DC Trip

I went up to D.C. last weekend to attend an NSF conference related to my fellowship. I took the bus to the airport which went pretty well. I got to sit on the corner and appreciate this sight
Which may be the most beautiful thing to see, ever. A mango tree in bloom. Ahhh, I can't wait until they start ripening in June...mangoes from the tree are what angels eat, I swear.

In D.C., in addition to attending a few talks, two other fellows, one teacher and I presented a poster about the research project all of our students are doing right now.

I'm not sure why this picture is so crummy, probably because I carry my camera around in my pocket and there's something weird on the lens. I'm wearing my glasses because my eye got all red and puffy and goey. Great. It's better now though.

We attended the conference in the morning and visited the sights in the afternoon. We saw a lot of this:because our advisor booked us a VERY far away hotel. I fully support that choice though. It was cheaper, which meant that more people got to come along.

Noemi and I ran around quite a bit together. She is definitely good company. We went to the postal museum:It looked just like a big post office when we walked in and we were a little nervous. I mean, I love looking at old fashioned post boxes as much as the next person..but...c'mon. Luckily there was a downstairs.

Noemi got up close and personal with Owney the Postal Service Mascot. I really really hope that the scraggly looking dog in the box is just a model, and not an actual taxidermy'd Owney. Noemi was REALLY excited about Owney. So was I. The postal museum was surprisingly empty. I don't know why. The exhibit on small town post offices was especially fascinating.

After the Postal Museum we headed to the American Museum of Natural History. We saw some more stuff... Anna met up with us there. A refresher for my newer readers: Anna is like my BFF. We met a bunch of years ago while we were both Smithsonian Interns. Therefore, this trip to D.C. was a perfect place for us to meet up. Here's a little trip down memory lane for you guys. Anna and I, summer 2005.



And March 2010:
At the American History Museum we ran into Zeus..I mean George Washington. We asked some guy to take our picture, but he only took a picture of us and George's knee, so we had to ask someone else to try again. We're polite so we waited for the first guy to walk off.

We walked around outside for a bit and checked the big landmarks off our list. The weather was really nice and there was even some sort of Fly-Your-Kite festival going on, which made the Mall seem even more American than usual. The Castle. Check.
Washington Monument. Check.
YEAHHH!!!!!!!! I LOVE THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT!!!! --Noemi
The Capitol. Check.

And, last but not least. This one's for you, Mom. Crazies with signs.

It was a nice trip. We had a lot of time to site-see, the conference was useful, and I got to see Anna...probably the highlight of my trip, next to the Crazies With Signs...of course.

Only in Miami

As I was sitting here typing up that last post I turned the TV on for some background noise. Laura and I finally broke down and bought a decent antenna so we can pick up a few stations. There's some really cheesy show on NBC so I absent mindedly flipped the station and didn't even look up. After a minute or two I realized that there was some sort of rave going on in my appartment. There was this chick-boom-chick-chick-tsk-tsk electronica type dance music was invading my brain and making my shoulders do funny things. I looked up at the tv, expecting to see some sort of law and order or other type of true crime show--because only bad things happen at raves so therefore it must have been a crime show...no. It was The NBC station's weather channel. Playing electronic dance music.

Raw raw raw

I'm back from my meeting in DC. I was up there at an NSF conference related to my fellowship program. It was a good meeting and I was excited to hear about how the other programs run--one group prints up posters with their pictures and posts them in the schools, so the kids can read about what they do and get excited or ask questions. I think I'd like to do that. I think that my students think of me too much as a sub or an assistant, which is how I'm treated. But anyway...one bad thing about the conference is that they scheduled every session within two time periods--rather than spreading them out into morning and afternoon sessions on two different days, they only had morning sessions on Saturday and Sunday and piled about 15 talks concurrently into the schedule, so there was a lot I wanted to hear about but didn't get a chance to. I can't be in more than one place at once! The good part about that concurrent session nonsense, though, was that we had the afternoons to run around.

