From Elizabeth

See what your hobbit name is at: http://www.chriswetherell.com/hobbit/.
Mine is Iris Frumblefoot of Bywater.

See what your elf name is at: http://www.chriswetherell.com/elf/.
Mine is Alatariel Minyatur.

Never leave Barney and Chad to entertain themselves on a Sunday

Something told me yesterday as I was walking home from the bus stop after a pleasant afternoon at the aquarium with my next door neighbor that I should stick my head in the office. I arrived today to find the grad student office and adjoining computer room COMPLETELY rearranged. ::shakes head:: Why can't boys leave well enough alone? The plus is that my back is no longer to the door, but the minus is that my back is to all my officemates. Do I REALLY trust those yahoos to sit behind me? I wonder about a couple of them . . . especially the one whose name starts with a "C."

Speaking of boys whose names start with "C," he was all worried that I would be upset about the replaced Reba pad, especially after he'd found out someone had made it for me. In case I didn't mention it before, he tried to wash Reba's bed for me while I was gone and apparently had some difficulty with the cover -- like it fell apart and/or he couldn't get it back on the pad. Then he was worried that the new bed was too small for Reba to lay on. ::shakes head again:: Dork. And no, I didn't say that to HIM. Extra point for me.

Quiz

My pal Lynlee had this on her blog, and I told her I'd put it on mine. I think you're supposed to answer the questions in the comments section.

1. Who are you?

2. Are we friends?

3. When and how did we meet?

4. Do you have a crush on me?

5. Would you kiss me?

6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.

7. Describe me in one word.

8. What was your first impression?

9. Do you still think that way about me now?

10. What reminds you of me?

11. If you could give me anything what would it be?

12. How well do you know me?

13. When's the last time you saw me?

14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?

15. Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you?

Here follows the adventures of Dawn and her return to NOLA

After waking on Friday morning from a dream in which I arrived late to the airport and had to run to catch my plane, I headed into town to buy a new battery ($69.99) and earpiece ($19.99) for my cell phone and a new portable CD player ($49.99). Mein Vater had given me $100 the night before just because, and it went a long way to the purchase of these necessities. Yes, a portable CD player is a necessity as it gives me focus during those late night anxiety attacks. Returned home to discover the earpiece wouldn't work with my phone -- contrary to the word of the Radio Shack salesman. Mom went back to town and found an earpiece exactly like mine at the Alltel store, and we threw away the old one. Remember that.

About 2:15 we started loading the van and headed for the airport. My plane didn't start loading until 3:57, so we had plenty of time to get there, check my suitcase, go to the bathroom, and get something to eat. Arrived at the airport, and while Mom parked the van one of my attendants called. I put on my new earpiece and attempted to call her back. It didn't work. WTF??? Then to make things better, we must have entered a time blackhole somewhere. As I was standing in line to check my bag and get my boarding passes (which took fracking forever because of my wheelchair -- yes I know I get on the plane first, yes I know I sit in the bulkhead seat, my batteries are sealed, I need a transfer, blah blah blah), I looked up at the clock and was astonished (actually, mortified) to see it read 3:44. I still had to pee and get through security, but forget eating. Ran to the bathroom, peed, called attendant while peeing, and ran to security. The woman who felt me up (frisked) took her dear sweet time, then we ran for the gate all the way at the end of the terminal -- all to find out the plane was delayed. At first I breathed a sigh of relief and ate some nachos, but as more and more time passed I became worried. I had a little over an hour between flights in Dallas -- was I going to miss the NOLA plane?

Turns out our plane was delayed because of nasty weather in Dallas, so needless to say ALL PLANES were running behind. The new time for my NOLA plane (originally set to leave at 6:47) was 7:17. By the time I got off the Wichita plane and got to the NOLA gate (thank the gods I didn't have to change terminals -- a first for me), the departure time was 8:08.

Then it was 8:28.

Then it was 8:45.

Then it was 9:15.

Then they didn't bother changing it anymore.

We finally started loading at around 10:00 or 10:30. As we taxied toward the runway, the pilot came on to say we had a 45 minute wait for takeoff because of the long queue. Fortunately we only had to wait about 20 or so minutes, and we were FINALLY in the air. After landing, getting transferred, Barney putting my chair back together, transferring again, and riding home, I got home at around 1:15 a.m.

But there were some bright spots to the whole thing:

1. On the Wichita plane, I sat next to a woman whose daughter was in my sister's class in high school. I told her my name, and she said, "Oh, I thought you looked familiar." Her daughter moved to Nashville a year ago to break in to the country music scene and is apparently doing rather well. She has a gig in Boston today, is opening for an act at the Fair in September (mom couldn't remember who), and has several appearances over the next few months to promote her CD. I went to her website last night and listened to a couple of song clips. She has a great voice.

2. There are still really nice people in the world. One in particular is a woman named Jane who sat across from me on the Wichita plane and was also on the NOLA plane. As we all waited to leave Dallas, she shared her pizza with me, got Reba and me water, and helped me get situated in the plane seat after the airline idiots transferred me. There were also two other ladies waiting for the NOLA plane who helped me as well.

3. NOLA now has a wc-accessible taxi!! The shuttle had shut down by the time I got in to town, but the shuttle service manager had arranged for the taxi to take me home. It is a London cab (you can see what it looks like at http://www.taxiadvertising.com/liveried.htm) with a lowered floor and fold out ramp for wc access. The service's number is now in my cell phonebook.

