the ball is in my court. The ironic thing is that my "difficult" advisor was super nice to me about this particular paper. We had a meeting and he was enthusiastic and he reminded me that the other paper is almost done and that I'm on my way. Take all this together and what do you get? The problem is ME! This is like when I study my ass off and get an F on an exam while my study partners make A's. It's not the material so much as the receptacle. I'm re-examining my committee meeting and all the dum-dums my advisor has employed in the past and thinking that the committee must have all been sitting there thinking, "If only there had been a committee meeting sooner, we could have suggested that this sweet young thing leave with a master's. She probably spends her time surfing the internet for gym bags to buy her husband."

Sigh. Now I need to start the blog about why I am so disappointed to find out that I'm an internet woman and how that links in my head to my difficulties with science. Totally fucked up, right? Sigh again.

...but you weren't actually THE nerd

2008-08-05T05:59:00.000-07:00

I was listening to This American Life on podcast. Ira Glass started out talking about how, while people are always claiming to have been a nerd in high school, it's often because we don't remember who the actual nerds were. We were maybe not necessarily popular, or maybe we only had a handful of friends, but few of us were the nerds. The pariahs with no friends at all. The ones who would taint you for spending time with them. The ones you saw every day, remembering your lessons from Sunday school, and seriously doubting that your Sunday school teacher realized what she was saying when she suggested that you spend time with this kid. I mean, sure, you didn't participate in taunting him...until maybe he danced with you in gym class in front of the alpha dogs...and what were you supposed to do? You didn't taunt, anyway, you just sort of crumpled your nose. You wouldn't have made things better for the nerd. You weren't popular enough for that. You just would have caused a scene, dragging the innocent nerd down even further, and plummeting along with him. I say, "him" because I don't recall any female pariahs at my school. Actually, I can think of one girl who wore her girl scout uniform to school all the way through high school and surprised no one when, on the announcements, we found out she had a scholarship from the Juliette Lowe foundation. But it wasn't the same for the girl scout. People generally just ignored her and she had some friends, some fellow matronly and out-dated friends. Maybe it was because I didn't know her in elementary school when the serious nerd pummelling happened, and maybe being ignored is just as bad, but boy nerds, that was the stuff of serious abuse. I, of course, can't say the name of the nerd I knew, the bottom-of-the-barrel nerd who was absolutely always an untouchable, regardless of his age or stage, the nerd that I never saw spending time with anyone else at all, but I know his name. First and last. I can't think of the popular kids' names, they changed in status every year, but the nerd reigned supreme for my entire 7 years in that city, elementary through high school, on and on and on. There was one week, in 6th grade, during which a different kid actually pooped in his pants, that nerd number 1 lost his throne, and it only took one slip-up, leaving his fly undone while wearing no underpants, for him to regain it. I remember so many things about him. I wonder what he does now. He liked computers and he played the clarinet and he's every nerd everywhere except that, somehow, he was alone. He was the only one who was just that bad, in the entire school. Actually, as the schools got bigger, with more students, I suspect that he gained some anonymity. Probably, there were other elementary schools' nerds in my high school that I just didn't know. I just don't remember my nerd having any friends. I think of the movies, the 16 candles, etc., with groups of nerds, and I don't remember a group. Just the lone kid.

One of those question emails

2008-08-04T05:52:00.000-07:00

Since Emily did the blog response and I blog and since, really, this is a way more efficient way to play this game than the whole, "send this back to everyone you know including the person who sent it to you" thing, here goes:

1. What time did you get up this morning? 6:00. It's summer and we decided that we don't like going to bed when it's still light outside so, we've shifted to 6am instead of 5am for now, maybe forever.

2. Diamonds or Pearls? Oh, I don't know. I don't like the situation in South Africa so, I'll say pearls. I certainly don't wear these sorts of things, outside of my heirloom diamond engagement ring which, actually, is stored away for safe keeping until I can get the prongs fixed. I can't be trusted with expensive things.

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? I can't remember...I want to see Wall*E very much. I saw Sweeney Todd in the theatre, that may be the last thing.

4. What is your favorite TV show? Hahaha. In the context of my blog, this is a very funny question. I can pick a currently running TV show and say Project Runway or What not to Wear but, we all know my favorite TV show of all time.

5. What do you usually have for breakfast? Cereal with fruit or a smoothie or something with peanut butter on it.

6. What is your middle name? Henry now. Used to be Jane.

7. What food do you dislike? Meat with bits. Heterogeneities. Gray areas, as the Wendy's commercial says. Any sort of skin, veins, bones, etc.

