The Biological Imperative

A day in the life...

2011-11-13T16:00:00.000-05:00

I got up this morning to the sound of two-year old feet scampering down the hallway. Little Carrie Hod was up and ready for cinnamon rolls. We adults had stayed up last night making the rolls from scratch, and now they just needed to be baked.

While we waited, I rather clumsily put a french braid in Carrie's hair. She was very patient with me, and stood still - more or less - the entire time. But I think her mom Sarah and I were more excited than Carrie about both the rolls and the hairdo.

After a delicious breakfast, we eventually bestirred ourselves to go for a nature walk in Marshlands Comservancy. The baby, Liam, was strapped to his mother in a complex sling called a Mobli. Only a small tuft of hair attested to the fact that there was a person in there. Not wanting Carrie to feel left out, dad Brendan put on a blanket in which to swaddle her.

Soon Carrie was walking all by herself, though - leading the way, a brave little trailblazer. She tripped once or twice, but after just a few tears she'd be up and going again. So calm and resilient. I want to be just like her when I grow up.

Visiting the Hod clan

2011-11-12T20:25:00.000-05:00

I'm up in New York visiting my friends and their cute kids today. Their daughter is an introspective two-year old and their son is just one month. I'm sleeping in what will be his room once he can sleep on his own.

Lots of people with kids this age can only talk about their kids, and then usually to praise them. But I've known this couple for over a decade now, and they're not the kind to lose perspective. Sure, we mostly talk about their adorable kids - but we talk about the times when they're not-so-adorable. We also talk about careers and recent scientific developments and theories of psychology. We reminisce about our college days and retell our favorite stories.

The best part about visiting the Hods is that they don't ask the prying questions that other married with children couples often ask. They don't feel the need to affirm their way of life by making sure you conform to it. Accordingly, I have not been asked, "When are you going to get married and start a family?"

11/11/11

2011-11-11T23:11:00.000-05:00

I feel like 11/11/11 should have been momentous, but really it was pretty ordinary. I had a busy clinic day, ran a few errands, played around on the computer. I was supposed to meet some work friends for drinks, but that kind of fizzled. So I spent a quiet, boring night at home with Harvey.

Last year, on 10/10/10, I was worried about finding a job when my fellowship ended in December. The year before that on 9/9/09, I was nervous about starting my fellowship rotation at the NIH. And three years ago on 8/8/08, I was miserable at my old job in Charlottesville. So maybe having an ordinary day isn't so bad.

Lost and Found

2011-11-10T23:30:00.002-05:00

Today, on the way to my friend's place in Alexandria, I got lost. Horribly, irrevocably lost. It was dark, rainy, the traffic was tremendous, and my GPS quit on me. This was particularly terrifying for me, since I have almost no nascent sense of direction.

I hate that - I hate being the stereotypical Asian woman who can't drive, I hate how helpless and stupid I feel. The worst part is when I can't rise above it, when I can't laugh at myself. When I finally reached my friend's place, I actually broke down and started crying. It was humiliating - but my friends just have me a hug and brought me a drink and let me cry it out. Maggie helped more than she could know by just saying, "It's weird - you're so smart!"

It was almost worth it, to have my friends show me that just because I get lost doesn't make me a loser.

Tex-Mex casserole made "skinny"

2011-11-09T22:43:00.001-05:00

We celebrated the boss' birthday today with a Tex-Mex themed potluck. We had chili with rice, salad, homemade salsa, cornbread and cupcakes (*drool*). I decided to be ambitious and bring a casserole - and I tried to reduce the fat of the recipe. Here's a link to the original recipe, and below is what I came up with!

Ingredients
1 pound lean ground ~~beef~~ turkey
2 cups salsa
1 (16 ounce) can ~~chili beans~~ black beans, drained and rinsed
3 cups corn tortilla chips, crushed
2 cups fat free sour cream
1/2 cup chopped green onion*
1/2 cup chopped tomato*
2 cups reduced fat shredded cheese

*I cheated with a can of diced tomatoes and onions

Directions
1. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, cook ground turkey until no longer pink. I added some red pepper and salt to taste. Stir in salsa, reduce heat, and simmer 20 minutes, or until liquid is absorbed. Stir in beans, and heat through. If you're worried about the toughness of the black beans, do what I did and boil them separately for a few minutes.
2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
3. Spray a 9x13 baking dish with cooking spray. Spread crushed tortilla chips in dish, and then spoon turkey mixture over chips. Spread sour cream over turkey and sprinkle green onion and tomato over the sour cream. Top with cheese.
4. Bake in preheated oven for 30 minutes, or until hot and bubbly.

This was a huge success - people came back for seconds and took home doggy bags. Even my refined palate (hah!) couldn't detect the reduced fat-ness. I made a smaller vegetarian casserole for our receptionist - I just left out the turkey and increased the black beans to compensate. She was very appreciative, and my fellow omnivores enjoyed that version as well.

The best part is that this recipe only requires two "fresh" ingredients - sour cream and cheese. Keep some ground turkey in the freezer and the rest of the stuff in the cupboard, and you can have this complete meal almost any time. Enjoy!

A detailed list of the foods I encountered today

2011-11-08T23:57:00.000-05:00

1. Bowl of cereal with fat-free milk
2. Ham sandwich on pumpernickel with lettuce, tomato, and a teensy bit of mayo
3. Side of strawberries and grapes
4. Light yogurt
5. Handful of popcorn (OK, two handfuls)
6. Turkey dinner with stuffing, green beans and biscuits
7. Small slice of pumpkin pie
8. A bite or two from a casserole I put together for work tomorrow

I'm trying not to obsess about this weight thing, and am failing completely. I got up early this morning and did a few quick exercises - and I'm still feeling it now. Odds are even that I won't be as good tomorrow, but only time will tell...

What a waist

2011-11-07T17:12:00.000-05:00

So, I went to the doctor today and she told me that I need to lose weight - like, a lot of weight. And while this is nothing new, I had been doing well - I just fell off the wagon big time. Now begins the slow and painful process of climbing back up again.

I was watching an interview with Kim Cattrall (sex kitten turned cougar) about her current role in Noel Coward's Private Lives. Apparently, gaining 20 lbs for the role was fantastic for her, since "most of us have been on a diet for 30 years." And that scared the stuffing out of me, cause I can't imagine having willpower for that long.

Bottom line, I need to get to a place where I'm more scared of gaining the weight. SIGH.

3rd Annual Friendsgiving Feast

2011-11-06T23:52:00.001-05:00

... was a complete success. This is a potluck dinner / fundraiser I do a couple weeks before Thanksgiving (one of my favorite holidays). We ended up with two turkeys, two kinds of stuffing, three kinds of mashed potatoes, and much more. Then we had to clear most of that away to make room for all the desserts! Surprisingly enough, I think my favorite dish (besides the garam masala gravy my mom and I made) was the parmesan asparagus my friend Sarah brought. Favorite dessert, hands down, was Gayathri's carrot kheer. Thanks to everyone who came out for fun food and philanthropy, we raised almost $150 for So Others Might Eat! Also, I now have turkey leftovers to last me until next Friendsgiving.

P.S. Please see Facebook for the pictures I'm too tired to re-post at the moment.

Adventures in Home-making

2011-11-05T16:00:00.005-04:00

I awoke this morning to a scene of wanton destruction. Unlike every other morning of my life, it wasn't totally my fault. My pet rabbit, Harvey, had escaped his enclosure. What's more, he managed to tip over his supposedly un-tip-able one-gallon water feeder. His timing was, as usual, impeccable - I had planned to clean the apartment prior to the arrival of my folks this afternoon, and I had brunch plans that would take up most of my morning. SIGH.

Somehow I managed to corral the bun, clean most of his mess, rush through a shower, and make it to Eastern Market in time for brunch with my friends. We ate at Ted's Bulletin, a classy kind of place with a very tasty breakfast menu and "adult" *wink wink* milkshakes. Thus fortified, I was able to return and pretty most of my place up in time for my parent's arrival. As I'm also having my Friendsgiving dinner tomorrow, I exiled Harvey to the guest bedroom and spruced up the place with decorations stol- I mean, re-purposed from my friend Kristin's wedding a few weeks back.

Ta-Da!

My problem is, I don't have much of a nesting instinct. So beyond this, my house is kind of stark. I'm hoping the liveliness of the company will make up for the austerity of the room. No pressure, dinner guests!

Well, that's unfortunate.

2011-11-04T17:39:00.004-04:00

Sooooooo... The NaBloPoMo prompt for today is, "When you write, do you prefer to use pen and paper or the computer?" At the risk of sounding judgmental, I found it utterly inane and not worth my time. Maybe there's a challenge in coming up with something awesome in response to a terrible prompt. If so, challenge NOT accepted, NaBloPoMo. Find someone else to do your dirty work.

I'm still going to keep posting my own inane commentary, don't you fret. Like how I got up before dawn in order to get a sale price on frozen turkeys. I'm having my annual pre-Thanksgiving dinner party slash fundraiser this Sunday, "Friendsgiving." A bigger turn-out this year (hopefully) necessitated buying almost 30 lbs of turkey.

When I went to the store earlier this week, I was advised that the sale prices started on Friday. Accordingly, I dragged my sorry carcass out of bed before 6am this morning - which goes against my essential nature - and headed over to Giant. I had just enough time to grab the birds, toss them in the fridge, and head to work. Simple, right? WRONG.

When I went to the check-out, one of the birds was ringing up at full price. That is to say, THREE TIMES what I had planned to pay. I frantically pressed the "need help" button on the self-check out panel, but since it wasn't yet 7am the store was running on a skeleton crew. Finally, a stock boy came over and used the overhead pager to summon a manager.

First, she cleared my order. She rescanned my order. She cleared it again and used her own bonus card number. In the end, she had someone re-weigh the birds (not sure why this was necessary, but at this point I was not going to argue) and check the circular for the actual price per pound. Then she entered the calculated values in manually and I was finally able to check out.

At this point I was sweating profusely and would almost certainly miss my bus. I hauled the turkeys back home, threw them in the fridge, and trotted out to the bus stop. Luckily for me, it was a few minutes late and I was able catch my bus and make it to work on time. Phew!

People better appreciate these birds, is all I'm saying.

Procrastinators unite... tomorrow

2011-11-03T08:55:00.003-04:00

Day three and I'm already behind on the NaBloPoMo prompts. There's only one solution - do two at once! That's what she said.

Prompt #2: If you knew that whatever you ate next would be your last meal, what would you want it to be?

Duh, an endless buffet. At Kentucky Fried Chicken for preference - although the lack of palatable veggies would likely send me to an early grave anyway. My best KFC story comes from my recent trip to Richmond for my friend Kristin's wedding. I arrived pretty late in the evening, and I was all on my lonesome ownsome until my friend Erin's flight arrived. So I went to my go-to comfort food, sweet ambrosia from the Colonel himself .

"They told me I could be anything I wanted. So I became a cartoon character."

It was the guy at the register's first day, so I had to give my order to him two or three times. Very... slowly... He was grateful for my patience, having no idea that I would have endured this, and much more, for the greasy goodness of a three-piece meal. I noticed the box was much larger than I expected, but toddled off with my prize without a second thought. It wasn't until I got to my hotel room that I realized that KFC employee was an angel sent from god.

That's right - three piece meal made of all breast pieces. You might be saying, "ugh, eating that much chicken would be disgusting." But you are a liar. It was basically one of the best nights of my life.

Prompt #3: Can you listen to music and write? What song did you hear today?

Yeah, sorry, can't stop thinking about KFC. It's just sooooo tasty, y'all. I dream one day of having a family, so I can finally order a bucket of chicken and not feel weird about it. And after my last meal is served to me and they take me off to the chair, my last words will be, "Mmmmmmmmmmm, original recipe."

Lessons from the Family Sri

2011-11-02T11:57:00.000-04:00

Yay, it's the return of "Lessons from the Family Sri." For those of you who missed our previous classes, please click the "lessons" tag below.

Today's Lesson - Communications

Me (calling my brother on the phone): Hey, Monster! I'm making you the beneficiary on my life insurance, and I need your social security number.
Him: Umm...
Me: Let me guess, you don't want to say it over the phone.
Him: Right.
Me: I don't suppose you'd like to send it via email.
Him: Ha!
Me: Then what the hell am I supposed to do? Use telepathy to read it directly from your mind?
Him: Yes. Go!
Me: I will destroy you someday.

Oh, hi...

2011-11-01T22:19:00.006-04:00

I'm going to try to get back in the swing of blogging by joining in on National Blog Posting Month (also known as NaBloPoMo ... no, seriously). This is mostly because I'm too chicken to work on a novella for National Novel(la) Writing Month (NaNoWriMo - you can't make this stuff up. Well, I guess you can, but I didn't).

Anyway, the first prompt was something like, "what is your favorite part of writing?" I guess my favorite part of writing (and life in general) is making people laugh. I had one of my bosses cracking up today with my 'Indian parents' routine, complete with accents. For anyone who knows me, you know I do this all the time and that it is comedy gold. The best part is that my parents like me to "talk like an Indian," too. They used to make me trot out my little routine at dinner parties for the amusement of their friends. So embarrassing, but obviously it just provided me with more and more material. A vicious cycle of hilarity.

My boss: Sri, you are so funny!
Me: Yeah, but you know it all comes from pain.
My boss: Ha ha... ha?

So, yeah. I have heard from a couple of people that this blog is funny from time to time. Honestly, laughing at myself and life is the only way I stay sane. Well, relatively speaking...

Next: "If you knew that whatever you ate next would be your last meal, what would you want it to be?" Prepare yourself for a breathtaking tribute to KFC.

At last, notoriety is mine!

2011-06-17T08:18:00.010-04:00

You're no one until you've been banned somewhere, preferably in a foreign country. And apparently, the Chinese government doesn't want people reading this blog. Wake up, sheeple!

P.S. I know that the firewall probably blocks anything from "blogspot.com," not just my little site. But allow me to dream that somewhere in that vast bureaucracy, one little peon read one my posts and decided I was a dangerous threat to good Communists everywhere. Please!

Vegas Vacay II (cont'd)

2011-06-16T11:35:00.004-04:00

When we last left off, our intrepid adventurers had a busy day of hiking, making friends with bird-men, and freezing near to death in a wintery wonderland (see previous Vegas post). On Friday, Sarah and I got Chris, the Vegas Veteran, to take us around to some of the immensely touristy stuff around town. We visited the Adventuredome, a carnival inside the Circus Circus casino, for some slightly-sketchy rides and games. I beat an arcade game called Title Fight, a boxing game where the main strategy seems to be jerking the controllers in random patterns until the other guy falls down. In other words, this game was made for me.

Probably has to do with all my pent up aggression...

We also took a trip on the New York New York roller coaster, that goes outside the building and gives you a birds-eye view of the strip. I'm afraid I was too busy holding my glasses on my face to really appreciate it. But NYNY is definitely in a tie for first with The Venetian as my fave casino.

That evening, several of us hunted down a purportedly famous fast food place on the strip - Pink's Hot Dogs. I will have to say, my hot dog and fries were crazy tasty and very reasonably priced. Obvy they had several non-blasphemous options for those of us who don't eat beef and/or pork.

Don't let the celebrity endorsements put you off.
Cool drag queens like Frank Marino (aka Ms. Las Vegas) eat there, too.

Friday night took us to Zumanity, which probably deserves it's own blog post, but which I'm afraid will have to be edited for adult content. Going in, I decided that it was no time to be a prude and just enjoyed it as an fascinating look into a part of the human psyche I scarcely understand. Despite being burlesque-esque, the major draw was still the athleticism of the gymnasts - Cirque du Soliel never fails to amaze/frighten me. I'm always convinced that this will be the show where some rigging collapses or some harness breaks... *shudder* Spoiler alert: everyone survived... this time!

New design

2011-05-27T16:55:00.002-04:00

Experimenting with a new style - hope it doesn't make anyone nauseated. The pic of my family will hopefully return in the near-ish future. In the meantime, enjoy this adorable picture of a baby orangutan.

