Mmm beep-beep, beep-beep YEAH!

On our way back from Los Angeles two weeks ago, Matt and I stopped by a Mini dealership to test drive their slightly larger Clubman style. We've been arguing/debating/obsessing about a choice for a new car for me, my economy sedan being over 100,000 miles and approaching the point of requiring a sizable investment to keep it going for the next 100k. Matt has the SUV he chose when leaving the Navy, and last year we upgraded his motorbike to a snazzy, powerful model. Matt loves 2-door sporty cars, I like to look at them, but prefer the usefulness of boxy hatchbacks with an actual door to the back seat. Then I found out the Clubman has an extra rear-hinged door to facilitate access to the back seat... and good fuel efficiency... high safety ratings... maintenance included with the warranty... and it's sporty... and boxy... and...

Meet Bertram.





"Bertie" for short. As in Wooster. The black & white interior made me think of spats, or Jeeves' black suit, but it's more of a Bertie.

Before the test drive I hadn't set foot in the driver's seat of a manual transmission since my last driving lesson in Edinburgh in August of 2001: chugging around the block in 1st or 2nd gear in a little diesel learner it was almost impossible to stall. I think I got to go up to third gear once. I got to drive Bertie home. 35 miles. At night. Through a construction zone. The freeways were fine, once in 5th or 6th gear it was just a question of avoiding the massive work trucks that kept trying to merge into me from alternating sides; getting to the freeway involved stalling at each traffic light and taking a few tries to get going again. I made sure I knew where the flashing emergency lights were before I trundled off the dealership lot, I even considered picking up "L" plates to warn those behind me, but I'm picking it up fast enough.

It's an adventure, we've got a radio ban until December, and I'm not commuting in it until I'm a little more practiced, I can't get the stickers to park at work until the official registration comes in the mail anyway. I haven't told my Mum, she's arriving in L.A. in a couple of weeks, so I'm just going to pick her up at the airport and watch her reaction when I put her bag in the snazzy new car.

I just wrote a blog post about my car. Yep, definitely an assimilated Californian.

Ex-Pat

I have allowed myself to be convinced that mathematical calculations exist in the singular form: "Math"

I get graded on the quality of my papers, not marked on my essay-writing.

I mail letters marked with a zipcode.

However, I still live in a flat and close my coat with a zip, not a zipper; I'd rather eat courgette than zucchini (I'd rather spell courgette too).

Brain Dump

I have been busy, and doing considerably better with depression symptoms than I was by the end of August (I got burned out & overwhelmed, went to doc, decided to go back up from half to full dose of antidepressant, found a cognitive behavioural therapist near home, started getting better).

New job - not so new any more - I am settling into a routine, and working on two projects. I am trying to establish myself as generally useful, and specifically the resident neuroscience person, since everyone there is more experienced in epidemiology than I, my angle is being "Brain Girl". I have (mostly) been having fun branching out into a more professional work wardrobe, the discovery of getting dress trousers a size big, then getting the waist taken in has provided me with a few pairs of pinstripe wide legged pants that make me feel like Katharine Hepburn when I wear them. Or her more buxom cousin at any rate. I'm still working on wearing "grownup" shoes. I'd rather wear smarter clothes and stick with clunkier comfortable shoes than go the route favoured by my female coworkers of more casual dags dressed up with heels. Can't run from zombies in heels.

University is chugging along, I am having a hard time finding the time/brain space to put significant hours in on my thesis. I don't know how I did 9+ units and full time work when I started this program, but that head of steam has decidedly run out! My main focus in counseling (besides taking adequate care of myself) is time management, since most of my stress comes from the balancing act.

Time to go, dinner is served!

Thus Spoke Marble

Marble has been very talkative lately, rushing about meowping in her squeaky little voice, she never manages a full "meow" so it pretty much sounds like she's running up and down saying "eek! eek! EEEEK!". Perhaps she's channeling Lewis Carroll's White Rabbit.

Marble smudge face

Marble smudge face, originally uploaded by Rosemary Grace.

As an indoor cat, Marble does not get many opportunities to get her snow-white self all mucky. However, she is a hard working, innovative kitty, and often manages to smudge her nose by pressing it against the dusty window screens while bird watching. This morning she has impressive amounts of grime on her nose, which made me wonder if she'd been trying to head-butt her way out through the screens.

Turns out the culprit is Matt's dusty sandals from a walk we took yesterday. She's been running over to them and snuzzling the mucky things frantically all morning.

It was a great long weekend, culminating in getting our feet good and dusty. Saturday morning I briefly Skyped with my sister in Berlin, & the APs in Edinburgh. On-screen time being used to play show-and-tell with everyone's new eyeglasses, Eve held her laptop out the window so Matt could see the Berlin TV Tower live, and three cats in three countries got waved at their respective owner's webcams. Then Matt and I retreated to a friends house on the hill overlooking our neighborhood, where we lounged by the pool and watched people make beer while catching up with my friends from the lab. I took my swift and wound a couple of balls of yarn while chatting, then bravely bared my bathing suit and spent some time in the pool.

On Sunday we ran errands, did laundry, watched movies and hung out on the patio once the sun dipped behind the hills.

Monday, Labor Day, I woke up with a hangover (did I mention we had gin on the patio?), so I retreated to bed for a bit. Around noon we headed up to the mountains for a picnic lunch and to lounge under pine trees listening to the breeze. We took a walk to a spot claiming to be a small lake, it was really a damp patch of ground, but there were five cows munching away on the water plants, and we sat watching the pastoral scene for a while before continuing around the loop back to the car. We also saw a gorgeous blue jay, and heard a few woodpeckers thunk-thunk-thunking. Both of us had beige feet by the end, the classic "dust tan" effect of walking in the fine dry dust of Southern California. We had planned a pasta dinner when we got home, but discovered we were missing the necessary fixings, so we ended up at BJ's for dinner (fish and chips!), and then back home for pineapple upside down cake for dessert.

Marble evidently appreciates the dusty shoes resulting from this adventure, but I think I'll take them outside for a good shake so I can have my clean white kitty back.

To the Mountains!

Predicted to go over 100F in El Cajon this weekend, so we are high tailing it to a campsite near Julian, where hopefully it will stay under the three digit temps. Either way it'll be pretty forest camping, a much needed recharge before the semester starts on Wednesday. That two week break went fast.

Can't talk, deadline will eat me.

Last session of class is tomorrow, revised drafts of Intro, Literature Review, and Methods chapters are due, along with a brief presentation on my project. Then I will be done. For two weeks. Then Fall semester begins.

I'm definitely having trouble concentrating, I'm feeling somewhat burned out, and seriously considering dropping my "extra" class next term. I've gone through the whole program planning my schedule on " I can take it!" principles, and I think it is time to give myself some slack. If taking a challenging work-heavy statistics class, working 20 hours in a my new field, and FINISHING MY THESIS can be considered slack that is. Now that I put it that way it definitely makes sense to skip the additional statistics class. Both the classes I'm signed up for have a reputation for being coursework intensive, and I have learned that can mean "twice as much homework as you'd expect from a three unit class".

Enough procrastination. Back to my second draft.

Sunset July 25th

Sunset July 25th, originally uploaded by Rosemary Grace.

Snapped on the way home from a lovely day in Julian. We met up with friends from the lab at Orfila Winery, where S & J have a membership. Before they rolled up I discovered a bead shop where the owner hand selects every single piece (and she has great taste) and I picked out some copper pieces to turn into earrings while a brother-sister pair of golden retrievers flaked out on the floor to escape the heat. They were so relaxed that when their human papa came in all that moved was their tails, wagging in unison.

What do you mean I can't eat this? It SMELLS like food!

photo 4.jpg, originally uploaded by Rosemary Grace.

I had a bit of fun with the camera on my iPhone yesterday, being able to snap a photo and email it right to Flickr is such a handy feature. The camera is surprisingly good, especially in low light. Now I'll probably keep my Ravelry projects more regularly photographed, since it's so much less of a fag to *snap, send* than *snap, find cable, connect to server, save photo, upload*.

Of course, after a couple of shots of lonely skeins on the block by the window, I recruited Tali to make the photos more interesting. He was surprisingly well behaved, no chewing on the sheepy goodness or trying to run off with a ball of mohair. In this photo he had just nuzzled the lampshade at me. Sometimes the cats must find us as quirky as we find them. What's more odd, me photographing coloured string, or Tali carrying around the occasional dirty sock?

