Their's is a story of courage, transformation, and triumph

19. The Tin Ticket: The Heroic Journey of Australia's Convict Women by Deborah J. Swiss

Very good, though the way it's written was not what I expected. Lots of interesting information telling the story of a little known part of history.

Words to the wise

I received an email yesterday from Nova Publishing asking me if I would like to contribute a chapter to a book they're putting together called Environmental Degradation: Causes, Issues and Management.

*squees*

A book chapter offer? And I haven't defended yet?

*squees more*

I sent an email to my advisor to ask his thoughts. I just hope it doesn't take him a month to write me back because the abstract deadline is January 10.

*squee to the 10th power*

A peek from under the pile

I've been absent lately -- not just from posting but also from reading on my flist. I want to graduate in the spring, so I need to defend my dissertation no later than April 9, which in turn means I must turn in a draft to my advisor no later than February 9.

Actually, as of last night, those deadlines will get moved up as I purchased tickets for the Celtic Woman concert being given on April 12.

My motivation has been nil. Once I start writing, I move right along. Fortunately, I also have a grant application that wasn't funded that helps me write my introductions, but the materials and methods still need work. I have analyzed data for my 2008 experiments, so I should be done with that damn chapter, but I'm not. I'm so annoyed with myself.

Dad has an appointment in Wichita this afternoon, and Mom is driving him. Ordinarily I would ride along, but I am opting to stay home and take full advantage of approximately three hours of alone time to write.

C'mon D -- let's get this thing banged out.

My name is Kinsey Millhone

18. "A" is for Alibi by Sue Grafton

I read this several years ago, but I've been away from the series for a while. Nice, fast read.

Bookkeeping

17. Hell to Pay by William Brian Johnson

I'm currently writing on the dissertation and a post-doc application, so no lengthy reviews for a while. I will still keep you updated with what I'm reading when I'm resting my fingers.

That said, I will now say -- Not bad, B. Not bad at all.

It happened every year, was almost a ritual

16. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson

I don't have the energy to write an extensive review. I didn't find the novel as "suspenseful" and "thrilling" as all the hype around this series would have you believe, but it was certainly well-crafted and enjoyable. Anyone non-Swedish has to ignore all the references to street, neighborhood, and even city locations unless you just REALLY feel the need to look them up. Believe me, you can enjoy the story without them.

Four stars out of five. I'm definitely picking up #2 in the series.

A Day of Remembrance

Our modern holiday of Halloween has its roots in the pagan tradition of Samhain (pronounced SOW-en). Samhain is the last of three harvest festivals, celebrating the end of harvest while preparing for the long, dark nights of winter to come. It is believed that at this time of year, the veil between our world and the world beyond is at its thinnest. Rituals to honor and/or speak to those who have gone before us are common. I, like everyone else, have lost family. Due to my disease, I've gotten to encounter Death a bit more often as He has taken most of the friends I met at MDA Camp. To mention all of them would take hours, and frankly I don't have the fortitude to undertake a task of that nature. However, I must mention two, for these deaths are with me daily, always at the edge of my waking thoughts, sometimes even entering into my dreams.





My sister's death caught me completely unaware. She had been in the hospital over Christmas with pneumonia. I spoke with her the day she was released, and I was utterly amazed that she had been sent home. The congestion I could hear in her lungs made ME want to cough, and she clearly didn't have enough strength to cough all that crap out. A month later, her best friend called my brother to say Stacy was gone. Her death was so sudden that Dad requested an autopsy.





The report stated that nothing unusual could be found, merely the expected physical changes consistent with her disability and a slightly enlarged heart. Folks in the family started freaking out -- enlarged hearts run in the family, what about Dawn's and Paul's hearts? We were checked; we were fine.

Years later, I found a report in Stacy's university paper that stated she had called campus police in the wee hours of the morning (around 2:00am) complaining of an asthma attack. She was taken by ambulance to the hospital, she was treated and released, and she was taken home by the ambulance crew around 6:00am. According to Stacy's attendant, when she arrived a couple of hours later to get her up, Stacy stated that she was exhausted. Could she please sleep a little longer? The attendant said no problem. When she returned a couple of hours later, Stacy was breathing but unresponsive. She died at the hospital a short time later.

My sister and I were the best of friends as kids, but as adults it became clear that we were two very different people. Actually, I'm not even sure how true that last statement is. I think we were still a lot alike, but we just took different paths when we moved out on our own. I was studious, trying to make the most out of the scholarships I'd earned and trying to keep my college debt to a minimum. The extent of my "partying" was a group of dorm friends sitting around getting hilariously plastered. I was the obligatory babysitter since I didn't drink. I rarely skipped classes. Stacy, on the other hand, was not too concerned about school. She didn't party, but she was a huge flirt. When the Internet got big, she'd spend all day and half the night in chat rooms. Once, she announced to the family she was engaged to a half Native American man from New Mexico -- she neglected to mention she had never actually MET the dude in person. In her first year of WSU she had more "canceled" classes than I'd had in five years of undergrad and one year of grad school. We fought like crazy. I called her irresponsible. She called me a prude. When she moved to Illinois, we weren't on speaking terms. I'm fairly certain the only reason she came over and said goodbye was because Paul and I were living together; she definitely had more to say to him than me.

Looking back, I know she was going through the same "FREEDOM!" phase that many young adults do. I was thinking then that if she wanted a break from school to stretch her social wings, then she should just stop racking up debt for classes she never attended. I was stuck in the mentality that I was the big sister and I knew better. What a joke.

After Stacy died, our parents and our aunt and uncle went up to IL to clear out her campus apartment. Mom and Aunt Chrys told me later that though our relationship was only in the beginning stages of rebuilding, we were still more alike than we were different. Similar decorating styles, similar leisure reading choices -- we even had the same damn perfume in our bedrooms.

I now regret those last few years of wasted time, that both of us were so stupid and just had to be RIGHT. Sometimes it still hurts, but Stacy has let me know that for her, it's all water under the bridge. She's forgiven me, so it's time I forgive myself.





If my sister's death caught me off-guard and sent me into a tailspin, then my brother's death hit me like a Mack truck. It didn't help that I had been sick with a stomach bug for a week and had just admitted myself to the hospital for dehydration. Most people who know me well know that I'm a pretty cool head in a crisis. It took me ten hours to allow myself to cry when Stacy had gone. With Paul, I lost it. Bad. I even yelled at my father when he tried to calm me down. I was going to pieces, and at that moment I didn't care. The nurse came in with my pain meds, and I went to sleep. I didn't want to wake up. Ever.

Paul had spent 31 days in the hospital to get rid of pneumonia (sensing a theme?). During this time, the chronic pain he'd been suffering for twelve years had gotten so much worse. Dad told me he would be given Percocet, then two hours later Dilotid, then two hours later Percocet, then two hours later Dilotid, and so on, ad infinitum. I know big guys who couldn't handle that regime, but it barely touched the pain experienced by my 41-pound brother. A few days before he died, he told our mutual friend, "I'm so tired. I don't want to do this anymore."





Paul and I were the opposite of Stacy and me -- we drove each other crazy as kids, but as adults we were as close as a brother and sister could be. When he started university, everyone thought he was a biology major because he spent so much of his free time in the lab with me. My fellow grad students made him part of the fold. He knew more about my thesis project than my lab-mates. Together we took a Shakespeare class, an anthropology class, and a fiction writing workshop. I was the one he turned to when he needed help selecting poems to submit to contests. His two favorite nicknames for me were "tree-hugger" and "bunny-lover". He rolled his eyes at my tirades against styrofoam, but he'd use real plates -- at least when I was around. The only difference was political views. He was a staunch Republican, and I was . . . well . . . not.