D'awww...

Vegas Vacay II: The Revenging

2011-05-25T09:27:00.002-04:00

Vegas, baby! Once again, Chris and Kent kindly opened their hearts and their timeshare to us this past week. I flew out with them on Wednesday, and we met up with Maggie and Sarah F. Between Maggie's desire to see shows, Chris' love of hiking, Kent's interest in slot machines, and Sarah's hope to experience all the sights/sounds/smells of Vegas, it was a jam-packed vacation.

Our first day was spent provisioning ourselves at Wal-Mart (the only time of year I voluntarily give the Evil Empire my custom) and scoping out the timeshare property. Tahiti Village, as the place is called, is located off the Vegas Strip and boasts such amenities as the Lazy River (a quarter-mile loop of pool water with a gentle current that carries you through the full circuit as you are splashed by playful waterfalls ... no, really), a well-appointed barbecue patio, and frequent shuttles to The Strip. The rooms are very nice, and this time we got a suite - with this many girls and gays, two bathrooms was a must.

We woke up early Thursday morning to hike in Red Rock Canyon - and discovered that a "moderate" difficulty trail translates into 20% hiking and 80% scrambling over dusty rocks. The end of the trail led us to a fascinating natural lake, which Maggie, Kent and I stopped to admire and which Chris and Sarah immediately hiked around. Purportedly, there was a lovely view of Las Vegas on the other side, but I was too exhausted to see for myself. It seems I am less prepared, fitness-wise, for the zombie apocalypse than I originally thought.

On Thursday night we celebrated Chris' birthday - first at our favorite bar, the Blue Martini, then with dinner at Khotan for pan-Asian cuisine and a birds-eye view of the Siren Show at Treasure Island. Literally - the guy dressed as a parrot waved to me! Then, as a surprise, we took Chris to the Minus 5 Ice Lounge. As you might imagine, the glasses, decorations, chairs, tables, walls, and ceiling were all made of ice. We each rented a thick coat, boots and gloves. A few wolf pelts were through around to allow us to sit without freezing our bums off. It was a rather surreal experience - and a rather brief one, since apparently the human body cannot withstand such temperatures for more than 30 minutes. I felt sorry for the bartender, who was more scantily clad (though she was wearing an enormous fur hat) - but happily they rotate out frequently so as not to suffer from frostbite.

I will stop there and save Friday and Saturday for another post. I also owe Maggie and the world several TV blog posts, which I will attend to post-haste!

Do I even have to say it?

2011-04-04T09:53:00.010-04:00

Just in case you all were wondering/worried, my last post was my annual April Fool's Day prank. And not posting for the past three months was all an elaborate lead-in... Anybody buying that? No? Oh well, can't blame a girl from trying.

As someone once said, "I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once." That's what it's been like for me since January. New job, new condo, etc etc. And have I mentioned I'm now going on dates with Indian men my mother finds on the internet? Somewhere in all that, blogging fell by the wayside.

The new condo is pretty sweet, though. It's up in Maryland, which is closer to work and helps me check "live outside of Virginia" off my bucket list. A couple of my friends have been weirdly off-put by me switching states. It seems that Northern Virginia hates Maryland like Southwest Virginia hates Northern Virginia. Oh yeah, I went there.

What's that? You actually don't care where the heck I live but want to hear more about the random Indian men? Apologies, fair readers, but that will have to be a post for another time.

Update

2011-04-01T09:12:00.005-04:00

As many of you have realized, I have not updated this blog for some time - actually since my resolution to update more frequently. It's about time I came clean about my long absence. For the past several months, I have been living in an psychiatric hospital.

"But Sri," you say, "I've seen you out and about. I've been to your apartment!" And you'd be right. Luckily for me, the hospital (Shippig Haven) has a pretty liberal day-pass policy. The apartment can be explained simply by my family's attempt to save face, to maintain the facade of a normal life for me. A kind but ultimately misguided effort.

The thing is, I'm tired of treating this like a dirty little secret. I now realize that creating a shrine full of Felicia Day pictures, including authentic long-range shots (props from Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog, wink wink) was wrong. And that wearing a red wig I had fashioned out of clippings from the dumpster behind her hairdresser's while reciting lines from The Guild was neither healthy nor hygienic. I know all this now, and am ready to move on with my life.

The first step in my recovery was admitting that I had a problem. The final step was admitting it to all of you. Thank you in advance for your words of compassion and support. At last I feel ready to reenter the world as a new, more balanced, Sri.

So, has anyone watched Dragon Age: Redemption yet?

New Year's Resolutions

2011-01-01T15:10:00.003-05:00

I don't usually make year-long resolutions... as my friend Maggie says, "I strive for constant self-improvement." Which, for me, mostly means I get a new big idea fluttering into my little brain every three weeks or so. This year, I have mostly the same resolutions as every year:

1. Exercise to get healthier and lose weight
2. Write more/more often (in, I dunno, a blog or something)

The problem always is the lack of accountability. However, this year I've decided to run/walk a 5k sometime this spring with several friends. If I don't start working out now, I won't be able to keep up and/or finish. I'm half expecting my competitive spirit to take over completely, forcing my weary body across the finish line. Fun!

On the writing front, I got a nice incentive at the New Year's Eve party I went last night. I ran into someone from college who stumbled upon this very blog! "I wasted half and hour at work because of you," he said. I was flattered (and a little apologetic) - people actually read this nonsense!

As long as there are three or four people out there (and my mom totally counts) who want to read about my shenanigans, I have a responsibility - nay, a duty - to keep writing. So Happy New Year, everyone! Look forward to more frequent posting and, remember, you brought this upon yourselves.

It's Gonna Be The Future Soon

2010-12-02T11:46:00.001-05:00

Writer's block. That's all the explanation/apology for the lack of posting that you're going to get. Deal with it.

So, last week was my ten-year high school reunion. I had mixed feelings about it - one one hand, I have degrees in Neuroscience and Genetics, and am completing a prestigious fellowship in DC. I've also lost a bit of weight and learned to tweeze my extremely South Asian eyebrows. On the other hand, in all other respects I am exactly the same person I was in high school... read: a huge nerd. Also, I am not married and don't have children. While those are not necessarily my current goals, I'm only a minor iconoclast and therefore must acknowledge some societal norms. Besides, even Nick got married and had a kid. NICK! (Sorry, Nick. Love to Trish.)

Regardless of my shortcomings, real and perceived, I screwed my (liquid) courage to the sticking place and went. And I actually had a great time. I have kept in touch with several of my high school friends via Facebook (many thanks to Dan, Ann, Jessi, Jenn, and Liz for the moral support), so I had a solid cadre of allies. I met several people who live in DC now, which is always nice. And I choose to believe that Trevor was amused rather than annoyed when I trapped him in a conversation about his painting. (Right, Trevor? Right?!?)

A part of me was dreading this reunion - but then again, doesn't everyone? We envision that all the petty rivalries and trivial slights of high school will carry forward (a la Romy and Michelle). Somehow, we forget that ten years have past - do we really remember who refused to be chemistry partners with us, who snubbed us in the hallway? Even if we remember, do we really care?

Maybe some people do - but they probably chose to stay home, rather than suffer the company of people they despise and who they imagine despise them. It was an fun crowd, and I even followed up on a few promises to "friend" people on Facebook. P.S. When did "friend" become a verb? Anyway, I'm already looking forward to the twenty-year reunion... maybe I'll even have my life together by then.

--

"It's gonna be the future soon!
I won't always be this way,
When the things that make me weak and strange
Get engineered away."
- Jonathan Coulton, Future Soon
(Highly recommended for my fellow nerds who are facing a high school reunion.)

Holy Swiss Cheese, Batman!

2010-10-26T12:09:00.002-04:00

Wow, I haven't updated in a looooong time. I blame the liberal media, or something. Let me catch you up.

1. San Fransisco (cont'd) - as per usual, I geeked the heck out. Went to the Cartoon and Comics museum (Batman retrospective FTW!), Wicked, a hipster beer festival (but couldn't get the dance floor started), Japanese-style karaoke, the Latin pride festival, a band concert in Golden Gate Park, and Fisherman's Wharf. Favorite story of the trip was probably at the Wharf, when me and Mike were waiting in line behind a group of shrieking tweens. It was looking like they'd be the last group on the boat, and we'd have to wait for another hour. So I used my super mind powers to make one of them drop her ticket into the water. Muahahahaha... Also, when we got back, we made sure to walk by their group (still in line) and comment about how great the ride was. I love Mike because he will do evil things with me, and never judge.

2. I started the final rotation of my Fellowship, on Capitol Hill. It's literally a different world here, and I now know why Hill Experience is like gold in this town. Only by living amongst the natives can you hope to understand their bizarre customs and crazy moon language. But everyone in my office is cool. I guess I can't really talk about what I'm doing, so that's all on the work front.

3. Vegas - Maggie, Chris, Kent and I went to Vegas earlier this month, and it was awesome! I went to LOVE (the Beatles-themed Cirque du Soleil show), the Bellagio fountain show, the Vegas Renn Fest (turkey leg was not as delicious as MD Renn Fest), the Divas Las Vegas drag show, hiking in in the Valley of Fire, and the World Buffet at the Rio. Favorite part of the trip was probably a tie between LOVE and Divas Las Vegas... though I did but a DVD of Divas, so you can guess which has a slight advantage.

The real question is, what have I been doing with my internet time (if not blogging)? I'm pretty addicted to Wonkette right now, cause news + sarcasm = joy. But I'm determined to get back into the swing of things with blogging (this includes the TV Blog, Maggie, I promise)! Stay tuned, my little chickadees.

San Francisco... FINALLY

2010-07-06T17:56:00.000-04:00

"I want San Francisco pics, Monkey!" - Maggie Cats
"Where is the full summary of our SF misadventures?" - Mike
"You need to blog more. That last blog was pathetic!" - close relative who shall remain anonymous (you know who you are).

The people have spoken. And so I bring you, San Francisco's Not Going Anywhere, So Keep Your Hair On: Part I. And since even I don't remember what the hell I did on this trip, I shall use my Twitter posts as a reference.

Airport terminals provide the first flavor of a new city. SF is all modern furniture and pot plants. Sweet-smelling, too.
10:55 PM May 28th via txt

Addendum: And Chinese art.
10:56 PM May 28th via txt

So, clearly the newness of Twitter has gotten the better of me. My travel Tweets are completely inane, even by microblogging standards. Let's move on.

Mike was kind enough to pick me up at the airport. I was still on East Coast time, so even though it was late and I was travel funky, I was ready for fun! Luckily we also met up with Mike's old roommate, Henry, and a friend of his who were in town for a wedding. Had it been just Mike and me we undoubtedly would have gone straight back to his place, ate cupcakes and went to bed. As it was, we ended up bouncing from an Irish pub to a late-night Indian buffet to a dance club called Mayes. The place was ridiculously crowded. I body-checked my way to a clear space to tweet this:

Dancing at Mayes consists of fighting for floor space, then standing still while people elbow you in the kidneys.
3:12 AM May 29th via txt

Sweaty and bruised, at the end of the night I was incredibly thankful that Mike had driven us to Mayes. He only lives a couple blocks away - but every single block in San Francisco goes uphill at a ridiculous, thigh-punishing angle. If I had to walk home after a cross-country plane ride and a night of shenanigans, I would've died. Luckily, I survived my first night in San Francisco - only three more days and two more nights to go!

P.S. Some pictures will be posted here, and more will be posted on Facebook. I swear.

Random (International) Thoughts

2010-05-14T18:35:00.003-04:00

1. Is there a word for "the sudden intense dislike of a stranger whose behavior reminds one too much of oneself?" I bet there is in German.

2. Saw a woman wearing a t-shirt today that said, We Are All Palestinian. I better go get my passport changed.

3. It's raining from a bright sky ... a Japanese person might call that kitsune no yomeiri, or the wedding of a fox demon. In the South, we say the Devil is beating his wife.

Act Locally

2010-05-04T07:48:00.002-04:00

Last night, my friend Emily looked up from the lamb meat she was ripping apart with her bare hands to ask, "Why no blog posts lately?" As I stared into her gristly visage, I had to acknowledge that she had a point. Sometimes I compose entire entries in my head, only to forget all about actually publishing them them. Unfortunately, that's not the case today. So you will all now be subjected to disjointed ramblings about my life. If you have a problem with that... take it up with Emily.

On Saturday, Maggie and I helped a friend move. This provided me ample opportunity to demonstrate my superior strength (at least compared to Maggie), so though I was exhausted I was well pleased with myself. Afterward we lunched at Two Amys, a Neapolitan pizzeria in my neighborhood, and had dessert at Something Sweet, an adorable little cupcakes/ cookies/ ice cream/ coffee place. After Maggie dropped me off at home, I showered and changed and headed right back out to Big Planet Comics for Free Comic Book Day with my friend Jays. I got one free comic... and dropped $75 on graphic novels. Ooops.

Though I love comic books, I much prefer owning them
in the form of trade paperbacks.

Later I met up with my friend Justin to play Rock Band and have dinner at Alero, a nearby Tex Mex restaurant that I enjoy. From this whole story you should be able to understand two things about me - the first is that I'm a big ol' nerd. The second is that I like to patronize local businesses. In fact, while Emily was cajoling me into posting more (with bits of cheese stuck to her face), we were dining at BGR - a great burger place up in Bethesda. Don't ask me why Emily's burger disintegrated into a pile of meat, bread and cheese crumbles that she was obliged to messily devour. It's part of her charm.

Anyway, what was I saying... oh yeah, supporting local businesses. It feels like a terribly hipster-ish thing to say. And I will freely admit that I'm not 100% sure why it's so important - dollars in the local economy, jobs and infrastructure, etc etc I'm sure. From a purely personal standpoint, though, local restaurants and stores are just more fun. Sure, a local bookstore doesn't have the convenience or selection of Amazon. Maybe the sandwiches at the corner deli cost a couple bucks more than Subway. But think about how boring life would be if we only had global chains. Every town would be the same, except for maybe the number of Starbucks it was able to support. Those are my two cents - and they're going to stay right here in NW DC.

2010-04-16T08:14:00.004-04:00

This morning I was in a bit of a melancholy mood... I don't remember what made me think of this, but I was remembering when a sophomore girl in high school came up to me and asked, "why do Hindus believe women don't have souls?" I was shocked and not a little offended - immediately I asked her where she got that idea. The answer: her World Literature teacher.

I went up to the teacher in question and asked about the source of this "fact." Off the top of my head I could come up with two to three examples of Hindu mythology* that refuted her statement. I had barely gotten through telling her about Draupadi, who took the five heroic Pandavas as her husbands because of her virtuous past life, when she made some excuse and fled. She never gave me an explanation, and I never found out if she issued a retraction to her class.

What bugged me more than anything else is that both these women (the sophomore and the teacher) were, in their ignorance, looking down on me. I won't try to claim Indians in general and Hindus in particular haven't treated women shamefully, often in the name of god. But to say that my religion disenfranchises half it's followers at such a fundamental level? Who would follow a religion like that? Oh, but I forgot - Indian women have no choice in the matter. We're not agents in the universe, only passive subjects. To borrow an expression... Jesus Christ.

This is why I don't understand why people want religion (e.g. Creationism) taught in schools. Ignore for a moment that the separation of Church and State is an essential part of the Founding Father's vision for America. There's a reason K-12 teachers became teachers, instead of members of the clergy or theology scholars. They simply don't have the expertise or inclination to teach religion.

/rant

--

*Yes, I refer to my own religious doctrine as "mythology." Mostly to remind myself that religion is a creation of people. And because you can't become in-mythology-nated.