The summer is zooming along. I've registered for my lone remaining class, the rest will be research and field work credits. I've produced a (very) rough draft of the lit review, and am currently avoiding work on a draft of the introduction, due tomorrow evening. I've been going to belly dance at least once a week since I got back from Scotland, and I'm really enjoying it, I can feel how much work for my legs and core it is, and it's liberating to be learning a dance form designed for my body shape. Though the best thing with belly dance is EVERY shape looks good doing it, but having extra jiggle makes it much easier to get a good Turkish Shimmy going. I had planned to just take it over the summer, but I want to carry on once term starts again, and add a weekend yoga class at the gym. We've already paid for the membership, and the dancing makes my hamstrings and lower back veryveryvery tight.

NYARGH

This all stems from flash drives being forbidden on Military computers, and Epi-Info being unavailable for Mac.

I have been plagued with silly technology-related inconveniences, and at the end of the weekend have achieved very little.

When my Mac Operating System Disk shows up right after I spend $69 on a replacement, that will be the crowning moment of this whole experience.

On the upside, we have upgraded our dining set to one that fits the space better, and has a built in wine cabinet under the table. Then the furniture delivery people got our number wrong.

Nyargh indeed.

Sometime in June

I am back from my trip. This time last week I was in a jet-lagged haze, falling asleep in the car while Matt fetched Persian food. I landed at about 10.30pm Saturday, so with taxi-ing, finding my bags, and Matt realizing I was flying Delta, not United (so he was at the wrong terminal), it was Midnight before we were home. I should note that Matt's trip to the wrong terminal did not cause delay, my bags were at the bottom of the heap this time, I got the second one and looked up to see him walking towards me.

Now, a week later, I have not quite finished unpacking, but I have started the class that will walk me through the first stages of writing my thesis, spent an hour drilling with zils (finger cymbols) in Bonnie's ATS Belly Dance class, begun an internship at Navy Health Research Center (met lots of people, spent a whole day doing online safety training), and... Given notice at the lab at UCSD.

The last was in the plans only since the week before I went on holiday. Once I lined up the internship and had found they were happy to take me for the summer, but would be even happier to take me full time in the summer and continuing part time after classes restarted it was sort of a no-brainer. I have been concerned that my job prospects after graduation might suffer from only having the required 180 hours of field work, when many fellow MPH students are currently working in public health. I will miss the lab, the group I've been working with is a nice lot, smart and competent, and we have a lot of fun. I hope that I won't be losing touch, I feel like I'm going to be leaving with a bunch of good friends.

Approaching halfway (update from the academic front)

Exam on Wednesday went well (I think), HIV presentation is mostly written, complete with accompanying blog, poster... and a team mate is going to get pens made (the project is an HIV prevention strategy targeting drug users in Thailand). Have barely looked at stats final, but after Wednesday's two presentations I will be done done done with two of my four classes for this semester. Then I've got a week and a half to do the statistics and study for the methods exams on the 18th.

THEN, we get to go to War at Potrero. An event involving camping out with friends, wearing garb of any period from 8th c. to 16th c. and lots of beer.

Look for me sometime in June

I backed into a car in the parking lot yesterday. In Matt's car. Yay. Granted, the other car was following RIGHT UP CLOSE behind me, invisible to all mirrors, I'm just hoping our insurance rates don't go up too much.

Exam this afternoon. Two presentations a week from today (one written, one...not), a four-page take home statistics final due in two weeks, and a tricksy methodology exam happening in two weeks. Plus preparing tables on thesis data for Pharmacy residents, lining up field work for the summer, working my job, and I think I'm supposed to locate a thesis committee by the end of the month.

Send reinforcements. Preferably with coffee and nutritious brain foods. I have plenty chocolate already.

Isabelle's interview

1.You’re the product of a British (English?) father and an American mother, you were brought up in Scotland, you now live in America and your husband is American. What nationality do you feel and how do you feel about this?

My father is indeed English, a Devonshire Dumpling to be more precise. He grew up in Exeter, attended Cambridge, the first in his family to attend University, and had a banking job lined up back home when he decided he'd like to travel and wrote to the dean of UCLA asking for a job. Improbably, he got a position teaching German 1 and took off for Los Angeles in the summer of 1963... Where, in the front row, he found my mother. The first he heard of my mother was when my grandmother called him to say she (My Mum) was out having surgery, and would miss the first few classes, but please don't bump her from the class, and could she get extra help to catch up? My mother was very pleased that the professor she needed some extra coaching from was such a talldarkandhandsome dashing young Englishman.

My mother is American, Californian to be specific, her parents were both born in Detroit, Michigan, and came to California as Children in the 1920's, part of one of many "Gold Rush" Westward migrations. She grew up in Los Angeles, with a circus performer across the street, movie hopefuls in her high school classes, and used to skip Sunday School with her sister to drive around critiquing architectural styles of various neighborhoods. She was also a first generation university student, though she worked in a bank for a while before starting college. Good thing, otherwise she would have taken care of her foreign language requirement long before my father arrived to teach it.

They married after a four month courtship (officially begun after German 1 was over), and moved to London, where my Dad enrolled in a Linguistics PhD program at University College. My mother had only ever been as far as Rosarito, Mexico and she moved to London in 1964, where rental apartments were unheated, and most lacked refrigerators. Her winter coat was an unlined cotton duster. Yikes!

Before I came along, they lived back in California for a while, where my sister was born, then moved to Lancaster (the one in the North of England) to be closer to my Dad's parents. The same week my father got a professorship at Edinburgh University, my mother found out she was expecting me. They moved four month before I was born, they still live in the house they first brought me home to.

So, the point of the question is, what do I call myself? My first answer is "British, but my Mum's from LA", or "I'm from Scotland, but I'm a dual citizen". I am Scottish, but not as Scottish as, for example, K, or Dr G, Shauna's husband. I grew up hearing bagpipes played on street corners, visiting castles on school trips, hearing kids referred to as "weins", celebrating Burns' Night and Hogmanay, being called "The Yank" or "English" (and a few other non-nationality related things) by my classmates. When I went to uni in London, my (mostly English) fellow students thought I was Scottish or American, and when I did an exchange year in San Diego, people thought I was "British or something". I found that I felt more comfortable outside of Scotland, where I was at least more Scottish than the people I was meeting. Here, and in London, I was the token Scot, and it felt very good to have that side of me recognized.

Now, of course, I realize it's not a great idea to define yourself by what others call you, but if others' views of your identity don't mesh with your own it gets very frustrating. I'm sad that my family background contributed to me being cast as an outsider in school, but I know that wasn't the sole reason, I was also a smartarse bookworm. However, I feel that this experience gave me early insight into prejudice and xenophobia, a word I learned at about age four, when my father was explaining why some people thought it was so important that I was not exactly like them. I feel that my wedding (to my Scottish-heritage kilt-wearing Pennsylvanian husband), which was in San Diego, but featured kilted SoCal groomsmen with cowboy belt buckles, and thistles mixed in with the flowers, was a great expression of my cultural influences. I want to live in Scotland again, I don't know how it will feel, I figure that having lived in the US for 10 years will explain my perceived American-ness, and I'm pretty sure I won't care so much what people think I am, I think that is partly why I want a chance to live there again. There is a lot that I miss, that I feel I did not appreciate while there, but it is also pretty hard to knock being the token Scot in sunny San Diego.

Speaking up

Someone on Ravelry has an icon with a picture of David Bowie in Labyrinth... and a joke about rape. I am not usually a letter-of-complaint type, but this is just ridiculous. So I am sending this email to the owner of the icon:

"You may not realize it, but any kind of rape joke, but especially ones involving "you know you liked it" is not cool. Ever. No way, no how. Even if they have a picture of David Bowie. Private joking as a way to process things is very different from publicly displayed comments and icons.

Please consider the high number of women who have lived through rape or sexual assault, and the effect your icon has on an unsuspecting reader having fun on Ravelry, only to be reminded of a deeply unpleasant experience, and the way it is devalued and brushed off every day. "

I'm just sick of it. Sick of random reminders that I am, merely by being a woman, at greater risk of violence, sick of these reminders coming up and slapping me in the face when I am going about my normal day. Sick of movie trailers and television shows that treat sexual violence as some sort of voyeuristic marketing tool. Sick, in particular, of the idea that it's just part of how the world works, something to be taken for granted and worked around, something I just have to learn to deal with.

