Tedrow Drive

The New Digs.

2006-03-27T09:33:00.000-05:00

As has become customary, I'll start by apologizing for my lack of attention to Tedrow Drive. Much has happened since I last checked in with y'all. I have a meeting with the editor in chief of a major newspaper in the Boston area. I also have another meeting with the author that seems interested in my work. As far as writing goes, everything is chugging along just fine and dandy.

Scientifically, things are moving along fine. There's been some nasty politics swirling about here in the lab. To make a long story short, I was getting dragged into the fray and swiftly recused myself from the situation.

Now for the big news. The really, really big news. We bought our first home!!! Yup, you read that right. Vavoom Q. Citizen is now a homeowner. Our new place is in a fantastic part of Boston, not far from John Kerry's house (I shit you not). We got the place for a fantastic price.

It's interesting, life changes once you have a mortgage. Suddenly I feel "all grown up." We're nervous, but excited to close escrow in the next month or so. For whatever reason, I'm overjoyed with the notion of making simple repairs, redoing the bathrooms and having guests over. It seems like it will be a healthy distraction.

Now it's your turn -- what's your big news? How have you been?

Peter Pan.

2006-02-26T15:43:00.000-05:00

Every morning, I wake up with an increasingly large distaste for adults. I'm not sure why, but as I've grown older, I've developed a strong hatred for the features we adults hold in common -- selfishness, opportunism, racism and cruelty. My recent response has been to withdraw, retreat, isolate myself away from people.

As a consequence, it's made it difficult for me to wish to do anything for anyone. In adopting that attitude, am I not becoming the thing I hate the most?

It's strange, I no longer feel compelled to talk to people in the elevator or help someone that's dropped a bag of groceries. It's as if I'm watching a Polaroid picture of myself develop and my kindness is fading out, not in. Am I destined to be an asshole? Does being an adult necessitate behaving like most would?

If Only...

2006-02-24T23:32:00.000-05:00

The winter here has been relatively mild, so I'm told. In my naive opinion, it's still cold as hell. Wait, isn't hell hot? Never mind. In any case, above is a photo of Mujin Harbor in Turks and Caicos. Why they didn't build Fancypants University on a tropical island remains a mystery to me.

The World of Me.

2006-02-21T23:34:00.000-05:00

It's been a while. I've been overloaded with work and writing. The author I met with recently would like to meet again to discuss my progress. It's surprising that an accomplished writer would take an interest in my work. All appears well on that front.

Scientifically, things are going somewhat well. Not as well as the writing, but things are chugging along.

I'm also teaching this semester. It's an introductory course. Teaching freshman is always fun. They're motivated, excited and free of the bad habits that typically set in with older students. I've got a couple of ravenous pre-med students on my hands. Jesus, I spent 30 minutes today explaining to one of said students why losing two points really isn't the end of the world.

Not too long ago, I took a trip to Walden Pond. I sat and thought. About everything. About nothing. After stumbling across the above sign placed near Thoreau's cabin, I asked myself, "Have I lived deliberately? Have I really lived at all for that matter?" Having felt a bit spooked by the introspection induced by a simple sign, I started walking. I shook the disquieting prospect of my prior questions, by following them up with, "Has anyone?"

Down boy, DOWN!

2006-01-18T10:17:00.000-05:00

Normally, Prof. Bigshot has the group favorite take care of his house and dog while traveling. Well, the group favorite was also out of town. Guess who got to take care of the dog? Yeah, that's right. Me.

I've never owned a dog. I've had every other type of pet imaginable. Naturally, I was excited to take care of him.

As always, everything I do has a bizarre outcome. Behold:

The dog has a fixed schedule. At 6AM, he needs to be fed and given water. Immediately afterwards, he needs to go outside to poop. I got to the house a tad late. 6:30 AM. I turned off the alarm to Bigshot's palatial estate. As I entered, I went downstairs to let the dog out of his cage. Yes, he's kept in a cage all day. I know, it sucks. Anyways, I fed the dog, gave him water and decided to get him riled up before taking him for a walk. Why not? I mean, he's about to go outside. Let's get him excited, right?

Wrong.

I played with him for about half an hour. He started jumping around frantically. Suddenly he started sniffing the floor rather strangely. To my horror, he squatted down and decided to take a massive dump on Bigshot's floor. "No," I yelled out. Apparently he thought we were still playing. After stomping all over his crap, the dog then jumped up on me and started trying to hump me.

"Down boy, down!" He was having way too much fun spreading his seed and smearing poop all over me. Overtures of "bad dog," had little effect on his thrusting. Trust me, this is not my preferred brand of sex. Finally, he relented. Now there was shit all over me, the dog and the floor. Lovely.

I cleaned up the mess and took him for a long walk. Let me tell you, Bigshot's dog is one horny bastard. He also tried to mount a cocker spaniel during our one hour trip.

For some reason, I seem to think I'll score far lower on a purity test after all of that.

Where Is Vavoom?

2006-01-16T21:17:00.000-05:00

Well, as you probably realize, I've been an absentee landlord here on Tedrow Drive. What the hell is going on?

Well, I may have a huge opportunity to publish a fiction novel. Yes, you read that right. A very accomplished writer (think National Book Award) appears willing to help me get my work out there. Between experiments, teaching, courses and now this book, I just can't figure out how I'm going to find time to blog.

I'm committed to keep this blog running. I'm just not sure how this is all going to work out... Please be patient while I sort it all.

The Sliding Door.

2006-01-04T10:45:00.000-05:00

On my first day back to work, I woke up ready to take on anything. I slid out of bed and proceeded to conduct my morning rituals. You all know that I smoke. Yes, I've tried quitting. I typically go out on our tiny balcony for my morning smoke. When I say our balcony is tiny, I mean it. I measures about 9 inches in depth, 5 feet in width.

Like I was saying, I stepped out onto the balcony and lit up my cigarette. It was like any other morning. The birds were singing, below me I saw that the neighbors dog yet again managed to escape and was crapping all over my other neighbor's yard. That damn dog is always carrying a stick around. A couple times I've seen it crap with a stick in it's mouth. Not a bad way to go, if you're crapping.

I usually carry our cordless phone out with me during my morning smoke. Mrs. Vavoom usually calls to bid me good morning and I wouldn't want to miss that call. I'd finished up my smoke, turned slightly to open the sliding door. It was stuck. No matter how much I pulled on the damn thing, it wouldn't open.

I proceeded to put my weight into it. "Open, goddamn you!" As I pulled, the cordless phone slipped, falling into my downstair neighbor's yard. "Oh, shit!" Remember that dog that likes to chew on sticks? The one that craps all over everything? He mosied over to our phone and began mashing his teeth on it.

The phone rang. It must have been Mrs. Vavoom. Of course, the dog didn't seem to mind the ringing. He simply backed off the phone, started barking at it and then really laid into it with his teeth.

All of his barking woke my neighbor. He came out into his yard. "Get, get," he yelled at the dog. "Hi there," I responded, "Could you help me? You see that phone down there... the one the dog was chewing on? Yeah, could you throw it up to me? Also, I'm trapped, my sliding door won't open..."

He threw the phone up to me and replied, "I can't help you get in. If you haven't figured out a way in within a half an hour, I'll call the management." Having said that, he quickly retreated back into his apartment. "Wait, wait... can you call now," I pleaded. It was too late. He was gone.

I was wearing my pajama bottoms and my trusted North Face jacket. I searched the pockets of my jacket and... yes! Our group's leatherman was in my pocket! I was looking for it the last few days. I guess I put it in my jacket and forgot to return it.

I pulled off the side veneering on the door and accessed the lock. Presto-changeo, I was in.

I'm not saying that I live a glamorous life, but it does get interesting...

p.s. I'm having trouble accessing the photos from our trip to the Caribbean. I promise I'll post about our vacation.

Happy New Year!

2006-01-02T11:19:00.000-05:00

We're back from the Caribbean. We had a fanstastic trip. I'll post some photos later.

I want to wish you all a very happy new year!

Gone Diving.

2005-12-21T14:03:00.000-05:00

Well, finals are over and they went well (I think). Now we're off to the Caribbean for the next week. We'll be diving, snorkeling and finding out what this whole "irie" thing is all about. I'm excited to take a break. It's been a tough semester and I'm glad I made it through.

Have a fantastic Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, whatever. To be extra inclusive, to all of you Satanists out there, Happy Satan Day. (Does such a thing exist?)

Gone Fishin'

2005-12-19T07:21:00.000-05:00

I've got finals exams tommorrow, so blogging will have to take the backseat.

Have a great Monday.

The Scientific Bubble.

2005-12-16T19:10:00.000-05:00

I've said time and time again that I believe "hype" plays too large a role in scientific research. The general public typically hears about "good" science by reading the paper or watching the news. Often, such studies contain questionable practices and are lacking in scientific rigor.

One example is the current stem cell debacle in South Korea. Hwang Woo Suk is currently under fire for allegedly falsifying data claiming he has cloned human stem cells. Stem cell research, like nanotechnology, is a hot field. I've got people doing both types of research in the building I work in. In talking to students and faculty, I often hear a crap load of buzz words and very little actual substance.

What's the incentive to work in a hype filled field? Money. Funding abounds for flashy science. That begs the question, when will the scientific bubble burst?

The Call.

2005-12-15T09:39:00.000-05:00

My wife's grandmother and my grandmother were best friends back in the old country. Their friendship continued as they grew. They stuck by one another through school, marriage and the challenges of raising children. In fact, my wife's grandmother used to babysit my father when he was a toddler. She was devastated when my grandmother died, years before I was born.

Naturally, everyone was ecstatic to hear that my wife and I fell in love. It was all rather random. I was reintroduced to my wife at my brother's wedding. Her grandmother was so pleased. I'd never known what it was like to have a grandmother. I couldn't help but feel simultaneously cheated that I never grew up around my grandmother and fortunate to have been adopted by my wife's.

Two days ago, at 8 AM, the phone rang. My wife's grandmother died.

She was a wonderful person and I am heartened to know that her suffering is over and that she has moved on to a better place. Becoming acquainted with the joy of having a grandmother and then losing her is painful. I will never forget her.

The Jerk Sauce Caper.

2005-12-12T20:03:00.000-05:00

Mrs. Vavoom and I have decided to go to the Caribbean during our holiday break. We'll be there during the last week of December.

Yesterday, we ate at a well known barbecue joint in the Boston area. I noticed barbecue beef, sauteed in Caribbean jerk sauce on their menu. It sounded pretty good. Besides, what better way to celebrate our upcoming trip than to eat some tasty beef loaded with Caribbean goodness?

When the food arrived I looked down at my plate. It was sopping wet with jerk sauce. Man oh man, did it look good. I immediately shoveled a pile of it into my mouth. Suddenly, I felt a rush of heat. This stuff was spicy enough to raise the dead. It was too good to pass up. I quickly devoured it. It was so good that I grabbed an extra order to go. Sure, my stomach was screaming for help. C'mon, it's Caribbean barbecue...

I was restless that night. I simply couldn't sleep. At 4 AM, I decided to get up and have more of my delightful bovine meal. I polished off another serving of the stuff.

I slept 3 hours. As I walked into work I felt a severe pain in my stomach and lower intestines. "Oh no," I thought, "I know what this means." I needed to get into work. Still, I knew a restroom break was in order. When I arrived to work, I went straight for the toilet. Never before have I wanted to yell out in agony. For whatever reason, my delicious Caribbean meal was coming back to haunt me. It was the spiciest expulsion I've ever produced. Sore and distressed, I retreated back to my desk. If I could write a BASIC computer program to describe my day, it would go something like this:

10 PRINT "Enjoy being reverse sodomized by Caribbean spices today, Vavoom."
20 GOTO 10
RUN

I swear, it wouldn't stop. I spent a total of 12 hours rushing to the restroom and then back into the lab. Finally, I decided I needed to hustle home. As I walked, I felt a painful gurgle downstairs. "It must be gas," I thought.

I thought wrong.

I quickly clenched up and caught it before any unfortunate accident occurred. I looked down at the ground. Yup, it's covered in ice. Imagine trying to hold 20 gold doubloons up your ass, while trying to navigate across a slushy, icy mess. God, my 25 year record of not crapping my pants is at risk. I felt like Payton Manning, going for 16-0. I can't make a single mistake. Not one mistake. What the hell am I gonna do? Shuffle. Yes, shuffle. That's what my faithful readers suggested. Besides, shuffling and clenching aren't mutually exclusive activities. "Oh God, please don't let my streak end," I whispered, "Why does this shit always happen to me?" I shuffled slowly across the slick ground. Could it be? Yes! A patch of clear asphalt! I'm saved!

As I hustled across the asphalt I experienced the wrath of the fabled "black ice." I quickly learned that it does, in fact, exists. While squeezing tight, I felt myself slip. I can't tell you how I did it, but I fell without letting any of my recycled Caribbean meal loose. Now there's a new problem -- how the hell am I going to stand up without crapping myself?

A young couple approached me from behind. "Oh my God, are you alright?" "He's not moving, get your cell phone." "No, no, no," I replied, "I'm fine, I... I... I just need to get up slowly. I'll be fine, really." The guy helped me up. Problem solved.

The pressure was building. I really had to go. I shuffled over to a nearby convenience store, the spicy mess was slowly threatening to destroy my undefeated sphincter record. "Can I help you?" the clerk asked. "I need to use the restroom. It's an emergency, please." "I'm sorry, we don't have a restroom," he responded. "Listen," I pleaded, "I know you must have to take a crap during the day... you must have a bathroom... please, I really have to go." Suddenly a loud gurgle came from my intestines. The clerk's eyes widened. He looked at me like I just showed him that I had webbed feet. "Sure. Whatever. It's, it's, it's in the back," he responded.