Now it's back to the grind of finding new attendants and thinking about writing a fluctuating asymmetry review. Oh yeah, and figuring out how I'm going to get fish for my research.

Is Katie Holmes past saving?

The more I hear about this, the sicker I feel. I used to have a small amount of respect for Tom Cruise, but I think he and Mel Gibson have joined hands and jumped off into the wide chasm of looney tunes, never to utter a sane word again. Check out the links found at http://www.adammessinger.com/2005/07/15/katie-holmes-w-interview by my pal Adam.

If I ever get this stupid over a man (assuming, of course, I ever GET a man), don't waste time trying to save me. Just shoot me in the head. Even if I survive, I'll be less brain-dead than living with a minder and giggling like an idiot and not being able to think for myself.

Maybe Katie's folks need to hire a PI and have her grabbed so they can de-brainwash her.

Venturing off-campus, pretending to have a life

I talked Erika into going to the Quarter with me today so I could buy Naomi's jasmine oil. I also thought since I would be at Erzulies getting the jasmine, I might as well treat myself to the sandalwood oil as a congrats for surviving my second semester of the Ph.D. program. OK, OK -- the bracelets I bought a few weeks ago were supposed to be a gift to myself, too. Fine, I wanted the sandalwood oil. I've never EVER smelled sandalwood essential oil (all I've ever had access to was fragrance oil), and I wanted the EO. So sue me.

So we hopped the bus to the Quarter and walked around trying to find a place to eat. We finally settled for Chartres House, and I had the seafood sampler appetizer as my lunch. Catfish, shrimp, crawfish, crab claws, and oysters with french fries and hush puppies. Oysters are extremely overrated. They're kinda gross, actually. One of the waiters was flirting with me, and Erika chalked it up to my "hot" black lace-up shirt and my new 'do (which, by the way, looks much better with my natural fluffiness) -- I think he was just flirty in general.

While having lunch, Erika was talking about pralines, so after we ate she took me to the Green Pirogue (=a dugout or canoe). I bought two dozen pralines to bring home for my friends and fam. E and I each also bought a turtle praline (a regular praline with caramel and chocolate -- VERY dangerous stuff!) and E bought this coconut and chocolate piece of heaven we shared as we walked to get her some phone cards to call Mexico. We wandering into an import-export shop after a bustier-type blouse caught my eye. We rifled through some blouses in the back of the shop, and the owner came back and started chatting with us. One blouse caught my eye. We put it on over my shirt -- I was thinking, "No way, this is too much. Too risque. No way." Then the lady held the mirror over, and I actually looked OK in it. E's opinion -- "Oh hell yeah, Dawn! That is sexy."

I still can't believe I bought it. It's one thing for me to be wearing this black lace-up job ("Holy cow, I have boobs!"), but it's another to be wearing this Indian embroidered royal blue number with lacing all the way down. The modesty panel will be in place, you can count on that. The shop owner was even complimenting me, and she was being honest because she actually recommended me the blue one instead of the silvery-blue one I tried on. She said the silvery one was a good color for me, but the darker blue wouldn't accent the curve of my back as much if that was what I preferred. Like I said, I got the blue one, and I appreciated her candor.

But I talked E into the silvery-blue one. ::evil laugh::

After that, we wandered back up Royal Street, stopping to listen to street performers and looking in shop windows as we went. We went in to one shop that offered all kinds of autographed memorabilia from posters to guitars to books. This place had stuff from various presidents (including Abe Lincoln), popular and classic TV shows (including an army helmet signed by the entire "M.A.S.H." cast) and movies, rockers from Elvis and the Beatles to Nirvana and KISS, and authors galore. We saw a signed To Kill a Mockingbird, a season one or two "CSI" poster signed by the entire cast ($695), one of Elvis's guitars ($45K), and a bit of a speech penned by Abe Lincoln ($23K). Naturally, they had several Anne Rice books, including those written under one of her pseudonyms (Exit to Eden was one). A signed Witching Hour was $595, and a signed The Vampire Lestat was $1695. I about passed out.

After that, we finally made it back to Rue Dumaine. I bought a couple of candles at Esoterica, and our last stop was Erzulies. Anna was actually there (the last couple of times I've stopped in have been on her days away from the shop), and she came bounding around the counter with a "Hello, Sunshine!" as E helped me up the step. She gave me a big hug, and she and Nancy asked about school. I really love it when you can become familiar with certain shop keepers (or vendors at RenFaires).

So, that was my big day. I'm a few dollars poorer, but I have some quality stuff and good food in my belly.

Now if I can just get up the guts to wear that new blouse.

Confidence transformation, step two

Got my hair cut today. Was funny at one point because another stylist came over about halfway through and said, "Oh wow, that looks great." It looks pretty groovy right now, but I'm reserving judgment until it gets poofy again. Yvette used a flat iron on it so she could get it all to lay straight to cut (I couldn't get it washed, see, cuz I had no way to get into the chair). Erika loves it. My next door neighbor said it looked good, but it was kind of with that tone that boys use when they know to say anything else will get them slugged. He was more enthusiastic about my out-of-character green shirt.

Yvette assured me repeatedly that when my hair goes back to its usual I-have-really-thick-and-coarse-hair poof that it will still look good. If not, there are always headbands and ponytails until it grows out. I refuse to buy a flat iron and straighten it every freaking day!