So this is my awareness activism for the day. Dear fellow knitter: Knock it off with the rape jokes. XTHXBAI.

Oddly non-productive productivity

It is most inconvenient of my professors to give us so much work to do over spring break. Don't they know we're supposed to spend the entire week drunk and naked in Mexico?

Things I have done:
Finished the edging on my first sweater, and decided what to do about closures.
Knitted last of a set of felted potholders, and felted them.
Grafted second fingerless mitten - just in time for warmer weather to arrive.
Cast on slinky summer top.
Spent a couple of hours perusing knitting books in bookstore.
Purchased promising Indian recipe book for beginners.
Watched all three Back To The Future movies back-to-back.
Set up retirement account transfer, balanced checkbook, deposited birthday check.
Made cottage pie.
Caught up on sleep.

Things I have not done:
Yoga, or exercise of any kind, for a week.
Fifteen-question essay assignment on HIV/AIDS.
Outbreak analysis assignment for Epidemiological Methods class.
Multivariate Statistics assignment.
Looked up common exposure routes for formaldehyde.
Swept/hoovered the whole flat.
Knit the closures for the damn sweater.

It's almost as if I've been on holiday (apart from still working my 20 hours - the holiday is just from uni). Oh well, today I have an interview for work experience (I have to get 180 hours of field work experience as part of my degree) in the same department as my Thesis project, it would be handy if I can combine the two somehow. Then this evening I'm meeting a friend for drinks at an English pub, and tomorrow I'm working. Looks like the weekend will be chock full of university work. Ugh. At least I've given myself a weekendish break for the past 5 days.

Happy Meme (Part The First)

Isabelle tagged me to list six things that make me happy. I am going to go for somewhat frivolous, not deep, since the deep list would be so similar to that of everyone else ("my partner, family, friends...sunsets"). Here are my six, in no particular order.

1 - Blustery weather: not necessarily the blow your tent away with you in it stupendous winds you get in the California desert (though I kind of love them too); I'm talking about the unpredictably gusty weather that makes me regret the inability to tie my hair back. Even if it's cold and I'm a little under dressed, I find myself feeling excited and stimulated by the whoosh in my ears and the feeling of the air rushing across my skin. Scottish? Me? How did you guess. I also like rain.

2 - My cats: prompted to add this by Marble depositing herself in my lap, with one haunch obstructing the mouse pad. We got these cats as a consolation for having to move unexpectedly, Tali picked Matt out at the adoption center by marching right up to him and walking figure-eights around his legs. Matt was new to cats and had to ask me if that qualified as "a good thing". We were looking for a bonded pair, so luckily the cat that picked Matt came with an eccentric sister who stuck her entire head into a basket of toys to fish out the one she wanted form the bottom. They are both very affectionate, you don't just get a cat in your lap, you get well and truly sat upon, with purring and snuggling. Both of them will occasionally look up and want eye contact, and have been known to gently pat at my face for extra attention.

3 - Socks: I don't actually like the way goofy patterned socks look with shoes, not on my wide feet, but I love walking about in sock feet in stripy, bright coloured socks. Right now I'm wearing hot pink cotton socks I kept concealed all day under low ankle boots and jeans. I have a set of black dress socks with sparkly toe and heel caps in either hot pink, sky blue, or silver, they are my favourite, because they are unobtrusive, but when I take my shoes off at the end of the day, or at the gym, I get a little giggle out of the silly sparkly toes.

OK, it's beddy-bye time, Marble left me, but Tali has take her place, purring and kneading on the crook of my elbow. I'm in my pajamas and the pink socks have been replaced with a pair of fleece-lined men's slippers. It's not that I can't think of three more things that make me happy, it's that I don't have the time to write about why they make me happy, so I'm off to go to sleep.

Part Davis after all...

Photo 102.jpg, originally uploaded by Rosemary Grace.

This is me bowing to peer pressure: wearing green on St Patrick's day.

Also please note the ruffle-butt cardigan, it makes me very happy.

Riveting History of Rosie (Now, with pictures)

I am very surprised that "Rosemary Riveter" is not already a common screen name. So I'm adopting it. "Rosemary Grace" is my first & middle names, but is not obviously a screen name. When searching for Rosemary Riveter all I found was a woman named Rosemary Corbin, who was they mayor of a town in California, and is a member of the Board of Directors of the Rosie The Riveter Historical Trust. Who knew there was such a thing? The first image here is the original Normal Rockwell painting, I think it was a Time Magazine cover during the war, accompanying a story about women working in heavy industry "male" jobs during the WWII.

This image is more well known, a recruiting poster encouraging women to engage in "war work" in the US. I dressed up as Rosie the Riveter for Halloween a while back, and have a photo of myself in the classic pose, with the polkadot head scarf and signature red lipstick. My father insisted that I include red lipstick as part of the costume, which is unusual for a man who usually rolls his eyes when Mum and I discuss the merits of particular shades of red, or start debating exactly what to call the interesting blue/teal/slate colour of an armchair. I suppose Rosie is an icon he can relate to, my grandmother was a very strong, capable woman.

Ahpree orry

I did not intend to hiate for that long. I have been rather busy, I reduced my work hours, but then added a thesis project to the mix, so I'm almost back to where I started, but generally feeling a bit more productive, and I'm definitely enjoying having graduate school be assigned proper slots of my time, rather than squeezing it in around a 40-hour work week.

Isabelle participated in an interview meme, and kindly formulated five questions to respond to here. I am thinking about what to say, and look forward to answering them, but I haven't got around to writing anything yet. Academic work, visiting parental units, and trying to spend time with Matt before his break from school was up definitely cut into blogging time. He and I just spent a large chunk of the day going over last year's spending, and actually drew up a budget. This is a first for us, we live within our means, but haven't been saving as much as we like, which means that spending has to be strategically pruned. Especially since I am earning half what I did last year. My poor February paycheck looked very skinny and underfed indeed, being the first full month of 50% time.

The new weekly schedule allows me to make it to Tuesday and Thursday morning yoga classes at 9, before going to statistics class. Bliss! Luxury! I've only managed one of the two sessions each week so far. Next goal is to make both, then add the preceding 8am "body sculpt".

The title: this is how my American Epidemiological comrades pronounce the term "a priori", which I expect to come out as AY-pri-OH-ri. It comes up a lot in statistics classes, and it took me a while to figure out what this apri-orry thing was. Apricot ornery? Apres orrery?

In brief

I have succumbed to Twitter. See sidebar.

Our cable company seems to be confused about which channels we get. Tonight we are watching BBC America. Tomorrow we might not be able to get it.

I am SO GLAD I reduced my hours at work.

Matt will be finished with his BS degree classes this time next year.

Tali is in my lap. I think he is drooling on my arm.

Bracelet for my man

Bracelet, originally uploaded by Rosemary Grace.

I made this in a jewelry class I treated myself to in June, it turned out too long for me, but the perfect size for Matt's wrist. He loves it.

Wow.

Matt and I "took over" Christmas this year, meaning we took charge of the cooking. I still feel like Mum did a lot of the wrangling of where to put tables/chairs, and where the good china was hiding, etc etc, and I KNOW she and her sister did the majority of cleaning dishes and squaring things away after the festivities. All involved feel it was the easiest Christmas ever (even us), I suppose this means we were long overdue for a division of labor.

Hooray. Christmas was such a big warm busy party, 27 people, all over 18. The sweater we got my Granny fitted her just right. The drive back to San Diego went without a hitch, and Matt and I are relaxing with the cats, watching movies and drinking beer left over from the party.

But, ouch

Finals are done, I think I made it, I'll know for sure at Hogmanay when marks are posted online. I have been fighting off a migraine for the past two weeks. Every day I either wake up with an ok head, and end the day with a nauseous splitting headache, or wake up nauseous and headache-y and slowly get better over the course of the day. I have been to the chiropractor three times this week, and the general consensus is that my neck is messed up.

I have found my limit: taking 9 units of graduate study (full time being 12), but two of the classes had disproportionately large workloads, and attempting to work full time.

...and exhale

Both biopsies came back as normal - just moles, no further action required. My first exam is done, I think it went well enough, the big two are tomorrow: Biostatistics and infectious Disease.

