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Resolutions with Reservations

Well, since I've conveniently misplaced the resolutions I made a year ago (but not a year a year ago), I'm putting this year's where I won't lose them: here.

Of course, my resolutions this year have been made without knowledge of my possible future status as a graduate student. Should that happen, I reserve the right to discard several of these in favor of "school stuff." But, that said:

Ten (or so) Must-Do Items for 2005:

1. Move with speed, dignity, grace efficiency, and prudence:
Alas no - I am not referring to dancing or aerobics or any other activity that might give some of you a few laughs. This is the sort of move where James-packs-up-his-belongings-and-makes-a-new-dwelling. Sort of a given task anyway for this coming year. Grad school or no, I will be making some sort of move this summer, whether it be to a new place in Seattle, or to Iowa City, Chicago, or San Francisco. And, I'll have Zach with me. We've had the all-important discussions about "future" and, though he has his own place now, we'll move in together this summer. It just depends on which city we'll be in when it's all said and done. The only addition I'd like to make is that we move with more foresight than I personally had when I moved out here in the summer of 2003. "Moving" then pretty much consisted of Cramming-a-Buick-Full-of-Radom-Sh*t-and-Shipping-What-Wouldn't-Fit. Not the smartest way to move. Thus, there's room for improvement.

2. Hang your head not-so-low:
Zach and I were girlishly giddy when our friend Paul stepped in town briefly for the holidays. But, imagine my surprise when, after a few beers at our favorite pub, he blurted out that I'm a "bundle of insecurities." While I can come up with a hundred or so reasons why that is not true, Paul's observations merely hammer home that, based on the way I carry myself and present myself, especially in crowds (read: more than two people), no wonder people to think that I lack the confidence to flush a toilet. But, rest assured, I've plenty of gung-ho know-how to not only flush a toilet, fix a toilet, and do my taxes, but I can also do assorted "molecular biology things" (great for parties!). I'm real big on the humble, simple image, in regards to both myself and others. One of my biggest turn-offs is blind, simple, unsusbstantiated, and unsupported arrogance. I find the trait so repulsive that, as Paul indirectly pointed out, I carry myself sometimes (or, oftentimes) as the personification of Anti-Arrogance... painfully humble, timid, shy, and unassuming (until I've had a few drinks). But, I suppose, if I'm going to make it Out There in the Big World, I should let my knowledge show in more straightforward ways, rather than getting drunk and talking about the importance of referrendums for bringing the EU Constitution into force. I don't need to hang my head "high." But, perhaps I should hang it not-so-low.

3. Find a new "artistic" outlet:
Since graduating college, it has become painfully clear how dependent I was on my musical talents/abilities/whatever as a soul-enriching "release" from day-to-day life. Now, out here in Seattle, with no piano or double bass, I've slowly Gone Crazy. Occasionally, through the Seattle Public Library system, I've found a keyboard to "doodle" with. But, I need to find Something Else - a new outlet, or easy, reliable access to a piano or double bass. Zach draws. Other friends sing, paint, sculpt, photograph, play in orchestras (*sigh*), or what-have-you. But, my soul is overdue for some enriching.

4. Up the affection:
With Zach as the major exception, I've been remarkably less affectionate with people this past year than I usually am. I'm not talking as much about kisses and hugs as I am expression - letting friends I'm particularly close to know how much I depend on them, and especially how I wouldn't be where I am now without them. My circle of friends has also become progressively smaller. I should... try to reverse the trend... by both forging new relationships and breathing new life into existing ones. Speaking of which, I should also visit some folks I haven't seen in awhile.

5. Read more:
Duh. I like to read. But I never read enough.

6. Strive for physical perfection:
To quote my list of Must-Do's of 2003: "Turn my odd, awkward, pale body into a tan, sculpted, muscular, sexy marvel." I didn't do it then, and I may not do it now. But, it's nice to have goals.

7. Add another hole:
I like this whole piercing thing. Maybe I'll go back to Sweet Sweet Ted and ask him to re-open the closed hole in my left lobe, while perhaps adding a matching one on the right.

8. Tone down the hypochondria:
We all have our Moments... and mine got me in trouble several times this year... most recently culminating in an entirely unnecessary trip to the ER due to a pre-existing hearing problem that sprang up in a most unorthodox way. But James, let's not jump to conclusions so quickly next time, okay?

9. Care less:
I've already spent the past few years slowly toning down my annoying-habit-of-caring-about-what-others-think. But, there's still much-needed room for improvement. Some of it, I believe, is due to obscure (Southern) social "ideas" that some more influential relatives ingrained in me during my young, brief tenure as an Arkansas resident. Ah, the impressionable years!

10. Cook more:
I've made marked progress over the past year as far as my previously infantile cooking skills are concerned. But, I still have a long way to go. This resolution rests on the shaky assumption that, the more I cook, the better off my cooking will be. This assumption is especially critical since my boss continuously reminds me that lab work "is just like cooking." So, improvements in the kitchen could conceivably lead to a boom in my career. Get crackin', kiddo.

Bonus: Either find some way to fix the Comments Section, or get rid of it altogether.

I only have 365 days. Better get to work.
Happy New Year!

Athleticisms and Other Manly Things

For the second year in a row, my PI has generously provided me with a holiday gift. It was very touching, especially since I'm far from a model scientist, and don't quite live up to the standards set in place by my predecessor. But, maybe the holidays are also about forgiveness.