It hurt me that I wasn't in Kansas when he passed -- one week after getting released from that 31 day stretch in the hospital. He endured more pain and illness than any one person should ever have to. Every night I prayed for his pain to be taken away. The first time I thought of that after he died, I screamed at the Higher, "That wasn't what I meant!" I spent months in a strangely functional form of depression -- I went through the motions of research and interaction with others, but I had absolutely NO emotional investment in anything.

I think the biggest hurt is that he never told me goodbye or gave me any indication that he was OK the way Stacy did. I dream about him, but only rarely. I know my sister keeps an eye on me, but I feel as though my brother just went on without looking back -- which is so much his practical nature. Gah, I sound like such a selfish bitch.

So, this turned out to be longer than I intended, so if you made it this far, let me know and I'll send you some cookies as a reward.

For my sister and brother: I couldn't have asked for better siblings. I have to be honest -- I hate that you left me alone. You gave me strength, and you forced me to see my insecurities. Everything I accomplish in my life is due in large part to you (and our parents). I love you and miss you every single day.

I've never been so happy to own a Kindle . . .

. . . as I am today, because I just purchased my friend's book. A book I have had the privilege of seeing in various forms over the years. A book that has been a long time coming. Congrats, B!

Go here to buy your own. Don't have a Kindle? I've heard rumors of a paper copy coming soon.

The love of life, at any and every level of development, is the religious impulse

15. Wise Women: Over Two Thousand Years of Spiritual Writing by Women by Susan Cahill

This was an evocative collection of writings, the majority of which were written by women but also included pieces about women written by men (e.g., Ruth and Naomi in the Old Testament, the Greek play Antigone) and even court transcripts from trials of women who stepped out of their "traditional" roles (e.g., Joan of Arc). The writings are so diverse, each amazing in its own way. I could probably write a research paper, but I'll limit myself to a few of my favorites.


First, a surprise to me -- a song I can remember singing in elementary school. I had no idea of its origins.

'Tis the gift to be simple, tis a gift to be free,
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be.
When we find ourselves in the place that's right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
-- Shaker hymn


Passion, intellect, moral activity -- these three have never been satisfied in a woman.
-- Florence Nightingale in Cassandra

At the time this was written, this statement was so true. Very few women had the opportunity to persue a higher education, to realize their passions much less act upon them, to chase their dreams. Sadly, there are women even today who still perceive limits on themselves.


The prophetic and practical wisdom of women -- that the gift of life that comes with the responsibility to love and protect it wherever we find it, regardless of our particular identifications within borders of race, religion, gender and class -- has never waned (p. 160).

I know many might read Cahill's statement and think of the raising of children, but I feel that myself and several of my female friends live this in a broader sense in that we love and protect our extended families, our communities, our ecosystems and fellow living beings. This statement very much meshes with an observation made by a fellow graduate student -- that our conservation biology biology program is made up primarily of women because women are more nurturing.

The writings of Annie Besant and Florida Scott-Maxwell are particularly poignant for me, the latter especially because she writes about approaching the end of life. Her musings are thought-provoking for anyone with a disease or disorder that impacts her/his lifespan, but I read her words on the day that some of my brother's writing was returned to me.

Ten years ago . . .

I got up and went to my "second" job at the university Writing Center, and my brother and Brian (also tutors) had the TV on. That is a big no-no, so I figured something major was happening. My brother told me about the two planes, but at that point only the first tower had collapsed. I started doing some data entry, and suddenly my stomach rolled and I felt like I was going to vomit. At that exact same moment, I heard the news anchor say the second tower had just gone down. I was supposed to give an exam to my biology class that evening, but needless to say, I not only postponed the exam but also canceled class. When I heard about the attempt on the Pentagon, I was scared for my friend who works directly across the river as a physicist at the Naval Research Labs. Thankfully, everyone there was OK. I spent the entire day in a stunned fog.

It's hard to believe that it's been ten years.

2-for-1 special

You get a two-fer this time because I completed #13 before going to the disability caucus and started #14 after returning and forgetting I hadn't blurbed about the previous one.



13. All the Windwracked Stars by Elizabeth Bear

. . . song swept down from all the windwracked stars above

I've been reading EB's LJ for a while now but had never read any of her books. Silly Dawn -- no cookie. I love the way she uses language -- e.g., I haven't seen some of those synonyms for "red" in a looooooong time. I'm not familiar with the Norse pantheon, so I'm not sure how much she played with the primaries or if she stuck true, but it really doesn't matter because I enjoyed the story so much. Very recommended.



14. The Birthing House by Christopher Ransom

Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave

Meh. A great story idea with so much potential, but it tripped and face-planted at the starting line. I'm a crappy writer, and I feel I could've done better. The top of the dust jacket said "international bestseller", and I'm still trying to figure out how. The characters are one-dimensional, the conflict between Conrad and his wife was forced -- and what the HELL was with that ending? Don't waste your time.

Gimps unite!

Mom and I are heading out of town tomorrow to attend a disability caucus. We'll get home Friday afternoon or evening. I've never been to one of these, so it'll be interesting. Tomorrow's highlight is a performance by Flame, a rock group made up completely of people with disabilities.

Everyone be nice to each other and share your toys while I'm gone. *hugs*

*trumpets sound*

My FA review is finally in print, and my official PDF is saved! Please send me a SASE for your autographed copy. *grin*

Who's your mama?

Over the weekend, I got behind on the number of fish I wanted to measure. Last week, I set myself a goal of measuring 22 individuals per day. At the start of my day, I was 38 individuals behind. I was just hoping to make up the 38 because I thought there was NO WAY I'd make up the back work plus do today's before my hand and wrist pooped out on me. Well, I'm a rock star, because I measured 65 fish today, which puts me AHEAD by 5. At eight measurements per fish, that's a total of 520 measurements. My wrist and hand are hurting, but I'm very proud of myself.

There is no good or evil, save in the way you see the world

12. Daughter of the Forest (Sevenwaters #1) by Juliet Marillier

This book was a reimagining and expansion of a traditional Celtic myth called "The Swans." A friend of mine had told me that this book made her cry, and I'll admit that I had my doubts.

Yeah, I came close to crying.

The story is set in Ireland and Britain at a time when the Irish still practiced the Old Ways but the Britons had converted to Christianity. The evil step-mother enthralls her new husband and drives a wedge between him and his seven children (six boys, one girl). The children have great ties to the magic of the forest in which they live (one son is clearly destined to be a druid), and they gather together early one morning to perform a ritual and ask the Lady of the Forest to help them break the spell Lady Oonagh (what an evil sounding name) has over their father. But Oonagh interrupts the ritual and turns the boys into swans. Sorcha escapes into the forest thanks to the split second warning and shove of one of her brothers. Sorcha is only twelve, but the Lady of the Forest tells her she can save her brothers. She must make six shirts using the stems of the very spiny starwort plant, and when all six are finished, she must slip the shirts over the necks of each swan to break the spell. There's just one teensy weensy catch -- she can speak not a word until the spell is broken, nor can she tell her story to anyone via any means (writing, sign language, pictures).