I made it to the bathroom. I frantically started unwrapping myself. "Damn layers," I grumbled. In one fail swoop, I dropped my drawers and immediately sat down on the john. I was there for twenty minutes. I was breathing heavily, the spiciness of it was overwhelming. "Hey, you okay in there," I heard. "Yeah," I responded. "You better clean up after yourself," he yelled. I did so and quickly exited the store.

When I walked outside, I desperately wanted to drop my trousers and sit in the snow. Even as I write this, it still smarts. Still, my streak has been preserved.

Remind me not to eat any Caribbean food when we go to the Caribbean.

White Power.

2005-12-09T11:21:00.000-05:00

It's snowing here in Boston. It's absolutely gorgeous. Being a California boy, I really don't know how to handle myself well in the snow. Some examples:

1) I've fallen down once and have slipped about ten times trying to walk through this stuff. If anyone knows how to walk on compacted snow (ice), please let me know.

2) I decided I'd see what snow tastes like. While walking into work, I scooped up a small amount of the stuff and devoured it. Bad move. They had just salted the area and I shoved about ten million milligrams of salt into my mouth. Yummy.

3) While walking to work, I decided I'd readjust my scarf. The snow continued pouring down while I did this. Yet another mistake. The scarf ended up feeling wet and nasty on my neck. That's not much fun when it's freezing.

4) Do not ask fellow scientists to throw snowballs with you. Many that have done so with me end up throwing in a not so manly manner. You know, they lead with their elbow when they throw. Trust me, it's embarrassing.

5) You know my big winter jacket? You don't? The big green one? C'mon search your memory. Anyways, it really isn't very good unless I dress in layers beneath it. However, when I'm all bundled up, I can't even cross the street safely. It is absolutely impossible to turn my head to look at on coming traffic.

Help.

CRITICAL UPDATE: Sleet blows.

Devolving Arguments.

2005-12-08T09:04:00.000-05:00

Don't believe in evolution? Would you like to show everyone how magnificent God and creationism is? Hmmm, what to do... How about beating the living crap out of a university professor? Yeah, that's showin' them!

Are you as sick of the anti-evolution movement as I am? This is absolutely preposterous. If you're interested in learning more about evolution and debunking some of the ridiculous arguments made by anti-evolutionists, check out The Panda's Thumb. It's a fantastic resource.

Hot and Cold.

2005-12-05T15:33:00.000-05:00

Question: Can hot water freeze faster than cold water?

The answer is here.

Now it's your turn. Do you know any counter-intuitive facts?

Doubt.

2005-12-02T08:52:00.000-05:00

When John Patrick Shanley wrote the play, "Doubt," he had to know he was going to win the Pulitzer Prize. It is an absolute masterpiece. After another day of galavanting around Manhattan, we had the great opportunity to watch this magnificent production. I'm not sure how, but we landed front row seats. The acting was superb. I highly recommend you either watch or read this play.

Not convinced? Check out this review.

News Flash!!!

2005-12-01T09:42:00.000-05:00

Sea Lampreys scare the living crap out of me.

What sort of things scare the crap out of you?

(Sorry, I'm taking a break from the New York posts... I'll continue those tomorrow.)

Darwin, Welles and the Evolving Ego.

2005-11-30T10:03:00.000-05:00

We spent last Friday at the American Museum of Natural History. I'd been to New York many times, but never made the time to go to this venue. Without a doubt, it's the most impressive scientific museum I've ever seen. Typically, scientific museums cater to small children, making it somewhat boring for adults. This museum has something for everyone. In particular, the new Darwin exhibit is absolutely amazing.

The interesting thing is, Darwin waited over twenty years to publish his work on natural selection. Why? Apparently he was frightened that he would be made a pariah in the scientific community. In a sense, his ego prevented him from publishing one of the greatest scientific discoveries in the history of mankind. As you walk through the exhibit, you can see Darwin's original writings on evolution. It's absolutely magnificent.

We walked through the museum, which spans four blocks. I witnessed the diversity of life, reminding myself that I was in the largest city in the United States. "The world is a big place," I thought to myself. On the contrary, as we entered the planetarium, I remembered how small the world is, in context of the many galaxies present in our universe.

Having frolicked through the museum, we got a quick dinner and went to "Orson's Shadow," a play focusing on the egotistical struggle between Orson Welles and Laurence Olivier during their attempted production of Ionesco's "Rhinoceros." This production brilliantly depicted how two men could evolve into egotistical maniacs, consistently trying to out do one another.

I left the play thinking how our ever evolving egos can be kept in check if only we consider the size of the world, the interconnected network that bonds us all and our place in the universe. Perspective, methinks, comes from deep evaluation of scale.

Cookin' With Bobby Flay.

2005-11-29T08:25:00.000-05:00

The train ride to New York was easy enough. If you take the MTA, a one way ticket will cost you $14 from New Haven. If you take Amtrak, you'll spend $77. Can anybody guess which train we took? Both arrive at New Haven at exactly the same time. It's no wonder that Amtrak is a bust.

When we arrived we walked around Times Square. It had been a while since I'd been to New York. It's such an amazing place. The funny thing was, it was impossible to walk on the sidewalks. They were jammed with tourists saying things like "Wow, look a Hard Rock Cafe!" Note -- I was one of these tourists. I found myself marveling in the sights, sounds and yes, even the smells associated with Manhattan.

It was Thanksgiving day. We had missed the parade, but I hear it was of the "contact sport" variety. We had dinner at Bobby Flay's Bar Americain. The food was absolutely amazing. I'd like to tell you that Bobby Flay came right up to our table and hung out with us. No, that's not what happened. Instead, some lady at the table next to ours decided that looking at me incessantly and disapprovingly shaking her head would be a good way to enjoy her meal.

I swear, she did it 20 times. Was there a booger hanging out of my nose? Had I unwittingly soiled myself? What was her deal? Then I heard her say, in a thick syrupy accent, "Ah never thought we'd be sittin' next ta' one a them." She must have been refering to my status as a graduate student. Nobody likes to have Thanksgiving dinner next to a graduate student, right? It couldn't have been the color of my skin? Nah, she just didn't like the fact that I was a scientist. Yeah, that's it.

I leaned into the table and whispered loudly to Mrs. Vavoom, "Man, prejudiced people are such assholes. They can't even enjoy Thanksgiving without being insulting." The woman perked up. I thought to myself, "Yeah, that's right bitch. I heard you." Mrs. Vavoom then said loudly, "I heard what she said too, Vavoom. Do you want to move tables?" I can't tell you why, but I looked at my wife and we started laughing uncontrollably. Everytime I looked over at the lady next to us, I couldn't help it, I cracked up. We laughed until we cried. Soon enough, they moved to another table. Good Riddance.

Would you like to hear about the amazing time we had the next day? Tune in tomorrow... (Am I a tease or what?)

The Breakdown.

2005-11-28T10:03:00.000-05:00

We hopped in our car, enthusiastic to get to New York City. We'd both been there many times, but this was a special occasion. I made a huge leap with my experiment on Wednesday night and for the first time, our vacation would be absent my typical concerns about science.

It was dumping snow along the 84. Suddenly, we heard a loud boom and something drop out from under the car. "Holy shit," I yelled out. We pulled over in New Haven, Connecticut, the home of Yale University. The power steering was giving out and we just made it into a gas station.

I opened the hood. The serpentine belt had come off and the radiator fan had shattered against the radiator. "This is just fucking great," I screamed. Suddenly, I felt a snowball hit me in the back. My wife started laughing as she ran for cover. There we were, at a random gas station, having the snowball fight of the century.

Half an hour later, covered in snow, we called AAA. We had the car towed out to a tow yard that also had a mechanic on site. He promised he'd have the car ready for us by Sunday night. How the hell did we get to Manhattan? You guessed it -- we took the train.

What adventures awaited us in New York? Stay tuned, I'll have more for you tomorrow...

Nerdy Fun.

2005-11-23T14:17:00.000-05:00

If comic books weren't nerdy enough already, Nature Publishing Group has come out with it's own comic entitled "Adventures in Synthetic Biology." As someone that loves science and comic books, I'm in heaven.

The Trip.

2005-11-23T09:53:00.000-05:00

You're 3,000 miles away from home, in a hostile land where the weather is cold and the drivers are mean. Where do you go for Thanksgiving? That's right, New York City! Me and Mrs. Vavoom will be staying in Times Square, hanging out with David Letterman, Howard Stern and Michael Bloomberg.

We've planned out the trip and we're going to have a fantastic time. I've needed a nice long break. These next four days will serve that purpose. Don't worry, I'll take plenty of pictures and post them when I get back. Before then, give me some suggestions of what you'd like to see pictures of. I'll do my best to provide. Also, tell me what your plans are for the holiday.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Go Stowers!

2005-11-22T11:04:00.000-05:00

The Howard Hughes Medical Institute supports the activities of hundreds of biomedical labs across the country and abroad. For years, this organization was the premiere private granting institution. Their goal was clear -- provide funding to labs conducting risky research that doen't traditionally receive funding from the federal government. It's been a huge success, funding some of the most successful research within the biomedical world.

Enter Jim Stowers, the founder of American Century Investments. Stowers and his wife, Virginia, are loaded. They decided to begin their own organization, the Stowers Institute, similar to HHMI. They've built a massive research campus in Kansas City and are now recruiting and funding the best and brightest in biomedical research.

It's certainly good to see filthy rich people putting their money to good use.

Smart Reading.

2005-11-21T11:18:00.000-05:00

Wanna feel like you haven't done anything with your life? Read this.

UPDATE: Commenters have the right idea here. Your task now is to write an overly flattering bio of yourself. Do it, damn you!!!

Domination.

2005-11-20T09:57:00.000-05:00

That's four in a row!

Spamming Evil Spirits.

2005-11-18T08:08:00.000-05:00

Like the rest of you, I get heaps of spam a day. Spam for me comes in three varieties. Most of them are Turkish. I have no idea why, but someone has decided that Vavoom Q. Citizen is fond of Turkish porn. Hence I get about 10 of these e-mails per day.

The other kind of spam that I get is from prospective students wishing to attend Fancypants University. This is actually rather bizarre. When I was at Berkeley, I never received any e-mails from strangers asking, "How did you get in? What was your GPA? Please review and correct my resume." I try to be nice and give them my suggestions, but I received three of these e-mails yesterday. I honestly don't have time to correct three resumes and give them an honest evaluation.

Finally, I keep getting the same damn spam message over and over again, every day. Here's a snippet:

Dear, friend!
Don't hesitate to contact us, if you are facing one or more of the following problems. Within few minutes, we'll make your life cool and calm.
Bad-mannered Husband / Wife Hurdles in Love Marriages
Demon's Effects Improper Love Affairs
Family Disputes Bounded Business
Sexual Diseases Effects of Evil Spirit
Infertility Unemployment
Psyche Problems Adversity
Study Problems Visa Problems
Property Disputes Other Problems

Thank God! Finally, I can get help for my sexual diseases and effects of evil spirit! Now, if only someone would spam me offering decent spam blocking software...

Tell me, what's your favorite spam?

My Achy Breaky Head.

2005-11-17T11:40:00.000-05:00

I've mentioned before that my sleep cycle has been regulated. Well, as a result of getting a full 8 hours of sleep a night, I'm now waking up with excruciating headaches. Fantastic, huh?

What makes having a monster headache particularly fun is having to meet with collaborators and have a well thought out coherent conversation. The conversation went something like this:

C1: So, I think the variation in our signal is because of x, y and z.
V: Uh huh.
C2: Yeah and we're confident that our results tell us that blah blah blah...
V: Uh huh.
C1: Isn't that amazing?
V: Uh huh.
C2: So what do you think would be a good next step, Vavoom?
V: Uh huh.

God help me, I couldn't get more than an "uh huh" out. Now I'm off to class. I have a strange suspicion that won't get much out of it.

Deconstructing George.

2005-11-16T10:51:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling a tad ornery today. Could someone please tell me what George W. Bush has done well? We're trapped in an ill advised war, current government spending is bordering on recklessness, religious conservatism is deeply intertwined with public policy and unethical practices abound (read: torture and CIA leaks).

It's not surprising that W's numbers are down. It's not clear what he's doing well.

I never supported the war in Iraq. I've always stood against government bloat and spending. I dislike the typical "I told you so" mentality that most liberals are taking, but for God's sake wasn't it clear all of this was coming? Conservatives often claim that Democrats don't have ideas. I tend to think having no ideas is better than implementing bad ideas.

I'm asking for your objective opinion. What has George W. Bush done well?

GRRRRR!!!

2005-11-15T11:44:00.000-05:00

About two weeks ago I proposed an experiment to Prof. Bigshot. It was a great idea and Bigshot agreed. Suddenly, Bigshot did a 180 on me and decided it wasn't a good experiment. I just found out that Bigshot has farmed out my idea to another faculty member's group. When I went to class today, this is what I overheard:

I1: Man, so it's a completely new way to probe the system... what a great idea!
I2: Yeah, Prof. Bigshot talked to Prof. SoSo and I get to try the experiment. It's going to be an amazing collaboration.
I1: Dude, you are so lucky... these Fancypants profs have the best fucking ideas.
I2: I know, I know... They're going to write an entire grant around this experiment.

I kept listening. Yup, it was the experiment I proposed. I counted to ten about 5 times. I was still pissed off. What did Vavoom learn today? Keep your mouth shut, do the experiment and then scream the results to the world.

Providence.