It's a lot shorter than I've had it in a very long time. When I pull it over my shoulder, it only goes halfway down my upper arm. My head is so freaking light! Yvette worked with the natural part and cut long bangs to frame my face, and the rest just angles down from that to the length. There are a few layers, too. Like I said, I'm reserving judgment until I wash it again and it gets its full poof on.

And so it begins

We have our first tropical depression due to hit on Friday. Lots of rain and the potential for 70 MPH winds.

I can hardly wait.

I REALLY need to find a van, what with the hurricane season they're predicting. More category 3 and 4 hurricanes than last year, and we had A LOT last year.

::sigh:: Remind me again why it was a good idea to come here.

Don't be jealous of my life

Barney made the comment in a meeting day before yesterday that he wants me to gather up everything known about fluctuating asymmetry. So today I did a computer search in Biological Abstracts and came up with 855 articles, and these only go back as far as 1975 and very likely aren't all of them. I am, at this very moment, coalating all these 855 references and their corresponding abstracts into one Word file.

I'm on record 15.

::sigh:: And then I need to do the same thing for hypoxia and fish -- 965 there.

It's gonna be a loooooong Summer.

Confidence transformation, step one

Took the day off from school to go to Thrift City with Erika. She, Natalie, and I have been trying to get there to buy me some new shirts for a couple of months. Natalie has harped me no end about me buying shirts that are too big, shirts I have bought bigger on purpose to cover my big belly. I purchased nothing bigger than a large. Go me.

Natalie didn't make it with us to TC since she left for home yesterday, but it was still a productive trip. I got ten new shirts and a book for $16.26 (it was half price Thursday, except for the book which was a whopping $2.52 – my most expensive item). My two favorites are a mocha colored light sweater which even *I* will admit looks pretty damned good on me and a little short-sleeved black number with a lace-up front. The most interesting find was the very first one: a short-sleeved, scoop-necked job in a shade of green I NEVER would have bet money I could pull off with my hair. Erika has a great eye.

We’re planning a digital fashion show for Natalie after step two.

Step two comes week after next when E gets back from her Mexico trip: a new hairdo. ::bites nails::

On Time and Darkness

When did it get to be May? Times goes by so quickly sometimes that it makes me dizzy to think about it. Sarah will be eighteen in two months, and it seems like only a year or two ago that I was mad that no one called me at camp to tell me she’d been born. I was sixteen then. Was I ever really sixteen?

I’ve lived in New Orleans for nine months. Nine months. It’s so much time yet not much time at all. Sometimes I think I have nothing to show for my almost 34 years on this planet, and other times I think I’ve done so much.

I watched "What’s Eating Gilbert Grape" tonight, and the scene where Johnny Depp and Juliette Lewis watch the sunset and then walk along a deserted dirt road in the utter dark with fields spreading to either side made me a little nostalgic for home. I miss watching the Sun set over the fields, watching Darkness envelope me slowly and lovingly, watching the Stars peek out of the Darkness one by one until there are hundreds then thousands then millions of them winking at me. Darkness is not known in the city, not even here on the edge where the lake stretches to the horizon. The city’s inhabitants are afraid of Her, and even as a child I never understood why. Without Darkness there are no Stars to play hide-and-seek. I feel Them beyond the edge of the city lights. My eyes search in vain for Them, and I feel Them call to me, but They are hidden from me by the city’s fear. Even the Moon is sometimes difficult to see.

It makes me more than a little sad.

Lazy, hot Saturday

I headed off to the Quarter and the Marigny today. A woman who had inquired about an attendant position with me a few months ago but subsequently couldn't do it invited me to "coffee or lunch or whatever." At the time she answered my ad, her part-time job had gone full-time, but she said she thought I sounded like "a very interesting woman" and wanted to meet me anyway. She emailed me again at the beginning of the week, and I met her at her other part-time job in the French Market at around 11:00.

I had never been in the French Market, and it really isn't that big of a deal. It's overcrowded with tourists, it's hot in the Summer (and it IS Summer now here), and the merchandise isn't anything I haven't seen before -- though admittedly I've never been to any place which boasts three stalls in quick succession devoted strictly to Tabasco products. It was a little difficult to maneuver Reba and myself through most of it, and I was just starting to get cranky when I looked up and saw a sight which never fails to cheer me and make my heart go pitty-pat.

Amber. Loads and loads of amber. ::sigh:: Oh, happy, happy Dawn!

I drooled only a few seconds over earrings and bracelets when one of the ladies came around to help me -- since I could and did easily rest my chin on the tabletop. She produced a tri-colored bracelet set in sterling and draped it across my wrist. Green and cognac/cherry ovals winked against my browning wrist accented by muted butterscotch lovelies. ::sigh:: //Oh, take me home// it whispered seductively. However, just before the lady had come around, a multi-stone bracelet (moonstone, onyx, amethyst, garnet, mother-of-pearl, and a stone that I can't decide whether it's rose quartz or pink moonstone) had caught my eye, so I placed the two bracelets across the same wrist to let them duke it out for who got to go home with me. Problem was -- they played nice with each other. I balked a little at the price on the amber one (being an afficionado, I know it was over-priced, but not much). I warred for a couple of minutes until I decided I deserved them both. I've worked hard the last five months, I have an idea of what I'm going to do for my diss, and I just plain wanted them both. So I bought them. Take THAT, frugal conscience!