This is very much a story of "What can happen to this poor girl next?" The plot is ever-changing but always interesting. The characters are fully fledged (no pun intended) -- you love the ones you're supposed to like and despise the ones you're not supposed to like. I made Mom laugh when I told her I wanted to poke one character in the eye with a very sharp stick. My only complaint is that I did not get to witness the punishment of that particular character. I found myself not wanting to work on my research so I could keep reading. Haven't had book do that to me in a long time. I just hope the next one is as well crafted.

A poem for today

Fish heads, fish heads
On my screen
Fish heads fish heads
Measuring


I know -- don't quit my day job

Hermaphrodite butterfly

This butterfly is literally half female and half male. Nature can be so groovy.

I forgot to pull a quote

11. Bone Crossed by Patricia Briggs

A friend recommended Patricia Briggs to me a few years ago, and I pretty rapidly went through the first three books of her Mercy Thompson series. Like the Hamilton I finished a few days ago, it falls into the urban fantasy genre. The third book put poor Mercy through hell, and she's trying to cope with that in this fourth book in addition to being on a vamp's hit list. These books aren't as memorable as the great literary classics, but they're good for a mind candy read. I didn't like this one as much as I remember liking its predecessors, but to keep me occupied and to keep my weary hand off my mouse, it was acceptable.

Still haven't decided if I'm calling the JADRC.

Get up, get up, or you'll die!

10. Hit List by Laurell K. Hamilton

This is the latest installment in the "Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter" series. This series was my first foray into the now burgeoning "urban fantasy" genre. I liked this book because LKH got back to a plot driven story. Readers who are fans of her sizzling and . . . creative . . . sex scenes will be disappointed because this volume had only one, and it was fairly tame. I really loved reading this one (I read about 75% of it in one day), but the conflict resolution at the end was a little too . . . quick? I've kind of gotten used to LKH writing a fairly lengthy (upwards of 100 pages) climax so we get lots of details and lots of back-and-forth in the fight. We get to see Anita's vulnerabilities and how she deals with them. This ending was so Mary Sue. There was no real struggle -- and when one is dealing with the Mother of All Darkness, the mother of all the vampires, one expects a great deal of struggle.

Laurell, I respect you a great deal. I think I've read 98% of your published works. But that climax and resolution? Not up to your par. *shakes head sadly*

Book 4 of the JADRC. I'm thinking about calling this one on account of the nine-year-old's decided lack of motivation. As of the holiday, she STILL hasn't finished her first book. More about that in a different post.

It carries the conviction of a true note in a beautiful melody . . .

9. Women in Celtic Myth by Moyra Caldecott

This interesting little book shares tales of strong women from the Celtic tradition. Most are moral commentaries on those most human tendencies from greed to love. The last two read like fairy tales, complete with happily-ever-after, but still speak of the ancients if you look carefully. Each tale is followed by a "Commentary" that helps to clairfy the symbolism so important to the Celts. This was a fast and fun read.

Book three of JADRC

Who's a book whore?

I'm a book whore.

And I'm OK with that.

Funny overheard statements

My dad to the puppies: "Don't kill the pillow. The pillow is a protected species."

A mark of the despised barbarian

8. The Eye of the Beholder: Deformity and Disability in the Graeco-Roman World by Robert Garland

On one of my Amazon skims, I was browsing through a lot of disability literature. Most of it is current (i.e., within the last 20-30 years), with quite a bit even going back to the turn of the century. I was clicking "Add to Wishlist" pretty regularly.

(For those of you who don't know, I use my Amazon wishlist not as a way to get folks to buy things for me but rather as a reminder to myself of what I'd like to read one day. Then I look for one or two at a time at the library or order it through inter-library loan.)

So, I was noticing a pattern of disability literature being not more than a century-plus-change old, when this book appeared. Hmmmm, I know about Hephastus (Vulcan to the Romans), the lame-footed god who was the blacksmith of the gods and cuckholded by his wife Aphrodite, but that was pretty much it. Garland went through as much of the sketchy literature and art available to try to piece together how the deformed and disabled fared in Greek and Roman society. Obviously, there isn't much available, and of course, most of it is bad. Naturally there is the tale of Odysseus's dealings with Polyphemus, the one-eyed giant. Aristotle philosophizes on the deviation from the "ideal form". Pliny goes so far as to describe the "monstrosities" of humanity and animals as almost equals. Dwarves and deformed slaves were bought specifically for the entertainment of the elite, and whomever had the oddest, strangest being was envied by his peers.

Depressing as the actual history was, I still found it interesting and informative. The set of 60-something panels in the center of the book was fascinating. I mean, the way the non-disabled portrayed the disabled just fricking slays me! Because of their low, looooow social status, naturally the gimps weren't portrayed in high art with the expensive media, i.e., they weren't carved marble or painted. Sculptures were created of bronze or more commonly terracotta. Drawings/paintings appeared on the cheapest of vases or water urns. The mentally ill/disabled were not exempt, and their portrayal is probably the saddest of all -- grotesque and twisted faces shaped to supposedly reflect the internal madness.

One practice in a particular village was strangely resonant of today -- that of punishing or even executing "scapegoats" (generally the deformed or disabled) as a means of appeasing angry gods. Garland remarks, "The incident tells us much about the universal tendency to heap blame upon the weak and defenceless in periods of acute tension as a way of re-directing frustration and fear." This puts me in mind of the current state and federal budget issues of cutting money to the programs which help the weak and defenseless (poor, disabled both mental and physical, at-risk) in order to redirect constituents' frustrations and fears from looking more closely at the spending habits of those in power. Those in power call these programs "a drain on resources" which just reinforces the stigma.

Wow. I just realized how conspiracy theory that sounded. I've maybe been watching Hodgins too much on "Bones".

Book #2 for me in the JADRC. I think the kid is still on her first. Oy. I see I'm going to have to sweeten the pot for her.

Grace's 1st birthday party

Last Saturday was Bug's birthday party, so I thought I'd share a couple of pictures.

Here she is offering me a bite of her cake.





Mmmmmmm, cake!





"Are you SURE you don't want a bite of cake, Cousin Dawn?"

The secrets we all have and will never tell

7. The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards

I know I should sit down and write an extensive review, but my brain hurts and I can't think of anything that hasn't already been said by others. The set-up is this: Dr. David Henry is forced to deliver his own twins during a freak Kentucky snowstorm in 1964. His son, born first, is perfectly healthy and normal. *insert gimp growl* His daughter, however, has Down Syndrome. Having lived through the early death of his sister at a young age, David decides to "spare" his wife the future loss of their daughter -- he hands her off to the nurse and asks her to take the baby to a home for the "feeble-minded". Instead of telling his wife what he did, he tells her the girl died. What he doesn't count on is that Norah has as much difficulty dealing with their daughter "dying" as an infant as he imagined she would raising a "retarded" daughter. Like the function of the camera Norah gives David the following Valentine's Day, the author gives us snapshots of the lives of the Henrys and of Caroline, the nurse who chose to raise the baby on her own in another city rather than leave her in an "awful" institution. Just as the book is a set of photographs for us, so too do photographs dominate the lifes of the characters.

In sum, I liked it. The overall theme is obvious but not in-your-face obvious. The book was fairly well-crafted, in my opinion. If you can get your hands on an inexpensive used copy (like I did) or if you can get it at your local library, go ahead and give it a read. Or you can borrow mine if you're nearby.

By the way, this is my first book in the Jamie/Aunt Dawn Reading Contest (JADRC). To my knowledge, the mini-redhead has not completed her first book. Sheesh! I stretched it out over two weeks to give her a chance to get ahead of me.

