School Special

What kind of grad student forgets to write their name on their
homework? The kind that's going to be in school for 4.5 more years.
Good thing I was the only person who did that so the TA easily figured
out who was special.
Events the school turns on our TV for: the signing of the healthcare
bill, when speakers come talk at the school Forum, key
football/cricket matches.
Event the school does not turn on our TV for: the royal wedding.
Priorities, people.

Governator

So many posts in a week.  Could it be finals season?

The governor gave a speech at the school today.  And I got to sit in the second row behind the reserved seat big wigs and watch it all go down.   It was fun to watch one last big shot before I leave.  It was also fun to watch the governor give a talk about health care reform (Massachusetts, the next chapter) to a room of people who know much more about health care policy than he does.  He handled it with good grace.  And made me realize that I don't ever want to be governor if it means memorizing and learning a lot of things outside my area of expertise.  Unfortunately, not everyone is good outside their area of expertise:

(The governor and Prof. B(l)ender are chatting in the atrium, two girls walk by.  It may be helpful for this story to know that Prof. B(l)ender is a white man)

Girl 1: I think we just walked by the governor.

Girl 2: Which one?

Girl 1: Um, your governor, the governor of this state, Deval Patrick.

Girl 2: Duh, well, I know.  I meant which one was he?

(It may also be helpful for this story to know that Deval Patrick is not a white man.  I just googled "Maryland governor" to make sure this doesn't happen to me next year.)

Over Easy

I was going to insert a humorous dialogue I had with a friend here.  But I cannot recall what that was.  I am in a food coma, having consumed a lovely, lovely leftover torta of the Mexican variety.  It was basically a Mexican sloppy Joe.  And not the right thing to eat before co-leading a meeting last night.  I actually don't know all that went into it the sandwich.  There was a pork product in tomato sauce, avocados, jalepenos, tomatoes, lettuce, and maybe beans, on a grilled bread.  Tortas like these make me glad wonder about the whole world of delicious food items out there that I have not tried yet.  And like counting sheep, thinking of all these things make me very sleepy.  But in a wonderfully content way.

---

Moi: I was talking to a friend about watching the wedding.  But then she realized that it started at 4am and didn't want to get up so early.  So I have been tasked with finding a DVR for us.

Louise: Haha.  So you got suckered?

Moi: I guess I did.

Ye of Little Nerd

Discussing childhood traumas and nerdy games at lunch yesterday:

Moi: I used to love playing Odd or Even with my dad.  He'd pick up a pile of pebbles and I'd have to guess if there was an even number of them or odd.  Kept me occupied for hours.

Faith: We used to do something like that.  My dad would shout out a math problem, like twenty times seventeen divided by four plus three fifth or something, and we'd see who could solve them first.

Louise: And your friends were capable of solving this?

Moi: This was not like Odd or Even.  

Sun Rise

There I was, this Easter morning, sitting in the packed pews of church, wearing a flowery dress, and the happiest I've been all week.  Other than the egg hunt, I used to not like Easter at all.  It went with my general distaste for Christmas, the second most important holiday in the Christian tradition.  In my young mind, these two holidays were both associated with dressing up in clothes that I was not allowed to kick people in and interminable days in the church.  Now that I choose to go to church, now that I don't have to spend all day at church, now that I don't have to be well behaved and say hi to the grown ups, Easter is a joy.  It is a day on which I awake excited, remembering what the day means.  Plus, it really helps when the church welcome center has a special Easter spread, with all kinds of finger sandwiches and deviled eggs.  I got such a kick watching how pleased this old lady in front of me was with the sandwiches that I didn't even mind that she cut in front of me.

(earlier in the week, TChu and Jason, et al crashed our Good Friday service because their church didn't have one, this is an amalgam of our conversations)

Moi: What kind of church doesn't have a Good Friday service?
 
TChu: A fun one.  We're having a party on Easter.

Moi: Do y'alls even believe in Jesus?

Jason: Yeah, but we call him something else.

