One down . . .

Yup, the first semester of my Ph.D. career is over, and I came out smelling like a rose with two A's (physiology and fishes) and a B (conservation bio seminar). The end grades of finals and the CBS paper were lower than my previous standards, but considering everything that's happened in the last month, I think I still did pretty darned well.

Funny how I haven't had any tight neck muscles or stress headaches for four days.

So what am I doing with myself until I head home on Friday? Reading the newest Laurell K. Hamilton, watching TV and a couple of movies, playing the new Bejeweled on MSN games, collecting research articles to read over the break, and making fudge. Yes, you heard correctly, making fudge. The kind you actually have to cook and get to a certain temperature and all that jazz. Well, my attendant Natalie cooked it, but I picked out and read the recipe! Still waiting for it to cool, but I'll let you know how it came out.

It actually got cold here in NO. Today's high was 45 degrees with 10-15 MPH winds. A might chilly, especially living on the lake. I've heard it's as cold or colder at home, so I told Dad to warm up ye olde chili pot. Mmm, I can hardly wait.

Aquarium of the Americas

Took a break from studying today (we'll just pretend I actually HAD been studying, OK?) to go to the aquarium. My friend Amy was back in town to do some training with JASON, and she and her fellow trainee Pat had the weekend free. I hopped the bus to the Quarter (no sprained ankles this time), met up with the ladies, and we headed off. We ran into Hector (the tech in Barney's lab) as he was also on his way to the aquarium for his weekly volunteer session, so I got to introduce Amy to one of my new science-geeky pals down here.

I've heard as aquaria go, this one is not that remarkable. I, however, enjoyed it immensely. The Gulf of Mexico exhibit was one of my favorite stops where I quizzed myself on how many of those blasted fish I could remember from the lab practical. Amazing how different they look alive versus preserved for thirty or forty years!

Favorite exhibit number one was the seahorses. Three tanks had hundreds of tiny babies, and one bigger tank had several hugely "pregnant" males. Poor guys looked miserable. Amy and I marveled at what evolutionary processes could POSSIBLY have driven the development of seahorse shape, then we saw the seadragons. Also a seahorse, these guys have multiple protrusions all over their bodies which mimic the vegetation in which they hide. Obvious advantage, but the energetic cost to maintain! It boggles the mind . . . . OK, maybe just mine, but I'm a nerd like that.

Favorite exhibit number two was the jellies. I LOVE jellyfish and comb jellies. So delicate, so beautiful, so relaxing to watch, so dangerous. Reba, though, was not impressed. She liked the jacks and sharks and rays and pretty much everything NOT a jellyfish -- they move more quickly and apparently are much more entertaining doggie TV.

Speaking of rays . . . saw an incredible one. Called simply an orange-spotted ray, it is all-over pure, unadulterated black (total absence of color black) with orange spots. The contrast was astoundingly beautiful, and it looked as soft as velvet though I KNOW it was rough as sandpaper.

Man, I love Nature.

World AIDS Day

I was reading an article on Yahoo earlier this evening about a widowed woman in Pakistan who has been fighting a monumental battle to make her country more aware of HIV. She contracted HIV from her husband in 1995 who received infected blood in Africa after an accident -- he has since died from the disease. She has never had money for meds, she has two children, and she lives in a conservative Muslim nation which not only is in denial about the presence of HIV/AIDS in general but doesn't listen to women, widowed or otherwise. I was simply in awe of her bravery and determination. How many of us would just decide to live our life in the best way we could and just be with those children? Would any of us have the guts to speak out to those who don't want to listen because of our gender? This woman has been speaking out for nine years. NINE YEARS of no one really listening, and still she keeps going, keeps talking, keeps ramming the issue down the throats of those who have closed their eyes.

How many of us would have that kind of courage? How many of us have read about someone living with HIV or AIDS and said, "They probably deserved it, being like THAT." THAT is not the issue the majority of the time. The issue is that there are thousands, millions, of men and women and CHILDREN living every day with this disease that eats them from the inside out, and too many of us would shun them if we met them. I've known a couple of people with HIV, went out with one of them, and I'm here to tell you that they deserve our attention and our admiration for fighting a battle that for right now has only one, terrible end.

I admire that Pakistani woman, I admire that man I went out with, and I could only hope that I would be as brave in the face of a terrible disease that NO ONE should have to suffer. Tonight, I light a candle in honor of all those who are battling HIV and AIDS, and I pray that each day one more person's eyes and heart can be opened, and I pray for a cure.

Fish, hospitals, and other fun stuff

Got the fish exam back. After the prof threw out questions and gave bonus points and generally waved his magic wand, he gave me a 100. Counting myself rather lucky as after all those manipulations, half the class still flunked -- including Jackie, one of my study partners. I couldn't even be happy for my good grade because I was so upset that she and several others with whom I studied did so badly.

My grandfather passed away on 21 November after years of heart trouble. I took all my energy and poured it into one of my papers, thus finishing my physiology paper three days before it was due. Paul has been in and out of the hospital several times since my last entry. He originally went in to a Wichita hospital on 11 November with pneumonia, got out the 15th, went to Mom and Dad's because he was still having breathing issues and didn't want to be alone for hours, went in to the McPherson hospital on the 17th with a severe asthma attack, got out the 22nd, went back in to Mac via an ambulance because he stopped breathing, was transferred to Hutchinson Hospital, and he is still there. I don't think they've quite figured out what's going on, but he is doing better because he sat up in his chair for at least six hours today without much breathing trouble -- a marked improvement over the 15 or 20 minutes of a couple of days ago.

Had a nice visit with my friend Amy on the 16th, despite my slide on the city bus on my way to the Quarter when the bus driver didn't tie down my w.c., slammed on the brakes, and made me slide into a woman and sprain my left ankle. Fun fun. Amy's back in town this Wednesday until the following Tuesday.

Have my presentations on Tuesday (conservation bio seminar) and Friday (physiology). Barney has arranged for Chad's and my Biology of Fishes class to come hear our presentations. Fun fun.

Finals are a week away, and I haven't typed any of my notes yet or done any reading, nor have I started studying the fish bones. Fun fun.

The Fish exam is over . . .

. . . and to say it sucked a-- is being very kind indeed. If I pulled a C on it, I was freaking lucky. So, all the hours of studying and lack of sleep the last two weeks were basically for naught.

I'm going to go play Bejeweled.

