ISleepInADrawer.com

Unexpected

Take the quiz: "Which American City Are You?"

Cleveland
"You are blue collar and Rock n Roll. You Work hard and party harder."

Jeez. And all I said was that I liked beer!

Nerves of Polypropylene

I'm giving lab meeting this morning... again. My first talk over the research I've been doing for the past ten months. I don't think Jamesnerves are quite made of steel... Before I fell asleep last night, I resolved that they must be made of polystyrene; this morning, I switched to polypropylene.

The verdict: James, you thought way too much about Stupid Sh*t, and way too little about Lab Meeting Sh*t.

On the lighter side, Zach, sensing my stress, drove me to the grocery store to get lab meeting food, and then to work this morning; we had a conversation in the car that has led me to a Conclusion about him: I'm dating a Fetish.

A convo about child discipline...
Me: "Did your mom ever hit you with a ruler when you were little?..."
Zach: "Oh God, no!..."
[Zach pauses to think... then grins.]
Zach: "Hey, that sounds like fun..."

Jesus.
Does anyone have a meter stick I can borrow?

The Sun Also Sets

I don't know how this happened.

Oh, wait. I do know how this happened...

I'm Welsh.
Predominantly.
JamesAncestry = predominantly Welsh, some English, smatterings of Scottish and Irish, probably. A dash of Choctaw (dad's side) and Cherokee (mom's side).

What do you get? One white boy. Fair-skinned... can't tan. Always burns. A dermatologist's nightmare.

Hui and I were just talking in lab about how terrific the weather was this weekend. It seems that spring has finally arrived - sunny, cloudless, temperate. And the days are getting dramatically longer. Soon enough, the summer day length (5:00AM to 9:30PM) should set in.

I'd commented that Zach and I spent some of this weekend enjoying the outdoors:
Hui: "Oh, I can tell. You got some sun."
Me: "What?"
Hui: "Oh, on the side of your face... your right side. You have a little burn."
Me [outwardly brushing it off... inwardly self-diagnosing malignant melanoma]: "Oh, probably just a little... yeah... um..."
Hui: "So odd that it's only one side of your face."

So I sprinted to the bathroom. Sure enough - little pink on the right side of my face. Not even close to Richard Dreyfuss' character in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. But still... why the right side?

Simple: when Zach and I went out for breakfast Saturday morning, our table at the Jitterbug was right next to the window. The sun's rays hit the right side of my face.

I'm too ashamed of my genome to be embarrassed.
(For now, at least.)

Break on Through

As promised, Zach had a free hotel room Wednesday night. Sure enough, it was deep in Belltown, with a delicious view of the Sound. Sure enough, Seattle weather brought clouds and drizzle in, so (alas) there were no Olympic mountains to be seen. But, when we were walking from the elevator to the room, I became ecstatic: "Look, our room is 628! And the door to 628 is at the end of the hall on the TOP FLOOR; and the door is set at an angle to the rest of the hallway... you know that means it's nice and fancy!..."

Yeah, James. Way to be sophisticated. Just go back to your trailer.

But yes, the room (no, no... suite) was nice. No jacuzzi, but the tub could've fit three comfortably, and five uncomfortably (just by a visual estimation, not a controlled experiment). Kitchen, entertainment center, huge bed, the works. And how did we celebrate this new 12-hour grant of worldliness and elegance? Of refinement, style, and urbanity?

Why, we went to the Mr. Nude Seattle 2004 Contest, of course!
Seriously.

Oh my!

Don't ask me how we knew about it, because I don't remember. We just... did. While we were in the Quad Cities last week, we each reminded one another ("Oh yeah... Zach, remember that thing that's next Wednesday...") and decided, "Eh, what the hell." After all, you only live twice. The drag queens hosting the event were outstanding and side-splitting. The contestants, thankfully, were not all carved out of cream cheese - almost all body types and a variety of ages were well represented out of the seven contestants. Between giggles, whoops, and hollers, I thought, "Man, it takes guts to stand in front of a crowd of gay guys [and four hetero females] and... well... bare all." Alas, of the two brave souls Zach and I were rooting for, one [the soccer player] got runner-up, and the other [a new Seattlite from Montana] got nothing. We walked out of the Langston Hughes Cultural Center (what a place for a contest of that "style") arm-in-arm, aghast at our anti-sophistication... and on the drive back to the suite, resolved to go again next year.