2005-11-14T09:29:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure what's caused this change. I'm as happy as I've been in a long while. Ahh, the roller coaster that is my life. I took the entire weekend off. We spent Saturday running around Boston and went to Providence, Rhode Island on Sunday. A little R and R was just what the doctor ordered.

Just outside Brown University, in a small cafe, I saw a man crying. He was sobbing uncontrollably. Strangely, the people in the cafe didn't even glance in his direction. I stood outside the cafe, staring at him for a while. I knew where he was. I've been there many times.

He looked up from his frothy drink and stared at me. His eyes swollen and red, his cheeks glazed with tears. I smiled, nodded and worded, "It's going to be okay." He returned a smile and added, "Eventually. Thank you."

Now that I'm feeling better (yes my recovery is ongoing, but dramatic), I feel the need to help others that might be in the same position I've been in for so long. Who's to say that me, a one time miserable wretch, could help anyone get through their saddened state? I can certainly try. Ultimately, we're all helped through tough times by divine providence. Whether that be through the action of a stranger outside of a coffee shop, a friend late at night or a concerned family member, it all makes a difference. I often wonder, are we all God's hands? Does goodness come from the simple actions of decent people? Or do you believe divine intervention comes through larger, undetectable means?

Punishment.

2005-11-11T08:35:00.000-05:00

Yes, I was randomly called on for a "chalk talk" at group meeting yesterday. This time, I was ready. I had planned out how I was going to present my work and all of the subsequent issues I'm having with my project. I laid it out logically.

Questions flew. I shot them down. It was fantastic. No matter how they nit picked, no matter what they did, I had the right answer. I doled out some added punishment to group members that hammered on me the last time I was called up.

I walked home with a little extra bounce in my step. I'm feeling confident, very confident. The more time I spend here, the more I realize that I can do this. I can't say this was the greatest victory I've ever had, but certainly it was pretty good.

I pose to you the following question -- Tell me, what's your greatest victory?

Group Meeting.

2005-11-10T11:12:00.000-05:00

Oh, lucky me. Bigshot has come back into town and is in the worst mood I've ever seen. Normally I wouldn't care, but I've caught wind that I'll have to give another chalk talk today at group meeting. Compiling to all of that is the fact that we'll have another faculty guest. The guest, Prof. Megalomaniac, hails from Berkeley and is known to tear people to shreds during their meetings. Lovely.

It's just one tidal wave after another...

Hey, Superman!

2005-11-09T09:03:00.000-05:00

You've all seen Superman II. You know, the one where Superman battles three super villains all dressed in black. It's one of my favorite movies. There's a scene in particular that always cracks me up. Ursa, the evil female super villain calls out, "Hey, Superman" and proceeds to launch a manhole cover into Superman's chest. Whatever the context, I always tried to fit that line into conversations I had with friends. Strange, I know, but it used to crack me up.

A few days ago, my close friend called me from Southern California. "Hey, I want you to hear something." The phone was fumbled a bit, then I heard it. His adorable 3 year old son got on the phone and said, "Hey, Superman!" I began laughing hysterically. My friend got back on the phone, "We thought you'd get a kick out of that."

It was a small gesture, but it made my night. It got me thinking, my friends are trying so hard. They're doing everything they can to help me through this rough patch. I'm lucky. They're all so busy and yet they're trying their best to make sure I know they're there for me. My family is doing likewise. My siblings call me daily, just to make sure I'm doing alright.

The saying goes, when one leg of a table is gone, it's the other three that keep it standing. I now realize how true that is.

Starts With A C, Ends with A P.

2005-11-08T12:47:00.000-05:00

I just finished giving a 2 hour talk to a room full of 100 people. I was up all night preparing. God, I'm so tired. I feel like crap. Need sleep. Unfortunately, I need to stay at work and get some data. Bigshot is coming back into town and I need to complete my proof that the experiment is off the ground.

What do you folks do when you have to work and you're dead tired? Coffee -- I've tried that. Speed -- no thanks.

ZZZZZZ....

2005-11-07T09:48:00.000-05:00

You normal people have it good. Really. This weekend I got 8 hours of sleep per night. 8 hours! I've never been so well rested. I'll remind you that I normally get 3-4 hours of sleep per night. The health clinic gave me some gangbusters good medicine that helps regulate my sleep schedule. Wow, you guys are so lucky to be able to sleep normally.

Before the weekend's begin I finally got my experiment to work! Yes!!! I've been fighting with this crazy ass project, tooth and nail. Finally I've got it going. Thank God.

In addition to all of that, my friends were visiting this weekend. That was, perhaps, the best medicine I could have taken. We scooted around Boston, visited some good bookstores, ate at fancy restaurants and had a good time in general.

It's been a while since I've been able to provide an upbeat post. Well, mark your calendars... today is the day. I can't guarantee that I'll be alright tomorrow, but I can promise you this -- today is going to be a good day. I guess that's the best any of us can do.

Aftershock.

2005-11-04T09:58:00.000-05:00

It was an urgent visit. I needed to be there. It was, in fact, the first time that I ever felt like I needed to be carted off in a straightjacket. He was an old man, his tie looked like it was from the seventies. We had been talking for an hour already, then came the big questions:

Dr. C: Can you tell me, Mr. Vavoom, are you in danger of hurting yourself?

V: I'm smart enough to know that you'll put me in a 5150 hold if I say yes. Thus the answer is no.

Dr. C: I'm serious, are you going to harm yourself or anyone else?

V: No.

Dr. C: Well, I'm going to be frank with you. Your diagnosis is rather severe and that's why we've decided to handle this a bit differently.

V: I see.

Dr. C: Vavoom, you suffer from severe posttraumatic stress disorder. It's the worst I've ever seen in a student.

V: What qualifies you to make that diagnosis?

Dr. C: 30 years of working with veterans.

V: Oh... okay... I think I want a second opinion. All of this sounds like bullshit.

Dr. C: Well, that's just it. You've seen three people here. All of them have independently provided the same diagnosis.

V: Oh.

Dr. C: Listen, you went through something very terrible and for a long, long time you've been living like this. It's time to fix that.

V: I don't have posttraumatic stress disorder. How is that possible?

Dr. C: We can go into that next time. For now, I'm supposed to determine if you need hospitalization.

V: Oh Jesus Fucking Christ, give me break. I come here to get help and you guys are trying to throw me in a fucking looney bin?

Dr. C: Hang on, hang on. When I first looked at your records, I was convinced that I'd need to place you under supervised care. I was a bit surprised after talking to you. You're a very funny guy. You're very kind, warm and witty. I ask myself, 'How has this guy been able to do all of this given everything that's happened to him in his life? How the hell did he survive a childhood like that? How is it possible that he's accomplished so much? Why is he so well adjusted?' Do you want to know the answer?

V: Dazzle me with your insight.

Dr. C: You're strong. Very strong. Stronger than 99% of the people that I've seen. You're in a terrible slump. You've been in that terrible slump for a while. Yet, every morning you get up, work 16 hours a day, go home, study and keep moving along. You do this 7 days a week, despite your sadness. Now it's time to slow down and let someone help you. You have a severe problem and it needs to be addressed. You've got everything going for you, kid. Everything. Let me help you.

V: Wait, did you just call me kid? What is this, some cheesed out Hollywood movie?

Dr. C: Hahahahaha. See... that's funny.

V: Yeah, I'm a regular Rodney Dangerfield.

Dr. C: What do you say? Let's start working through this. I'll help you. How does tomorrow afternoon look for you?

I stopped and pondered that question for a while. Thoughts ran through my head like a swarm of bees. Do I want to dredge it all up? I'm over all of it, right? Besides, he's not going to be able to help, just look at his tie for God's sake. What if he can? Will all of it stop? Finally I answered:

V: Yes. Tomorrow afternoon sounds good.

Dr. C: I won't let you down.

Friendship.

2005-11-03T10:32:00.000-05:00

I'm fortunate to have good friends. I must say, having left most of them behind in Berkeley has been a trying experience. Like any long distance relationship, communication lags, understanding wanes and availability is an issue.

One problem I've had to deal with is finding the means of appropriately discussing my unhappiness with them. I'm no longer an integral part of their lives. I don't know about their broken down car, their new sofa that won't fit through the door and the like. I often struggle to discuss my personal matters without feeling intrusive or creating a burden.

I have to be honest. I am as depressed as I've ever been. Several factors are contributing to this downward spiral. The loss in locality of my friends has been a major one. Sure, I've met a few people here. Still, I can't seem to find time to meet too many. Normally, if my experiment wasn't working, I could simply walk across the hall or down a flight of stairs and talk shop with my friends. I'm clearly not in that type of situation now.

It's all rather sad. Two close friends have come to visit me from Berkeley. I picked them up from the airport. As they approached my car, I nearly burst out in tears. My lacrimals were at work for two reasons. On one hand, I was elated to see them. On the other, I was already sad that they'll be leaving soon. I'm not planning on deeply discussing my personal problems with them while they're here. I really want them to simply have fun and relax.

It's interesting, even my blog numbers sag when I discuss my misery. Nobody likes a wet blanket. Unfortunately, when dealing with me these days that's all I seem to be able to offer.

The Horror.

2005-11-02T09:13:00.000-05:00

We have a single user restroom for our entire lab. It's a feature common to many labs here at Fancypants University. It has all the amenities you'd expect in a single user restroom -- toilet paper, butt gaskets, clean toilet, sink, etc. The only thing that's lacking is a reliable latch on the door.

This morning I strolled into the restroom, prepared to conduct my morning defecation ritual. When I was finished wiping, I just wasn't as clean as I'd like to be. So, I decided that I would carry out an age old solution to the dirty butt syndrome. I wet the toilet paper. Yes, you heard it here first, I wet the toilet paper and then use it. It's a single user restroom. Nobody's going to see me, right?

I stood over the toilet, reaching over to wet the paper in the sink and then use it. Just as I reached over to wet one final time, the bathroom door opens. It's Prof. Bigshot. Bigshot yelled out in horror, "Oh Jesus, Vavoom!" When the door closed, I heard Bigshot ask, "What the hell are you doing in there?" "I'll be done in a minute," I responded, "Just give me a minute..."

When I left the bathroom, Bigshot was outside with two other faculty members. Apparently they were all headed somewhere and Bigshot wanted to stop off at the bathroom. I can't tell you why, but the disgusted look on their faces made me erupt in laughter. I couldn't stop. I'm still chuckling as I write this.

My advisor has now seen me naked and knows that I wet my toilet paper. I've also managed to disgust another two faculty members in one day. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Implicit Bias.

2005-11-01T11:29:00.000-05:00

Are human beings inherently judgmental? Of course, you'll respond. Yet how can you prove that? Social scientists at Harvard University have developed a system to test whether or not an individual is implicitly biased against a given group or concept. Check the site out and see for yourself.

This leads me to our topic du jour -- Does our increasingly politically correct way of life mask society's problems? Imagine a prejudiced person (if you don't know one, look in the mirror... we're all prejudiced), is it really a good idea for that person to mask their true beliefs for the sake of sparing another's feelings? Or is it better to openly express your feelings and address them in public?

Sweet Caroline.

2005-10-31T10:50:00.000-05:00

What can I say? New Hampshire is beautiful. I forgot to bring my digital camera, so you'll have to take my word for it. The entire group went to this conference. No, I didn't sleep on the floor. I stood my ground and made Senior Dumbass take the floor.

On Saturday night, our group had a party in a labmate's room. While I sat around, I noticed the high school mentality that seems so pervasive in this research group. The popular kids hung out with Prof. Bigshot. The losers were banished to sit the party out. Guess where Vavoom was? Yup, I was a wallflower extraordinaire. Even when I tried to talk to the "popular" guys, they wouldn't even acknowledge what I said. It was weird, I'd say something, they'd just look at me with a disgusted look on their face and continue conversing with one another.

I decided I'd leave the party and find some reasonable people with whom to spend my time. As I walked downstairs and into the bar, I saw Q. He was dressed up as one of the Crazy 88s from Kill Bill. He was all alone, staring down into his scotch. You'll remember that Q is pretty unhappy with the group.

V: Hey Q, how are you?
Q: Sad. Pretty sad.
V: Why? What's wrong?
Q: I just can't make friends with the people in our group. I can't do it. It's as if I don't even exist to them.
V: I hear you. I have the same problem. But, hey, there's a room loaded with people dancing next door. Why worry about, and waste your time with, people that don't appreciate you?
Q: I don't know... I'm just so miserable working around these people.
V: But we're not working now. They're not even here. Why let them determine your happiness? I'll say it again -- there are 100 people next door dancing and having a good time. Why aren't you one of them?

Q was quiet for a while. Suddenly he said, "You're right, Vavoom. Fuck those people upstairs. I'm going to be happy tonight." He chugged down his scotch and quickly walked out of the bar and into the ballroom. Five minutes later, I heard the music diminish. I got up and walked over to the dance floor. There I saw Q, up on the stage with the DJ. "What the hell is he doing," I wondered. Suddenly the music started again and I heard from Q:

"Where it began, I can't begin to know when
But then I know it's growing strong
Oh, wasn't the spring, whooo
And spring became the summer
Who'd believe you'd come along

Hands, touching hands, reaching out
Touching me, touching you
Oh, sweet Caroline
Good times never seem so good..."

He began singing to the entire party. It was amazing. Let me tell you, this had all the makings of a Napolean Dynamite scene. The entire crowd sang along with him. It was incredible, people were swaying back and forth with their hands in the air. At the song's conclusion, he received an uproarious ovation.

I could see it in his eyes, he was happy.

Why couldn't I follow my own advice? Why wasn't I up on the stage or on the dance floor? I went for a long walk outside. The air was cool and I felt alone. "Snap out of it, Vavoom," I kept telling myself. "No, not tonight. I'm not going to be miserable tonight." I ran back to the dance floor. When the party ended, I was still sad. At least for a couple hours, though, I was happy doing the train and the electric slide.

