The Kickball Diaries, volume 2.

Week 2. Kitshickers vs The Hustlerz.
Game time: 4/24/2008, 6:30pm
Game Conditions: sunny, warm, windy.
Result: W 10-0
Record: 1-1

I told you I could smell a win. Ok, I wrote that last one already knowing the outcome. We were totally awesome - if the score doesn't suggest as much. I had some choice plays, as per usual. Here's the favorite. I made it to first, in fact the way I made it to first on this play escapes me, since I made it to first on two occasions. Perhaps this was when I walked? Oh yes, that was it. I struck out the first time, and this second time I was up I asked the ref to draw the "batters box" on the ground so I knew where it was. Which helped, as I then walked! The guy behind me, BMc, kicked it real far, and I was off. Rounded second, and third. A quick look back told me I could probably make it to home. RO'D was the first base coach, and he was telling me to run. Our "manager" was the third base coach, he was even telling me to run. CH, another fellow bostonian and die-hard was closer to home, also telling me to go. I glanced back again as I was running, knowing full well I could make it, but depending on how hard they threw it, there may be a play. I was ready. Now, I will blame something on the ground. But on one step half way between 3rd and home my foot went in a direction I was not expecting. Perhaps a little further down, or slightly inclined in a ditch, it's hard to say. But, it didn't do what I thought, and my entire right leg wobbled. But - I was running at lightning speed, it was tough to recover. There was some stumbling, and a whole lot of arm waving, windmill style, trying to keep myself upright. At this point all I'm thinking is, 'they'll never believe there was something on the ground'. To my right, our "manager" has visibly given up on me. To my far left RO'D may be unable to breath through fits of laughter. Between him and CH I see the team, in hysterics. And I hear CH's booming voice "STAY UP UNTIL YOU CROSS THE PLATE!" I run hard, arms flailing, and I cross the plate - never once falling over. I stopped and turned, to witness BMc doing the same exact thing I just did. It was something on the ground, and about 5 steps behind me he also was flailing and windmilling trying to stay up. Hysterics warranted.

On a second choice play, I decided to kick the ball (although I think it would have been a ball had I left it alone), it was outside to the left of the box. Now, what I decided t do with this pitch was to run a few steps up and kick it with my left foot (I'm a righty). This shocked me as it happened, and the fact the the ball sailed over towards third shocked me even more. Now, what confused me was that I had the weight on the wrong foot and was a little stuck trying to run out of the box. I made it to first seconds too late, and CH - the first base coach now - said to me "Hey, Jenni, next time just don't stop when you kick it". Thanks coach, I'll work on that!

Also, a highlight of the day was the birthday celebration for RO'D himself. Happy Birthday little buddy. I take credit for the win, it was definitely the birthday cupcakes that I brought! For sure!

The Kickball Diaries, volume 1.

Week 1. Kitshickers vs 99 Problems but a Pitch ain't one.
Game time: 4/17/2008, 7:20pm
Game Conditions: It's hard to remember, but I'm sure it was hot, and dusk.
Result: L 4-1
Record: 0-1

Our league is a coed league, and there are inevitably rules about how many girls must play, a separate bunt line for the girls, and just a general feeling of how we can "even things" out to make up for the girls being crap players. It's a mindset that I hate. It implies that merely because I am a girl I will be one of the worst players, or worse that merely because someone else is a guy he will be a force. Just, untrue. Maybe. We began going over the rules, and our "manager" was explaining some things, pointing out the bunt line for the girls, telling me that as the center fielder I should come in when a girl was kicking, and informing me that my only strategy when at bat was to just try and kick it on the ground towards 3rd so I'd have a shot at getting on base. Well, I launched in to a diatribe about how girls can be good players too - how these rules were crap, how I could try and aim to kick a gosh-darn homerun if I felt compelled. He shrugged me off, and I took the field. RO'D was sitting out first, and watched the following transpire from the sidelines.

It was the first play I was going to make as a kickball-er, and let me just preface with...that ball is HUGE. It's about 3 times bigger than you are picturing in your head right now. It is red, similar to the one you probably used in elementary school - but bigger. Some guy kicks the ball to the outfield, it's totally mine, I'm all over it. And then....then this happened. I looked up, and this enormous ball was falling towards my face and I quickly realized I had NO IDEA what to do about it, not a clue. So, I closed my eyes, screamed a bit, and swatted erratically at the air. I shouldn't have to add (but I will) that I didn't even touch the ball at all, it went behind me. I turned and ran to it, picked it up, and half rolled, half overhanded it somewhere towards the in-field. Not nearly close enough to do anything reasonable. I think that guy was standing on third picking his nose by the time I finished with the ball. After that I brushed my shoulder off, and patted myself on the back for single-handedly undermining the integrity of female kickball-ers everywhere. When the inning was over RO'D slyly said to me, "Um, did you close your eyes?!" By the end of the game I was feeling it a little better - I knocked a few down, held some people from scoring, although I never once made a catch.

Behind the plate, the entire team was dead. It was my first at bat, and I walked over to home plate - instantly scared crapless - what would happen here, any one's guess. There was a radio nearby blastin' out some tunes, and while it was not my original theme song the new Madonna song, 4 minutes, came on. (Quick interruption - I've been obsessed with this song lately, listening to it maybe 6 times a day while dancing in my office) So as soon as I heard this I screamed over to RO'D - "This is the song I've been dancing to in my office all week", forgetting that I work in the same building as everyone else on the team. They all begin to laugh at me, as I danced my way into my first out. I finished the day 0 for 2 behind the plate.

But damn it all if I didn't have a ton of fun while doing it! Go Kitshickers, I smell a win soon....

apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur

Let me take you back a bit, to a simpler time, about 4 weeks ago. This is when I joined a kickball team. It's a team that has played together before - with some new additions this time around, namely me and RO'D. We call ourselves The Kitshickers, and we wear navy blue shirts, and drink beers as we run the bases and cause general mayhem. As per usual, I don't get out of this experience without doing something completely absurd, so I've decided to institute a weekly series, an account of sorts, of exactly what embarrassing thing I've done to keep my entire team laughing at me for another week!

Introducing...The Kickball Diaries. The first order of business was to select an "at bat" song, which questionably worked out for me.

A healthy dose of crazy!

If you've been keeping up with my life as of late (unblogged, of course) you know there has been an unhealthy dose of crazy infiltrating the scene. But, Monday - we had the healthy kind, and it was refreshing, albeit endangering at some points. I left my office and headed to my car, on my way the phone rang. It was LR, and she was at Spiderhouse. Since my car was parked right by there, I stopped by to hang for a bit. We were seated in this back area, that's up on a little stage, and under a roof. The roof is actually sheets of metal siding, or something like that. We were talking and I kept being distracted by this guy who was tugging and hanging on the structure holding up the roof. It was very shaky - I thought maybe he was inspecting it. Then, he climbed on this rusty table and I gasped. (SIDE NOTE: It's the mismatchy, rusted, outdoor furniture that gives spiderhouse it's charm) He assured me he was ok, and I warned him that the table was rotting out from under his feet.

So, he climbed down and went away. Story over. Or, not quite.

This back stage area is, well, at the back of Spiderhouse's outdoor area, and behind it there is a house (maybe its a business in a house, I don't actually know) with a 2nd story deck. This guy is now scaling the deck, and hoisting himself up onto the railing. LR and I are staring, as are the two girls at the one other table under the roof. He stood around for a bit, and so we carried on our conversation. Until.

The whole structure we were sitting under began shaking, VIOLENTLY. And then you just heard a bunch of cracking and metal flexing. As I glanced up, I could see the roof bending under the guy who was now crawling over it. I began to laugh, and the two girls at the other table quickly fled the scene. He crawled across the whole roof, leaving full-grown-man-sized dents on his way. He stopped when he was directly above my head. At this point everyone in the patio is staring at him, and us. He peeks down from above and smiles and says "Don't worry, I'll be ok!" I refrained from telling him I was actually worried about myself.