This year's gift is a gift certificate to R.E.I., conveniently located a half mile or so south of work. But, those of you who know me must indeed realize that I barely have the coordination it takes to (peanut) butter toast, let alone do Athletic Things. Hell, I walked into a wall this morning. So, I'm not the kind of Y-chromosome who needs lots of baseball bats, phallic skis, and big, manly tents. Which begs the question, what should I get from R.E.I. with my gift certificate?

Though I've been in Seattle for over a year now, I still don't have a good rain coat. Thus, that's been the most frequent suggenstion from Zach and others. But, any other ideas? Obviously, asking this question with my Comments section down is a bit daft... but I can always take relevant suggestions via e-mail or IM. So, class, any thoughts?

Sorry, Sarah, no kayaks.

Safety Dance

I bought the Star Wars trilogy on DVD some time ago. I don't mean the "original" version I grew up with. Nor do I mean the "revised" versions that came out in the theaters some time ago (with the all-important computer-generated creatures and digitally-remastered sound and picture quality). No, I now mean the UltraSuperRevised This-Time-I-Got-It-Right Version George Lucas insisted on releasing. Why? Most likely because he's a child.

I've watched these three UltraSuperRevised This-Time-I-Got-It-Right films, and what I've come to realize is that, all in all, I want my Ewok song back.

You know what I'm talking about, don't you? At the end of Return of the Jedi... when the Death Star has been blown up (without the ridiculous shockwave, thank you), and the Ewoks are celebrating and jumping around and dancing and clapping... and playing their xylophones made impromptu from the helmets of Storm Troopers.

You know what I'm talking about, don't you? The Ewoks sing a song. A happy song. And Luke looks at ghosts of Obi-Wan, Yoda, and his father as a Jedi! And surprisesurprise, his father is Hayden Christensen! But who cares about that, really? Sure, the Hayden appearance in place of a more seasoned-looking Jedi is entirely uncalled for... but I could stomach that if only I could have my Ewok song.

You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Am I the only one who went through most of kindergarten (when I finally saw the film) humming that tune? Am I the only one who used to jump up and down and feel giddy when I heard it? Are th rest of you dead? Jeez Louise - they got rid of my Ewok song!!! Of course, Lucas ditched that with his "revised" versions, thinking the audience would be so enraptured by the new celebration scenes from the saga's main planet settings that they wouldn't notice the queer-sounding flute ditty that resembles the tune cardinals would most likely make after smoking chronic like a champion. Well, I noticed. And the lack-of-Ewok-song plus the Hayden-cameo in the UltraSuperRevised This-Time-I-Got-It-Right Version makes James want to b*tchslap Mr. Lucas.

Badly done. Badly done.

"What?! They got rid of my SOLO?! This means war!"

Update: Once again, the Poje has come through by providing me with an mp3 of my giddy Ewoks dancing the night away. Thou art truly righteous!

Overkill

By now, we all know about the magnitude 9.0 earthquake off the coast of Sumatra which, earthquake and tsunami combined, have led to over 50,000 deaths in Indonesia, Myanmar, Thailand, Malaysia, Bangladesh, India, Sri Lanka, the Maldives, and Somalia. By the way, if this is news to you, crawl out of your cave and get informed.

On our way to work yesterday, Z mentioned that he wasn't familiar with the geographic framework of the effected areas. After some coaxing, I realized he wasn't precisely sure where Sri Lanka is, and why it has been surpassed only by Indonesia in the sheer number of casualties. Mr. Geography to the rescue! Luckily, we share a bus to work, and I had ample time to explain Sri Lanka's precise position in relation to Sumatra, the Bay of Bengal, and the southern tip of the Indian subcontinent. Unfortunately, I wanted to say more for, as I thought everyone already knew, some of the areas hardest hit have pre-existing political "situations" that may turn a tragedy into a nightmare.

I didn't have time to go into the Tamil Tigers continued insurgency in northern and eastern parts of Sri Lanka. Nor did I get to explain how the recent spat within the Sinhalese-dominated government in Colombo, which culminated in President Chandrika Bandaranaike-Kumaratunga sacking her prime minister, Ranil Wickramasinghe, who had been seen by some prominent Sinhalese in government as offering too many concessions to the separatist Tamil Tigers, and taking over three cabinet portfolios herself. The new prime minister, Mahinda Rajapakse, had been unable to restart the peace process at its previous brisk trot and, combined with internal squabbles in the Tamil independence movement, had effectively left the peace talks at a near stop. And, of course, I now fear (and feel we should all fear) that recovery in Sri Lanka will be a P.R. battle between government at the Tigers for Who Can Get Relief Aid to the People Faster.

Since I didn't get to tell Z all of this on the bus, I just left him a message regarding it on his mobile.

Nor did I get to move on to Aceh, the Indonesian province closest to the earthquake's epicenter and the region most hard hit by the shaking itself and the tsunami. Again, I'm surprised people don't seem to know anything about this, but a separatist movement has, more or less, been trying to wrestle Aceh from the central government on or off since the late 1970s. Which infrastructure and communications already compromised by this near-ongoing conflict, relief agencies have already been bemoaning the difficulty they've had gaining access to the hardest-hit areas on the coastal areas of Aceh. The new Indonesian President, Mr. Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, has barely been in office long enough to assert his authority in any way. So, again, we might have a race between the Aceh separatists and the Jakarta government to See Who Can Get Relief Aid to the People Faster.