Last week I got to put into action a plan I'd wanted to carry out for a while: I signed our lab up for an "adopt a family" program through a local youth charity. We got a note with the family size (three - single mother and two sons), the shoe and clothing sizes, their regular grocery store, and any special requests. This family requested home items and toiletries, and the notes said the 7 year old boy is creative, and likes making things, but gave no information about the 12 year old. I was able to phone and find out he's interested in sports. My lab was very generous, one PhD student even bought a hockey stick and a packet of balls for street hockey. In total we collected $335, plus the hockey kit, and I spent it on bulk-size toiletries from Costco, new towels, a pretty fleece blanket, a nice floral mug for the mom, shoes for the kids, a Lego kit for the younger boy, a pair of sketch books and a set of paints/pencils/brushes in a shiny blue case. Matt and I threw in a sports almanac, books on how to draw, and a blue purse I got for sale and have used all of once, I filled the purse with a toiletries gift set - a small luxury for the mom.

Of course, this coinciding with finals has not been the best timing, a classmate of mine came over so review survival analysis last night, and then we had dinner and she helped us wrap the gifts. It felt really nice to have this big pile of presents build under our tree, and picture these kids we don't know opening their presents. I feel a little like Santa. Loading the gifts into the car this morning in a hurry so Matt could take off to work certainly made me respect all those hard working elves loading up the sleigh.

I am more than ready for my finals to be done, work to be over for the year, and my family to arrive. This year Matt and I have put ourselves in charge of preparing the Christmas dinner, so the parental generation can take a well earned break. Just call me Ms Claus.

Security Hat

Urchin Front, originally uploaded by Rosemary Grace.

I finished this hat on Thursday night, and I don't want to take it off. Friday I had my regular checkup with the Dermatologist, and he removed two more moles to biopsy, which is good, because they're off, and I don't have to keep an eye on them any more. Until the biopsy results come in it's difficult not to worry and expect the worst. Even if neither one contains melanoma, they are likely to be "abnormal" and require more tissue to be removed.

One is from my right cheek, the sticky bandage starts just below where this photo cuts off, the last straggler mole left behind after everything else got taken for biopsy when I had the cancer diagnosis. The other was on my left ring finger, right above where my wedding band lives. I had some trouble getting my wedding band off.

After the appointment, I went to work, and got really upset, mostly worrying about the possibility of the one on my finger coming back as abnormal, how do you take a half centimeter margin of skin surrounding the biopsy from a finger that's only a couple of centimeters across? Typing was difficult because of the gauze taped around my finger, then I got a mildly snippy email from a professor we share some expensive equipment with and I just started to cry. Maybe I should have gone home after I got biopsied, but if I plan to take a day off every time I have a dermatologist appointment it would get a bit ridiculous.

Fortunately I work with a really nice bunch, though it's always embarrassing to be weepy, they all know something of the ongoing saga, last year I had the impressive red marks on my face from the laser treatments every month, and this August I had stitches on my arm from another abnormal mole. I emailed my boss to say I was going for a walk before the weekly meeting, and went to find my fellow knitting nerd Fiametta to come get coffee with me. She suggested I talk the doc into taking off every mole we can find, get it over with all in one go, part of me is tempted.

So I'm sitting on the sofa in my pajamas and new orange hat, trying not to mope about my sore finger (funny that I'm barely concerned about having stitches on my face now - it's the FINGER that bugs me), and reminding myself that there is no point worrying, especially when I have finals in a week and a half. Which is when the biopsy results will come in too, I'm not sure if that's such a good thing, but the timing can't be helped. Mutant moles and cancer threat notwithstanding, life goes on.

Besides, I have my hat to protect me

Belief-O-Matic.

Seen on K's livejournal. Interesting that Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestant scored higher than nontheist, I suspect this is cultural influence from growing up in Church of Scotland schools.

1. Secular Humanism (100%)
2. Unitarian Universalism (96%)
3. Liberal Quakers (93%)
4. Neo-Pagan (85%)
5. Theravada Buddhism (80%)
6. Taoism (71%)
7. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (70%)
8. New Age (68%)
9. Nontheist (65%)
10. Mahayana Buddhism (62%)
11. Orthodox Quaker (60%)
12. Reform Judaism (53%)
13. Jainism (46%)
14. Scientology (44%)
15. Sikhism (42%)
16. New Thought (39%)
17. Baha'i Faith (38%)
18. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (32%)
19. Hinduism (32%)
20. Seventh Day Adventist (30%)
21. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (28%)
22. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (20%)
23. Eastern Orthodox (16%)
24. Islam (16%)
25. Orthodox Judaism (16%)
26. Roman Catholic (16%)
27. Jehovah's Witness (14%)

Week 1, Day 1

Please ignore the two week delay in actually beginning the 100 push up challenge. I did the first intervals on the arm of the futon, as I did the initial test. But I moved to the kitchen counter because I wasn't able to get the proper depth on the futon arm. I managed 5 total at the last set. I'm going to keep going with the counter for a bit, then try moving up to a lower prop. Matt was a good cheerleader, monitoring my arm angle and saying "go go go go" when I was flagging. Besides telling me "you've always got TWO MORE in you!"

PS~My triceps feel like jelly. I'm having slight difficult lifting my glass.

PPS~It's fantastic.

America Decides

Tomorrow morning Matt and I are going to head over to our polling station early tomorrow to vote. I'm glad we're going along together, this feels like such an important election, even more important than 2004 felt (which is probably why it went the way it did - it didn't feel THAT important, so enough people just didn't bother), going together somehow acknowledges the event. I have voted every election since I moved here in 2001, a lot of them going along at the same time as Matt. The past few I've left for work early, pulled into an empty parking lot, and walked into an empty polling station to exercise my democratic rights as a citizen. Not to mention earning my "I Voted" sticker. I have been hearing stories about showing up to cast an early vote, and waiting in line for hours. I hope I don't get stuck for four whole hours, but I admit that showing up to vote and finding a line of people waiting to do the same would be somewhat reassuring.

I am fervently hoping that Wednesday morning will find us with the first African American president (by a landslide please), reinforcement of the rights of all to marry as they see fit in the state of California (No on prop 8), teenage girls still able to pursue termination without enforced parental notification (No on prop 4), and improved conditions for farm animals (Yes on prop 2). We just spent some time talking through all the initiatives on the ballot, so we have our cheat-sheets of how we intend to vote.

I wish I'd had more time this year to involve myself and be more of an activist than a couple of small donations and a lot of online petitions.

Drumroll...

My husband just mailed an acceptance letter for a new Systems Analyst job at a small local military contracting company. He had another interview in September, during the evil on-call week, but that job feel through, and he ended up hearing about this one through a former colleague. Also during an evil on-call week, which just ended on Monday. The new job involves some travel, mostly short trips, but no pager duty. No on call, and no weekend duties. This is a very nice way to head into a long weekend holiday to wine country!

Also, I can graduate 6 months sooner than I have been planning, IF I go full time 6 months sooner, and think up a thesis subject lickety split. I want to do it, it would be great to knock a whole semester off. I'd be defending this time next year, and finishing in December '09. Crikey.

The Challenge: Initial Test

Three.

Three measly incline push ups, using the arm of the futon as a bench. Week One, weakling column here I come.

I would do 100 push ups (just to be the one who fell down at your door)

I've been thinking about doing the 100 push up challenge a la Dietgirl, but I'm pretty sure that right now I can't even achieve one good form push up. Since I've been thinking about it, and my lack of ability, I've realized that the inability to perform even one is the perfect reason to make this a project. Push ups and squats are excellent simple indicators of basic fitness and right now I am earning a big fat FAIL at basic fitness. At least I used to be pretty good a squats, even though I never managed decent push ups.

This sounds like an excuse, but I am really feeling the difference of living in a car culture metro area, in a neighborhood that is not conducive to walking (neither by it's infrastructure nor it's climate). I'm grateful to the experience of going back to university for showing me how little I now walk and climb hills/stairs as part of my normal life. For the first month or so of this semester I was parking in the same structure as everyone else with classes on my side of campus, this involved at least fifteen minutes of trawling for a parking spot, following people as they walk to their car, playing chicken at intersections because whoever gets ahead of you MIGHT STEAL A SPOT FROM YOU...until I noticed that I was chronically late for class and getting mileage from my car that would be more appropriate for a small truck. Now I park in an unpopular lot close to the freeway and down a hill and a staircase from the campus. My thighs complain on the ascent, and it's less than half of The Mound in Edinburgh, which I used to trample up and down with no trouble.

So...I've been thinking that it would not be a bad idea to take the 100 push ups challenge, starting with bench push ups and working up (or down, really) to the floor version, and taking the same simple scale-up type approach to simple unloaded squats.