So there!

And for something completely different tonight, we're going to a Seattle Symphony concert. How's that for Polar Opposite?!

The Alternate

Gay marriage = the issue that won't go away

Oregon is now the only state still issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples, due in part to the state's flexible definition of marriage. Well, not the entire state - just Multnomah County (Portland and vicinity). Benton County was planning on following in Multnomah County's footsteps...

Instead, though, they've chosen a different path altogether. Clever and interesting; Oregon, you never cease to amaze me.

Forecast

Zach rang me at work yesterday to proclaim tonight Stay-in-a-Hotel-Night. Why? Simply - his office booked a comfortable hotel room in Belltown for some traditional office "bonding" thing... as I get it, they meet for breakfast in Belltown, then go to the hotel room and bond by playing Cranium, then have lunch, then discuss business, then more Cranium.

Yeah, and he gets paid for it, too! Why can't we all have jobs like that?

But, despite my rampant jealousy (I have to spend Wednesday in lab meeting and doing experiments, after all), Zach did have a consolation prize: apparently, since the hotel room is booked for the evening as well, someone from his office needs to use it. It turns out Zach is up for it (they rotate who gets the room each time they do this "bonding" thing - yes, they've done it multiple times). So, free hotel time! And there is a 50% possibility of both a jacuzzi and a view of Puget Sound. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

In other news, when I was staying at my mother's house last week, I took the time to glance through some old photographs she was sorting through - dividing them between herself and my father, due to the divorce. But, while I was there, I stole a few away (temporarily) and saved them using a friend's scanner. I had to work quickly, lest their absence was noticed. They weren't anything special. Just a dozen photographs or so from my childhood that I wanted to scan - since I'd brought no photos with me to Seattle when I hastily made the move ten months ago.

But, now the photographs are again safe and sound in my mother's house. I'm thinking of posting a few of these now and then, particularly when I have little else to post. So, here are two off the top of my head:

Talk about dazed and confused. I'm not sure what I'm thinking here - should I throw up on the trumpet, or just stare at it for a few more days. Brain damage? Or do I always look that confused? I suppose my early days showed little promise for music. Also, note the two chins.

Yeah, so I liked food a little. I still do, apparently. In any photograph where food seems to be present, at any age, if I'm not holding said food, I'm in the process of reaching out to claim it... and probably to guard it with my very existence. Yeeha.

Trapper Keeper

Work yesterday was, at best, a struggle. Picture me, walking into lab at 11:00AM (I'd slept alarmless due to a delayed flight that got me in bed by 2:00AM), looking at my bench, scratching my head, and mumbling, "What the hell was I up to when I left?" Luckily, within the hour, I recalled that I work on some odd organism called Tetrahymena. The afternoon unfolded sloppily from there.

Zach rescued me last night with dinner from Cedar's, my favorite Indian restaurant in Seattle, and a couple of episodes of South Park. Being Comedy-Centralless through most of high school and college, my South Park experiences consisted of:
--the movie
--one episode: the Cartman's Traper Keeper episode spoof on Akira ("We... are... Trapper Keeper..."), and Ike's bumbled election as kindergarten president.

But now, with Zach's posession of seasons two and three of South Park, I've been busting at the gut for the past forty-eight hours. My favorite character so far: Ike. I was in tears during the episode with his bris.