OK, let's see if I can catch you up

::Dawn peeks out from behind a jar holding a specimen of Sphyrna tiburo and another holding a bunch of Notropis longirostris::

What's been going on in NO?

Voted on the second -- didn't do a darned bit of good, but I can safely count myself among the 49% who can say "I didn't vote for him" as we become more and more alienated from the world community and our environmental and social standards fall further and further back into the Dark Ages. ::sigh::

My stint as an undergraduate research advisor has been interesting to say the least. One group of my four has completed its experiments (I think) and needs to do some data analysis -- time to brush off that ol' biostats book I asked my mom to mail me! A second group had a *minor* (is your sarcasm meter going off?) setback when all but 30 of their 150 madtoms (relative of the catfish) died within a day of being captured. No, they hadn't done an experiment. A third group can't keep its artificial milk-crate reef together in Lake Ponchartrain. We've had a lot of wind the last week or so. Lots of wind = lots of waves = plastic milk crates washing up on shore and/or busting all to pieces. Haven't heard anything from the fourth group.

As to my own classes -- I've been putting in an average of 10-12 hour days on campus for about a week now (although I managed to stay home all day today -- yee-haw). I have two papers with presentations to finish in a week and a half (physiology) to two weeks (seminar). The physiology presentation is no longer during a class session but at some as-yet-undetermined time outside of class. ::sigh:: Like I have time for that. I have 121 species of fish to learn to identify on sight by this Friday, and all I have to say about that is "damn minnows." Actually, they were upgraded to a more colorful expletive last week, but I don't want to hurt some folks' delicate sensibilities. Oh yeah, and fish bones. Let's not forget dem bones, dem bones.

My bro is in the hospital with pneumonia. He's doing well and should be out Monday.

My pal Amy is in town the first part of this week, so we're going to hang together in the Quarter Tuesday night. She may also be back in town Dec. 2-6, so I may get to see her again then. Will be a nice break before my finals on the 7th and the 10th. My advisor Barney invited me to go with him and his family to the Hammond RenFaire next weekend. Need to see if I can afford to rent a van -- I'd sure love to go since I haven't had my Fall Faire fix.

Will head home on Dec. 17th, and will stay until Jan. 7th.

::Dawn heads back under her piles of articles and behind her jars of fish::

Maybe I'll declare myself Empress of Louisiana

http://rumandmonkey.com/widgets/tests/lunatics/">%20src=" Historical Lunatic Are You?
From'>http://rumandmonkey.com/">From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.

No time, no time, I need Thanksgiving to catch up

And that's about all the time I can afford to put in to an entry. Wouldn't even do that right now except some count on this for updates.

Oy, what a weekend

Had a pretty nice, relaxing day today, which is great since I was having such a cranky, crabby, weepy, depressed afternoon and evening yesterday.

I talked to my long lost Uncle Dave in Alaska Friday night and got a good laugh out of his reaction when I told him I had found my way back to Louisiana. For those who have never heard me talk of my "Uncle" Dave, he was/is my dad's best friend from the days they were stationed at Barksdale Air Force Base near Shreveport, LA -- so I've known him since I was about four. I can't remember the last time I talked to him, and it was wonderful to hear his voice.

I spent most of Saturday working on my fish endothermy paper (which, incidentally, I should be working on right now), occasionally taking a break to try to return my mom's call or talk to my aunt or check in on the Camp Chihowa reunion. Regarding the last, a bunch of campers and attendants from way back when rented our old campground for a reunion. I talked to several pals I haven't talked to in a long time, all of whom asked where I was and none of whom thought my busy grad student schedule was an excuse for missing the gathering. No, truly, they understood, but I was sorry I didn't make it.

Then, during a study break, I decided to catch up on my pals' online journals, and that's when it started. My pal Scottish Neko is having one of those weeks, and I was upset that I wasn't there to try to help. That got me to thinking about my pack/circle, which is not a good idea because I am incredibly hormonal at this current point in time. Most days I can ignore how much I miss them, but I couldn't distract myself from it for some reason last night. I tried calling Naomi, then I tried Mouse and Lady, and no one was home. That just seemed to make it worse. I talked to Paul on the computer, but he was rather uncommunicative and soon found something else better to do. My cuzzie Sarah helped a little by getting me giggling about her mom, but it was only a minor distraction. By the time I got in bed (particularly late because my attendant, who is observing Ramadan and had fixed herself a large supper and consumed it after sundown, had fallen asleep), I was wallowing in ridiculous, hormone-super-charged loneliness and wishing I had no ovaries. I lay in bed, thinking about how I only have two people with whom I have had decent, non-school-related conversations in two months, which I actually consider pretty good since I don't make friends easily. Too introverted -- always have been.

But I slept, and in the night my hormones died down a bit, and I'm back to my Polyanna self. OK, maybe not Polyanna, but I'm feeling much better. Natalie (one of the two with whom I have conversations) came over because she wanted to learn how to make soap. After a few hours of that, which always relaxes me, she helped me up onto the levee and we walked around and let Reba and Mayu play. Now I'm waiting on my spinach and feta pizza to be delivered, hopefully by the same goofy but cute guy who delivered my pizza last time, and I think I'll work some more on my paper or try Naomi or Mouse and Lady again. I'm where I want to be, I'm where I'm meant to be, and things are working out.

Oh man, I *am* turning into Polyanna. Her, or Stewart Smalley.

Thought-provoking lesson from one of my lists

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil, without saying a word. In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me, what do you see?"

"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg. Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?"

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity, boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

"Which are you?" she asked her daughter. "When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?"

Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength? Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does myshell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart? Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get betterand change the situation around you. When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?

The Fish Exam

That one turned out pretty well, too. I wasn't as worried about it going in or coming out of the exam -- although my dreams might beg to differ. I dreamt I lost ten points for not using complete sentences. Naturally, that didn't happen (the loss of ten points, that is). So, my grad studies are off to a nice start, despite hurricanes and unautomated apartment doors and rumors of romantic affiliations (no, I'm not seeing or interested in anyone, nor is anyone interested in me, contrary to my attendant Audrey's implications).

Now to get these pesky papers done . . . .

How did THAT happen?

I managed to pull a raw score of 91% on my physiology exam. Add to that 5 points which were Barney's concession that the exam might have been a TAD too long, and I have a 96%.

I'm still in shock.

Just a few seconds to say . . .

. . . AAUUGGHH! OK, I'm feeling much better now.