Feeling weak and achy sucks. I want to feel strong. I want to be stronger. It's about time I did something about it.

Sneaky Knittings

A perk of working in a lab (and being in charge of ordering surgical gloves) is that I know, when plotting to make fingerless gloves for my lab mates, that S. has slim hands, but fairly long fingers, and V. has hands pretty close to my size. It's nice not to have to rely on guesswork when putting in the time to hand knit something. All I have to worry about is picking colours (royal blue for S. and pinky red for V.)

We all spend a lot of time in an overly air-conditioned computer lab, looking at highly magnified photographs of nerve fibers, and using software to analyze those nerve fibers in excruciating detail. Last winter we all had very cold stiff hands. I can't make myself a pair of fingerless gloves to wear while my compadres suffer with stiff chilly hands.

Mouse 'flu* sweeps through laboratory

Over half the lab is down for the count. I'm in, but functioning on low brain power - only slow and steady computer analysis for me today, no sectioning or anything else involving sharp things.

*no such thing, but we work with rodents and I just had a class on avian 'flu.

For Isabelle

In explanation of my previous anecdote.



Monty Python's Holy Grail, the bridge scene.

Did somebody hide a rotten banana under my sofa?

I am plagued by fruit flies. Every day I'm finding one drowned in whatever I'm drinking. Matt and I have gone around the kitchen double-checking to make sure there's no bits of fruit half dessicated and hiding behind the coffee jar or toaster, no culprits.

I have my first quiz of the semester tomorrow, and am beginning to think about thinking about midterm exams. But not actually thinking about them. Yet.

One of the new crop of medical students is a Monty Python fan. A blackboard in our hallway had "Questions 23a-28b" written on it, and one day I noticed someone had added near the bottom:

"29a - what is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?"

So of course I added "African or European?". A few days later I was gratified to see "I don't know! Aaaaaaaaaargh!" had appeared underneath.

Frog Cabin

I am making a "Log Cabin" style baby blanket for a friend, and this weekend got around to taking and posting photographs of some finished objects and works in progress to Ravelry. Something immediately jumped out at me...

Next to everything else I’ve done it looks like it's being made by nine-year-old me, not 28-year-old me. The colour combinations are just NOT working, and it’s generally lumpy looking. I’m unraveling it and changing to a crochet patchwork of log cabin squares, half “warm” half “cool”, all tied together with the cream, which should be a much better way to combine these colours.

Ravelry has saved me from handing over a dodgy baby blanket! Hooray!

Of course not

I failed to mention that the skirting boards are not done, nor have the book cases all been returned to their homes and repopulated with books, nor the clean laundry from last week put away (I am dressing from the back of the sofa to reduce the amount left to stow properly). Situation Normal in other words. It is difficult to maintain the pre-flooring momentum of frantic painting and furniture removal now that we have no deadline other than the imminent breakdown our collective sanity. Especially since this week Matt has been on pager duty, being paged once or twice a night as we sleep, he has to get up and work for an hour or more when that happens, I just go back to sleep, but it's still wiping me out. He's also got some potentially exciting stuff going on, but won't know for a week or more, and I'd really like to know NOW thank you very much, so that I can plot and plan and stop being in suspense!

Done?

It is a strange feeling to have the entire flat painted to our liking. We've lived here for four years. Maybe it would have been better to just paint the whole place a neutral shade of a good quality paint before we moved in, so we didn't have to deal with the grotty white dirt-magnet paint they left us with (which, I suspect, was actually primer, not paint). It's even stranger to have the much-anticipated porcelain floor. I have not had a tiled home before, I've lived with wood laminate and sanded floorboards but not the hard, cool, smooth-but-textured feel beneath my feet that we have now. It makes errant cat litter granules much more noticeable, but also makes cleaning a matter of a momentary whisk with a broom. The weather is still hot and humid, so the tile feels pleasantly cold, in the winter we will probably put a big rug down in the living room.

Being back in classes feels a bit strange too. Familiar, now it's my second semester, but I am relearning things like having uni-related work to do on weekends, and having to plan my work days carefully on the days I have class to get the essentials done before I zoom off.

Back to School/Final Countdown

Last month of Summer before Fall session starts up.
Last week of Summer internship.
Last two days of ugly cheap carpet.

Classes start Sept 2nd: Infectious Disease, Multivariate Statistics and Health Behaviour. I get to have a couple of weeks one week of "only work", rather than work plus something Master's related. I would like to get a lot of knitting and movie watching done, but I may end up doing more home improvement and sleeping than knitting, which is how it's been going recently.

Tomorrow I've got my last morning of interning at the Violence Prevention Program, then I'm taking off work to come home and move all the furniture from the front of the flat into the back of the flat so that the contractor can rip out the carpet and put in tile. This will take nearly three days, then we'll install new skirting boards and I'll finish painting. I've tried to get all the painting done before the floor, but I've run out of time. Matt has been doing classes all Summer, so I've been painting bits of the living room while he sits in a corner doing his coursework, admiring my handiwork and bouncing ideas off me. I've managed to paint the front wall "pepper spice" (milk chocolate brown), and the rest of the living room "classic taupe", the dining area has one coat of paint on it, and I think I might manage to get the second coat on tonight: one wall taupe, the other wall turquoisy sky blue. The final cobalt blue colourwash on top will have to be done afterwards, with great care and lots of drop cloths to protect the pretty new cream tile.

This Summer has gone so fast, I'm looking forward to starting classes again (though the $350 pile of books stung more than a little), I don't know if life ever really stops accelerating, but it's feeling like a fairly productive hectic pace right now. It's also very exciting to have our first big project done: painting over the crummy absorbent flat white paint in the whole flat, and replacing the poor quality carpet with something more attractive and durable. Of course, we're already talking about changing the colour in the back bedroom , and framing the windows with molding, and...

I have told Matt that after the floor and paint are done I need a month or two with no projects in them, else I will run screaming from the place the next time I hear "so...shall we tackle xyz this weekend?".

Paging Bob

Hey, I know you read this periodically, Verizon is telling me your phone number has changed! Call me! Email me! Come to the BBQ at our place tomorrow!

Unless, of course, you changed your number because all the phone tag we've been playing isn't fun any more and/or you're running off to Alaska to start a new life in the land of the midnight sun.

Atomic

pink, originally uploaded by Rosemary Grace.

This is VERY BRIGHT PINK. It also glows under black light, I went into the cell culture room at work to check it under the UV lights in there.

My fingers are still stained pinkish, I think it'll continue to be the case unless I shampoo my hair with gloves on. I need to get some better photos this weekend, showing the bright bright underbelly (well, back of my head) and all the highlights.

Yay. Pink streaks!

Punk transformation 60% complete...

Processing..., originally uploaded by Rosemary Grace.

Probably not going to prevent any alien mind probes, in fact, I'm tempted to see if I can pick up short wave radio.

Under the foil is "Atomic Pink" dye, on hair that has already been bleached with peroxide. I forgot that Tali LOVES to play with tinfoil, he is sitting beside me, gazing with feisty avarice at my crinkly crunchy adornments. I already had to dissuade him from climbing on my shoulder to investigate further.

I wonder if they also do a new-cu-lar blue?

On and off, I've been thinking about having pink streaks in my hair, I had bright fuchsia chunks when I was at university (gulp, eight years ago), and periodically I miss them. Last year, for my birthday, I got deep burgundy/auburn chunks, which mostly showed at the back, and I was briefly satisfied. I have also been thinking that if I'm going to do it, I should perhaps do it NOW, as a graduate student, rather than later, as a Public Health Professional. Yesterday I said to myself "just call Red and have her help you put the damn pink in already". I didn't call yet.

This morning I got a mass text message from her saying she got sent Atomic Pink dye by mistake instead of her customary Nuclear Red, and who wants pink hair...?

I do! Sorry Mum!

(though I have emailed the office I am interning at to see if it would be a problem for me to show up with pink highlights, I'm not THAT dedicated to my inner punk)

I missed you too, now let me SLEEP

Tali spent the first night we were back trampling up and down my body, pausing to paw at my face if I stopped petting him for more than a few seconds, then last night he was alternating between us, snuzzling Matt's nose, and head butting my face, purring and chirping all the time. Very cute, but I feel a bit jet lagged today, cat lagged - coming back to the left coast the time difference usually makes it easier to get up early for a week or so. Marble has been a little less pushy in showing her affection, she slept on me all night, and is more keen than usual to sit on my lap, but has been leaving the sleep deprivation treatment up to her diva of a brother.

