Two Subway Tokens

(we don't have tokens anymore and the subway prices went up, but "1.25 Charlie ticket ride" didn't have the same ring)

For the price of 2 healthy B'more biscuit last Sunday, (former roommate) Amy (not to be confused with me) and I each got 2 small balls of battered, melted chocolate.  This was our "pre-dessert snack" that we picked up on the walk from lunch to dessert.  The South End really is a very small, walkable neighborhood.  The chocolate beignets, pricey though they were, were so warm and inviting that Boston strangers were compelled to chat with us, even stopping us on the streets to ask us where we got the delectable bites.

(in the chocolate shop, after a woman gave us her tips for eating the hot beignets, completely unprompted) 

Daughter: I want to eat this later.

Woman: We can't bring this home to eat because daddy can't know that we were here.

Humble Pie

Every time I feel haughty about studying at the first, largest, and (one of?) the best schools of my field, I need only to pick up a paper to grade to be reminded that getting into this school doesn't seem that hard.

Comments I had to make on graduate student papers today:

• These [7 pages of] claims need to be backed by citations.
• Wikipedia is not a reasonable substitute for peer reviewed literature.
• If you are going to cite Wikipedia, at least put it in proper citation format.  You can't just have the URL.
  

If It Doesn't Fit

It was a classic case of whodunit (well, "What's wrong with it?") and as the resident brain of the family, Mother called on me for help in solving the case.

One key fact to know: Mother has smaller feet than I do.

Mother: Try on these shoes.

Moi: (try on left shoe) It's way too big.

Mother: Try the other one, too, so I can figure out why these shoes fit funny.

Moi: It's also too big.

Mother: Oh!  I see.  

Season's Greetings

Dear Class:

  Just because the teaching staff extended the paper deadline until Sunday at 5pm and said offhandedly that we're here to help, does not mean that we want to answer questions about your final paper over the holiday weekend.  

Sincerely,

Your fa-la-la-la-TA

---

Dear Student:

  No, "pediatric diabetes" is not a "research question."  Questions are full sentences that end with a question mark.  E.g. Were you dropped on the head as a child?  How are we graduating from the same institution?  How do you already have an MD?

Sincerely,

Your fa-la-la-la-TA

And I Feel... Tired

The world is about to end, y'alls, and I'm sitting here, procrastinating from packing for my trip home (home home, not Great Eternal Home).

Before I left school today, however, I picked up some very important insights from Prof. Tom.

Prof. Tom: (signed some last minute paperwork from me) This won't really matter since the world is ending tomorrow.

Moi: But it's already tomorrow in other parts of the world?  We haven't heard anything.

Prof. Tom: It's the Mayans.  They didn't care what's going on in the Philippines.  The date is set on their calendar.

Moi: I'm sorry.  That was foolish of me.  We're in the same time zone.

Great Sympathizer

Jen and I started our jobs 3 weeks apart.  (Young Bo' joined us a year after.)  She has seen all the same personalities I have, googled the same Excel tricks, and we went on to the same school afterward (though a year apart).  That's not why Jen is awesome.  (She is meticulous, quiet funny, deprecating funny, 'gets it' completely, efficient, generous, a good eater, etc.)  But it is awesome for me that when I wake up from a disturbing dream involving Whitecastle's daughter's birthday party, even now, years after we've hung up our research assistant hats (ok, still sort of wearing it), she's understands the terror.

Moi: It wasn't that the party was stressful, but he was just so chill and friendly and I think he was growing a short ponytail-

Jen: Who are you and what have you done with Whitecastle!?

Moi: Exactly!  That was what made it stressful for everyone.

Knowledge is Power

Nerds ruin everything.  They (we?) can't just pick a hobby.  They have to read everything there is about the hobby.  Including health benefits and risks.  And ruin all the phone.  Yesterday, a corporate client group was in town for a meeting.  Over lunch, we discovered that both Prof. Fudge and Client were avid runners who'd recently completed half marathons.  Client had one just over the weekend and flew in from Texas for the meeting.  

Fudge: So your legs felt OK to fly afterwards?

Client: Yeah, they felt great.

Fudge: That's good, because don't they say that you're more at risk for blood clots and thrombosis if you fly long distance after a race?

Client: I did not know that.

And how're you getting home tonight?  Best advice ever, Fudge.

He's Not There

I have been a TA for Advisor Who this past quarter.  It's been a fun, startling ride.  As a part of online courses at J Hop, we have these things called "LiveTalks," which are giant Skype session/webinar/live online discussions for the course.  Who likes to wander into these sessions (that he leads) as close to the start time (and oftentimes after it) as possible.  Partly because he's extremely busy.  And party because it's hilarious making his TAs very nervous.

Last night, however, I decided not to sweat it when the clock hit 6 and Who still hadn't showed, and the studio tech came in to ask, "You said that someone else was joining you, right?"  I took a "if you can't beat them, join'em" approach, and together, (well, mostly Who) thoroughly enjoyed making other students nervous.  Because when Who did join, he decided it would be fun to cold call people.  During online discussions, it's very easy to just put the talk on in the background and ignore what's going on in the session and focus instead on the matters at hand, like channel surfing or eating dinner.  And that must have been why Kurt did not answer when Who decided to not-so-randomly call on him.  Which just led Who to pick on Kurt some more.  Forming a beautiful, vicious cycle.

(during a brief pause as we waited for students to respond)

Moi: Kurt is still silent on the issue.

Who How long do you think it will be until Kurt comes back from his kitchen?  Or gets up from his couch and the Wii?

Moi: Kurt has a very big kitchen. 

(later, after the session was over)

Who: Kurt is my advisee, and he's smarter than most, that's why I knew it was OK to pick on him.

Moi: Oh I know... I mean er, ... we have never discussed having you as an advisor before.

Welcome to the Gun Show

Over the last 1.5 years, we have established many things here.  Two principles stand out in particular.  OK, maybe 3. 

1. I will always have advisors who mock.  (I think I actually work best this way.  Prof Fudge is all nice all the time and that is one of the most challenging aspects of working with him.)  Of course, none of them need to be told this. 

2. PhD school, public health blog, and this wonderful space.  It's like that old college formula: sleep, friends, and work.  You can only have 2 of the 3. 

3. In Bmore.  They just do things differently.

Today, we're talking #3.  Other cities, for example, have tree lighting ceremonies and special trees from Canada, Santas, and whatnot.  Charm City has a "monument lighting" celebration.  They put Christmas lights on George Washington.  And we all stand dangerously close to fireworks.  Because they shoot them from the base of the monument.  (which means that, thanks to location, location, location, the fireworks were pointed directly toward my apartment complex)  That everyone has come to see.  It seems like a giant safety hazard.  But no one seems to be complaining.

City. Literally. Ablaze.

Last year, I kept naively asking, "But we're 2 miles from the Harbor, how will we see the fireworks?"

Fireworks should never be close enough to smell. 

Charm City

I am a master of the silly, inconsequential mistakes.  I've never fallen off of the top of a bunk bed, but I have fallen off of the bottom bunk.  Thrice.  And thoughI haven't lost my apartment key just yet, I have locked my keys inside the office.  Lately, in an effort to not forget my office keys, I have taken a page from Eva's book and begun leaving my keys in the office door.  Unfortunately, I work on a floor where people look out for each other.

People kept knocking on my door today to tell me that my keys are in the door.  Not just my peers, but the cleaning lady, and a professor, too.  People really don't want me to lose my keys.  Too bad their good will is getting in the way of my key-remembering strategy.