There was another round of shaking and crunching, and I can only imagine that this is when he decided to stand up. Next thing you know, he is in the palm tree that is adjacent to the roof. He spends some time shaking the tree a bit, and climbs back to the roof. Again peeking down at me, "Don't worry I won't fall". He laid down on the roof, bending it worse, and put his arms into the tree. This complicated little dance went on for what seemed like an eternity - mostly because no one was able to do anything but stare in disbelief. It was probably something like 8 minutes.

When he was done, he crawled back across the roof, more dents, and dismounted onto the railing of the porch. In his hand, a foot and a half piece of palm frond, his hard-earned treasure. He held it proudly, showed it to us, and grinned. So much work, for what?! A palm frond, not even a full one. A piece of a tree, which he also could have ripped off the lower portions of the tree from the ground, in fact I could have ripped off a matching piece without even moving from my chair.

He walked over to an empty table, prize in hand, smiling to everyone. He sat down, still clutching the leaf, for a while. Then, he placed it on the table and walked away. I'll never understand what happened, and I will forever notice the dents in the roof at Spiderhouse. But, somehow, in light of everything else - this man's crazy, was something I could totally get on board with. Palm fronds for everyone!

my allegiance

Some people were curious to know how I was feeling going into tonight's big game, perhaps rightly so. Let me start with, living down here, my allegiance has quickly grown to be almost solely to two things, the Red Sox (ALWAYS) and Bevo. So, needless to say, I'm still sad that UT couldn't cut it. But, I was happy to see our Big 12 companions KU doing so great. And, I will always be a fan of great games. The Jayhawks had some of the best games this whole madness, tonight certainly tops them all. Rockchalk Jayhawks everywhere. But watch out - football's around the corner, Punks!

(...it's no Eyes of Texas!)

cry for help

Mia hit rock bottom one night last week. I mean, she had literally been crying for help for a few days, "mmmrrrrrewwww. mmmmmmrrrrrreeeeewwwww! mmmew mmmew mmmmmreeeeewww!" And I do what I can to entertain her, but sweetie - mama's busy. I know you feel ignored, I know you're lonely, but...

That night, I didn't have the heart to stop her, I just let her throw her kitty tantrum. She climbed up on a bookshelf in my room and pushed all the books off. She climbed on to the shelf above, and pushed the random piles of stuff off (Dallas DVDs, notecards, piles of receipts, the like...). It woke me up, of course. I wished she wasn't doing it. But...I didn't stop her. I let her freak out. When she was done, I got up and dragged her onto my bed. I tried to stay awake to pet her, I did. But it was 4am, and I was sleepy. So the petting faded quickly, and she became more angry.

Up on top of my dresser, and down go my glasses, some candles, my cell phone. So again, I pulled her on to the bed. This time, everything fell asleep except for my hand, which made a perpetual petting motion - and seemed to help.

She's been ok since. Although, she's scratching the hell out of my couch. I mean, there are holes in it now. So, that's great. I tried cutting her nails, and she punctured my thigh with a back claw. Tonight I'll try and pull out some old toys that have been in hiding and see if this helps. But really, it's been a battle - and I'm losing.

Gabriel blew his horn

A disappointing afternoon, wasted watching UT lose to Memphis. I really thought they could pull it out - but Memphis ran away with it from the beginning pretty much. It's a sad day in longhorn country. However, now that a KU-UT championship is out of the picture, I think I'll be rooting for Davidson this evening, shhh - don't tell! - Stephen Curry is on fire, and what a great story that would be! This is why I love the madness, anything is possible.

UPDATE: With a minute fifteen left on the clock and KU making their two free throws I felt I should take the opportunity to admit I've been a fair-weather fan for both teams equally during this game. I've cheered constantly for the leader, WHEE, Underdog! WHEE, Number One Seed! It's a good game, for all involved!

one hundred and sixty-one to go

It had to be done!

i am. at peace.

I started this entry a long time ago, in February 2007, and I don't think it's a coincidence that it was put on hold, worked on, put on hold, etc, a few times over - as over the past year I've felt many various shades of "at peace" (or not). I finally felt able to finish this during the holidays. Then I nearly wanted to burn it. And, now I feel ready to post it - I guess that's a tiny hint into my psyche, all in itself.

I'm convinced that drowning has to be one of the worst things that can happen - when you can't breath and you want to. Maybe suffocating is the same, but somehow the thought of gasping for a deep breath and turning up with a mouth (and nose) full of water instead has got to be the worst. Almost like that time when I was 5 and I had been so sneaky as to grab a huge gulp from the glass of soda that my mom had put in the fridge. It wasn't until my mouth was over-full with delicious soda that I realized it was not soda, but coffee she'd put in there to make iced coffee. And there was nothing I could do with it - but swallow. Drowning must be like that. Times a thousand.

There was a time when I used to feel like I was drowning all the time. When I was over come with anxiety about this or that. When being alone, and in silence, was perhaps the worst thing that could happen. When I couldn't dream of falling asleep without the TV to stop the panic that seemed to always be just below the surface ready to bubble over at any moment. Sometimes it was justified, or maybe explainable, panic. Sometimes it was more vague. I guess worry has always been a character trait of mine. It's always been there, but I learned to deal.

I've noticed a change in this past year [2006]. I can sleep without the TV. I can be alone, and silent. I can be inside my head without feeling like I am missing something. I can do what I want, when I want, without feeling lost or unjustified. I'll blame some of this growth on traveling by myself. When it started, it was terrifying. But there was a certain freedom and peace that comes from being completely on your own somewhere that no one knows you. Particularly if it's a place where you also don't speak the language. I can remember my flight home from Singapore - and while I had grown "home-sick" by the end of that three-and-a-half week trek around the world, I was also sad to come back. To rejoin the day-in-day-out, the social norms, the societal expectations.

And while I have a strong "home-body" tendency, those trips really forced me to embrace myself and what I was about. Making the decision to move to Texas for grad school - a player that popped up very late in the game - over staying in Boston was terrifying. It was compounded by the fact that it was something, deep-down, I felt I needed to do. It was precisely opposite to the choice I would have thought I would have made. It was exactly the opposite of how I would have thought I would feel. It was that opposition that was horrific. But I knew, perhaps from the first time it was mentioned, that this was the choice I needed to make. I felt I was finally ready.

What followed that decision was anything but peace. There was no relief, there was no acceptance, there was complete and total fear, denial, sadness, terror, depression. No where in there though, was there ever regret.

It's funny how some things that happened a long time ago seem so clear - and others that happened just yesterday are fuzzy. I was going through a drawer of papers, papers that were among the first to be unpacked, and the first to be forgotten about. It included a set of fortunes from some fortune cookies.

Right before I left Boston, my last night with AY. We shared chinese food takeout and some wine on the empty floor of my living room. I remember I didn't eat much. I remember I talked a lot. I remember it was some of the best girl talk we'd ever had, maybe because it was the last for a while. Things have a way of being better than ever when you know they are coming to an end. We each got two fortune cookies. One of mine made me laugh a bit

If your cookie is in two pieces, the answer is yes

I remember the conversation that followed. I feigned confusion, saying "I don't know what the question was" and AY, as usual, did not let me get away with it, "Yes, you do". Well, she was right. I did know the question, although it might not have been exactly what she was thinking, I'm sure at it's very core it was similar.

And, many months later, the answer is yes.

note to self

I tried. I tried to be prepared for this. I charged the camera battery and I brought the memory card. And - there were just no pictures to be had. That's not entirely true, but there are no pictures to be shared.

I tried to be aware of the bands I was seeing that I liked, I kept a list. It goes something like:

spazmatics
ben burgess
the stills

It ends there. Not because I only saw three bands - but because after three I forgot I was keeping a list.