It's good to be home, it was a great holiday, but it was turning into a money pit, I got a speeding ticket, Matt's phone died after riding a very wet (very fun!) water ride twice in a row in his pocket, then on the last evening in Williamsport, a bottle of beer tipped over right onto (and into) Matt's laptop keyboard and wireless card port. The computer still smells a bit of Yuengling's finest Lager, but appears to be working. The phone technically works, but the display is kaput, making it a little difficult to search contacts and whatnot.

Pennsylvania is such a beautiful state, I'll be posting photos once we get our acts together and download them. Rolling green farmland and forested hills, creeks (the size of rivers) and rivers (very big rivers), fireflies blinking in the twilight, houses made of brick, wood and fieldstone, and red painted barns.

One More

Shamokin Dam (pronounced shMOKE-in, like Jim Carrey)

Off for a jaunt

Around Pennsylvania, at the very least taking in Gettysburg & Valley Forge, the highlights of Philadelphia (Liberty Bell, Congressional Hall), and some Amish goodies in Lancaster County. Place names in PA are a funny mixture of highly familiar (Carlisle, Lancaster, York), Native American (Loyalsock, Susquehanna), and slightly comical Germanic (Mifflinberg). I'm sure my in-laws will get a kick out of me reading Maisie books to my niece and nephew in an Edinburgh accent, I hope it's enough offset my sophomoric giggling at every other town name, and insistence on taking photographs of road signs that tickle my fancy.

Yellow Fluorescence Becomes Her

MyPicture.jpg, originally uploaded by Rosemary Grace.

I'm wearing makeup today because Wednesday was our third wedding anniversary, and after work today we're going to go out for sushi and a movie to celebrate.

This is the first time in two years that I have put makeup on for fun, because I felt like eyeshadow and sparkly eyeliner, without the foremost though being "I could use some concealer on that scar, I don't want to look like madame knife-fight for this event". After the surgery I made a conscious decision not to begin wearing makeup everyday, because it felt like camouflage, it felt like trying to sanitize myself so as not to unsettle people with the marks of The Big C. I was never a daily makeup wearer, why change?

I did change though, I still put on makeup for events or parties, but my focus shifted from having fun playing up my baby blues to painting out the flaws in the hopes of passing for undamaged. Melodramatic language yes, but it's how I felt. The scar is still the first thing I see almost every time I look in a mirror. Not every time though, I'm making progress, I'm beginning to catch myself glancing in a mirror, patting down a stray hair, or smoothing my eyebrows, and going about my business without even scanning my cheek.

Not in Kansas any more

Gunshots! Across the street! Two of them! Matt was by the window and heard the ka-chunk of the next round chambering (ex-military, grew up in hunting country, knows gun noises), he leapt up, got out of view of the window, and called 911. We are waiting for police to show up, they'll want to interview him, since he called them.

Oh, apparently our street is cordoned off, and swarming with police. This is reassuring: immediate police presence in response to gunfire.

I'm a little stunned, I'm thinking of the other times we've heard a loud *crack* sound from that apartment complex and discounted it as illegal firecrackers, rather than illegal weapons.

Planes, trains and automobiles, though not in that order

My Mum flew into LA last week, visiting for Granny's birthday. I took Friday off work and drove to LAX straight after work on Thursday. After 3 hours of driving directly into the low evening sun my seared eyeballs and I rolled up at the airport at 8.01, a minute before her plane was scheduled to land. I called Matt, so he could check the flight status online for me. It read "diverted". Visions of having to drive to Arizona (or Idaho, or Canada...) to rescue my mother from a night in a motel quickly developed into wondering if "diverted" meant "hijacked". I swiftly parked and went to find an airline employee before my imagination completely took over.

Blah blah storm in Midwest delayed incoming plane blah blah takeoff 4 hours late blah blah low on fuel (umm...low on fuel?) blah blah stopping in Phoenix to gas up...will land at half past midnight. Maybe. The good part being that she was still going to be landing at the right airport, and I didn't have to hang about for half-hourly updates; the bad part being 4-5 hour delay, landing after midnight, followed by a 3 hour drive back to San Diego. I decided to go see a movie, just to kill the time, because 4-5 hours of knitting and reading a magazine in horrible airport air and fluorescent light would have left me in bad shape for the drive back. Finding a cinema involved using Matt, and Matt's laptop (back at home) as a makeshift GPS, where I drove up Sepulveda Blvd, calling out the cross streets and he tried to find me on Google Maps, then find a cinema we could be reasonably certain was a mainstream one, not a sketchy adult movie house. I ended up at the Pacific Theater in Culver City, in a very charming little entertainment zone with stylish people dining al fresco, a few shops selling very designed looking furniture, and a fountain outside the cinema. I was very glad that my jaunt didn't take me to a bad neighborhood, as I left the movie at midnight to go back to LAX.

Mum landed, tired but fairly chipper, and had no checked luggage, so we could go straight out to the car and get on the road. Some ibuprofen helped me make the drive back without a splitting headache at the end of it, and we got home at 3.30am. Ugh. The next morning we were all up at about 7, as Matt was working that day, and we had hair appointments. The weekend got much better from then. Ending with putting Mum on a train for LA, where she is now visiting with her sister.

I saw (most of) Iron Man by the way, did not expect to enjoy it, but it was really good.

Meme: 63 random questions

Copied from K.

