Thursday, September 29, 2005

family suga'

I'm sick. I hate being sick. Yesterday, I was told that a fever helps fight the viruses plaguing my poor body. So I decided to forgo the tylenol and let my natural immune responses flow all the while chanting, "Go body, Go!". By 7pm I thought I was going to die. My fever had gotten to 102, which Raul quickly prompted, "Take your medicine". And I did. I hadn't eaten, felt too nauseated. I hadn't been drinking enough fluids, my throat hurt too much. And so I just layed in bed and moaned every once in a while. Then my door bell rang and there stood a little man holding some grocery goods: Pepto (for my belly), soup, a sandwich, ginger ale, and POPSICLES!!!! Jenn and Raul called up the corner grocer and had them deliver all their love. It was so sweet and I immediately felt better.

That's the thing about New York. You can get almost anything delivered at any time. And that's the thing about family. Even boroughs away, they can still nuture you back to health.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

on colds and friendship

Mr. Scientist wants to be friends. And truthfully, I am grateful for the gesture. It makes the hurt a little less and our fling feel more meaningful. But it’s something I have to consider a while longer. I’m not in the habit of maintaining friends with guys I’ve dated. It just feels too weird – too many left over emotions just hanging around.

But I have to ask, why friendship? I just don’t get it. The last guy I dated was the same way after we broke up. In some ways, he fought me tooth and nail for my friendship and now, we’re actually good friends. But why does it hurt more when I withhold my friendship than the actual breakup? It’s so strange to me.

In truth, Mr Scientist and I only dated for a couple months and I doubt any strong emotional ties really formed. In this way, I think friendship is a possibility. But for now, while I still harbor a bit of anger and hurt, I wait. The worst is repeated history because while the first time is an experience, the second and third become more painful mistakes. I just don’t want any left over emotions getting in the way of a real friendship - if that is a true possibility.

So that’s my answer. Like all things, we wait and see. I will admit though, it was nice chatting with him in our limited ways of communication yesterday. He does have a way of making me laugh.

But now on to my complaints. I’m getting sick. Sore throat. Hot and cold chills. Headache. Achy joints and muscles. Okay. Maybe I am sick and getting worse. I’m sitting here at school debating whether I should go home and ditch my last five hours of classes and cancel my 6:30 appointment. I just want to crawl into bed with some hot soup and rent sappy movies…

Friday, September 23, 2005

a summer fling with a scientist

My summer fling officially ended at 10pm last night. It was only fitting that this 'break up' fall on the first day of autumn. And can you believe I never once mentioned it? It seems unfair somehow as if I kept some of my juiciest secrets to myself, but he was an avid reader of this silly blog of mine and I felt compelled to keep mum. Fortunately, I no longer feel so compelled. Unfortunately, I can't really think of any juicy stories to tell. The really odd thing about the whole affair was that he was a guy I went to highschool with, but can't really remember ever having a conversation with. And if anyone told us then that we would be dating almost seven years later, we'd probably say "who's that?" Just goshing. I remember a tall, skinny, goofy kid who often made jokes in class - whether funny or not. It was as if he simply couldn't help himself. Same guy only seven years older and not as goofy.

But for those who may intend on dating a future scientist - two stories for "warning" or amusement:

The first time we kissed, we played that silly game of "well, I can give you a ride to your car which happens to be parked half a block away and maybe spend the next two hours just talking, as we sit in my car which will now be parked right next to yours" - you know, that sort of thing. And when my kiss hadn't yet arrived by 1:30 am, I was forced to ask for it. Of course I got the whole, "I'm sorry - I've never been good at reading signs and I thought I saw the signs, but told myself that I wasn't good at reading signs and so, I didn't make any moves..." By 2:00 am, I had to ask for it again, but this time was successful. Lab guys are good at reading the most minute details of an HIV cell, but not so great at reading women. In truth, I thought the whole thing was kind of cute.

Ok, but don't expect to get swept away by romance and poetry. I remember the one time I asked him if he thought I was fat, I got a "ummm, not so much". Silence. What does that mean? So you think I'm chubby? Of course there's backtracking of sorts. "No I mean I don't THINK about you being fat so much." Oh. Well do you think I'm even pretty? "Of course! What you think I'm dating you for your personality?" Ahh, I see and for his sake, I ended the conversation. Again, lab guys...when it comes to reading or perhaps, wooing women all I can say is - "Ummm, not so much".

It was a fun summer fling nonetheless though admittedly very frustrating at times. I was a bit sad to say goodbye, but summer is over and there's a new season to attend to...

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Dreams I should have followed

In college, I took a physics class for students not majoring in the "hard" sciences. Our first lab pretty much went like this: Four of us stood around with our science goggles, one with a tape measure, another with a pad and paper, and a third with a ball. That was me. I think the fourth person was there for moral support. I tossed the ball. Four heads went up and watched its trajectory. And in unison we all said, "gravity!" That was my kind of physics. Sad, but true. I got the top grade in the class, but I'm not convinced that really says much of anything. I just like to mention whenever it is I come out on top since it so rarely happens these days.