I tried to finish all of my work before it started, so that I could be ready for school on Monday. Instead, tonight at 10:37pm, I'm reapproaching my disastrous paper and beginning a power point presentation on it. Both are due tomorrow - and I've found out I'm presenting second.

yay for spring break, I think!

sxsw day 1

it's like disney world for music freaks! There were bands, there was BBQ, I know there was beer, I think there was fooseball, and I hear there were Indian girls.

and thats all I can say about that, my mom reads this afterall!

sxsw day 0.5

all i can say - two new friends stolen (damn, I'm good at that) and a resident 80s cover band found. Next wednesday, Cedar St. for sure - and I will talk to Geoffrey this time!!

Tomorrow - The onion party at Emo's. I can't sleep fast enough for this....

new plan...

...stay up all night to finish fMRI proposal that is due after spring break, so that tomorrow I can kick off SxSW festivities right!

I've got a steady supply of Diet Coke, and an immaculately cleaned apartment. Inspiration here I come...

UPDATE (10:53pm): Thanks to Sash for the external motivation I needed - experiment one, fully contrasted, on to experiment two. Shout Out Louds, here I come.

my new drug...

Resolve High Traffic Carpet Cleaner. It works just as well as Xanax, as far as I'm concerned.

I just cleaned half of my carpet - on my hands and knees - with this stuff. And, WOW. The carpet is clean, and I've never felt as happy. It's a miracle. This is even better than the day I discovered Easy Off Oven Cleaner and my self-cleaning oven.

(also, I lifted enough hair off the carpet to spawn 17 baby cats and maybe a gorilla - gross)

17,356

The number of times I have loaded my flash drive up with things to work on at home, but forgotten to pull it out of the computer before leaving my office. Dangit.

UPDATE (3/6/2008): 17,357! (also, apparently forgot to shut my office door last night before rushing out - in a hurry much. Thankfully there is a lab door still between me and the rest of the world.)

with an i

Here's a piece of a conversation I had at a party on Saturday night with a girl whose name commonly ends in a y, but she spells it with an i.

me: "When you see your name but spelled with a Y, doesn't it just seem like something totally different?"
her: "Oh, definitely. In fact, I don't even like the name with a Y."
me: "me neither!"
her: "Whenever I go someplace and have to give my name, even where it doesn't matter, I always am sure to say..."
simultaneously: "WITH AN I!"

vote early, vote often!

When I was home for Christmas one of my friends asked me if Texas voted on Super-Tuesday, and I was embarrassed to say "I have no idea". I knew I wouldn't miss it when the election happened, but I was unsure if we were a Super-Tuesday state or not. Turns out, no. A few weeks after I was home I remember insinuating that Texas was strange for having some crazy "primary-caucus hybrid" and being pissy that we voted a full month after Super-Tuesday. At that time, it was suspected, that perhaps the candidates would be chosen by then - some wondered whether the race would still be competitive in Texas at that point.

Well, it is.

A few weeks ago UT hosted a debate between Obama and Clinton, it was amusing for the most part - particularly when they began to fight. (My personal favorite was when Hill burst out with a "But, Baaahh-Raaahhck!!".) In my opinion she looked foolish during much of that debate, except for the very end. Bill Clinton was at UT on Wednesday, and I was there to hear him speak. He truly is a great public speaker. He was there to tell us that Hillary is the best "agent of change" he knows. That while Obama touts himself as the change, Hillary is better able to make the change. On Thursday, Obama held a town-hall meeting in Austin. This is the first time that I've had this much personal attention from candidates, other than when we were electing our senior class officers in high school.

And while there can be much debate into how to choose which candidate to back: do you support women, or african americans? Are you more impressed by experience than promise? Does youth prevail? Education? Environment? Health care? International policy? IRAQ? There are many reasons why this democratic primary will be memorable. For me, the biggest reason may not be who I vote for, but how I vote.

Texas has an early voting system, which begins 17 days before an election and ends 4 days before an election. There are specific early voting polls, and anyone can vote at any location. It seems odd, and yet so simple. Why not open the polls early, give people more chances to be able to make it out to vote. I'm not sure how Texas is able to handle this and other states aren't, but they do it and it seems to work. To further confuse things, for the primaries we have what is referred to as the Texas Two-Step, a phrase so beloved by the state it is actually used to describe any number of things.

Two-thirds of the delegates are decided by the vote of the primary. The remaining one-third are decided by the caucus held 15 minutes after the polls close. In order to participate in the caucus, you must vote in the primary. You must be present at the caucus at precisely 7:15 for your participation to count. As it has been described to me, everyone gathers in one room and "signs-in" according to the candidate they choose. It sounds strange to me, but I'll be there to caucus for the first time.

What disturbs me the most about this whole system is, no one knows about it. I thought that I was the one who had caught on late - but truly, no one that I've spoken to knows anything about this. So I've been making it my personal mission to inform everyone I know. Vote early, vote often, long live Texas!

compliments

I was happy to be on the receiving end of this compliment during my stats class today...

"What was that thing that you brought to Brian's on Saturday?"
"Stuffed grape leaves?"
"Oh, you made those - they were great!"
"It was my first try, they were ok but they'll be better then next time. What did you think I made?"
"That Texas-shaped cake. I just assume whenever there is a baked good that you've made it. But I guess it's not just the baked goods it's whatever I can't stop eating - that's how I know what you've brought!"

i shouldn't touch things...

this looks like poo, but better than it did 10 minutes ago. I messed something up and don't have the time or patience to make it look nicer. Although, I'll work on it. Taking applications for personal assistants!

dear jack-holes

Dear jack-holes who don't know how to park properly,

There is limited street space nearby campus that doesn't require a neighborhood parking sticker, we all know this. I understand that those of you who arrive early want to park at the end of the street - closest to campus. But, as you pull in, please back-up completely, leaving minimal space between you and the car behind you. We could easily fit 10 more cars on this street. The 17 three-quarter parking spots I pass each morning really piss me off. And my car is small.

Thank you,
Disgruntled Commuter.

DISCLAIMER: It may be hard to see the actual size of these spots, but they are all about half a car length, and I took them all this morning. There were 3 I did not snap, since a car was coming and I was risking getting hit.

Please, prepare for take-off!

Lately there has been lots of flight searching going on. Flights for a trip I hope to make in the future, flights for a trip I tried to make in the past. Flights for people to come here, flights for people to go elsewhere. Every time it's flight-scheduling-time I get incredibly overwhelmed. There are so many options, its so expensive, and comparison shopping is nearly impossible. And somehow I'm always in the dark about where to look. So I thought I'd ask - how do y'all find flights?

I know of travelocity, orbitz, and expedia. And priceline, and hotwire. I've had the most luck with Orbitz (out of those). Sometime in the last year and a half, my mom introduced me to kayak.com, which has been my stand-by since then. Just last week I was introduced to onetravel.com - and actually found a cheaper flight than I did on kayak! (One caveat, kayak shows the prices with all the fees, onetravel does not. Same with orbitz, no fees...except in teeny tiny print!) And today, travelzoo.com - which, btw, has announced that many airlines have dropped their winter/spring rates and discounts are being seen out of Boston.

So, my question is this - how do you find flights? what's your favorite? where should I look? Please, comment away!!

listening

This song never fails to pump me up, for anything. I feel like a superhero after I've listened to it.

Face Up and Sing - Ani Difranco

some guy tried to rub up against me
in a crowded subway car
some guy tried to feed me some stupid line
in some stupid bar
I see the same shit everyday
the landscape looks so bleak
I think I'll take the first one of you's home
that does something unique

some chick says
thank you for saying all the things I never do
I say
the thanks I get is to take all the shit for you
it's nice that you listen
it'd be nicer if you joined in
as long as you play their game girl
you're never going to win

today I just want someone to entertain me
I'm tired of being so fierce
I'm tired of being so friendly
you don't have to be a supermodel
to do the animal thing
you don't have to be a supergenius
to open your face up and sing

somebody do something
anything soon
I know I can't be the only
whatever I am in the room
so why am I so lonely?
why am I so tired?
I need company
I need backup
I need to be inspired

my professionalism will astound you

On Thursday afternoon I was in my office and received a phone call from a potential subject. My research is directly dependent on people wanting to participate, and the fact that I want to use elderly subjects - well, recruitment is tricky. So, when someone calls to volunteer, basically I will agree to give them whatever in the world they want. My advisor was in the lab area outside of my office, but I decided it was ok to carry on with the phone conversation with my door open. A few minutes into the conversation, however, a classmate walked in to use the lab area. I decided it would be better to shut my door, so she could not hear my conversation. I had to slide my phone from the back of my desk to the front edge so I could get up to shut the door.