Aside from the sheer magnitude of this tragedy, and the frigtening geological reality of this planet we reside on (I myself recently became aware that the Puget Sound area is especially in danger of tsunami damage from well-placed earthquakes in Japan, Alaska, or off the Washington coast), I found myself shocked that many people around me don't seem to have one bright clue about the political situations in some of these countries. I was raised in an environment where it was not only my right but my responsibility to stay as in formed as possible on World Events, Goings-On, and So Forth. Reading up on Tamil Tigers in Sri Lanka, the Aceh separatist movement, the north-south divide in Nigeria, rebel movements in souther Thailand, the latest Quebec sovereignty movement, and other global issues have been a part of my daily existence as much as checking today's weather before I get dressed and eat breakfast. And, I suppose I always assume, everyone else did the same. Is it wrong of me to have these expectations? I've been told by a steady stream of people over the past few days that it apparently is wrong of me, and that I'm prone to "overkill" when it comes to the relevant details (I guess Z didn't really need a five minute phone message regarding the Tamil Tigers to understand the complexities of the Sri Lankan situation). Most people, I've been told, don't know, or worse yet, don't care about worldwide political situations. I find it perplexing, but figured I'd better vent through posting rather than relive this situation that occurred on the bus home yesterday...

Man: "Did you hear about Indonesia?"
Woman: "What's Indonesia?"
Man: "Some island country somewhere... but a bunch of people were killed by an earthquake and tsunami. And more will die of disease probably."
Woman: "Why don't people help them?"
Man: "I guess it's hard for them to get to the damaged areas. Beats me why."
Woman: "That's stupid. Why don't they just go there and help them?!"
Me [in my head]: "DIPSH*T, haven't you even heard of the Aceh separatist movement?!"
Me [out loud]: "It's more complicated than that."
Woman: "Some excuse. Honey, where should we go shopping tonight?"

Argh.

But, for anyone interested in giving money or another form of aid to the earthquake/tsunami victims, the Washington Post has a pretty decent list of aid organizations accepting donations. I'd also like to recommend the International Medical Corps and Médecins Sans Frontières. I believe both the I.M.C. and M.S.F. are begging primarily for monetary donations rather than clothing and perishables. I figured best to give money since, well, they know best how to spend it.

Rubberneck

"They like to watch."

Z was kind enough today to take me on a ferry ride (we stopped playing cards long enough to enjoy an unseasonably great view of the Olympic Mountains) and then through the Seattle Art Museum's Spainish exploration exhibit (one last look) before we tottered back to our bus stop.

And there we saw one of Seattle's finest tackling an obviously distrubed (read: crazy) woman who was weilding around a broken bottle and wailing at the top of her lungs. Eventually, five patrol cars, two King County transit cars, and a fire truck were blocking traffic in front of Benaroya Hall. Stun guns out and pointed at this woman, I found myself most horrified to find myself among the gawkers, the rubberneckers... Even half a block away, we were all peering over one another to find out what she'd do next. We got an added sight as a few of the officers also arrested two men who'd been fighting a few blocks down in an unrelated incident. Z was disgusted with the spectacle, and was probably most shocked by the fact that I readily joined the crowd to see-what-was-going-on. I tried to reassure him with a nonchalant, "We're all whores for attention. It's perfectly natural."

I don't think it reassured him. But, he somehow forgave me.

As I heard another crowd-disapproving woman mutter to herself as she shook her head at us: "Look at them. Disgusting. They like to watch."

Whoops. I guess we do.

Tradition

Merry Christmas, kiddos.

I'm not one for holidays. But, I'm kind of liking some recent traditions I've built up for this Christmas/Solstice time of year. For example:

1. Waiting until Christmas morning to open my presents (I've evolved from a open-one-on-Christmas-Eve kid to a don't-open-anything-until-Christmas-morning freakazoid).
2. Wrapping gifts in Hanukkah wrapping paper, or old copies of the New York Times or the Stranger.
3. Going out for Chinese food on Christmas, with bubble tea for dessert.
4. Catsitting for a co-worker and her husband.
5. Constantly playing card games (Uno and Squadron Scramble have been our favorites this year) with Z.

No, we didn't go back to the Iowa/Illinois collision this year to visit our families. Maybe next year we'll be able to. With Z starting a new job recently and me (up until a week or so ago) ferociously finishing and sending off graduate school applications, we decided to make this holiday a blessed break for ourselves. At the Chinese restaurant, we had the all-important discussion of "what religious holidays mean to me." Z, though lacking any sort of psychology degree, again demonstrated the frightening ability to pry into my subconscious and point out things I barely knew about myself. I, lacking any sort of grace, unceremoniously burned my tongue on my Szechuan eggplant and pork. Next time, let it cool.

So, I seem to be developing some Unorthodox Traditions of my own here. Hopefully some of them will stick.

In other news, some very kind fellows have reminded me that my Comments section is indeed experiencing a minor meltdown. As usual, I'm procrastinating when it comes to
1. asking my computer-savvy friends to ID the problem and
2. solving said problem.
But, in the meantime, deplorations of any kind will have to be routed via e-mail or IM. You know the drill.

Swindled

I’m pretty sure I’m being ripped off… by my dentist.

Sure, I have Bad Teeth (the nonsensically nonspecific term coined to make bad-toothed Americans such as myself feel slightly less guilty when we partake of yet another sugary sweet)… who doesn’t these days? Well, actually, many don’t. But, just as many do. And I’m one of them. Which is odd seeing as how I’m from a family of dentists. But, my non-dentist parents have Bad Teeth, too. Runs in the family, I guess.