And now for something completely different:

Final Trip to Illinois highlights:
--Augie!!! I took Thursday and Friday to give Zach a tour or two, and see some former profs - Hammer (still reeling from the bounty of his most recent paleo excursion to Antarctica) and Strasser in geology, and an assortment of biology/chem folks. Zach is convinced I should pursue a Ph.D. in paleontology. After conversing with my former genetics prof and my former biochem prof, however, I'm more convinced than ever that I should dig my heels in to molecular/cellular biology. Now, can I borrow someone's GRE scores?

--I was particularly touched by one former chemistry professor who, after talking to me, dropped a quarter of his infamously-delicious cheesecake off at my mother's place for me. Needless to say, his mouth-watering desserts are known throughout the campus, and I was always delighted in Gen Chem II when he'd bring bunches in for his hard-working students. But I was floored to learn he took the time and effort to bring me some of the fruits of his cooking labor. What a college!

--Blue Cat, Blue Cat, Blue Cat. And let's not forget Theo's Java Club and Java Hut.

--Met up with Tony and Lauren on Sunday - and we dove in right where we left off: MarioKart, Whitey's Ice Cream, and Family Guy. Good vegging times.

--ComedySportz!!!! I FINALLY got to see Sarah perform!!! Rock on.

--Quality time with my parents (I'm getting used to the "divorce" thing - suprise, surprise), my sister (stopped by on her way to move to Chicagoland), and my mammaw (up visiting form Arkansas).

--Thin mints! My sister brought me two boxes. Must... ration...

--Meeting Zach's charming brother, and introducing Zach to my mother and mammaw.

--India House... and then listening to Zach puke it up in an empty Augustana Bookstore bag. His apparent thought: "Oh... my food!" Doh well.

All-in-all, a good trip. But, three friends were woefully out of town at the time. As were four professors I've been eager to see. I suppose that means a brief stopover sometime this summer is in order!

Journey's End

They say that the best part about vacation is going home; and I suppose that's the stage I'm at now. I miss home; I miss my bed. It's time to go home, Jimmy. So, I begin my long trip back to Seattle this afternoon. This trip was rather nice, don't get me wrong (I'll update on the last few days later) - but it's time for Jimmy to move along home.

When Zach picks me up and drives me home tonight (yeah, his flight lands several hours ahead of mine... so he's skirting home to get his car... only to drive right back to SeaTac - what a great boyfriend), I can't wait to see this...

Away is nice, but home is best. My mammaw used to say that to me. I always feel odd when I agree with her. Shoot.

Doctor No

My mother invited my mammaw up from Arkansas for a visit that partially coincided with my Midwest excursion. In my mind, it might ultimately create more problems than it's worth - as I'm not "known" to my extended kin, if you take my meaning. Most live still in Arkansas, and are highly devoted to their religious and cultural beliefs - many of which I do not share. You get my meaning. But, my mammaw is more of an exception to that rule, and delights at the "culture clash" that ensues when she comes to a place as "cosmopolitan" as the Quad Cities.

Yep, the QC is diverse and cosmopolitan compared to Arkansas.

Anyway, upon deplaning yesterday, she saw my sister (also visiting) and I meeting her at the airport, she immediately pelted us with questions. Keep in mind that she isn't racist. But living in Arkansas for over seventy years can take its toll.

Mammaw: "Have you discovered a cure for aging yet?"
[I don't work on aging at all in the lab.]
Me: "No, sorry. No fountain of youth."
Mammaw: "Well, you better get working on it!... Who knows how much longer I'll last." [laughs]
Me: "I'll see what I can do."
Mammaw: "You tell that Dr. Wow to get on it!"
My sister: "Um, Mar - I think it's 'Dr. Yao.'"
Mammaw: "Oh, is it?... Well I plum thought it was 'Dr. Wow.' Tell me, does he look oriental?"
Me [shifting awkwardly]: "Well, he was born and raised in Taiwan."
Mammaw: "Oh, so I reckon he does look like an oriental."

Wow.
Doctor Wow.