I had a physiology exam on Monday that SUCKED -- was too long to satisfactorily complete in 50 minutes. I finished it with 30 seconds to spare, but I didn't get to go back and add anything to my answers to make them better. Spent the majority of Tuesday in the lab watching Barney and Chad set up a gel to try for what seems to be the twelfth or fifteenth time to elucidate a particular protein from a particular fish cell line. Have I mentioned there's a REASON I don't like molecular stuff? So basically Tuesday went something like this -- dash to lab, have impromptu meeting of only Barney's lab because grad student from other lab who was supposed to conduct the meeting was at the police station filing a report on his stolen car (right from in front of his house), hash out amongst the five of us exactly what experiment we're going to run, calculate volumes of proteins needed to load gel, load gel, hook it up to electricity and let run, eat lunch, go to class, go back to lab to check progress, run home to pee, go back to lab to see results of gel transfer and staining, go to supper with Chad, finally go home and STAY home, begin studying for Fish exam on Friday by reading in text. Wednesday brought two classes, a meeting with Fish prof to find out what we grad students are supposed to do on Friday as far as directing the undergrad research projects (Chad and I are contemplating studying in the library so we can't be found -- yeah, it's going to be THAT interesting), a meeting with classmate Danielle to figure out what we were going to do for today's seminar class, then home to finish prepping for the seminar class and finish typing notes so I could really start studying for the Fish exam on Friday. Today I finally REALLY, TRULY started studying for the Fish exam on Friday, which was/is quite a feat because it's cloudy, dreary, and cool -- just want to curl up with The Spiral Dance or the new Laurell K. Hamilton and a good cuppa. Sigh. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

Rain, rain, and more RAIN

Ugh. That's about all I can say. It's been raining pretty steadily for about 48 hours now, thanks to Tropical Storm Matthew. Haven't checked the radar lately, but I'm hoping he gets out of the 'hood pretty soon -- I don't want to miss my physiology exam on Monday. No, I do not have a Hermione complex in which I like exams, it's just that I have another one on Friday plus a lot of reading and preparing for my seminar class in between, and I just want this phys test OVER. Even if it ain't gonna be pretty. And it ain't.

And then there was science-type stuff to do

Actually did some science the other day -- well, sort of. We had our weekly lab meeting in the a.m. at which Barney informed us he was expecting some cichlids (that's an African fish, for those who don't know) from the University of Florida, and thus he was organizing a fish killing party. His phrasing, not mine. Barney does a lot of protein assays and had apparently been performing some on cichlid tissues following protocols and analyses for killifish before suddenly thinking, "What if these protocols aren't valid for cichlids?" I'm thinking "Duh" because cichlids are African freshwater fish and killifish are North American estuarine fish (the species Barney uses, for the most part), but what do I know? Anyway, Barney decided he wanted to do some standardization, so we got to whack fifteen fish and dissect out their livers, hearts, brains, and bits of white muscle. We set up a bit of an assembly line -- Chad dunked a fish into liquid anesthesia (a POSSIBLE carcinogen, keep that in mind for later in the story) then measured weight, standard length, and total length, I recorded said measurements, Barney dissected and placed the tissues separately into tubes, and Sunil (our undergrad, keep that in mind for later in the story, as well) dunked the tubes in liquid nitrogen before storing them on dry ice until everything was finished.

Things were going well while Barney dissected and was basically keeping an eye on Sunil, but that only lasted for three fish. Then Barney had to take care of a gel he was running, Hector took over dissecting, Chad and I traded jobs, and Sunil the not-as-anally-retentive-as-the-rest-of-us starting slacking off. I turned around at one point to see him fishing for a tube in the bottom of the nitrogen container that he had just tossed in instead of holding suspended with forceps as Barney had told him to do. I politely mentioned he probably wanted to refrain from doing that anymore, but he didn't take me too seriously. As he was digging for another tube later, lamenting about how difficult it was to find amid all the "smoke" pouring from the container, Barney turned around and caught him. He chastised him minorly, but he really lit into him when he opened the ice chest and found the tubes arranged in a pretty haphazard manner. Chad, Hector, and I just looked at each other and tried not to laugh.

I was excused from the three-ring-circus after six fish because I had class, and I erroneously thought all the fun and games would be over by the time I got out. No. The boys had not gotten back to our little African friends in the two hours I had been gone. Unfortunately for Chad, Hector was gone, Barney was in a meeting, and I had to meet my attendant for a much needed potty break. That left him only goofball Sunil. I stuck around for one fish, recording data for Chad, when Sunil decided he would be helpful and take the fish out of the anesthesia for us. Chad told him he needed to remove some of the extra fluid from the fish, but instead of blotting Ms. Cichlid on a paper towel, Sunil starts shaking it. He's giggling like a screwball, and anesthesia (that possible carcinogen) is flying everywhere. Did I mention he was doing this eight inches from my face? Somehow, I managed to escape without getting a snootful of the stuff, but he did sling some in Chad's face. I not-so-politely mentioned that he might want to knock that the hell off. I vacated the lab shortly after that, leaving poor Chad to fend for himself. He's a big boy, he could handle it.

Don't get me wrong -- Sunil is not a complete moron. I just don't think he's as conscientious about details as the rest of us, which totally strikes me as weird since he's really into biochemistry. Well, that in and of itself is weird too, but I digress. He's just an odd duck who gives me the impression that he's being a clown so we'll like him. I like him best when he's not being a clown.

Adventures in Acadiana -- Part III

OK, hopefully this is the last installment -- and the first person to make a smart comment about how long it took me to complete this task is going to get thwacked upside the cranium.

Friday, Barney decided a trip to Grand Coteau was in order. GC is a small "village" near Lafayette where Jackie (B's wife) grew up and went to school. We started off with a visit to Jackie's folks' place in the country. Jackie's dad is a physics prof at the U of LA-Lafayette, and some years ago he and two other ULL profs (math and history, I think) went in together and bought a big chunk of land outside GC. On said land, they constructed three homes and a "community building" containing a swimming pool and other stuffs suitable for gathering. The Meriweather pad is this rustic, cabin-looking piece of beauty complete with a tin roof. Trees everywhere, silent as all get-out -- I LOVED IT. I was heading through the yard toward the house, watching the ground for pot-holes, when Barney advised me to stop right where I was and look up. It took me minute to see what he was talking about, but I momentarily realized I had nearly walked into the biggest spider web I have ever seen up close and personal, and the master designer was home. While the arachnophobic in me sent up a thanks that I hadn't given that big spider a reason to drop down on my head, the biologist in me had to admire the beauty of the web and its resident. The web was easily five feet across, and the spider was four or five inches across its legs. Jackie pointed out another web with a different type of spider just five feet away and explained that it was par for living there to watch for spiders EVERYWHERE. There was even webbing stretching from the roof of the house to a nearby tree, and leaves hung from it like a natural form of party decoration.