Happy birthday, Bug!

Today is Grace's birthday -- she's a whopping one year old. My first memory a year ago today upon waking from sedation (the doc kept me sedated for 24 hours after my surgery) was my nurse saying, "Your mom just called and asked me to tell you that your cousin had her baby today." I didn't get to see her until she was about two months old (on MY birthday). I love my little Bug!

Want!

After listening to his rendition of one of my favorite songs, "You Raise Me Up", on Celtic Thunder's PBS special last night, I have decided that I want Paul Byrom for my birthday.

It's two and a half months away -- that should be plenty of time for you to make arrangements.

This June 7 is much better than the last one

A year ago today was the infamous Wreck. Aside from extra pain spots and a Foley catheter, I'm pretty much back to normal. Took me a while to get here, but here I am.

Onward and upward!

Holy crap! I can see!

I finally got to go to my ophthalmologist today. My eyes HAVE changed (a little more near-sighted in the right, a little more far-sighted in the left), but not as much as I thought they had. Seems most of my vision problems stemmed from my glasses being so stinking crooked from flying off my face in the Wreck -- I wasn't looking through the center of the left lens like I should. It took my poor doctor a while to straighten them out. I'm also needing bifocals, which didn't surprise me at all. So, new glasses in my future, and they are groovy (even being Medicaid frames)!

The really funny part was that Doc Y. had to take my exam back old school. My knee has been KILLING me the last couple of days (seriously, I was almost in tears getting in bed last night), so I couldn't handle a transfer into the exam chair. Doc Y. had to pull out the "fixed lens" set, a big wooden case with adjustable metal frames in which he then traded lenses of different magnifications. I kinda felt like I would fit in to the steampunk crowd wearing those specs! I should've had Mom take a picture with her phone.

Personally I believe in nature, and I get my spirituality . . . from being in nature

6. Science vs. Religion: What Scientists Really Think by Elaine Howard Ecklund

Over the last couple of years, I've become more and more interested in the interface between science and religion. Part of the genesis of this interest came from a "call for writers" for a friend's anthology of animism practices (to which I contributed an essay). But the larger reason for my interest has come from religion itself. Going to church with my parents has made it painfully obvious to me that science is being misrepresented to and by some religious folks. I do not now nor have I ever made blanket judgments about a group based on one person or smaller in-group, but the dissemination of misinformation needs to be addressed by scientists. Clearly, others feel the same way, as books like these from Howard Ecklund (hereafter known as "HE") are showing up more and more frequently in bookstores and libraries -- in fact, I found this book on the featured titles stand at my local, relatively small, library.

Overall, I was impressed by and learned a lot from this book. First, though, I'd like to address three problems I had with the author's approach.

Problem #1 -- HE only interviewed and collected data from scientists in "elite" universities like Harvard, Yale, and UC Berkeley. Therefore, her conclusions are only valid for that small subset of scientists, i.e., it is not representative of all scientists in the US. It would be like me analyzing the reaction to a pesticide of ten fish taken from a population of 10,000 and saying my results are representative of all 10,000 fish. It just doesn't fly. Her proportions of atheists to agnostics to religious to spiritual groups might change significantly if a broader approach is taken.

I do, however, understand her point later in the book about how elite scientists' opinions hold more weight because they have established themselves in terms of research and getting grants. However, I think any scientist can make a mark in opening dialogue between science and religion, both in the classroom and in the community. An elite scientist might get more newsprint or air time, but who will that community college student in Podunkville have more access to when s/he has questions or wants to discuss it further? ALL scientists need to be more open to addressing the public. In my general biology classes that I taught in the past, for example, religious beliefs always bring up questions about evolution. At that time, not possessing what HE refers to as the proper language, I engaged in the "suppression model" of dealing with the questions. I'm not going to do that in the future: (1) I feel I have a better grasp of some aspects of religion and can speaking more intelligently, and (2) ignoring the questions only fuels the misconceptions.

Problem #2 -- HE sometimes draws conclusions from a person's statements rather than asking her/him to clarify. For example, one scientist describes his spirituality as being like putting on his pants every day. HE interprets this to mean that spirituality is useless to this scientist, and there really is no basis for that conclusion. Another interpretation could be that this scientist's spirituality is an integral part of his every day routine, much like putting on his pants. We really don't know what he actually meant because HE did not ask. I've seen a few social scientists fall into the trap of thinking they know what the interviewee means, when what they are really doing is making interpretations through their own social lens.

Problem #3 -- HE mentions a statement by another scientist, and later says that she agrees, that scientists who are "spiritual" rather than "religious" lose their focus on acting within and for the benefit of a community and focus solely on the self. Considering problem #1, I would again argue that this is an unfounded blanket statement. Speaking from my own -- limited -- experience, many scientists I know are very socially conscious. They buy organic foods from farmer's markets. They run in charity events to raise money for breast cancer or HIV/AIDS. They take time out of their schedules to judge science fairs or talk to middle and high school students about what scientists really do. Some of my fellow grad students do the latter in schools with "at risk" students. Again, my experience is only a small subset of the scientific community, but I think my example shows how different conclusions can be drawn when the sample size is small.

What this book did extremely well was make me really start thinking about what kind of professor, researcher, and mentor I need to be. Some of the scientists interviewed in the book, what HE calls "boundary pioneers", stressed unequivocally that we need to be more able to engage in a dialogue with our students and colleagues, both within and outside our respective departments. As people who express their religious/spiritual beliefs become more vocal (not just the loud-mouths but everyone), we need to be able to explain what we do and how it applies within a broader context, and very often, religion and spirituality is within that broader context. Rather than sitting quietly in a church service and seething at a misrepresentation of, say, global climate change, I need to start a conversation with that person to explain it a bit more so that s/he can understand why polar bears would NOT in fact like their homes to be warmer. Scientists need to stop thinking in an "us versus them" mentality. We need to not respond to an attack with another attack.

Incidentally, this book does not count for the contest with my niece because I started the book a couple of weeks ago.

And away we go

Today officially begins the competition between my nine-year-old "niece" and myself to see who can be the first to read ten books by the end of the summer.

Sshh! Don't tell her I artfully manipulated her. ::grin::

She loves to read but is easily distracted by her neighbor friends, so this was my way of keeping her on track for her summer reading program.

Iz be sneaky like that.

If you like it then you shoulda put a twang on it

Just when I thought there was nothing left to surprise me musically, I saw a Beyonce song performed by a bluegrass band. Yea, that one. ::points to post title::

At least they didn't bust a Beyonce move.

*sigh*

Motivation, Motivation! Wherefore art thou, Motivation?

AAARRRGGG!!!

The newest issue of Reviews in Fish Biology and Fisheries is out in print, and my article (which went online last October) is STILL NOT IN. What -- the -- hell -- is -- taking -- so -- long?

I didn't think I could sleep until he was dead

6. 9th Judgment by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro

The Women's Murder Club has two new cases. In the first, a high-end cat burglar seemingly breaks pattern and kills a woman. In the second, a man is on a spree, killing mothers and their small children in very public places while leaving cryptic messages for police written with his victims' lipstick.

James Patterson is not one to write grand exposes on the human mind and the many ways it can break. His "plot twists" can be interesting if somewhat predictable, but every once in a while they can take you by surprise. In other words, Mr. Patterson's novels are not deep reads. They're mind candy, a quick bite to give you a little boost. When I spend literally hours reading peer-reviewed journal articles, editing textbooks, and staring at fish heads and fins, sometimes I don't want something else to make me think. Sometimes I do, but sometimes I don't. I want something I can relax into that will entertain me with quippy one-liners and that presents a case and solves it quickly. It's why I watch "Castle", and it's why I read Mr. Patterson's Women's Murder Club series. A quick bit of entertainment to rest my brain.