Homefront

I took great joy in giving Zach a tour of my former college yesterday and today. All the buildings - all my old stomping grounds. All the embarrassing spots where I did dumb things:
--The seat in the "big lecture hall" in New Science that I broke by sitting in it freshman year during a vertebrate zoology lecture.
--The chemistry lab where Ruth spilled acid on my hand.
--The spot near the bottom of the stairs in the Olin Center where I used the highly toxic spray-on glue to make a poster with L'erin and Katie for human physiology... I'm sure the fumes screwed with my personal physiology more than anything.
--The Olin stairs... how many times did I fall down those?
--The elevator in Old Main that I got stuck in.
--The Dunkleosteus fossil in the Fryxell Museum... when I was 9 or 10, I'd always go in there and turn the eyes around. Yeah, I'm cool.
--Wallenberg Hall... where I almost knocked down the huge horse head sculpture when I was 11.
--The wall in the College Center I'd always run into, thinking it was a door.
--The practice room in Bergendoff Hall that I locked myself into... on several occasions.
--The old band room (now the Black Box Theater) where I almost fell down with my bass during a Youth Symphony rehearsal.

I was a smart child.

I'm still going back to campus tomorrow. Though I got to see two of my favorite geology professors (Strasser and Hammer... oh yeah!), and a few other notables, I'm still trying to seek out the bio and biochem profs! They keep disappearing... damn meetings and such. Tomorrow's my last chance... wish me luck!

Last night I joined Sarah, PJ, Zach, and co. at the Blue Cat, where Zach, being an awesome boyfriend, sensed my family woes and bought me a double strong gin and tonic. Good boy. Then, a few of us ventured to Fusion - my first QC gay bar experience in 10 months. Lemme tell you... now I really miss the bars in Seattle and Portland. And I appreciate them all the more now.

Vacation is nice and all... but I'm starting to miss seeing those mountains when I look out of my window.

Time and Again

Figures... it snowed! Here I come, after nine months in Seattle... back to my old stomping grounds along the Illinois/Iowa frontier, and it freaking snows. Actually, I shouldn't complain. Four simple inches. And it melted from the pavement by daybreak. But this is the last time I pay attention to the "forecast" and leave my nice winter boots and heavy coat back in Seattle.

But alas, I didn't have time to make a snowman.

Monday:
Don't laugh, but I actually brought some piano books with me. I was never really particularly good at the piano to begin with, but I figured, "Hey, what the hell... it's been ten months... let's see how bad I've gotten." Wow. Pretty bad. I was lucky to get through the slow movement of a rather simple Mozart sonata. Strange - I have a grandmother with perfect pitch, a father who sang opera... and my musical talent has become about as potent as my lust for women. Oopsie!

Lunch with my father - we talked politics, of course. Afternooning with Zach and Sarah in Sarah's very lovely downtown Rock Island office. Zach and I brought gifts of every kind from Seattle and bestowed them upon her very-deserving self, and ate her boss's M & Ms. Oopise.

Dinner with my mother, and then Zach and I collided with Sarah (again!) and Patrick at... The Blue Cat Brew Pub!!! A Quad City jewel I indeed missed. And I will have to venture there again... lots. *sigh* Nostalgia washed over me as I pondered whether to order an Off the Rail Pale Ale or a Big Bad Dog. Good times.

Tuesday:
My father showed me his new apartment in East Moline. Small, but he seems content. I'll refrain from further post-divorce talk, since the visit is still very much a work-in-progress. But my fater does seem quite interested in seeing Zach again (they met in Seattle months ago), which I take as a very encouraging sign. Then, I packed an overnight bag and headed to...

Iowa City! Home of the University of Iowa (my "almost-college"), and two close science-savvy friends of mine from college - Jill and Tim. Both are research technicians now... like myself. But unlike me, both are making great strides in their "future plans." One is bound for medical school in the fall, the other is proceeding with the application process. We dined at the Brown Bottle, gabbed and traded gossip, walked in several circles around the downtown (this is what happens when I lead), and then settled at Joe's Place for five hours - drinking, laughing, and waxing philosophically. I missed Jill and Tim considerably, and was just beaming as I thought, "Wow... I'm sitting next to utter awesomeness!" At the end of the evening, I bade Tim a reluctant farewell, and Jill graciously let me sleep on her couch.