1. The phone rings; who do you want it to be? Somebody with good news, I always feel guilty when my phone rings, I'm convinced it's going to be someone reminding me of a commitment I have missed.
2. When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart? Now' I'm in California, I return my cart, though usually I'm cart-less and using my own eco-warrior basket. In the UK I happily returned my trolley to the correct place.
3. In a social setting, are you more of a talker or a listener? I'm either very much one or the other, depending on who I'm talking to. I either end up telling my life story, or having a life story told to me.
4. Do you take compliments well? Not really, I'm trying to learn to believe them.
5. Do you play Sudoku? I keep intending to try.
6. If abandoned alone in the wildernedd, would you survive? If I had Matt with me, I think so, if I didn't...maybe, through thinking of what Matt would tell me to do. If I had a knife. I should start hiking with knife, maybe also GPS.
7. Do you like to ride horses? Yes, but I have very bad luck with them, I'm a complete beginner and I seem to get stuck with the wild one or the sleepy one, I broke my arm pony-trekking because the instructors didn't check that the girth was tight enough. I want to learn to ride properly some day.
8. Did you ever go to camp as a kid? Primary Seven camp, pretty similar to the US sixth grade camp experiences from what I've heard. I hated a lot of it, the gully scramble was exciting at first, but utterly miserable by the end, and some girls from another school decided to make me that week's Xtreme Bullying target for the week.
9. What was your favorite game as a kid? Dress-up, and solo make-believe in my garden.
10. If a sexy person was pursuing you, but you knew he/she was married, would you go for it? Hah! Nope. I find it pretty ridiculous that this is seen as a major moral conundrum. Spoken-for = not and option, therefore NOT SEXY. Sexiness depends a great deal on availability.
11. Could you date someone with different religious beliefs than you? Probably, if they were ok with me keeping my different opinions.
12. Do any songs make you cry? Yes, and films.
13. Are you continuing your education? As we speak. (type)
14. Do you know how to shoot a gun? Aim, squeeze trigger. Some guns I know how to check the safety, I once knew how to dismantle a military rifle (RAF Royal Officers Training Core), and I'm a good shot. I strenuously object to personal firearms, but am married to a man who aims to own a muzzle-loader (does that count as differing religion?).
15. If your house was on fire, what would be the first thing you grabbed? Husband, cats, photographs/negatives, box of "important documents", then I'd dither about my wedding dress and probably settle by grabbing my jewelry box and the William Morris tapestry I spent five months completing. Matt would have the same order, only add in guitars & kilts and delete wedding dress. I've had a chance to think about these things, with the wild fires etc.
16. How often do you read books? Most days, unless I'm working on back issues of New Scientist. Funny story: a chap once followed me into a book shop on Oxford Street to chat me up, his line was "so...you read a lot of books?". I took this as evidence that he did not read many books. He followed up with a comment on my being "built". I took this as further evidence that he was not a literary type.
17. Do you think more about the past, present or future? Yes. I think a lot.
18. What is your favorite children's book? White Rabbit's Wedding, and the Quangle Wangle Quee.
19. What color are your eyes? Bluegreygreen or greybluegreen.
20. How tall are you? 5'8"
21. Where is your dream house located? Impossible fantasy: somewhere walking distance from my entire family (variously located in SoCal, Pennsylvania, Edinburgh, Berlin, Barcelona, Aix en Provence & Sydney) with an ocean view and a nearby forest.
Potentially possible wishlist: Something historic in the Dean Village or Duddingston, Edinburgh, something colonial with big ancient trees in Pennsylvania, something Mission Style with a garden and a view, on the Westernish slopes of Mt Helix, near San Diego.
22. Do you have a secret fetish? It's a secret.
23. Have you tried sushi? Yes, but the best kind is tempura-fried, which makes it not exactly sushi.
24. Have you ever taken pictures in a photo booth? Yes, they're fun, but unflattering.
25. When was the last time you were at Olive Garden? Haven't been, I like my Italian food less chainy.
26. When was the last time you were at Church? Um. My sister-in-law's wedding in 2003.
27. Where was the furthest place you traveled today? Cafe & Farmer's market in La Mesa, 4 miles. It's Sunday, work is 22 miles away.
28. What was your favorite job? This one.
29. Do you like mustard? I have yet to meet a mustard I do not like.
30. Do you prefer to sleep or eat? What's on the menu?
31. Do you look like your mom or dad? Both. Looking more and more like my Mum.
32. How long does it take you in the shower. 10-15 minutes.
33. Can you do splits? Nope. I can touch my toes though.
34. What movie do you want to see right now? Prince Indiana Caspian Jones of the Crystal Skull
35. If you could fast forward your life, would you? No! I might be tempted if I were offered a selective rewind.
36. What did you do for New Year's? Fell asleep in my hallway. The carpet is quite comfortable there.
37. Do you think The Grudge was scary? Some disturbing images, which is why I left Matt to watch it and went to read in the bedroom. I couldn't be bothered being freaked out.
38. Could you relate to a character in Mean Girls? No.
39. Do you own a camera phone? Yes, but I haven't tried to figure out how to get the photos/videos onto my computer.
40. Do you have an "ex box" with pics and letters from past lovers? No, that would be a little strange.
41. Was your mom a cheerleader? Californian, yes, blond, yes, cheerleader, no.
42. What's the last letter of your middle name? e, e, and d
43. Do you like your middle name? Yes, all of 'em.
44. How many hours of sleep do you get a night? 6-8, with occasional catch-up epic 10-12 nights.
45. Do you like care bears? Meh.
46. What do you buy at the movies? Unsweetened iced tea, or nothing.
47. Do you know how to play poker? No.
48. Do you wear your seat belt? I can't imagine a reason NOT to.
49. What do you wear to sleep? Knit bottoms and a tank top, with optional long sleeved over top if it's chilly.
50. Anything big ever happen in your hometown? Since I've lived here there have been two enormous wildfires and several minor earthquakes. We've got a world famous zoo and a lot of films have been shot hereabouts. My original hometown is much older, and a capital city with castle, so lots of big political and battley things happened there, not to mention real-life grave-robbers, highwaymen, the inspiration for the characters Sherlock Holmes AND Dr Jekyll, and the invention of a little thing called Disinfectant.
51. How many meals do you eat a day? Three.
52. Is your tongue pierced? No.
53. Do you like funny or serious people better? Both, but it's better when people have both traits.
54. Ever been to L.A.? Several times, going there in two weeks. I have family there.
55. Did you eat a cookie today? No. I had chocolate-covered cheesecake on Friday, that's quite enough for a few days.
56. Do you steal or pay for your music downloads? I still buy CDs. I like owning the cover art.
57. Do you hate chocolate? Hah! I hate when it runs out...
58. What do you and your parents fight about the most? Not much now, when I was younger it pretty much always boiled down to a battle of wills.
59. Are you a gullible person? Not for facts, but I do tend to give people's characters the benefit of the doubt. This has sometimes led to being taken advantage of emotionally.
60. Do you need a boyfriend/girlfriend to be happy? No. Good friends are pretty essential though.
61. If you could have any job what would it be? If I could make a living as a potter, I would, but realistically: an Epidemiologist in a position to influence communities for the good.
62. Are you easy to get along with? Usually, some undergrads have found me intimidating, but I think that's because I'm training them and don't let them get away with being intellectually lazy.
63. What is your favourite time of day? Late afternoon/evening. Or moonlight nights.

Thus ends the randomness.

Acronymious

At work, DPN = Diabetic Peripheral Neuropathy. In my head (and in knitting) DPN = Double Pointed Needles.

This leads to my reading a journal article sentence thus: "Pre-clinical studies in diabetic rodent models have shown that Double Pointed Needle is the result of a complex network of interrelated vascular, metabolic, and neurotrophic defects..."

Thank You Mr President

When I first heard that the government had decided to send a $600 check to every taxpayer within a certain income range to alleviate the economic situation I honestly thought that it was a satirical comment. Made up. Swiftian proposal-style. Putting the government into further debt just to give people about a month's rent is certainly not going to fix the lack of a livable minimum wage, the credit crunch, the deflating housing bubble, or the rising cost of living. The people who need help are in serious trouble, way more than $600 per adult and $300 per child. Nevertheless, $1,200 landed in our joint checking account last week. I momentarily contemplated all the lovely shiny things (or fluffy things: that's a lot of alpaca and silk) I could buy with it, then resolutely ignored my patriotic duty as an American Consumer to spend spend spend and paid down a student loan.

Of course, later this year Matt and I plan to use part of my student loan money to replace our carpet...but for the next few months thats a grand not accruing interest, and I am extremely glad that we are in a situation where the "Economic Stimulus Package" is a nice bonus, not an insulting droplet in an ocean of financial woes.

My final grades are supposed to be posted in 5 days, I'm checking at least once a day just in case they get posted early. It's very nice to be able to go home after pilates, instead of rushing off to campus. I spent 20 minutes in the sauna after my workout on Tuesday, and today I will either do the same, or stick around for the turbo-kick class. It depends on how strong I feel after pilates. I need to get some intense cardiovascular stuff going, my muscles are improving, but my jeans are still tight, and it's uncomfortable. I originally typed "I'm sick of my jeans feeling tight" but you know what? it's not the end of the world, it's just unpleasant, and I can do something about it, in fact I am doing something about it: I joined SparkPeople, and I'm calorie counting again, so far it's not driving me batty, just keeping me from fooling myself that I really can have every cookie that's offered and beer with dinner and start to loose weight.

*Edited to add* Some grades are now up, I got A's in Biostatistics and Chronic Disease, now I'm just waiting to hear about the tricky one: Health Admin. Yay!

Nine Units Down (almost)

Last final today, in Health Administration, I am exhausted. I ended up calling in sick from work yesterday and today so I could rest up and fend off this sore throat/headache/migraine in time for this last exam. The biostatistics final exam was rather epic. It was straightforward enough to me, since it was open book there were not horrible formulae to memorize, and I was rather pleased with how I was able to pick the procedures without referring to the giant flowchart in the back of the textbook, but the exam started at 7pm, I'm normally a fast test-taker, and I left the room at 9.30. I was only about the third person to finish and leave. My study mate for that class called me the next day to say that many people stayed till 10.30pm! The professor evidently misjudged the length.

Tomorrow I've got a vacation day scheduled, and I will be visiting my friend Mike, who is also a massage therapist, and has a hot tub at his house. The genius man called me this morning to remind me to bring my suit so I can relax in the hot tub before he gives me a massage! Bliss!

Less stinking

I told the story to a couple of (young, female) coworkers, and they took much more exception to the response ("is that a prediction?") than to the initial statement. But they expressed concern at the whole exchange, and the general atmosphere (as reported by me) in that lab. This made me feel better: it's not just me being sensitive, and it's not just me thinking that I can't really call them on this incident.

The term "raped" is used in SoCal where I'm used to hearing "screwed" or "buggered", which, I suppose, technically have very similar meanings. I've heard people use it before, and always been very shocked, Mat even used it once when referring to to unpleasant financing terms on a car loan, but after seeing me turn green he never used it again.

I suppose the upshot of this little episode is that I have learned two things: I am hypersensitive due to my personal history, and it's worth it to tell a contemporary when I feel uncomfortable, chances are she'll agree with me, but reporting to supervisors doesn't always make a difference.