My mother claims It All Went Wrong when we moved to Florida just prior to my fifth birthday. We only lived in Florida for a little over three years, but apparently those were the wrong three years for me to live there. You see, Floridians (at least the ones we lived around) do not put fluoride in their drinking water. Apparently, this kind of screwed me over as I began to lose weak baby teeth and my permanent teeth began to come in with weak or thin enamel. Whoops on that one. Four cavities on baby teeth, which was (I’m sure) fun to pay for, since my parents have never had dental insurance. For my permanent teeth, two blessedly brain-laden Midwestern dentists, particularly the oh-so-missed Dr. K, prescribed an assortment of preventative measures, and I brushed and flossed like mad. I made it all the way through college with only one “small” cavity, which Dr. K lovingly took care of. I would’ve married her, except I’m gay.

But then I moved to Seattle and, upon a breathtaking recommendation from a labmate, placed my oral care in the seemingly capable hands of Dr. D. I also, for the first time in my life, became the recipient of blessed (and more-than-decent) dental insurance through my job.

1. My first visit with Dr. D was fine.

2. On the second visit six months later, he stated that my single filling (which Dr. K had put in sometime during my first two years of college) needed to be replaced. I must admit I was a little surprised (I recalled my fillings from childhood lasting longer), but figured, “Hey, he’s the dentist… he knows more about this than I do.” He said he’d replace the (metal, cheaper, more reliable) filling with a tooth-colored “composite” filling.

Me: “Dr. D, my former dentist, Dr. K, gave me that same option when I originally had this filling put on. She let me choose between a metal filling and a composite, but said that the metal fillings are cheaper and last twice as long.”
Dr. D: “Well, it didn’t last very long here. You need to floss.”
Me: “I DO floss.”
Dr. D: “Sure you do. I no longer use metal fillings, only composite.”
Me: “Does my insurance cover composite fillings?”
Dr. D: “Not entirely, you’ll have to pay more for it, not including your deductible.”
Me: “Are you SURE it needs to be replaced, then?
Dr. D: “Yes. And the cavity has spread to the neighboring tooth. I’m going to have to put a filling on that one, too.”
So, I let him replace Dr. K’s filling, and put a filling on the neighboring tooth. Composite fillings – so I paid extra.

3. Six months later (last week, actually), I return and have X-rays done.
Dr. D: “So, we’ll have you come in for some more fillings now. You need to floss.”
Me: “I DO floss.”
Dr. D: “Sure you do.”
Me: “Wait! Don’t leave. How many fillings are we talking about here?”
Dr. D: “Four. All between teeth.”

4. So, with my deductible for the year already fulfilled, I reluctantly went in this week and had four more composite fillings put in. In a month, I’ll get a bill for the portions of this “cosmetic surgery” that my insurance refuses to cover.

I’m obviously conflicted at this point. I’ve been told from age six on that I have Bad Teeth, and to expect Bad Teeth Problems unless I…
A. Brush my teeth regularly and vigorously
B. Floss with equal frequency and vigor.

As far as I know, I’ve been doing both of those things… and doing them well. Former dentists never noticed a problem (or, at least, never informed me about it). Yet, suddenly, Dr. D claims I don’t floss, and, consequently, has given me a total of six fillings within one year – replacing one relatively recent filling, and added five new ones outright. From one to six… in the span of six months.

Perhaps I’m being swindled here. Wiser and less-naïve friends and family have given me their own experiences. Z and his mother were apparent victims of an over-zealous dentist eager for expensive procedures. My own parents were arguably victims of a similar ruse from their dentist in Florida (funny how this all seems to track back to Florida… put fluoride in your water, people). The most-likely-scenario I’ve heard time and again is
A. James goes to Dr. D.
B. Dr. D notices James’ potential for Bad Teeth.
C. Dr. D notices James’ dental insurance plan
D. Let the fillings begin

[Of course, it all kind of sucks for me since I know have to pay to maintain these fillings for the rest of my (so-called) life... and I'm pretty sure I won't have such a generous dental plan after leaving this job.]

Coming from a family of dentists, however, I’m also inclined to give Dr. D the benefit of the doubt sometimes. I hear from relative dentists and past dentists that the decision to put a filling in or perform some other procedure isn’t black-or-white. There are shades of grey that may lead different dentists to come to different decisions. Perhaps if Dr. D and Dr. K examined my X-rays simultaneously, they’d come to vastly different conclusions about the best course of action.

But, even if the above case IS true, and Dr. D is a more reactionary individual when it comes to dental care, I’m overly peeved about his “bedside” manner as a dentist. The simple excuse “You need to floss” was never a valid explanation. There were no offers of troubleshooting, no explanations of how my cavities seem to spread mysteriously, no friendly advice, and I even had to stop him on his way out of the room to ask him how many fillings he wanted to put on. I expect (perhaps unreasonably) for the health care professionals I pay to monitor my well-being to not only be frank, forthcoming, and detailed in their explanations, advice, prescriptions, diagnoses, and prognoses, but entirely TRANSPARENT in their communications to me. I am the patient, and it is their responsibility to make sure I’ve been told everything. I shouldn’t have to stop Dr. D on his way out of the room to ask him how many fillings I need anymore than I should have to wrestle Dr. B (my optometrist) and hold her in a half Nelson just to find out if I need a new eyeglasses prescription or threaten Dr. E (my physician) to tell me whether or not my blood cholesterol levels are too high. Since I have not had to hold Dr. B in a half Nelson or shout out threats to Dr. E, or even ponder similar treatments to past health care professionals, Dr. D’s idea of dentistry doesn’t seem to fit this pattern of behavior.