Thighs of Fire

For the past month, I have been engaged in a stair climbing competition at school.  I recruited 9 of my friends to form two teams (Mary Kate and Ashley, natch), and we've made bets with each other, as well as two other staff/faculty teams in the department, on who will prevail as the best team.  Naturally, smack talk ensued.  I love smack talk like empanadas.  I don't get the chance to enjoy either very often, but when I do, I enjoy it very much and people are always a little surprised (OK, fine, empanadas aren't a perfect analogy).

But alas, this post isn't about me.  It's about Marie the Machine.  Team Ashley Olson (sic) had the long legs.  They had the crazy intense folks.  We had the sweet, the mild mannered, and the vertically challenged.  While I emailed my team with encouragements every week about beating goals and taking others down, no one much cared.  Sure, we'd climb to the 10th floor in between class breaks, but there was no thirst for blood.  Everyone was under the impression that this was a "friendly competition."  Except for Marie.  She understood.  Marie humored me.  Marie climbed her soul out.  And yesterday afternoon, hours before the competition closed, when I calculated that we were down by 15 flights and everyone was already home (the flights had to be climbed in a work or school related building- no residential stairs), and everyone else was content to let it go (and when I felt especially bad because I skipped out on stairs to go to dim sum), Marie walked to school and climbed.  15.  20. 25. 35. 45.  The numbers kept rolling in.  In the end, she climbed 50 flights.  Alone.  On a Friday afternoon.  A quiet feat so selfless and appreciated that what Curt Schilling did in 2004 pales in comparison. 

In the end, the staff team that was ahead by 15 surged past us and still won by yet another 15 flights.  So we beat 2 teams and will be collecting baked goods from them, but we'll be paying up as well.  Life's narratives aren't neat.  But Marie's tenacity is the stuff of legends.

Champions

Dear School Cafeteria,
I thank you for your reliable stock of yogurts, granola, dried
fruit, and oatmeal every morning. But I am most grateful for your
egg-cheese-biscuit sandwiches fresh off the griddle. The exact, flaky,
warm, oozy pick up I needed to put me back into a coma first thing in
the morning. I'm going to miss you, Biscuit.

Sincerely,

Satisfied and Sleepy

Humility Pie

Ash and I created the "Harvard Humility Council" last year.  It started as a joke between us and has now spawned into a joke between us and about a dozen people.  I'm quite pleased with the results.  As Meredith will tell you, they also make great, albeit expensive, professor presents.  In the 7 or so months since the Council has gone public, I've met people who immediately "get it" and those who don't (like Doc Poppy's husband).  Those who get it talk as if they've been in the council for decades.

Prof Papa: So these t-shirts tell people how humble you are?

Moi: Exactly.  Because we're very modest about the Harvard name.

Prof Papa: So you say "I go to a school in Boston, I won't say which ones?"

Max: "But it's not Tufts."

You've got to say that. 

Dear IT Guy Who Thought the Soul Patch Might Be A Good Idea:

No.  Terrible, terrible, idea.  Please, Guy, no.

Sincerely,

Soul But Not a Soldier

Oh Goy

I do not claim to possess special knowledge of the Jewish people.  But growing up in the Massachusetts suburbs, reading the OT a handful of times, and of course, that time I crashed the town Hannukah party, I have picked up a few things.  Things that the couple behind me in the bakery have not picked up in their lifetime.

They had called about 30 minutes earlier to inquire whether the chocolate cake was flourless and been told that it was.  Unfortunately, they did not reserve the chocolate cake in the same phone conversation and arrived to find the cake had sold out.  That's when this conversation took place:

Guy: What about the carrot cake cupcake?

Girl: You can't have that. That has leavening?

Guy: Really?  

Girl: You're the one that's Jewish.  How am I a better Jew than you?

(fun to say, but as we'll soon find out, neither of them are good Jews)

As I waited for my order to be filled, they couple played a rousing round of "Spot the Flourless Items."  A game that they weren't very good at that, as the next 3 items they picked out were the fruit tart, homemade Oreos (delicious!), and bread pudding.  Did I mention that the name of the bakery is Flour?  All the while, there was a giant pile of coconut macaroons in front of them that neither they nor the staff noticed.  Clearly, all of these people could have benefited from the lesson of The Seder Plate Champion. 

(All the videos of the Itche Kadoozy show are pretty great.  I can't remember now why I know about this hilarious site for Jewish education.  It's just another one of those things I've picked up.)

