Smoking Gun

Mother is preparing for a short sermon on David and Goliath.  Her research has come up with some interesting results.

Mother: Goliath was about 9 feet tall, but fossil records have found giants as tall as 25 feet.

(after a long, silent gap from Father and me)

Moi: Where did you get this information?

Mother: It may have been a hoax.

The Bicentennial

Yesterday, I returned to my desk from a meeting to find Doc Binks and Doc New-Office-Mate- Whose-Real-Name-I-Don't-Remember-So-I'm-Not-Going-to-Come-Up-with-a-Fake-One-Just-Yet discussing the relative merits of east coast cities and how none of them compare to the west coast.

Binks:  We decided that Baltimore was better than Philadelphia.

Moi: Are you kidding?  You can walk through 6 consecutive nice blocks in Philly.  You can't do that in Baltimore.

Binks: But Baltimore has more character.

We all agreed on that point.  B'more has quite a bit of character.  And I like it quite a bit.  I would have said "love," but Doc New-Office-Mate then decided to pull up some murder maps.  B'more has quite a bit of that, too.  It's true that it's no longer among the 5 deadliest cities in the country (it's 6th), but the homicide rate is still 3 times that of Boston.

Binks: Well, you'll always have the star spangled banner.

Glass Menagerie

I went into work work in Boston for the first time in 4 months and was surprised to find a package on my desk. I hadn't even had a desk for almost a year and even when I did have one, I'd never had a package. Yet there it was, addressed to me, and definitely a package. Things only got weirder when I tore off the UPS box to find a very nice grey box. And inside that, a glass plaque.  For an honorable mention from the NIHMC. 


"Congratulations- what'd you win?" my new office mate asked.  I wish I knew.  I was pretty sure that winning a glass trophy was something I'd remember.  But nothing came to mind. I searched through my emails over the past few months. Still nothing.  Finally, I sought the Source of All Knowledge and turned on the Google. Turns out, a paper I was 10th author on was favorably received. It was all Whitecastle's doing. And he'd won so many awards lately he'd forgotten to tell me about this.  Maybe that's why his was shattered in the mail but mine stayed intact; I do not take my awards for granted (he's sending for another one).

To make him feel better about his shattered award that he deserved, I shared the story of how my name was smaller than everyone else's on an award plaque. Per usual, stories of my indignities cheered him immensely.

Whitecastle:  Haha. As if being short wasn't enough. They had to sleight you with the mistake.

Name Dropping

At the conference, I was introduced to a lot of famous researchers by virtue of standing next to important people.  One morning, while waiting to meet Roommate Claude, I spotted Whitecastle in the lobby making deals, and Query next to him just hanging out.  By joining them on the couch, I got to meet an Important Young MD Researcher that just about every institution is trying to recruit.  I was pleased to be introduced because in addition to doing cool work, I knew that Meredith had worked with this guy, often raved about what a nice guy he is, and just recently published a paper with him.  With Whitecastle making the introduction and Meredith's name to grease the wheels, all seemed to be working in my networking favour.  

Just seconds later, however, I lost all the goodwill Meredith's name transpired by responding to Whitecastle's comments about me with "Wait, are you complimenting me?  This has never happened before."  After that comment, it probably won't again.  In retrospect, I should've talked about how much I liked Important Researcher (or Whitecastle's) work.  But in my defense, I slept very poorly for most of the weekend, was completely thrown by Whitecastle's uncharacteristic remarks, and being in an unfamiliar setting, my foot got lost walking around and accidentally ended up in my foot. 

ZZ Pass

I had been away at a conference the last few days.  That alone probably wouldn't have explain the silence the past week except I packed my computer without its adapter.  With the help of a patient roommate and $60 to the good people at the UPS, I am finally home home, reunited with adapter, and ready to sit at a computer and work all summer.  Just how much toll did this conference take on me?  Let me refer you to my activities yesterday:


Morning sessions: Said hi to a former professor after her presentation.  She high-fived me when I said I recognized her citations.  Then we ran out of things to talk about and I promptly walked away.

Lunch: Nachos and creamed spinach (hard to say who had the least healthy lunch-- Rachael had quiche + mac'n'cheese while Ilene went for meatball sub + fries).

Shuttle ride: Nap

Plane ride: Nap.

Car ride home: Resisted napping.  But refused all food and drink offers once I got home and went immediately to bed.  And slept for 10 more hours.

Still an American Doctor

Sometimes, Advisor Who and I sit down for a meeting and he thinks we're talking about one project when another is on the agenda.  Sometimes, Advisor Who sits down, opens up his notebook, and starts the same conversation topic we had months earlier.  None of this, however, deters him from being a smartcuss.

Advisor: I think The English Patient has subconsciously rubbed off on me.  I keep clipping things into my notebook.

Moi: I don't think the movie has a patent on notebook clipping.

Advisor: I'm pretty sure they do.  Though the statute of limitation on that may be running out.