Today (so far):
This morning, after dropping Jill off at her lab, I walked around the downtown area a little, remembering the summer I spent here between my sophomore and junior years in college as an intern in the U of I's Department of Microbiology. I thought I'd want to venture past the dorm I'd lived in, and my favorite jogging spots and eating establishments (Big Mike's Super Subs, Mondo's Tomato Pie, Panchero's... Notice how I seem to dwell on food?); instead, I was absorbed by Small Things (to steal a phrase from my favorite novel):
--the new dome on the Old Capitol
--my spot on the steps of Schaeffer Hall in the Pentacrest where I'd eat lunch
--the spot on Clinton Street where I attempted and failed to do a cartwheel (and littered the street with my pocket-contents) after an awesome night at One-Eyed Jakes

Yeah, yeah. I'm a sap. Sue me.

Anyway, after getting a parking ticket from the IA City Meter Reader ("Five f*cking minutes over time?!... damned Midwestern efficiency..."), I heard the Quad Cities again calling my name, and ventured back to Rock Island.

Homestead

Greetings from Illinois! I now type from the tiny room (How did I ever survive in such close quarters?) that was, for nine years, my bedroom - now swiftly becoming a study, of sorts.

Mischief:

Friday:
As promised, Zach took me to breakfast at the Jitterbug... you know, you just have to love a restaurant with a clever menu... breakfast potatoes are "jitterspuds" and simple toast becomes "organic freedom hemp nut toast." Rock on. In preparation for the usual butterflies-in-the-stomach that I usually get when I fly, I also ordered a mimosa ("Cheers, darling!")... just to take that edge off.

The flight from SeaTac to Chicago was rather uneventful... well... except for the four-year-old terror running unsupervised up and down the aisles screaming and crying... sounding as if she had colic, but the whole plane knew she just really wanted more chocolate. Her mother gets the Bad Mother award for allowing Rosemary's Baby free reign on the plane. The flight attendants had to make special announcements for Bad Mother: "Ladies and gentlemen, when our captain turned on the fasten seatbelt sign, it was intended for all passengers - including any small children who may have been wandering about the cabin unsupervised..." When Bad Mother and Rosemary's Baby deplaned, we applauded.

Upon landing in Midway, I braved and mastered the Orange Line El, the #29 bus, and a brief walking tour of the downtown... only to be thwarted by the elevator in Poje's apartment. I needed the 14th floor... and somehow ended up on the 37th... Hmmmmm. Jimmy, you're a winner.

Anyhoo, a mini-Augustana reunion ensued... Mike, Anna, Poje, Jen, Bagley and I ventured to Navy Pier for dinner, and I quickly realized I was the only non-student member of the group... they're all getting pharmacy, P.A., P.T., law, and art history advanced degrees. Go ya'll! Boo me? We'll see. Anyway, after dinner, it was back to Poje's place to rendezvous with Amundsen, Carey and his girlfriend. We ventured to Fado, which was unbelievably packed... drinking, chatting, catching up, so forth. Good times. Interesting stumbles back to Poje's.

Saturday:
Kudos for Poje and Jen for hosting my sorry butt overnight. We rose, gathered with Mike, Anna, and Bagley, and took advantage of the proximity of Poje's apartment to... well... everything-in-Chicago... and watched the Chicago River get dyed green (at least between the Columbus and Michigan bridges) for Saint Patrick's Day. I completely forgot that, thought St. Paddy's isn't until this Wednesday, Chicago begins celebrating early. Upon first arriving, I figured we'd missed it - the river was already green!

"Oh, no! We missed it!"