So, perhaps I just need a new dentist. I’m contemplating it now, and frankly have six months to decide. It’s a shame to leave his office because P, the hygienist in his office who I’ve been paired with, is an absolute joy.
Then again, as some friends have pointed out, it’s just a dental appointment – who cares?! Many have shared their own Bad Teeth fixes with me to liven my mood earlier this week when I returned to work, mouth still numbed from novocaine. Of course, for every Bad Teeth person out there, I have an equal number of Good Teeth friends probably wondering why the hell I don't floss. Argh.

I’m starting to realize that I am a special breed of neurotic: one who apparently measures his value as a human being based on his oral hygiene. So, subtract six fillings from my Slave Market Value, slap me with a new barcode and warning sticker [“ADVISORY: Requires frequent dental procedures!”], and put me back on the shelf.

Funky Little Shack

Boo.

The B-52's 'Love Shack' burns to the ground.

Now, on with our lives...

Theology

Today, I sent off my last three applications for graduate schools. Now, the Waiting Game begins. Hopefully by February or March, I'll know if Iowa, Washington, California, or Chicago love me. But, honestly, at this point, I was just glad to get those f*ckers in the mail. Of course, forgetting that a week from today is Christmas, I had to wait a half hour in line at the post office to get said f*ckers in the mail. D'oh!

We hosted a successful lab holiday party last night. Well, successful in that I didn't fall over or anything. I think Z really charmed everyone... and we both lucked out at the anonymous gift exchange. He got a martini shaker, and I got a decorative chop stick set, complete with Hello Kitty chopstick holder and a golden statue of fat, happy Buddha.

Oddly enough, this is now the third Buddha statue I own, which seems rather high for a non-Buddhist. And speaking of religion, my mother informed me the other day that I've officially become an "inactive" member of the Presbyterian Church. There's little formality in the title - it just signifies that I haven't been active in that particular church for (I'd guess) over four or five years now, and they (as I believe all religious denominations should do) update their lists for both financial reasons (so I'm not counted as an active member, thus requiring the church to pay financial dues on my behalf to the regional Presbytery) and justplainhonesty. My mom, who's still an active church-goer, doesn't particularly care, mind you. Due to past family controversies, she's one of the strongest supporters of an individual's right to carve out his-or-her own personal religious beliefs, or to even have none, if they wish. But, since I haven't felt much allegiance to this church in some time, I'm wondering if I should even withdraw my name entirely from their registers. I'm sure something like that would be done after a decade or so anyway. But, with their stances on issues surrounding homosexuality are clear and, while moderate compared to some other Protestant denominations, still fall far from my own obvious concerns. Perhaps I should sever my name from them, at the very least as my own, personal protest.

If so, should I "pick" a replacement? Anyone with any inkling of my personal beliefs may wonder if there even is an organized religious or spiritual organization that fits with what-I-believe. Those precious few with more-than-an-inkling of my personal beliefs will also recall my deep-set wariness and discomfort with most forms and manifestations of organized religion, and wonder why I am even considering such a move. Well, to tell you the truth, I'm wondering that myself. Z, now and then, wants to find a gay-friendly church (he was raised Catholic) to go to. Perhaps, the next time he gets one of those urges, I'll take him up on it.

Then again, to do so, he'd have to give up his Sunday-morning ritual of news programs... while I lay in bed reading.... which, actually, I find more comforting than any ritual recititation of the Lord's Prayer.

The Crossing

Apparently, willing myself to stay well is not entirely effective. My immune system, as it turns out, does not function by suggestion.

So, I'm officially ill... and bored. I would like to thank the makers of:
DayQuil
Flonase
Tylenol
Allegra-D
and a host of other pharmaceutical products for giving me four hours of coherence this morning so I could give lab meeting. Well, "coherence" may be stretching it. My head was so "full" of cold/flu-induced sinus activity that I kept listing to starboard, and I eventually resorted to sitting down. I suppose I've learned now that it is not advisable to discuss epistasis during illness. It taxes the brain too severely, and I think my labmates walked away more confused than I initially was. It's about time I trumped their megabrains, though.

Just before I surrendered and went home, I telephoned ETS to find out my Biology Subject GRE scores. Today was the first day they became available via phone (for a f***ing "small" fee, of course). I didn't do as bad as I expected. In fact, once these scores are sent out to the appropriate graduate schools in a few weeks, I'm cautiously optimistic that they may actually help me get into a few institutions. Keep those fingers crossed. I'm tying up loose ends on my final three applications, and will hopefully have them submitted this weekend or early next week. After that, I'll play the Waiting Game until February or March!

Blue Rhombus

When I was little, my Montessori School was in an old mansion. To take attendance each day, the hardwood floor in the entranceway had a circle of shapes etched into the floor. Each student sat by his or her own shape. Mine was the blue rhombus.

I can't form a coherent post from any recent events, so let's do this Buffet Style:

1. I've taken to humming video game themes lately. Over the weekend, Star Tropics. Yesterday, Super Mario Brothers. Today, Legend of Zelda.
2. I woke up with a sore throat this morning. I'm taking a page from this man's book, guzzling water like there's no tomorrow. "I will not get sick... I will not get sick..."
3. Of course, going to pee every fifteen minutes makes labwork quite interesting.
4. I've also become slightly paranoid over the last few days. It took me some time to narrow down the cause, but I think I've hammered it down to one thing: my application to the University of Chicago. So detailed... they're so demanding! They want to know everything! Everything! With such self-analysis at every step, it's no wonder I think everyone I meet on the street is judging me. I nearly greeted the bus driver with an icy, "What the hell are you looking at?!"
5. After some time, I finally convinced Z that he shouldn't pretend to be Jewish at this Friday's holiday party for my lab just so he can complain that I wouldn't get him eight presents.
6. I convinced him by telling him that Santa may change his mind about bringing him seasons 1-3 of Seinfeld.
7. Damnitall. I have to pee again.