Like today. I have never been so lost in my doctorate career thus far. Terms were being thrown around: sigma j, beta i, full models, restricted models, error this, error that and then Magic! That's how my professor ended stats class. After solving some formula taught at the beginning of the semester and relating it to a formula we learned today, he turned around with bright eyes and said, "It's almost like magic since it fits so nicely together!" All we saw were symbols upon symbols, and crossed out variables, and squared roots of squares (which yes, I realize is just the number...), but still, it was aweful. Truthfully, I believed him. I think it is some kind of magic but I have a feeling he won't like that answer on our next exam.

But this I have to throw aside because I've now shifted my focus on another statistical dilema. One that relates to the paper that was accepted for publication, which I should have first stated - pending revisions. They are not major revisions, mostly problems with wording and organization, but one reviewer had questions regarding my analyses. Unfortunately, my data set is misbehaving at the moment and has decided to do away with some of my important variables. But enough about things that make even my eyes glaze over.

I'm off to go read up on the clinical implications of testing regarding executive functioning...damn, when I was in highschool, I had dreams of becoming an American Gladiator.

struggles of my day

Break time in a too long lecture in statistics. My brain just hiccupped. I have no clue what's going on today. Oops, I think it just hiccupped again. There are just some brains not meant for this kind of thinking.

Monday, September 19, 2005

random meetings with the X

Yesterday, I ran into Tomur. I was about to jump on the subway when he came up to me with a sort of awkward greeting – as if he was not really sure if he should say hello but almost compelled to since it’s really been years and years. Tomur was the guy I’d like to believe every girl had in her past. The one that broke your heart, the one every part of you knew you shouldn’t be dating but did anyway, the one that you either look back on with complete regret or in amusement as you think about how ‘silly’ and ‘young’ you were.

It’s funny. There was a time when I envisioned this chance encounter, maybe almost hoped for it. In it, I would look absolutely gorgeous and my life would be in perfect order. All this, I would throw into his face. And time would just slow down for him as he thought about what a giant ass he had been for hurting me. Needless to say, it didn’t happen that way. Instead, I met him un-showered, having spent an entire day walking around New York’s hot city and my life – well in perfect disarray. And in the subway ride from midtown to the upper west side, we chatted about the past six years. And when my stop came, I smiled, said a quick goodbye, jumped out of the train, and it was over. It’s funny how many transformations your heart can take. In the end, he was just a fun story to tell a friend that started with a – hey you’ll never guess who I just ran into...

Since then, there have been other men, other chance encounters and so forth. With every dating experience you hope that it becomes like this one - something you learn from and grow past. It would have sucked to have met Tomur and to realize that life hadn't really changed all that much for me or that the same dysfunctions I was dealing with then permeated my life today. I'd like to think that my dysfunctions are more developed today.

Friday, September 16, 2005

spider nightmares

2 am. I got out of bed. I have no idea why. I walked over to the door, touched the knob, turned around, crawled right back into bed. But as I sat there adjusting the sheets, I noticed a giant spider on the wall next to me. The spider was the size of my hand. I jumped out of bed, twisted my ankle, and virtually fell fully body on the floor. But the pain had to wait and I scrambled safely to the other side of the room. As I stood there, panting, bruised but safe...I got to thinking. How did such a big spider get into the house? Are there really spiders that big in Brooklyn? It looked like a Tarantula. Was it a Tarantula? And then, wait, am I still sleeping? Logic slowly crept its way back into my reality, but fear was still pervasive. I turned on the light, checked the sheets, looked under the bed, and cautiously went to sleep making sure that I lay as far from the wall as possible.

This morning Raul looked at me and commented, "I thought a tree had fallen on the house"

Thursday, September 15, 2005

last night's musings

I am exhausted and yet can't really afford to be. I have another long day ahead of me that pretty much started at 7 this morning. These nine-nine days at school are killing me and the only thing I keep thinking about is: coffee. And for that one giant anti-coffee monger who might be reading this and rolling his anti-coffee eyes, put it somewhere not nice nor comfortable. I'm tired.

Okay, I have a confession though. Part of this exhaustion is not soley due to work or school. I went to the Jack Johnson concert last night. And while the show was good, the people watching was even more spectacular. I watched one guy run over to another and grab his fluffy hair and scream, "I want to nap in it!" And somewhere in the middle of Jack's set, four high school girls managed to stumble in front of me - completely stoned, completely drunk - and dance all over people's belongings. I wanted to smack them. But the best came when two guys came over to work their "magic". Let's face it though - men rarely have any real magic. These girls tightened up their little dancing circle - kind of like sheep do when wolves attack (did I make this up?) and then it was over. The guys walked away with beers in hand and slightly redder than when they first came.

blah, blah, blah - I've made one decision though. I'm not much of a concert goer and attend by invitation only. But I've decided never to buy lawn seats again. As amusing as they can be, the high school girls annoy me and truthfully, I felt like I was at a giant drive-in movie where I had to stand for two hours.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Family

My mother called me this morning to update me on my love life. Yes, to update ME on MY lovelife. Apparently, this man's parents (the one who my mother wanted to set me up with a couple weeks ago, the one who lives in Korea) are really excited about the prospects of our marriage. In my 14 year old whine, I said, "mom, you said I didn't have to marry him!" Previously, she told me that she wasn't going to pursue this meeting because he wants to marry right away. And I guess the 'reality' of my getting married and moving to Korea frightened her - but obviously not enough. As she kept persuading me to send one picture, make one phone, etc - my sister could be heard in the background, "Mom, I think it's a good idea!" She laughed. I flashed her my fifth grade poison dart look.