And there it was - a giant bug. HUGE. with antennae. You know how well I deal with these things. But, I was on the phone. So, I grabbed the paper I was writing notes on and stood up on my chair. I had my eyes locked on that sucker, while I spoke to the subject from atop my chair and tried to make an appointment for our first meeting. Finally I decided I could not wait any longer, and I found a post-it note pad to try and crush the bug. BUT - he began to run. I LOST THE BUG. So, now I'm back up on the chair scribbling notes.

Finally, I made the appointment, hung up the phone, and opened my office door. At which point I burst into high-pitched squeals "omigawd, a bug. A BUG, omigod!! There was a bug. I lost the bug. omigawd!!" Both my advisor and classmate turned to look at me, slightly unphased. The classmate asked, "was it big?" I wanted to scream - DOES IT MATTER?! But, I calmed down a bit.

I removed everything from my desk, and used some lysol wipes. Then I got down on my hands and knees, armed with wipes and a heavy tape dispenser, and began the search. My classmate looked in and laughed, "What are you doing? Oh my god, are you looking for it?" From beneath my desk I shrieked "Of course I am! It's here somewhere. I lost it. Where did it go?!"

Defeated, I stood up and packed my bag. As I headed out of my office my advisor said, "heading home? Have a nice night!" and I responded, "yes, I'm itchy. There's a bug in my office!" I wonder if he regrets working with me? Thanks to my dad, I know the bug isn't there anymore. He assured me it has crawled out, under the door, and made its way down the hall by now!

'till Gabriel blows his horn

I've never been to a big "sports" school. I'm currently enrolled at my 4th institution of higher learning, but this is the only one I've been to that actually has a football team. I'm not talking about a "decent" football team, just any team, in general. On top of that, I've never really felt much sporting school spirit. Most recently I was at Boston University, and most of y'all have heard the story about how I learned what the mascot was there. To fill you in, it goes something like this:

I was at my grandmother's house with my parents, we had arrived in separate cars, along with other family members. We were all standing in the street outside her driveway talking, and a neighbor I did not know said to the crowd "Who's the terrier?" I ignored him, as I didn't know what he was saying, it couldn't be directed at me. Again he starts speaking of some terrier. I go on ignoring him, walking closer to my car. At this point he comes up to me and asks directly "are you a terrier?" Um, ok - NO, I'm not. I starred back blankly, unsure of how to answer him. So he continued "Do you go to BU?" Ah, yes, I say proudly, yes I do. And he blinks and says, "So you're a terrier?" Hm, still unsure. So he points to the parking sticker on my car (with a picture of a dog on it) and says "BU, terriers, you go there?" I do, and now I understand why this dog is on my parking sticker. Supposedly it's the mascot. I recently told this story to a BU alum who lives in Austin and she laughed and said "You didn't know Rhett?" And I felt like I was back at square one, "excuse me, Rhett? I'm talking terrier's here!" Supposedly that dog is named Rhett.

Prior to that, I was at American University - we were the eagles. I know this because I have a pair of light blue shorts with the word Eagles written across the bum. And there was a statue somewhere of an Eagle. And, really, if you are going to call a school The American University, what else could the mascot possibly be? Before that I was a Clarkie. Through and through. But, was I a Cougar? I guess by default. We were the red and white blooded Cougars. The women's field hockey team (which I was not on) played in the outfield of the shitty baseball field that the men's baseball team (which I was not on) used. The men's lacrosse team (which I was not on) had the newest coach so they got the last pick for gym time and held practice at 1am. The gym floor was redone my freshman year, and thus we were no longer allowed to play sports on it. The basketball games had more band members than fans in attendance. You get the picture.

So last night, when I went to my first ever college sporting event, can you imagine how blown away I was at the basketball game I saw? I mean, forget the fact that HOARDS of people were heading there and scalpers were outside, and that ESPN was broadcasting the game. Forget the fact that there were 3 dance teams, cheerleaders, a mascot, a band, a pep squad. Forget the fact that standing ovations were given to two former football players as they walked in with their entourages. Forget that this was currently one of the biggest college basketball games this season. Well, no, don't forget those - those are all the reasons I was blown away.

If I thought that the longhorns around the city of Austin were plentiful, this was a whole new level. Burnt orange everywhere. Hell, Blue everywhere too. The fanfare was a bit ridiculous. I mean, chants and cheers and stomping and whooping. I sat quietly for about ten minutes, before I was yelling with the rest of them. Unclear what we were yelling "give 'em hell, give 'em hell, make 'em eat shit" seemed to be the local consensus. But there was also "FIGHT, TEXAS!" and of course, the eyes of Texas, sung after the star spangled banner, with a Texas State flag stretched across the court. As a friend pointed out, it didn't take me long to get into it (um, hello, do you not know me? were we concerned I'd NOT get into it?!) I was already decked out in my new t-shirt, and had the horns up for all the foul shots!

Beyond the shear amazement at the crowd and fans, it was a really good basketball game to watch as well. Not the ass-whoopin' some had hoped for (I'm going to be a longhorn for a while, please don't stop talking to me every time they win!), but a great ending for longhorn fans everywhere!

And today, I'm left suppressing the urge to make the Eyes of Texas my new ringtone. I've also already begun to look into getting student season tickets for football. Oh, and most importantly - The Sox are in DESPERATE need of a hand signal, it's really the only thing Red Sox Nation is missing. So, I'm on it!

my rings

I've always worn rings. In high school. In college. After. One of the rings I wear my mom gave me, it's silver (all my rings are silver) and it makes a circle, with an opening, on top of my finger. In the summer I'll get a tan line around it, and when I take it off there is a tanned circle inside the white outline of the ring. Not sure why, but I always sort of love that tan line. In high school I never took my rings off, maybe only during field hockey and lacrosse games because I was forced. In college I took them off even less. I'd sleep in them, I'd shower with them. Really, they were always there. I've worn the circle ring for upwards of twelve years - whenever I get together with my friend Jenn from high school she muses over that fact, remembering it from high school. A second ring I've worn for about eleven years, it's my high school class ring. I went to a small private all-girls school and just about every girl got one. I think I'm the only one who still wears hers. It's simple, a silver ring with a black stone in the middle. On the right side it says "LS" for Lincoln School, on the left side it says "98" and stone itself is engraved with the helmet of Athena, the greek goddess of wisdom. Underneath it is engraved with my name. For our school the rings were symbolic, you received them in your junior year and wore them with the helmet facing in. On graduation you flipped your ring around, with the helmet facing out - letting all your wisdom lose into the world. Or something like that. The third ring is the newest, only about 5 years old or so, and is my college ring. It's daintier than the high school ring, it's white gold and has a small ruby stone in it. Our school colors were red and white, and a ruby also happens to be my birthstone. Around the stone it says Clark University. On the right side it says "02" and on the left side it says "BA". Underneath it is engraved with only my initials, it is too small to fit the entire name. I've worn these rings everyday for a long time. Until just under a year ago.

As I said, in college I never took them off. I slept in them, I showered in them, everything. Some years later I decided I couldn't sleep in them, and I started taking them off at night. And also to shower. Like a normal person. Just under a year ago, I woke up in the morning, got ready for work and made a conscious decision to not put my rings on. I don't even know why, but I remember thinking I wasn't going to wear them. And I didn't the next day either. Or the next. You get the picture. I've brought them places with me, they still get packed in bags for overnight trips. But I've not worn them. I forgot to pack them when I went home for Christmas, and I felt a little worried when I realized I didn't have them - but I'm not sure I would have put them on.