I then met Debbie and we took off for lunch in the Marigny. I really like the Marigny. It's quiet, it lacks tourists, it overflows with excellent food and drink and music and pleasant people, and there's lots to see even if some of it IS from the doorway because there's a step at the entrance. Debbie, though QUITE talkative, is a great woman who is originally from San Francisco (actually born there to beatnik parents) but has lived in NO for the last twenty years. She's 55 and done a lot from tutoring/mentoring kids to being a legal secretary to managing a fledgling band. She's discovered Hinduism and so in the last half hour of hanging out we had some interesting religious discussion. She was helpful enough to volunteer to help me over the stoop of the corner bookstore (next time, I said, as I'd been bouncing over bumpy sidewalks for a while and just didn't feel like volunteering for more bouncing) and clean up after Reba who decided to pop a squat in the middle of the sidewalk (::blush:: -- my dog has absolutely NO shame). After the bus arrived to take Reebs and me home (we were BOTH pretty hot after four-and-a-half hours in the Sun), she said we need to get together again soon because we still have LOADS to talk about. I agreed.

Also on our excursions, I found a place where I might consider getting my next haircut and a groovy clothing store called Gargoyles full of leather and lace and twenty-something Goth salesclerks with groovy tattoos (Anita, Jonikka, Jessie, and Sarah are SO getting taken there when they come visit me -- hint, hint). I stopped by Erzulie's only to find that it was owner Anna's day off. Her regular sales clerk (Nancy?) assured me she'd tell her I stopped by to say hello, and she told me Anna would genuinely be sorry she'd missed me. Seems, according to Nancy, Anna was muchly impressed with my knowledge of oils. ::blush:: I get the sense it takes a lot to impress Anna, so I'm honored.

Came home to discover the jerk-wads who live upstairs and like to throw their cig butts over their balcony onto my and my neighbor's stoops had decided to leave three bags and one box of trash on the sidewalk. I called the staff to report it because my next-door neighbor Erick and I refuse to get charged for it. I was told that someone had already called about it (discovered later it was Erick), they knew exactly who it was, the perps had already been written up for a previous offense, and if the trash was still there in the morning they would be written up and charged $30 for removal. Good, as long as you don't think it was Erick and/or me.

Now I'm just reading Harry Potter 5 and trying to stay awake. All in all, a good day.

Grade check

All my grades are finally posted for the semester. Two of them I wasn't worried about. Scientific Communications (the one I was doing the proposal for) I wasn't so sure about. I pulled an A there, as well.

The first person to say "I don't know why you were worried you always get A's" will be phrenologized with my elevator stick and then shown last semester's B in my seminar class. It ain't as easy to get an A in the Ph.D. program as one might think. Especially from Dr. Grady. I've gotten two A's from that man (Sci Comm this semester and the infamous fish class last semester), and I've worked my ass off and deprived myself of much free time and sleep for them.

This semester's GPA = 4.0.
Overall GPA = 3.875.
Getting an A on my proposal from one of the toughest profs ever = priceless.

Barbecue fun

Hosted a barbecue today. My pals Erika and Natalie and Natalie's boyfriend were the only ones to eat. Melissa came over with her mom and her friend, but I knew she probably wouldn't stay long since she's packing to move back to Pennsylvania on Tuesday. ::sniff, sob:: My first pal in NO is leaving. Rachel was working in the lab, and science being science, her gel preempted her plans to come eat burgers and grilled veggies and salsa. Chad never bothered to show, which I suspected on Thursday when he replied that he "wasn't making any promises" about coming when I asked. I found out from Melissa that he had gone scuba diving with another grad student and her husband. He couldn't just say he was going diving -- he had to be such a freaking MAN and beat around the bush. Jerk. His loss, because the burgers were perfect and Natalie's strawberry cheese pie was a hit. Erika and I each had two slices, and we soon regretted it when we couldn't breathe. My salsa sucked because I put in too much chili powder, but no one's perfect.

Just sitting here . . .

. . . trying to get motivated to open up the reviews of my research proposal and work on my oral presentation which must be given Tuesday. The biodiversity paper is finished, thus that excuse is gone. I AM rather sleepy since I didn't get to bed until 2:00 (I'm getting too old for that), I got up at 8:30, and it's POURING rain right now. Good thing I didn't have plans to go to Jazz Fest today. Reba's clinging to me because we've had a couple of big claps of thunder (one of which set off two car alarms -- made me laugh), so I have to be careful every time I move or I'll run over her.

::Nickleback begins playing on the WinAmp:: Oh, that might help me wake up.

:: Huge Sigh ::

The proposal has been handed in, for better or worse. I don't really care which. Had a biodiversity exam today which was preceded by the prof saying that university regs require him to give us a final exam, so we've just had an exam added when we thought today would be it for exams. So, not only do I need to finish all the other things I'm sure I've mentioned at least a couple of times, but I have another freaking exam.

I'd curse like a drunken sailor, but religious people read this and might lose what little respect they have for me.

Add to that my dad having the rest of his toe amputated (the first half of which was whacked off only a mere month ago) and my three-year-old niece having her tonsils and adenoids removed (that's too young to have to even know what a tonsil is), and I'm a cheery, chipper girl.

I don't even have enough change to hitch the bus to the store and buy a bottle of wine. If I drank wine.

Maybe I'll actually sleep tonight and then maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.

Doing a happy dance

Thank the Higher -- I'm almost done with my proposal. ::huge sigh:: I just need to put my budget in tabular format, justify the money I need, write up why my research is significant SLASH what it will contribute to the scientific community, write a summary, and fill out the university routing and animal subject certification forms.