The house was small and cozy, with books in every room. You know I was in love. I perused Dr. Meriweather's personal library (Mrs. Meriweather's was on the second floor and thus unavailable to me), and I was surprised to find several volumes (I'm guessing first editions) of the Hardy Boys mysteries and closer-to-original-than-my-omnibus of the LOTR trilogy as three separate books. As I looked up and up the shelves to the ceiling (yes, the man has floor-to-ceiling shelves), I just wanted to weep with jealousy. ONE DAY I, too, will have floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

Next it was into GC proper to have lunch at Catahoula's. For those who don't know, a catahoula hound is a breed that seems to be fairly unique to Louisiana (but I'm sure they can be found in other places, as well). The man who started this restaurant has a passion for them; he's also a regionally-well-known photographer, and his photos of catahoulas decorate the restaurant. My two major comments about Catahoula's concern the food and the manager. The food was exceptionally good -- a little pricey, but I truly have no complaints in this department since Al had insisted lunch was on him and gave us money as we left the house. Barney and I had an appetizer of crab cakes and for lunch I had the pan-fried catfish covered in crawfish etouffe. I ate so much I almost something. As to the manager, I have to go on record as saying, "Yum." Hey, I'm a red-blooded female with good vision (with my glasses), and I promised you all an honest reckoning of my trip, right? John (son of the restaurant's founder, not the founder himself) came over once to talk dogs because Reba, bless her little doggy heart, batted her browns at him several times. Some mutual harmless flirting later, John saw us to the door and even held it for me in that great Southern sense of politeness. Yeah, that was fun, especially since I don't have it in me to flirt much. As Gina said once, Stacy got all the flirting genes in our family.

After lunch, Barney took me to the Academy of the Sacred Heart, the Catholic girls school Jackie attended. The school was founded in 1821 and is the oldest continuously run Sacred Heart (maybe even Catholic overall) school in the US. There are one or two other schools in the US which were founded earlier but were closed at least once at some point in their histories. Sister Moreau showed me the chapel (which is where Barney and Jackie were married) and the shrine to St. John Berchmann. This is the site at which Berchmann performed his third miracle by curing a sister of a severe illness. I found the history of the school and the miracle very interesting, and Sister Moreau patiently answered my million and one "I'm not a Catholic, so could you please explain . . ." questions. I know enough Church history from Professor Gythiel's classes to follow most of what she told me about canonization procedures and such, and it was great to add more to my regional knowledge. Plus, I love old places, and this one (especially the shrine) felt so peaceful and sacred.

Friday night we went to the Festivals Acadiens kick-off to listen to some excellent music. We caught the end of a Cajun folk group and stayed through the interim to listen to an hour of a Zydeco group. The biggest kick of the night was watching Barney dancing and cutting loose. If you look at his picture on the UNO bio website, and he kind of looks preppy and . . . well . . . just not like a guy who dances to Cajun music. He gets cooler and cooler the more I know him.

Saturday we attended more of Festivals Acadiens -- listened to more music (and Barney and Jackie got to dance more), ate cracklings and fried soft-shell crab, and checked out local crafts on display. It was 100 degrees, but it was still a blast.

And now I'm off to meet some of my fellow members of the Biology Graduate Student Conviviality Association for a little fun and socialization at a place called d.b.a.

Adventures in Acadiana -- Part II

The trip to Lafayette began for me at about 4:45 a.m. on Wednesday, the 15th, when Jackie coaxed me out of bed. By 5:45 we were on our way out of NO, and that part was actually pretty easy. The city had opened up the "contraflow" the day before on I-10 West, meaning all four lanes (the two actually heading West and the two which normally go East) were open to the West. There was no going East on the 10 for several miles. We booked along fairly well for probably ten or fifteen miles, but the closer we got to Baton Rouge, the more bogged down we became. After a while, Barney had had enough and we got off the interstate and hit one of the state highways. While longer under ordinary circumstances, in the end we probably saved ourselves a lot of time and headaches. Plus this route was more interesting because we got to drive through a lot more bayou and several small towns and see lots and lots of sugarcane fields (even an abandoned sugar mill). Much more scenic than the 10. We made our way across the Mississippi over the Sunshine Bridge which is named for the LA governor who made popular the song "You Are My Sunshine." The river would be SOOO much more appealing without all the refineries.

Barney, Reba, and I arrived in Lafayette at about 12:30 (normally the trip takes about two and a half hours), and Jackie, the kids, Honey, and the three cats went on to Grand Coteau a few miles away to stay with Jackie's folks -- three adults, two children, two dogs, and three cats were a little too much for any one household. Barney's dad Al greeted me with two pink teacup roses and a "Welcome to Lafayette, young miss refugee." He and Kay (Barney's mom) are two of the most absolutely delightful people I've ever met. They went above and beyond the call of duty to accomodate me and my needs by arranging for a portable commode so I could use the restroom and talking to a CNA and a nurse they knew to help me in and out of bed. Barney and I spent Wednesday just relaxing while Al finished up his work day with his patients and Kay went to her arts in film class. In the early evening we went for a walk down the street and back. The street on which Kay and Al live is basically a dead end, and at the dead end was a mansion. Not the huge, fancy kind like in the Beverly Hillbillies or even a big plantation home for which the South is famous, just a simple, square, brick, large structure. I can't even really explain to most why I was so enamored of the place (except maybe to the Pack and Hywela), but I loved it and its surroundings instantly. It was abandoned and clearly had been for some time as evidenced by the yard, but the ENERGY. I wanted to get a picture of the place, but it was torn down before I could do it. Yeah, you read that correctly -- in the short space of four days, it was gone. The older couple who lived in it had died some time ago, and the grandchildren who inherited the estate were too stuck-up to want to mess with it. Instead of selling it to someone who would restore it and enjoy it, they tore it down. According to Kay, they want to build condos , but they're not likely going to accomplish that goal because of the covenant of the neighborhood which states only single family homes on the street. I'm still in mourning for that mansion.