Yesterday, as I was doing my normal Sunday thing - errands and such - I put them on. This morning, when I got ready for school, I put them on. Again, I'm not sure why, but I did. And now, my hands look like my own again!

OCD

My OCD has reached a new low (high?). I was out of the office yesterday (on my death bed with the mutant flu, but thats a story for another time) and while I was out one of the IT guys had to come in and set my office computer up to be on an outside server, so I can access even more RAIDs and files and good stuff. I didn't know he was going to come while I was gone. He very nicely left me a note explaining what he had done. It says:

"I also moved the folder icons down to the bottom left corner of your desktop so they don't get lost in all your other folders...

...I had to move a few things around with the open folders and applications on your desktop, it is awfully crowded."

And my reaction, shear embarrassment that he had to see my messy desktop. And, of course, it is now all spic-n-span and organized. There must be a drug for this, and I want it!

in dreams

I've not been shy about sharing my experiences with odd-ball dreams. They happen. A. Lot. The last two nights have been no different.

I'm prone to the "teeth dream", y'all know that one? Mine generally go something like this. I'm having a typically normal day and I eat something, and my teeth crumble. They are all loose in my gums and then as I talk I'm spitting out splinters of crumbled teeth. This goes on for what seems like an eternity, clearly I've spit out more pieces of teeth than I ever could have had in my mouth. Many, many mouthfuls of teeth have been spit out. And while this happens I am mostly panicked, anxious, and embarrassed (diagnosis right there!) I've had this dream often, in various forms. But, last night. Well. The dream began to get smart.

In my dream last night it was a typically normal day, and then my teeth were loose in my gums, and they were falling out. This time, though, they were not crumbles. They were whole teeth. And my dream-self was perplexed. I never have tried to salvage the crumbles...but, whole teeth?! Maybe they can be fixed. So I began to try and discretely save the teeth, through the anxiety and embarrassment so I could go to the dentist. (as a side note, I put them in a glass of milk because I remembered this commercial from when I was a kid, with a bear who fell off a skateboard, telling you to put the lost tooth in milk and get to the dentist quickly!) My dream-self was under the impression that far too many teeth had fallen out, and I actually said to someone in my dream that "this can't be real, too many teeth have fallen out for this to be real!" So I took the saved teeth and counted, sure to reach something like 55 (and, mind you, I still had about 12 left in my mouth). But, I only counted ten that had fallen out. And ten holes in my gums. And, dream-me started to panic more. Dream-me decided, "This must be real! In dreams they are crumbles, these are real teeth. I've lost my real teeth...and I don't even have a dentist here!" And levels of panic and anxiety were reached that I can't say I've felt in a dream before.

When I woke up this morning, no teeth were missing, and they look just fine. But, maybe I should finally find a dentist!

well said

I started a post after last weekend, but I was unhappy with the way it was turning out. So, as with many, it was left untouched. There are many such posts - typically about important events - where I feel my lackluster writing does it injustice. Posts about the Red Sox World Series win, hosting my first Thanksgiving, and even the day I had to give back my laptop, they go unfinished or unfollowed-up on. Last weekend was really one of the best weekends I've had in a while. I had my first visitor to Texas; not only was I excited to share things about my life here with someone from home, but it was really great to spend so much time with AY. She's so thoughtful and has already sent me a wonderful thank you note that sums up, much better, what I was trying to say. So - I'll steal it from her!

"So much fun packed in 4 days! Where to begin - tacos, longhorns, bbq, coffee in a soda cup, xxl cowhides for sale, dismembered doll butts, camera-shy killing knives, discontinued football purses, exes from Texas, chicken with herbes de Provence, line dancing, "everything's fiiiiiiine", tips on using a feather vs. a chicken, brownies with ice cream, buffalo chili."

I noticed only one thing missing from her description....but, she closes the letter with:

And remember -- W.W.J.R.D.?

In the end, it's all there. And was a great weekend in Austin (and surrounding areas). In addition to the fun, I learned some valuable lessons:

1. The pull out couch in my apartment is not only easy to pull out (if my 90 year old grandmother could do it I shouldn't have been worried...but I was) it's also not terribly uncomfortable.

2. The ghetto bathroom set-up in my apartment was not as horrible as I expected it to be.

3. A cowboy hat, western shirt, big belt buckle and boots make just about anyone incredibly attractive. And, two-steppin' around a dance floor can't hurt either.

4. A small diner in Johnson City claims to have "splits, phosphates, and iced tea" and the Fredericksburg Trade Days claim to sell primitives. Really, all I learned was that these things exist. I was at the diner and the Trade Days, but I have no idea what phosphates and primitives are.

5. Rain in Texas halts air-traffic as bad as a blizzard in Boston.

good idea, bad idea: part II - adventures in babysitting

I was babysitting tonight and had a small instance of déjà vu. Although, this time, instead of styrofoam popcorns it was small plastic tiddly-winks. And, instead of carefully dumping them onto the ground they were violently thrown from their tub by a 5 year-old. And, instead of a long-haired cat there was a small dog (smaller than Mia). Also involved in this "game" were two different colors of putty and some magnets. I was never quite clear what the rules were, other than make a huge gigantic mess sending your babysitter into OCD hysterics. But in the end, I got the little rugrat. He began to throw a tantrum about picking up the mess, as he did this I picked up one of the wand-magnets and started collecting the magnetic tiddly-winks. I cleverly bragged to him that I could pick up more than he could. Wouldn't you know it, I lost. Boys and their competitive edges.

We then decided to play "rock band" which involved real microphones and real instruments. Which were banged around in a way that I am sure was not their intent. I put a stop to this when he began ripping these down off the wall (mind you, these line the walls of his play room...but still, are they toys?! who knows!) I played an electric guitar and the keyboard while he screamed into a microphone. I think we were pretty good. Although, the lyrics - "ya baby, all night long, you are soooo cooool, all night long, ya baby" - they have me a little creeped out.

Cancer wife lives on!

good idea, bad idea

I won't lie, this seemed like a perfectly fine idea at the get go. Dump the styrofoam on the floor, put items in box, refill with styrofoam. I overlooked a few very key elements, like the static attraction between sytrofoam and long-haired cat. Also, the territorial behavior of long-haired cat over styrofoam. Finally, the teeny tiny small styrofoam pieces that were littered all over the floor as I finished up. In the end, the box is packed, Mia is styrofoam-free, and the mess has been cleaned. Next time, maybe I'll use a bag!

impressive

One of my classes this semester, that I think will be pretty fun and immensely useful is called Do-it-yourself Stats. I can hold my own as a small-time script writer; I spent many years pouring through other peoples code, figuring out how stuff works, finding bugs, making things happen the way I wanted. But Matlab has always been the one thing I was afraid to touch. DIY-stats happens all in matlab! It also will teach me the fine art of making up my data boot-strapping.

Our first assignment is an easy one, generate random data, calculate the mean, and get a histogram that should look Gaussian. To do this I wrote a simple script. Then we were asked to find the sample variance and sample size for each run and to plot those. I got fancy, I wrote a script around my script to gather all these numbers and plot it. I think I expected a straight line, showing the constant relationship.



I got this blimp. I think there is a problem somewhere.

UPDATE (2:55pm): After figuring out that all the variables I created needed to be cleared before I rerun the script - and after realizing that I was starting my graph with an unnecessary (0,0) coord, I think I've done it!

noontime revelations

Instead of remembering to buy more spoons to bring to my office, I've gotten very talented at eating my yogurt with a fork. Sadly, I feel I am already one step away from GoGurt, which haunted me as a camp counselor and I swore I would never buy or eat. Maybe it's time for a new lunch idea!

sending out an s.o.s.

could someone please tell the cat to get out of the damn bathtub and eat something, she stopped listening to me weeks ago!