Family.

I moved back to the East Coast for school, but truthfully I wanted to be closer to my family. I certainly am. And despite all the craziness it brings to be back within my mother's reach and to be within such close proximity to my family, I love it. We have our ups and downs. For instance, tonight, on our ten minute walk to the movie theater, Jenn and I managed to get into a shouting match on the street. For those dining out on Court Street, we provided the best entertainment and the start of a potentially intriguing conversation with: "You can be so dark and manipulative at times!", "On an unconcious level, you know exactly how to attack people at the most sensitive areas", "Must you always paint people in such extreme black and white terms?", "You never really allow enough room for a real apology!" And then, just as quickly as the shouting began so did the laughter. My sister called a truce and I couldn't help but giggle. I looked at her and asked if she noticed the homeless man pointing and laughing at us. We've never been a family to hold grudges. In fact, I would say nine out of ten fights with my brother ended with an, "hey, wanna grab a beer?" or maybe at that time, my favorite, "let's pray". Regardless, tempers flair but love prevailed. Cheese. I know. I'm so tired I can't even tell if it makes sense.

I've had two days off and while I've managed to do some work here and there, I've never felt so tired. It's time for bed and to prepare myself for an incredibly long day tomorrow. But before I leave, I just want to say -

My first study was just accepted for publication! It will be my first, first authorship. Exciting times for an academic and probably not much for others. Ok, bedtime.

Friday, September 09, 2005

the trials of an 8 month child

It's amazing how fast little men can grow. Since school has started, my days begin around nine and don't often end till after 8. And somewhere in between, my nephew gets a little older. This morning I had a little break in my day and decided to poke my head into his room. And there was my angel sitting in his crib. As soon as he saw me, he reaches out for the rail and pulls himself up. Amazing. Simply amazing. I think I have that effect on people - to push them to greatness.

However, he still has yet to master the art of crawling. I on the other hand have been particularly adept in this skill for quite some time now and realize that I forget how hard it really is when first starting out. But I think he's getting there.

He begins. (Isn't this the cutest face? We often tell him how unfair it is for him to have stolen so much cuteness. Truthfully, who needs crawling when you can just flash a smile and be picked up and taken wherever...kidding.) So we begin.

notice the strain...

but he's almost there

and with one giant scream, he moves!

Now we just have to get him to move foward.

Afterwards, I picked up my pumpkin and together, we danced the rest of the morning away. Well, until nap time. We are the perfect dancing team.

Monday, September 05, 2005

labor day bbq

So Hunie and I had our little labor day bbq - made complete with an assortment of friends, food, drinks and a hookah with rose flavored tobacco. And oh - I finally met Mr 1A, the man whose apt never fails to wreak of pot no matter what time of day I walk by his door. Before he even told me, I knew by the look in his eyes and the way he introduced himself to me, "hey, want some weed?" But alas, I was too busy with the "bottle" and now I have a massive headache. No more writing for me, but here's a few snipets of the day:

smoking the hookah. (I know - random).


Melissa and Courtney (Hunie and I worked on different pieces of BBQ planning. Courtney pretty much pulled it all together. I always feel guilty when a guest ends up doing more work than she should. She rocked my world today.)


Gracie and Hunie frying my burgers. Yes, Frying! Oh the shame.


I hate the stupid "grill" he bought.


But I think we all had fun anyway...

a bit more about those experiences

There is something truly beautiful about both the spiritual and cultural traditions in Judaism. The religion I grew up with (some bizaar mix of an evangelical/presbyterian/Korean world) didn't really have that. Early on, I was swept away by the festivities of the night. The groom dancing out in an entourage of friends and family to greet his wife before the ceremonies. The bride walking around the groom seven times in a promise of love and support. And the blessings sung to the happy couple thoughout the night. And people danced, surrounding the bride and the groom in giant circles and occasionaly, they would be lifted unto chairs and celebrated around the room. The night was filled with perfect moments of bliss...

Saturday, September 03, 2005

head banger

Last night, Hammee saw her thirty year old self in the mirror. Now a wife and a mother and also trying to create a new life in Korea, she wrote that for the first time, she looked different from the face she remembered. Her words were different - older. tired, and reflective. No one ever expected this transition to be easy for her but we always hoped nevertheless.

I, on the hand, must be losing my mind - as evidenced by my slightly swollen left eye and minor, but very noticable cut on the eyelid. Again, I banged my head into an open cabinet door. And that was even more excruciating than the head banging experience I had earlier this week. I need to wear a freaking helmet.