I'm super-duper nervous about this statistics camp I'm going to. Never mind that my advisor encouraged me to apply. Never mind that the people here accepted me. And that I've got the funding to travel and be put up in a hotel and everything. The other people are going to be professors. And I don't know anything about the software we're using. And my data's not right. (I have no evidence for this, I'm just concluding that there's no way it's right.)
To make myself less intimidated, I Googled the guy being picked up from the airport at the same time as me. Navy SEAL. Who won some sort of awards in techniques that seem like they could be fundamental for this week and I don't have. In other words, not helpful.
I elaborated the story to make him more intimidating. Basically, he used the stats we're learning this week to locate Osama. Really, he's the reason Bin Laden is dead.
If I make him so fantastic that it can't be true, he'll be less intimidating. Right?
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
I feel sexy.
Checked off the list of things that I never thought I'd do: pole dancing class.
A leader in the the graduate women group's took a class a year ago, got hooked, and has been promoting it since then. She got a group of us to take it (at a discounted rate), so.....
Lessons/Points
1) No mirrors in the studio, because we're too likely to be self-critical. If it feels good, it looks good.
2) Take all the time in the world. (During warm-ups.)
3) Pole tricks, even easy-ish ones, are HARD.
4) I'm going to be sore tomorrow. Can see how this ends up being part of a weekly workout routine.
I'd be tempted to sign-up for one of the real classes. (Meet with the same group once a week for a couple of months in level 1. Then move to level 2....) But super-expensive. And while I do like the sexy feeling, confidence boosting, endorphin happiness, I can get a year of yoga at school for the cost of 2 months of level 1 classes.
And ending the night with blues dancing reminds me, there are other types of sexy dancing too.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Analyze this
I woke up before my alarm this morning. Only problem is that my last dream was so stressful, I was in tears. (Funny thing though, after I started going over the stress-edge in my dream an emergency therapist was called to talk sense to me. I didn't need to analyze my dream when I woke up because I'd already analyzed it in my sleep.) So I decided to turn on the radio news and snooze instead of getting up when I was aiming to.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Doubt Comes In
Yesterday was one of those days where I fear I'm inadequate.
Yesterday, it was the school fears. I'm not a good enough writer. (At least not academically.) I don't think analytically enough. I don't know enough background about my research area. I can't even define my question. Is grad school where I should be? Maybe I'm better off finding a teaching job again. I'm pretty good at TAing.
This morning I woke up to my annual review feedback e-mail. I saw it in my inbox, decided I couldn't handle it. Closed my e-mail. Went back to cleaning and cooking. Last night's doubts becoming this morning's fears.
The food got done and I decided I'd rather know the bad news before my morning off. Went back to the e-mail. All good.
Really?
Oh yeah. We're excited for your progress. Keep up the good work. Much relief.
(And yes, of course. Everyone else isn't surprised. Whatever. Because DOUBT is just as serious an enemy of productivity as cockiness is.)
Yesterday, it was the school fears. I'm not a good enough writer. (At least not academically.) I don't think analytically enough. I don't know enough background about my research area. I can't even define my question. Is grad school where I should be? Maybe I'm better off finding a teaching job again. I'm pretty good at TAing.
This morning I woke up to my annual review feedback e-mail. I saw it in my inbox, decided I couldn't handle it. Closed my e-mail. Went back to cleaning and cooking. Last night's doubts becoming this morning's fears.
The food got done and I decided I'd rather know the bad news before my morning off. Went back to the e-mail. All good.
Really?
Oh yeah. We're excited for your progress. Keep up the good work. Much relief.
(And yes, of course. Everyone else isn't surprised. Whatever. Because DOUBT is just as serious an enemy of productivity as cockiness is.)
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Best Friend
Chatting with my professor after a meeting today, I touched on the topic of my moving growing up. After a discussion of how that's shaped me, she asked "Do you have a best friend?"
~~~
Ummmm. wow. I was silent for a few seconds before replying, "I have different best friends from different areas of my life."
That is how I describe people: My best friend from grad school who's not in my department. My best friend from my first year teaching. My best friends from my hall freshman year. One of my best friends from camp. My friend that I still keep in touch with from high school. I mean, my last post referenced my best guy friend, but really his title is "my current best guy friend who really we weren't that close in college and then we supported each other through those outcast jobs and then he moved here two weeks after I did...."
~~~
I've thought before that my formula for determining my best friend is some function of:
Robert Putnam (whose book I really need to read) and others who study the General Social Survey talk about how Americans have fewer and fewer close friends. Shrinking social networks no matter what Facebook tells us.*
I don't think my delay in answering the question was due to not having close friends. I think it was the way I categorize friends.
