Ages of Wisdom

Both Prof McGoofy and Ilene are going to be making frequent appearances here.  Though I have a feeling only one of them is trying to get in.

(in the rest room today, looking for something to ace, I noticed that I was out washing my hands before Ilene was, though we entered at the same time)

Moi: Aha, I beat you!

Ilene: I'll get you next time.  You were already smiling when you were talking, like you had planned this.

Moi: Well, I knew what I was going to say, because I'm the one saying it.  That's how it works.  I think, then I speak.

Ilene: Sometimes it doesn't seem like that with you.

I would be indignant, but apparently crossing my arms and pouting is "childish."  I am learning so much in PhD school.  Another nugget I picked up today?  That it is Justin Timberlake's birthday.

Professor McGoofy: Just because Justin Timberlake is 31 today and I'm 32, doesn't mean we can know who has higher cholesterol.  ... OK, that was a bad example.  You probably could figure it out.

Public Health, Things That Are

(asking Ash about her new job at a military hospital)

Moi: Do you teach your patients about firearm safety... while they are sleeping?  (obviously referring to the  public health classic While We Were Sleeping)

Ash: Why would they be sleeping during their pap smears?

Moi: Because that's when public health happens.

Ash: How could I forget?  (obviously remembering the public health classic While We Were Sleeping) Public health is like Inception.

It is indeed.  Affordable quality care.  Clean drinking waters.  Safe environments.  It is the stuff dreams are made of.

Excuse for Not Being on the Elliptical, #82

I was just about to talk myself into going to the gym-- things got so bad that I was using an economic evaluation homework assignment as an excuse not to work out-- when I realized that my iPod was nearly out of batteries.  I am pretty sure that people never exercised before the days of MP3* players.  After all, what would they have listened to? 

That's Academics: 1, Apple: 1, and Physical Health: -1,334

*Yeah, like people ran with Discmans.

Girls Rule

Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night and discovered that you've drooled so much that your collar and sleeve are soaked and you need a change of clothing?

No?

Neither have I.

Cold, Stone, Mushery

Figured I'd mark this while it was still fresh in my mind.

Talking about the rare circumstances when we cry at movies...

Moi: I don't normally cry, except when there's dead parent, or sometimes dead child, that just kills me.

Ilene: I'm that way, too, there's just something about that-

Alene: Exactly!  Or when people's feelings are hurt.

Ilene + Moi: No... that doesn't do it.

A Nerd's Best Friend

I love Professor Molten.  She is warm and kind, which sets her apart from most of my academic role models.  Like Whitecastle however, she is a staunch Mac supporter.  When I mentioned to her my own nerdy reason for wanting one ("they have this really need program that manages your PDF articles called papers... and uh... the design?"), she excitedly told me hers: conflict minerals.  In other words: one more thing to feel guilty about.  Conflict minerals are like blood diamonds.  But much more prevalent.  According to the Enough Project (Molten: That's E-N-O-U-G-H, for whatever reason, whenever I tell people about the organization, they think it's spelled with an F), Apple is one of the few companies that has agreed to stop using conflict minerals in their source supply chain. 

We could have stopped there, but I couldn't resist letting her walk off with the Conscience Prize.  Plus, talking about issues gets so exciting.  So I pointed out the Times' extensive series on Apple's unsafe manufacturing conditions, and how they were much worse than other PC producers.  Because really, that's what it comes down to, not living conditions or user preferences, but who can cite more liberal media content.

McGoofy Judy. And Ilene.

(a long entry to make up for all the days of silence)


I try very hard to be on the good side of every department administrator I have had to work with.  In college, Lori and I had a love-mock relationship, in which I was always really nice to her and she often made fun of me.  OK, that may be because I once went to both hers and Riles' office to see if I left a blue pen behind and that seemed a little too pen-possessive for her.  In my defense, it was a really good pen.  It all paid off in the Case of the Award Mix-Up and she got them to redo the award plaque and even add my middle name into the mix.  At DoPE, Young Bo' and I made valentines, was always super respectful, and smiled as much as we could to the executive assistants.  I'm not sure it has paid off.  But we did eat a lot of chocolates from Jolanda's candy tray.  And at the H'Bomb, Anne got me out of a $85 late fee.  And did not yell at me for many, many late forms.  And funded our screening lunch.  So here at H'Bomb II, I was shocked to discover last week that I had to live according to deadlines and that being sweet to administrators does not guarantee getting out of jams.  In fact, some administrators get quite annoyed if you register for classes late (what school shuts down registration a week before classes start?!).  I am now on Judy's bad side.  The same week I need her help getting into a class.  I am not used to being on a bad side.  It feels all tingly in my chest.

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Professor McGoofy (edit: McGoofy replaces his nickname-for-a-week-Matthew.  this took awhile, but I think it's a better fit)  is my new biostat professor.  He is the most spazztastically wondrous biostat professor I have ever had.  He's not only visually entrancing (he and his hands never stop moving, though they often go in different directions), but funny as well.  A couple of gems from today's lecture:

"Confounding is like beauty.  It is in the eye of the beholder."