Three fellows and one teacher went and I ended up traveling around a lot with a really interesting fellow from Venezuela. We went to some of the Smithsonian museums and walked through the Mall and ate hotdogs (it's the American way). We talked alot about globalization and how interesting it is that we can experience so many different cultures in Miami. She told me that the arepas I ate during the Calle 8 festival were Venezuelan in origin and that when they eat them they put whatever they feel like in the middle...mostly left overs I think. She also told me she would show me how to make them, yum!

I've got some pictures and more exciting stories to post about the trip, but that will have to wait until my sleep budget is not in the red, but there is one thing I wanted to let you know about.






I LOVE LADY GAGA. It's true. It can not be denied. You may be surprised to read this, considering my long standing love affair with Ani, but they're not so different. Let's play a game....Gaga or Ani???

VS

"He kissed me on the subway train, he took my clothes right off and then he ate my heart and my brain"

"I kissed you on the street that night on the far side of four and I didn't mind the taste in my mouth or yours"

"When I say you sucked my brains out the english translation is I am in love with you"

"Raw raw romama"

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh yeah oh oh oh oh oh oh oh yeah"

"I don't fool myself with romance, I just live phone number to phone number"

"Stop calling I don't want to talk anymore, I left my head and my heart on the dance floor"

"I wish you the best on your way, I didn't mean to hurt you, I never thought we'd fall out of place"

"I am letting the telephone ring"

"Too bad you had to have a better half"

Seal Torpedo part deux.

It was pouring like crazy this morning so I turned off my alarm and stayed in bed. I've got to pack and get myself ready to head to D.C. today. I'm going to take the bus to the airport because my flight is at noon, which is an obnoxious time to get a ride from anyone who has a normal 9 to 5 job. My fellow fellows are taking the bus too, we all talked about it. I'm taking the 8 to the 37. Hope it goes well...the Miami busses are notoriously bad, so I'm going to give myself lots of extra time.

I want to expand on my post from yesterday because I don't think I really did justice to the whole experience that swimming in the ocean is. It's not like swimming in a pool, obviously. There are no lines on the bottom and no walls on the sides. It's super easy to get off course, so I try to be really careful about sighting land marks when I pull my head out to breathe. This means that my actual stroke is different in the ocean than it is in the pool. I always feel a little like I'm flopping around out there because I pull my head up so far sometimes to see where I'm at. The little glimpse of the horizon with a blur of palm trees is enough to keep me on track, usually, but it's hard to judge distance in the split second that I'm gasping for air and trying to avoid getting a mouthful of the dirtiest beach water in Miami. In the pool I can pretty much swim with my eyes closed and adjust my track every 25 m when I hit the wall, in the ocean sometimes I head towards Cuba for a while before I realize that I'm like 20 m outside the buoys. I have a feeling that everyone else can swim in a straight line where as I'm like Billy on the family circus (I'm embarassed, but it's an apt reference) If you could follow me I'd have a white dotted line doing circles and zigzags behind me. Whatever, it just means I get more distance in. I guess I need to imporove my sighting techniques.

In the ocean I get tossed around by waves and lose track of where I'm headed and have to stop every once in a while to spot the little black arms and yellow caps of my fellow sharks bobbing around in the great expanse. In the pool it's much simpler, but in the pool I don't get to watch the sun rise over the palm trees, or get sea sick....
Ignore the mountains...this could be us..

Like a Seal Torpedo

Last weekend was the first day of spring, right? That means that winter is over and summer is coming, so I decided it was time to get back in the water. The Miami NICE tri is coming up too fast and my fitness level is not quite up to par for the Olympic Tri that I'm going to be taking on. Perhaps my eyes are bigger than my ... biceps?

I borrowed a wetsuit (or three) from KT and headed to the beach this morning. I've never swam in a wetsuit before and I was a little self conscious because I was wearing a diving wetsuit--a farmer john--with plastic knees and a separate top. All the other guys have race suits that are slick and flexible and have long zipper pulls. I struggled to pull my suit on and reach around and fumbled for the 2 inch long zipper pull. I hope they didn't think I looked stupid. Doesn't matter, the price was right and I was warm. More importantly, I was floaty. Now I know how seals feel. I don't think my back even got wet today when I was swimming.