Headline News.

2005-10-28T08:58:00.000-05:00

Have any of you watched a full half hour of CNN's headline news? Good Lord, it's terrible. It's clear that CNN has been trying to reach out to a younger demographic through headline news. I just watched them do a bit about whether or not a guy could beat a monkey in NFL picks. What the hell? Is stupidity really an effective outreach tactic for news organizations? What's your take on the dumbing down of mainstream television news?

In other news: The exam went well. Thanks for all of your kind comments. I'm headed up to New Hampshire this afternoon for a conference. I'll be there all weekend. I'm sharing a room with 3 of my labmates. Yes, you read that right, 3 labmates. I just received an e-mail from a labmate: "Guys, I just realized I screwed up. There are only two beds in our room. Since I scheduled the room, I think I'm entitled to one of the beds. We'll figure out who gets the other bed when we get there." I'm excited to see New Hampshire and I'm equally excited to find a room with a bed. Have a great weekend!

Dressing Up Or Down?

2005-10-27T07:35:00.000-05:00

I'm short on time today. As such I'll ask you the following "insightful" questions:

1) What are you going to be for halloween this year?
2) If you aren't going to be anything for halloween this year, what would you like to be? What are your kids going to dress up as?
3) Searching your personal history, tell me -- what was your best Halloween outfit?

My answers:

1) Sadly I have no costume this year.
2) Hurricane Vavoom. (A tough costume to make, but cool nonetheless)
3) I was once a gigantic slice of pizza. Now that was totally rad. (We used the word "rad" alot back in those days.)

Alright. Now it's your turn. C'mon, get involved!

The Workplace Curse.

2005-10-26T07:29:00.000-05:00

It's just not possible. I've tried and tried. I simply cannot get any studying done while I'm in the lab. Yes, I have a nice desk, I'm well isolated. Still, every 10 minutes someone is bothering me. "Vavoom, could you take a look at this?" "Vavoom, did you hear about so and so?" "Vavoom, would you like to shoot a poison arrow through my heart?"

I'm officially stressed out. I've got a huge exam tomorrow and I am nowhere near ready. Honest. I am sort of screwed. Thus, I'm staying home today and studying my ass off. It's sad, but staying home is my only chance. If I step foot into the lab, some craptastic waste of time will be foisted upon me.

Take yesterday as an example. I'm at my desk, trying to study. Along comes Prof. Bigshot, "Vavoom, can you give group meeting today?" "Uhhh... well... I have an exam coming up and I'd really rather not..." "Great, it doesn't have to be a long group meeting. I appreciate it." I don't think my polite "no thank you" even registered with Bigshot. Afterwards a labmate came by, "Vavoom, can you believe that Bigshot is making me help out with that grant? I mean, blah blah blah blah blah..." "I have an exam, dude. Let's talk about this later." "Oh, sorry. I forgot you were studying. You know, I remember when I was taking this class and Bigshot blah blah blah blah blah..."

Pray for me. An email has just shown up in my inbox. It's from Bigshot. The first line says, "Could you come by my office soon? I have an interesting idea for you." Please Lord, please. Let me just find time to study in a quiet place.

I'm Melting!

2005-10-25T06:06:00.000-05:00

Q: What do you get when you combine remnants of Wilma and a powerful noreaster?
A: A very wet Vavoom.

Good God. Somebody has got to fix the sidewalks around here. Getting to work this morning resembled a steeplechase. I'm now walking around with that not-so-fresh-squishy-sneakers feeling.

I've never been a big fan of the rain. Color me negative, but I can't stand walking around, getting wet, while everyone insists on poking me in the eye with their open umbrella. Another thing -- if you're walking around with an umbrella and I'm not, please refrain from walking under awnings. You've got an umbrella. I have nothing. Give me at least 30 seconds of dry time under an awning. No, there really isn't enough room for two people to walk beneath it.

Here's the funny thing -- Prof. Bigshot always tries to play up how great the weather is here at Fancypants University. "Boy, oh boy... I sure love this little downpour... it brings so much character to the place." Right, right, everybody sopping wet, cold 40 mph gusts hammering you in the face whilst you walk. Character. Right. The best comment from Bigshot, ever: "Just think of all the work you can get done here in lab while the weather's like this... man, you guys are going to be soooo productive!"

In other news, I have a massive exam on Thursday. Massive. I can honestly say that the courses at Fancypants University are about as good as the weather here. At least I knew the weather would blow. The shoddy courses are rather surprising. I'm thinking of dropping an anonymous note to the instructor for one of my classes. During every episode of his class, Terrible Teaching 101, I feel like I'm getting sodomized with a tire iron. Yes, it's that bad. I'm trying to figure out some fun activities to do during Terrible Teaching 101. Any suggestions?

The Winter Of My Content.

2005-10-24T09:30:00.000-05:00

I could bemoan my situation. I could lapse into a perpetual state of solitude and misery. I could decide to simply give in, be sad. Alternatively, I can do everything in my power to make the best of my situation.

I've chosen the latter.

I took the entire weekend off. I rarely rest. This weekend I needed it. I spent some time evaluating my situation. It's really not that bad. In fact, everything is fine. I've decided to do the following things to combat my despondency:

1) Exercise -- You heard me right. I even brought a gym bag to work with me this morning.

2) Hobby -- I need something that can help me take my mind off of the vicissitudes of graduate life. I've signed up for rowing instruction. Once a week I'm hitting the Charles River. Yes, I've traded in my surfboard for a boat. Let's see how it goes.

3) Labeling -- I have a tendency to label everything as "good" or "bad." No more. Rather, I'm going to accept the situation I'm in and continue to work hard. I've found that struggling against things I can't change expends way too much of my emotional fuel. You may now call me, Zen Master Vavoom.

4) Schedule, Schedule, Schedule -- I'm going to be much more diligent with my time. Often, I get wrapped up in frustrating discussions with frustrating people. That's a thing of the past. If you're not on the schedule and your pissing me off, forget it -- you're banned. I'm working towards the establishment of daily routines that will make things more manageable. Taking breaks is all a part of the schedule.

5) Be Forgiving -- Not just of others, but also myself. I'm pretty damn hard on myself and everyone around me. No longer will I focus on the shortcomings of myself and others. Rather, I'll look for the good in everyone and try to be more understanding of their flaws.

6) Stay Mindful -- Remaining observant of my emotional state has helped me, in a major way, in the past. Allowing myself to be engulfed by the day's drama, absent a watchful eye, has always been my downfall. I'll do my best to simply watch my emotional state. I won't judge it. For some reason, being aware of how I'm feeling helps me deal with it.

7) Right Now -- I'll let the past be the past and the future be the future. It's amazing how much energy I spend worrying about what has happened or will happen. It's all about the here and now.

8) Wash, Rinse and Repeat -- I'll do my best to remind myself of the above. Indeed, people are like pianos; we always need to be re-tuned.

Now it's your turn -- what sort of things do you do to combat sadness? What helps you keep your head on straight?

Moral Judgements.

2005-10-21T10:39:00.001-05:00

There's a great article in the August edition of The Believer (my all time favorite magazine). It's an interview with Jonathan Haidt, Professor of Psychology at the University of Virginia. Haidt has an interesting notion of how humans make moral judgements. He postulates that "reason is the press secretary of emotions." To clarify, Haidt believes that reasoning comes only after a moral judgement is made. That is, we make our decisions based upon emotion or instinct first and then use reasoning to justify our judgements. From the article:

"Reason is still a part of the process. It just doesn’t play the role that we think it does. We use reason, for example, to persuade someone to share our beliefs. There are different questions: there’s the psychological question of how you came by your beliefs. And then there’s the practical question of how you’re going to convince others to agree with you. Functionally, these two may have nothing to do with one another. If I believe that abortion is wrong, and I want to convince you that it’s wrong, there’s no reason I should recount to you my personal narrative of how I came to believe this. Rather, I should think up the best arguments I can come up with and give them to you. So I think the process is very much the same as what a press secretary does at a press conference. The press secretary might say that we need tax cuts because of the recession. Then, if a reporter points out to him that six months ago he said we needed tax cuts because of the surplus, can you imagine the press secretary saying: “Ohhhh, yeah, you’re right. Gosh, I guess that is contradictory.” And then can you imagine that contradiction changing the policy?"

Do you agree with Haidt's hypothesis? Do we toil over moral matters merely to rationalize the judgements we've already made?

If you read the article, you'll also find that Haidt's hypothesis extends into the political arena. To what extent do you think moral motivation plays a critical role in American policy making? Do our notions of conservatives or liberals being "bad" make any sense, given that the policies of both sides are geared towards a perception of "good?"

Shameless.

2005-10-21T08:13:00.000-05:00

I'm doing two shameless activities right now:

1) Finishing a problem set at exactly the eleventh hour.
2) Listening to Spandeau Ballet while doing #1.

I know this much is... true.

You Make Me Sick.

2005-10-20T08:46:00.000-05:00

I've been working on a bitch of an experiment since I arrived at Fancypants University. I'm pleased to report that I've finally got it working. I checked the data, it's all good. One would think such results warrant a slowdown in my schedule. Nope. In fact, now I have to step on it if I'm going to push my project through. There's talk of a solid publication, it's kind of a big deal.

In other news, I'm falling sick again. These virus monkeys, a.k.a. my coworkers have been spreading a terrible plague. I'm next, so it seems. I don't know why, but whenever I start getting sick I try and pull cheesy mind over matter crap. Here I am, sitting at my desk, pretending I'm Wayne Dyer, Anthony Robbins, Norman Vincent Peale and Zig Ziglar all wrapped into one -- "No, I'm not getting sick, this positive thinking is going to stop it. That's right, my immune system is unstoppable. In fact, I've never been sick before, yeah, yeah, that's right."

While I'm in denial, please send your care packages to:

Vavoom Q. Citizen
Department of Pseudoscience
Fancypants University
Anytown, MA 05321

I'll need loads of kleenex, orange juice, zinc lozenges and chicken soup. That's if I were getting sick... but we all know that I'm not going to get sick... yeah, yeah, that's right.

What Drives You?

2005-10-19T09:56:00.000-05:00

Man, yesterday was amazing. My advisor was extraordinarily nice to me. My labmates sung me happy birthday, gave me a monster gift and threw me a huge party. Afterwards, they all hoisted me up on their shoulders and carried me all the way home. It was amazing, I came home early and got plenty of rest.

No, it didn't happen that way. In fact, it was just the opposite. Take the antithesis of the above and that was my 30th birthday. I came home tired and monumentally unhappy. My parents called, I heard the story, but this time I had a different response. "Mom, who cares? Who cares about people? They're nasty, selfish and worthless. Why should I help anyone? Look at all the terrible people I work with... should I really help them? Aren't they just like everyone else in this world? I mean, what's the point? I can be as good as I want and that's not going to change anything..."

There was a long pause on my parents end. It was as if both were taking a deep breath. My Father responded, "What drives you, Vavoom?" "Huh?" "What drives you?" "Dad, what does that have to do with anything?" "What drives you? What keeps you around?" "Honestly, I don't know... I honestly don't know..." I broke down sobbing on that, my 30th birthday, "I just don't think life is worth it anymore..."

My Mother said, "Breathe, Vavoom. Breathe." My Father then said, "Find your center, son. Calm yourself." He continued, "You are right, there are plenty of bad people and no, the world is not necessarily a good place. I wonder though, what would it be like if people like you give up? What drives you, Vavoom?"

I thought for a while. I still didn't have an answer.

My Mother picked up the conversation, "When you were young, you used to put a cape on and jump off of our furniture and pretend you could save the world. Can't you still live that way, just focusing on one person at a time?"

I smiled. Something about that rang true. Maybe the world is bad. Maybe some people truly suck. Still, what's stopping me from doing my best and being good? Nothing.

The conversation ended with, "You know Dad, I do know what drives me." "Good," he responded. Funny, he didn't ask what that something was. I guess that wasn't the point of asking.

If you'll excuse me, I've just put my cape on. It's time to find some furniture to jump off of.

Today.

2005-10-17T23:01:00.000-05:00

Every year, on October 18th, my Mother tells me a story.

In 1975, my Father was a graduate student. My Mother was a nurse. They were poor. Both worked long and hard. My father held 3 jobs -- he worked as a plumber, television repairman and janitor. On top of that he took classes, taught courses and conducted research. No, he didn't get much sleep. My Mother worked in a burn unit, assisting patients with unspeakable injuries. With three mouths to feed, they simply weren't able to save enough money to afford another child, much less it's birth. Health care didn't exist at the time for graduate students and their families.

My Father did everything he could. He saved every penny possible. By the time month nine hit, there just wasn't enough money. My Mother went into labor. He raced her and my three siblings to the hospital. My Mother remained in labor for 18 hours. The child was an emergency breach case. One wrong move and she and the child would not survive.

Hospital administrators told my Father that my Mother would have to be moved to a county hospital. "Please," my Father pleaded, "It's an abnormal breach case. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll pay this bill. I can give you my word -- that's all I have." The administrators insisted. A doctor walking past overheard the conversation. "Sir, is that your wife in labor in room 2?" "Yes," my Father replied. The doctor turned to the administrator and said, "She stays here. If you're worried about the bill, forget it. I'll pick it up." The doctor delivered the child, a baby boy. My Father later landed a well paying job and paid the doctor in full, just as he'd promised.

I have been told this story once a year, every year of my life. My Mother concludes the tale by reminding me, "Son, you came into this world through the kindness of a stranger. Remember that. This is the legacy that you must continue with all people. Show them the same kindness and generosity that our family received from that doctor. That is the debt that you must repay. Remember that."