But, no. That's the Chicago River's natural state these days. Sure enough, bagpipe bands arrived, along with the "Blarney Island Rescue" boat, and the Chicago Police boat. To my horror, I found myself recounting my childhood wish to play the bagpipes to my former college mates, and attempted quickly to distract them from such a revealing embarrassment by pointing out the Brazilian flag at the University of Chicago next to us. (It didn't work.) At the appointed hour, the bagpipping began, and the river went from muck-green to kryptonite/toxic-waste-green between the Columbus and Michigan bridges.

Gotta love those Chicago Irish.

Finished product. And this is why I love Chicago.

After celebrating my (regrettably nonexistent) Irish heritage, we walked along Michigan Avenue and back down Northwestern University. Mike, Anna, and Bagley bid us farewell, and Poje and Jen graciously let me veg with them back at Poje's (I saw my first episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy... I could get addicted...), until my host for Saturday got off work. Kudos to Jen and Poje for being f*cking fabulous hosts. Kudos to Mike, Anna, and Bagley for venturing up from suburbia. You all rock.

I ventured to Boystown late in the evening to meet up with David, quite possibly the best ex I could ever ask for. We'd dated most of my junior year in college, just before all the Seattleness began in my life, and remained friends since. I hadn't seen him in over a year - so catching up at dinner was an absolute riot. I realized what an influence David had over me - he was the first guy I'd dated to dare to get me to step out of my Comfort Zone - not to just stick my toe into the pool to test the temperature, but to fling my whole body into the deep end - laughing all the way. I owe him a great deal. Hell, I'd also argue that any guy I'd dated since him owes him a great deal. I'd like to think I've become a much better person to date.

Sunday:
David hadn't been feeling well the past few days, so we took it easy Saturday night. Sunday, I got the royal tour of Boystown - up and down Clark, Belmont, Halsted, Broadway - the works. Did a little shopping, and a lot of walking. Kudos to the F*CKING ADORABLE twentysomething who kept calling me "cutie" in one particular establishment. Doublekudos to me for putting on my best "aw shucks" grin in response. Regrettably, my time in Boystown was indeed too short. Hell, my time in Chicago was way too short. Resolution: vacation in Chicago. No visit-to-the-QC. Just Chicago. In the future. It shall be done.

David and I parted on the El near Midway, and I rushed to the gate, only to find I was a little ahead of schedule. Thank goodness Midway has its assortment of bars and grills, so I could have my take-the-edge-off alcoholic beverage. When I got to the gate to board the plane, I discovered something I had overlooked when I booked a Chicago-to-Moline/Quad Cities flight: the plane had freaking PROPELLORS. Tiny thing. What I like to call a strap on flight. Engine noise plagued us passengers (about twenty or so total) for the duration of the forty-minute-flight. But I somehow managed to pay attention to my latest copy of The Economist long enough to absorb something constructive. Bonus: we landed five minutes early. Double Bonus: though I'd rented a car, I had friendly faces greeting me at the terminal - Zach (who'd flown to the QC the day prior to visit his own family), TeAnna, and Sarah. Wo-hoo!

My mom waited up for me (she shouldn't have), and gave me the post-divorce tour of the house I'd lived in for fourteen years. Wow. Many changes. But I was too wiped out to remember them all. Needless to say, this house changed much in the ten months since I'd been here. Today, it'll be interesting to see what changes have engulfed the Quad Cities (particularly my old college). Wish me luck. On the one hand, all is somewhat familiar... on the other, I'm a stranger in a strange land.

The Return of the Native

More like "the Return of the Naieve Naive (Hey, I can spell!)." But whatever.

Tonight, I pack like mad.
Tomorrow morning, Zach is taking me to breakfast ("The Jitterbug or the 14 Carrot Cafe?... Decisions! Decisions!..."), and then to SeaTac. Yep, I'm flying to Chicago tomorrow. I'll be hosted their for two days by an assortment of characters (some college mates, an ex-boyfriend, and so forth), before departing again for ye ol' stomping grounds. Yep, a week in the Quad Cities.