But I think I'm also going through friendships in transition. The process of losing touch with people I was once close to. Realizing that some of the connections I've made here won't follow the friendship trajectory I originally placed them on--some because I didn't expect to be friends at all, others because I expected to be much closer. Bracing myself for further separation as people move. If I knew who my best friends were, say 10 months ago, I'm not sure the same holds true anymore. Maybe.
Are they your best friends if they change?
~~~
Tomorrow morning I get to have breakfast with one of my best friends from college. We haven't seen each other in almost 3 years. Rarely figure out the time zones enough to schedule a Skype call. And who knows when we'll manage to see each other again. I'm super excited to catch up. And need to straighten my apartment so I can show her around.
My life may never fit the sitcom style. The core group of three to five bestest buds who hang out together at the same bar/coffee shop/apartment. But the best friend model has never been my style. And I think that's okay.
*Speaking of which, one of my best camp friends and I became Facebook friends this weekend. Love how one of the few people who I've kept in touch with since before I went to college, someone who I've traveled the better part of a day to visit, someone who can ask about my other friends who she's never met hasn't been labeled a friend in the new normal way. (And that several of my other best friends still aren't.)
~~~
Ummmm. wow. I was silent for a few seconds before replying, "I have different best friends from different areas of my life."
That is how I describe people: My best friend from grad school who's not in my department. My best friend from my first year teaching. My best friends from my hall freshman year. One of my best friends from camp. My friend that I still keep in touch with from high school. I mean, my last post referenced my best guy friend, but really his title is "my current best guy friend who really we weren't that close in college and then we supported each other through those outcast jobs and then he moved here two weeks after I did...."
~~~
I've thought before that my formula for determining my best friend is some function of:
- length of friendship
- current rank of closeness
- peak rank of closeness
- how quickly we reconnect after time apart
- how much I don't actually think about this formula because obviously they're in my top friends list
Robert Putnam (whose book I really need to read) and others who study the General Social Survey talk about how Americans have fewer and fewer close friends. Shrinking social networks no matter what Facebook tells us.*
I don't think my delay in answering the question was due to not having close friends. I think it was the way I categorize friends.
But I think I'm also going through friendships in transition. The process of losing touch with people I was once close to. Realizing that some of the connections I've made here won't follow the friendship trajectory I originally placed them on--some because I didn't expect to be friends at all, others because I expected to be much closer. Bracing myself for further separation as people move. If I knew who my best friends were, say 10 months ago, I'm not sure the same holds true anymore. Maybe.
Are they your best friends if they change?
~~~
Tomorrow morning I get to have breakfast with one of my best friends from college. We haven't seen each other in almost 3 years. Rarely figure out the time zones enough to schedule a Skype call. And who knows when we'll manage to see each other again. I'm super excited to catch up. And need to straighten my apartment so I can show her around.
My life may never fit the sitcom style. The core group of three to five bestest buds who hang out together at the same bar/coffee shop/apartment. But the best friend model has never been my style. And I think that's okay.
*Speaking of which, one of my best camp friends and I became Facebook friends this weekend. Love how one of the few people who I've kept in touch with since before I went to college, someone who I've traveled the better part of a day to visit, someone who can ask about my other friends who she's never met hasn't been labeled a friend in the new normal way. (And that several of my other best friends still aren't.)
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Letter to The Woman My Best Guy Friend is Monogamous With
Dear G,
I’m not allowed to not like you. It hasn’t been said, but it’s been made clear nevertheless.
It’s funny because he’s never been nervous about me meeting a girlfriend before. (Though when confronted he denied the nerves.) Granted the major ones I already knew. It’s just the non-major ones that I’m somehow never introduced to. I miss the concert or party or whatever group event that is the relationship debut. (Because it’s my finals or I already had plans with other friends or, once, I got the date wrong and showed up for the party the next night and had an only somewhat awkward exchange with a roommate who I’d never met.) I’ll hear how everyone else liked her and say, “Well find a time for us to meet each other.” But it always seems to end before that happens.
But you. Girl, the expectations are high. People don’t like you, everybody loves you. The little old ladies are telling you to marry him when they first meet you. Parental eyes are smiling knowingly. At this point I’m expecting rainbows and unicorns handed out when you appear.
And I’m not allowed to not like you.
To be clear, I’m not worried about it. There were about ten minutes when you entered the story where I was frustrated by the way you messed up the narrative. I didn’t like you then. But as your backstory was explained and your character developed I couldn’t stay mad with you. At least by now, I like the stories about you.
I’m not allowed to not like you. Neither am I allowed to contact you prior to an arranged meeting. When I went to IM you back in a window on his computer flashing “Tell her hi,” he freaked. It would be too weird. It’s not my place. I shouldn’t send you a message on Facebook now. Instead I should wait until he messes things up (because, let’s face it, he will). Only then am I allowed, even required, to reach out with some sort of apology-explanation on his behalf. Saying something to the effect of how special you are. That I hope you can work things out.