Do No Harm

Lenny: Ah, I'm going to miss your nonsensical anger when I kill you.

Spoken like a true friend.

Scout's Honor

I carry emergency socks in my backpack Yasu, along with quarters, fun
pens, and aspirin. I do so because I like to be prepared and all these
things come in handy more often than you might guess. In preparation
for a conference call today (I hate them almost as much as frozen
carrots and peas), I had a clear table outside the lab, a notebook,
pen, relevant print outs, my iPod, and of course, a phone. Since I
already sound less than intelligent to my collaborators, I figured
that I should at least sound unintelligent but well prepared. Per
custom, I dial in a minute early, so I'd be one of the first ones on
the call. That was when everything went terribly wrong. At first, the
phone didn't budge at all. It also wouldn't turn off. I took the
battery out and dialed again. It worked for a second. Then the keypad
stopped working and I couldn't sign in. Then the whole thing froze
again. Apparently, I should've practiced dialing in to anticipate
this. Battery in, battery out, but this time, it still wasn't working.
So, frantic, I rush into the computer lab and stop Casey, the first
person I see.

Moi: Will you be here in an hour?

Casey: No, why?

Moi: Uh- can I borrow your phone anyway? I'm late for a conference call.

Fortunately, Casey was kind enough to hand her phone over. I dialed in
late. I still sounded stupid. There was awkwardity. But at least I was
prepared for that.

Director's Cut, Pt 2

I would gladly show you the amateur production I made for the department, but it's currently embargoed. Which is just as well. I had so much fun with the script, shoot, and getting all these people together- students, staff, and faculty included (like I'd do this without trying to recruit Papa)- that I would've been happy doing all that without a finished product.  I wonder if filmmakers always get to have this much fun.  I wrote some funny lines, got my favorite people together, they happily did what I told them, then I got to futz around, make up prizes, and get a free lunch out of the whole ordeal.  And everyone laughed. 

At the screening, Papa was characteristically and comically cranky.  He and Captain, the two faux department rivals whose classes most people are required to take, bickered like the old couple that they are and we all took sides in our hearts depending on who we TA'ed for in the fall.

Marie: I don't know how you guys do it. I find Prof Papa so awkward to talk to.

Moi: Really?  I feel the exact same way about Captain. We never have anything to talk about.

---

Moi: By the way, I figured out who was behind the video spoof of your lectures.

Max: The one on Oliver's facebook page?

Papa: That's your great sleuthing technique?  You saw the post from his page?

Moi: What?  No, the link said it was anonymous.  I figured it out by ... asking Oliver.  

Director's Cut

About a month ago, I made a short video for the department to use during orientation.

Last Saturday, on a gorgeous sunny day, I spray painted some toys.

Mounted them onto cups (that I also spray painted).

And on Thursday, presented them at our video screening.

There are a few people missing, but these are some of my favorite H'Bombers.

The More Things Change

I know I'm about to graduate when professors start giving me a hard time for hanging out in the department office too much.

 

(standing in the hall, totally discussing my suicide prevention project with Prof Israel)

 

Prof Papa:  Don't you have classes to go to?  You just hang out here all day?

 

Prof Israel: Papa, you think I'd just idle in the hallways talking to a student?

 

Moi: I don't know what either of you are talking about.  We were discussing my final paper here and I'm a legit student.

 

At my subsequent meeting, I couldn't stop smiling over the deja vu.  I'm pretty sure I got yelled at by at least 2 different professors at the Bo' for loitering around the department office too much in senior year.  Although I guess I have come a long way since then.  At the Bo', I knew that if the front door was locked (because the office was closed and no one was there), I could always break in through the back door.  Here, I know that I better not leave anything in the office after 5:30pm because the doors lock automatically and my swipe card doesn't give me access.  That's an improvement. 

Google Reader

Google Reader doesn't delete posts that I had meant to delete.  Posts like my audio post attempt late last night that ended with nothing to show.

 

Gentle Reader, I really did mean to post something.  But now I'm late for a meeting on suicide (a surefire picker upper for a moody Monday) prevention.  We keep calling the class suicide when it's suicide prevention.  When I return, I'll tell you a story of about chronic illness.  But in a light hearted sort of way.