I got there at 7:30 to meet up with my fellow Sharks. They're all lovely retirees who have about a thousand races under their belts and at least 3 decades on me. They're never in a hurry. We got in the water finally at 8:15. I'm not sure where the time goes, or why they're content to literally stand around when day light is burning. I guess getting older means you have lots of time to appreciate the sunrise and not worry about whole system water changes or revising protocols or the STUPID *&(^%& PLATE READER THAT ATE MY DATA.

Usually I'm faster than them, but today we kept pace. I've got a lot of work to do.

Simon Seeezzz, for grownups

I have a confession. A dirty secret that needs airing. I'm just going to say it. Prepare yourself.

I LOVE STEP AEROBICS.

There, I said it. It's true. I love love love step aerobics. And I don't care what anyone thinks!

I joined a gym JUST so I could go to step aerobics classes. Forget training for that triathlon I got a free entry to...I just wanna STEP!

Monday nights are the best, because the instructor actually puts some effort into making her routines. That's in contrast to the Tuesday/Thursday/Sunday instructor who does the same workout every time to sssslllloooooowwwwww music. I guess it's baby step. But I can handle the intense advanced step. Why? Because I rock. And it's not a matter of simply being in shape. You've got to know what's going on or you're going to be standing on the wrong side of the step staring blankly at the people around

The instructor calls out moves and you get maybe a beat warning before you've got to pick them up. For example:

Turn it for two! Straddle, turn, straddle, UTURN,! Stomp! Repeater hams! Over and back, hop turn around the world! Jump shot, reverse V, L step....

And so on. Now if you're any good, you won't miss a step. It's like Simon Says, but no one gets kicked out. Just laughed at. And trust me, those of us who do know what's going on love to watch you screw up. It's all we got. After all, we're in the step aerobics class too...

I try to stay away from the windows so that the people who are out lifting weights don't recognize me through the windows. There's a pecking order at the gym (real or perceived, I don't know) and it goes like this:

Big scary guys who have so many muscles that they can't put their hands in their pockets. >> Circuit trainers who know what they're doing >> anyone running faster than 8.0 on the treadmill >> sorority girls on the elliptical >> steppers. But, this doesn't matter at all, because seriously there is nothing better than step aerobics.

I wonder when step aerobics will be an olympic sport? I wonder if there are any competitions where I can win a trophy for having the best over and back hop turn squat tick tock.

What is that Smell?

Happy Saturday. I wanted to get an early start this morning because I'm heading over to visit my Grandpa in Sarasota. That's a 4 hour drive, and I planned on doing some shopping on the way. There's outlet stores you know, and since I've been wearing the same three shirts to (my middle school) work for the whole year, I thought it would be nice to update my outfit before I head over to DC for the conference next weekend.

But then I discovered the most useless, time wasting and somewhat skeezy random internet chatting site and ended up talking to these 2 college kids from Virginia until like, I dunno, Late. And now something in my living room smells like vomit. Seriously. I have no idea what it is. It is not nice. I'm pretty sure it is not me.

Ok, off to Sarasota.

Hoooorray! Darn.

My computer turned on today!

I backed it up.

In other drama-y lab news: I went to the wet lab to fill up a fish tank system in my wet lab so that I can move fish around and treat some of my fish that seem to have flesh eating bacteria, or something, and I filled the sump and noticed that the pump wasn't actually pumping the water. So I went and did some investigating: the circuit was good, the pump was plugged in and the pump was actually getting hot, but still no pumping of water. I guess that means I have a bad pump.

Also: I've been waiting all week for some NADH in the mail. So that I can start doing some lab work. Still waiting. I was supposed to have it yesterday and now it looks like I'll be lucky to get it tomorrow. This is why nothing gets done. I don't know if I have the worst luck ever, or if I'm just a poorly prepared bad time managing scientist. Who knows.

Not much else to report.

Please Backup your Data

How many times have I heard this? 80,124
How many times have I watched my labmates do this? 97,540
How many times have I actually backed up my data? None.
How many times have I regretted not backing up my data? None...until today.

Let me tell you a little story about the mac mini. It's pretty much self contained. It's like a little pod. I could probably dunk it in the bathtub and it would be okay--provided that you taped up the CD slot and the ports in the bath. Sort of like bathing in a cast or something. The mac mini is the little engine that could. It's tiny, it's quiet, it's dependable. Sometimes I even lose it on my desk under a pile of papers. It is THAT inconspicuous. Unfortunately, today, there was an accident.