DCup a Noodle

I trekked down to the capital (but not 'the Capitol') last night and met Sachini for a bowl of ramen. I went ready to hate the place-- a tiny, crammed, eatery with interminable waits whose reservations fill up at a pace faster than I accumulate debt.  Sachini and I only managed to get reservations by eating at 5:30pm on a Wednesday afternoon.  But the hype, I am almost sorry to say, was worth it.  Even if Toki Underground was really above ground.  Even if there was so signage except for the Chinese character for 'awake' on the door.  Even if the wait staff shouts "cookie!" every time someone orders cookies for dessert.  In spite of all that, I couldn't help but like the place, the delicious noodles, and the friendly bartender that served us (Sachini: Do you think he can come with us on every meal?").  The restaurant is a self-described as a Taiwanese-styled Japanese-ramen place. A description that is both obnoxious and spot-on.  And perhaps only obnoxious because people don't know that such places exist in Taiwan.

[Sorry, I just went off on a long mental tangent about Taiwanese food culture that I won't bore you with.  Except to tell you that I'm very hungry now.  And I've lost my train of thought.] ... Point is: beautiful walk, nice neighborhoods (Moi: This is only the 2nd liquor store I've seen in 1.3 miles!"), gentrification that reminded me of the South End, and excellent ramen-- sometimes I think I like B'more.  Then DC goes and twists my heart a little.

Excellent Adventure

I had too much fun with 'Alex' over reunion weekend.


(rock climbing: I did not get very far)

(getting in a thinking session by our old honors carrels in Nat & Hank) 

(speeding away in our getaway golf cart post umbrella theft) 

Rocket Science Tuesday

The exams are finally behind me for the moment.  Instead, the next 2 months promise to be a thrilling combination of research work and moseying.  For the past few days, it's been more mosey than research.  I forgot that in order to do work, I have to coordinate with superiors so they can tell me what to do.  Right now, I'm sitting on my hands and waiting for green lights on several fronts.  This has led to 3 consecutive afternoons spent poolside.

Did I not mention that I have a pool now?  That's what happens when starving grad students live above their means.  Granted, it's small and outside and unheated, and I only get access for another week before I go home, but for someone who has never had a pool, it's the best I've ever had.  I'm only inside writing this note because it's raining.  And because I have a pizza to make for dinner.  Who said the good life would be easy?

POV

Sometimes, I wonder about my future, what comes after this program, and how my life will change if I ever make more than $20.  Then I reflect on my lifestyle choices and preferences and realize that I'm not cut out for the high life.

Favorite beverage: Water.

Favorite meal: Soy sauce, oil, and rice.

Favorite dessert: Lemon wedges and drenched in white sugar.

Favorite starter: Trick question-- just eat more of the main meal.

I Shrunk the (Minority) Kids

Tomorrow is the annual Hon Fest in B'more.  I'm not clear on what it is, except that there are a lot of middle aged ladies with beehive, blonde hair wearing pink sunglasses.  And a beauty-pageant type event for the "best hon."  I can't wait to go with my friend Sachini.

(discussing the event with Ian, a fellow immigrant of color, last night)

Moi: Do you think non-white people are allowed to enter the contest?

Ian: We're barely allowed to enter the festival.  Let's not push our luck.

To Err Is Human: Building a Safer Health System

To Err Is Human: Building a Safer Health System

The Institute of Medicine just asked me if I wanted to pin "To Err is Human" to pinterest, perhaps to a "downer landmark reports with pretty covers" board?  I don't know.  But I was amused.  And decided to post it here instead.

PS. What?  It didn't even include a cover picture.  What a ripoff, IOM.

Isn't It Ironic

 

Sachini and I caught up last night after some time away the past couple of weeks. She had gone off to her alma mater in sunny/rainy Berkeley and I was in sunny/rainy Maine. We came back to a B'more under a "cold spell" that has made the city lovely and temperate and still 10+ degrees warmer than it was in Maine over the weekend. The Orioles are holding on to their slim lead in the American League East. All seemed bright and wonderful. Then I found out that this happened.

Moi: To think I spent so much time telling people how much I like this city.

Sachini: I know.  It's not even a zombie story.  It's just a man eating a person.  That is not OK.

Moi: No, it's against the law.

Sachini: Did everyone [talking about B'more] ask you about The Wire?

Moi: Every single person.

Sharper Image

Hard to say which is the worse group picture.