Just in case you trust me implicitly

2010-04-02T08:43:00.001-04:00

... yesterday's post was an April Fools' joke. Nothing near as good as the amazing trick I played on my friend Matt when we were in college. It had just gone midnight on April 1st, and he was talking rapturously about the girl he liked, a mutual friend. When he got to a stopping place and looked over at me with those big puppy-dog eyes, I grimaced and shook my head. I then proceeded to tell him that I knew for a fact that the lady in question was aware of his feelings but did not share them. He was CRUSHED. After allowing him two or three minutes to panic, I smiled broadly and said "April Fool's!" He laughed in relief - I cackled in evil glee. Then he looked at me and said, "But she does like me ... right?" Long story short - they're married now.

The first part of yesterday's post, however, was true. I haven't been posting lately due to being busy and stressed. Well ... mostly due to that. It's also due to the fact that I'm a big ol' hypocrite. I started a Twitter account. I know, I know. I've railed against microblogging on numerous occasions, both online and off. But it's for networking and other career-related thingamabobs ... don't judge me. Also, don't Follow me. Unless you care about genetics and health care (which you should!).

Have you heard...

2010-04-01T08:55:00.002-04:00

Sorry for not blogging in so long! As you know, I've been going through some tough times lately. I really needed to take a step back and re-evaluate my life. But something wonderful emerged from this time of turmoil ... I discovered The Secret.

This book changed my life. It revealed to me the true power of positive thought - and the true consequences of negative thoughts. I realized that by thinking about all my problems, I was attracting negative energy towards myself. Every roadblock in my way, every disappointment I faced, every difficulty real or imagined, were all down to me worrying about my life. Now, with the power of The Secret on my side, I feel like I can demand anything from the Universe - anything at all! - and my demand will be instantaneously fulfilled.

But it's hard work to send out positive energy all day long. That's why I decided to hire a Secret Life Coach. Sure, the sessions are expensive - but wouldn't you be willing to pay $50 an hour to get everything you ever wanted? It's a bargain at twice the price. My SLC, Lindsay, is certified in clinically proven methods invented by Rhonda Byrne herself - it says so right on her business cards!

The thing is, Lindsay tells me that The Secret is much more effective if you can share its beneficial effects with three to five friends. A small group can concentrate their energies and get better results from the Universe than a single person ever could alone. Lindsay's even willing to offer a special, introductory rate to all my friends and family - just $39.99 a session! You really can't afford to miss out on this deal ... click here for more information.

2010-03-07T22:23:00.001-05:00

My parents visited this weekend...

Me: I'm so stressed, I'm developing a facial tic.
Dad: Hey, I can see it!
Mom: Ha ha, look, it makes a little dimple!
Me: Urgh.

Thanks, friends

2010-03-02T08:45:00.001-05:00

It's only been a couple of days since Gilda died, and I can't help but feel a little weird for being so emotional. I used to think people who obsessed over their pets were a little wacky. Now, I completely get it. While I didn't see my pet as my child, as some people do, she was family. It's this feeling of intense loss that leads cat ladies everywhere to take Fluffy VII to the taxidermist. We don't want to let go.

On the positive side, my (human) friends and family have been amazingly supportive. Everyone has a story about a beloved pet who has passed, and no one lets me feel crazy for missing Gilda so much. This is immeasurably helpful - otherwise I'd be locked up in my own neurotic head space, feeling alternatively stupid for caring and guilty for feeling stupid.

Today I even started singing again, which is a sure-fire indicator that the very worst of my emotional turmoil has passed. I'm not a good singer, but singing makes me happy (and vice versa). Of course, it reminded me of how I used to sing to Gilda. I'd always put her in the lyrics, like: "My Bunny Valentine" and "Hey, There, My Gilda." She would look up at me, nose twitching, with an expression that clearly said: 'What is that noise? Are you injured?'

*sigh* Good times, little bunny friend. Good times.

Goodnight, Gil. I love you.

2010-02-28T08:31:00.004-05:00

Sad news, friends. Gilda died yesterday.

I don't know how to tell people this without being dramatic. I thought about writing a mass email, but I just couldn't face it. Yesterday, I woke up to Gilda making a strange coughing noise. I rushed to her side, but I could tell it was already too late. I begged her not to go and took her body to the emergency vet, but all they could do was confirm what I already knew - Gilda was gone.

Everyone at the vet's office was extremely kind - they let me take my time sobbing, and brought her in one last time so I could say goodbye. "They're very affectionate," the receptionist said, trying to console me. "I have a couple rabbits at home."

I wanted to say, no she wasn't. My Gilda was a snarly little misanthrope. If anyone tried to pet her, she would dart to the furthest corner of her cage. If you got in her face, she'd thump her legs and grunt angrily. When she met my friend's yorkie puppy, she charged at him (thank goodness he was outside of her pen). Once, she bit my mother so hard it drew blood.

But when I had a bad day, she'd let me pick her up and stroke her beautiful, soft fur. She'd sniff around my face, tickling me with her little whiskers. I didn't even mind the way she'd scratch and nibble at my shirt, because I knew that was her way of saying, 'this is mine.' And when she was dying, instead of retreating to her favorite corner, she came and lay down at the edge of her pen closest to my bed.

She was way too young to die. I wanted ten years with her, instead of the less than two we actually got. But I know she is one with brahman now, so she will always be with me. And I sincerely hope that I meet Gilda again, in her next life. I expect I'll know her by the way she glares.

Bye, Gilda. Be good!

Snow Woes

2010-02-16T08:17:00.000-05:00

You'd think that DC being buried in snow and almost an entire week off of work would inspire me to blog more. Hahahaha, you'd be wrong. I spent "SNOMG" (aka Snowmageddon, aka The Snowpocalypse) holed up with ~~my manga~~ a good book. Per usual when my life isn't all sunshine and daisies, I didn't really feel like blogging. The sad fact is that, while I was meant to start in an office on Capitol Hill last month, I couldn't find a position. There are many reasons, but I've mostly been working on not attributing this to me being a total failure. Yeah, that didn't work so well for me at first.

But now I've left NIH and am working at the professional organization that co-sponsors my fellowship. That is to say, I'm doing my 3rd rotation now while still trying to line up something for Capitol Hill. Stress? You bet. But at least it's a change of pace. As much as I loved NIH, I'd wrapped up my major projects there. And there's tons of work to do here, so I'm happy. Silver lining of the snowstorm - having the campus closed for three workdays made my first "week" here a breeze.

So think good thoughts for me, my little chickadees. I'm off to work.

MUST WATCH

2010-02-12T16:04:00.004-05:00

... for all alums of "The" College

Thanks to Anderson for sharing the link.

Good times with my Indian Friends

2010-01-25T08:16:00.001-05:00

Recently, it was Restaurant Week here in DC. Accordingly, I made dinner plans with my two ~~token~~ Indian Friends D and P. The problem with making plans with Indian people, in my experience, is that we suck at it. Give us a date, time and place to show up and we'll be there - at least 30 minutes late, but we'll be there. Try to get us involved in the planning process is like herding cats (or, as I noted previously, like trying to eat Jell-o with a fork).

D's work schedule is crazy, so she wanted to meet at the ungodly hour of 5:30. I wanted to call every damn place on the list to try to make reservations, convinced that we'd never get a table. We were saved entirely by the fact that, against all odds, P actually has her shit together. She handled the reservations, and that Thursday found us supping at Notti Bianche (or as D called it, Naughty Bi-atch).

I had the bagna caoda, the organic baby lettuce salad, the apple and sausage stuffed porchetta, and we shared the three desserts. All were delicious but very rich. I feel like an old lady saying that ... like, as my palate matures so does my intestinal tract. Sorry - TMI? Anyway, the food is not the important part - we had lots of fun, chatting about all kinds of things that only an Indian Friend would understand. Our successful siblings, prideful papas, and marriage-minded moms all made for conversation more satisfying than even the torta di cioccolata.

So, thanks ladies! We will have to get together again soon :)

--

Feeling left out because you don't have an Indian Friend? Don't despair! (Warning: NSFW)

Security guards actually make me feel less secure

2010-01-22T13:14:00.001-05:00

As many of you know, today is the 37th anniversary of Roe v. Wade. I was coming back from a meeting downtown around lunch time today, so I was present to witness the locust-storm of March for Life demonstrators filling Metro Center station. I should also mention that pro-choice groups gathered at the Supreme Court building around the same time. Many others have covered and will cover this fascinating application of free speech and the right to assemble. I would like, as I often do, to dwell on a tiny insignificant detail that may or may not have anything to do with the issue at hand.

There were security guards at the metro today. Tall men with badges and stern faces always pique my interest. So I went up to one of these gentlemen with a genial smile and a simple question,

"Excuse me... why are you all here?"

"Visibility," came the terse reply. Off my expression of pure huh?, he elaborated. "We're checking the track. That's all."

I looked at his cohort on the other side of the platform, who was staring unblinkingly at the gathering crowd of sign-wavers, and said, "Ah, okay. Thanks!"

Protests are a dime a dozen here in DC. Makes sense, being the nation's capital and all. But this particular issue is so contentious, and the current political environment so volatile, that apparently the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority doesn't think we can be trusted to behave ourselves.

That's a bit too far, I thought to myself as I walked away from the nice intimidating man. Then I saw a girl with a bumper sticker attached to her forehead that read "Abortion is NOT Healthcare." It was all I could do not to rip the damn thing off, eyebrows be damned. And suddenly I realized ... Oh, hell. We can't be trusted.

So good luck today, everyone (on both sides). While I may or may not share your views, I support your right to express them... calmly and, if at all possible, rationally. And to the WMATA security guards (and the DC police, and anyone else charged with keeping the peace) - I hope this event turns out to be entirely uneventful.

Erin & Eric, hail!

2010-01-20T12:20:00.005-05:00

Last weekend I had the distinct pleasure of attending my freshman roommate's third wedding ceremony. Despite the disappointing fact that all three of her marriages have been to the same man (civil and church in California, where they reside, as well as this informal do in Virginia for her family and friends), a good time was had by all. And by 'all,' I mean me. Who cares about those other bitches?

First, I met up with my freshman hall mates, aka the Goochies, to decide what we were going to do for the talent show. Did I mention the word informal, yet? We had planned to do a skit and/or interpretive dance to Journey's "Don't Stop Believing." Then we realized we didn't want to make total asses of ourselves (turns out we needn't have worried - there were two other dance numbers in the show, both with a distinct emphasis on cross-dressing). Rachel's husband Zak proposed we re-do the lyrics to "Our Alma Mater." Here's a taste of what we came up with:

Hark the Goochies' voices swelling,
Strong and true and clear.
Erin & Eric's love they're telling,
Ringing far and near!

Erin & Eric! Love so new,
Hark upon the gale.
Hear the thunder of our chorus,
Erin & Eric, hail!

Awe-inspiring, is it not? We even got the audience to join in on the last chorus, in the traditional W&M style (that is to say, they shouted the names and mumbled their way through the rest of the lyrics). After crafting this masterwork, we split up to get ready for the wedding. For Ashlea, Rachel, Kristy, Zak and Frank this meant donning their wedding frippery. As for Jojo, Kristin, Shawn and myself, we went out for ice cream.

Finally, time for the main event was nigh. Erin had asked me to bring props for a silly picture booth (informal), so I was lugging around a duffel bag full of junk. It amuses me that my old Halloween costumes and such will end up in Erin's wedding album. Once I had set up the props, I shimmied into my chudithar kurtha - so useful on such occasions, since it looks incredibly fancy but is actually as comfortable as a pair of pyjamas - and joined back up with J, K, & S.

The ceremony started with remarks from a couple minister friends of Erin's (she herself is a minister and Eric does something or another with humanitarian aid - they're both so wonderful, could you just vomit?), followed by traditional vows. Then, they invited their guests to participate in a variation of a Scottish (?) hand-fasting. Instead of the ministers tying their stoles around the couple's joined hands, each guest was invited to tie a small ribbon (informal). Most disagreeably, Erin would not allow me to tie their free hands together with my ribbon. I contented myself with a tricky knot that captured their thumbs. Eric later consoled me by saying that was quite the most difficult one to get off.

Me: Eric, I have something very important to tell you ... Tonight is your wedding night. And you have your duties.
Eric (without missing a beat): You know what they say about Greek women - they are lambs in the kitchen, but tigers in the bedroom!
Me: Well played, sir. Well played.

For dinner we enjoyed a simple, hearty meal of shepherd's pie (one vegetarian and the other filled with blasphemy ... I mean, beef). Erin & Eric came over to regale us with their difficulties getting their names changed - instead of her taking his name or vice versa, they decided on a portmanteau (informal ... no wait, just quirky). Long story short, they got the name they wanted but have been politely asked never to visit the county office again.

After dinner was the talent show, then the room was cleared and we danced the night away. At least, until about 10pm when the couple made their exit. I packed up my bag of props, grabbed my party favor (A bag of granola, Erin? Really?), and drove home. There is usually a big let-down following a wedding, but this one was just too delightful and odd to leave one with anything but amused bafflement and the final impression, they looked so happy.

Happy New Year!

2010-01-04T11:44:00.004-05:00

As you can probably appreciate, December was not a good month for blog entries. My usual birthday-blues dovetailed nicely into holiday madness, with additional fellowship-related stress. Argh! Anyway, things have settled down a bit (or am I just resigned to my fate?), so here I am to ring in the new decade with a recap of 2009. Hold on to your keyboards, this ought to be good.

I started the year working in the same job I got right out of grad school. It had it's ups (my colleague FV and my awesome patients) and it's downs (pretty much everything else). I was definitely ready for a change, so I applied for and got my current fellowship in DC.

This has been a dream of mine since grad school, so I was super excited. But I was also nervous about the big transition. Happily, Gilda and I managed our move to DC with only a few minor disasters - going from a two-bedroom condo to a studio apartment took some serious downsizing. My family was amazing, helping me pack and taking a lot of my crap back to Castle Sri with them. Thanks Mom, Dad, and Monster - I couldn't have done it without you!

The fellowship so far has been good. I got to go to Hawaii for a work conference, so already it's been well worth the effort ;-) Right now I'm still working in public policy at an institute within the NIH, but my next move is to find a spot on Capitol Hill. Easier said than done, I assure you! But I am determined remain optimistic (because the alternative is curling up into a little ball under my desk and refusing to come out). Pray for me, friends!

On a more personal note, I love living in DC. So many of my friends from undergrad live in DC or NoVA, it's like being back at W&M again. I've gone native, exchanging my beloved Corolla, Sheldon, for a metro SmarTrip pass. This makes visiting home a bit more difficult, but my family has been great about visiting me in DC. We spent Xmas here - went to a museum, saw a movie, did some shopping, etc.

Those are the broad strokes, as I see them. It's been a good year - I'm definitely happier! Here's a little preview of what (I hope) will go down in 2010:
1. Finding a spot on Capitol Hill
2. Going to Atlantic City for Maggie's birthday
3. Finishing up my certificate program in NY
4. Refinancing my condo in C'ville
5. World peace (hey, a girl can dream)

2009-12-28T10:37:00.001-05:00

Had to delete one of the previous videos, due to a broken link. To make up for it, I bring you a Bollywood Christmas Song (from Nickelodeon).

Crazy Songs/Current Obsessions

2009-12-18T12:01:00.007-05:00

1. Das Racist: "Chicken and Meat"

2. Gogol Bordello: "American Wedding"
[redacted, due to broken link]

3. Brandon Walker: "Chinese Food on Christmas"

That last one doesn't quite qualify as "crazy," but I couldn't leave the list at just two :-P Enjoy!

Phoenixes and Ebirts and Bears, Oh My!

2009-12-09T11:32:00.011-05:00

My thoughts on mascots...

Once a year, my high school would host a Spirit Week. If you dressed up you could earn points for your class, and the class with the most points won a prize. Because our team was known as The Indians, one day in Spirit Week was supposed to be for Cowboys and Indians. During my Junior and Senior years, a friend and I wore traditional Asian Indian clothes. I wasn't particularly militant about the issue of our team name/mascot (though I did try to claim the points). I just wanted to give people a little dose of awareness. Later, a group of activists successfully petitioned the school board for a name change. My former school's team is now the Bruins.