The Thought That Counts

Today, incriminating product in hand, I confessed something to my boyfriend that I'd never confessed to someone before:

I am the type of person who buys a person a toaster for a present (after making sure that said person actually needs/wants a toaster). I have done so for three weddings, and now my sister. Yet, once the gift is given, I'll go through at least 48 hours of Sheer Lamentation bemoaning the fact that I'm the type of "loser who gives people toasters... a f***ing TOASTER!... Like I couldn't manage an extra OUNCE of creativity."

And yet, I keep doing it. But only with toasters.

After that, Z decided to distract me by announcing that we're going to spend the evening here, since it's been awhile.

Then, instead of lamenting the fact that I enjoy giving toasters to people, I spent the drive home pondering when the hell Murphy Brown is coming out on DVD. Honestly, I think I've waited long enough.

Revelations

As a (hack) scientist, you know I got huge kick out of this Onion gem:

"World's Scientists Admit They Just Don't Like Mice"

Speaking of hack stuff, I submitted two applications today. Only three to go!

The Curse of Clothing

Scene: a crowded bus (heading north through Eastlake, if you must know)
Players: me, a well-meaning friendly red-headed twentysomething young woman, and assorted commuters

twentysomething: "Excuse me... but where did you get your coat?"
me: [Startled, looking up from book] "I beg your pardon?"
twentysomething: "I asked where you got your coat from."
me: "Oh... uh... a thrift store in Columbia, Missouri."
twentysomething: "A thrift store?"
me: "Yeah."
twentysomething: "Missouri?!"
me: "Um, yeah. My sister used to live there."
I return to my book, praying I'm not found out.
[Several minutes later]
twentysomething: "Did it used to have a belt that went with it?"
me: [Oh SH*T] "Oh... um... yeah, it did, actually. I just misplaced it." [You lie, James! LIE! You just don't wear the belt because you think it makes the coat look too girlie.]
twentysomething: "Oh. You know, I used to have a coat like that."
me: [RED ALERT, yet somehow collected] "Oh, really?"
twentysomething: "Yeah. You say you got it at a thrift store?"
me: "Yeah. I actually picked it out for my sister. But she said it looked better on me. But I knew it was a woman's coat, which is... why I picked it out for her... uh..." [More lies, James! All LIES! Your sister never liked it for herself! You fell in love with it ASAP and your sister had to break it to you later on that it's really a woman's coat!]
General conversation about Missouri follows for the next few minutes.
me: "So what made you get rid of the coat?"
twentysomething: "Oh, I had it in high school. It was just a phase I went through, you know?"
me: [blushing] "Yeah... I didn't really have a phase in high school. I was just t-shirt and jeans the whole time... er... you know?"
twentysomething: "Yeah."
me: "Yeah... uh... so I guess this is my phase now..." [More lies, James! The Fates have you marked! You were always a sh*tty dresser in high school - not even up to the moderate caliber of a T-shirt-and-Jeans guy! You're a liar and the whole bus now knows of your dip into transvestitism. You might as well tell her about the Game Boy earphones, too!]
I then attempt to give her travel advice in regards to her destination.
me: [getting off at my stop] "Well, good luck to ya. And, uh... thanks for my coat!"
twentysomething: [laughing] "Oh, no problem!"

Well, now you all know. I own and regularly wear a dark tan corduroy women's coat. But apparently, I leave the belt at home because that would just look too girlie. Go me.

Perhaps the Fates were getting back at me because I couldn't quit laughing when Z slipped getting on the bus this morning. Bad, Karma. Bad.

The Monkey House

The first due dates are looming. And, since several folks out there have persistently and patiently asked, here are the graduate programs to which I am applying (in random order):

1. Molecular and Cellular Biology; University of Washington - Seattle
2. Molecular Biology; University of Iowa - Iowa City
3. Molecular Biosciences; University of Chicago
4. Genome Sciences; University of Washington - Seattle
5. Tetrad (Biochemistry and Molecular Biology, Cell Biology, Genetics, Developmental Biology); University of California - San Francisco

I'd originally (and apparently foolishly) chosen ten. Practically every person at work, though, advised trimming that list down to 3-6. I guess that's how it's "supposed to be done" or something. For some of these programs (#3, #5, and some say #1), it has been "gently" broken to me by certain in-the-know individuals that I have a snowball's chance in hell of even getting an interview.

But hey, as I always say, you only live twice.

Countdown

The election was held a month ago today. Stop and think about that: an entire month.

And I still don't know who the next Governor of the State of Washington is going to be.