UPDATE: While you are at it, can you also tell her I'm sick of playing "how many places can I hide a hairball", and that I know it was her that turned off my alarm clock three days ago!

reading material

I went to the library today, and I got a library card. I also checked out a book - because I plan to have oh so much time to read once classes start on Monday.

I was disappointed by the public library near my house. It was small, and smelled musty. And had a limited selection. If, by limited I mean, lots of books on Texas, Jesus, and how to speak English. And also, quite the Danielle Steele selection. I was unable to find the book I wanted, and really shocked to find the one I ended up with.

with too many cats

You know that old lady, the one who lives alone, up the street,with too many cats. She's crazy - or at least that's what you and the rest of your 13-year-old friends call her. In reality, she likely knows what is going on, but maybe she doesn't agree with it, or chooses to ignore it. She's not crazy, she's just in a different time. In a different place. But, you call her crazy, because she lives alone, with too many cats. You know her. In 50 years, I hope not to be her!

But, in the last two months, I had a glimpse. I was the crazy-cat-lady.

Mia and I went on a plane, twice. And she was great. It was me - I was the disaster. I was the spectacle. I was the crazy-cat-lady. When we left Austin, I put her in her carrier and she complained minimally. She tried to push her way out - this picture was her actually putting her small paw up against the mesh of the bag, and whining. Whimpering. Pulling at my heart strings. Whispering - "You're a bad mom". She stopped relatively quickly, because I'm a bad mom and I ignored her. In the car on the way to the airport, not a peep. I pulled her out through security - silent. The security guard even commented on her well-manneredness.

While waiting in the airport I tried to sit in quiet areas, and I tried to talk to her a lot. As Stace pointed out - most people probably didn't know there was a cat in that fashionable bag of mine, and I was the crazy-lady-talking-to-a-bag to most. I ensured that I could pre-board the flight (you know along with people who have legitimate mobility problems and small screaming children). When pre-board was announced, there I was, the crazy-cat-lady, the only one pre-boarding. Families with children were sitting and waiting, while I was rushing down the jetway to the plane. I crawled around the floor of the plane situating her comfortably under the seat, talking to her all the while.

On the flight up, we shared a row with no one. So after take off Mia got her own seat, and I opened the carrier enough to fit my hand in and pet her - while I tried to sleep. She didn't like take off, or landing - who can blame her. But she suffered in silence. As is a cats way, she drooled a lot. I had to ask for copious amounts of paper towels, and I kept talking to the bag, so eventually the flight attendant said to me "What's in here anyway?" I told her it was my cat and she said "Ohhhh! Kitty!" but had this look of relief, figuring out I wasn't insane - maybe.

I think the low-point occurred while I was waiting at Logan for my flight home. My parents were waiting with me, all of us sitting to eat a little and drink coffee (them, not me) and I needed to use the restroom. I left Mia in her bag with my parents and took my purse and went to the restroom. On the way....I talked to my purse. I did. I forgot it wasn't Mia. And I actually spoke to my pocketbook. Crazy-lady-talking-to-a-bag, with too many cats.

thanks for looking out for me

One of the nicest things to come home to, is all the wonderful shows that my DVR has been taping for me. We've got episodes of The Hills, Gossip Girl, SVU, Everyday Italian, Ace of Cakes, and so much more. So, I've given up on the food shopping for now - must catch up with LC first!

UPDATE: DAMN YOU DVR! the episode of The Hills that was there yesterday has been deleted. Damn you setting that was set to only save for 14 days. I'll just have to settle for Gossip Girl.

home again

I got back home yesterday and my reaction was "Oh, this is where all my stuff is!" I really started to forget what my apartment was like, and what all my stuff looked like. It was nice to be in my own bed, but I did watched "Fever Pitch" to wallow in some missing-New-England-self-pity. Now, my only problem is, who is going to go and do my grocery shopping and make me breakfast? Accepting volunteers now.

all that you can't leave behind.

I've always loved this song, there are a few times in my life it has seemed appropriate. This, again, is one of them.

Walk On - U2

And love is not the easy thing
The only baggage that you can bring
Not the easy thing
The only baggage you can bring
Is all that you can't leave behind

And if the darkness is to keep us apart
And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off
And if your glass heart should crack
And for a second you turn back
Oh no - be strong

Walk on - walk on
What you got, they can't steal it
No, they can't even feel it
Walk on - walk on
Stay safe tonight

You're packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been
A place that has to be believed to be seen
You could have flown away
A singing bird in an open cage
Who will only fly - only fly for freedom

Walk on - walk on
What you got, they can't deny it
Can't sell it or buy it
Walk on - walk on
You stay safe tonight

And I know it aches
How your heart it breaks
You can only take so much
Walk on - walk on

Home - hard to know what it is if you never had one
Home - I can't say where it is, but I know I'm going
Home - that's where the hurt is

And I know it aches
And your heart it breaks
You can only take so much
Walk on

Leave it behind
You've got to leave it behind

All that you fashion - all that you make
All that you build - all that you break
All that you measure - all that you feel
All this you can leave behind

All that you reason - it's only time
Love in a fever - no, not mine
All that you sense - all that you scheme
All you dress up - all that you seem
All you create

she said I think I'll go to Boston...

Perhaps the perfect few days were spent in Boston - so perfect it's like I never left. There were many scenes straight out of my old life: sitting on the couch with Stacey, both of us in our PJs, drinking diet coke, playing with a crazy cat, with an SVU marathon on in the background - I mean, that could easily have been one of a thousand weekends over the past few years; hanging out at Chris and Allison's playing crazy games around the coffee table, laughter abounds...only thing missing was the boot; procrastinating with a.y., complete with a perfect New Year's brunch, appropriately fitting soundtrack - a wonderfully procrastinated start to '08; a morning of cooking in the kitchen with Mel and a little RR!; and, of course, gossip in Charlestown with my SBF. Man, I've missed this place.

But I had many firsts too! Thanks to Vihann and Julie for classing up my act, taking me to Shabu-Zen for hot-pot, where I managed to use chopsticks for the first time, and did not spill on my white pants. For further class, champagne at symphony hall watching the Boston Pops was perhaps the most fun show I've seen in a while. And Emily and I braved the fancy-pants new wing of the Natick Mall (or whatever they call it now) walking through some really festive trees. And, thanks to a.y. I saw many great fireworks in Boston, both at the common and over the harbor. All in all, a great bunch of new memories from my favorite city.

Now, back to work.

Post-Christmas Shopping tips

1. Get up and go as early as you can.
This is not best accomplished by waking up at a bit before 10am, checking your email, watching TV, eating breakfast, showering, getting dressed, changing your mind about outfit, changing your mind about shoes, and being about ready to leave at 11:30am.

2. Bring provisions.
Pack a bag with water, snacks, things you want to match, coupons, and your list. It's helpful if you remember to bring your credit card. Both of them. And put gas in the car. If not, it may take you three separate trips back to your house in order to get everything you actually need.

3. Do not get arrested for shoplifting.
This can easily be avoided by remembering to remove the pants you've tried on and want to buy before you leave the dressing room (putting on your own pants is a good idea too!). Once you've decided which pair of on-sale earrings you'd like to buy, do not place them directly into your purse. In general, don't forget the "pay for it" step. Just because you've decided you'd like the item, it's good practice to let the store know as well.

Went shopping with Mom today, let's just say you live and learn!

ch-ch-ch-changes

I've updated the blog appearance a little, most of the changes are probably not noticeable to y'all - but it's making things more usable for me! Of note, the colors have changed, as well as the header picture that is now a link back to the main blog page. (is it ok to admit it took me hours to figure this one out.) Also, I've added a counter to the bottom of the page (so y'all can see how popular I am) and I've begun to use tags. Rest assured that the tags will be wildly overused - but some might be useful. Oh, and the ads. Click away - mama needs to pay back student loans!