Which, to me? Significantly more terrifying.

Funnily enough, I went to college at William and Mary - The Tribe. Their mascot used to be an Indian, which was especially bothersome since the Brafferton building used to house an "Indian School." There, young boys were kept, often against their will, in order to teach them how to be more like white people. Yikes. So in the late 70's-early 80's the giant foam "Indian" head was phased out, leaving the college mascot-less. For a while we had Colonel Ebirt (that's Tribe spelled backwards). He was a green blobby thing in a tri-corner hat. A history of the mascot can be found here.

Once, the guy who played Colonel Ebirt tried to use the fact he was our mascot as a line to pick up my roommate. Yeah, that didn't work out so well for him.

Now W&M has embarked on a search for a new mascot. Suggestions include the Griffin, King William and Queen Mary, the Pug, the Wren, and my personal favorite, the Phoenix. I think this is a reference to the fact that the oldest building on campus (the Wren building, named after Sir Christopher Wren) keeps burning down. And we just keep... building it back up. Hmmm. Maybe that's not such a great connection to be making. Maggie Cats tells me that there was a campaign to adopt the Phoenix as or mascot a while back, but it was shot down by student opposition. But it makes me think of Fawkes in Harry Potter, which makes me smile.

I can see him now, soaring above the stadium, shedding life-giving tears on our football team. And then saving us all from the Basilisk.

Um. Wow.

2009-11-25T09:16:00.002-05:00

Dana Perino thinks... No Terrorists Attacked America On Bush's Watch. In an interview about the Fort Hood shootings, the former Press Secretary had this to say:

We did not have a terrorist attack on our country during president Bush's term. I hope they're not looking at this politically. I do think that we owe it to the American people to call it what it is.

And of course, no one corrected or challenged her ... cause she was on Fox News. This is Republican Revisionism at it's finest, people! Get it while it's un-freaking-believable. President Obama may want to reconsider that job offer he made her last week.

My new life's ambition

2009-11-20T08:44:00.003-05:00

... is to eat Linda Holmes' brain. I will then be able to write the hilarious Monkey See blog for NPR. Plus, I will have effectively eliminated my major competition in the field of monkey-obsessed pop-culture commentators. Behold, my nemesis' brilliant work:

Oprah's Long, Long, Long Goodbye.

In 25 years of The Oprah Winfrey Show, there is no emotion that has not been taken out and examined, fondled and caressed, inspected and X-rayed. Oprah celebrates happiness. And sadness. And pain. And fear. And fearlessness. And possibly vertigo and nausea. The Oprah Winfrey Show is where veins are opened.
Into this environment, we now introduce a goodbye that will last for two years.

For all you Oprah devotees out there - I'm sure she would have something to say here about the importance of not taking yourself too seriously. Besides, you'll always be OWN'ed by the Oprah Winfrey Network, coming soon to a cable box near you.

--

And for those who are wondering, I picked my blogging name (Monkey Sri) before I had even heard about Holmes' blog (Monkey See). Pure coincidence. Besides, her first post (on the NPR site, at least) was in August 2008 and I've been blogging under this nom de blog since May 2007.

2009-11-18T11:23:00.006-05:00

I do try to live a virtuous life, free from the influence of intoxicating substances and mad scientists. How is it then, dear readers, that I find myself at yet another work conference? Much less at one that features the work of post-docs, or as like to call them, The Young People. During the day, The Young People presented their innovative research and stood smiling beside posters covered with diagrams of genetic pathways. At night, The Young People drained the hotel-provided cash bar and crowded the dance floor with their exuberant move-busting. As Detective Roger Murtaugh would say, I'm gettin' too old for this shit.

And that's not to mention the Talent Show, where even us old fogies got involved in poking ribald fun at our science and at each other. Skits in the show featured everything from an homage to Survivor to the full Thriller dance. For my part, I did a passable Kanye West impression ... but perhaps the less said there, the better. The funniest sketch, however, was one on how to deal with colleagues going through menopause, complete with haikus.

change the thermostat?
"go ahead, if you are cold"
pull back bloody stump

I was vaguely horrified, however, when I realized that someone's 8 year-old daughter in the audience. Not only was she exposed to off-color comedy and cursing (not from the menopausal ladies, but still), she is going to have a completely skewed view of appropriate behavior at work. She's going to burst in on her first day wearing a green wig, doing the chicken dance and asking "hey, how do you figure out if your girlfriend is ticklish?!?" You know - just like her father.

That pretty much sums it up.

2009-11-18T11:15:00.004-05:00

Buzzwords: number of papers published per year with the corresponding word in its title.
Adapted (read: stolen and messed with) from one of my favorite webcomics, Piled Higher and Deeper.

Turkey Day II: The Revenging

2009-11-16T18:02:00.002-05:00

As with anything I have absolutely no knowledge about, I turned to Google for help in preparing the turkey. Apparently you're supposed to buy 3/4 lb turkey breast (or 1 lb whole turkey) per guest. But when I got to the store the 7.5 lb turkey I was supposed to buy looked rather wimpy. I went for an almost 9.5 lb turkey instead ('cause you can't have success without excess). The next day, I rose at the crack of midmorning so I could have the bird ready by the early afternoon, when my guests were due to arrive. Then, I read the instructions: "Brush with oil or butter and season. Place on wire rack in roasting pan..."

Simple enough, right? Only I didn't have a brush, seasoning, or a wire rack. Oops. I tried rubbing the turkey down with vegetable oil, but I accidentally poured too much into my hand. I panicked and dumped it all on the turkey, drenching it. Not an auspicious beginning. I tried to remove some of the oil, but I only succeeded in further molesting the poor bird. Then I dug through my cabinets and found a chipotle rub that had served me well in the past. Sprinkled that on, and the turkey had turned a lovely light orange color. Faaaan-tastic. As for the pan, I improvised. Perhaps the less said about that, the better.

It was with some trepidation that I put the turkey in the oven at 10 o'clock. It was supposed to need 3 hours to cook, but when I checked it at noon, the little timer had popped out! I turned off the oven and Googled, "how to keep a turkey warm for two hours without drying it to the point of unrecognizability." I got a surprising number of hits. I ended up basting it and leaving it in oven. My friend Rachel was bringing the sweet potatoes, and would need the oven to melt the marshmallow topping (*drool*). I figured we could warm everything up at once, so I tossed the mashed potatoes in there as well.

Once most of the guests had arrived, it was time to heat up the food. I moved the top rack down to accommodate Rachel's casserole dish. Little did I realize, the rack was now sitting directly on top of the turkey. Pressing on the top of the turkey, as it turned out. So much so that when I tried to slide out the bottom rack to retrieve said turkey, only the pan moved. The turkey, perched precariously on my makeshift rack, almost fell out into the oven. In my haste to correct this situation, I jostled the bowl of potatoes and it actually fell out into the oven.

And now I was in a blind panic. Rachel and I yanked her casserole dish out and plonked it on the stove. I then shifted the top rack out of the way, hollering at Doug (who was closest) to move my dish drying rack out of the way. I quickly extracted the turkey from the oven, almost dropping it no fewer than three times. As soon as I got the turkey on the counter top, I whirled back to check the potatoes. Luckily, they hadn't spilled - which was probably more due to their consistency than their flimsy tin foil covering. Final score Sri: 1, malicious Thanksgiving foodstuffs: 0.

Happily, the turkey turned out well. The extra oil made the skin nice a crispy, and it was moist and delicious all the way through. Mmmmmmm. And unlike my family Thanksgiving where we end up with a freezerful of turkey meat, I had only one container of leftovers. Now all I have to do is figure out a way to use the "ruined" cranberry sauce (how I was I to know you were supposed to slice the gelatinous cylinder, instead of just mixing the hell out of the thing?) and I'll be all set!

Thanks to Maggie, Rachel, Doug, Lisa, Amanda, Jays, Susan and Patrick for enabling this mad experiment. And for bringing side dishes. Same time next year?

Say it right - it's CHOW-DAH!

2009-11-16T07:22:00.003-05:00

There are so many things I love about fall, especially fall in Virginia. The temperature ranges from Just Right to Sweater Weather. When I was a young nerdling, fall meant the start of school - for someone as scholastically oriented as myself, it was more energizing than New Years. Fall means that my birthday and other winter holidays are right around the corner. And of course, there are the leaves. I think Eddie from Ohio said it best in their song, Old Dominion:

You think that autumns in New England
Are the greatest of them all,
But give me sweet Virginia
For the fireworks of fall!
The prettiest October
In all the 50 states.
Just drive up to the skyline,
Park the car and wait.

But my favorite thing about fall is Thanksgiving. That most American holidays, celebrating the original immigrants, the Pilgrims, being welcomed to the New World by the noble American Indians ... who they would later persecute to near-extinction. Heh heh ... aaaanyway. The food's good. So this year, in anticipation of Thanksgiving at my parent's house, I decided to have some friends over for a full Turkey dinner at my place. Long-time fans of this blog are cringing, and possibly remembering several occasions when I almost set my house on fire. No to worry, my little chickadees. I had everything under control ... mostly.

The thing you should know about me and traditional American food is that I have received almost no formal training in preparing it. I took Home-Ec in sixth grade, but all I learned from that was how to stitch together a stuffed animal when presented with a kit and which fork to use at a fancy dinner. Of course, I promptly forgot these skills, as those situations never came up again. My mom and I make Thanksgiving dinner at home, but she handles all the hard parts - I do things like handing her things from high shelves and making the stuffing from a box.

Therefore, I felt no compunction in purchasing a box of stuffing, potato flakes and cans of gravy. Steamed some frozen veggies and got someone to bring rolls and dessert, and I was basically done. Except for the small detail of main dishes - specifically, the turkey itself and a vegetarian option (I went for corn chowder). For the chowder, I found a nice kosher recipe and made it the previous day. For the turkey ... oh, the turkey.

To be continued...

Fan Mail! Well, kinda.

2009-11-10T17:44:00.000-05:00

Below is an email I received, out of the blue, from my freshman roommate.

dear Sri,

You are a nerd. One who I love and with whom I enjoy spending time, but a nerd regardless. Just wanted to remind you of both.

Now is your opportunity to respond with a bout of wit and pissandvinegar, as you are wont to do.

Not one to leave such a challenge unanswered, I shot back this reply.

You know what? I am a nerd. I read comics and comic books (and know the difference), play video games, and am the Dungeon Master of my D&D group. But in five years all you hipsters will be pretending to enjoy these things ironically. Cause guess what, baby? Nerd is the new black.

Live Long and Prosper,
Sri

P.S. I love you, too.

On your mark, get set, ... POSE!

2009-11-06T07:54:00.000-05:00

Last week, my friend Amanda and I went out to a drag race in the heart of DC. Except, not so much like 2 Fast, 2 Furious. Think more ... To Wong Foo.

Yes, I was at the annual Dupont Circle High Heel Race, meeting some of the most impressive drag queens I've ever seen. There were at least two Cruella de Vils, three Octomoms, a herd of Toddlers in Tiaras, and at least two Michael Jacksons. Side note: I know his movie came out yesterday, but it felt a little soon. I even saw an impressive Kali... it felt a touch blasphemous. But considering some of the slokas I've heard written for her, the Goddess probably finds this sort of thing amusing.

We'll know for sure if this guy wakes up covered in boils.

The event was surprisingly political. Someone was handing out "Marriage Equality NOW!" stickers. A candidate for DC Council, Clark Ray, was working the crowd and having his volunteers slap stickers on anyone standing still long enough. Mayor Fenty even made an appearance close to race time.

And of course, a number of contestants had their own agendas.

The best part was the actual race, when something like 100 drag queens tear down 17th street at full speed. We were standing close to the starting line, so we got to see the contestants at their most energetic. Considering the shoes they were wearing, and the fact they had been "working the runway" for two hours already, I wondered if any of them would run at all. But run they did, with much enthusiasm and loss of jewelry. It was a sight to behold - definitely a must-see for anyone in the DC area. It's always on the Tuesday before Halloween. Mark your calendars!

So very, very wrong

2009-11-05T07:39:00.001-05:00

Thanks to Emily for sharing a link to what promises to be a truly edifying conference, titled simply Darwin was Wrong. Here's a quote from the brochure:

While Darwin was right about the ability of populations to adapt in a limited way to changed environmental conditions, he was profoundly wrong on key scientific issues including: the very nature of science itself; the geological time scale; the incompleteness of the fossil record; the complexity of life; the limits of natural selection; the tree of life; race; and the origin of human beings. More importantly, Darwin was wrong about the disastrous social and moral consequences of his ideas. Lastly, but most importantly, Darwin was wrong about God.

Let's set aside the fact that they're willing to throw empiricism out the window so that their "scientific" beliefs will conform to their religious ideologies. The most ridiculous statement in this series of ridiculous statements is the last one - Darwin was wrong about God. This implies that the writer knows the truth, and isn't the Christian God (and many of the gods in other religions) unknowable? And if god is unknowable, how do we know he/she/it exists at all? The answer is - we don't. That's why it's called faith.

Costumes

2009-11-04T08:05:00.002-05:00

When I was walking home on November 1, I saw that neighborhood stores had already put up Christmas decorations. This made me sad - Fall is my favorite season, and I'm not quite ready to give up Halloween and Thanksgiving yet. Thankfully, a number of my friends have indulged my little whim by sharing Fall-themed costume pics. Enjoy!

Halloween with Harp Lady. Pretty self-explanatory.

Pumpkin time with Fiona, my friend Kara's new dog.

Baby Turkey Face! Quote from her mom, Alli,
"Doesn't she look scrumptious?"

Ah, now I feel better. Thanks to everyone who agreed to share pics!

2009-11-03T17:35:00.001-05:00

There are three kinds of people exiting the Metro. Those that ride the escalators up and down, those that ride up and walk down, and those that walk both ways. I'm firmly in the second category, as it seems the most efficient use of both my time and energy.

But this morning I ran into an acquaintance who is, apparently, a walker. I was engrossed in trying to make appropriate small talk as we approached the escalators, and neglected stake out a spot on the right side (where people usually ride to the top). Before I knew what was happening he was three steps up on the left side, looking over his shoulder expectantly. I had two choices: (a) be lazy/rude and ride to the top alone or (b) drag my fat ass up a contraption that had been designed specifically to prevent such a spectacle.

God forbid I should be rude.

Spoiler alert - I survived. I reached the top, panting as if I'd run a mile and sweating profusely. My acquaintance looked at me askance, as he was not even breathing heavily. Smug, physically fit so-and-so. *shakes fit* Still it was an eye-opener. I need to work out ... just not on a Stairmaster.

Worst. Hindu. Ever.

2009-10-31T13:33:00.007-04:00

Two weeks ago was Diwali, the Hindu festival of lights. It's kind of a big deal, since it's one of the few festivals that most Hindus celebrate - and thus, one of the few that have made it across the pond to become a part of American Hindu traditions. Of course, I didn't even know it was coming until a couple of days before, when my friend Davina mentioned it. Stupid lunar calendar, always messing me up. In my defense, I did call home.

Me: Happy Diwali (or Deepavali, if you prefer)!
Mom: Happy Diwali, Kutty! Did you do pooja?
Me: Well, no.
Mom: Did you light a lamp?
Me: Um...
Mom: At least do something!
Me: I'm actually on my way to a friend's house. How about I light something on fire there?
Mom: *displeased silence*
Me: Heh. Gotta go.

And as it turns out, even President Obama celebrated Diwali (OMG SECRET HINDU!).

Was this a foolish political move, sure to alienate his key constituents? Hardly. Check out this Newsweek article: We Are All Hindus Now. Based on academic analysis and survey data, it seems that more Americans are subscribing to Hindu beliefs ... though they probably don't know it.

This makes perfect sense to me. "Hinduism" is just that - an "ism" artificially created to encompass a group of people holding widely divergent beliefs. There are tensions and disagreements and feuds, but for the most part Hindus acknowledge that there are many spiritual truths. What could be more egalitarian, more American, than this individualized approach to faith?