Egads, I might actually finish it by tomorrow night. Then I can start studying for Thursday's biodiversity exam.

Have my third . . .

. . . committee member as of Wednesday or Thursday night. AND I have a basic outline of my research, so I'm going to talk to Barney about setting up my qualifying exam for the middle to the end of May.

Dad was sprung from the hospital Friday. They really have never conclusively figured out what happened, but it wasn't his heart and it wasn't his pancreas. They did a scope on Wednesday and removed some scar tissue from his esophagus, and he steadily started feeling better. I'm not totally convinced that was all, but what do I know?

Drooled over microscopes and vans on Ebay. Alas, but I can afford neither at the moment.

Long awaited (I suppose) updates

Dad was admitted to the hospital today. He was having a pain in his chest that was too low for his heart -- they think it's his pancreas. Shades of when I was in middle and high school and he was diagnosed with lupus. I hope that stuff's not flaring up again.

You may or may not note the time of this entry. Yep, it's that time of the semester again. Was up in the office working on a presentation for my seminar course on temperature dependent sex determination in reptiles. Rather interesting stuff. Finished a paper over Spring Break on the effects of endocrine disruptors on alligators in Florida -- you know, teeny weinies. The scientists are laughing, all the mundanes are scratching their heads and saying, "Huh?" ::giggle:: If you want to know -- if you REALLY want to know -- email me.

Speaking of Spring Break -- I actually went out for the first time in . . . in . . . oh, hell, I don't even remember. Went down to the Quarter (I didn't feel like transferring buses), bought some truly HEAVENLY Cashmir lavender essential oil, shared beignets with my pals Natalie and Erika, and went to the Hookah Cafe to eat Indian food and smoke a little hookah. It's not nearly as interesting as it sounds, and no, Mr. Chairman, I didn't inhale. Bus home was the downer on the whole fun time. I swear pretty soon all the buses in the city are going to have my photo along with a note that reads, "Do what you have to do to get her on the bus, just so she doesn't call the ride line."

Well, I suppose I ought to do some more sex in reptiles stuff. Or maybe I'll just play Bejeweled until my attendant gets here. Where is my cousin on the MSN Messenger when I need some entertainment? Probably on a date, damn her!

Balance by Ralph Marston

If leisure is the only thing you know, then you cannot ever fully enjoy it. If effort is all you know, then you cannot ever fully experience the fruits of your labors. Leisure has meaning only when it is balanced with effort. Effort has meaningful results only when it is balanced with leisure and relaxation. A full day's work will enable you to get a good night's sleep. A good night's sleep will enable you to perform a full day's work.

When life is in balance, it is powerful and effective. When life gets out of balance, it cannot continue that way for very long. When you balance one thing with another, you're able to achieve maximum value from both.

So balance effort with rest, excitement with serenity, fellowship with solitude, and expression with observation. When the load is balanced, you can carry it a long way. Keep your life in balance, and you will surely go far.

This story gave me chills when I read it:

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/ap/20050319/ap_on_re_us/death_of_a_prodigy

I get the sense that this boy was a very special spirit who came here for a very special purpose.

Quick updates

Too many papers, an exam (excuse me, QUIZ) tomorrow, cramps from hell, a sick dog, lots of rain, a wet dog, minor spats with the labmate, researching polluted sites for fish collection, research proposal to write, one more committee member to find for qualifying exams, potential headway in apartment ordeal, a pretty rock collection received from a pal back home as a pick-me-up (including a rhino figurine carved from lapis), first good pal I've made here in NO is moving back to PA in May, Dad had part of his toe amputated to stave off infection, Paul is examining back pain relief options, hoping to finally get past background info and into actual therapy in my counseling session on Monday, AND had fun at a pizza party last Monday.

Haven't managed to get back to the audio CDs, and haven't managed to work recently on Nay's belated birthday story. Still can't figure out why. It's not like I'm doing anything.

A Brief History of Nearly Everything

My pal Chad loaned me this audiobook by Bill Bryson yesterday, and I've been listening to it as I type my Biodiversity notes and eating supper (those latter two NOT at the same time ::grin::). I'm only through chapter one -- twice, because I got distracted while trying to interpret my own handwriting and lost track of the book -- and so far the description of the formation of the universe and how large it is has made me feel very small and insignificant indeed. The writing is very much geared toward the layperson, and there's enough humor thrown in to keep all this science-geeky-nerd stuff from getting boring, even to a science-geeky-nerd. Highly recommend this one to anyone who has an interest in science -- and that's saying something considering I'm only JUST on chapter two.

I'll ply you with updates.

I'm 2/3 the way there for qualifying

I officially have two committee members. I talked to Dr. Grady (my Biology of Fishes prof from last semester -- you remember -- Dorosoma petenense, Sphyrna tiburo, arg, those f---ing minnows!!) today, and he said he'd be "honored" to be on my diss committee. He asked what I'm planning on doing and seemed fairly satisfied with my oh-so-sketchy outline. But I'll tell you the part that caught me off guard. We were talking about the qualifying exams, wondering why they call them EXAMS when there is not a single exam component to the process, and I commented about probably having to take a couple of courses because my GREs are crap. I said that I really am not the dunce the scores show me to be, and he replied that of the Ph.D. candidates he knows in the department, I'm the top as far as my reasoning ability and ability to ask and answer questions. He also stated he was more than confident in my ability to complete the degree (apparently he questions that in some). Believe me, that's high praise from anyone, but especially from Grady. And this was the guy back in May that I thought was trying to talk me out of coming here! He did make the comment again today that he made back in May that some people are going to look at my degree and say, "You got your Ph.D. WHERE?" But I don't think he was saying it today in a bad way -- I think it was his roundabout way of saying I need to make sure that I have a solid study in every aspect. That's why I want him on my committee, because I know I can count on him to offer comments that will only make my work stronger. I just need to make sure I remember that when he's asking me questions, because he can really come off like he's shredding you. He's just kinda gruff like that.