I was reaching for a piece of delicious Brazilian candy when the ring finger on my left hand ran into Glass of Water, which tipped over and sploshed all up into the CD drive. That's right, the proverbial Achilles heel of my little workhorse. Immediately, lights went out. I stared in disbelief for a second before frantically clearing the debris off the top of the computer (papers, my current manuscript, sea shells, candy wrappers) and tugging all the cords out of the back. I up-ended the mac mini and water poured out of the CD drive. Shock. That's all I can say. Besides, of course, "bye bye dissertation, bye bye data, bye bye 4 years of work! Peace out!"

I popped the cover off and set it up on a shelf. I'm hoping against hope that when it dries out it'll feel better and turn on, or something. I guess there's ways to recover data off messed up computers, but hopefully it won't come to that. If any one is keeping track, this is the second lab computer that's met it's end with me... let's not tell d lc.

!!!!

Fiesta! Calle Ocho! aye aye aye!

Now that I live closer to the center of Little Havana action I get to really experience Calle Ocho. This Sunday was the annual Calle Ocho Festival. Laura and I took Granite (because she is the Good dog) out for a stroll down the ol' Calle. "It's like a street fair, it'll be fun" I told her. She agreed and so off we went.

It was like a street fair for the first couple blocks, if a street fair has no booths and mostly just people walking in the same direction. Actually, it was more like a scene out of a post apocalyptic movie--there was garbage on the street a slight breeze and everyone seemed a little anxious and chatty--but with an upbeat atmosphere. After a few blocks we started encountering booths. It was not like any street fair I've ever been to that had local artists or demonstrations or dancing areas or anything like that. It was row after row of booths offering either battery operated bubble blowers for children or flags from any central or south American country you want--which were meant to be worn as capes or dressesand booths selling various meats on sticks. Laura and I didn't try any of the meats on sticks but we did drink coconut juice through a straw out of a chilled coconut that a man cut open with a machete for us. It was refreshing but didn't taste like very much. I think maybe we got a dud, but it was a nice pairing with the street food we bought. We had an arepa, which is like a sweet corn pancake/mozzarella sandwich that is grilled and greasy. It's weird to eat sweet greasy food, but when on Calle Ocho...

Granite liked it too, but she got a little overwhelmed when the crowd got thicker and the music became ear-splitting. We got stuck behind a trash can trying to go against the flow of people after we turned around to go home. We were trying to push our way out when some old lady decided to tell us that "Bringing a dog was a terrible idea". I said "She's fine", which she was. I would have said more too but my foot got run over by a stroller.

Then we walked home. I think we missed the really hoppin' stuff that was going on further down on the Calle, but I wasn't willing to shove my way through the mosh pit/street fair to see it. It was loud and hot and overwhelming, so we picked up some $2 cervecas and called it a day.

The Pros

I'm a Hammerhead. That mostly means that when it's warm enough, and I'm motivated enough, I go swimming with the triathlete club at the nastiest beach in Miami where I get assaulted by all sorts of planktonic sea life. It also means that I get approximately 1,500 emails a day that do not have anything to do with me. Sometimes I read them. Like a few weeks ago I got an email that said "House a pro for the Miami International Triathlon and I'll give you a free entry to the Miami Nice" I said "Ok, sounds fun" We were assigned one pro, but he came with a friend, so we ended up with two pros. For four days.

They were from Brazil and we hit it off immediately because they brought me candy and coffee. They were also super nice. They had to share our small spare room, which was really only big enough for one, but they somehow managed to fit 25 exercise balls and 47 yoga mats and a blowup bed and themselves into that room. I think they spent all their free time--while they weren't actively racing or training--collecting exercise balls and yoga mats. Maybe they're taxed heavily in Brazil or something.


Look! Pros in my backyard!!

I was kind of nervous around them though, because I didn't want them to think I was a big weirdo "yeah, I'm a triathlete too! I've done ONE race! We have So much in common! omg! Let's talk about supplements!" I got the impression that they probably felt a little awkward too. One of them asked me what I did. "So, do you like...work?" and I said "Yes, I blah blah blah" and he said "Oh, so you're a geek?" and I said "oh, I guess you could say that"...