Wednesday evening was spent eating salmon and talking. Al is a fount of knowledge, and I learned a lot about Louisiana and plantations and music and history and a dozen other things in the days I spent in the Rees home. I went to bed early that night.

Next morning, Barney knocked at the time we had agreed I'd get up, but I was pretty much still non-functional. I managed to roll my head over and crack open an eye (felt a little like Luta in a story I'm writing), but talking was pretty much out. Barney asked if I'd slept, and I nodded once. He asked if I wanted to sleep more, and I nodded again. The door closed, and I was zonked again. I managed to get up and bed-bathed and to breakfast while Al's famous cornbread was still hot, though. OK, so everyone else had already eaten, but who cares? Had a few of Kay's kumquat preserves on the cornbread and some juice, and after a bit Jackie and the kids arrived. Jackie was heading out to shop with her mom, and Barney, Kay, and I took the kids to the children's museum. It was quite a fun and interesting time. One room was about the LA Purchase and pioneer life, and the kids can dress up in pioneer clothes or even like a French officer or royalty. Another room was a cafe where the kids are the staff and take orders and serve the adults plastic food. I think that one was the biggest hit with all the kids, even over the bubble-making area.

After a semi-quick run through the gift shop where Anna got a mini deck of Old Maid cards, Patrick got one of those super bouncey balls, and Dawn got a piece of moss agate, we were off to Borden's Ice Cream for cones and shakes. Yum! Back to Kay and Al's where Barney started a big pot of spaghetti sauce. When he said he was taking me to a bird sanctuary while the sauce cooked, I asked Jackie to get me a disposable camera.

Lake Martin is the epitome of LA waterway/bayou with bald cypresses growing up out of it and an abundance of bird life which just happened to mostly be elsewhere while we were there. We did see quite a few egrets, lesser blue herons, and ibises, though. We got excited at one point because we thought we glimpsed a roseate spoonbill through the trees, but we were wrong. Darn it. I had my chair turned and I was looking out the driver's side for the tour, but about three quarters of the way around the lake Barney asked, "You like Medieval and Renaissance stuff, right?" He told me to turn my chair around and said, "What kind of person builds a castle in the swamp?" Right there off the shore of the lake was a home built to resemble the tower of a castle, looking perfectly in harmony with its surroundings. Loved it!

To be continued again . . . .

Just for fun

Found this on my pal Kendermouse's LiveJournal. I never pegged myself as Galadriel, but elves are my most favorite fantasy characters.

Galadriel

Possessing a rare combination of wisdom and humility, while serenely dominating your environment you selflessly use your powers to care for others.

Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.

Adventures in Acadiana -- Part I

Leave it to me to be in a place three and a half weeks, and without a vehicle for the first time in ten years, and have a hurricane hit. Ivan was the talk of campus all day Monday, 13 September, but no one really thought he was much of a threat -- not even when UNO announced it was shutting down at 4:30. I spent the afternoon educating myself on the bad and good locations to be in relation to a hurricane, but I was never really that worried. Then the Privateer staff came around and announced that there was a mandatory evacuation in place -- we were to be off the UNO campus by 2 p.m. Tuesday. Sure, and how do you suggest I do THAT? The campus and city police and the Red Cross disaster preparedness folks were less than helpful, to be VERY nice about it (the RC wasn't very prepared, in my opinion -- the guy ACTUALLY asked if someone could just put my power chair in an attic to save it from the water). My advisor Barney Rees had offered for Reba and I to come to his place within walking distance of campus, but how to get out of the city? Ivan was veering more and more Westward, and there was a very real possibility that he could slam NO. Great. Fabulous.

Option -- rent a wheelchair-accessible van from a company used by my pal Gina in the past. I called, and they actually had vans available. Hoorah. They delivered to Barney's house Tuesday afternoon, and he and his wife Jackie came to pick me up. We went back to their house and finished getting things ready to go to Lafayette, then we heard about the traffic. To say it was crowded is an understatement. We opted to leave early Wednesday morning in hopes that the traffic would thin out. Anna, Barney and Jackie's ten-year-old daughter, watched a little "Pirates of the Caribbean" while Patrick, the six-year-old, played in his room and Reba and Honey the Golden retriever played in the backyard.

Almost time for bed. To be continued . . . .

Killin' time

Engaging in study-avoidance behavior, and found this quiz on my pal Kendermouse's Live Journal.

I Am Coyote

Coyote is a fun-loving goofball and that fits you to a T. Playfully silly, you appear somewhat bumbling at times, and your goofy exterior sometimes makes people forget what a quick mind and razor wit hides behind that amiable grin. In the mythos of the Plains tribes, Coyote is also a Creator, and stole fire as a gift for mankind. Your gift to the world is the creative fire of your quick, capable mind.

Which'>http://www.isleofdreams.net/trickstertest.html">Which Trickster Are You?

I miss curb-cuts

The last three weeks in the big city have been a real eye-opener for me. Bigger isn't always better. Case in point -- opening a checking account. What should have been a nice, 15 or 20 minute walk to the bank turned into an hour plus ordeal -- one way -- when I encountered intersection after intersection without curb-cuts (one of these was a pretty major one). My childhood standby of going down driveways and then crossing the street was even out because this place has some WHACKED OUT driveways! They're really glorified curbs with not much incline at all. I opted for a nice two-minute bus ride home, but even that turned out to be a pain when the driver dropped me at Elysian Fields -- the opposite side of campus from where I needed to be. Admittedly, I should have told him to drop me at Founder's Road, but of all the places he could have dropped me, he left at the one corner onto campus with NO SIDEWALK! This little phenomenon (shut up, Paul) itself is interesting. There is no rhyme or reason to where the sidewalks are and where they aren't.

I feel I should call the city and petition for some freaking curb-cuts.

Dammit, I'm a Ph.D candidate, not a gimp advocate. Shut up, Anita -- I'm not interested in hearing about growth experiences.

Adventures in the Quarter -- Beignets, the Big Muddy, and Little Discoveries

Reba and I ventured to the Quarter yesterday. She did very well on the bus -- it helped that we didn't have psycho drivers slamming on brakes at every stop and making us slide around.