Small steps

I had a meeting with my advisor yesterday afternoon, and I'm both slightly overwhelmed and feeling slightly better. My brain has been working against me lately (see previous post), and I've had a hard time concentrating on developing a project. I have some very loose ideas and have been trying to do a literature search to tighten up the threads, but my tiredness (both mentally and physically) have been making that a touch difficult. I've talked with Barney briefly about it, and he set me onto some older literature to try to help me focus. I'll be working my way through some of that this weekend.

On a slightly brighter note, we decided that I could probably do my qualifying exam pretty soon (by the end of the Summer, at the latest) -- a full year ahead of the deadline at which we are supposed to have it done. This consists of sitting down with three committee members (I definitely have one in Barney, a definite idea to ask for a second, and I'm waffling on the third) to go over my GRE subject scores and plan out my courses as well as deciding what to do about the foreign language and advanced statistics requirements. I also need to have an idea of what I want to study. The advantage to doing this now as opposed to a year from now (besides getting it out of the way) is that the expectations for the research component are lower. Right now, I'd only need a specific idea and broad questions, whereas a year from now I'd have to have all (or a majority) of the methods lined out. I think I'll go for now, thanks.

As far as my anxiety goes, the meeting with Barney has me feeling a little better. I'm still meeting with the Student Health doc on Monday (he wasn't in yesterday), and I have an appointment on Friday at the counseling center to try to work through all the stuff I've been letting build up over the last few YEARS and to learn some relaxation techniques.

I love how your subconscious can work against you

Not much going on right now except school and battling pain in the a--, er, buttocks, anxiety attacks. I've been to Student Health about them twice in as many weeks, and the last doc I talked to said that if they start dominating my life to come back in and we'll discuss meds.

I'm going back tomorrow.

It's bad enough right now, I had to drug myself two nights ago with Reba's Benadryl to get any sleep. I think I may know what's going on, at least partially, so I'll also be making an appointment (well, more than one) at the counseling center to work through that and to learn some relaxation techniques.

Let's jusy say I'm finally realizing that being an emotional rock has its pitfalls.

Peace Inside by Ralph Marston

When troubles come toward you, let peace come from you. When the world is filled with anger, frustration and confusion, that is when a peaceful heart can be the most valuable.

The more peaceful you are, the more effective you become. When your heart is filled with peace, your energy is more positively and purposefully focused.

The longer you remain peaceful, the stronger you become. Peace on the inside thus leads to real, meaningful success on the outside.

You can choose to carry peace within you, no matter what may be happening around you. Let the calm, deep power of peace energize your spirit and it will surely make a difference.

With peace at your very core, your thoughts are clear and your actions filled with purpose.

Whatever the challenges of the moment may be, you have what it takes to move successfully through them. Peace is something you can always choose to carry confidently inside you. The more you do, the more moments you'll fill with purpose and meaning.

Beads, bands, and buses -- the joy of Mardi Gras

Well, I hit the Mardi Gras scene on Saturday to see part of one of the biggest parades they have here in NO. I say “part” because the Endymion parade is reputed to be on the streets for seven hours because it has 32 floats, numerous marching bands, and one 200+ foot float. Didn’t see the latter because I just wasn’t hanging around until midnight. Probably would have had more trouble getting home than I did. More on that later.

Got to the parade grounds about a half an hour late because the buses were/are all screwed up because of Carnival/Mardi Gras. Still got to see the first float (from afar) because of NO time. I saw the float which boasted actress Marisa Tomei, but I didn’t see Marisa Tomei. No biggie. Who I DID see was Tom Felicia off “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” (and those Pier One commercials) on another float. He was having a blast flinging beads all over the place.

Speaking of beads, I made off with about five and a half pounds of the suckers despite the fact that the women who were “nice” enough to let me up in front so I could see always managed to snag the stuff that a float rider tried to throw directly at me. People are ruthless when it comes to those made-in-China things. Except they don’t like the “old school” ones. My gain, because I liked them and thus got A LOT of them. The typical metallic, jewel-toned ones are OK, but I liked the older, short-stringed, clear plastic ones from (I was told) about twenty years ago. Also coveted are large beads and differently shaped (not round) beads, and I managed a few strings of those as well – including a long string of half-inch diameter, disco-ball faceted gold beads. Hey folks, there’s a hierarchy to these things. I have plenty of typical beads I’m going to mail to my grandmother for the younger cousins. But I’m stingy and I’m keeping ALL the old ones, so there!

I actually have my friend/attendant Erika to thank for my treasure trove. She waved and pointed and yelled and leaped over me to get a lot of this stuff. And to prove I’m not completely stingy, you’ll be glad to know I actually shared my old beads with her because she and I apparently were the only ones in our section of street who appreciated their retro value.