8. What is your favorite CD at the moment? "7x7x7" by the Sugarplastics and "Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?" by the Unicorns

9. What kind of car do you drive? Toyota Matrix.

10. Favorite sandwich? The one from the IBB coffee cart guy with the fresh squishy crusty bread and the avocado and ham and mayo and mixed greens and "all the veg."

11 What characteristic do you despise? If you've been watching Project Runway, you're familiar with the "rock'n'roll" lady who is constantly saying "Who's going to help me?" "Can I get some help?" "Is anyone finished with their's so they can help me?" No one's helping anyone else. Just do the thing and stop whining.

12. Favorite item of clothing? Would you make me pick my favorite child? I guess that I would say that my tapestry-esque wrap skirt is my favorite because it keeps me from being hot while not revealing my legs, about which I am self-conscious. Ask again in winter.

13. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? If I could utilize wormhole technology and go there without having to fly for a zillion years, I would like to go to New Zealand. The problem is that, after all the flying, I wouldn't feel all that relaxed, I suspect. Maybe I would like to go to the rural Welsh countryside except that I'm concerned that I wouldn't like the food. I also don't like when I don't speak the language of wherever I am. I'd like to know some locals.

14. Are you an organized person? More than some, less than others.

15. Where would you like to retire to? Home. Don't ask me where that will be.

16. What was your most recent memorable birthday? I think the pirate ship birthday cake, when my mom was still alive. Somehow, losing one's mom makes birthdays sort of depressing.

17. What are you going to do when you finish this? Work on the suggestions that my advisor just made regarding my oxygen manuscript.

18. Furthest place you are sending this to? It's the internet, so, as far as the imagination will reach, I guess.

19. Person you expect to send it back first? I think I'm the end of the line this time.

20. When is your next birthday? 65

21. Morning person or night person? I like that I'm allowed to drink coffee in the mornings. It's a vice that I don't have to feel guilty about...yet...

22. What is your shoe size? I would say that this is maybe the least interesting question that can be asked of someone. There is nothing to be gleaned based on someone's shoe size. I wear a 9. It's the same as Lorelai Gilmore, which I know from the episode where Luke is ordering boat supplies and Lorelai makes him order her some boots so that she can look like the Morton's Salt Girl. Actually, Lorelai said "size 9" and Luke said, into the phone, "and some fishing boots, size 9." Was that because the book was a women's fishing supply book or because Lorelai actually wears a women's size 10.5? Because he didn't specify that they should be a women's size 9 or that they were women's fishing boots. Therefore, I'm going to conclude that Lorelai actually wears a 10.5-11. Now I will proceed to scan future episodes for inconsistencies on this issue.

23. Pets? Two cats. Wyatt and Chloe. Yin and yang. Friendly and loner, Light and dark, fluffy and sleek.

24. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share? I'm never going to graduate! Yay! Surprise!

25. What did you want to be when you were little? Nothing in particular. My sister, I guess. I wanted to be a popular and cool high school person. Cyndi Lauper, maybe?

26. How are you today? Fatigued and angry that my husband forced beer down my throat last night.

27. What is your favorite flower? I like them together. Groups of various flowers in various shades. I don't particularly like carnations or the regular little daisies when they're cut but I like them when they're still in the ground. My wedding flowers were absolutely perfect.

28. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to? My defense, actually, the day after my defense. It wanders around but it's on the calendar between September and October sometime.

29. What are you listening to right now? Leaf blowers outside my window.

30. What was the last thing you ate? Cereal with blueberries. Kashi GoLean crunch.

31. Do you wish on stars? It's been a long time since I've seen the stars, part because I live in the city, part because I don't go out at night, part because I'm painfully unromantic and just don't look up very often.

32. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Lilac

33. How is the weather right now? Sunny, pretty hot. Humid.

34. Last person I spoke to on the phone? Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. I checked "Recently dialed, Missed, and Received."

35. Favorite soft drink? Dr. Pepper

36. Favorite restaurant? Very hard to choose. I'll say Udipi, the Indian place near my house.

37. Hair color? Brown/gray

38. What was your favorite toy as a child? My sister's things. Milky the milk cow, specifically.

39. Summer or Winter? It's hard to say summer during August in Atlanta but I like Summer, for the most part.

40. Chocolate or Vanilla? It depends on what the thing is.

41. Coffee or tea? Coffee.

42. Do you want your friends to email you back? Yes, or post on their respective blogs.

43. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday during church when someone sang, "In the Garden." Everything makes me cry.

44. What is under your bed? Plastic drawers that hold T-shirts, tank tops, and small t-shirts.

45. What did you do last night? Drank beer at the bar near my house while talking to some conservative neighbors about pets.