I am stinking mad

I was over in another lab picking up samples, which involved searching through three large disorganized freezers. I went through all three twice before I found everything I needed.

That's not why I'm mad.

The guy who works in that lab is a pig. I always thought he was a tolerable pig, the freezers are all named after porn stars, but he left me alone, only teased the girls who went along with his sexist jokes, and was pleasantly big-brotherly to a young woman he supervises. I'll call her X. As I was rooting through the freezers, conversation fell to fuel prices, how much we each pay to fill up our cars, and what mileage they get. X drives a German car, and gets TERRIBLE mileage, worse than any of us expected to hear from that car, we all paused to marvel at how much she must be spending on gas. Then the pig chuckles to himself and says to another guy in the room "Heh, X is getting raped". Pig #2 chuckles back and says "is that a prediction...?"

I don't know if X heard. She was on the other side of the room, and it's a noisy room. I heard.

Did I call them on it? Did I tell them to apologize to X and myself, and to imagine how they'd feel if they heard some guys joking about their sister, mother or partner being raped?

No. I bit my tongue and kept looking for my samples. I fought down a panic attack. I wanted to cry, I wanted to cry, to scream, to give him just an inkling of the level of pain caused by an offhand remark on that subject, but I could not let him see he'd actually affected me. I ran through scenarios in my head: could I complain to their boss? My boss? Would it change anything? I don't know. It's one isolated incident, it would mean creating a big stink when I don't even have to work around the pig. X does, she's exposed to misogynist girls-gone-wild crap all the time in that room, and evidently, the occasional jest about her potential violation.

These guys should be made to watch documentaries about survivors of sexual abuse. They need to realize that, with this behaviour, they are part of the machine that chews women up and spits them out all over the world. It makes me sick that for all my feminist viewpoints, when it came down to it, I bit my tongue and got on with my work. I'm honestly not sure if I'm picking my battles with this, or just chickening out on my principals.

Raising the Training Wheels

I recently graduated from biweekly to monthly counseling. After about a year, with the antidepressants working really well, and the emotional boost from successfully applying for my MPH program, I started to think that I wouldn't have much to talk about every two weeks, and it would help my schedule to scale back too. My counselor brought it up as I was preparing to start classes, and I agreed.

When I first sought counseling (well, the first time since moving to San Diego), I went only once a month, and it was useless. So much was going on in my life, and my emotions, that I'd have some crisis at the two-week point, struggle through it, and then be too distanced from it by the time I got back to see my counselor to figure out what had caused the emotional crash. My sessions would turn into "well, I was having a horrible time two weeks ago, but I'm FINE now..." So when I decided to approach counseling as a however-long-it-takes proposition, we started weekly, quickly found that was too often, and settled into a biweekly routine. My sessions would send me off in a positive frame of mind, set up well for the week, then as challenges presented themselves, my next meeting with the warm, ironic woman in the rainbow sweater was only (at worst) 10 days away, and I would picture myself telling her about what was going on, and it helped me get through without a meltdown. Often it got me through without even getting close to a meltdown.

Now the monthly cycle (not THAT monthly cycle) seems to be working, I am still getting a bit more harried at about the two-week point, my emotional stability must have a 14 day refractory period or something, but I am spotting problems in time, and while I am still able to force myself to take a look at what's really going on. I have to take a bit of time to myself to calm down and sort out the negative thoughts. I feel like the training wheels are still there, I can ( and do) wobble more but there's something there to prevent me from falling completely over, so I can stand the wobbling while I learn to balance by myself.

I am stressed out, but less depressed/anxious. I also know why I'm stressed out: I'm busy and working hard! I make more sense to myself than I did this time last year.

Job #1, Job #2

I'm in the process of lining up "fieldwork" for the summer for my Master's program. I know this conjures up images of wellington boots, butterfly nets, fishing rods, mud, and...fields, but in my case it's more likely to mean an office with a computer, a pile of reports, surveys, or case studies, and a big fat database into which I distill the important information contained in the pile. The prospect of the office having a real window is exciting, my current office is in the basement, and the lab is in the interior of the building, thus windowless.

Right now I'm hoping I end up in a County program addressing domestic violence, run by a DPH (Doctorate of Public Health) whom I have heard speak twice, as a guest lecturer on the epidemiology of violence. It won't be a lot of hours each week, probably two mornings, a little less than a full working day per week, but it will mean I start work work at about noon on those days, then head towards home about eight in the evening. This sounded crazy until I compared it to my current schedule, where I get home around nine two nights a week. On those days I head out the door in the morning carrying five bags: purse, small briefcase, gym bag, lunch bag, and second "lunch" bag, an insulated one with a cold pack in it, to preserve my evening meal until I arrive on campus after my workout.

This new schedule will have me home just before nine two nights a week, around 7 another two (after working out), and at about 5pm on Fridays, which will also be the day I carpool with my husband. Not to mention NO HOMEWORK for internships. Practically a summer vacation now I think of it.

Humans can talk themselves into anything.

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Marble Approves This Flooring

FloorProject, originally uploaded by Rosemary Grace.

Home improvement is good exercise.

We now have laminate floor in our bedroom. I have very sore thighs from kneeling and crouching all weekend installing it, I am impressed that I managed to clear most of the furniture out of the bedroom by myself on Friday, without putting my back out, and then put most of it back this afternoon, though I had to get Matt to handle the heaviest dresser drawers. This is the benefit of a five week habit of pilates twice a week.

The weekend had a nice finish, our good friends and neighbors L & G are clearing out their stash of crafts tools, we scored some calligraphy pens, a complete set of crochet hooks of every size, leather-tooling gadgets, and about an inch stack of Crane's writing paper. Plus, unexpected bonus hanging out with our friends for a drink and conversation while we prowled their stash like vultures.

Photos of the reflooring process to come, but considering we haven't downloaded from the camera since November...don't hold your breath. I know I'm not.

...fellow, well met

Hail!

It has hailed twice this afternoon, it came on very quickly, the first time mixed with rain, so it took us a while to realize what was making the *ping* noise on the BBQ, the second time, just dry hailstones the size of green peas or larger (almost 1cm across!). The kids in the flat across the green ran out, giggling, to experience it, then they pulled out bright yellow umbrellas with ducks faces painted on. We stood on our doormat, under the overhang of the balcony above, enjoying the novelty, and feeling the air drop temperature by the minute, until it dropped a little too much for sandals (Matt) and pajamas (me) and we retreated indoors for some spicy tea.

Conversation with a Californian Undergraduate

CalUG: Where are you from, you have an accent?
Me: Edinburgh, Scotland, and I went to university in London.
CalUG: Oh WOW, I've always wanted to travel there! I want to do a year abroad in the UK!
Me: You should, it's a great experience, my cousin did a semester in Florence, and really enjoyed it, I did a year abroad too!
CalUG: Really, where did you go?
Me: Here.
CalUG:...*blank look*
Me: *waiting for it to sink in*
CalUG: Oooooh! Here is "abroad" for you!
Me: Yup, odd isn't it?

Actually she was bright and fun to talk to, some people I've had the same conversation with never get there themselves, and don't quite get it even when I point out that I was one of the UK students being exchanged for a US student, hence "exchange student". It was such a classic moment of watching her world view expand just a little bit. I'm used to people viewing my home town as a place to visit, and to go to university, it's a major holiday and student exchange destination. I'm used to thinking of "abroad" and "foreign" as relative terms, entirely subjective, it still surprises me when I realize that to a large majority they are absolute terms. Though I suppose that absolute definition of "other" does explain a lot about what goes on in the world.

Experimental Quiche

I found a pie crust in the freezer, some sharp cheddar that had dried out a little, and blueberries that need to be eaten....and I remembered how good blueberry beer tastes with cheddar. So it's in the oven right now, I hope it comes together!

This is based on the cheese and scallion quiche in the Vegetarian Epicure:
Pre-bake the pie crust for 7 minutes at 450F, while it is cooling, saute a very small yellow onion in olive oil, add a pinch of baker's yeast, spread the cooked onion in the base of the crust, add a few ounces of sharp cheddar, cut into 1cm cubes, the contents of a 3oz punnet of blueberries, salt & pepper. Whisk six eggs and about 4fl.oz. of half-and-half (light whipping cream) with nutmeg, salt and pepper, pour it into the quiche and bake at 450F for 15min, then 350F for 15min. Finger crossing optional.