And even before I meet you, I know that’s true. I hope you can work things out. And that, more than anything, is why I’m not allowed to not like you.
I’m not allowed to not like you. It hasn’t been said, but it’s been made clear nevertheless.
It’s funny because he’s never been nervous about me meeting a girlfriend before. (Though when confronted he denied the nerves.) Granted the major ones I already knew. It’s just the non-major ones that I’m somehow never introduced to. I miss the concert or party or whatever group event that is the relationship debut. (Because it’s my finals or I already had plans with other friends or, once, I got the date wrong and showed up for the party the next night and had an only somewhat awkward exchange with a roommate who I’d never met.) I’ll hear how everyone else liked her and say, “Well find a time for us to meet each other.” But it always seems to end before that happens.
But you. Girl, the expectations are high. People don’t like you, everybody loves you. The little old ladies are telling you to marry him when they first meet you. Parental eyes are smiling knowingly. At this point I’m expecting rainbows and unicorns handed out when you appear.
And I’m not allowed to not like you.
To be clear, I’m not worried about it. There were about ten minutes when you entered the story where I was frustrated by the way you messed up the narrative. I didn’t like you then. But as your backstory was explained and your character developed I couldn’t stay mad with you. At least by now, I like the stories about you.
I’m not allowed to not like you. Neither am I allowed to contact you prior to an arranged meeting. When I went to IM you back in a window on his computer flashing “Tell her hi,” he freaked. It would be too weird. It’s not my place. I shouldn’t send you a message on Facebook now. Instead I should wait until he messes things up (because, let’s face it, he will). Only then am I allowed, even required, to reach out with some sort of apology-explanation on his behalf. Saying something to the effect of how special you are. That I hope you can work things out.
And even before I meet you, I know that’s true. I hope you can work things out. And that, more than anything, is why I’m not allowed to not like you.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Reverberating boom 6 "one thousands" after the sky changed colors
Thunder and lightening and rain. Maybe we actually are on the warm side of winter.
Amazes me how I much miss this sound. And how comforting I find the fear of the storm.
Though I would trade the sound of wet cars for campers in a heartbeat.
Amazes me how I much miss this sound. And how comforting I find the fear of the storm.
Though I would trade the sound of wet cars for campers in a heartbeat.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Rules of Travel
Number 1: Always pack your swimsuit.
You never know when you'll decide to use the hotel pool. Or run into friendly people with a hot tub (but you don't want to be too friendly). Or decide to go dancing in the rain. Plus, it doesn't take up much space.
Number 2: Travel to see people over places.
Because people can act as tourguides. And you'll see things that you wouldn't otherwise. Practically guaranteed better food. And, hello, friends. Be with them!
Number 3: (Maybe more of a guideline than a rule) Take the local transportation.
Yes, it's slower. But it's a destination in it's own right. What's NYC without the MTA? Or Chicago without the El? One of my favorite views of DC is from the metro. And you see a different side of the local culture.
Number 4: When staying in a nice hotel, take the soap home.
When it's really nice soap and you're staying multiple nights, get a new bar of soap for every night you stay. (One of my grandparents magazines had an article AGES ago about things the "millionaire next door" does that the rest of us don't. They were big about taking soap home. I've learned to only take the nice soap home. But if I've paid for it one night, I want my soap every night. Miserly, perhaps, but it smells so good.)
You never know when you'll decide to use the hotel pool. Or run into friendly people with a hot tub (but you don't want to be too friendly). Or decide to go dancing in the rain. Plus, it doesn't take up much space.
Number 2: Travel to see people over places.
Because people can act as tourguides. And you'll see things that you wouldn't otherwise. Practically guaranteed better food. And, hello, friends. Be with them!
Number 3: (Maybe more of a guideline than a rule) Take the local transportation.
Yes, it's slower. But it's a destination in it's own right. What's NYC without the MTA? Or Chicago without the El? One of my favorite views of DC is from the metro. And you see a different side of the local culture.
Number 4: When staying in a nice hotel, take the soap home.
When it's really nice soap and you're staying multiple nights, get a new bar of soap for every night you stay. (One of my grandparents magazines had an article AGES ago about things the "millionaire next door" does that the rest of us don't. They were big about taking soap home. I've learned to only take the nice soap home. But if I've paid for it one night, I want my soap every night. Miserly, perhaps, but it smells so good.)
Friday, March 18, 2011
11:43 pm Friday
This is not the closest to deadline that I have turned in a final paper. But it is probably the latest.
From my e-mail to my professor, "It is well past time for me to call it a night and hand the baby over. I'm excited to see how a few days away will give the baby time to develop."
Oh baby paper, I hope you grow big and strong in the next few days.
From my e-mail to my professor, "It is well past time for me to call it a night and hand the baby over. I'm excited to see how a few days away will give the baby time to develop."
Oh baby paper, I hope you grow big and strong in the next few days.
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