They had super nice stuff too, because they were Professionals. Laura really wanted to touch it, but I told her not to. The pros walked in while she was looking very closely at their crank sets and was embarrassed.



Now they're gone...I think I miss them a little.

Heeeey Yogi...let's go steal some picnic baskets!

Since we moved here last month, I've been saying "Hey, you know what would be awesome? If we had a picnic table in the backyard to sit at while the dogs run around and act stupid." Just like that, every time. So, I built a picnic table today.

I haven't done much woodworking since Junior High, but lately I've been crazy about the power drill that I found in the lab. The drill weighs at least 10 pounds, is rusty almost beyond recognition and I think I loose a little bit of my hearing every time I use it. I sit around and think up projects, just so that I can use it more often. With this drill, I can't fail.

I headed to the Home Depot on Calle Ocho (which, if you are a loyal reader you know: "nothing good happens on Calle Ocho"--but it turns out that that only applies to haircuts and taxis). It was a frightening experience, trying to navigate the lumber section for the first time. The first thing you have to do is select the right kind of cart. They have at least six different kinds of carts at Home Depot, and I knew that if I picked the wrong one I would be the object of scorn and ridicule from the gnarly contractors there buying complicated things like insulation or lattices. I decided to just go with the regular cart because I was having all my boards cut to 4 feet anyway--because that's how big the trunk of my Corolla is, but that's not what I told the guy at the table saw. The guy at the table saw is kind of like the troll that guards the bridge. You have to make sure to say the magic words and stand in the right spot to get his attention. Especially if you don't have the right cart.

After I located the Magic Table Saw guy, I left my wimpy cart around the corner and tried to find the right lumber. The 2x4s were of course stacked way too high for me to get them. stood on my tip toes and tried to hoist a few off the pile without dropping any on my head. I got two cleanly but then a third was trying to come along for the ride. There was no way that I could bring the 2 down without being brained by the third. I stood there, tippy toed teetering with three 2x4s perched precariously above my head until some contractor type wandered by and helped me out. Who stacks lumber 6 feet off the ground anyway...The table saw troll.

The guy cut my boards and I located all the carriage bolts and deck screws and exterior latex paint I needed and headed home to start my project.

Laura watched, and took a few photos.

I dug back into the recesses and hidden folds of my brain to remember the nuance of woodworking I learned when I made my C-grade tool caddy in 7th grade. It's clear that I'm totally qualified to make a picnic table.


I remembered to measure twice and cut once and that square corners are preferable over wobbly ones.


Nothing terribly exciting happened during the actual construction of the table. I got a sunburn and the dogs got to spend all day outside with me. Granite was helping, clearly.

And then after about 3 hours of grueling labor, hand saws, forster bits and crooked edges I was ready to paint [[ Thanks to Table Saw guy for cutting the 8 foot 2x4 into 4 1/2 foot and 3 1/2 foot pieces! It's no problem though, one bench is just shorter than the other...you can't tell, really. ]]


Painting is really the hard part, but since it was a picnic table I didn't worry too much about my technique. I think that picnic tables are supposed to have drip marks and pieces of grass stuck in the paint, right?

Here it is! My little Corolla-trunk-sized picnic table.



PS: Picnic table plans came from Wayne of the Woods If you go there you can see a picture of a picnic table that has cross braces--like mine was supposed to have. But I couldn't figure out how long to make them--since I shortened my table--and I didn't have the stamina to cut a bunch more angles only to find out that it was too long or two short, so I decided to not brace my table. It's only a little wobbly...

Feral Cat vs the Spitfire

Meet the Spitfire. It weighs in at 2 lbs 12 oz. It is pretty much a little mesh pod with a bathtub-floor sporting taped seams. It is light weight, breezy and the perfect solo-hiking tent. I love it. Love Love Love.

I get home from backpacking last weekend, and like the good scout that I am, I set all the tents up in the backyard to air out. The $30 Walmart tent, Laura's 2 person tent and my Spitfire. All in a neat little row taking in the Miami sunshine and ruffling slightly in the cool ocean breeze.


Now: Meet Feral Cat.

