So this weekend I got to go back to being genrally useless and that's been wonderful. I got a bunch of editing done on my novel, and I'm really happy with where it's going. I got to play one of my favorite video games, Team Fortress 2, a lot. There's something deeply satisfying to an all-out brawl with other people from across the world. (Team Fortress 2, for those who don't know, is a first person shooter multiplayer comedy war game. Yeah, you read that right. Probably going to write a post later on why a raging feminist such as myself loves a game where the entire cast of playable characters (with the possible exception of the Pyro) is male.) Exciting things are due to happen in that fandom, including the release of a video concerning the aforementioned mysterious Pyro, so there was that as well.
And then I went after the parsnips and apricots and am gearing up to make an apricot sorbet tomorrow, and had a lot of long walks and started rereading one of my favorite books, Small Gods by Terry Pratchett, which is pretty much a satire of religion and involves god being turned into a tortoise and learning to be a better god.
So yes. A gloriously lazy weekend. Tomorrow I go in and transfer one load of urchins into the lab and check my cultures and perhaps start algal cultures for the young urchins, and then come home and make sorbet which I shall assuredly post about in more detail than you want to know.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Saturday, June 23, 2012
This Is How NOT To Do It.
Even though this has been blogged about by other people already, I wanted to add my voice to the cacophony, because it arrived with perfect timing.
First, a video. Keep your barf bags handy. Bags. Plural.
This is an ad run by the European Union meant to encourage young women (teenage and younger) to be scientists. While a noble goal, (and the rest of the campaign looks absolutely great) I was very disappointed; apparently, I've been doing it wrong!
I spent yesterday in lab in deep shit. Literally. I was moving a batch of sea urchins from one tank to another so I could clean the old tank out and get it ready for a load of urchins being moved out of the lab proper so that another batch could be brought up from the tank room and housed in the lab. (A sort of echinoderm musical chairs.) There were a lot of urchins. Sea urchins eat a lot, and, accordingly, excrete a lot. I don't think I need say more.
In my mind, I was doing them a huge favor by moving them into a new tank with more kelp and more space and less shit. Of course, the urchins thought that some big evil thing was coming to take them to urchin hell and decided to go down fighting. An urchin can stick to damn near anything; the tank walls, the kelp, the strange slimy object in the middle of the tank, the spatula you're using to pry them off of everything else, you...and it takes significant persuasion to get them to let go. Even worse, you can't just grab them and yank unless you really get them by surprise; an urchin is in form and function the illegitimate purple lovechild of a tribble and a porcupine, and can give you world-class splinters.
So there I am, in my nice white labcoat, prying urchins off of the tank walls with my hands and a barbecue spatula, getting slimed up to my armpits, and hoping I'm not freaking them out. Freaked out urchins start to spawn. As soon as someone spawns, everyone's doing it (like a college party), and suddenly the tank's a huge mess of gametes and then there goes all the data from the urchins, because the gametes are the bit everyone wants to study and that can't be done in a tank full of urchin doings.
Accordingly, between prying angry urchins off everything and realizing that this poor labcoat is really going to need a wash, and trying to make sure the worst of the shit is out of the tank, I'm checking to make sure that no one is being publicly indecent in the next tank over and yanking out the urchins that are (hopefully before any of the others notice) and putting them in some other lab's unused tank so they don't crawl off and get stepped on. And that was before I even started to seriously clean the old tank, which was even more exciting. I did this all before lunch. Lunch happened at three. Then I came home and saw this video and laughed my ass off.
I love science, even when things are mucky and hectic (like yesterday). I get to tell stories about it afterward and enjoy the absurdity of the situation. (Two older women, obviously visitors, came by in time to see me rushing across the room, white labcoat covered in urchin shit to the armpits, holding a large barbecue spatula with an even larger urchin on it, kelp in the other hand, saying "Okay okay, I have a new tank for you I have food for you oh GOD DON'T SPAWN." I like to think I bolstered their faith in the humanity of the scientific community...) And I get to do important, useful things, uncovering things that we didn't even know that we didn't know. I love that things don't work out neatly, that there's so much to do and that there's uncertainty in everything. I love it because it's real, because it's something I can go and do things about. And besides, it's hilarious. Just look up the debate on Komodo Dragon prey capture methods.