Oh yeah, that threw me for a loop

The music was the intro to The Beatles' "I Wanna Hold Your Hand", but when the words started, they were all wrong.

The Beatles -- singing in German.

Groovy.

Wherefore art thou?

Oh, motivation, where have you gone?

There are two chapters for Dr. S that have been lounging for so long that he actually emailed to make sure we got them. There are many data to collect and analyze. There is interesting and informative science to be written.

What is this lethargy? We haven't even read for fun or played a game, so it must be serious. We will not meet our goal of being called "Doctor" by Christmas if this persists.

Is my determination stronger than your antipathy? Let us find out.

Tweet tweet tweet

So far, the barn swallows, the meadowlarks, and the red-winged blackbirds have returned. Now I'm anxious to see the orioles.

Ups and downs, downs and ups

Bad -- Going to see Grandma in the hospital AGAIN (third time in a month) because her kidneys were shutting down. Hypotheses of cause: dye from the catheterization, post-bypass antibiotics, and/or not drinking much.

Good the First -- Her kidney function is getting better with IV fluids and whatever else the docs are doing. Her creatinine is four points too high, but apparently that's better than yesterday when she was admitted.

Good the Second -- While visiting Grandma, I learned my favorite "Mom's side" cousin and I were in the same county at the same time for the first time in three and a half years. A couple of phone calls between us, and we met up at his mom and dad's place. Nice visit while having the neighbor's dog, one of my cousin's dogs, and my uncle's dog all (at separate times) try to go home with me by jumping in my van. Annie (my uncle's) was so persistent that when thwarted from jumping up on the lift with me went around and jumped into the driver's seat when Mom opened her door. After being pulled out, she went back around to try to jump on the lift again. And I had to throw my lap blanket in the laundry when we got home because Brutus (my cousin's English mastiff) drooled all over me. I was feelin' the doggie love!

. . . she was cheated of the only thing she really wanted: the chance to complete her work

5. Rosalind Franklin: The Dark Lady of DNA by Brenda Maddox

This was an engrossing (for me, anyway) biography of a brilliant scientist whose real worth is recognized only by a select few. Many know Franklin as the difficult "Rosy", a demeaning caricature drawn by James Watson in The Double Helix, but few know of the world-renowned and respected author of approximately 37 papers (many in the coveted journal Nature) that furthered the knowledge of coal (her early career) and of virus structure (her later career). Maddox's biography seems well researched, drawing information from Franklin's close associates as well as Franklin's own letters to family and friends. While to many this book could be read as an attempt to tell the "other side" of the DNA story, for me it was also the story of a woman scientist struggling to be recognized as equal to her male counterparts and rewarded as such in terms of title and wage. By learning so much about her passions, I was saddened even more by Franklin's too-early death at 37 of ovarian cancer.

Stream of consciousness digression: 37 papers, 37 years of life. Hmmmm.

If you have any interest in science or women's struggles therein (or women's work struggles period), you should read this book.

Doing well

Grandma had her surgery on Friday, 25 March. They wound up doing three bypasses instead of two because they found a third blockage once they were doing the procedure -- a blockage that was so bad that the dye couldn't even get into the vessel during the catheterization. The surgery lasted about four hours.

Surprisingly, Grandma only spent two days in ICU, and she was released this last Monday (4 April). Her doctor would've released her two or three days earlier, but her gout flared so badly that she couldn't walk -- and naturally she couldn't go home if she couldn't walk. So her doc shot her toe full of prednisone and gave it a couple of days to take effect before springing her. Mom and I saw her on Tuesday. She's covered in bruises from all the IVs, and of course she tires easily, but she looks great and she's in good spirits.

Thank you, Higher.

Money money money

Got a deposit receipt in the mail today confirming the first installment of my proofreading fee/reward made it into my savings account.

*happy gimp dance*

From India to the Mediterranean . . . she reigned supreme

4. When God Was a Woman by Merlin Stone

Considered a classic in the study of ancient Goddess worship, I thought it was time I gave this a read. It was a bit dry and difficult to concentrate on. It is definitely not something to read when your brain is tired from sorting through research articles. While it does read a bit like your high school history textbook, and it can be difficult to keep straight all the place and group names, I did learn a lot with the help of the various maps and Stone's clear writing.

Let's get it on

My science-geeky friends find the BEST peer-reviewed stuff to read. For instance:


A. Peretti et al. 2007. Copulatory dialogue: female spiders sing during copulation to influence male genitalic movements. Animal Behaviour 72, 413–421.


I am so finding this!

Suckage

I just learned a few moments ago that my grandmother, Betty, is going to have to have heart bypass surgery. She had a heart catheterization done this morning, and the doctors discovered she has 100% blockage on one side of her heart and 97% blockage on the other. The surgery hasn't been scheduled yet, but they said it would be either tomorrow or early next week. She's in her mid-80s, so naturally there are risks.

Gah!

Priorities, people

Dear ABC News --

When you are already running a morning news broadcast about world events of great concern (Ghadafi's insanity, the growing radiation worries in Japan) and break in with a "special report", I feel it should be about something a little more worthy than the death of a celebrity. I do not mean to denigrate the loss of Elizabeth Taylor -- who was a fine actress -- but you damned near caused MY heart to fail with your break-in special news bulletin. Her death wasn't even a surprise as she's been sick for years. Please, please don't scare me like that again, OK?

Yours -- D

Day of awesome

Thunder, rain, hot cocoa, a relatively painless hip, and (so far) totally painless legs. Can the day get much better?

First lines meme

As seen on a friend's LJ. I'll let her explain:

For those of you new to the meme, the idea is that you post a rundown of the first lines of all your in-progress work. Through a mystical process not unlike that by which the irritation of a grain of sand encourages an oyster to produce nacre, thus creating a pearl, this causes the universe to encourage growth and formation of a completed story.

So, in no particular order:

"Cajun Psycho" -- original fic, not the actual title
He walked along the highway, breathing deeply of the swamp.

"Rhinoceros Buhler" -- original fic, may or may not be the title
My name is Rhinoceros Buhler, and I'm a private detective. No, Rhinoceros isn't the name on my birth certificate, but if you saw the name that was on my birth certificate, you'd understand why I prefer to be called Rhinoceros.

Crusade fan-fic
Captain Matthew Gideon walked briskly to the shuttle bay, fussing with his uniform jacket as he went.

Highlander fan-fic
Morgyn watched as Ted walked out the front door, locking it behind him and leaving her in near darkness.

"Those Who Protect the Protectors" -- The Sentinel fan-fic
"Come on you two! Hurry up!"

No title -- The Sentinel fan-fic
I rushed to the door of the large lecture hall, smiling my thanks to the man who held it open for me.

"Harry Potter and the Leap of Faith" -- AU year 6 HP fan-fic
In Harry Potter's second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the girls had had Professor Lockhart, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, to make their hearts go pitter-pat. In Harry's sixth year, the boys had Professor McGonagall.


There are a couple of others, but they're currently ugly little closet-babies that continuously morph or don't even have first lines yet because my brain refuses to write anything in order.

Oh, the horror!

There are three dead dogs and one dead cat scattered about the living room floor. Only Reba seems immune to whatever diabolical force has exacted this horror.