I'm hoping these changes will make some things easier in the future!

merry and bright....

looking for Santa...

looking for presents...
Merry Christmas from Mia and me!

one of my favorites

Vienna Teng, The Atheist Christmas Carol

It's the season of grace coming out of the void
Where a man is saved by a voice in the distance
It's the season of possible miracle cures
Where hope is currency and death is not the last unknown
Where time begins to fade
And age is welcome home

It's the season of eyes meeting over the noise
And holding fast with sharp realization
It's the season of cold making warmth a divine intervention
You are safe here you know now

Don't forget
Don't forget I love
I love
I love you

It's the season of scars and of wounds in the heart
Of feeling the full weight of our burdens
It's the season of bowing our heads in the wind
And knowing we are not alone in fear
Not alone in the dark

Don't forget
Don't forget I love
I love
I love you

how quickly you forget

In my 28 winters I've spent 18 of them in RI, 8 of them in MA, 1 in DC, and now 1 in TX. Point being, I'm not immune to New England winters, by ANY stretch of the imagination. And here I am, back, before winter even started. It feels appropriate to make a list of things I forgot I hated about winter:

1. shoveling
2. static shocks
3. dry skin
4. chapped lips
5. when the windows in your car fog up no matter what setting/temperature you set the heat to
6. cold toes
7. runny nose
8. shoveling
9. having to start the car before you drive anywhere
10. wet socks
11. wet bottom-of-your-pant-legs
12. wind burn
13. cold fingers
14. shortages on rock salt
15. cold nose
16. shortages on ice scrappers
17. snow banks...
18. ...that aren't frozen enough to support your weight
19. NOT ENOUGH PAIRS OF SOCKS
20. is there sun here?

I've been in TX for only a few months, but I've gotten used to open toed shoes and being warm. And....well...I like it. Ok? I like Texas. I do. And....

(it's cold in New England.)

please pick the answer that is the most correct

There is only one answer that is MOST correct, you will not get partial credit for partially correct answers.

The best thing to do after one exam, before the next, to clear your head is....
	join Linked Up so you can be online friends with your old boss
	have a raging dance party in your car to "Wild Thing", so raging that at the light 2 cars join in
	clean up cat puke, possibly from yesterday (but also might be new and yesterdays was cleaned)
	re-wash the clothes you failed at laundering this morning
	drink beers
	all of the above.
pollcode.com free polls

study break

it's that time of year, and my study breaks have become unusual and prolonged. This morning's resulted in some minor bleeding, 6 bandages, a tube of neosporin, and an afternoon spent in silence because I'm not talking to her. Those eyes might break hearts, but the claws and teeth break skin!

Also accomplished, she is now micro-chipped (so even if I wanted to leave her on the side of the road, I couldn't), she's healthy for our flight next week (which she is still unaware of), and she's overweight - FATSO!!!

juxtaposition

I remember when I learned what that word meant. Sophomore year, English class. Our teacher Ms. Butler (who once burned her arm very badly because she tried to iron her shirt while it was on her) asked if anyone knew what it meant. One girl thought she did, and raised her hand. I honestly don't remember her answer (she's the same girl who, when reading a headline about JFK Jr asked 'Who's JFK Jr?' and when her mother answered 'The president's son' she replied with 'I didn't know Bill Clinton had a son!', and she was serious) but it was not right. Not close. So Ms. Butler asked where she got that misinformation from. She replied, "It's in the J catalog" - if you even have to ask what the J catalog is, then perhaps the whole point of this story is lost on you. But, suffice it to say, I really only remember the meaning of this word because some uninformed small private all-girls school girl got her vocabulary from the J catalog.

jux·ta·po·si·tion (jkst-p-zshn)n.
the act of placing or positioning items in the image area side by side or next to one another to illustrate some comparison.

And some days, there are perfect real world examples of this. Like today. When I drove 5 miles out of my way to get some groceries at one store that is significantly cheaper than the one at my corner, I stood and debated over a $1.93 spool of ribbon, and whether I should wait until the 50 cent yogurt goes back on sale for 45 cents, I came home to a letter from Continental Airlines, that I had enough miles to enjoy their elite services on my next flight. So I can take my 45 cent yogurts (because I decided to wait) and I can sit in the swanky Continental airlines suite. Ah, to be a 27-year-old grad student!

T-giving

it's a week since then, and all the leftovers are gone. That's a lie. I've got pumpkin bread and zucchini bread in the freezer, and I've got cranberry sauce and apple sauce still. But, that's it.

All I have the energy to write about it is:
It was good, and yummy, and over!

turkey update

8:50am still not shrimp, beginning to thaw!

7:15pm still not shrimp, thawing nicely!

Thursday 9:00am still not shrimp, and squishy and thawed...YAY!

seen. (wanted).

a thanksgiving nightmare

It's the week I've been waiting for - this year I'm cooking Thanksgiving dinner (for somewhere between 5 and 7 people). And while this poses a few logistical problems (I've only got place settings for 4, my table only seats 2, and I'm not sure there is enough counter space to even spread out all the food) I couldn't be more excited. In fact, I've already baked the pumpkin bread and the zucchini bread - they are in the freezer now. I bought the turkey a week ago, and I had a practice run roasting a chicken. So, we're set to go.

Until my nightmare on Saturday night.

It just so happened that I acquired two turkeys. The one I bought and the one my advisor had given to me. They were both in my freezer, and on defrosting day I decided to pull one out and save one for later. On Thanksgiving, with dinner set at 2pm, I was a little stressed and running late, preparing to put the bird in the oven at 1:30pm. I was a thoughtful hostess and sent out a widespread text message to my guests, 'Running a little late over here...' I tore the packaging off of the bird, only to find that the turkey was not actually a turkey. It was, in fact, a bunch of shrimp constructed to look like a turkey. I freaked out. I couldn't serve a shrimp-turkey. So I quickly pulled out the "spare" turkey to check it out. It did not appear to be a shrimp-turkey, so I grabbed the phone and quickly called the Turkey Hotline.

'Turkey Hotline, what is your emergency?'
'HELP! I need to defrost and cook a 12 pound turkey in under 30 minutes!'
'Ok ma'am, calm down. We're sending help immediately.'

Help never came, Thanksgiving was ruined, and I was running around doing that weird dream crying thing where there were no actual tears falling...

And then I woke up. Panicked. I was fully aware it was Sunday, and I was fully aware of what Sunday meant:
This is the note that has been hanging on my fridge basically since I bought the turkey. I had to write it down, because I was stuck in this perpetual loop. Every three hours or so I would recalculating when to thaw the turkey, scared that I would forget. I needed a break from that, hence - the note. I jumped out of bed at 6am, and ran to the freezer. I looked all over the packaging, and I didn't see any indication that it was a shrimp-turkey and not a real turkey, none. So I transferred it to the fridge to begin the thaw.

Turkey update: As of today, Monday morning. It still seems very, VERY frozen. Not 1/3 less frozen than it was. Not 4lbs less frozen than it was. Maybe it's not a shrimp-turkey, but maybe it's a super-unthawable-turkey.

Fridge update:

my life as a grad student.

I had an exam on Thursday. I'd love to be one of those people who can say "oh, I didn't have to study..." But, I'm not. I did have to study. And it was tough. I procrastinated in every way possible. Until, it came right down to the 11th hour and I could procrastinate no more. And then, then I studied. I paced around my apartment reading notes, and text books, and powerpoint slides, and note cards. I studied, and thought, and reasoned, and understood (ish). And slept (not much). The exam came and went, and it was pretty much as expected. And then I sat around at school from 11am (when the test ended) until 3pm (when I had a class). What I really wanted to do was go home. I needed sleep. I needed to decompress. But, I'm a nerd at heart, and I could not miss class. So I stuck around.

It's been pretty quiet lately, all classes have been canceled because of a conference that's pretty important and most people have been attending. Thursday was our first day back to this one class. I headed over to class at 3pm. There were only two people in the room (a computer lab) so I said "We have class right?" They said yes! So I sat at my computer and waited. waited.