On this, my 30th birthday, I celebrate not my life, but those of the people that have helped me make it this far. My Father and Mother, who worked so hard to provide. My Brother and two Sisters, who continue to help me find smooth passage through turbulent times. My Wife, who continues to amaze me with her unending love. My Friends, who have supported me and established themselves as part of my extended family. The good doctor that saved my and my Mother's life. Lest I forget, you the reader. Thank you.

Getting Physical

2005-10-17T08:46:00.000-05:00

I just returned from getting a physical at the Fancypants University Clinic. The health care here is amazing. One problem -- I hate disrobing in front of strangers. I really hate it. Fortunately this was a routine check up.

When Dr. C entered, he asked for my medical history and proceeded to tell me that I've got a one way ticket to hell if I don't change my lifestyle. "Given your family's medical history, Mr. Vavoom, I think I'll need to do a full physical on you." "What the hell comes with a full physical," I asked. "Wait and see," he said. "I'll be back. In the meantime please disrobe." Damn it.

Having a discussion with a stranger is really difficult while sitting on a cold, waxpaper covered table. I kept trying to cross my legs or do something to bring some dignity to the situation. He began probing and poking around my torso. I couldn't help it, I was being difficult.

"Since you've disrobed," he added, "I'll go ahead and check you for a hernia." Now's my chance. I've always wanted to do this. Finally, I'll get over my fear of getting naked in front of a complete stranger. I stood up boldly, placed both hands on the waistband of my tighty whitey's, pulled down and yelled out, "BEHOLD!"

Dr. C immediately broke out in laughter. "Hey, you're laughing at my 'behold,' not my penis, right?" "Right, right," he responded as he proceeded to probe around my scrotum. The damn guy wouldn't stop giggling. "You're sure it's not my penis, you're laughing at?" "Yes, yes... I'm sure... I've never had a patient be so squirrely and then pull something like that before, that's all."

Then came the words no man ever wants to hear -- "Now, I'd like to do a colorectal exam on you." "A what!?" "It's not a big deal, really. I'm also worried you might have an ulcer and would like to get a stool sample." "You think you're going to stick your finger up my ass and reach all the way up to my stomach? No thanks. I'll pass." "Are you sure?" "Look, if you want me to poop in a cup that's one thing. I've never had anything shoved up my ass and I really don't think today is the day to give it a try. Besides, you haven't even bought me dinner."

I got dressed, went to the bathroom, pooped in a cup and handed it over to Dr. C, "It's some of my finest work, in that cup." "Let me tell you, Vavoom, patients like you are usually a big pain in the ass, but this has been one of the most entertaining and interesting physicals I've ever done. I'll see you in two weeks, right?" "Play your cards right, Dr. C and you might just get that colorectal exam..."

I left the room and could hear him laughing hysterically. I still think he's laughing at my penis.

The Remark.

2005-10-14T11:00:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine is a graduate student at a fancy university in England. He's teaching this term, and he puts his heart and soul into it.

He's also openly gay. His students recently took an exam. On one of his student's exams was written, "All homos should be shot. You people make me fucking sick."

My friend was noticeably shaken. "What should I do," he asked. "Why not report the little shit? Get him kicked out of the class, if not the university?" "I can't," he replied, "I mentioned it to the course lecturer and he said, 'That's what you get for being that way.'" My friend explained that the instructor told him he would not support any disciplinary action. The lecturer continued by telling him that "If you take this matter further, it will have a repercussion on your career."

It's this sort of crap that really bothers me. As students, we are beholden to faculty. They can literally make or break our careers. I feel bad for my friend. I honestly didn't know what to say to him.

Do We Care?

2005-10-13T09:21:00.000-05:00

The earthquake in South Asia was certainly a catastrophe. Katrina was also a catastrophe. The death toll in South Asia is over 40,000. Katrina, over 1000. When I look at the way the media has handled both disasters, I start to wonder. Why is it that Katrina received major media coverage, where for days and days it was the top headline on major American media websites, while the earthquake in South Asia, on many media outlets, has become buried beneath headlines about idiots like Senators Bill Frist and Tom Delay?

Is American life more valuable than Indian, Pakistani and Kashmiri life? Reach deep down, ask yourself -- was I more concerned about the lives of those left in Katrina's wake? We are the viewers and readers that major American media outlets cater to, after all. Is the lack of media attention to the rescue efforts in South Asia indicative of a problem with American attitudes or American media or both?

I haven't seen Bill Clinton or George Bush holding hands on television asking people to donate money to help these poor people. Last I checked, Hollywood stars aren't marshalling their efforts to help victims of the earthquake.

Granted, the tsunami received media attention and, yes, Hollywood came out in full force. The death toll from that catastrophe is 118,000 lives. Does a macabre threshold exist? Will we only pay attention to the loss of life in foreign countries when a hundred thousand people or more die? Note -- I'm discussing trends here. I know that many of you care deeply about the loss of all human life. Yet my main question remains -- on average, do we deem American life as more valuable than that of our foreign counterparts?

I discussed the tsunami death toll with a coworker this morning. His response, "Man... 118,000, huh? I'm glad we've forgotten about that one."

Open Sesame.

2005-10-12T09:50:00.000-05:00

I'll admit it. I'm that guy in the elevator that listens in on your conversation. Today I overheard the most preposterous discussion ever:

G1: Yeah, my wife bought our kid one of them Elmo toys. Man, that shit is so expensive.
G2: Oh no way. There's no way I'm lettin' my kid watch Sesame Street or play with any of those toys.
G1: Whaddya mean?
G2: I mean, look at The Count. That fuckin' guy's scary. Bert and Ernie are certainly gay. Shit, Elmo promotes kids allowing strangers ta' touch 'em with all that "tickle me shit." Besides, do you want your kid to be learnin' stuff from some guy that lives in a garbage can?
G1: Man, maybe you're right... I never looked at it that way.
G2: I'm not kiddin'. Most of those kids shows promote lewd behavior. If I want my kid to learn and see nature and animals, I'll take him hunting with me. My kids aren't allowed to watch any kids shows.

Give me a break. It's one thing if you don't want your kid to watch Sex in The City or Cinemax's soft porn. Sesame Street? Please. What, is Big Bird's beak too phallic for you? I think people project their adult interpretations onto children's shows. Remember Jackass Falwell and his issues with Tinky Winky? Even now, people argue that Harry Potter promotes witchcraft and the occult. Never mind that millions of children are actively reading and using their imaginations. Perhaps we should burn those books. We wouldn't want our children practicing the dark arts. Better yet, we'd better burn our brooms. Kids could get hurt flying around on them, after all.

People confuse me. They don't pay attention to their child's educational and psychological growth and yet they focus on trivial matters. Sure, there's nothing wrong with being a poor role model for your child, but God forbid your child read The Catcher in the Rye. If you ask me, some parents have it all wrong.

Give.

2005-10-11T09:42:00.000-05:00

Help those affected by the earthquake in South Asia. Please give whatever you can.

2 AM.

2005-10-11T02:08:00.000-05:00

The walk home at 2 AM was unlike any other. The streets felt devoid of life, spare a bird sipping from a muddy puddle. I walked slowly, listening to the gritty, but soaked, substrate slide against the soles of my shoes.

Has it really been 12 years? It can't be. 12 years of this? Slugging my way through experiments, spending inordinate amounts of time in dark labs, praying for data to rain down on me like manna from heaven.

The morning was difficult. The afternoon was miserable. My evening was worse. Is it worth it? Can I honestly say I enjoy this anymore?

The questions continued. I stopped to light up a cigarette. The smoke billowed through the cool autumn air. Suddenly, the painful one hit.

Am I happy?

I looked to the sky, then back at the earth. I remembered a poem my father used to recite to me -- "Kabhi kisi ko mukamul, jaha nahi milta." (No one ever gets a perfect world.) The poem continues, "Sometimes you get the sky. Sometimes you get the earth."

Feeling bare of either, I continued my slow pace home. God, I feel so alone. These people are killing me. If it really is true, if I really am swimming with sharks, most certainly my love of scientific research is being eaten alive. God help me, I just don't know if I'll make it.

Happy Conqueror's Day!

2005-10-10T10:02:00.000-05:00

Get out your smallpox, rape and systematic killing. Today is Conqueror's Day. Regale in Columbus' errant landing in the Bahamas and kiss your indigenous people goodbye!

Seriously, what's all this nonsense about? Sure, I'm glad there's a national holiday today... who isn't? But, really, do we need to celebrate Columbus? Can't we find a truly heroic figure to name this national holiday after? Hell, I'd be happier if we called today "Jimmy Carter Day." I'd be even happier if we named today "Take a Day Off Day." Columbus Day? What a joke.

I propose we rename this holiday. Send in your suggestions. C'mon, this'll be fun!

Peacefully Making A Point.

2005-10-07T09:37:00.000-05:00

Why is the Nobel Peace Prize is such a farce? Time and time again, we've seen the prize awarded to individuals that are clearly undeserving (read: Kofi Annan, Yasir Arafat, etc).

Now this.

Yes, you'll claim that the reduction of nuclear arms is important. I agree. Really, has the International Atomic Energy Agency done everything it can to limit the spread of nuclear weapons? Are they truly deserving of a Nobel Prize? Recently, the peace prize has been given to make a point (read: Jody Williams and the International Campaign to Ban Landmines). Shouldn't the peace prize be awarded to individuals or organizations that have demonstrated lifetime achievments?

The Good Doctor.

2005-10-06T09:24:00.000-05:00

One of the many things I had to do yesterday was visit the orthopedic clinic at Fancypants University Medical center. I'm having huge problems with my feet and ankles.

Before entering the examination room, a nurse practitioner came by. "OK, I'll need all of you to take off your shoes and socks." Here's a confession -- I've got a wierd problem with my feet. When I was young, my siblings and I teased one another about our feet so viciously, that now I've got a complex about my feet. The nurse asked me to take my shoes off with two other people sitting next to me.

"Now... we should take off our shoes, now," I asked. "Please," the nurse responded. I looked over at the two people sitting next to me. Patient #1's feet were pretty banged up -- bunyans, callouses, etc. That left me and patient number two. I closed my eyes and began taking off my shoes. "Damn it," I kept whispering to myself. By the time my dogs were exposed, I heard the nurse say, "Goodness, you really should cut your nails." I looked up. Yes, she was talking to me. "Damn it."

Suddenly, I looked over at patient #2's feet. On her left foot was an enormous mole. You know, the hairy kind that induces panic and fear in anyone that's around it. I thought to myself, "Hey, my feet aren't that bad after all." I started strutting my podiatric stuff. "Yeah, you know it, you tell the story, you tell the whole damn world about my gorgeous feet!"

The doctor came around, gave each of our feet a quick look. Upon finishing with mine, the doctor said, "Mr. Vavoom, you really need to cut these nails. What is that, fungus?" Patient #1 and #2 started smirking. I wanted to tell the doctor, "Shhh! You'll ruin my chances of winning this little beauty contest."

When I was finally brought into the examination room, I realized that long toenails are temporary. Ugly feet are forever. By the way -- no, it's not fungus.

Prize in Chemistry.

2005-10-05T09:39:00.000-05:00

The Nobel Prize in Chemistry has been announced.

Sorry Gabor, maybe next year.

Hot Blooded.

2005-10-04T06:23:00.000-05:00

I woke up this morning with the following song stuck in my head: "Yeah, I'm hot-blooded, check it and see... I've got a fever of a hundred and three... C'mon baby can you do more than dance? I'm hot-blooded, I'm hot-blooded!"

The lyrics to this song don't feel so foreign. (Shamefully, that pun was intended) I have a pounding headache and a high fever to the tune of 102 degrees. Indeed, I'm hot-blooded. I'm also coughing up large whitish green chunks of God knows what. I've learned that severe coughing does wonders for a pounding headache.

Unfortunately, I've got to turn in a monster problem set and finish an experiment today. I really must get this work done. I figure I can "Rambo" my way through this. I just wanted, for the record, to share with all of you my tough guy, "I'm too stupid to rest when I'm sick" routine. You've got that right, I'm going to power my way through this crap.

It's not so bad, at least I can spend my day dizzy at work. That should be fun. I can pretend that I've taken my narcotic of choice. I'm a big fan of the surreal. Have you ever had that wierd, "I'm sick and everything feels surreal feeling?" Holy crap, I'm getting that feeling right now! Who'd a thunk blogging could feel surreal?

Anyways, I'm off to a lovely day packed with dizzy adventures and phlegmatic dreams.

Physics Prize Announced.

2005-10-04T06:00:00.000-05:00

The Nobel Prize in Physics was announced earlier today.

Here's my bold prediction. The Nobel Prize in Chemistry will be awarded this year to Gabor Somorjai at UC Berkeley. Anyone else willing to make a bold, Nobel Prize prediction? (Humor/sarcasm is also welcome.)

The Bummer Blog.

2005-10-03T08:40:00.000-05:00

I've got to be honest. This blog used to be fun. I've taken the time to read through my most recent entries and, sheesh, this thing is depressing.

Gone are my entertaining stories about irritable bowels, comic books and fine music. Instead, I've taken a "woe is me" approach to blogging. Well, that's not what I wanted this blog to be about. The trouble is -- I've got nothing. I could write all about my recent escapades in the Fancypants University Library bathroom, the dog that damn near kills me every morning in the elevator, my two upstairs neighbors (both female) who sound like they're having a massive pillow fight every evening before bedtime.

I'm just not sure any of that is very thought provoking.

