Sights from the Motherland

We had a lot of fun with graffiti. 

Old school: Making my sandals right on the spot. 

Father is incredibly fond of finger guns. 

A Difference of Opinions

Trying on new glasses with Father and Mother yesterday. I put on a pair with black plastic frames. 

Father: You look like a PhD student in this. Very mod. 

Mother: Don't look like a PhD student. 

Father: I didn't mean it in a bookish way. I meant the kind that looks very smart and sexy. Like what's trendy now. 

Mother: But she's not sexy. 

Workaholic

The only people who have ever told me to "take it easy" or "don't work too hard" are people who have never worked with me.  Such admonishments usually come from relatives I'm not close with who think I lead the life of an ascetic academic.  I see workaholics the same way as I see physicians: I work with a lot of them, but only people who don't know me would ever mistake me for one.  

I sure looked the part on Tuesday morning though, with my laptop out on by baggage claim having just gotten off a red-eye, sending back last minute materials for a grant application (grant application- that's what people who do things have!).  Alas, it was all an illusion, just like how I spent 20 minutes working on a paper during a layover.  If I was truly driven, I would have used 4 hours on working and only 20 minutes for eating instead of the other way around.  And if I had just turned in the grant in earlier, I probably wouldn't been trading time-sensitive tables with the admin support from a different continent-- or better yet-- not taken a vacation in the middle of January.  But such are the choices that I have made.  

Shoot the Moon

Last week, I went to the dentist and discovered that a lifetime of supporting the industry has finally paid off.  I am the reason why the children of dentists are so well educated.  As always, I was nervous about the visit and convinced that I had a cavity (teeth ached when I ate sweets, or tried to floss- so I avoided both).  Plus, my gums had an absolute field week being weird.  By weird, I probably mean unclean.  

Yet, miracle of miracles, my new dentist pronounced me cavity-free.  The best news was when he proclaimed that I was not only cavity-free, but would probably have a hard time getting them in the future.  Such is the fate for people who have fillings on pretty much every tooth.  My teeth are so covered in fillings that there isn't room for cavities.  This must be what parents feel like when their children graduate from college and get their first paycheck.  My years of investment and pain are finally paying off.  Here's to never flossing again.

Joke on You

I spend a large portion of my day on gchat with Liz (reminds me of jlee88).  Her little words on the screen have been invaluable as we slog through this PhD process together.  We bounce ideas off of each other and vent and never talk about our advisors.  Consequently, we have begun thinking alike.  Too much so.

Yesterday, Advisor Who's email included a non sequitur about being in the "emergency room with son's ankle."  Liz gave me the biggest laugh of the day by telling me to ask where the rest of Son was.  Not because it was terribly funny.  But because I'd already picked up on the same line and made the very same stupid joke to Who.  I'd never felt prouder or groaned louder. 

In case you're aghast, we're not horrible people.  We care about children and their ankles.  But Who consistently makes us sit through jokes with punchlines like "is-th-mus be my lucky day."  It's only fair that we give back in turn.