What will it be like? I don't know. I haven't been there since June of last year. But hopefully I'll have a few opportunities to let ya'll know in the coming week. Stay tuned. In the meantime, this should just about sum things up:

Midwest, here I come!

The Weather Gods

Of course this would be the view I'm greeted with here in Seattle for the past three days... one day away from when I must leave for Illinois!...

Look at those mountains!

Mt. Rainier... I haven't seen you in three weeks!

After weeks of cold, clouds, and drizzle, the sun comes out a mere three days before I depart. Ay, those Weather Gods are a cruel bunch. And (of course) there's a chance of snow back in the Midwest.

P.S.: Trees, flowers, and shrubs all along Eastlake are blooming, too. Sheer torture!

Timeless

Delay men (or women!) on Mars.
New manned missions to the Moon can wait.

You want a reason to repair and maintain the Hubble Space Telescope until it is replaced ASAP with a more advanced model?

Here's your reason:

The Hubble Ultra Deep Field
(a.k.a. the Universie 13 billion years ago... some 700 million years after the Big Bang)

There's more out there!

Full Circle

When I was younger, I learned a simple rule; I believe the Boy Scouts of America are learning it right now... sort of:

"What goes around... comes around."
I just hope this whole situation doesn't start a chain reaction of discrimination and counterdiscrimination between the BSA and states like Connecticut.

And in other news, Washington State does have its own Defense of Marriage Act... but it's nice to know that Seattle Mayor Nickels is willing to stir the pot a little. Sha-ZAM!

Papyrus

Too bad I never read it:

You're Ulysses, by James Joyce
"Most people are convinced that you don't make any sense, but compared to what else you could say, what you're saying now makes tons of sense. What people do understand about you is your vulgarity, which has convinced people that you are at once brilliant and repugnant. Meanwhile you are content to wander around aimlessly, taking in the sights and sounds of the city. What you see is vast, almost limitless, and brings you additional fame. When no one is looking, you dream of being a Greek folk hero."

Which book are you?

"Greek folk hero"?... I don't think so... more like "Vulcan mystic."

Parallax

Timeline:

May 2003:
--Graduate college.

June 2003:
--Move from Illinois to Seattle.
--Start new job.

Thursday:
--Zach and I attend a concert put on by the Augustana Choir in downtown Seattle. First up - alumni reception... my first ever wine-and-cheese party. Um, wow? People come up: "Hi. I'm so-and-so, class of such-a-year [examples: 1938, 1940, 1967, 1977, 1994]." Me: "Uh, hi. Class of 2003." Awkward handshake ensues. I believe I'm experiencing what they call the Augustana Community. After awhile, it becomes comforting - and handshakes become less awkward. Perhaps it's the wine.
--Augustana Community continues: choir members filter in-and-out... old friends, acquaintances, crushes. Zach is amused. Hugs, "Oh-how-are-you-doing!", and so forth.
--More class of 2003ers file in. An example:
Me: "Jess! I thought I saw you in the parking lot!"
Jess: "Oh, I thought I saw you, too! But you'd disappeared quickly."
Me: "Yeah, I saw you but thought I must be mistaken, since I didn't know you moved out here. So, I dove behind a minivan real quick to avoid being seen... but instead I hit my head on the minivan and it made that big 'clunk' sound. So I just stayed there and waited for Zach."
(Jess later noticed that I hadn't changed a bit.)
--A class of 2001er files in. Back then: was one of my big sisses for an exchange event when I was pledging a fraternity. But now: Ph.D. student at the UW. Exchange of numbers, laughter, so forth.
--And Zach and I got hit on by the fiftysomething husband of an alumni. But Zach didn't know we were being hit on until it was already over.
--Concerttime = Nostalgiaville. Same faces, only nine months older. "Oh! I want to be back in college!"
--Afterwards, I took part in the traditional singing of the alma mater ("By the Mighty Mississippi") outside in a huge circle. Hey, it was a small school - close-knit group!
--The funny thing is, I never really considered myself part of that close-knit group until now. As an alumni. *shrugs* Hey, I'll take it!
--Hosted two friends in the choir overnight - Tony and Bob. Visits, newgossip, etc. Took them out for a snack and a drink on Capitol Hill - culture for them, since they're breeders. Got them to bed late... and got them up early. The verdict: I think I'm generally a poor host. Live and learn.