Coal at least had a long, full life -- but the puppies and the cat, all less than a year old, had only just begun their journey. *theatrical wailing*

Whoops. Looks like Spanky was revived by the need to guard Dad while he's in the shower.

Suckage

I may have a fracture at the very very top of my left femur which may be the cause of all this relentless pain I've had for about two weeks. Have to go get a CT to check, because the x-ray wasn't very clear.

Suckage scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the worst -- about a 13. Damn, damn, damn!

Whether there's a fracture or not, it hurts like hell and no one knows quite what to do about it. I seriously don't know how my brother dealt with nerve pain for 10+ years. I'm such a baby that I just spent ten minutes crying, but I think most of it is frustration. If it's not fractured, I'm going to have to figure out how I can function with the pain without totally doping myself up (though right now, I wouldn't mind a shot of Demerol and 12 hours of sleep). I have things to do. The German prof is counting on me to get his book proofread for English grammar by April (I currently have chapters 4 and 5 out of 12 or 13). I am counting on me to get some stuff done on the dissertation. I don't have any kind of over-the-bed tablr in order to work in bed.

Gah!

Mermaid or whale?

Swiped from a friend, who got it from her friend



Recently, in a large city in France, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan woman appeared in the window of a gym. It said, "This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?"

A middle-aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym.

To Whom It May Concern,

Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans.) They have an active sex life, get pregnant and have adorable baby whales. They have a wonderful time with dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp. They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia , the Bering Sea and the coral reefs of Polynesia . Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CDs. They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans. They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.

Mermaids don't exist. If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to identity crisis. Fish or human?

They don't have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them, not to mention how could they have sex? Just look at them ... where is IT?

Therefore, they don't have kids either. Not to mention, who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store?

The choice is perfectly clear to me: I want to be a whale.

P.S. We are in an age when media puts into our heads the idea that only skinny people are beautiful, but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream with my kids, a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver, and a piece of chocolate with my friends. With time, we gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room, it distributes out to the rest of our bodies. So we aren't heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated and happy. Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think, ¨Good grief, look how smart I am!¨

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Forty years ago today, they said they would -- and they still do. I love you!

Warning: Cuteness overload risk

You've been warned.

Stop! Hey, what's that sound? Everybody look what's going down.

As I sit here listening to the "60's Revolution" music station on my folks' DirecTV, I'm struck by how so many of the songs are relevant to what's occurring today. Like with the song whose lyrics are the title for this post, one line about people carrying signs. Signs to protest Wisconsin's governor. Signs to support union members. Signs demanding freedom and the overthrow of oppressive regimes.

Oh, how the wheel turns.

Science nerd

Nice quick trip to the library today. I got When God Was a Woman by Merlin Stone, The Double Helix by James D. Watson, and Rosalind Franklin: The Dark Lady of DNA by Brenda Maddox.

Seems strange that I am a biologist and have never read The Double Helix. I know, I should probably be brought up on charges. I was glad to discover, though, that the library also carried a book about Rosalind Franklin whose work was used but not credited by Watson and Crick.

When I finally graduate and start teaching, I think I'd like to develop a course on the history of science. Today's courses focus on the new and groundbreaking, but I feel like very few students know/comprehend that the science of today stands on the shoulders of hundreds, even thousands, of years of discovery. Some of the greatest breakthroughs have come from simple yet elegant experiments -- e.g., my hero Gregor Mendel's peas.

Plans. I haz them.

Sleep is elusive

I was awakened this morning by numerous puppy kisses -- first by Spanky (the four-month-old cocker spaniel who loves to roll around on my head), then by Mairead (the eight-week-old snuggle-icious rottweiler). Not a bad way to start the day, but I'm still so sleepy. I don't even have the energy to be annoyed that said puppies are currently shredding a Ding Dong wrapper that the Spankster got out of the small trashcan next to Dad's recliner.

Bibliophile squee!

So, One Spirit is having a clearance sale, and I found five books that I want to order. One is $10.99, and the rest are $5.99 each. Pretty good in and of itself, but then two other promotions were applied that I didn't think would be because, after all, these books are on clearance. Promo #1 = buy two books, get a third for $1.99 -- applied. Promo #2 = spend $25 or more, get shipping for $2.49 -- applied. So my order, which originally would have been $113.80, is only $33.44.

I love book sales!

It's a girl!

We got ourselves another new baby -- a seven week old rottweiler girl. I think we've decided to call her Mairead after Dad's favorite Irish fiddle player.


Edit: Now with photo. It's blurry, but I think you get the idea. Here she is surveying her new home and Spanky (our cocker spaniel pup) from my lap.

Sometimes the monsters are real . . . .

3. Bullet by Laurell K. Hamilton

The latest in the Anita Blake series, I finally got to sit down and read this one after being delayed by The Wreck. There's really not much to say about this that wouldn't count as a spoiler, so I'll just say Anita's limits -- metaphysically and romantically -- are pushed every which way but loose thanks to the return of Marmee Noir, the Mother of All Darkness. Some might complain about the lack of action, but the series has definitely become about intrigue. I for one like it.

Ouch!

If this "cold front" that's moving through the state today is making my legs ache like this, I have a horrible feeling that Spring with all its thunderstorms is going to be hell.

Yay.

What'd you do that for?

You know, it's very hard to poo-poo Valentine's Day when my parents give me a necklace from Montana Silversmiths.

I [heart] my little horseshoe.

In his eyes, I see our shadows

2. Bonobo Handshake by Vanessa Woods

This is a fascinating look into the lives of an ignored ape species that is just as closely related to humans as are chimpanzees. But where chimps are patriarchal, can be war-like and cannibalistic, and use sex as a weapon or punishment, bonobos are matriarchal, are peaceful and gentle, and use sex to reassure the frightened or to cement friendships. Woods also discusses the ongoing conflict in the Democratic Republic of Congo (bonobos' only home in the wild) and makes striking comparisons of behavior between the apes and ourselves. While the title of this post is a statement made literally by the author, I also saw our figurative selves in the bonobos' eyes -- a side of ourselves that we need to express more often.

This book is at once hilarious and heartbreaking. It is a must-read.

English editor is also in my repertoire

In December, I received a request from a professor in Germany for a copy of my review. He is in the final stages of writing a book on stress ecology, and he wanted my review to help him better understand FA. Quite an honor in and of itself. We've exchanged a couple of emails since then discussing various aspects of the paper, and he has provided me with a couple of papers that I hadn't seen as well as giving me a sneak peek at the intro of his book.

So yesterday I got an email from him asking if I could proofread his 400 page book for English grammar (he is not a native English speaker). In return, he will mention me in his foreword, pay me $2500 US, and give me a free copy of the book.

*passes out*

Gone! Gone! Smeagol is FREEEEEEE!

Got home from rehab yesterday. Oh, what a relief it is!

Grand total = 7 months, 7 days. Seems like a lot longer.

My daemon -- gakked from a friend

Your result for The Golden Compass Daemon Test...

Independent Soul.

You are calm and logical, but not unemotional. You are an introvert, at heart, preferring to read alone than be subjected to the crush and noise of a big party or bar. You have a few friends and family, whose presence you welcome - to a point. Even they can wear on your nerves eventually, and you need to retreat back into your personal space for a while so you can recharge. Your energy comes in bursts, after which you need a long nap or a couple of evenings at home to recuperate.