Our first stop was the infamous Cafe du Monde, home of world-reknowned beignets and coffee. After a long search for a table, I was invited to join a lovely couple at their table and proceeded to wait fifteen or twenty minutes for a waiter. I was thrilled to learn that my desire for sweets wasn't going to break me -- an order of three beignets and a cup of hot chocolate with tax came to three dollars even. Fabulous. OK, so it was a little to warm for hot chocolate, but I don't drink coffee (iced or otherwise) and I'd heard the chocolate was pretty darned tasty. It was. The funniest part about being at CdM was watching Reba watch the pigeons. The pigeons of course were fearless, and in their pecking up fallen bits of beignet one literally came within a foot and a half of Reba. She merely sat beside me and watched it VEEEERY intently, but she didn't make a lunge for it. I was so proud.

I ate only one beignet (loaded with powdered sugar and very sweet) and packed the other two to go, then we set off down Decatur Street to do a little sightseeing. After about a block or so, Reba started acting like she needed to find a patch of grass. We finally found one, and as she took care of business I noticed a sign at the top of the hill decrying River Walk. I found a ramp, and when we crested the hill, there was the mighty Mississip. We walked along it for a while, stopped to talk with a really nice older gentleman selling handmade jewelry (Nay, you shoulda been there -- he had a GORGEOUS moss agate necklace), and then just sat in the shade for a while and watched the boats go by. I'm thinking about checking to see if any of the steamboats are accessible.

The rest of the afternoon we just walked up and down a few blocks, occasionally going into this store or that shop to have a respite from the heat. One of our stops was at The Shops at Canal Place, an extremely ritzy-titsy place. No Gucci for this poor college girl. I did buy some over-priced incense at L'Occitane En Provence, but I figured I deserved to spoil myself a little. Lavender-amber, what a combo!

My other discovery (besides a few bars to visit when Mark and Amy come down -- there's actually a Coyote Ugly Saloon on Peters Street, but there were no women dancing on the bar when I went by) was a delightful second-hand bookstore called Beckham's. The first book I saw was my oft-coveted EO Wilson tome The Ants. Even here it was still out of my price range, but the price was better than new. There was also a very nice looking man carefully repairing a book in one of the side aisles. Hey, I notice these things.

All in all, Reba and I had a very nice, relaxing time in spite of the heat. I was a little disappointed I didn't see any of Decadence, but I never made it over to Bourbon Street. Oh well, there's always next year.

Just When You Thought You'd Seen It All #1 (revisited)

I saw the fairy again on Friday (and no, Kevin, I wasn't sipping absinthe all day). I asked one of my attendants if she had ever seen her (we were discussing strange things/people we'd seen), and while she hadn't seen her herself, her roommate had mentioned seeing her several times. Makes me wonder what this chick's story is.

In other news, I'm going to attempt to go down to Cafe du Monde tomorrow and have that beignet I've been wanting for three months. Promises to be an interesting people-watching experience since Southern Decadence is occurring this weekend.

Just When You Thought You'd Seen It All #2

My department had a party yesterday, and they actually had a keg on campus. I forget, this is the state with drive-through liquor stores.

Just When You Thought You'd Seen It All #1

Yesterday while on break from one of my classes, I saw a woman on campus dressed as a fairy. You heard me -- wings and all, crown of flowers, flowy skirt. I thought maybe she was in a performace or something until I noticed she was hauling a rolling book bag behind her. And I haven't even been to the Quarter yet . . . .

Was just reading my pals' LiveJournals (Moonled, Kender, Roulette, and Psilence), which I'm realizing wasn't a good idea right now. Makes me miss them.

I'm here in the Big Easy

I made it to New Orleans, and I seem to FINALLY be getting settled in. I'm still working out the attendant care stuff, and hopefully that too will begin to get regulated shortly.

The stress all started Friday morning. Mom and I had been to the post office to get her paycheck and were on our way to the credit union to cash it when we heard this obnoxious knocking noise under the van. We thought it was just a flat tire, but when Mom got out to investigate, all the tires were up. We limped to my grandparents' for assistance just to discover they weren't home. One of my aunts who works for the city of Moundridge said we could use her mini-van to get to the airport, and by the time Mom got said van back to where I was, my grandparents had come home. Bob (my step-grandfather) had a little wooden ramp he uses to load equipment into the back of his pickup, so we backed up the van to the curb and I drove up the ramp into the back. Grandma hopped in with us and we were off to get vaccination papers for Reba and get to the airport.

We arrived at Louis Armstrong in the early evening to meet up with Dad at the apartment (he had driven down with a U-Haul load of my stuff), and after a couple of hassles getting checked in, I started moving my stuff into my TINY apartment. By the time all was said and done on Sunday, I had to send some of my possessions back to Kansas with my parents to be stored because I just couldn't find ONE MORE cranny to cram anything into. As if moving 900+ miles from home wasn't stressful enough, I started my period which made my hormones crazy and my emotions even crazier.

As to the apartment -- I can't get in and out by myself, and I have a tub (which is VERY inconvenient for me). I've talked to the associate director of the complex, and she seems willing to find a way to automate the apartment door and the complex gates, but I decided to get disability services in on the act to try to move the process along. I'm a Ph.D. student, for crying out loud -- I need to be able to come and go at my own whim, not have to coordinate with my attendants or call an apartment staff member or the police every time I want to check my email.

Speaking of that. I have to get my own phone, my own Internet, my own cable, AND I have to rent a university mailbox to receive my mail. Turns out the apartments are on university property but they are managed privately. I was so disgusted. Add to that the fact that their handicapped-accessible apartment isn't really handicapped-accessible, and I'm surprised I haven't had a massive anxiety attack!

On the plus side, the people in the bio department here have been wonderful. The grad secretary, Yvette, has already helped me get in bed once when I got in a jam, and she and Dr. Candace Timpte (biochem prof) helped me take a shower at the Rec Center yesterday where there actually WAS a roll-in shower. A couple of grad students have volunteered to go grocery shopping for me and/or run errands when I need something. All the profs I met in May remember my name three months later, my instructors are being extremely accomodating of my needs, and everyone is going out of their way to make this new kid feel welcome. Once I get the apartment accessible and get enough attendants to cover everything (and get my financial aid), I think I'll actually be able to start concentrating on school work and getting starting on my dissertation.

One final note to my circle/pack Nay, Mouse, Lady, Moonled, and Scottishneko -- I really miss you guys. To Pauley, thanks for the calls and for letting me vent and cry to you.