Civics lesson for the non-Washingtonians out there:
1. Washington is widely considered to be a "blue" state at the federal level. A month ago, we voted overwhelmingly for Kerry-Edwards, and re-elected Democrat Patty Murray for a third term in the Senate. When the new Congress convenes early next year, six of Washington's nine seats in the House of Representatives will be manned by Democrats.
2. At the state level, it's another matter entirely.
--In the state legislature, Dems now rule with election gains in both houses. In the state House of Representatives, Dems increased their lead to 55 seats against 43 for the Republicans. In the state Senate, Republicans lost their slim majority and now hold 23 of the 49 seats.
--In administrative offices, however, there has been a slow, steady gain of offices by the Republican Party. Highly respected (and respectable) Republican Sam Reed has been Washington's Secretary of State for some time now. In last month's election, the Republicans also won the open state Attorney General office, with (handsome) Rob McKenna easily defeating endorsement-starved Democrat Deborah Senn. Widely praised as a moderate/center-right alternative to previous far-right Republican candidates, McKenna is considered to be a rising star in the state's leadership-starved Republican Party. If this A.G. job works well for him (and I see no reason at this point why it shouldn't), I wouldn't be surprised if he'd later seek (and win) the governor's mansion or a seat in Congress. The Commissioner of Public Lands job also fell to the Republicans. It's a slow takeover most Washingtonians won't lose sleep over. [Side note: I now find "Washingtonians" to be a repulsive word. I shall refrain from using it.] While Seattle itself seems full of obsessive (neurotic?) "true blues" who would blindly vote for the Democratic candidate ("A drooling vegetable? You don't say... Well, at least he isn't a Republican."), many voters in suburban and rural counties filled out their ballots at the Bipartisan Buffet...
"John Kerry for President... Patty Murray for Senate... Rob McKenna for A.G... But wait a second: what about governor?"

I obviously don't have too much trouble with Sam Reed and Rob McKenna. A mixing of parties, in my opinion, keeps state politics from becoming oh-so-stagnant or (dare I say) corrupt. But what's going on in the governor's mansion?

Down in Olympia ("down" relative to Seattle, that is), a Democrat has held the governor's seat for over the past two decades. Gary Locke is finishing is ho-hum second and final term as America's first Chinese-American governor. For his successor, current State Attorney General and Democrat Christine "Chris" Gregoire (pronounced "Greg-whaar") faced off against former two-term State Senator Dino Rossi (that's "Deeno Raw-see"). Lord knows why I've had trouble with their names, but there you have it.

I don't know if I was naïve for thinking this, but I figured Mrs. Gregoire would win by a landslide. She served as Washington's Attorney General for eight years, and her office led an occasionally-blundering-but-ultimately-victorious against "Big Tobacco" on behalf of the good people of Washington [note how I avoided saying "Washingtonians"]. After Gregoire easily smashed her only rival in the primary (King County executive Ron Sims), I honestly quit paying attention. Sure, she ran a campaign on lackluster issues and seemed to communicate with almost as much difficulty as Washington's other Democratic Senator Maria Cantwell, but as a center/left-center with eight years of satisfactory/above-satisfactory attorneygeneralness under her belt running against a far-right-masquerading-as-moderate former real estate agent with ties to Washington's oh-so-despicable-yet-just-as-indispensable big business and logging industries, I figured the Dems and Independents would elect her with only a reluctant sigh as they dreamt of a more "exciting" candidate.

But, come election night, while the rest of my fellow Kerry voters went to bed full of agony over Ohio, I was amazed at how close Washington's gubernatorial race was turning out to be. As my head hit the pillow on November 2nd, I thought to myself, "Well, she'll stay up all night and won't find out she's the winner until early tomorrow morning. I hope all that waiting has taught her a lesson about running lackluster campaigns." But we didn't know on November 3rd. Or 4th. By the 5th, votes were trickling in from counties one-by-one, and folks were beginning to relize that this was going to be
A. close
B. painful for the Democrats

For, even if Gregoire were to win, it wouldn't be much of a mandate. Washington's elections are organized and carried out on the county level. The state's unique geography makes for some equally unique county lines, and also reflects the state's unique political divide between east and west. Democrats usually dominate the western half of the state - running west of the Cascade range, down into the Puget Sound area, and across to the Olympic and Kitsap Peninsulas. This region, of course, includes the state's most densely populated region: the Everett-Seattle-Tacoma-Olympia run along Interstate 5, squished oh-so-uncomfortably between the cold Puget Sound and the high, sharp rise of the Cascade Range. The Seattle area itself houses many far-lefties (I believe they answer to "hippie"), but they're usually kept in check at the state level by more moderate and centrist Dems from Puget Sound, the islands, the Olympic Peninsula, and the Columbia delta. The Republicans tend to dominate politics east of the Cascades, in a region generally (and quite appropriately) referred to as eastern Washington. Rural areas dominate, but notable metropolitan areas include Spokane and the Tri-Cities (not to be confused with my former home, the Quad-Cities).

So, in a state where the western population (mostly Dems) is greater than the eastern population (mostly Republicans), shouldn't Gregoire have been able to delcare her victory on election night along with Senator Patty Murray? Here's where geography tells me she's screwed: the "big three" counties of Washington by population are King, Pierce, and Snohomish Counties. It should come as no surprise that they are all a part of the Everett-Seattle-Tacoma run. Each county lovingly hugs a precious portion of Puget Sound, before crawling steadily eastwards up the Cascade slopes. Pierce County (Tacoma and vicinity) tiptoes delicately east-and-a-bit-south towards shocking-but-gorgeous Mount Rainier. King County begins with Seattle, sandwiched uncomfortably between the Puget Sound and Lake Washington. Skipping west across Lake Washington, King County embraces the bright, white city of Bellevue and other assorted Microsoft suburbs (all middle class Republican strongholds), before creeping up the snow-capped Cascade slopes. To the north lies Snohomish County, which squeezes the most generous portion of coastline before dissolving quietly up to Snoqualmie National Forest.