Friday:
--The class of 2001er (big sis from pledge exchange), Liz, invites Zach and I out with her friends for her birthday. More nostalgia, and meeting-of-her-friends at the Emigrant pub in the University District. New pub for me, loud band, but Guinness abounds.

--Weirdness: Among Liz's assortment of friends was a familiar face... a neighbor I'd met last month at the caucuses. This is the second time Worlds Have Collided due to my locale in Wallingford. Must be the fates.

And now, on an unrelated note, I did an images search on google for "Guinness," in the search for a rockin' image to put up for the Irish pub we went to with Liz and company. Here's the most rockin' image of all!

Alpaca? Guinness? I'll bite.

Closer to Home

News in the Pacific Northwest this morning:

Multnomah County, Oregon (Portland and vicinity) is hours from issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples... maybe.

San Francisco, California
Bernalillo, New Mexico (though now invalid)
New Paltz, New York
and now Portland, Oregon???...

I knew I liked Portland. Even for just considering this - they rock.

Ah, what a tangled web we weave.

Grace Under Pressure

I'm not one to think that Mondays are inherently bad... due to their locale at the beginning of the week - the end of the weekend... You know, back-to-work, no-sleeping-in, what-the-hell-was-I-doing-on-Friday... No. I'm made of naivete - to the core. So, with my head in the clouds, and not a care in the world, I strolled into the lab yesterday, and everything began to go wrong.

Well, not everything. But many things.

I'm still obviously trying to cope with the idea that sometimes-nothing-works-in-research, and the notion that just-because-it-doesn't-work-doesn't-mean-you're-a-moron. For some reason, these concepts are counterintuitive to me. When the PCR fails, or all of my samples look like my negative control, Jamesbrain pours out, "This is not how it should be. You have done something wrong, and wasted valuable time and resources."

Luckily, several events kept me sane enough to do some serious Damage Control in the late afternoon, rather than dwelling on this-is-not-how-it-should-be:

--For Patrick's birthday, we had conveyerbelt sushi in Fremont. I always thought the idea of sushi delivered conveyerbelt style would be... well... aside from seeming somewhat tasteless in principle (Why am I suddenly such a class snob? I was born in Arkansas!), I'd also feared it wouldn't be the safest venue in which to consume raw fish. But, I was wrong! Freaking awesome. And it was a nice break in the middle of the day, just as my experiments were falling apart around me.

--Hadley came by the lab just at the lowest-of-the-low points, and delivered a reassuring rendition of "James, I'm having just as much bad luck... and besides, they say we technicians have to spend our first year learning that nothing works... so we get less frustrated when we spend the next eight years in graduate school..." [Hadley's going to do the M.D./Ph.D. Thing next year... hopefully she'll pick the University of Washington!] She also brought me up from the depths-of-self-hatred concerning the fact that I've never published. Yep, never. And what does the UW want in their applicants? Yep, you guessed it - publications. I just saw one of our undergraduate aides rejected from the M.D./Ph.D. program for lack of publications. Hopefully the M.C.B. Ph.D. program is less picky. If I ever decide to grow up and apply myself. *twiddles thumbs*

But, conveyerbeltsushilunch, advicefromHadley, and some later advicefromPatrick all worked together to get me through what would've otherwise been ten horrific hours in lab. I still needed therapy, though... to burn off steam.

So, I did what any manly man would do.

I went home and baked about 9 dozen chocolate-chip cookies.
An old Arkansas recipe.

(Pardon me while I flex my muscles.)

Today I brought a huge bushel of them into lab with the following note attached:

"If I can't earn your respect through good science, then (God as my witness) I'll buy your respect with food."

That is all.