The floats were incredible in their detail and imagination. Endymion’s theme this year was “Magical Menagerie,” and there were centaurs and satyrs and Sirens, oh my. And I forgot my freaking camera . . . . I did manage (again, thanks to Erika) a dubloon and a cup with the krewe logo, theme, and date on them. Great keepsakes.

Oh yeah, and a plastic crawfish key chain. Priceless.

Yeah, I'm pretty much Mardi Gras-ed out. It literally took me three hours to get home Saturday night on the bus because of all the freakin' vacationers taking the buses. On the first leg, two buses passed Erika and me because they were "full" and didn't want to pick up the bulky wheelchair. When the third bus came, Erika said, "Look lady. My friend is freezing, she's gonna get sick if she stays out here any longer, and this is the ONLY way she has to get home since there are no wheelchair-accessible cabs in this city. PLEASE let her on." All the passengers started making room while the bus driver was saying no. Made her look like a total butt-munch, so she let me on. I was chilled to the bone by the time I finally got home -- cranked my thermostat to 80 for half an hour. Crazy thing is that the air temp really wasn't that cold (in the 50s), but with all the surrounding water and the breeze, it was chilly, especially on my old, arthritic knee.

And no, I didn’t see any flashers. We stayed away from Canal and St. Charles Streets where all the vacationers hang. We were where all the families were, waiting to see their babies in the marching bands. Speaking of that, one of my favorite bands got really involved with the crowd. They did a bit of song while standing in their nice, not-quite-straight lines, then they started moving around in random dancing. After a bit of that, they played instruments with one hand and grabbed onlookers with the other, pulling them into the street to dance with them. No wonder they had so many beads!

As a by-product of trying to find a route for an earlier parade which I didn’t make it to, I discovered a bunch of eating establishments I want to try within walking distance of the Elysian Fields bus into the Quarter as well as some shops I want to check out. However, I’m not going anywhere near the Quarter while those crazy tourists are here.

Let Yourself by Ralph Marston

Go ahead. Let yourself enjoy the beautiful world around you. Stop fighting life and start flowing with it. Let yourself be full of strength and energy. Let yourself be creative. Let yourself enjoy the moments as they come. It will happen if you let it.

Your own fears and doubts hold you back more than anything else. Your own anger keeps you imprisoned. Your own limiting thoughts conceal an abundance of possibilities. Your worries drain the joy from each moment. Let go of them.

Is that irresponsible? No. The most responsible thing you can do is to live up to your incredible potential. Yes, there are plenty of very real problems in the world. But you don't have to give them any more power than they already have. Let yourself be joyful in spite of them, and your life will be a positive force. Let yourself really live.

Sun and Contemplation

My pal Melissa came over today after her class, and we enjoyed a lovely Friday afternoon in South Louisiana. We took advantage of the abundant sunshine and temp in the 70s (not bragging, really ::grin::) and walked to the Chinese Tea Garden for lunch. We walked lazy residential streets most of the way, avoiding the horrendously bumpy sidewalks and lack of curb-cuts. The CTG was the first Chinese restaurant I've ever entered that the proprietors didn't instantly freak about my dog. Amazing. Melissa and I gorged, making plans to make our own crab rangoons very soon, and then headed back. On the way to the restaurant, we had noticed a street that had a median separating opposing traffic (most of the streets in this part of the city are like that) with a sidewalk and curb-cuts. We decided to take that street back. Turned out this median is actually a bike route. I'd like to take this opportunity to say, "I LOVE BIKE ROUTES!!" Curb-cuts, smooth sidewalks -- it's a transplanted gimp's dream in NO!! I looked down at Reba and said we now had an expanded route for evening walks. I probably won't walk it alone until I learn the neighborhood, but Melissa seemed amenable to the occasional walkabout.

On another note, it's been four years ago today that Stacy moved on. I've been pretty good today, but I have been rather thoughtful as I usually am this time of year. I never know what my mood is going to be on any given January 21st. I've been totally bummed, I've been happy. My dreams lately have been about enjoying life -- go figure. If anyone knew how to enjoy life, it was my sister. The walk helped to reinforce that. Once we were on the bike path, I was able to examine and enjoy my surroundings without the fear of breaking my damn fool neck. The blue sky, the very first blooms of Spring (yes, Spring -- hard to believe) mixed with the berries of Fall, the parrots starting their nests in the palms along the median of Filmore Street -- it's all about the return of the Light and the abundance of Life. Life truly is an amazing thing, and I'm doing my best to enjoy all of it.

Quiz from a Couple of Friends

You scored as Verbal/Linguistic. You have highly developed auditory skills, enjoy reading and writing and telling stories, and are good at getting your point across. You learn best by saying and hearing words. People like you include poets, authors, speakers, attorneys, politicians, lecturers and teachers. Verbal/Linguistic 93% Intrapersonal 79% Visual/Spatial 75% Interpersonal 64% Logical/Mathematical 54% Musical/Rhythmic 36% Bodily/Kinesthetic 29% The Rogers Indicator of Multiple Intelligences created with QuizFarm.com

The trip back to NO was interesting to say the least. The flights were lacking in the drama they had contained flying home, but once again the crews failed to bring me my chair between flights in Dallas -- irritating in that I had to be pushed between planes, but more irritating in that the jerk-wads lost the knob off my joystick on the flight between ICT and DFW and I didn't know about it until I landed at MSY. Grr. Barney and Chad met me at the airport, and Chad's response to the lost knob was, "Well D---, that settles it. We're getting you the eight ball." Before I had left, he and I attempted to crazy glue said knob onto the rest of the joystick to prevent this, and in the process we speculated as to what could replace it if it were permanently lost. The eight ball won by a unanimous 2-0 vote.