I'm sure President Obama didn't put this kind of thought into his Diwali message. He was probably trying to be nice, or politically correct, or both. It just makes me feel good when my faith can take center stage, instead of being marginalized or forgotten. Even if I am the worst Hindu ever.

And by "fun" I mean...

2009-10-26T07:16:00.001-04:00

While in Hawaii, I did two things purely for fun. I went to the Waikiki Aquarium and the Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor. This is my idea of a good time: educational activities and solemn remembrance. In my defense, I didn't have a lot of time away from the conference. And since I didn't have a rental car I had to walk/bus it everywhere. So the Great Public Transportation Experiment continued even in Waikiki.

A word on the Hawaii bus system - it's awesome. There are tons of routes, so you never have to wait very long for a bus. Automatic overhead announcements give you the cross streets and major landmarks. And the drivers (like pretty much everyone I met in Waikiki) are super friendly. You know hapless tourists are pestering them with questions 24/7, but they patiently answer with a smile and a cheerful "mahalo!"

So it was no problem for me and Baby Genius to catch a bus to the aquarium. I suggested (read: demanded) that we go there, since I love aquariums. Sea creatures are so beautiful and serene. Also, I have this idea that fish don't really know they're in captivity, which makes going to an aquarium much more enjoyable than going to the zoo. The Waikiki Aquarium is smallish, but they had some cool exhibits. These included the oldest giant clam known to man and a couple of adorable seals.

These clams were as big as your face ... but they are tiny compared to the real deal.

Cuteness... overload... I'll have to finish with my account of the USS Arizona in another post.

Aloha, bitches!

2009-10-23T14:00:00.004-04:00

Several of my fangirls have been asking me, 'Why so little posting, Sri? You know that they're the only reason I get up in the morning! Are you trying to send me into a spiraling depression from which I will never recover?' Well, the reason for the blog silence is that I am in Hawaii right now, at a work conference.

The conference tag line: "Superlative science, sensational setting." Word.

No, really. I'm hard at work ... um, networking and such. I am definitely not overindulging on complimentary drinks and instigating impromptu karaoke at local bars. There was no flashback to a certain incident involving the Pacific Ocean at the conference in Los Angeles. Nor am I participating in shenanigans at the exhibit booth or skipping important presentations to lie out on the beach, working on my tan. *shifty eyes*

You can't prove that any of these people are me.

This is my first time at the this organization's meeting, and so far I've liked it. There are definitely topics that have gone over my head, and others that have completely blown my mind. There were talks on an amazingly elegant method of gene discovery, proposed treatments for Mendelian conditions, and new insights into the regulation of transcription. And that was all presented in one session.

But you don't care about any of that. You want to hear about Hawaii. But besides a couple of visits to the beach and dinner/drinks at nice restaurants, I haven't really done anything purely for fun. And I'm fine with that, for the most part. I'm here to (a) go to a conference, (b) hang out with people I don't usually see (i.e. my classmates), and (c) bond with people from work. Laura (aka Baby Genius) and I may skip the poster sessions today, though, and check out the art museum or the aquarium. Further updates as events warrant!

Blog Action Day 2009

2009-10-15T11:10:00.005-04:00

The topic of this year's Blog Action Day is climate change. I'm not about to go all EPA on you ... if you're reading this, you're probably a hippie-liberal like myself and are totally on board with the whole We're Suffocating Mother Earth in Greenhouse Gases thing. The question remains, "what can I do about it?" P.S. The EPA's children's site is much more my speed, sad to say.

For a while now all the cool kids have been talking about "reducing your carbon footprint." And when I lived in C'ville, I knew I was not doing so well with that. I would routinely drive to visit my family (300 miles round trip) or my friends (200 miles round trip) every other weekend. I drove to work, even though I lived within walking distance. I had moderate success with recycling, but I quickly lost interest in composting. I went on a number of international trips and flew domestically fairly often. The only reason I can write all this now is that I've changed/will be changing many of these things, and thus am not as shamed as I used to be.

So I figured my carbon footprint must be HUGE. Like, astronomical and offensive to god, right? For this year's Blog Action Day, I decided that confession is good for the soul. And so I give you, My Carbon Footprint (from the last three years).

Link: http://www.carbonfootprint.com/calculator.aspx

So I've clearly outstripped the world target by a factor of five - I was expecting that. What surprised me is that my footprint is HALF the national average. Sure, I didn't routinely burn enough coal to heat the neighborhood or use a rocket-pack to get to the grocery store, but seriously? That's kind of sad.

Clearly, the amount of traveling I was doing was a problem. Well, that's been taken care of - as my loyal readers will remember, I've sent Sheldon (my beloved Corolla) home with my parents. My dad usually drives him to work instead of his minivan (which is certainly less fuel efficient than Sheldon) - two birds, one stone! What I really need to work on, it seems, are all my "Secondary" issues. These are things like buying organic/local/seasonal foods and ... recreation? The one thing I don't like about this calculator is that it doesn't provide direct links with explanations. I know why I should take a walk rather than go to a restaurant in terms of my waistline, but I'm scratching my head as to what exactly that has to do with climate change.

I guess the moral of the story is that there are lots of things we can do, not all of which may be intuitive. For my part I will continue the Great Public Transportation Experiment, check out the year-round fresh food market for some grub, and maybe try to incorporate some "zero carbon activities" into my free time. What about you?

Down the rabbit hole

2009-10-13T09:42:00.005-04:00

Lately, Gilda has been acting out. She moves her litter pan around the cage (though she still uses it, thank god), tears up the drop cloth in her enclosure, and doesn't allow me to pick her up. I know that bunnies are not as affectionate as dogs, or even cats. But it's a tad depressing when you can't even pet your pet.

So when my parents came to pick her up last weekend, it should have been a big relief. I'm going to be out of town next week, and this was the most convenient time for them to come collect my little charge. Once we had moved her cage, I took the opportunity to sweep and mop her area. Now there's nothing but an empty corner where the little miscreant used to dwell.

I miss her so much.

When I get up in the morning I usually say, "Good morning, Gil." When I leave for the day, I admonish her to "Be good!" Sometimes, when I'm lying in bed at night, I tell her my troubles. Yes, I know it's insane to be talking to a rabbit. A rambunctious (dare I say, rascally?) rabbit, at that. But I can't wait for my parents to bring her back in two weeks, so I can hear that familiar scrabbling when I return from work and say, "I'm home."

Let's play a game!

2009-10-04T20:43:00.002-04:00

It's called, Why Is That In My Purse? I will list all the things (besides the boring stuff) that are currently in my purse (read: mondo tote bag) and let you guess why they're there. Ready? Okay!

- Veronica Mars, Season 3 box set
- Two bags of (un-popped) microwave popcorn: one Kettle Corn and one Extra Butter
- Frozen cupcake from Magnolia Bakery (in New York City)
- Three packs of playing cards
- Bottle of rum (unopened)
- Two CDs: The Best of Gladys Knight and the Pips and Pickin' on The Beatles (bluegrass covers of classic Beatles' songs)
- From Eroica with Love, a manga by Yasuko Aoike, Volume 9

Here's the kicker: none of these things were in my bag yesterday. Anyone who can come up with a reasonable explanation will get a prize. Anyone who can come up with a ridiculous explanation gets two prizes. Happy speculating!

2009-09-29T09:00:00.003-04:00

Okay, this blog is quickly devolving into a list of links. But I couldn't pass this one by: Kashmir girl overpowers militants. Apparently, a militant from the Lashkar-e-Taiba group had his sights set on marrying Rukhsana Kauser ... whether she liked it or not. Here's what Wikipedia has to say about this particular group: "members have carried out major attacks against India and its objective is to introduce an Islamic state in South Asia and to "liberate" Muslims residing in Indian-administered Kashmir." So Kauser's "suitor" and half a dozen other militants descended on her home - three entered and savagely beat her parents and uncle. Kauser's reaction?

"I could not see that and pounced on one of the militants while my brother hit him with an axe," she said. "I thought I should try the bold act of encountering militants before dying."

She and her brother disarmed two of the militants and opened fire on them with their own guns. They killed one militant (the commander, apparently) and wounded two others. But here's the really crazy part - BBC reports that the exchange of gunfire went on for four hours. In America, we'd be saying 'where the hell were the cops?' Local police departments would be scrambling, issuing apologies and promising to do better. The mayor, the governor, someone would point at this incident as evidence of a broken system. In Kashmir, the local superintendent "praised what he said was the "exemplary bravery" of Ms Kauser and her brother."

Is that it? Are they not even pretending to hold themselves accountable for keeping Kashmiri citizens safe? Maybe there was more to the superintendent's statement. I really hope this is an oversight by the reporter of the story. Though, I tend to trust BBC, and I haven't seen any statements of contrition in other articles I've skimmed.

Is this the Onion?

2009-09-26T13:17:00.003-04:00

Cause I'm crying laughing.

Libya's Moammar Kadafi gives U.N. his opinions on Obama -- and more!

Exclamation point added by me ... but you know it was implied. Seriously, though, I love the LA Times. Here's a (verbatim!) quote from an interview with Courtney Cox about her new series, Cougar Town.

'...Cox has a terrible memory. Even about something extremely, um, memorable. "Did we get a million dollars an episode just for one year or two?"

She was asking the question over a recent steak dinner when the subject of the final season of "Friends" came up, during which all six lead cast members were paid exorbitant salaries.

Then, with half-feigned marvel in her voice: "Isn't that amazing? A million dollars an episode! What did I do with that money?"'

Well done, LA Times. Well done.

Physicians, heal thyselves ... and the world

2009-09-25T09:33:00.003-04:00

Hello, my little chickadees. I'm up in New York this week, at my public health certificate program (Oh, yes - there are many layers to the Sri Onion). Anyway, one of the speakers mentioned an organization called Physicians for Human Rights. Intrigued, I went to their web page (http://physiciansforhumanrights.org). They are a group dedicated to investigating the health consequences of human rights violations and put a stop to them. The featured story when I went to their site: CIA Health Professionals’ Role in Torture Worse Than Previously Known.

Okay... worse? How could it get worse than that they had a role, even if it was just to sanction these violent acts?

"Medical doctors and psychologists colluded with the CIA to keep observational records about waterboarding, which approaches unethical and unlawful human experimentation," says PHR Medical Advisor and lead report author Scott Allen, MD

I got chills, reading this. But acknowledging these wrongs is the first step to try to right them. If you want to read the original white paper the article is based on, you can download it here: Aiding Torture: Health Professionals’ Ethics and Human Rights Violations Demonstrated in the May 2004 CIA Inspector General’s Report. Warning: not for the faint of heart, or the weak of stomach.

I’m a Terrible Person

2009-09-22T09:07:00.001-04:00

Yesterday I was waiting for the NIH shuttle next to a middle-aged man wearing a face mask. It’s nearing flu season, and with the buzz about H1N1 I didn’t think much about it. Then he asked me how to get to a certain building – I looked through the shuttle schedules, which are posted at the bus stop, and told him. We struck up a conversation about how difficult it can be for newbies to navigate public transportation, both on and off the NIH campus. Apparently, he had just flown in from California and had to use the metro/bus system to get here. This naturally led to me asking what brought him to Bethesda.

Him: I’m going to see an immunologist. I’m one of those bubble boys – that’s why I’m wearing the mask.
Me (assuming he was kidding): Heh heh.
Him (sadly): They just can’t figure out why I keep getting sick.
Me: ...

It’s not really news that, if Hell exists, Satan is keeping a seat nice and warm for me. Hearing this, he must have turned the thermometer up a notch. I laughed … at the Bubble Boy. *sigh*

Public Transportation

2009-09-18T09:14:00.002-04:00

Shortly after I moved to DC, I determined that I would not be able to keep my car. First of all, there were the various costs – insurance, parking, gas, etc. Add to that my complete lack of directional sense and the multitude of “roundabouts” here in the district, and you begin to see the problem. So I left Sheldon (yes, my car’s name is Sheldon) with my parents at Castle Sri and began the Great Public Transportation Experiment of 2009.

Every morning, I walk a couple blocks to the metro station. This necessitates wearing walking shoes and carrying my dress shoes in my purse. As this is a common practice among DC’s professional women, no one bats and eye. The metro takes me to the NIH campus, where I go through security and catch a shuttle to my building. At the end of the day I reverse the trip, and so far (knock on wood) I’ve managed this without incident.

Sometimes the train cars are crowded, and I hate touching strangers. I try to position myself so I won’t bump up against anyone, but it takes a lot of effort. And very time someone in my vicinity so much as sniffles, I think ‘omg, H1N1’ and start inching away. Sometimes the trains themselves are filthy, with gum and grime all over the floors. *shudder* I’m convinced I’m not alone in my revulsion. Just as no one is an atheist in the foxhole, everyone is a germaphobe on the metro.

At the end of the day, though, I like the idea of public transportation (even if I don’t necessarily enjoy the transportation itself). Seeing thirty people in a train car means that thirty cars were left in garages, parked on the street, or at someone’s parent’s house. Some were not purchased at all. Not to go all Martha Stewart on you, but it’s a good thing.

Cool stuff from work

2009-09-15T12:50:00.003-04:00

Have you heard about the Human Microbiome Project? Scientists took samples from various sites on the bodies of ten volunteers, in order to map the genomes of the bacteria and other microbes living on human skin. Initial studies have determined that microbiomes are a lot like real estate - the three more important factors are location, location, and location. In other words, the organisms residing in your armpit are more like the ones in your brother's armpit than on your own forearm, no matter how infrequently he showers. On one level - so cool! On another, it kind of makes me want to never touch skin (even my own) ever again.

Also, the Department of Health and Human Services is hosting a PSA Contest to spread the word about their H1N1 flu website, www.flu.gov. One of the most popular videos is the so-called "health hop" rap by Dr. John Clarke. Definitely worth a listen - and a vote! The public vote (which closes tomorrow at midnight) will determine which video will become at televised PSA and which contestant walks away with a whopping $2500 (hey, it's a recession).

That's all I have for now. Toodles, poodles!

2009-09-10T13:41:00.002-04:00

Why is it that I can spend all morning wading through budget reports dating back to 2003 with no one looking in on me, but the minute I take a break and start doing something asinine (like sorting M&M's by color before eating them in alphabetical order) my boss stops by to see if I've read the article for journal club?

Who are you and how did you get my email address?

2009-09-03T15:17:00.006-04:00

The original email...

My dear friends,

Hope you all are well and enjoying the end of summer weather.

I want to know what you think on various issues in "politics." We don't all think alike. With that given, let me know what you think about:

The National Civilian Security Force. I understand that it will be under job core and has 1/2 billion or is it trillian [sic] dollars to build it up. They will be as well trained as the military. Why does Pres. Obama need his army? I don't know. As you know our CIA agents are being questioned by the attorney general. But the attorney general did not care to look into the black panthers intimigating [sic] the voters. And what about the black man that came armed to a town hall meeting. The TV media reported it, but failed to mention or show his color. Why?

Let me know your thoughts on this subject.

If you want me to delete you from my contacts list I will.

Thanks, in His love, [name redacted]

My response...

Here is an article from factcheck.org that I think you might want to read: http://www.factcheck.org/askfactcheck/is_obama_planning_a_gestapo-like_civilian_national.html

Please delete me from your email list.

Thanks,
Sri

The final word...

I guess I'm not so trusting in governments as you are. You can check this out or not. You're deleted.

[name redacted]

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,543822,00.html

My question to you, [name redacted], is this: you don't trust the government, but you trust Fox News?

First Day

2009-09-01T16:11:00.003-04:00

Today I woke up at 6:20 (again - what the hell, circadian rhythm?!?) and wasn't able to get back to sleep. I puttered around my new apartment, trying to get by with whatever had been (a) packed in C'ville and (b) unpacked in DC. Last night I realized that I didn't bring any toothpaste, so I'm using mouthwash to brush my teeth. Stepping out the shower this morning, I realized I don't have any moisturizer. So I used hair conditioner... don't judge me. Leaving my apartment, I felt proud of my ingenuity (and, surprisingly enough, not at all sticky).