I'll send out my contact info in an email to everyone. Give me a month or so, and I'll be ready to accept visitors. I think I may even try to hop the bus this weekend and head down to Cafe du Monde for a beignet and a hot cocoa.

The plane tickets have been purchased, the lease has been electronically submitted, the new Gateway laptop (complete with Power Point for my inevitable presentations) has been ordered, the financial aid has been accepted -- I guess I'm almost ready for my big move to the Big Easy. I'll be leaving on a jet plane (OK, it's really a 30-seat puddle jumper) just before 1 p.m. on August 20th. Dad's driving down with my stuff, and Mom, Reba, and I will meet him at my campus apartment. I think they're staying in town until I go to class on Monday, which makes me happy because then I won't be spending my birthday on Sunday alone.

OK, some of you may be wondering -- how am I getting my van down to NO? I'm not -- for now, anyway. My present van is too worn out to make the trip, and my finances probably can't support a van payment for a little while. Because of state waiting lists, I'll be paying for my attendant care fully out of my own pocket for the time being, so until I get an idea of how much of a burden that is going to be, I'll try not to add more expenses than necessary. Truthfully, the only traveling I do once the semester gets going is to the grocery store, and if I remember correctly there's one within walking distance of campus. I'm going to try relying on public transportation for a semester and see how I manage. Hopefully it won't be a pain the backside.

Turns out, I have at least one faithful reader of my web journal, so I'm posting in order to make her happy (she was complaining that I hadn't posted since April).  A lot has happened since I posted last.

My story begins with a call from a graduate committee member at the University of New Orleans saying there existed a position and money for me if I could find an advisor.  A whirlwind 2 1/2 day trip to NO (JUST before finals, mind) and several emails later, I had an advisor, an acceptance letter to the conservation bio program, and a sweet financial hookup (tuition, including out-of-state fees, and a paycheck).  I've since been trying to line up medical and attendant care, both of which would go so much better if people would just RETURN MY MESSAGES!  Grumble, growl.  I've posted a help-wanted ad on Craig's list in NO for a PCA (thanks to the advice of my pal Kim) but haven't had any hits yet.  I'm not worried YET, but never fear, I'm sure I will begin to worry soon.

Then a week ago I get a phone call telling me the wife of a grad school bud had died of the cancer she'd been battling for a couple of years.  I was crushed.  I remember when Mark and Kala met, and it was one of those relationships which renews your faith in true love at first sight (at least until you remember it'll never happen to you).  Mark had recently been through an awful divorce in which he was swearing off women forever, then he took "a 2x4 shot to the backs of the knees" from Kala, and he was done for.  It was great to see.  I and three other bio geeks attended the funeral, and it was the second most memorable funeral I've ever attended.  Kala had had a lot of time to prepare, and her presence was strong in the poetry, Scriptures, and journal entries she had chosen to be read at the service.  She is a truly remarkable woman, and I feel blessed and honored to have made her brief acquaintance.

Let's see -- what else?  Oh yes, my van broke down at the funeral home.  My mother has been hired on at the VA hospital in Wichita in an as-needed (for now) position, so she's been going through orientation for a week-and-a-half with two-and-a-half weeks to go.  That means she and I are getting up between 5:30 and 6:30 so she can get to Wichita in time (did I mention I moved in with the parentals for the Summer?).  On MWF she is only in orientation until noon so she can get to work by 2 p.m., but on TTh she's there until 4:00, so I usually go with her and hang with my brother and Naomi (when she's home) in order to have a way to go to the bathroom by asking former PCAs or my pals for help.  The sleep schedule gets to be painful by about Wednesday (to bed between 11:00 and 11:30, up at 5:30 or so), but you gotta do what you gotta do.

Hope this little post makes SOME people happy!  :-)

I was reminded by a friend that I hadn't posted in a while, so I decided to log on and play with my blog a bit. I'll post an update on the happenings of the last couple of months very soon. Hope you enjoy the template I picked!

I was engaging in study-avoidance behavior (but still managing to not listen to my Muse and write on my story, gotta give me a little credit), when I found Kim had linked to another quiz. Pretty fun. Check it out:

Take my Quiz on QuizYourFriends.com!

I was checking up on my pal Kim and found this great quiz. Give it try! My results below.


Classic rock! Without you the other genres
wouldn't exist! You are the raw and original
sound of rock! Other genres may try to imitate
your rawness, but they can never be like you!


What genre of rock are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

It's been a while since I've blogged, as I'm sure many of you already know. It's been a hectic few months, and I'm presently on the edge, waiting to hear back from those graduate schools. I have two rejections (Univ. Colorado Boulder and Louisiana State), but the big edge I'm waiting on is from the University of New Orleans. The graduate coordinator of UNO called me last Thursday to inform me she has a position and a fellowship to offer me, I just need to find an advisor. The man with whom I originally communicated is not a member of the bio dept., and the man he suggested to be my advisor may be retiring in a year or so. She gave me the names of a couple of profs to solicit, so I popped off emails and CVs to both of them just a little while ago. Wish me luck.

I'm off to study for a history exam.

I was just reading my Friday edition of the SF Gate newsletter and reflecting on the comments Mark Morford makes at least once a week about our country's confusion as to why the population is so obese and dealing with so many health issues. Can you say, "Duh?" It amazes me just how many people don't realize the crap that gets pumped into our beef and our chickens that winds up accumulating in our bodies to horrendous levels because we're so indoctrinated by those "Beef -- it's what's for dinner" commercials. If you want a real eye-opener about that steak you're getting ready to put on the grill, just read Ruth Ozeki's My Year of Meats. It ain't fiction, kids -- that shit's for real.

Now let's get one thing straight before you decide to stop reading -- I am not a vegetarian. I love steak, I love hamburgers. Further, I am female and sometimes need an extra dose of iron once a month. "Is she a hypocrite?" you may ask. If I were, do you think I'd be writing this entry? The majority of red meat I consume comes from my parents' cattle. I know EXACTLY what has gone into these cattle, i.e., no antibiotics, no growth hormones, no ground up cow brains and spinal cords in the feed. It is organic, and let me tell you, it tastes so much better than what you get in the grocery store (unless you shop at an organic grocery store). Plus I have the peace of mind of knowing my body can process the meat easily. I was tickled a couple of weeks ago when I heard my dad is thinking about buying some chickens. Oh what a glorious day that will be!