I could write about something political, but isn't that what every other blog out there is doing? I must admit, I feel guilty when I write about my everyday crap. Couldn't I find something more useful to write about?

Here's the question -- if you were me, what would you write about? What would you like to hear about? Tell me, how may I serve you?

Poor Q.

2005-09-30T08:01:00.000-05:00

Every research group has one crazy guy. You know, someone with small yellow birds circling around his/her head all the time.

We have "Q." It's very sad, really. Whenever I come into work late at night I see Q, sitting at his desk, staring into space, rocking himself. It's clear that he suffers from a severe disorder. What's worse, people in the group seem to enjoy screwing with him.

Two days ago, some group members saw Q posting a "Male Seeking Female" ad on craigslist. They thought it would be hilarious to have Q meet his "dream girl" at a restaurant in downtown Boston. I ran into Q on his way out:

V: Big Q, what's going on?
Q: I've got a date tonight. I'm really excited, because I haven't been on a date in a while.
V: Q, don't go. It's a joke, the guys... they're playing a joke on you.

Suddenly, Q started rocking himself while he stood, "It, it can't be a joke. I, I, I know it can't. I'm gonna go. They guys probably were thinking about screwing with me... but this girl, she's waiting for me."

I returned to the lab at 2 AM. There I saw poor Q, again rocking himself in his chair. It was clear that he had been crying. I love practical jokes. I hate cruelty. In this case, the distinction was clear.

Turn Damn You.

2005-09-29T09:04:00.000-05:00

I've been promised that fall here on the east coast is spectacular. "It's coming, next week... you watch," I'm continually told. The trees are very green. There's nothing indicating that I'm going to be the recipient of a carotenoid laden visual display. At this point I'm not convinced it's going to happen. Then again, I'm also not convinced that it gets very cold here in the winter. Denial? Who's in denial?

Yesterday I overheard a worker saying, "Yeah, fall around here used to really be something. These days it lasts three weeks and then it's freezing cold. I feel bad for all these students coming here expecting months of beauty."

Columbus Day (read: indigenous people day) is high season for fall foliage. Mrs. Vavoom and I are going to drive up to New Hampshire and look at all the colors. There had better be some beauty or I'm going to go postal on mother nature.

Finally.

2005-09-28T07:50:00.000-05:00

My latest 30 hour time course experiment failed yesterday, badly. This was particularly troubling since group meeting was coming later that night. Yes, I was again promised that I'd have to do another chalk talk. No data and a chalk talk. Wonderful.

When group meeting hit, I was so exhausted. I had been up for the last 36 hours. At this point, I didn't really care if I was going to get jumped.

BS: Vavoom, you're up.
V: Yeah, well... my experiment didn't work out so well, but I know why.
BS: Why?
V: Well, our fiber launch keeps drifting and by the time the experiment is done, we've lost 40% of our power. I've got the data to prove it. I'd like to put together a system that won't have that problem...
GM1: We don't need to put together another system. Why can't you just sit next to the damned thing while you're doing the experiment and keep adjusting it?
V: Continue to adjust it while the experiment is going? For thirty hours? That's not sensible.
GM1: Why not?
V: While I'm collecting data, I should continue to realign the optics? C'mon, that's preposterous. To fix it, we'll only need to spend $500. I'll pay that out of pocket if Bigshot won't pony up the cash.
BS: Yes, we can certainly afford that. GM1 -- you're idea is completely stupid. You want him to change the laser power dynamically, while data is being taken? In the course of your life, have you never taken a measurement? You are a fifth year graduate student, right? Why would suggest something so inane?
GM1: (frustrated) I, uhhh... well, Vavoom wants to waste money on things like irises. I keep telling him that two points don't necessarily define a line and we can align the system with just one iris.
BS: Okay, stop. You're telling me that one point defines a line? Vavoom, take a seat, thanks. GM1, get up to the board. I need to see you prove to me that one point defines a line. I need to see your idiocy in action.

All told, Group Member 1 spent 2.5 hours at the board being thrashed by Bigshot. It was like watching a one way knife fight. Group Member 1 has been the bane of my existence since I arrived here at Fancypants University. Maybe you guys are right. Maybe karma is real.

Sex Kittens.

2005-09-27T09:41:00.000-05:00

There are a couple of vendors that roam the halls here at Fancypants University once every month. Both look exactly like Barbie. They are aggressive in their game plan.

Every male scientist they run into, they flirt with to high hell.

There I was -- married little Vavoom, sitting at my desk, trying to figure out how to prove some God forsaken thing using Pascal's Triangle. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

SK1: Hi there. We're from XYZ incorporated. Do you have a minute?
V: Actually, I don't. I'm working on a problem set. Sorry.
SK2: Wow, I didn't know there were such good looking guys doing math in this building.
V: Right, right. I really should get back to work.
SK1: (putting her hand on mine) C'mon, you've got to have some time for the two of us.

Now, your average single male graduate student would probably go absolutely nuts with two canonically gorgeous women flirting with him. I, on the other hand, was getting annoyed.

V: We don't allow vendors to roam around here for a reason. You guys are a distraction. Touching me is a distraction. Flirting with me is a distraction. If I want to buy something, I'll buy it. If you have information, leave it and I'll look at it later.
SK1: Wow, this one is fiesty. I like that.
SK2: Me too. (rubs SK1's back)

It felt like they were going to make out with each other right then and there. Was I trapped in some geeky beer commercial? Was this the Howard Stern show featuring Pascal's Triangle and hot lesbian action?

V: Okay, that's it. You guys are banned. Leave now, don't come back. I see you guys pull this crap every month. Do you actually make sales doing this sort of thing?
SK1: Actually, we do.
SK2: We'll see you later, handsome. (they leave)

Upon talking to our administrative assitant, I found out that these two women are apparently the top sales producers for their product category on the east coast. Man, I guess sex really does sell.

The Pep Talk.

2005-09-26T10:03:00.000-05:00

A conversation I had with Prof. Bigshot this morning:

V: Bigshot, one of the department requirements is that I apply for a fellowship.
BS: So.
V: Well, I sent you a fellowship proposal and I was wondering if you've had a chance to look at it.
BS: No, and I don't think I want to read it.
V: Okay... why?
BS: Well... your labmate, So and So, has a much better chance of becoming a faculty member. I'm going to focus on So and So's application. That means you're on your own.
V: Interesting. So and So has done next to nothing in the lab. We're in the same year of graduate school. I've been here everyday, 7 days a week, working hard, getting results and I'm not cut out to be a faculty member?
BS: That's right.
V: Just curious, on what basis do you make that claim?
BS: I don't have a basis. I don't need one. That's just the way that it is. So and So will get my help, So and So will get a faculty position. You won't.

I crept out of Bigshot's office. The walk back to the lab was long, despite it's actual three meter distance. It's common for faculty to have favorites. Bigshot and So and So are actually close friends, for reasons I'd rather not discuss. This is life. This is academia. Four years of this. Lucky me.

Actually, I mean it. I love being underestimated. I absolutely love it. I can't become a professor, eh? Watch me. I have a plan. I'm sticking to it.

Why Lima Beans Suffer.

2005-09-26T00:30:00.000-05:00

Why does succotash suffer?

Answer.

As someone that's constantly using profanity, I'm trying to find replacement words that won't make me sound like Mary Poppins. What are your favorite "gosh darn it" euphemisms?

Happy Birthday!

2005-09-23T10:40:00.000-05:00

Today is my sister's birthday. She's the most wonderful person I've met. In a sense, she was like a second mother to me. While my mother worked diligently, it was my eldest sister that helped around the house, kept us in line and made sure all was in order. As should be apparent, she sacrificed so much to serve as a maternal safety net.

When I was in the depths of depression, it was she that sat beside me and made sure I realized everything would be alright. She is the paragon of industry and strength, a true reflection of our mother.

Happy birthday, my sister. I love you.

Swamped.

2005-09-23T10:34:00.000-05:00

Good God am I busy. I've been awake for nearly 30 straight hours doing a time course measurement. I have a problem set due today and I have to give yet another group meeting next Tuesday. On top of that, I have to meet with a potential collaborator and take care of some work for my labmate.

Tired, humbled and stressed, I carry on.

Crash.

2005-09-22T07:25:00.000-05:00

I came into lab this morning and saw the most lovely site. A huge piece of duct had fallen onto my optics bench. It looks like it landed on the lasers, bounced off and rested nicely onto the optics.

Apparently two workers (one of whom is a good guy) decided to take a look at the duct work above my setup. One of them leveraged himself against a piece of duct. Guess what? Well, you've already read the opener so you know what happened.

Prof. Bigshot hasn't shown up to work yet, but oh holy shit is there gonna be trouble. I've got to keep this short. I'm hoping the lasers and optics aren't damaged. If that's the case, then I'll simply fix everything and keep my mouth shut. Both of those workers are terrified they'll lose their job if Bigshot finds out.

The Smarts.

2005-09-21T07:55:00.000-05:00

What makes a person intelligent? Is it their ability in a particular field? Is it seen through their natural gifts? Is it a confluence of their knowledge and life experiences?

Time and time again, I've mentioned that I don't have an appreciation for bullshit. Shit, yes. Bullshit, no. In my extended time at Berkeley and now at Fancypants University, I've run into several types of people. I propose the following categories:

1) Truly bright, No B.S.: This rare group of people are amongst the few that can actually back their words up with action. When they say something, they mean it.

2) Truly bright, B.S.: Surprisingly, this tends to be the most successful class of people I've met. They may be able, but they will often mask their abilities with a clear coat of crap.

3) Mr./Mrs. ROTM: Mr. or Mrs. Run Of The Mill will usually just plow along and get things done.

4) Truly foolish, B.S.: This is the worst of the worst. They don't know what they're talking about so they'll start throwing jargon (like Markov chains) around and blame others if nothing works.

1-3 I have no problem with. Yesterday, a category 4 labmate tried to explain to me that only one point defines a line. One point. I argued, algebraically and geometrically, with this person for an hour. "I'm telling you, two points define a line," I kept saying, "look at the math, for God's sake." In the end, this category 4 genius said he simply isn't convinced. Another labmate walked up to me and said, "Vavoom... everyone knows that you only need one point to define a line."

Back to my original point -- do I have the right to call these people idiots? Maybe they're weak at math. That's okay. Plenty of people are weak at math. Intelligence comes in many forms. Who am I to decide that they're fools? They have skills and talents in other fields. At what point can you proclaim that someone is an idiot? After all, in doing so you negate their intellect.

School's In.

2005-09-20T06:50:00.000-05:00

My first day of classes went well. I must say, I feel overwhelmed. As a graduate student, you have to keep up with classes, research and current scientific literature. How anyone is able to keep up with all three is beyond me.

My day started at 7:30 AM, ended at 10:30 PM. One meal all day.

Swing low... sweet chariot... comin' for to carry me home...

One highlight -- I'm taking a course dealing with Markov Chains. Apparently, once I've mastered Markov Chains, I'll be able to cook up some cool card tricks. Of course, I'll post them for y'all. That is what graduate school is all about, right -- cool card tricks?

I have an important meeting with Prof. Bigshot tommorrow. Apparently some of the stuff I'm working on will be included in Bigshot's talk at a big conference. I'll have to get heaps of research done in the next few weeks. What can you do, right? Well, I'm going to bury my head and plow through classes and research. I've found that I'm much happier and certainly much more productive when I ignore all of the politics around me and simply work.

Violated.

2005-09-19T07:02:00.000-05:00

While strolling down the Newbury Street in Boston yesterday, Mrs. Vavoom decided to get a manicure. "Great," I thought as I held the two paintings we purchased earlier in the day. It was overcast and I was worried we may experience one of those crazy summer showers we've grown accustomed to.

I waited outside the salon for 20 minutes. I decided to enter since I was sick of looking at overpriced clothing in the neighboring stores. As I entered the salon, a gaggle of Vietnamese women began speaking to me very quickly, in accents that could only be ascribed to speaking in tongues.

"You sit here, honey. I fix you up good," said one of the stylists.
"No, no. I'm here with her, my wife."
"Honey, we know, we know... you sit there. Fix you up good."

I sat in the chair for about 3 minutes. I picked up a time magazine and started reading about systematic rape in Darfur. A sad tale, indeed. Suddenly, I felt hot oil on the back of my neck. "What the hell," I yelled out.

"Relax, honey. Relax. Massage. Fix you up good."
"No, no massage. No thank you."

She began beating on me. Using her elbow, she started poking around my upper back and neck. "Ow, ow, ow, ow. Please, no." "Relax honey, that your problem. Not relax. Fix you up good." Next came the karate chops, which really don't feel good on the back of your neck, last time I checked. The terror continued for 10 minutes.

Halfway through, Mrs. Vavoom, who was not in eyeshot, saw me. "No, no, he hates being touched by strangers. No massage." "Honey, that why your man can't relax. You don't let him."

In the end, my back was covered with oil. What about my shirt? Well, my favorite Berkeley t-shirt was thoroughly stretched out and soaked with goopy massage slime. It was a long trip home, I'll tell you that much.

In other news, classes start today. Man, it's been a long time since I've felt nervous about classes. It's exciting. Certainly it's better than getting violated by a Vietnamese manicurists.

Beer Bash.

2005-09-16T08:06:00.000-05:00

Our lab was hosting an interdepartmental party yesterday. That required food, drinks and music. Prof. Bigshot established clearly who would get what for the event. The party was at 5:30 pm. I checked my watch. It was 4:30. No one had gone to get food or drinks. In walks Prof. Bigshot:

PB (angrily): Vavoom, what are you doing? Why aren't you getting things together for the party?
V: B was responsible for getting the drinks. K is responsible for the food. J is responsible for the music. I would assume they're handling it.
PB (angrily): They said you're handling all of it. We have a party in one hour and you've done absolutely nothing!
V: That's complete bullshit. Where are B, K, J?