46. What are you afraid of? Being alone.

47. Salty or sweet? It depends.

48. How many keys on your key ring? I have two key rings. 5 lab keys and about 5 car/house keys (different cars, different houses)

49. How many years at your current job? An eternity. More than I can count.

50. Favorite day of the week? Sunday.

51. Do you make friends easily? Yes

52. How many people will you send this to? How many people read this blog? Somewhere between 5 and 10.

53. How many will respond? I don't really know.

54. Do you like finding out all this stuff about your friends? Yes.

Hello? Hello-o?

2008-08-01T06:13:00.001-07:00

I keep checking my blog for updates...see how that's funny? Because, for there to be an update--you get it, right? Anyway, one of the ugliest downsides of taking 6.5 years to finish my PhD is that all my friends have abandoned me and I'm all alone. So, it's most pronounced now that my officemate has left. It's an office for four but one of the desks has been allocated for someone who doesn't actually come to work and the other one belongs to one of these night-owl people. So, I come in at my regular time and spend several hours all alone. I keep forgetting that there are people out there, in the other offices, in the laboratory, on other floors. It's like being stranded on a desert island to be alone in an office for four. I don't know the people in the adjacent offices so I have to walk a long way to find someone to talk to. I don't even turn on the lights because Ben always did that when he came in. It used to get on my nerves, years ago, before we got our rhythm down. I would come in, and maybe not be totally ready for full-on lights and then Ben would come in ten minutes later and flip on the lights without asking me if I left them off intentionally. Now Ben is gone and I left my lights off all day yesterday...sad, right? I never did get around to turning them on. And, I mean, the night owl's not going to do it. She works in the lab all day so, really, this is just a storage depot for her stuff. She came in yesterday afternoon to eat her lunch (around 3:30) and I talked to her the entire time. She was very friendly and pretended that she was interested, instead of edging toward the door to get back to work. But, as soon as I stopped talking, she hopped up and jetted back into the lab...boo. I NEED to graduate...

Hey! Did you miss me?

2008-07-29T17:39:00.000-07:00

I was on a cruise. A cruise from Tampa to Cozumel and back. I thought about nothing outside of whether I was going to have a pina colada rather than more champagne. It was the most relaxing thing I've ever done. Here's how it went: With our passports and laminated color copies of our passports, my husband and I and both of his parents bucked up and packed light and all four squeezed into his parents' Prius, along with all our stuff, and drove to Tampa. How's that for patriotism during an oil crisis? So, anyway, there was a cozy road trip with barbeque in Tifton, GA, and lots of good long leaf pine sightings as we drove south. We stayed overnight at a La Quinta Inn near the pier, which was quite nice with a little courtyard and lots of excited anticipation. We had delicious Cuban food for lunch in Ybor City and then there was some minor chaos associated with getting on the ship but it was no big deal. Comparable to a domestic flight. Now comes the cruise:

The minute we stepped on the boat, we were escorted to the pool deck and given booze while we waited for our rooms to be ready. The drink was called a "funship" and, let me tell you, it was fun. As soon as we got to our rooms, we popped into our swimsuits and headed out to the hot tub. Here's a word of warning: They apparently clean (i.e., shock with chemicals) the various hot tubs and swimming pools between cruises. If you hop into your swimsuit the minute you get to your room, you risk bleaching it out in the hot tub. Fortunately, the cruise people were nice and gave us a $50 credit. Actually, this is just the beginning of how incredibly nice all of the cruise people were. I've never had such nice service in my life. Everyone was so so nice. I'm just waiting to find out that Carnival cruise lines has horrible labor policies and that I should feel guilty for all my good times. That's the only way I will ever keep from cruising every day of my life. I love this shit. There's all this ocean all the time and, while the food is only so so, it's available all the time and, in the dining room, with such elaborate ceremony. It's not bad food, it's just, you know, fine. Like a really good Picadilly. Anyway, they clean your room twice a day and when they turn down the covers at night, they make a little towel animal with chocolate mint eyes. That other stuff on the bed is the schedule of activities for the next day. And the water slides are so much fun. And the ocean. The shore excursion would have been nice had we gone somewhere besides Cozumel. They can't help it if I don't particularly like my destination. I can fix that be selecting a different cruise. So, long story short, I left Atlanta thinking, "I don't know how I can afford to be away for five days." and by day three, I was thinking, "Surely I can't be expected to go back!" It was simply the most relaxing thing I've ever done in my life.