Of these "big three," I have asserted since moving here that any Democratic candidate for state office would need to carry two, if not all three, of these. The rules are simple: the populations of all three follow a simple coastal-inland pattern of left-to-right. Coastal politics are more left-leaning, with the right and center-right gradually increasing in popularity as one moves towards those menacing Cascade Ranges. As for counties to carry, King (don't forget the hippies) is a gimmie by my standards. Granted, Bellevue and Microsoft suburbs are more moderate and Republican, but Seattle is able to keep King a Democratic stronghold for the time being. So, Gregoire carried King County with a huge margin.

But, to everyone's surprise (even the Rossi campaign), Dino Rossi carried Pierce County and Snohomish County by narrow (yet comfortable) margins. Rossi also carried his Republican base in eastern Washington. Gregoire did admirably in several Olympic Peninsula counties, Whatcom County (along the Canadian border), Thurston County (moderately-sized county which includes the state capitol), and a few island communities, but the damage was already done. Almost two weeks after the election, with provisional ballots (and court battles) still under way in some counties, the official results came in:

Dino Rossi: 1,371,414 (48.8759%)
Christine Gregoire: 1,371,153 (48.8666%)

Yes, Christine Gregoire lost the machine count by 261 votes. Since the margin separating the candidates was less than 2,000 votes, an automatic machine recount is mandated by law. Provisional ballots in King County were challenged by both sides, a few counties "found" some lost ballots, and the Blame Game began. I, for one, am amazed at the 502 King County voters who wrote in "Ron Sims" for governor, without failing to realize that, under Washington law, an individual who has lost a primary election (as Sims lost to Gregoire in September) is no longer eligible for that office. One Spokane voter who made the same mistake wrote a passionate apology to NPR, begging forgiveness.

Secretary of State Sam Reed earlier this week certified the machine-recounted votes:

Dino Rossi: 1,372,484 (48.8717%)
Christine Gregoire: 1,372,442 (48.8702%)

Yes, she also lost the recount. By 42 votes. If that Spokane voter had done his homework and known that Ron Sims was ineligible for governor, then the margin would be down to 41 votes. What if some of those 502 King County voters had also done their homework? What about the 108 King County voters who attempted to mail back their absentee ballots, but forgot to put the ballot in the envelope.

Ah, democracy!

So, Dino Rossi has been certified as the Governor-Elect. But, all is not through yet. By law, since the margin is so close, a political party can request a hand recount of all or part of the state. There's a catch: the party must provide the money to fund the recount. For the entire state, we're talking at least $1 million dollars. It's a risky move for the Democrats. Gregoire announced today that she would like either a statewide hand recount, or no hand recount at all (her basic argument: "count all votes"). If the results change (that is, if Gregoire wins the hand recount), then the state will refund the money. But that's a big if. The Kerry campaign already donated $250,000 leftover from their failed presidential bid. The Dems are raising money like mad, but some critics argue that money would be better spent helping highly vulnerable Senator Maria Cantwell run for re-election in 2006 (her seat is considered more shaky than fellow first-term Senator Hillary Clinton of New York). Others say that, even if Gregoire somehow wins a hand recount, her mandate will be so weak that it will mean the end of her political career ("She'll whine and recount her way to the office") and put the Dems in danger yet again (translation: a forced one-term governer, with Dems defending an unpopular party legacy in 2008).

Though Gregoire wants a statewide hand recount, it's not her decision. By law, the Democratic Party as a whole decides. They can consider the cheaper option of picking individual counties or precincts for a hand recount. If the results change in those regions, a state-funded hand recount is triggered, with less costs being funded by the party. But those funds (however much cheaper) are non-refundable. The Rossi campaign has already declared victory, and lefties are already spreading the blame of Gregoire's "loss."

What will happen? The Dems have until 5:00PM tomorrow to decide. I predict a statewide hand recount. If Gregoire loses, it's the end of her political career, Rossi will have a strong re-electable mandate ("Hey, I won all three times! Let's go keep gays from marrying!"), and the Dems have to talk tough strategy for keeping Maria Cantwell in her seat come 2006 (she has the same weaknesses as Gregoire, so I hope some lessons can be learned from this mess). If Gregoire wins, it's the end of her political career (though at least she'll be Washington's most memorable one-term governor), and the Dems will have to do everything they can to find a strong candidate for Gregoire's replacement in 2008, in addition to re-electing Cantwell by a larger margin than 42 votes.

Shockwave

Today is World AIDS Day. I didn't even know. Until, of course, I was listening to NPR's Day to Day.

On today's program, they replayed the very first NPR report ever delivered concerning the emergence of a disease we now know is caused by HIV. It was broadcast during Morning Edition on July 3, 1981 (wow... I wasn't even 1 yet). The report concerns an unusual outbreak of Kaposi's Sarcoma (a rare form of cancer that, at the time, had was only known to occur among older African men) among 28 young gay men in the United States. The report doesn't at all mention HIV (which, of course, had not yet been discovered). Terms like "AIDS" and even "GRID" (Gay-Related Immunodeficiency Disease... an early term for AIDS) did not even exist yet. It's quite a sobering report to hear.

"...The gay community shouldn't be overly alarmed about Kaposi Sarcoma, but young men suffering from unusual fevers and small, bluish skin nodules should see a physicain immediately. In the meantime, the CDC will be watching Kaposi's closely."

Hearing such a history certainly gave me pause today.