You are comfortable with yourself, and reasonably confident. You want the friendship and goodwill of others, but you are not willing to sacrifice your principles in order to get it. If your close friends need something that you can provide, however, you will be the first to offer it.

You are a good and sympathetic listener, and are aware of your friend's emotional states. With your very close friends, you will open up, but rarely - you don't like to burden people with your problems. At the same time, though, you are honest and are not willing to alter the truth for the sake of convenience. Among strangers you are reserved, and may resort to making jokes to disguise your true feelings.

While you are not afraid of conflict, you do not seek it, either. When you are hurt or insulted, you feel that you have a choice to make. You can choose to take the up on it and defend yourself, or you can let it pass. Your decision may depend on how well you know the person, how personally you take the insult, or simply what mood you are in that day. Your friends may not always know how you are going to react, for that reason. Whatever you reaction, though, you will be logical, rational and unnervingly accurate: a measured strike.

Your daemon's form would represent your calm, introverted nature, your cool logic, and your impatience with crowds of people. He or she would probably whisper ironic comments in your ear, give logical advice and try to hide his or her soft side from everyone, even you.

Suggested forms:
Peregrine Falcon, Snowy Owl, Snow Leopard, Siberian Tiger, Osprey.

Take The Golden Compass Daemon Test at HelloQuizzy

Pooped

I am so freaking tired today. Like, down in the bones, my brain hurts, my eyes are filled with sand tired. I have a book on bonobos sitting on the table, begging to be read, but it feels like even that would take too much energy. It's not like I've done anything to warrant being this tired. So, I was in my chair for eleven hours yesterday, but I was even starting to feel this way yesterday. So strange.

Damn you, Amazon

Your "Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought" feature is EEEE-VIL! Do you see how long my "to-read" list has gotten in the last half hour? Everything from the history of science to world mythology to the witch hunts to ecofeminism. Even some Milton and Virginia Woolf. That's in addition to the many disability books I put on my list a couple of weeks ago.

::sigh:: Thank goodness I'm going home next week to be near my faithful library with inter-library loan.

Nothing ever happens on a Sunday

1. The Monster of Florence by Douglas Preston with Mario Spezi

Nothing ever happens on a Sunday. These fateful words, spoken by a crime desk reporter at an Italian newspaper when he asks a fellow journalist to cover for him, begin a three decades-long search for a murderer that remains unsolved to this day. This book is a first-person account of what is easily the most botched investigation I have ever heard of. I saw this book on the bargain book shelf at the local Borders (unfortunately, independent booksellers without a religious agenda are non-existent here where I'm recovering), and I thought it would be an interesting story of serial murder in Tuscany. What it became, though, was a tragic discourse in political gain at the cost of truth, leaving innocent suspects ruined and victims' families without answers or even the hope of them.

Douglas Preston, famed American mystery novelist, becomes embroiled in the the story of Il Mostro di Firenze when he moves his family to Florence, Italy, to work on a new novel. The villa they occupy is adjacent to an olive grove in which the Monster killed two of his victims. He befriends Mario Spezi, the above named "fellow journalist", who spent much of his career writing about the Monster's murders. The two begin going through all of Spezi's old files with the intent of writing an article for The New Yorker, but instead they wind up being investigated themselves.

The investigation is a three-act tragedy, each act led by a different chief investigator with his own theory of who committed the murders and for what reason. The tragedy is that each investigator pursues his suspect with dogged relentless even in the face of evidence to the contrary. Preston remarks on tne evil of the Monster, but also the evil (as it were) of those who investigated the murders:

Some of the top investigators, prosecutors, and judges in the case, charged with the sacred responsibility of finding the truth, appeared to be more interested in using the case to leverage their power to greater personal glory. Having committed themselves to a defective theory, they refused to reconsider their beliefs when faced with overwhelming contradictory evidence. They cared more about saving face than saving lives, more about pushing their careers than putting the Monster behind bars. Around the Monster's incomprehensible evil had accreted layer upon layer of additional falsehood, vanity, ambition, arrogance, incompetence, and fecklessness. The Monster's acts were like a metastasized cancer cell, tumbling through the blood to lodge in some soft, dark corner, dividing, multiplying, building its own network of blood vessels and capillaries to feed itself, swelling, expanding, and finally killing. (p. 202)

The crazy investigation is a commentary on Italian culture, what Preston's friend Count Niccolo Capponi calls dietrologia = the study of behind, i.e., finding what's hidden behind the obvious. "'At all costs, they have to find something behind the apparent reality. There cannot not be something. Why? Because it is not possible that the thing you see is the truth. Nothing is simple, nothing is as it seems'" (p. 222).

Count Niccolo continues by explaining that Italians' inherent distrust of the rich figures into the prominent theory that a satanic cult is behind the murders, and that the investigators must "save face" even in the face of evidence disputing their theories.

"In Italy, the hatred of your enemy is such that he has to be built up, made into the ultimate adversary, responsible for all evil. The investigators in the Monster case know that behind the simple facts hides a satanic cult, its tentacles reaching into the highest levels of society. That is what they will prove, no matter what. Woe to the person . . . who disputes their theory because that makes him an accomplice. The more vehemently he denies being involved, the stronger is the proof." (pp. 222-223)

Preston pays no heed to this veiled warning from his friend and winds up being effectively kicked out of Italy after being intensely interrogated and accused of conspiring to help plant evidence to confuse the investigation. Later, Spezi is jailed.

If a fiction writer were to present a story of this nature to a publisher, it would probably be rejected as "unbelievable." This book certainly proves that truth is stranger than fiction.

Big News!

I'm going home Feb. 2nd.

*happy dance*

This is no place for a girl on fire

I forgot to write a review for the first of these books when I read it back in September or October. As for the second, I started it in 2010, which is why I put it on the 2010 Book List despite finishing it in 2011.


28. Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

There has been a lot of hype in recent months about this young adult trilogy of books and the movie being made of the first one. In my humble opinion, it is well deserved. Collins's characters are engaging -- even the ones we don't like. I love that the main character, Katniss, is not a Mary Sue. She IS smart and resourceful, but she also is unwittingly caught up in circumstances she can't control. She performs actions that she thinks are smart at the time and is stunned when things backfire. She's a kid in an insane world who's just trying to stay alive to continue taking care of her mother and sister.

Today, I had a 45 minute conversation with a 13-year-old boy (a son of the facility social worker) who had just finished this book. He knew I had read the book, and he came to my room this afternoon with the specific goal to talk about it. His enthusiasm for the story and the characters was amazing, and refreshing. I love to see kids excited by reading, and I especially love to see a kid talking intelligently about plot twists and character motivation. Any book that can inspire that is a win in my estimation.



29. Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

Poor Katniss. Her act of desperation and rebellion in Hunger Games has come back to bite her -- HARD. Now everything and everyone she holds dear is in danger. In an effort to squash rebellions in other districts, Panem's president tries to make Katniss his puppet, but the spark has landed and Katniss's best efforts cannot extinguish it. She has become the face of hope and rebellion, and when she's thrown back into the Games for the Quarter Quell, she resolves herself to being a martyr if it will keep safe her family, her friends, and her entire district.

I am eagerly awaiting my friend bringing me the third and final book.

My Celtic genes are squealing in delight!

A Spaniard playing Irish bagpipes -- these are the lovely and odd combinations I live for! Thanks, Roulette, for the link.

Torchwood sister series

Russell T. Davies -- he who revamped the Doctor Who franchise and then spawned Torchwood -- has come across the pond to work on what I'm calling a TW sister series for STARZ called Torchwood: Miracle Day. There's a little about it here and here. And more specific info about casting and such here.