Feral Cat crawls into the Spitfire because I left about a 6 inch gap in the door when I threw the stakes in after setting it up. The Spitfire is not free standing, so I figured I'd just put the two end stakes in--so that it would stand--but not fully stake it out, because after all, it was just airing out.

When Feral Cat gets into the Spitfire, she must have decided that it wasn't roomy enough for her and that she would rather be Out of the Spitfire. But Feral Cat is stupid or something because instead of crawling out of the little gap that she came in through, Feral Cat decides to start bouncing back and forth within the Spitfire. From one end to the other with claws out.

I see this going on through the window and run down to let Feral Cat out of the Spitfire. But instead of how I envisioned this rescue mission: open the door, Feral Cat runs out without any further trouble, it actually goes like this: Feral Cat sees me approach and breaks into an all out sprint--still inside the Spitfire--which just rips the stakes loose and collapses the Spitfire. Now Feral Cat is REALLY mad. Feral Cat continues to sprint, wrapped up inside the noseeum netting and nylon, all around the yard before landing on a pile of debris behind the laundry room. On top of an old rusty ironing board. At this point I'm able to grab onto one of the tent poles and slowly reach down and unzip the door. Feral Cat is free. Spitfire is down for the count.

Anyone have any suggestions on how to repair ripped noseeum netting (think dozens of dime to hand sized holes) and torn nylon?

Feral Cat 1, Spitfire 0

I've been saying this for YEARS

It was the Harry Potter of its time, and has TWICE as many books:

'OZ' Could be the Next Big Film Franchise

I had good intentions

This is what my new house looks like. A zoo.I painted it green and blue.

We have art on the walls, too.
It's nice to be in a place that is new.

I was going to be really good and not flakey at all when I started posting again in March. Then the internet went out. I was watching a movie on the Netflix when all of a sudden it stopped. Straight up no internet. So I tried to reset the modem, and I tried to get into the modem setup page. Nothing worked. That dork who came to fix our internet in February reset the password on the connection. But I wasn't home when he did it. So I didn't know what the new password was. Anyway through a stroke of luck I found an old link to the modem set up on my other computer. Did you follow that. Whatever, I'm online.

Quick update: the backpacking trip went off without a hitch. Actually, that's not true. It went off without any whining about the hitches we did encounter. It was hard to miss the giant plume of smoke as we pulled up to the park entrance. It was obvious to me that there was something big burning in the vicinity of the campsite we were headed to. I went into the ranger station to check in. The ranger pulled up my documents, asked me questions about group size and vehicles and proceeded to process my credit card. She didn't say anything about the Giant Ball of Smoke hanging over the park until I asked "So, is that big ol' fire going to hinder us in anyway, is it safe?" and she looked at me for a second and said "Well, I guess it will." Guess they don't pay extra for dispensing useful safety information. "They're burning the whole backcountry up to the campsite you're headed to, you'll have to walk in a different way" Ok. So we headed in to the backcountry a different way. I made a point to stop and explain to the kiddywinks that we were following orange blazes and how to navigate double blazes and such. Then we headed off, happy hikers into the smoke. I was in front. I missed the first double blaze not more than 50 yards into the trail. We got lost on a mountain bike trail and ended up doing some dizzying loops that probably added up to 2 extra miles before we made it back to the start again. The kids said "Let's pretend we just started!!!" Yeah!! Best. Scouts. Ever. After that everything else went better. We had to do a lot of road walking, but at least we saw alligators in the drainage ditches. The kids got tired toward the last mile, but so did I. We made it, we all had a good time and at least it didn't rain.

Oh, and I finished my quals today. Hope I pass.

Cumberland Island Pictures

A present for all of you, the pictures that go with the cumberland post. You have to figure out what captions they belong to....It's a game!


















In other news: Quals were harder today. Got a bunch of conceptual questions from mfo. I definitely feel like brain omlette today. Came home and laid in the sunny yard with the dogs for an hour. It's about 65 degrees outside, which feels pretty nice in Miami.

Looking all over for good deals on Ireland tickets. Seems like you can ONLY get to Ireland from JFK and ONLY on an overnight flight. Gross. Dingle Way, here I come (www.dingleway.net)