I should have realized that these were signs. My luck is strange - it never fails me for the big stuff, like getting this fellowship. Most of the other candidates (and all but one other fellow) have their PhDs, and are (one can only assume) not spastic nutcases. So why was I the chosen one? Pure luck, my friends. To balance out my good fortune, however, a thousand tiny frustrations will crop up when I least expect them.

1,000 tiny frustrations
a beat poem by Monkey Sri

first commute
hemline unravels
right pant cuff
falls falls falls
into the dirt of city streets
and urine, probably
clip it with a paperclip
doin' no good
at my destination, wrong destination
shoes not made for walking hike a mile
lost on the NIH campus
round and round and round and round
back to an empty office
no IT man, no security clearance
and there's nothing I can do
close my door
close my eyes
and rest

Last Day

2009-08-28T15:23:00.002-04:00

I'm sitting in my office with the door closed, my second piece of Going Away cake souring in my stomach. This was the cake I specifically requested be ordered from Maryland, a rich chocolate topped with a decadent caramel icing. Too rich and too decadent, as it turns out. I wish I had a toothbrush.

But even if I were that kind of slave to oral hygiene, I cleaned out my desk yesterday. There's nothing in these drawers except a couple of keys without locks, a spare computer cable or two, and dust. Lots of dust. The only thing left to do is box up my textbooks and clear the last few personal items off the top of my desk.

Here's my graduation picture, and a few candid photos of friends. The good highlighters that I brought from home, and my tiny mouse-shaped pencil sharpener. I'm pretty sure some of my personal contacts got mixed into my Rolodex, so I should probably fish those out. Two thank-you notes from patients. In the corner, some bottles and boxes for recycling. My file box of scientific articles. My diplomas on the wall, mustn't forget those.

This morning, I was elated. I woke up at 6:20 and couldn't get back to sleep, I was so excited. My last day. Sitting at my desk, doing whatever busy work my boss could find for me, I was dancing in my chair. Then my mom called me during my lunch break and said, "It is your last day! Think of all the things you've achieved over the past three years!"

This job... this job.

Only an hour and half left.

Brownies

2009-08-23T15:30:00.009-04:00

One of the best things about moving is that you have a valid excuse to use all the perishable items in your fridge and pantry. So today I decided to make brownies. Furthermore, I decided I was going to make delicious wine brownies, like the ones Jojo brought to our impromptu class reunion. Of course, she simply substituted wine for water (WWJD brownies, if you will) in a packaged brownie mix. I don't believe in using mixes unless circumstances are dire, so I figured I would improvise.

*cue ominous music*

First I started with this simple brownie recipe:

1/2 c. butter or oil
4 tbsp. cocoa or 2 sq. chocolate
1 c. sugar
2 eggs, well beaten
3/4 c. flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. vanilla
1 c. nuts, chopped

Mix all ingredients together. Spread in well greased pan. Bake a 350, 30-35 minutes. Let cool 10 minutes.

Already I'm excited because of the two-step instructions: mix, then bake. Except, nowhere is water mentioned in this recipe. How am I supposed to substitute wine for water if there isn't any water? Upon further consideration, several other problems make themselves apparent...

1. I don't have any unsweetened cocoa, only hot cocoa mix pouches. Gourmet hot cocoa mix pouches, but still.
2. After my dad's heart attack, the whole family switched from eggs (evil, cholesterol-filled sons of bitches) to egg-substitute products.
3. There isn't a drop of vanilla extract to be had in the apartment, and I'm sure as hell not going out to buy any for one batch of brownies.
4. My mounting frustration, evidenced by my increasingly colorful language. Dammit.

So ... I improvised further. Here's what I actually ended up using:

1/2 c. butter (melted from it's frozen state in an improvised double-boiler)
entire packet of gourmet "double dutch" hot cocoa mix (why not?)
3/4 c. sugar (cut back to compensate for sugar in hot cocoa mix)
2 egg-equivalent amount of egg substitute (shaking a carton is much easier than beating eggs, anyway)
almost 3/4 c. flour (ran out!)
a pinch of salt (since I used salted butter)
1/2 tsp. baking powder (...ish)
a generous dollop on hard cider

Wait a minute, you're thinking. Hard cider? I thought you were going to use wine!

Yes, yes. But for some reason (I blame nasty, devious, wine-stealing gnomes!) I have no open bottles of wine in my house. Or rather, open bottles of wine never last long in my house. Anyway, I splashed in some hard cider and then enjoyed the rest of the bottle while I waited for the brownies to bake (same temp/time as the original instructions). A win-win, if you ask me!

And here I am, sitting with the finished product. Here goes, fair readers.

*nom nom nom*

Not bad. The chocolate taste is muted, and there is the subtle flavor of cider without the alcoholic bite. And they're quite cakey, not really as dense as brownies usually are. Overall, though, quite delicious and a definite success. Now I just have to figure out how to use that box of sangria Liz brought me, and I'll be all set!

Has it really been five years?

2009-08-20T09:32:00.006-04:00

Last night, my freshman hall got together for an impromptu reunion. I immediately covered myself in glory by imbibing several glasses of wine. Happily, I was not alone in this, and soon we were merrily insulting each other and cackling evilly. Next came a retelling of embarrassing stories from our shared past, to everyone's ~~horror~~ delight. These included, but were not limited to:
- The time Kristy, Diana, and Rachel ran The Triathlon in a single night (see the W&M Wiki entry and scroll down to "Traditions")
- That Erin's only defense in a physical confrontation was to go limp ... at which point I would drag her bodily from our room and leave her in a heap in the middle of the hallway
- How even though Diana and Jojo disagreed vehemently on acceptable television and movies (with Diana expressing a strong dislike for all things Jane Austen), they could both come together to judge me for my love of Star Trek

It's strange to think that it's been five years since I was at the same school as these women, and almost a decade since we first met. I still remember being startled, upon being introduced to Erin, by her enthusiastic exclamation and tackle-hug. And how, during orientation, Diana and I intimidated each other - to me she looked tough, to her I looked monstrously tall. I forgot to bring my favorite hairbrush to school, and Jojo offered to buy me a new one from Target. I still have that brush somewhere.

These moments are so fundamental to my character that it seems impossible, ludicrous that they happened such a long time ago. This feeling is reinforced whenever we get together and the intervening years seem to disappear. Despite the evidence to the contrary - jobs, spouses, houses, children! - it seems that in a moment we'll dump our trays, leave The Caf and return to Gooch 2nd Upper at the end of another idyllic day of our freshman year.

The Big Reveal

2009-08-12T11:45:00.005-04:00

Well, my little chickadees, I have some news. At the end of this month I will be leaving fair C'ville and moving up to Washington, D.C. This is an exciting opportunity - I'll be getting out of the clinical realm and pursuing my interest in public policy, via a very prestigious fellowship. Many of you may know all this already, but I didn't want to blog about it until (a) I had gotten my official offer letter and (b) I had broken the news to my bosses.

I went apartment hunting last weekend, which was a somewhat frustrating experience. I didn't like the places I could afford and couldn't afford the places that I liked. On Monday, however, I got confirmation that the stipend I had thought was for all 16 months of my fellowship was actually annual. That opened up a lot of possibilities for me, and I sent in an application for a studio in northwest D.C. today. I should be all set, as long as their criminal background check doesn't find all those arson and embezzlement charges. It's like they say - what happens in Uzbekistan stays in Uzbekistan, right?

In my nerdy excitment over the new place I printed out the floor plan and made scale cut-outs of all my furniture, to see if it would all fit. It'll be a tight squeeze, but I think I can manage it. If I have to leave the infamous Swivel Chair behind, I will cry.

Can you believe I found a picture via Google Images?
God, I love the internet.

2009-08-03T17:14:00.003-04:00

Despite a distressing amount of adverts*, I highly recommend this site: Emails from Crazy People. This is almost enough for me to wish for someone to send me a ranting, aggressive, foaming-at-the-mouth email ... despite my total aversion to confrontation. Enjoy!

*A word to any of my readers who are marketing execs - banner ads don't work. Anyone under the age of, I'm going to guess forty, doesn't even see banner adds. Our eyes skip right over them, enjoying our bliggity-blogs and facey-spaces while paying exactly zero attention to any and all sponsors. You're going to need more to capture my imagination than some random JPEG of a woman doing sit-ups. Also, WTF is up with the woman doing situps?

Awake and Dreaming

2009-07-30T12:56:00.004-04:00

My dreams are intense. I've had lucid dreams, where you know you are dreaming and are able to control what happens next. Every once in a while I'll have a dream that is prophetic. Sometimes they're about trivial things - in high school I once dreamed an entire conversation with the boy I liked, the day before it happened. As a result I was able to avoid embarrassing myself (more than usual). More often, however, the meaning is less clear. Once I had a night terror about a flesh-colored sack filling with yellow viscous fluid. The next week, my father had a heart attack due to a cholesterol blockage. Even my regular dreams are so vivid that I will often confuse them, upon waking, with reality.

This morning I dreamt I was covered in spiders, and that they were spinning their webs around my head. When I woke, I screamed at the top of my lungs. My roommate came running, only to find me out of bed, batting at my ears and shaking all over. When she asked me what was wrong, I couldn't remember the right words to explain myself. 'Nightmare,' my logical brain called to me from across the vast ocean of sleep. 'Ignore the feeling of wispy cobwebs against your neck - it's only your hair. That sense of creeping dread is a figment of your imagination. You are not about to suffocate, or be eaten, or die. Go back to sleep ... if you can.'

"I... I had a dream," I told my roommate groggily, and crawled back into bed.

Yar, Give Me Tha Booty!

2009-07-29T11:44:00.003-04:00

Sorry, I think I saw one too many Captain Jack Sparrow costumes at Comic Con. I just want to share all the fun stuff I was able to beg, borrow and steal while at the convention. Well, not actually share. More like... gloat.

SWAG, aka free stuff! I got a t-shirt from Burn Notice - sure it's neon yellow with Micheal Weston's face in day-glo orange screen printed across the entire front and I would never be caught dead in it. It was free. I also got tons of buttons to add to my collection (and you thought I couldn't get any nerdier). Possibly the best swag, though, was at the Viz Media booth - free manga! Well, free promotional books with the first chapter of five mangas, in order to get you hooked and force you to buy the rest. They're basically like a drug dealer ... the first hit is free, but the next will cost you.

BOOKS ... well, graphic novels. As previously mentioned, I got volume one of Piled Higher and Deeper. I also got volumes one and two of Strangers in Paradise, one of the greatest romance comics of all time. When I went to the booth, the author was standing about chatting with fans, so I even got him to sign my copies - score! Of course, now I wish I had gotten volume three as well - I finished volume two before I even got home. But my bag was so overstuffed I barely managed to zip it closed, so all in all I think I stopped at a good point.

Katchoo, how did you get to be so cool?

STAR COLLECTING. I dragged Maggie through the line for The Guild so I could get my picture taken with Felicia Day. I also stood in line for half an hour to get the autograph of J. Michael Straczynski, a famous comic book artist, for my friend Jeff. Everyone else in line had comics or posters for him to sign. All I had was a page torn from Maggie's notebook. I felt like such a n00b.

2009-07-28T11:05:00.007-04:00

I'm back from Comic Con bearing graphic novels, colorful buttons, and shame. Because what vacation would be complete without utter humiliation?

The Exhibition Hall at Comic Con is a massive conglomeration booths providing everything from swag (free stuff) to books for sale to meet-and-greets with authors and artists. The hall is so massive that if you stood at one end you wouldn't be able see the far wall - even if the room wasn't full of so many colorful banners, advertisements and directional signs as to cause total sensory overload. You could spend the entire con in the Exhibition Hall.

I had come in to hit two or three booths and get out ... so of course I immediately got lost. I was turning yet another corner in the blind hope of finding an exit, when I saw it. A booth for Piled Higher and Deeper (PhD), one of my all-time fave web comics. I squee'd and rushed up to the attendant, gushing about how inspirational the strip had been during my grad school days. He smiled politely. Feeling a bit silly for fan girling in front of this random person, I asked about buying a t-shirt. He kindly pulled down several shirts for me, but none were to my taste or in my size. Frustrated, I was about to leave when he said, "Well, if you buy a book, I'll sign it for you."

The man I had taken for a low-level flunky was actually Jorge Cham, the author of PhD.

That's the thing with Comic Con ... you never know who you're going to run into. I saw Jimmy Fallon walking down a hallways in a green spandex costume, camera crew in tow. I swear I saw Beth Grant (as Maggie said, it was one of those "hey, it's that woman!" moments) waiting for someone by the escalator. And every so often, in a panel, a star would come up to the microphone during the audience Q&A. So I guess I should have expected that Jorge Cham might be manning his own booth. Once I realized it, I tried to play it off.

Me: Shouldn't you have a minion doing this for you?
JC: You know, I should!
Me: Talk to your publisher and demand a minion!
JC: Well, I have a pretty tough publisher.
Me (not knowing what else to say): Oh. Bummer.
JC: *wry grin* I'm self-published.
Me: Hahahahahaha, I'm laughing because I'm uncomfortable.
JC: ...
Me: I'll just go, now.

Just forward my mail to Ballroom 20

2009-07-26T14:30:00.003-04:00

Greetings again from Comic Con! Look forward to many posts on the TV blog of the ah-mazing panels I've been in. Right now, on this blog, I'd like to talk about the thing about Comic Con that they don't want you to know ... the f*cking lines.

Today, I got up at 6:30 am to get ready, get my stuff packed, catch a trolley, and wait in line for an hour and a half. All for the sake of seeing David Tennant live and in person, but still. Here's the thing - if there's a panel that you really, really, really, really want to attend you have to get there stupid early. The plus side is that you meet interesting people in line. Some have fascinating jobs, like video game designers or interns at Cartoon Network. Some have wonderful costumes, as you saw in my previous post. Some have interesting ... odors, which is not as fun. Still, overall it's good.

There's a whole strategy involved, as well, For example, I want to see the Being Human / Torchwood panel this afternoon in this same room. I know that's going to be a popular, so I'm just going to hang out here all day. Yes, I'm insane. No, I do not care. Also, I'm not the only one. I'm here in the American Dad panel, and half the t-shirts I see around me are squeeing about Ianto Jones (character from Torchwood). That's just how we Comic Con-ers roll.

Day One (and a half) of Comic Con

2009-07-24T13:46:00.010-04:00

You will be pleased to note that I survived my cross-country journey (starting at 6am) from Virginia to California.

First of all, Comic Con is amazing! Even if comic books, awesome TV shows, movies and novels aren't your thing (I imagine you would spend most of your day playing with your belly button lint), you have to admire the sheer organization it takes to corral some 126, 000 nerds in and out of meeting rooms all day.

I am currently sitting in the hallway of the San Diego Convention Center, watching heroes, villains and ninjas walk by. Don't believe me? Observe...

Kakashi and the 3rd Hokage from Naruto

American Maid and Sewer Urchin from The Tick

The Doctor, pictured with a Dalek, from Doctor Who

I love seeing and recognizing truly random costumes - and I think the people wearing them enjoy having their hard work pay off. For example, yesterday I saw a man dressed as Captain K'nuckles from The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack.

Adventure!

Comic Con, ho!

2009-07-22T11:36:00.004-04:00

This time tomorrow, I will be basking in the warmth of sunny San Diego ... shortly before locking myself in a convention center for the next four days. Yes, Comic Con is finally (almost) here! For those of you who don't know, Comic Con is the O.G. comic book/cartoon/sci-fi/fantasy convention. It's the Nerd Mecca. Maggie, Rachel, Carly and I have been planning this trip for ages.