::heads to bump up Torchwood in Netflix queue::

It's a boy!

My friend Marlo had her new baby boy at 3:48 this morning. He was 8 lbs, 8 oz. -- so he came in a TAD smaller than his older brother who was that weight when he was three days old. I don't know his name yet, but hopefully Marlo planned ahead this time and had a boy name in mind. With Cylis, she was absolutely convinced throughout her entire pregnancy she was having a girl. Poor kid went by "Baby X" among our tribe for a week. :-)

I'm thrilled for her but sad for me that I couldn't be there for this birth, too. Hopefully she'll send me pictures soon.

Texting, Circa 1860

From about.com's Grammar site

Essay to Miss Catharine Jay

An S A now I mean 2 write
2 U sweet K T J,
The girl without a ||,
The belle of U T K.

I 1 der if U got that 1
I wrote 2 U B 4
I sailed in the R K D A,
And sent by L N Moore. . . .

This S A, until U I C
I pray U 2 X Q's
And do not burn in F E G
My young and wayward muse.

Now fare U well, dear K T J,
I trust that U R true--
When this U C, then you can say,
An S A I O U.

(Charles Carroll Bombaugh, Gleanings From the Harvest-Fields of Literature, Science and Art: A Melange of Excerpta, Curious, Humorous, and Instructive, 2nd ed. Baltimore: T. Newton Kurtz, 1860)

Amazing short story

Thank you to a friend for posting this on her blog.

Go read A Private Experience by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. You will not regret it.

Stephen King Library

I just joined the Stephen King Books site so I can work on completing my collection of his books. What's funny is: (a) I just bought the introductory book (his latest -- Full Dark, No Stars) on one of my visits home, and (b) I just ordered one of the free gifts (the SK desk calendar) through one of my other book clubs. Not to worry! My aunt (also an SK fan) is having a birthday in ten days, so I will give her one set.

Now I just need to go through my collection to determine which books are missing/which need to be replaced so I can mark on their list which ones they should send me.

Forensic geek girl squee

CSI marathon on USA! Starting with the older ones.

Grissom, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

As if my 2011 To-Read list weren't big enough . . .

. . . I get the Goodreads January newsletter with a ton of new releases.

Oy. I'm going to be on a first-name basis with every McPherson Public Library employee. But then again, I should be used to that.

Grrrrrr!

Stupid impending snow showers. Stupid healing broken bones. Ow. Ow. Ow.

At least I got in a good lunch with Lynlee and Pax before my legs started hurting.

Seriously . . . where's my Percocet? Yes, it's that bad.

I wear my sunglasses at night

Or, while I'm sleeping. Cuz I'm groovy like that.





This is my cousin Amanda's baby, Grace. You can't tell me she isn't one of the cutest babies ever.

Are you kidding me?

I just saw the most ridiculous commercial -- a $90 per month facial cream called "Stem Cell Therapy" that will "stimulate the stem cells in your skin to make you look YEARS younger."

Listen up, people. We do not have stem cells in our skin. We have rapidly reproducing skin cells in our skin, but they are not stem cells. Stem cells can differentiate into any of several different types of cells depending on the stimuli they receive. Skin cells are just that -- skin cells.

Save your $90 and learn to love who you are.

More 2010 good news

I just learned that my friend Brian has finally gotten a publisher for his book Hell to Pay. The book will be out this August.

Congratulations, Mighty Bri -- I'm SO excited and happy for you!

2010 in Review

As I lay in bed late last night (early this morning) listening to the fireworks and gunshots ringing in the new year, I was momentarily depressed as I realized I had spent more than half the year in rehab. I'd lost my entire summer and fall, and I'd spent my birthday and favorite holiday (Halloween) locked up. My poor, dear Moby suffered an early, untimely, and certainly undeserved demise at the hands of a careless young man.





My body, as though not experiencing enough physical challenges, was busted all to hell, resulting in me being pinned and plated and rodded to the point that I now have more hardware inside me than a Home Depot. I thought of all the rough things my friends have also gone through this year.

But suddenly I thought, "Wait. It's the first hour of a new year, and thinking of the negatives is not the way to start it." So instead, I started thinking about the good things that have happened in 2010, and suddenly I realized that even though so many bad things have happened, some pretty amazing things have happened, too.

March -- My cousin Josh and his wife Kyla welcomed the newest member of their family, Makynna Lynnlee. "Kenya" (a slip of one of her sisters' tongue) is Josh's fourth and Kyla's second.





March -- I was introduced to the group Great Big Sea ("from the tropical island of Newfoundland") via a concert my friend Lynlee took me to.








March -- My friends Jonikka and Erik were married on the Spring Equinox. I was the maid of honor.







April -- I received notification that I had been awarded one of the prestigious Ford Fellowships to help me complete my dissertation.

April? -- My friend Suzanne successfully completed her Ed.D. at UCSD.

May -- My friend Anita quit her job. You might think this would be a bad (maybe even a horrible) thing, but if you knew even half the s--- she had to put up with from her boss, you'd realize how fabulous this is.

June -- My cousin Amanda and her husband Jim welcomed the newest member of their family, Grace Ellen. She is Amanda's first and Jim's third.





July -- I got up in my chair for the first time in a month.

August -- I went with my folks to see Celtic Woman in concert. Fab. U. Lous.

August -- I celebrated my 39th birthday. Many people dread birthdays of this magnitude, but not me. According to the doctors in London who diagnosed me when I was 3, I wasn't supposed to live past 20. Every birthday since then has been a celebration.

October -- My fluctuating asymmetry review -- on which I'd been writing and rewriting for four years and had submitted to three journals -- was finally accepted for publication by Reviews in Fish Biology and Fisheries.

October -- I officially became eligible for the state program "Money Follows the Person" because I had been in rehab at least 90 days. This program automatically gets me paid attendant care at home when I finally escape this joint -- something I've been trying to get since I moved back to Kansas last December.

November -- My friend Marrus married her very own G.I. Joe (term used affectionately) in a "shotgun" wedding as Jay will be deployed very soon. You can see their custom cupcake topper and a picture of their gorgeous selves on Marrus's LJ.

November -- I got to go home for the first time in six months.

November -- My friend Amanda and her husband Roger welcomed the newest member of their family, Kaylynn Lee. Kay was a little early and experienced some respiratory issues, but to my knowledge she is now doing well. She is Amanda and Roger's first.

November -- My friend Anita successfully completed her masters thesis at WSU. She was so amazing.

December -- I was contacted by a masters student in the Philippines and a professor in Germany requesting copies of my review as their universities do not have subscriptions to that journal.



So now, my goals for the year. I really only have two major ones. First, I'm getting out of this rehab hell. Seven months is far too long for someone like me to be locked up, and it's time to go home. Second, I'm completing my Ph.D. It might take me until November, but you can put money on being able to call me Doctor Dawn no later than Christmas. Early notice to my New Orleans tribe -- you are hereby invited to my dissertation presentation and to my hooding at graduation, and we should start planning where to have my celebration. As to that last, there had better be fruity-rum drinks involved! To my biological family and to my Kansas pack -- anyone who wishes/is able to come to either the defense or the hooding is soooo welcome!


Finally, I'd like to thank everyone who has been so supportive of me over the last seven months. Your visits, calls, and emails have really helped keep me sane. I love you all, and I hope your 2011 is filled to overflowing with love, happiness, and blessings in your personal and professional endeavors.