"You guys remember the distributive property fondly, right?  From Algebra 2?  We all remember junior high fondly.  (in sing song voice)  Best years of our lives!"

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Oh right.  Ilene?  She's OK.

Is Bob Your Uncle?

I was super disciplined last night.  I ate my vegetables (and 4 cookies...), did work for Doc Whitecastle (ignored my readings), and did not watch too much TV (save the latest Downton).  More importantly, I managed to wrap everything up so that I would be in bed by 11pm.  I fell asleep about 15 minutes later.  Only to be woken up another 15 minutes later by my uncle.

He is in Vancouver for a few days and wanted to say hi. At 11:40PM.  I found it hard to believe that a man who frequently travels to both Vancouver and D.C. from Taiwan might not know about time zones.  Uncle also told me to feel free to call him with any problems at any time-- that is, anytime within the next 2 days he'll be in North America, on any issue that he would be better suited to handle than my parents, who actually live within my time zone.  I groggily thanked him for the offer, and when we hung up and I was once again wide awake, I shook my fist at the uncles of the day.

You see, earlier in the day, Prof Papa had told me a story of his daughter's Uncle Robert via email.  It was so random that both Lenny and Liz, separately, asked after his mental health status.  But no, he wasn't sundowning, uncles just tend to inspire weirdness.

Picture Day

Last week, we sat around swapping awkward professor stories, and because I always win, and I attract awkwardity like lint, I had more stories than everyone else.  These used to be all fun and games, but now professor stories bring moments of introspection and anxiety.  Are we going to be like them?  Are we already like them?  What is it about professors that make them so socially unacceptable?  I don't know.  But Prof Papa sent me a picture of his daughter today.  I'm pretty sure that that's not normal.  I really do miss that man and his repetitive but perspective-altering lectures. 

A New Hope

In about 12 hours, classes will resume and I will be a full time student again.  My evenings will be consumed by procrastination and the end of procrastination, which is homework.  Right now, my room is vacuumed, the laundry has been done, and the desk is as organized as it will ever be.  Here is to a new year. 

Grand Plan

I spent the day in D.C. yesterday, yet nothing went the way it was supposed to.  The past 48 hours has been a whirlwind of plans then renegotiated plans and modifications to said plans due to weather and human error.  First up: dinner.  It went from Sachini + burgers to Max + Marie at Eastern Market to Max + Marie + burgers - Sachini all within the span of a few hours.  The same applied to Saturday:  Tea + Brother's Friend Sarah became tea + lunch + Nick + Marie, which became new puppy + Marie's family - tea - Nick.  Not that I'm complaining.  Puppy > tea.  And what of Saturday evening?  It was originally Max + Marie + home cooked dinner, then Max + Marie + pizza, then drinks + Sachini, then party + Julia, and finally, when I got off the train and back into Baltimore, all else faded away except take out + sitcoms + 12 hour sleep.  Not what I had planned.  But much better than what I had imagined. 

Easy Peasy

Today was a lazy, comfortable day.  I took a day trip to Rockville with new friends Alice and Christy today.  There, we had Taiwanese food, stocked up on supplies at a Taiwanese grocer, and ended the day with bubble tea and fried chicken at a Taiwanese cafe.  It was a day spent with my people.  So now I know that they exist in this state, they're just far, far away in the suburbs.  Whenever I say "my people," Roommate Claudette asks for a clarification, "Jesus people or Chinese people?"  In this case, I mean Taiwanese people. 

Favorite Color

Similar idea as the last project, but with a lighthearted poem and, I think, a much better result (can you tell that I've been sick at home for days now?):


Favorite Color from Joy Lee on Vimeo.

Sort of Like a Wavin' Flag

Trying something a little different:  This is a work-in-progress in every sense of the term.

Stringer Belle

I know I led you on.  And I shouldn't have.  I ended the year with a flurry of posts and then:  silence.

I'm disappointed in myself.  But what can I say?  I just got to B'more tonight?  And just so happened to be on the same plane as Roommate Claude?  I could say that I almost got a 2nd MMR vaccine yesterday but was saved by electronic medical records at just the right time?  I could say that.  I could say that I am engaged in a battle of wills against the germs infecting my body and the pain creeping up my throat.  I will not get sick just as break gets fun.  I could say that I find returning to B'more oddly comforting, but probably not for the reasons I am supposed to:

Roommate Claude: What do you miss about B'more?

Moi: My room.  Having my own space. What do you miss?

Roommate Claude: Some of the people.  And even classes, I'm ready to be back.

Moi: Oh yeah, people.  Right.  I miss those, too?

But the room.  Oh, I have missed my walls, my stubbornly firm mattress, and my security pillow.  It's good to be back, B'more, here, and everywhere.