I signed online to chat with some friends. But I was concerned, no one else was there. I waited. One other girl walked in. She sat, and looked all around. She looked at the clock a few times. Then she pulled out her text book and put on her iPod. My "chatting" turned into "ranting", and the 10-minute-rule came and went. After sufficiently complaining to 3 friends online, and my mother via email, I decided that 15 minutes was long enough to wait. At 3:15, when there was still no sign of a professor, TA, or other classmates, I quietly picked up my books and left.

I made it 4 steps out of the room before I remembered that class starts at 3:30pm, and has all semester.

After class, I hopped on the bus immediately. I was going straight home - the couch and a beer were waiting. I got off the bus stop, and my 1/2 mile walk brings me right passed the grocery store. I needed aluminum foil and dish soap, so I went in to get it. I found the aluminum foil and dish soap. I also saw a roasting pan that I need for Thanksgiving, as well as this covered glass pyrex dish I needed. Then I remembered I was out of conditioner. Also, toilet paper - I grabbed the pack of 12. I also grabbed paper towels (8 rolls) and some hand soap. I mean, I needed them all. So I push my cart up to the check-out, and as I unload things I remember to say the thing I reminded myself of when I walked in the store:

"I don't need a bag"

Crap, I don't need a bag because I'll just throw this aluminum foil and dish soap in my school bag and continue my walk home. I think this through slowly as I stare at three pans, two large things of paper products, four different kinds of soap, and aluminum foil on the belt. I never really finished my sentence, it came out more like:

"I don't need.....uhhh....well....hm."
pause
"Actually, I can't buy all of this stuff!"
blank stare
"I forgot that I walked here"
still blank
"So, ya, sorry. Just the aluminum foil and the dish soap. I can't carry the rest!"
"OH! And I don't need a bag, thank you!"

I mean, the woman laughed and pretended to understand. But I was familiar with the awkwardness to hide the nervous 'This lady is so crazy I'm actually scared for her well-being' sentiment that I am sure was going through her head.

I appreciate the concern, it was touch and go. But, the couch and the beer did the job!

definition of lazy

I could have turned around to grab a coaster off of the coffee table for my cold bottle of Carlsberg beer...I craftily pulled out an extra index card instead.

(see also, definition of ghetto)

2007, the exclamation point!

I left the house last night saying, "I won't even be excited if they win it tonight." In the end, that was not the case. I'm not afraid to admit when I'm wrong, I was wrong.

More to come later, you can be sure of that. Until then, two questionably pointless things to occupy your time.

First, I'm sure y'all have heard of the Steal-a-Taco campaign, and how Jacoby Ellsbury's (Tacoby Bellsbury) stolen base won everyone in America a free taco. And, perhaps some of you are like me and detest the idea of having to eat a taco bell taco, but hate wasting anything free! You can go here to donate the monetary equivalent of your taco to the California Wildfire victims. Legit? I don't know - but if you aren't going to get a taco anyway, what have you wasted?

Second, Mikey Lowell. Mr. RBI. Mr. Double-off-the-wall. Mr. Billy-Mueller-still-holds-a-special-place-in-my-heart-but-I-LOVE-this-guy. Mr. World Series MVP. Mr. Free Agent. Sign this petition, to keep Mikey Lowell. Will it help? Who knows, probably not. Does it hurt, heck no!

net-working

I received an email yesterday from Sara Bowman*. Sara writes:

"... an acquaintance mentioned your name as a
possible occasional sitter for my 5 year old son. "

Given that I don't know many people here I asked Sara who had recommended me - I'm not one to turn down an opportunity to earn money, but I was curious who was spreading these rumors. Sara writes back with:

"I got your name from a lady named Anna Mathers** - hope that helps"

Nope, Sara, I don't know who Anna Mathers is. Should I be concerned that my reputation proceeds me, without my knowing?!

*name changed to protect the completely misinformed
**name changed to protect the completely unknown

beantown

I knew that moving out of Boston would be difficult, and I knew I'd miss it - no other place has felt quite like home to me as Boston has. But I often wonder if it would be this difficult if this was not the best month to be in Boston. There isn't anything like October in Boston, particularly one when the Sox have won the division for the first time in 12 years. My friends here have quickly learned that I am a fan - and many of the other fans and I have found a few favorite places to watch the games.

On Friday I overheard someone say "ya, I'm heading to the crown right after this to save a table for the game" - he was speaking to one of his friends, and almost simultaneously his friend answered and I interrupted. His friend said "what game?" and I said "oh, you're watching at the crown tonight?" And in fact, he and I shared a laugh, because we had never watched or talked about the Sox before, we just both knew we were from Boston. And in Boston everyone knows WHICH game is THE game!

This afternoon I was studying with a friend of mine, and we were huddled over the computer in my office trying to figure out the mechanism by which decreased dopamine causes the rigid motion of Parkinson's disease when she said "Oh, you even have a red sox notepad" and she laughed. Without missing a beat or looking up, I simply said, "it's not a hobby." I don't think she quite understood. But, if she were from Boston she'd get it - and, especially this month, she'd likely have her own red sox notepad.

Go Sox!!

things i'd forgotten

I forgot what test anxiety is like. I have nightmares, but they aren't necessarily what you'd expect, I don't think. On Tuesday I have my first Neuroanatomy midterm, and I think it would be understandable if my nightmares involved gigantic hippocampi chasing me around, or perhaps me drowning in a large lateral ventricle, or even me shrinking down to a microscopic level and being trapped in one of the basal ganglion inhibitory loops. But no, those are not my dreams. It simply involves me being half asleep and half awake and trying to utilize that time to "study", and possible test questions come to mind. You know questions like:

"What structure is this?"

In reality, I'd much rather be devoured by the optic chiasm, than go through an entire night freaked out that I'm not going to be able to answer any of these test questions I've come up with!!

wanna be my friendster?

In case you didn't already know, I am pretty dang cool! But here's my latest, a conversation with a new friend of mine.

her: and then she totally wrote blah blah blah on my wall!
me: SHE WHAT?! ON YOUR WALL? I mean, really? Why would you do that? Write on a wall? That doesn't even make sense, are we 4?
her: umm...facebook...

I guess it's similar to the first time I heard about skype. I was in Singapore and the lab director there asked if he could "skype me". I was awkwardly unsure of what to do...

dessert

Simple Baklava

Recipe courtesy: Giada De Laurentiis

1/2 cup almonds
1/2 cup walnuts
1/4 cup chopped dried apricots
1/4 cup plain bread crumbs
2 tablespoons sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
Pinch of salt
1 stick butter, melted, divided
3 tablespoons honey
12 sheets phyllo dough

Special equipment: 2 mini-muffin tins
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Place the almonds, walnuts, apricots, bread crumbs, sugar, cinnamon, ground cloves, and salt in a food processor. Run the machine until the mixture is very finely chopped. Transfer the mixture to a small bowl. Add 2 tablespoons of the melted butter and the honey and stir to combine.

On a dry work surface place 1 sheet of phyllo. Using a pastry brush and the remaining melted butter, lightly cover the entire sheet of phyllo with melted butter. Cover the first sheet with a second sheet of phyllo and brush with melted butter. Continue until there is a stack of 6 sheets of phyllo. Cut the stacked phyllo rectangle into 12 equal pieces (Cut lengthwise into 4 pieces and widthwise into 3 pieces.)

Gently press each cut piece of phyllo into the mini-muffin tin cups. Press 1 tablespoon of the nut mixture into each of the phyllo cups. Gather the ends of each of the phyllo squares and twist to make a sachet shape. Continue shaping the remaining sachets in the other mini-muffin tin. Bake until the edges of the phyllo are golden, about 20 to 25 minutes. When cool enough to handle, remove the baklava sachets and transfer to a serving plate.

the best intentions

today, instead of going for a run, I fell asleep on the couch when I sat down to put on my sneakers. I woke up after 45 minutes, drool on my t-shirt, and no motivation to move.

there's always tomorrow.