I proceeded to round up B, K, J and Prof. Bigshot.

V: Bigshot says you guys claimed I was going to get everything for the party. When did I say that? Never. I never said that.
B: Well, I don't want to get the beer. It's raining outside and it'll be too heavy to carry.
K: I'm busy with J right now, so I can't get the food.
V: B, go get food. I'll get the beer.
PB (angrily): Hurry up and get it, Vavoom. We need 7 cases.

I ran to a local market and picked up 8 cases of beer. It was pouring rain. I've never stolen a shopping cart before, but there's a first time for everything. I returned to the lab, soaked and beer laden. A quick check of the watch shows 5:15 PM. I'm on time. I set the beer in ice tubs and proceeded back to my desk.

A postdoc in the lab, D, approached me. "Hey, I just want you to know I appreciate you getting the beer. I wasn't here when you left, otherwise I'd have helped." An aside about D -- he's flamingly gay and extraordinarily effeminate. Once again, in walks Prof. Bigshot:

PB (angrily): Vavoom, you didn't get enough beer. Jesus Fucking Christ! I asked you to get 7 cases... how much is out there?
V: 8 cases.
PB (angrily): That's unacceptable! Clearly you have no sense of how much beer we needed. You were at the store. You should have estimated that we needed more.

I stared at Bigshot, water still dripping off of me. Suddenly, I heard D say at his desk, "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!!!" He quickly came out from his cubicle:

D (very effeminate (ve), very angry (va)): Bigshot, what the fuck is your problem? Vavoom is pinch hitting for your lazy graduate students... I mean, look at the poor guy. He's soaked... he slogged 8 cases of beer through the rain and this is how you thank him? The appropriate response is 'Thank You.' This is why you're such a fucking pain in the ass to work with!
PB: Look I don't like being talked to like that...
D (ve, va): Well now you know how Vavoom feels! God, sometimes you are such an asshole! You've done this to all of us and that's why our group is so fucked up. It's because of you and your shitty management style!

Remember when Hulk Hogan faced off against Andre The Giant in Wrestlemania? Yeah, this was better. They went back and forth for about 10 minutes. D stuck to his guns. He kept calling Bigshot words like, "piece of shit" and "asshole." Finally, Bigshot broke down, "Vavoom, you did good. I'm sorry." Suddenly, I wasn't the one that was all wet.

The party went well. I met heaps of people. Most importantly, I've found a valuable friend and ally in D.

Oh Johnny Boy...

2005-09-15T08:41:00.000-05:00

As a result of my continuing struggle with insomnia, I've had the wonderful opportunity to watch John Roberts' confirmation hearing. I'm impressed with Judge Roberts. He's well spoken, thoughtful and humble. I'm not impressed with conservative and liberal senators on the judicial committee.

Each member steps onto their soap box and prattles on about their opinions about abortion, checks and balances, separation of church and state and so on. After expelling their verbal diarrhea, they finally ask Judge Roberts for his opinion. His typical response is, "Well, that issue may come before the court so I must decline to answer."

Liberal members of the committee are often frustrated by such responses. Why? I would be upset if Roberts did indulge us with his personal opinions. He is being evaluated on his ability to remain impartial, right? If that's the case, he's won me over.

Don't get me wrong, I lean to the left. Of course I strongly support a woman's right to choose. Still, I want a justice to evaluate cases free from personal preference. It's clear to me that Roberts will do just that.

Where do you stand on the matter? Should Roberts disclose his political leanings and thoughts about specific cases?

An Amazing Read.

2005-09-14T18:38:00.000-05:00

I ran across this fantastic editorial in USA Today. It's a remarkable look at the interface between American and Islamic culture. Be sure to read it.

As Promised.

2005-09-14T06:55:00.000-05:00

I didn't sleep well last night. I tossed and turned, wondering how I'd respond to last night's beating. Would I stay? Would I exact revenge? Would I start playing politics with my labmates? "I'm going to teach them a lesson they'll never forget," I thought.

At about 3 AM, I walked out onto our balcony. It was a cool evening. I was confused and angry. How should I respond? Maybe I could take the day off? Yes, I'll disappear for a day.

Then it donned on me -- I will do exactly as I have been doing. I will come to work early, I will leave late. I will work hard. Leaving Fancypants University is a preposterous notion, one not worth entertaining further. Exacting revenge is immature and puts me at the level of the insecure people I work with. I refuse to play politics. If I did, I would become like the people that came after me last night. That's not for me.

Besides, scores have lost their homes and many have died as a result of torrential flooding in New Orleans. Soldiers in Iraq are fighting and dying. Yes, people in third world nations are starving. I think my little run in last night pales in comparison to all of that. Am I so self centered that all I can care about is a stupid talk? Of course not.

So here I stand. As promised to me last night, tomorrow (today) is another day. I'm going to make it a good and productive one.

Ambush.

2005-09-13T19:13:00.000-05:00

I've just spent 3.5 hours getting hammered on. My lovely labmates decided to invite three other faculty members to my "improptu" talk. They were wise in who they brought -- each was an absolute expert on issues pertinent to my new project.

It was terrible. By the end I was dizzy and traumatized. Five group members crafted prepared questions. In my 12 years of research experience, I've never seen anything like this.

I held my own, but I'm profoundly sad that my labmates would be so terrible. They all laughed about it afterwards and regaled in their accomplished mission.

This is as sad as I've been since starting this blog. If being a scientist involves this sort of nonsense, I'm beginning to hate doing science. I'm serious. I can't take this kind of shit anymore.

Chalk Talk.

2005-09-13T07:14:00.000-05:00

My project has changed. It came rather suddenly. Prof. Bigshot called me into the office and explained how a person is badly needed to do a particular task. That's fine, I'm new. Changing projects isn't that big a deal.

Our research group has group meeting once a week. They're actually pretty scary events. All of that is because Prof. Bigshot has changed the format. Rather than give a 1.5 hour powerpoint presentation, Bigshot is calling people randomly and having them go to the board and give an old fashioned chalk talk. Chalk talks are scary since Prof. Bigshot seems to be keen on torture. Every talk is like an oral examination. Yes, Bigshot is very good at finding people's weaknesses and beating them down.

Normally I'd think this is all fine, but the attitude in the group is really pathetic. People basically use this opportunity to make their collegues look bad while they simultaneously improve their own image. Also, Prof. Bigshot is exceptionally mean during these endeavors. Last week one group member looked like she was going to cry. It's really sad to see our entire group gang up on one person like that. In fact, I've overheard group members state, "Group meeting is the ultimate opportunity to make someone look bad and make yourself look good... Bigshot seems to love stuff like that."

I mentioned that people are called on randomly. That's not entirely true. Bigshot keeps a list, checks it twice, looks around the room and picks anyone that didn't go last week. I've been told by Prof. Bigshot's spouse that I'm next. Apparently, my thrashing comes tonight. You really can't prepare for these things. Even if you give a solid chalk talk, Bigshot and the other group members will nitpick and find something to thrash you on.

This isn't such a big deal. Right? I just started my new project last week, but spent that week in graduate student orientation (a mandatory event). I haven't any data. In fact, I'm still getting clear on the exact question being addressed through my new project.

Bigshot's spouse told me that three group members have lobbied to have me go next. Politics are very very bad in this new group. The worst I've seen. Yesterday I overheard two group members talking, "Yeah, yeah, we asked Bigshot to put him on the list tonight... I know, he just started this project... Ha ha ha, yeah, Bigshot is going to tear him apart."

I guess I deserve some of this cloak and dagger stuff, what with all of my galavanting around the lab. I'm going to do everything I can to give a good talk. If I think someone's trying to cut me down to make themselves look good, I'm going to do what is needed to demonstrate that I don't stand for that garbage. That's probably not the best way to make friends, but hey -- I've already got plenty of friends.

Fun, Fun, Fun.

2005-09-12T07:39:00.000-05:00

I spent most of the weekend working. That means I watched college and pro football scores pour in over the internet. I busted my ass. There really is nothing more gratifying than getting things done, giving it your best. I walked home on Sunday, whistling, as happy as I've been in a while.

The funny thing is, nothing worked. Everything I did over the weekend failed. Not a single experiment worked. Still, I was so pleased with the effort. Often, scientists are saddened with null results. I for one am happy that I tried.

Here I am, early to work, continuing the good fight. I'll walk home today with my head held high, provided that I've dug in and done my best.

Do me a favor -- dig in today. Give it your all. Don't just be good, be great for the lavish sake. Be not upset if things don't work out. Just make sure that you can go home knowing you did everything you could today. Did you feel better when you came home?

Vavoom To The Rescue.

2005-09-09T08:07:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I overheard a postdoc badly abusing a technician:

P: I'm asking you why it didn't work. I want an answer now. What the hell are these spikes in the data?
T: Well, I just did the experiment and I need to think about what went wrong.
P: What, are you too stupid to figure it out now? I'm asking you what went wrong!
T: I'm not sure... I... *sniff* I'm trying and... *sniff*
P: Do you honestly think you can keep this job with your idiotic mentality?

Here's where I stepped in:

V: P, what do you think went wrong with T's experiment?
P: I don't know, that's why I'm asking.
V: C'mon, figure it out. You're a postdoc for God's sake. C'mon, right here on the spot, figure it out.
P: Well, I don't know.
V: Now I'm asking you, P -- what went wrong? T has told you exactly how the experiment was done, you should be able to tell me right here, on the spot, what went wrong.
P: I don't know.
V: Do you honestly think you should keep your job with your idiotic mentality? I mean, c'mon, give T a break. How do you expect someone with limited experience to figure out in short time something that you, with years of experience can't figure out? What the fuck gives you the right to treat someone like that? You know, it's assholes like you that really fucking piss me off.

As I spoke I felt my pulse pounding at my temple. After everything that happened to me back at Berkeley, I've become ultra-sensitive to abusive treatment. I took a deep breath. "I'm not handling this well," I thought.

V: Listen, T doesn't deserve to be talked to like that. She's learning. I know what it's like to work for someone abusive. It's not fun. Be patient, give her time and she'll figure everything out.
P: How about you mind your own business, V?
T: It's okay *sniff*, I can take it.
V: You won't have to, T. Everytime P talks to you like that, come and get me. The next time he treats you badly, I'll bore a fucking intellectual hole in his head. By the way, P, those spikes in T's data -- yeah, they're coming from your shithole power supply. T, try the experiment again using a good one. The spikes will go away. If they don't, come and get me.

Again, I could feel myself getting angry. I took another deep breath and walked away. I really need to learn to stay calm during such confrontations. I guess I'm projecting my prior abusive experience onto T's situation.

Incidentally, it was the power supply. Yes, P looked like an idiot. He later apologized to T, but I can hear him hammering on poor T right now. If you'll excuse me, I've got some ass to kick. Don't worry, I'll keep my cool.

10 Minutes.

2005-09-08T07:43:00.000-05:00

It's in the first ten minutes that my day is decided. Honestly. I typically wake up feeling either a) In a great mood and energized (this is rare) or b) In a terrible mood and tired. Unfortunately these ten little minutes have a strangle hold over the rest of the day. I've tried to change that, over and over again. The phenomenon persists.

As Immanuel Kant would argue, a phenomenon is an object as perceived by the senses. I'm particularly sensitive to how I perceive whatever situation I'm in. Some people maintain a positive interpretation to sensory cues of their current situation. I'm beginning to think that I'm simply a negative person. As such, the phenomena I perceive are continually interpreted as negative.

When I was young, I was encouraged to never be satisfied, to always strive for more. At what point does that attitude become a detriment? I wonder if that approach simply feeds a negative interpretation of your situation. I mean, really, is saying that nothing is ever good enough a good idea? If that's the case, then how does one combat complacency and despondency?

Backdoor Access.

2005-09-07T07:49:00.000-05:00

Being a graduate student at Fancypants University does have its perks. Yesterday we recieved free laptop computers. These computers are gifts. We do not return them to the department when we've finished. They are ours and ours alone. We were given options, I chose an IBM T43. Oh mama, is it sweet.

When we received our computers, I noticed that they didn't come packaged. Rather, computer services configured the computers for us. As I looked through the user profile for my computer, I noticed a couple of extra profiles. "What the hell," I thought.

V: Excuse me, my computer has some freaky extra accounts on it.
IT: Yes, if you get a free computer, we need to be able to access it at all times. Don't even think about removing those accounts.

Apparently IT services will, from time to time, log on to your computer and check everything out. Seems like a decent deal. I am getting a pricey laptop for free, after all. Then again, this is my laptop. It is my property now.

Last night, I guess I accidentally erased their backdoor access to my computer. This morning I received an e-mail: "Please come speak with IT about your lack of suitable access to your computer." I'll ignore their message. It's my computer, damn it!

The Comedian.

2005-09-06T08:01:00.000-05:00

Graduate student orientation begins today. It's a one week affair. Safety training, ice cream socials and fancy dinners await the incoming graduate students. Actually, Fancypants University does a pretty bang up job of making students feel welcome.

The one part of orientation I hate -- introductions. Here's where you stand up in front of the faculty and other students and tell them who you are, where you're from and what you're about.

Everytime I go to one of these events, people always have clever things to say when they introduce themselves. Not me. I usually end up saying something like, "Yeah, umm... Hi, I'm Vavoom, ummm... erh, I'm glad to, ummm... be here and yeah."

There's always one guy/gal that's an absolute riot, a true comedian. It's as if they practiced some zingers to deliver to the crowd. I'm thinking about starting off with something like, "As a graduate student, I'll tell you, I get no respect, no respect at all..."