Turns out me calling Barney and asking him to meet me at the airport was ingenious on my part, but not for the reason I had done it. You see, when I had arrived at ICT, my w.c. was in pieces and my mom had to put it all back together. Batteries back into their cases, covers back on cases, everything back on chair. I didn't trust airport personnel at MSY to put it back together since the numbskulls couldn't get it apart to visually verify my non-spillable batteries on the trip out (and that with me sitting there TELLING them what to do), so I asked Barney to come and help. He got Chad to come too, but the chair was assembled and functional when I got off the plane, but the w.c.-accessible shuttle I had arranged wasn't. I wound up having to take the bus home (cheaper but longer). Barney went with me on the bus, and Chad took my suitcase to the lab. He offered to take it to my apartment, and I was tired enough at that point that it never occurred to me to give him my keys to put it in the apartment and then put the KEYS in the lab for B and me to retrieve.

Anyway, so the airport bus goes to downtown NO, and helpful Aura at the airport info desk advised us on where to go from there. Take the airport bus to the end of the route, walk five or six blocks along Canal to North Peters and hop the Elysian Fields bus to campus. Piece of cake, just long. Well, piece of cake once the airport bus driver finally decided to let Reba and me on the bus. No, it wasn't initially a case of not knowing what a service dog is -- he wanted me to muzzle her. Uh, no. So I patiently (admirable on my part, I think, since my back was really starting to kick at this point, I was getting tired, and I had to pee) explained to him what a service dog is, that they don't need to be muzzled, etc., etc., blah blah blah. He was still resistant, so I asked him to get a supervisor on the radio. Fortunately the super on duty that evening was an enlightened woman who knew the ins and outs and told him Reba didn't need to be muzzled. Turns out his damage stemmed from a general fear of dogs. We finally got on the bus, and we were off.

While walking along Canal, I saw some interesting sights. Lots of loitering locals (not all of them prosperous folks), lots of tourists, lots of swank hotels. After crossing an intersection, I caught a whiff of lovely incense, and I immediately stopped to locate the source. Usually incense of that nature indicates an interesting shop or merchant, and this time it was a street merchant selling incense of his own mixing, some fragrance oils, and shell necklaces. He was a delightful man of Caribbean origin, and what I was smelling was actually two incense sticks burning at once. I already had the Nag Champa, so I bought a box of the other Indian kind, and at the last minute I added a bag of his personal mix that had an undertone of cinnamon. Two bucks even. Beautiful.
Hopped the EF bus and was in the final stretch toward home. Along that route, Barney and I discussed all the dining experiences I haven't had in my stay, and we decided a once-a-month lab lunch was in order. I don't think we'll have a hard time talking Hector, Sunil, and Chad into that one.

So, in the end, my plane arrived at 4:10, and I got to my apartment (after stopping at the lab to pick up my suitcase) at 7:55. Needless to say, I slept like a rock Friday night after unpacking everything and popping some ibu.

On a final note, I finally got my Lafayette pics back. They didn't come out as nice as I had hoped, but I'll try to figure out how to post some for ya'll to see.

Winter Wonderland

My friends down South call this ice and snow storm in the early days of 2005 a Winter wonderland, but they just see it on a superficial level. Their whole concept of Winter in the Midwest is a Norman Rockwell painting, but to those of us who grew up here, it’s so much more. For me, the real wonder comes from watching the battle of wills between the ice and the trees.

You don’t really appreciate the individuality of trees until you’ve watched them battle the weight of all that frozen water. Some stand proud and defiant, still reaching for the sky, determined not to give in. They regally wear their sparkling robes of ice, the kings and queens of the Plains. Others lean on their neighbors for support, looking remarkably like drunken friends leaving a bar at closing time. Others merely rest, their heads lolling, and patiently wait for the reinforcing strength of the Sun to return and help them shake off the chill.

Some trees fall victim, losing a limb or even their whole selves in the battle. Some stand broken, utterly defeated. Others remain defiant, arrogantly displaying their war wounds that shine copper from a distance. For some, the loss of limb is a blessing, the ice removing a diseased portion the rest of the body had nursed all Spring and Summer. These trees sigh in relief, knowing the rest of the body will be stronger now.

Where a tree grows in part determines how it copes in this battle with the ice. Country trees, untouched by human hands and able to adapt at will, laugh in the face of the enemy. They are the defiant or the sleepy ones. The city trees, though, constantly trimmed and molded by humans, cannot cope with the ice. They fight, oh how they fight, but their pretty boughs are far too weak to hold out for long. Finally, they begin to give way with moans and shrieks, and at the very end, they have their revenge on the humans. As their limbs fall, they become kamikazes, rending power lines asunder and wrecking havoc on roofs. They plunge the humans into darkness and into the ravages of Winter, forcing them to face the biting wind and the gnawing wet.

As I ride down the interstate, heading for the airplane which will take me South and away from this battlefield, I’m a little sad. For almost all my life, I’ve been a part of this battle. I’ve stood in awe of the ice’s blitzkrieg, I’ve cheered the victorious, I’ve mourned the fallen. I see a redtailed hawk sitting shiva in the top of a broken tree, and my sadness deepens. As I ride, I say a prayer for the fallen and send encouragement to the defiant. I look on in admiration and realize – this really is a Winter wonderland.

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.