The only problem is that there is so much to see and do! Even when you factor in my general lack of interest in the mechanics of comics (how-to workshops and historical reviews leave me cold), my schedule is jam-packed. There are a lot of hard decisions to make. For instance, do I go to listen to Terry Brooks talking about the latest Magic Kingdom of Landover book or to "Mad Science: The Science Behind Science Fiction?" Should I stick with my plan to go to the "Meet The Guild" panel, or try to get Neil Gaiman's autograph when he comes to talk about Coraline? And at some point I should probably go out and, you know, see San Diego.

Hopefully I will have internet access at the hotel and energy enough to blog about all the wondrous happenings. If not, you can just imagine me in my Comic Con t-shirt, running from room to room according to my obsessively-complied schedule, surrounded by my nerd brethren and the occasional famous person, with a big grin on my face.

2009-07-20T09:32:00.001-04:00

Per usual when my life is a mess, the blog suffers. Here are list of links to keep you amused during the current dearth. About 80% safe for work. Unless your boss is a real @$$hole about the firewall.

FailBlog - full of hilarious pictures, videos, articles and the occasional response to a threatening email.

FML - stands for F*ck My Life. A standard entry would sound something like this. "Today, my sister and I were kidnapped by hill folk never to be seen again. FML." The best part is that you can show your support/disdain by clicking, "I agree, your life sucks" or "You totally deserved it." FML keeps a running tally of the votes ... I always imagine someone coming back to their post, only to realize one million internet strangers think they deserve what they got. Glorious. Although some entries can stir up mixed emotions.

TFLN - no, I don't mean the Teaching for Learning Network. I mean Texts From Last Night, a hilarious catalog of the foibles of youth. For example...

(425): If I had a nickel for every time somebody called me a bad person I would have enough money to check into rehab

Enjoy!

You Call Me Haraam? Well, So's Your Mom!

2009-07-17T13:03:00.011-04:00

If you are in the DC area, I have an event to recommend! Headscarf and the Angry Bitch is a one-woman play that is part of the Capital Fringe Festival. The protagonist, Zed Headscarf, is a Muslimah comedy folk singer who has been hired by a local mosque to do community outreach. Her outrageous personal stories and music about growing up Muslim in America speak of an irreverence born from familiarity, rather than contempt. There were plenty of shout-outs for the South Asians ("We'll get to Indo-Pak relations in just a bit," Zed promises at one point, with a twinkle in her eye. Later, we hear her ballad to her Indian ex-boyfriend. I won't spoil the ending, but it's good). Parts of it were really touching, and I'm woman enough to admit that I blubbered like a baby. I got the feeling that the character draws heavily from the life experiences of the author/actress, Zehra Fazal.

She's a friend of my friend Kristi, which is how I heard about the show. We met her afterward, and I totally fangirled all over myself. So ashamed.

A few bits of advice: Buy tickets ahead of time! I foolishly did not, and had to buy one of only ten standing room only tickets. The show isn't too long (less than an hour), so standing isn't a problem unless you're a lazy lump like me. Luckily I had friends there saving me a seat (thanks, guys!). In addition to tickets, you'll need to buy a Capital Fringe Festival button:

The final two shows are tonight at 8:30 and tomorrow at 3:30, at the Warehouse Next Door. There is a bar, but don't be seduced by the fact that they have Pina Coladas on tap - they're sickeningly sweet to start, and nothing but ice by the end. Maybe because mine was a virgin... insert a sexual innuendo of your choice here.

Signs

2009-07-08T09:21:00.002-04:00

This may sound strange, considering the source, but I love roadside church signs. You know the ones - white with movable black letters, like fast food billboards. Only instead of two-for-one deals on greasy burgers, they advertise fellowship meetings and children's pageants. And sometimes they deliver little bon mots to make a long drive more bearable. For example:

- in front of a predominantly Black church near where I used to live in Richmond: SOUL FOOD SERVED HERE
- on 29 North, at what I assume was a nondenominational church: GOD WANTS SPIRITUAL FRUIT, NOT RELIGIOUS NUTS!

I know full well that there signs are not meant for me. None of these churches are seeking to recruit overly intellectual American Hindus who suspect Christianity may be secretly polytheistic.* But I love these signs, because their whimsy underscores an intrinsic similarity - I think God has a sense of humor, too. And my laughter as I drive past is an outpouring of joy at this shared revelation.

*The Devil? Are you kidding me with that?

"Research is what I'm doing when I don't know what I'm doing.” - Werner von Braun

2009-06-29T15:29:00.000-04:00

Another re-post from the old writer's blog! Try to contain your excitement.

--

We all know the old adage, "write what you know." But with the help of a little research, you can 'know' just about anything. I'm not entirely certain that this is a good thing.

Research is a natural part of writing for me. I usually like to research every detail, right down to appropriate name meanings for my characters' pet toads, but not everyone shares in my psychosis. In fact, I feel this practice has the potential to get me into real trouble. For one, it can break up the flow of writing - if you get hung up on if Chicago bus drivers wear blue or purple uniforms, you might miss your hero's stop. For two, there are potential, ahem, legal ramifications.

In one of my stories the heroine has to type a letter for her boss, the assistant district attorney. I wanted to show off his clout, so I addressed the letter to a politician in my heroine's hometown ... and used the politician's real name and address. Later I realized this was a BAD IDEA (yes, all-caps are necessary to contain the badness of this particular idea) and changed it. On the other hand, no one wants to read that your hero attends Nondescript University in Nowhere Special, Nebraska, regardless of that fact that his major is Underwater Basket Weaving and he's secretly dating the captain of the football team. You just need to find a balance.

The internet is the double-edged sword of research. Obviously you can get the facts on just about anything from databases like Answers.com and Wikipedia. I also like to use Google Images to find pictures of my settings. But the ease of obtaining information can often lead you astray. A good rule of thumb: if it takes you more than five minutes of dedicating Googling to find something out, is anyone else going to get the reference? Unless you're writing Star Trek fanfiction, the answer is probably 'no.'

Also, never underestimate the benefit of life experience. All the research in the world is no substitute for visiting your setting or observing/working at your hero's job, if only for a day. If your hero is a surgeon or cliff diver or some other job they don't let you temp in, bribe someone with expertise into having a nice, long chat. I find that cookies and promises of a spot in the acknowledgments work wonders.

Fat Lip

2009-06-23T14:30:00.004-04:00

It's amazing to me what I can and can't do with the right lower quadrant of my face completely numb from Novocaine. I talk on the phone and eat a cup of yogurt. I can't purse my lips evenly or stop playing with my mouth. It feels like my lower lip should be huge, but constant checks in the mirror confirm that my face is as proportional as it ever was.

On the upside, I learned a lot about my dentist today. She enjoys ballroom dancing, and has been taking lessons for over ten years. She watches trashy reality TV shows like The Bachelorette and likes to pretend that her office (in the mountains) is actually located on the beach. I quite like her. Which is pretty remarkable, since just this morning she spent the better part of an hour drilling holes in me. And then told me I'd be too numb to eat much of anything until 3pm.

*pokes lip* Any time, now.

Urgh

2009-06-22T09:17:00.008-04:00

There are so many descriptive terms for the biological process of emesis. Of course there is the most common, throwing up. But there's also getting sick or being ill for the more refined, and spewing or blowing chunks if you want to be descriptive. There is also context to consider - after a long night of partying, you worship the porcelain god. If you wake up to a churning gut it might be morning sickness, which may or may not be a good thing. So many, many ways to say the same thing. But my kind readers will forgive me if I speak plainly for once.

I am so nervous I want to vomit.

I don't usually have a sensitive stomach - I can (and unfortunately do) eat almost anything. I think it comes from being raised on Indian food. Growing up, being able to tolerate spices was considered a necessity for gastronomic health. More recently I've come to the conclusion that my stomach may actually be slightly larger than is typical. When properly inspired, I have been known to eat an IHOP breakfast and a half, as Maggie can attest. I have also won a Jell-O eating contest... The details of which I do not plan to publish. Sorry.

So what could cause a dedicated, resilient organ such as my stomach to stage a revolt? This afternoon I am expecting an important phone call. Life-changingly important. How-am-I-going-to-get-through-clinic-today important. So as soon as I got my breakfast down this morning, it immediately wanted to come back up again.

Fear not, gentle readers. I have not expelled the contents of my stomach ... yet. Lunchtime may bring new and unpleasant developments. Please think good thoughts for me and my bubbling gastric acid.

Not cool, President Obama. Not cool.

2009-06-18T13:36:00.005-04:00

I'm really puzzled by the news of this DOJ brief on DOMA. On Friday, the Department of Justice called for the dismissal of a lawsuit that challenged the heinous Defense of Marriage Act. DOMA states that the federal government doesn't recognize same-sex marriages and that states don't have to, either. This DOJ brief contradicts President Obama's campaign promises to repeal DOMA, a law he described as "abhorrent." The gay rights movement, having supported the President's campaign en masse, was patiently waiting in line behind the global economic crisis and a slew of other "more pressing" issues. When this came along leading activists were, needless to say, pissed. Now the administration is saying that the President still intends to get rid of DOMA, but it is the DOJ's job to uphold the law of the land, whatever that law may be.

You know what else used to be illegal? Interracial marriage. Yeah, I said it! How the DOJ brief could compare same-sex marriage to incest and statutory rape and not make this much more reasonable connection is beyond me. My point is, we know that the law of the land is not infallible. It is the product of human effort, and as such can be wrong and scary and bigoted. If we wanted our government to follow the letter of law - no more, no less - we could install a system of computers for that. And soon we'd all be living on Mars, toiling endless to mine the ore they need for fuel. But I digress.

Over the past week the administration has paid lip-service to the ideas of equality, possibly trying to pacify angry gay rights activists. President Obama granted some benefits to the same-sex partners of federal employees (though, of course, not full benefits... that's outlawed by DOMA). And the DOJ has allowed one man to change his passport to reflect his married name. It's kind of like cutting off someone's leg, then handing them back a few toes.

This is, at best, a first-class f*** up (Joe Biden's in the back with his hands in the air, "Not me this time! Totally not me."). At worst, I've heard it called an attempt by the Obama administration to kowtow to "family values" conservatives. One thing is for sure - the trust has been broken. President Obama will need to offer up a lot more before he can again count on the support of the gay community and it's supporters.

Here's a link to a good summary article.

My library was dukedom large enough

2009-06-17T14:18:00.003-04:00

When I was a child the library was my sanctuary, my summertime escape. I could avoid the sun, heat, and physical activity that typified most kid's vacations. In the library I didn't have to worry about my body, already plumping up in all the wrong places, and it's many athletic deficiencies. There it was my mind that was active - running through long reading lists, doing laps around the stacks. I was training my brain for the marathon of education that would follow - high school, college, grad school and beyond.

While running the race of higher learning, however, I had little cause to return to the library. My text books were purchased, not borrowed, so I could take notes in the margins and highlight important passages. I would never dream of defacing a library book like this, but such was my training. Reading was no longer a sport - it was my occupation. For the most part, pleasure reading fell to the wayside. For six years I read almost nothing but academic texts and scientific literature. Even when I started work and had a little more free time, I didn't go back to the library to browse and relax. Until this week.

I had requested a novel for a book club, and it came in on Monday. The book club meeting is today, and I had conflict anyway, but I figured I couldn't just let the book sit there. I went to pick it up from Marion the Librarian at the branch where my Toastmasters group meets. Please do not imagine her to be the precocious heroine from The Music Man ... think instead a short woman with gray hair, wire-rimmed glasses and hard features. I can tell that Marion disapproves of the noisy speechifying that goes on in the library's meeting room. She scowls impressively over her glasses every time I walk by the circulation desk - daunting, to say the least. Still, on this day it galvanized me to action - I would not flee before Marion's dour expression. I would stay, and leave when I was ready to go.

I wandered in and out of the stacks, admiring the classification by genre that mirrored my bookcase at home. I went from Mystery to Westerns to SciFi to Adult Fiction. Young Adult called to me from out of the past, but I resisted. I amused myself by confirming that I'd read all the Agatha Christie available and considered checking out Ralph Compton's last installment in the Danny Duggin series, Death Along the Cimarron. Searching for Neil Gaiman revealed three slim Sandman graphic novels, but no Neverwhere or Anansi Boys. I finally settled on a book suggested by my book club last month, that I had previewed on Amazon but never got around to buying. When I was finished, I used the self-checkout station (the wonders of our age!), snubbing Marion entirely. Take that, I thought childishly. I win at Library.

Mark my words

2009-06-12T09:57:00.002-04:00

Here's an old post from the blog I started with my now-defunct writer's group. It consists of me fangirling Mark Twain for several paragraphs. *eye roll*

--

"Let us guess that whenever we read a sentence and like it, we unconsciously store it away in our model-chamber; and it goes, with the myriad of its fellows, to the building, brick by brick, of the eventual edifice which we call our style." - Mark Twain

If this is the case, the entire basement of my house of style is made of tiny bearded bricks in white linen suits. Mark Twain saw the world so clearly. He saw the humor of things because he also saw the truth of them. Thus, Twain's self-awareness as a writer and a man just makes sense. His ideas about writing (and about life) are inspirational without being maudlin and funny without being trite.

"The time to begin writing an article is when you have finished it to your satisfaction. By that time you begin to clearly and logically perceive what it is that you really want to say."

"The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug."

"Substitute 'damn' every time you're inclined to write 'very.' Your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be."

Do yourself a favor - go read Captain Stormfield's Visit To Heaven. It will change the way you live your life. Or at least the way you use adjectives.

The weary traveler finally makes it home

2009-06-10T14:23:00.004-04:00

Last week I was again up in New York for my certificate program. Eight hours in a classroom per day for five whole days, joy of joys. Two things made the week bearable - that I find the material endlessly fascinating (nerd!) and that I had plans to meet up with my friend, Ducks, and visit NYC.

Ducks' life is completely alien to me. She lives in a one-room apartment with a tiny kitchen and a minuscule fridge. Keeping a bunch of food around would only attract vermin, so her cupboards are constantly bare. On the plus side, anything you could ever want to eat is available in the city - and the store that sells it is within walking distance. While it takes me half an hour to get a box of cereal from Kroger, Ducks can pop over to the cafe (literally) around the corner and bring back the freshest, most delicious pastries known to man. We breakfasted like kings.

For lunch we met friends at a French restaurant - our waiter's accent was pronounced and extremely intimidating. I wanted to order the quiche, but hesitated because it was on the brunch menu. "Don't worry," our friends Ann and Alyssa reassured me. "Brunch in New York doesn't start until noon." Fascinating. Ducks and I then announced our plans to go to a festival at the Museum of Comic and Cartoon Art (MoCCA). Our friends Tom and Kristi immediately exclaimed in unison, "MOCHA FEST?!?" Once we explained it to them, they seemed less excited about joining us.

After our sadly-lacking-in-chocolatey-coffee-goodness festival, Ducks and I wandered about a bit. She took me to get Slurpees at a 7/11 (this is apparently a rare delicacy in NYC) and to an artifical beach at South Street Seaport. Finally, we met our friend Matt and his fiancee Makayla for dinner. It was Matt's birthday, 30 years young! But sadly the rest of us were too old to get up to any truly crazy shenanigans. Though we did wander back down to the bar at the artificial beach - they were playing house music, and there were only six people on the dance floor. We decided to call it a night.

And so ended my adventures in New York City - with an exhausted subway ride, a few hours of fitful sleep, and a far-to-early flight the next morning. *sigh* I wish I was still there.

Wait... there's an election today?

2009-06-09T08:59:00.004-04:00

The Virginia gubernatorial* primaries are today. Why was I not informed? Oh wait ... maybe I was informed, but was too busy to make specific plans. No matter! With the power of teh interweb, I can become an informed voter in a matter of moments.

Party affiliation: you don't have to be a member of a specific party to vote in Virginia primaries - huzzah! In fact, you can vote in any primary you wish. Shock of shocks, I plan to go Democrat.