I'm glad orientation has come. Finally I'll meet my classmates and get this year started.

How are you with public speaking? Any interesting incidents you'd like to report?

Working Vacation.

2005-09-05T09:45:00.000-05:00

Ahh, Labor Day. The lab is empty. No need to deal with moronic politics. No need to deal with nonsense. It's just science today. I can sit down, listen to Sufjan Stevens' Illinoise and get my work done in peace. It's days like today that bring back the days of building devices in my parent's garage and mixing random chemicals together in the backyard. Science is fun again.

I've decided to try and implement an electronic filtering system. Maniacal fiends, egocentric jerks, political butt kissers and their subsequent signals are all being sent straight to ground. Honestly, I won't survive here at Fancypants University if I allow anything other than science affect me.

From now on, I'll allow the peace of doing what I love govern my lifestyle here. If I can pull that off, there'll be no need for tropical beaches and hammocks. I'll be on vacation every day of my life.

Political Football.

2005-09-02T08:04:00.000-05:00

I couldn't sleep last night. I was exhausted. Fortunately, I have the NFL channel. I've been watching replays of NFL exhibition games. At ~3:30 AM, I hear one announcer say, "Well, you've got to wonder if Katrina will open the door for the Saints to move to Los Angeles. The NFL has had a gaping hole in the LA area."

Fantastic. These people have lost their homes, their city, and this moron is suggesting that they lose their football team as well. Wonderful.

I can't stand opportunists. I wish I could deck every loser that wants to profit from this catastrophe. Have you seen other examples of sort of crap recently? Stretching further, do you feel that the rescue effort is being handled well? Has the federal government done enough to help those in need?

Swept Away.

2005-09-01T08:32:00.000-05:00

As I walked into work today, I saw a street sweeper or "disinfectant wagon" drive by. I had noticed the sorry, polluted state of the street before the sweeper approached. It was incredible. The sweeper passed, what with it's 10 rotating brushes, and picked up next to none of the garbage. "What a fantastic use of taxpayer dollars," I thought.

In fact, I've never seen a street sweeper that's really effective at picking up garbage. They usually just brush all the garbage to the curb. What the hell?

Ever the investigator, I decided to look into the street sweeping craze in every city. Apparently street sweeping may help reduce air and water pollution. Another article reinforced this notion. In fact, street sweepers are often designed to pick up small particulates. The big trash is just gravy.

I'm still skeptical. Considering vehicular cost ($200,000 for a new wagon) and the cost of a person to drive it, are street sweepers really an effective use of taxpayer dollars?

Give It Up.

2005-08-31T08:45:00.000-05:00

Alright. I've been in Boston for three weeks and have met only 2 new people. I'm out there, but the other students in my class haven't arrived yet. That has Vavoom feeling a tad lonely.

Lucky me -- I've got all of you to keep me company.

Today I have a simple request. Leave a comment. Any comment. I want to hear about your ingrown toenails, your new cordless phone, your plans for the weekend, anything. I know many of you visit and don't leave your calling card. I need you.

I'll start with my comment about nothing. I'm a sucker for hats. I bought one yesterday that's similar to Gilligan's hat, but it's rust colored. It's a preposterous hat, but I love it and I'm wearing it all day today.

Your turn. Help me cure my loneliness. Tell me something, anything.

Animal Magnetism.

2005-08-30T07:41:00.000-05:00

My brother is a physician. I've begged him to call me whenever something strange happens in the emergency room. Last night, I got a call.

To imagine how ridiculous all of this is, let's imagine that you're a construction worker. You find two magnets at your job site. Each one is shaped like a half donut. There are signs stating that these are high powered magnets, not to be disturbed. What would you do? With the assistance of your friends, would you pry them apart and then decide to put them on your penis, thereby forming the world's heaviest magnetic cock ring?

Well, that's exactly what some guy did yesterday.

The story doesn't end there. Imagine the pain is terrible. You decide you'd like to take these magnets off. Gosh, it hurts. You decide to try and use a wrench to get them off. Imagine that you've never heard of ferromagnetism. Guess what? The wrench clings to your magnetic friends downstairs. Now you have a heavy wrench and two magnets attached to your penis.

According to my brother, the emergency room is notified that a patient is coming via phone. He picked up the phone and heard, "Male, something years old, heavy magnets and wrench attached to penis." Typically, my brother has to figure out what resources he'll need to treat the incoming patient. He yelled out, "I need a pile of KY jelly and muscle relaxers, STAT!" All of the nurses turned, looked at him and broke out laughing.

Man, I'm in the wrong business. Nothing that bizarre ever happens around here.

Networking.

2005-08-29T02:45:00.000-05:00

Have you ever stopped to think how many life changing moments you've had? Really, on how many occasions could you say that your life changed as a result of some moment in time or string of events?

As usual, it's 3 AM and I can't sleep. While lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling I asked myself, "Vavoom, how many times can you look back and say 'Man, that changed everything...'?"

I'd rather not delve into some convoluted discussion of network theory, but in a sense, don't all of our decisions and subsequent experiences formulate a web of possibilities? I'm relatively young. As such, I can only point to a few moments that have changed my life significantly. Since its late and continuing with the online show and tell that is Tedrow Drive, I'll share one moment that changed my life years ago:

I had received the call. They said it was a heart attack. A pretty bad one. I hurried home and saw my father in the post operative clinic. I looked at him. I couldn't believe that he was sick. My Father, sick? It's not possible. "Hi Dad, can you hear me?" His eyes open slightly. He tried to speak, but couldn't. From his dry, cracked lips, a slightly recognizable smile emerged from his face. "You're gonna be alright, Dad, everything's going to be alright." Suddenly, his smile disappeared. He clutched my hand slightly and in an instant his hand went limp. Alarms sounded. I was quickly pushed away by the medical team. They huddled around him and yelled medical jargon back and forth at one another. "This is it. He's going to die," I thought. For reasons that even now I can't explain, I ran out of the room. "He's dying, get back in there," I told myself. All I could do is lean my head up against the nearest wall and sob. I spent an hour, motionless against that wall. Suddenly, I felt a hand on the small of my back. "He's going to be okay, Vavoom. He needs to rest. He's stabilized. You can see him tomorrow morning."

My Father's illness to this day terrifies me. It's certainly changed my perspective on life. Certainly I've learned how to cope with it. Still, the day I learned of his heart condition is one that I'll never forget. My Father suddenly became mortal. I can't help but think, had he died I would have never forgiven myself for leaving the room.

As always, I'm curious. What are some events that have changed your life? How do you think things would have changed had you acted differently?

Shredding Documentaries.

2005-08-26T07:39:00.000-05:00

If you take a look at the definition of a documentary, you'll find the following:

1. Consisting of, concerning, or based on documents.
2. Presenting facts objectively without editorializing or inserting fictional matter, as in a book or film.

As a young pup in college, I took a fantastic history course from a Pulitzer Prize winning historian. I went to his office hours once to tell him about a great documentary I viewed. His response, "Vavoom, a good documentary leaves out the opinion of the creator. It allows a balanced view of a situation through the perspective of many that witnessed or played an active role in the event or phenomena in question. I'm afraid the documentary you watched does not meet those high standards."

Last night I watched "Supersize Me." It was interesting, it was funny, it was an editorial masterpiece. Yes, I agree with the premise of the movie -- we're fat and have poor nutritional habits and influences. Yet I didn't feel like the movie was really a documentary by definition, certainly not by the standards my old history professor set.

The same thing goes for Fahrenheit 911. Again, I agree that W is not the sharpest tool in the shed, we went to war in Iraq for the wrong reasons, etc. Still I can't help but cringe when I watch Michael Moore editorialize. His perversions of the truth are tantamount to fascist propaganda. Yes, I said that -- fascist propaganda. That's not to say that the Bush Administration isn't guilty of twisting the truth as well. Just as much as George W. Bush may be failing as a President, Michael Moore is a failure as a documentary maker.

Have we lost touch with what a true documentary should be? Have we learned to use editorials to validate our own opinions and feelings, thereby dooming the potential success of balanced studies of worldly events? What do you think, is the documentary a lost art?

Gas Leak.

2005-08-25T09:33:00.000-05:00

I took the elevator this morning. I simply wasn't willing to climb stairs. As I entered the elevator I decided that now was a good time to let go of some back pressure. To put it politely, I expelled gas. I was alone, nobody would notice... or so I thought.

Two men entered the elevator carrying two cylinders of gas, each. They started talking and one of them suddenly said, "Oh shit, do you smell that? You got a sulfur tank, right? It could be leaking. Hurry up, we've got to get out of this elevator!" As the doors opened, the other student said, "Hey, you, don't stay in here... it's full of sulfur!"

I simply couldn't let these guys think they had a leaky tank. "Actually... I'm the one with the leak. It's not your tank. Sorry." "Oh, Jesus... that's fucking gross," one of them mumbled. They stepped out of the elevator onto their floor. As the elevator doors closed, I observed the look of disgust on their faces. I couldn't help but laugh hysterically. Not a bad way to start the day, methinks.

Poopapalooza.

2005-08-24T09:00:00.000-05:00

You all know that I think poop is hilarious. I went to dinner last night and had the time of my life swapping poop stories and jokes with someone. This got me thinking, what makes poop so funny? Nothing, really. It's just one of those things that makes me laugh.

What gets you giddy? Is there something that you find hilarious that is strange or otherwise not funny to the general public? What do you think formulates our preferences, humor wise?

The Socialites.

2005-08-23T08:15:00.000-05:00

It's never ceased to amaze me, politics. They were present at Berkeley. They're present here at Fancypants University. It's absolutely incredible the level of commitment I've seen people make to politics. Nearly all of the scientists I interact with are more focused on social climbing than they are on science.

I've argued time and again that science is in deep doo doo. Pardon the venom that cometh. I'm frustrated.

There exists members of my current group that are some of the worst scientists I've ever met. Honestly, I've tried hard to find scientifically redeeming qualities in each person. They just don't have "it." I've found that politics and social climbing are inversely related to scientific prowess. Of course that's a qualitative observation.

The aforementioned group members are vicious. They'll back stab, lie, cheat and steal to make it to the top. Of course, when someone "important" is around, they'll strap on their gear and start climbing the wall of social status. They don't really care about science. No, they're here to build upon their already inflated egos.

I'm sure this exists in every field. How do you folks cope with such nonsense?

Lesson Learned.

2005-08-22T10:01:00.000-05:00

I just returned from A2's seminar. I came ready to thrash. During his talk, I wrote down notes, found the fatal flaws in his reasoning and subsequent experiments. Honestly, it was one of the worst talks I've been to in a long while. When the talk was over, my posture changed. I was ready to attack.

The second that his talk was over, a flurry of hands reached for the sky.

A2: Yes.
P1: I find your reasoning completely unfounded -- you claim to have proven X, Y and Z, but have simply asserted that through experiments that do not address X, Y and Z at all.
A2: Well...
P2: I agree with P1, I don't really see how your conclusions are justified at all through your experiments.

It went on like this for about 20 minutes. Everyone took their turn smacking the kid around like a pinata. By the end, I thought we'd all have delicious tootsie rolls in our hands. Suddenly his advisor's voice reverberated through the hall:

"I agree with the criticism of your work. It seems like you haven't thought things through at all. I'm disappointed."

I've never seen someone get manhandled so badly in my short scientific career. This guy was being schooled and I didn't have to get involved. As I walked by him on my way out, he was clearly shaken.

Outside the room I overheard two faculty members speaking to Prof. Stuffy. I quote, "I know, I know... what can I do? The kid is arrogant and generally has a bad attitude. Hopefully this situation will ground him a bit."

A Preview.

2005-08-19T08:15:00.000-05:00

Overheard in the elevator at Fancypants University:

A1: Man, that janitor is such a f*cking idiot. God, how do service people live with themselves?

A2: C'mon, we need idiots like that to empty the garbage. Think about it... we're at Fancypants University. We're the intellectual elite in this country, the cream of the crop... we can't expect everyone to be like us.

A1: I guess you're right. I guess it's alright to have lesser downs around here, as long as they're pushing a broom.

V: Hey, I couldn't help but overhear. My name is Vavoom. I work for Prof. Bigshot.

A1: Hi, I'm asshole #1.

A2: I'm asshole #2.

V: Who do you guys work for?

A1: We work for Prof. Stuffy.

A2: Yeah, I'm giving a seminar on Monday. You're welcome to come. Just don't bring any idiot janitors with you.

A1: Hahahaha.

V: No, but I'll be there. Let me ask you this -- you think you're so good that you're better than the janitors, right? Since you're so good, I'll be at your talk. I'll be asking questions. We'll see how good you really are.

I'm going to spend the weekend in Cape Cod. On Monday, I'll be back to teach this boy a lesson he'll never forget.

The Optimist.

2005-08-18T07:36:00.000-05:00

Color me optimistic, but I've always believed that people are fundamentally good. Yes, hope springs eternal in my mind -- I truly believe that I'll eventually find a working environment where people are decent to one another, a place where politics and greed don't abound.

I had originally started in science, firmly believing that it was a noble undertaking. How could it not be? It is the search for truth in an environment of learners and teachers. Of course, I've learned that a considerable amount of science is conducted in the harshest of political arenas -- academia.

I've only worked in one company my entire life. There the social milieu was not unlike the academic one. Given my limited experience, I can only surmise that the political ferocity that I observe in academia is present in every job.

The last few days, I've been rather pensive. I'd like to spend my life in service of others, absent all of the nonesense that accompanies human organizations. I haven't figured out what that magical job is, but I'm optimistic I'll figure it out.