 (unsatisfactory cold breakfast in the not-so-dark Dark Room)

(unsatisfactorily decorated belated birthday party for Jenny)

I keep posting about reunion because it was such a happy contrast to my present week, where I write and research all day long. A 5-day 20-pager take-home exam did not sound difficult last week. But it feels very difficult now. We spent a lot of time complaining about Bo' food over the weekend. It wasn't that the food was bad.  Breakfast did include oatmeal, porridge, an assortment of yogurt, fruit, cereals, and pastries. But it was continental breakfast.  In Moulton, of all places. That's not what we were used to.  Likewise with the outdoor reception with grilled chicken and steak strips.  It was tasty.  But cold.  (we're going to conveniently overlook the ice cream, snacks, and beer on standby all Saturday afternoon that only closed down for a couple of hours so they could set up for the lobster bake)

 (probably a bad picture, too, but hard to tell with the instagram styling, plus, it was in Thorne)

But on Sunday morning, we finally got to set foot in Thorne and have the classy jazz brunch we all remembered the Bo' to have.  There was lox, and smoked haddock (a little too salty for our tastes), omelets made to order, pancakes with Maine blueberries, maple syrup, and all the literal and figurative warmth we had craved all weekend.  Hoarse, tired, and sore, sitting at a round table with friends, and taking forever just to leave brunch because there were so many people to say hi to at so many other tables-- that's the Bo' I missed.  Yup, 5 years out, it all boils down to warm food and the illusion of having friends.

Mi Ella

(Mac and Gak: these princes of Maine had the audacity to pass on lobster at the Lobster Bake)

As I had previously alluded to, it was a rainy reunion weekend in Maine.  So at the end of the professor-led-80s-cover-band concert on Saturday (what, your school doesn't have one?), there was a  mad scramble for umbrellas and rain coats.  I don't know how it is at other schools, but we're very trusting children.  Everyone just tossed off their jackets and umbrellas onto the union chairs and assumed that they'd be there at the end of the night.  Many weren't.  Our class facebook page is now filled with "did you see my-" posts, much like our Student Digests were every Monday morning.  Alex was one such unfortunate soul who found herself umbrella-less at the end of the night.  So she did what any good Bo' Christian Fellowship alum would do: she asked for my help in "procuring" an umbrella.  In my defense, I thought I was just pointing to a Bo' umbrella and asking if that was hers.  It was not.  She picked up the polka dotted one instead and we made a run for it into the pouring rain.  Much to our delight, we were greeted at the door by a fleet of golf carts and undergrad attendants at our disposal.  Despite the wet seats, we hopped on one and said, "to the tower!  as fast as you can!"  And even though the golf cart negated the need for the umbrella, and even though we still got incredibly wet because of the ride, we greatly appreciated having a getaway car for our theft.  Alex even made the cart wait around so we could document the occasion with a proper picture.  

We had so much fun with the escapade that we were still laughing about it the next morning at brunch.  Until Lisa dampened our joy by saying that she was one of the unfortunate souls that lost an umbrella.  Then she turned on us.

Lisa: What did the one you stole look like?

Moi: I don't want to go first.  What did yours look like?

Lisa: What did you take?!

Moi: It was black... with white polka dots...

Lisa: That's my umbrella!  It was by the chairs.  Lauren told me to just take one but I said no, I will not perpetuate the cycle.

Moi: ... hey, I think I found your umbrella.  It's in Alex's room.

For Maria

In the midst of all the uncharacteristic things I did over reunion weekend: the staying up late and partying, rock climbing, and missing personal hero Taylor Mali to catch up with friends (Taylor Mali, if you find this through the interwebs, I am so sorry and meeting you 5 years ago was a formative experience), I also did very characteristic things.  Like going to H&L.  Making a Nat & Hank joke.  And properly citing Maria in the process.

Bygone Correspondence

(after the storm but before the rain)

I know it's hard to tell because we're all wearing shades in this picture and all look awesome, but my friend Linda is kindof a big deal.  She is the first one of us (and speaking strictly for myself here-- perhaps the last) to become a VP.  Naturally, we gave her a hard time for her success.  Just as these same people gave me a hard time for my ivy league education.  It's what friends do.  Friends also pick friends up from train stations. And airports.  And mess with their friends' heads.

While we waited for Linda at the Jetport on Friday, Nic came up with a brilliant yet devious plan.  When Linda texted that she had arrived and was ready to meet us, Nic instructed Jenny to play aloof.  "We're lying on the quad and can't wait for you to join us."  What followed were a tense couple of minutes, a terse "thought you were coming?" text, and lots of giggles on our end.  The whole episode was punctuated by our favorite line of the weekend-- an ever terser follow up text from Linda that said merely: "email yesterday".  

When the jig was up and we revealed that it was all a joke, Linda generated some comedy gold of her own.  By getting lost in the tiny Portland airport.  "Why didn't you just follow the other people on your flight?" we asked her.  "I did.  And got stuck in a parking garage."  So she wandered and wandered while we waited by the escalator, until she sought help from a man at the gate, asking "excuse me, is this Portland, Maine?"  It was.  And it was great to be back.

Ever After

(ah, the whispering pines)

This past weekend was my 5 year reunion and the most fun I've had in quite awhile.  Unfortunately, I did not capture any of the sights of the Bo' on the one day of sunshine we had.  The past two have been rainy, freezing, and uncomfortable, and at the end of it all, I am now sore, tired, hungry, confused, and voiceless.  But I got to have lobster, saw countless familiar faces, and got driven around in golf carts, so the weekend was a win.  More stories to come.