Then there's the fast food. Any fast food. I've been cutting it out of my diet for the last month, and the energy I have in exchange is well worth it. Even my crazy class and work schedule isn't dragging me down. "But the convenience!" I hear some of you yelling. "Sometimes I'm just so tired when I get home from sitting at a computer and tippy-tapping away that I don't want to cook." Leftovers, baby. Cook a big batch of your favorite something on the weekend when you're rested and there will be plenty to savor later when you're worn out from work and the kids. Here's another bonus -- you actually save money when you're not spending four or five bucks a pop at Mickey D's or KFC a day. Not only that, you're saving money on trips to the doctor, or should I say LACK of trips to the doctor?

Yes, for cryin' out loud, I'm a hippie. I've never been in denial about it; I've always embraced it. I'm not perfect, though. Those refined sugars are turning out to be a bear to eliminate. I'm not much in the candy department, never have been (except for the occasional bit of dark chocolate, but it's better for you than milk chocolate), but I hooked myself on pop in high school. As with any other bad habit, it's a slow journey. Prescription medication forced me to go completely caffeine-free, but that was no biggie since I was already mostly caffeine-free anyway. I started my weaning process by allowing myself one can (preferrably) or one 20 oz. bottle (usually) every other day. After a while, the cravings just seemed to go away, mostly. The other key was finding a substitute, kind of like some smokers take up chewing gum. I now have a variety of herbal teas in my cabinet that is seconded only by the grocery store itself.

I guess what all this rambling is leading to is that I realized that if I want to live a long life despite the MD and in hopes of getting into that PhD program in ecology (remember, I'm a hippie), I need to make some changes and stop putting so much crap in my mouth. The changes aren't even that difficult. It isn't that hard to find a source of organic produce, milk, and even meat (and you don't have to have parents who grow their own cows). Cost, you ask? Yes, it can be more expensive to go organic, but if this broke college hippie can do it (on a fairly regular basis -- I'm no saint, after all), anyone can. Stop bitching about how your ankles are breaking down as you drive your overweight fanny to Burger King, get your slovenly ass out of the complimentary wheelchair at Wal-Mart, put that Hungry Man dinner back in the frozen food section, and try those yummy veggies in the produce section. Buy your hamburger organic, or at the VERY LEAST buy the 96% lean stuff instead of the 85%. Tiny changes, kids. You'll be amazed how easy it is.

I just received AGAIN an email about the Eid stamp put out by the USPS, and I have to make a few comments -- if for no other reason than to keep my BP down a couple of notches.

First of all, let me point out that this is not the only holiday stamp of any faith put out by the USPS. In fact, I'd wager a heavy bet that Christmas stamps outnumber all other holiday stamps put together.

Second, while the occurrences we're asked to REMEMBER were perpetrated by Muslims, it is extremely unfair to equate every Muslim with those Muslims. Even Bush doesn't do it. It would be equivalent to saying that KKK members and Hitler represent all Christians. Here at the university, I've had the privilege of meeting and getting to know a few Muslims, and they were just as saddened and outraged by the events of 9/11 as any Christian. In fact, when a candlelight vigil was held on campus, more students of Middle Eastern descent attended than did American students. How shameful is that?

I applaud the USPS's attempt to be multicultural. This country is not just made up of white, Christian, able-bodied individuals of Northern-European-descent. This country is a beautiful conglomerate of nationalities and ways of worship. Everyone keeps yelling about peace on Earth and goodwill toward men, but they don't seem too interested in trying to actually live it. How are we ever going to achieve these goals if we spend all our time bashing each other and tearing each other apart? Would that we spent more time talking with each other and learning from each other. How mch happier might we be?

It really sucks to be reminded just how bass-ackwards some people's and some states' thinking can be. A group of people with disabilities is suing the state of Tennessee under the ADA in an attempt to get that state to make its courthouses accessible. One woman in the suit, a court reporter, has had to turn down 23 jobs because she was unable to get to the second floor of the buildings due to lack of elevators. In one job she had taken, a judge had to carry her into the bathroom and sit her on the toilet because she couldn't get her wheelchair through the door. A man in the suit whose legs were in casts due to a car accident was forced to pull himself up the stairs to his hearing while court employees and a judge laughed at him from the top of the stairs. His case wasn't heard that morning, so he had to make his way back down to the first floor for lunch. When he refused to struggle back up the stairs for the afternoon session, the judge had him arrested for failure to appear.

One would think this would be an open-and-shut case of blatant discrimination with no danger of being thrown out, but the state of Tennessee and other states facing similar suits are yelling "11th Amendment" in order to not have to make any accomodations. For those of you not up to date on your Constitutional amendments (admittedly, I'm a little rusty myself), the 11th Amendment reads, "The judicial power of the United States shall not be construed to extend to any suit in law or equity, commenced or prosecuted against one of the United States by citizens of another state, or by citizens or subjects of any foreign state" (thanks to Cornell's law school for providing the full text of the Constitution online). The states aren't being sued by citizens of other states -- they're being sued by their OWN friggin' citizens! Unfortunately, there seems to be a real danger that federal appeals courts may allow this cock-and-bullshit to fly and declare that the states don't have to provide reasonable accomodations for employees or plaintiffs/defendants. I don't think I need to go on for lines and lines about that injustice, nor do I need to bring up comparison after comparison of other discrimination suits in a similar vein which were ruled in favor of the plaintiffs (Brown vs Topeka BOE, anyone?). The author of the editorial I read did that well enough, so I'll refer you to the NYTimes online, Sunday edition.

I do, however, feel the need to comment on the judge's and employees' behavior in the incident of the man in casts, which has undoubtedly been repeated by them and other states countless times. I'm outraged that people can take such obvious pleasure in another human's pain and humiliation. They basically took this man's dignity and stomped the dog shit out of it right there in a building meant to uphold the law -- the same law which includes preserving the dignity of people. The courts in Florida upheld the right of a woman to die with dignity by ordering the removal of her feeding tube, but the same federal courts in other states may say, "To hell with your dignity. You're just a second-class person anyway because you're a cripple." It's so ironic to read this editorial when we're about a week away from celebrating the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It's unreal to celebrate the emancipation of a group of people when there is still so much blatant discrimination in our country of all groups that are not American-born, white, Protestant, middle-class (or should I say upper-class nowadays?), able-bodied people. We are not the land of freedom and equality that our leaders love to claim we are; rather, we are a country full of people suspicious of and hateful toward anything and anyone different than us. When I think of that, a deep sadness begins to mingle with the outrage.