"Hillarious" jokes about Obama

2008-07-18T06:13:00.001-07:00

So, of course my post from yesterday has context. It is this: Occasionally people make jokes about Obama and occasionally those jokes are completely tasteless and utterly upsetting for the majority of the population. This crazy cartoon on the cover of the New Yorker is difficult to understand. Now, it's funny that just last week my father and I were talking about how people are always making little quips about how the cartoons in the New Yorker are over their heads. I'm always thinking that maybe I'm missing something because I don't find the jokes difficult to understand so much as not always funny. Enter this cartoon. I've got to be missing something here. I mean, I like John Stewart very much but he was going on and on about how the popular media has exaggerated the severity of this cartoon. It's just a cartoon, he was saying, what's everyone getting so worked up about? (I'm paraphrasing so I didn't use quotation marks. Is that right?) I really think that this cartoon is terrible. Some have called it "tasteless and revolting" and I think it is. It is racist, these people and I agree, to use racial and ethnic stereotypes in this context, even if there is some back-and-forth switch-a-roo in which the cartoonist is making fun of the way that the conservative media is portraying this couple. Knowing that The New Yorker is a liberal publication, I'm assuming that the old switch-a-roo is what's going on here. I think the problem has to do with the fact that not everyone is in on the joke. Also, there is the fact that the joke isn't all that funny in the first place. So, this is what the whole, "We're not allowed to make jokes about Obama," story was referring to. One super bad-taste joke spoiling the whole bushel. I'm going to say, to those who are now saying that Obama can't take a joke, that the problem isn't with Obama and his constituents so much as, in this case, a really really bad joke. I guess that even liberals have forgotten that Muslims actually count when we're talking about not throwing around stereotypes.

So, here's where I bring it all together, linking today's post with yesterday's: As I see it, there are at least two camps among the people that I know. One of these camps holds John Stewart and Jimmy Kimmel (I think) and involves people who think that this New Yorker cartoon and other Sarah Silverman-style humor that is blatantly bringing out racist stereotypes, that just puts all the cards on the table, is one of the steps toward opening up our minds to each other. That this sort of thing helps us to move forward. In opposition is the other camp which, I suspect, holds those who may have heard or remember having heard, lots of racist and oppressive things being said in earnest and with hate. These people are smart people and understand that the new version of humor that we're talking about is satirizing that hateful sort of talk but they also have noticed that the new humor is the same as the old humor and that a lot of hard work and dilligent awareness-making went into getting to where we are today, where this sort of thing is uncommon. History matters, say these people.

SO (drumroll please), I think that it is the war between these two camps that maybe keeps down jokes about Obama. There are the New Yorker cartoonist-types rattling to make the obvious jokes that no one is comfortable hearing (and that many people are actually dramatically offended by). Then there are the people who are saying, "Forget race. Let's make fun of how he's a picky eater. That's funny." (i.e., Maureen Down). The problem with this compromise is that, no matter how we want to think differently, it's very hard for people to laugh at picky eater jokes and ignore what is probably an elephant in the living room, in terms of the offensive jokes. So, that, I think, is what Jimmy Kimmel was referring to when he said, "reverse racism." Right? He means that people are totally tied in knots over the race issue and can't figure out what to do about it. So, it's racism that causes folks not to make jokes about Obama. But, it's "reverse racism" because it's a weird and convoluted 21st century racism that people don't quite understand. Is that what he meant?

Definition, please...

2008-07-17T07:57:00.000-07:00

It's been a funny presidential race so far, right? Or, as the new york times op-ed columnist Maureen Dowd points out, a not funny race. She, and other people apparently, suggest that the reason there haven't been very many jokes made about the Democratic candidate is because Barack Obama is black. So far, everything about the election has been because Barack Obama is black. John Lewis ran contended for the first time in a billion elections because he is also black and he supported Hillary Clinton initially. (Oh, wait, of course you're right. Not everything about the election has been because Barack Obama is black. There's also the fact that Hillary Clinton is a woman.) Everyone is very cautious but everyone, particularly the public opinion mass-entity referred to as the media, is in love with the easy shot. Give the candidates a quick once-over. Just open your eyes and then close them again. Now, make your judgements. Al Gore has a tan, go. Now he's gained weight, go. John Kerry has a long face and he's boring, go go go. Barack Obama is, holy shit, he's black! Can't see...can't notice anything else...blinded by unexpected race...
Jimmy Kimmel apparently referred to peoples' reluctance to make fun of Barack Obama as "reverse racism." Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but, does the term "reverse racism" seem racist to anyone else? Here's the Merriam-Webster definition of racism:

Main Entry:: rac·ism

Pronunciation:
\ˈrā-ˌsi-zəm also -ˌshi-\

Function:: noun
Date:: 1933

1 : a belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capacities and that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race 2 : racial prejudice or discrimination — rac·ist \-sist also -shist\ noun or adjective

(Did you notice that the term "racism" got its start in 1933? So, just before the second world war, during the depression. Fascinating.) What, pray tell, makes this situation reverse racism? The fact that people are so afraid that their racism will surface that they're overcompensating by just not talking at all? Or is Mr. Kimmell somehow implying that black people, in general, are immune to media ridicule while white people suffer this sort of abuse on a daily basis and that this is unfair? Thus using one of the classical interpretations of "reverse racism," which is when white people are discriminated against in a horrible turn of unjust misunderstanding of the "reality," which is that white people are better than everyone else. Or maybe Mr. Kimmell calls this reverse racism because he is implying that we all like this man exclusively because he's black and not because he's the first politician in most of our lifetimes who has made it so far in politics while still speaking in plain straightforward language as if everyone listening actually has a brain in his/her head?
I'm here to promote the other thesis set forth by Ms. Dowd (and apparently Bill Carter):

because many in [comedians' and satirists'] audiences are intoxicated by him and resistant to seeing him skewered

At this point, Maureen suggests that, if we elect someone who isn't bafoonish to the point of absurdity, "it won’t be the economy that’s depressed. It will be the rest of us." I beg to differ Ms. Dowd. I'm looking forward to an administration where we can comfort ourselves by knowing that our future as Americans is secure, rather than having to resort to making a list of all the stupid things our president has said so that we can laugh instead of putting a gun in our collective mouth.

The seven 'g's of grounding

2008-07-15T08:23:00.000-07:00

Writing is a very head-intensive process. Meaning that a person stays in her own mind all day every day, to the point that insanity can ensue. Friends of mine in the writing process have had such body and soul-neglective side effects as: constant shivering no matter how warm the room, extreme weight loss, frequent crying, and residual unprecedented lack of lust for life. Remembering what I do about my dear mother's lessons in the mind/body/soul balance, these symptoms are indicative of severe mind-centric imbalance. So, in such fond memory of my incredible mother (whom I miss so much every day) and her new age ways, my aunt (Mom's sister) and I came up with my seven 'g's of grounding: (1) This one you can guess. Go ahead, there are two 'g's...yes, Gilmore Girls. This, the first of the 'g's has to do with turning off the active mind and shifting science to the subconscious via marathons of my favorite pair of saucy ladies and their fight-the-man antics. See, I knew it counted as work. There is so much mental and creative processing that occurs in the subconscious mind. I swear to you that this is true. It was in the New York Times. (2) The next 'g' is a bit of a stretch but it refers to my blog. I call it "gushing." It also includes long emails to friends, phone calls, angry explosions in the car with my sweet and understanding husband, and the venting-sessions in hallways and offices of all of my coworkers. (3) Gardening is an obvious tool for grounding. Sometimes, as I recall, these things are quite literal. So, the square-foot gardening, and eating the cucumbers and tomatoes harvested from my own yard, have been counted as the third 'g.' (4) The gym. You may be noticing a theme, in that I've blogged about all of these 'g's before but I've only recently "grouped" them. Hehe. That's another 'g'. (5) Grooming. Aunt Becky thought of this 'g' for describing the pedicure I got yesterday afternoon as well as the pricey haircuts that I maintain as one of my last pieces of luxury freight to throw overboard when it comes time to pinch pennies. (6) Guacamole. Let me hear you say "Oh, yeah!" Margaritas also count in this category because I consume the two items together. And the seventh 'g' of grounding is (7) Games. This includes facebook wordtwist and scrabulous as well as a crazy set of kids games I found on my new computer called "Purble Place." Don't judge me until you've tried these delightful and brightly colored games. They're harder than they look. Now, I have to say that I feel very proud of Aunt Becky and me for coming up with these things. I really think that Mom would endorse our work. Also, Mom, if you're reading this from wherever you are, notice that we used "seven" things. "Seven" is an important and non-patriarchal number, unlike the evil "ten" utilized by what's-his-name on late night TV (please, as if I'm up at that time of night).

Welcome family, please ignore the curse words.

2008-07-14T06:58:00.000-07:00

I have just reminded my beloved family about my blog. I reviewed my posts to ensure that I wouldn't be embarassed by myself and I think it's fine, aside from curse-words and that post down there about bras (it's an informative post for the ladies, but, if you're a dude, you can skip it). So, what I'm going to do now is put a giant smiling picture of me and remind my family how much they love me. There, it's me and Wyatt. We love you...Wyatt loves everyone who is willing to hug him.