Here are the websites for the three Democratic candidates for governor:
Creigh Deeds
Terry McAuliffe
Brian Moran

Not sure where to go? The State Board of Elections has your back:
Where Do I Vote In Virginia?

You have until 7pm tonight - good luck and godspeed.

--

*I love this word

Thoughts on Dr. George Tiller

2009-06-02T21:06:00.001-04:00

As a student, I had the opportunity to hear Dr. George Tiller give a lecture on abortion at my first professional conference. He spoke with compassion and practicality, both of which are necessary to provide counseling regarding this sensitive issue. It was inspiring - after hearing him, I felt I was better equipped to discuss the full range of pregnancy options with patients.

When I heard the news on Sunday that Dr. Tiller had been shot, I cried. Not only for his family - his wife, his children, his grandchildren. But for every other family who will now face a terrible diagnosis in their (very wanted) pregnancy with one less choice about what to do next.

Pro-life groups were quick to denounce Dr. Tiller's murder as a "cowardly act," stating that they do not approve of violence of any kind. In my humble opinion, their aggressive rhetoric did play a role. It incites hatred, though obviously a person must be mentally unstable to begin with to act on that hatred. Unfortunately, I have little hope that pro-life groups will change their tactics.

The plain fact of the matter is that Dr. Tiller was providing a medical service - one that he knew put a target on his back - because he felt it needed to be provided. Regardless of your politics, you must acknowledge that he was a man with the courage of his convictions. He will be missed.

Sociology 101

2009-05-30T15:55:00.001-04:00

I've got a lot of random stuff hanging out as "drafts" of blog posts, including a couple poems and snippets of short fiction. Now's as good a time as any to get some of it posted! Please let me know what you think.

--

Class is well under way when she flings open the door. The professor, an eccentric Turkish woman with a booming voice, stops mid-sentence. Every head in the room turns toward the new arrival.

She is dressed in white short-shorts and a red halter top. Huge metal hoops swing hypnotically from her earlobes. Her dark hair is styled in that casual way that speaks of hours spent in front of a dorm mirror, getting it just so. Her eyes are laden with color and her lips glisten with tacky gloss. It's 10 AM on a Tuesday, and she's wearing body glitter.

"Sorry I'm late," she announces. "I couldn't find a parking spot."

The teacher nods uncertainly and gestures for her to take a seat. She clicks and clacks across the room in too-tall heels, as if she were walking down the runway rather than a row of desks. The purse that swings from her elbow matches her bright pink nail polish. When she finally settles in the seat next to mine, she dips those manicured fingers into her bag and fishes out a minuscule notebook and a stylish pen. She catches my eye and flashes a smile full of perfect, white teeth.

There's no denying that she's cute. Not beautiful or attractive, but cute like those overblown "teen" dolls with the jutting hips and bee-stung lips. I'm not sure what upsets me more - the fact that she's getting what she wants (attention, power, maybe happiness) from this sick-making display, or the fact that I'm actually jealous.

Coming soon...

2009-05-30T09:53:00.005-04:00

In a world where something terrible has happened, probably in the distant future, archetypes will arise. A hero ... with a special ability and/or tragic past. A villain ... who is connected to that hero in some way. A woman ... useful mostly for sex scenes and being kidnapped. Watch as actions explode into violence in: Every Action Movie Every Made!

Note: much better when read aloud in the style of the late, great Don LaFontaine. Partly inspired by Matthew McConaughey’s Next 10 Movie Posters, partly inspired by random conversation with my roommate.

Watch out, Augusten Burroughs

2009-05-28T08:51:00.006-04:00

Last night, I was thinking to myself that I hadn't seen Mr. Rogers in a while. Mr. Rogers is a congenial gentleman I met through Toastmasters, who also happens to live in my condo complex. That's right ... I live in Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. What's more, he and his wife are just too adorable for words. He's always giving me tips about how to conserve energy in my home and car (did you know it's better to turn the A/C all the way to blue, because otherwise you're mixing hot and cold air?). Her manners and style are impeccable - when I'm her age, I hope I look half as good. And when I needed to borrow a leveler to hang curtains, it was the Rogers(es?) to the rescue! I had promised to invite them over sometime for dinner, and last night I was regretting that I hadn't followed up on that.

This morning, who should I run into in the parking lot? Mr. Rogers. We chatted for a few minutes, giving me enough time to renew my invitation and make tentative plans ("sometime later in June - I'll email you!"). I came to work with a smile on my face. Clearly my thoughts had gone out into the universe and caused Mr. Rogers to take out his trash this morning at just the right moment to catch me on my way to my car. But Sri, you might say, isn't it much more likely that it was a coincidence? That's what the ladies at work said, in between fits of laughter. But all merriment immediately ceased when I delivered the coup de grâce:

One of my bosses came in early today, singing:
It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood,
A beautiful day for a neighbor.
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won't you be ... my neighbor?

True story.

Good News! I'm Competent!

2009-05-27T15:37:00.004-04:00

Last week I gave my tenth speech for Toastmasters, completing the introductory speech manual. I've posted several of my speeches on this blog, so you know that I've been working on this for about a year now. Here's a list of my completed projects (with links when available):

1 (Icebreaker): Words Have Power
2 (Organize Your Speech): Carrier Screening and You
3 (Get to the Point): Bringing Up Bunny
4 (How to Say It): Bridesmaid Bootcamp
5 (Your Body Speaks): My Trip to Egypt
6 (Vocal Variety): Speaking Indian
7 (Research Your Topic): Progress in Cloning
8 (Get Comfortable with Visual Aids): Learning to Knit
9 (Persuade with Power): Creationism vs Evolution
10 (Inspire Your Audience): Proud to be an American

Huh. I thought I had posted more of my speeches. Well, some of them are technical and boring, and at least one of them didn't actually get written so much as improvised ... *shifty eyes*

Now that I've finished these, I've earned the title of "Competent Communicator" - damning with faint praise, much? Still, I'm proud of myself. The next step is to work on Advanced Manuals. I was going to get Storytelling or Humorous Speaking, but I figured I don't need those as much as Persuasive Speaking and Facilitating Discussions. Blah.

Everything Old is New Again

2009-05-22T08:54:00.011-04:00

I am not going to pretend that I watched the new Star Trek movie with any sort of critical eye. So don't expect a well-reasoned review, peppered with sarcastic quips and fascinating insights. Strap yourselves in for some pure, unadulterated fangirl-ish squealing. Oh, and just chock-a-block with spoilers. You have been warned.

1. OMG Uhura/Spock OTP!!!
From the trailers I got the impression that Kirk and Uhura were knocking boots, and just sort of rolled my eyes and went with it. I mean, she was female and within a 100 mile radius - of course he was going to sleep with her! But then she and Spock got on the turbolift and started sucking face - hotttt.

2. Scotty = LOVE
I knew that I was going to enjoy Simon Pegg's rendition of everyone's favorite Chief Engineer. I didn't know I would want to crawl inside the movie screen and cuddle him to death. When he said, "I'm givin' you all she's got, Captain!" I shouted in joy. I don't think the other movie patrons appreciated that very much, but whatever.

3. Kirk's nails are amazingly strong
He was able to hang by his fingertips from stuff for, like, 1/3 of the movie. He must drink a lot of milk. Or maybe he uses that seaweed stuff on his cuticles.

4. Leonard Nimoy should do cameos in everything
Old Spock: You should stay in Star Fleet.
New Spock: But there are so few Vulcans left, I have to go back and help repopulate!
Old Spock: Don't worry, I got that. I mean, genetically we're the same so...
New Spock: Are you sure?
Old Spock: Let me think - living a second lifetime of danger versus spending my golden years nailing hot Vulcan babes? Yeah, I'm pretty sure.

One thing I didn't like: Bones saying, "Dammit, I'm a doctor, not a physicist!" It came across as cheesey. But maybe that was the point. Overall, I'm calling this reboot of the Star Trek universe a win. It was a bold move - this fandom is notoriously detail-oriented and demanding, and rewriting canon was a bit of a risk. Any other Trekkers out there want to weigh in?

--

More lyrics!
"Don't throw the past away.
You might need it, some rainy day.
Dreams can come true again
When everything old is new again!"
Everything Old is New Again, Peter Allen

Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions...

2009-05-20T11:55:00.000-04:00

Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.
- Mark Twain

Ah, the artist formerly known as Clemens - he was so very, very wise. Of course he also has been quoted as saying, after seeing opera for the first time, "I haven't heard anything like that since the orphanage burned down!" Which is why he's my hero.

A month ago I applied to a fellowship up in D.C. I haven't heard word one since I got an email indicating my application had been received. As far as I know, none of my references have been contacted. Every day I check my email accounts (yes, accounts, plural... how else am I supposed to maintain my various secret identities?) with my heart in my throat, waiting for some news. Every day, I am disappointed. And every day, a little voice in my head gets louder and louder.

Why would they pick you? It sneers. You haven't given any talks or published any papers. You're not the expert in anything - no one knows your name. And even if they gave it to you, what could you possibly do with it? You're stuck in a dead end job because you belong there, because mediocrity is the best you can achieve. Just give up.

I want to keep away from small people. But sometimes it seems that I'm the person belittling my ambitions. *sigh*

By the way, I've noticed an increased frequency of "voices in my head" references. Don't worry - I'm not developing schizophrenia or dissociative identity disorder. At least... I don't think I am.

Big Game Hunter

2009-05-18T12:27:00.006-04:00

This weekend I traveled up to D.C. to participate in the Post Hunt, an event designed to tease the brain, tickle the fancy, and make you hate Floridians. For those of you too lazy to click the above link and/or just freakin' Google it, the Post Hunt is "a scavenger-type Urban puzzle that is based on skill." It entails running around D.C. with a special section of the Sunday newspaper, trying to solve riddles and basically acting like a crazy person. Good times had by all!

A word re: Floridians. They've been doing a similar event in Miami for two decades now. Apparently, that's not enough for them; several teams come up from Florida to horn in on our hunt. Last year, the team that won was from Miami, but it was hardly a fair competition - it was like a college intramural baseball team going against a Little League. Plus, first prize was... wait for it... a freakin' trip to Florida. And this year, the winners got $2000 - less than a team's hotel/airfare/dining expenses. As my teammate Stephanie pointed out, "They just do it to be douche-baggy."

On the bright side, Chris, Stephanie and I found that our performance was much improved the second time around. We knew which of our brainstormed ideas were too far-fetched, and which were not far-fetched enough. Our team was rounded out by a couple of their co-workers, as well as Stephanie's family. We had figured out the penultimate clue before the end of the game. And while we didn't come close to winning, we did much better than last year. Even better, a D.C. team won the challenge! Take that, you smug Miami bastards.

For a detailed recap, check out my teammate Michelle's blog. She's a professional photographer, so the pictures look amazing! WARNING: the remainder of her blog may not be work-safe. I noticed that she has some (and I can't emphasize this enough - professional) boudoir shots up there.

Refinacing Woes

2009-05-13T15:07:00.002-04:00

My dad once told me, "if you're not liberal at 20 you haven't got a heart ... but if you're not conservative by 40 you haven't got a brain!" And I laughed, because I knew deep in my soul I'd always be a pinko feminist tree-hugging Democrat. Nothing was going to change that.

And then I tried to refinance.

It was a seller's market when I purchased my condo, and I want to take advantage of the current low interest rate. Even after the housing market self-destructed, I figured I was still in a decent position. My credit is good, I've never missed a payment, and my mortgage is with the same bank I've been with all my life. Should be pretty simple, right?

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Long story short, after weeks of meetings and phone calls and emails and appraisals and fees, I've been rejected not once, but twice by my bank. They even told me they couldn't work with me through the Making Home Affordable program. When I went to the Credit Union, however, I was told that the only people who could use that program is my bank. So it's not that they can't help me refinance ... it's that they won't.

A tiny, angry voice in my head wants to know: "How come all those people who made bad decisions get a break, and I don't?" With dawning horror, I identify the source of the commotion. It's my inner Repbulican, who up until now has been gagged and bound to a chair. "This is bullshit! I'm a hardworking American - I pay my taxes!"

Bashing her over the head with a mallet, I drag her back into the corner where she belongs. Let's hope she stays unconscious for another couple decades... She scares me.

The Weirdness/Coolness of the Internet

2009-05-11T22:31:00.008-04:00

Today my friend Chris' tag line read: "I need to know what a kidney looks like." I was ... on my lunch break (*shifty eyes*), so I decided to do a quick Google Image search. The results were pretty much what you'd expect - diagrams from DIY organ transplant instructions, photographs from semi-legal Chinese autopsies, that sort of thing. And then, inexplicably, this:

It's from a site called I Heart Guts - the happiest internal organs on Earth! You can order plush representations of all sorts of organs and glands. I checked out the FAQs, but apparently no one thought to ask, "Seriously?" or "WTF?" At the same time - plush organs! How cool is that?!? And just in case you wanted to know what to get me for my birthday...

It's a pancreas!

Chris' response: "Ha, thanks. But I'm looking at a CT scan. And I think the thing smiling at me is a gallbladder."

Too Much Food

2009-05-08T08:30:00.006-04:00

I was having dinner the other day with my friends Brendan, Sarah, and their unborn fetus (whom I refer to as Malachi) at a Mexican restaurant. "I want either a fajita or a quesadilla," I said. Then, skimming down the menu, and saw it - Fajita Chicken Quesadilla. Perfection. A smiling waitress took our orders and within minutes we had our food. As I tucked into my exactly-what-I-had-in-mind meal, it occurred to me: Mexican is the new Diner Food. You walk in knowing what you want and knowing you can get it. This standardization is comfortable as well as practical - even in a group of relative strangers, going out for Mexican is a pretty safe bet.

That got me to thinking... what's the new Mexican food? Probably Chinese - almost everyone eats it, but it's still exotic enough to make the meal feel a bit special. "Let's go out for Chinese," you might say. "Shake things up a bit." That would make Indian the new Chinese food, Thai the new Indian, and - I dunno - Korean the new Thai. Then again, as Brendan very wisely pointed out ... what's the new Korean food?

--

P.S. Obligatory lyric reference:
"Now you're about to get cut up or get cut down
It's all about the know how all just a matter of taste
Stop telling me the way I gotta play. Too much food on my plate."
Too Much Food, Jason Mraz

Bigger Than My Body

2009-05-06T09:53:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in a full length mirror, or in a photo taken from a distance, and I think to myself, "ugh, I'm so fat!" This is not something that occurs to me when I'm dressing, or showering, or any other time I'm alone with my body. But then I get caught unaware by my reflection in an office window, and I'm struck anew with horror. I'm not an idiot - I know how much I weigh (too much), how big my waist is (too big), and how wide my thighs are (too wide). Somehow, knowing these things is different from seeing them. Knowing is what I can do in the back of my mind, privately chastising myself for eating a bowl of ice cream instead of going for a jog. Seeing is what other people do - I imagine them seeing my fat body and thinking, "ugh!"

Then again... I don't usually look at someone who is overweight with disgust. Empathy, maybe. The thing is, we all have body issues. When someone is overweight, or underweight, or has the right amount of fat but it's distributed "incorrectly," they assume that everyone around them sees them as ugly. When someone is "perfectly" proportioned, they worry that others look at the and only see a beautiful body. I mean, I assume as much - any supermodels (or supermodels in training) reading this blog, feel free to chime in. We are a society that is body-obsessed, when we would be better served to be health-obsessed. My mother has type II diabetes, and my father (despite his current state of denial) has heart disease. These should be my reasons to exercise and eat right, not the desire to conform to some impossible standard. Someday soon, I want to be able to see my body without thinking, "ugh!" More importantly, I want to be able to see my body at age 90, saggy and decrepit and alive.

--

P.S. Apparently, I've become addicted to song lyric post titles.
"Someday I'll fly
Someday I'll soar
Someday I'll be so damn much more
'Cause I'm bigger than my body
Gives me credit for."
Bigger Than My Body, John Mayer