Science isn't high heels and lipstick and confidently scribbled equations. It's not a fashion shoot. It's not really all that glamourous. I'm pretty sure that the audience this is aimed at knows that; they must at least have done some sort of science class by now, and seen the textbook depictions of scientists. In the end, the ad just winds up being condescending and absurd. It's like the producers sat down and went, "Hey, what do girls like?" "Fashion!" "Sweet, let's put lots of fashion in and just make it science themed." "Brilliant!" and no one called them on it. Their other videos are spectacular, showing female scientists at work and talking about why they love their work. I'm just sorry that they led the campaign off with this absurdity.
(Also sorry for weird formatting--Blogger is being PURE EVIL today and keeps ruining everything!)
(Also sorry for weird formatting--Blogger is being PURE EVIL today and keeps ruining everything!)
Monday, June 18, 2012
Life at home
It has been very interesting going from dormitory life to home life. It's a bit like coming back from a city to live on a farm, only we don't really have enough animals to be an actual farm...
The first thing to greet me when I got home was the bee swarm. It'd taken up residence in a trashcan near the grill, and though it'd been relatively polite so far, my parents called in a beekeeper to take it away. She appeared, and mother and she talked and then Mom found out that there was a beekeeping class in town this summer. So of course I'm enrolled now. This is what I get when I don't have a summer job. We may end up with a beehive.
Yeah. Unlikely to want a job at this rate!
For the rest of the time I've been pottering around in the garden, picking things. It's the beginning of the summer, and it seems like absolutely everything is producing something. The cucumbers are appearing, huge green coils hidden in spiky leaves, and the squash, which are fat green globes, hidden in itchy leaves. The green beans are practically holding the plant up (more itchy leaves), and the lima beans are fruiting for the second time this year. Even the parsnips are coming in! I thought this very irregular indeed, as parsnips are usually something one encounters in winter, but we pulled some up yesterday as long as my forearm. I'd post a picture of them, but my phone isn't sending it to my email, because it is being a rat.
There are also apricots, and potatoes and the tomatoes are looking threatening. As a committed tomato-dreader, I'm worried about that. The parents planted a LOT of tomatoes this year. The potatoes, though, have already reached the end of their broadcast day. We managed to get most of them before the gopher did, but not before a few succumbed to the same pest that caused the Great Famine in Ireland, and we spent the evening picking crunchy potatoes out of the potato salad. The good ones were amazing, though.
And, most importantly, home is very, very quiet. I like that.
The first thing to greet me when I got home was the bee swarm. It'd taken up residence in a trashcan near the grill, and though it'd been relatively polite so far, my parents called in a beekeeper to take it away. She appeared, and mother and she talked and then Mom found out that there was a beekeeping class in town this summer. So of course I'm enrolled now. This is what I get when I don't have a summer job. We may end up with a beehive.
Yeah. Unlikely to want a job at this rate!
For the rest of the time I've been pottering around in the garden, picking things. It's the beginning of the summer, and it seems like absolutely everything is producing something. The cucumbers are appearing, huge green coils hidden in spiky leaves, and the squash, which are fat green globes, hidden in itchy leaves. The green beans are practically holding the plant up (more itchy leaves), and the lima beans are fruiting for the second time this year. Even the parsnips are coming in! I thought this very irregular indeed, as parsnips are usually something one encounters in winter, but we pulled some up yesterday as long as my forearm. I'd post a picture of them, but my phone isn't sending it to my email, because it is being a rat.
There are also apricots, and potatoes and the tomatoes are looking threatening. As a committed tomato-dreader, I'm worried about that. The parents planted a LOT of tomatoes this year. The potatoes, though, have already reached the end of their broadcast day. We managed to get most of them before the gopher did, but not before a few succumbed to the same pest that caused the Great Famine in Ireland, and we spent the evening picking crunchy potatoes out of the potato salad. The good ones were amazing, though.
And, most importantly, home is very, very quiet. I like that.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
FREEEDOOOOM!
Just finished my last final and moved home! I have time for posting again!
But not now. I'm super tired and might just wind up yammering about how I like bugs and grapefruit and anime and video games and then your concept of me as a grown-up would be ruined.
So I'm just gonna get off the internet now.
But not now. I'm super tired and might just wind up yammering about how I like bugs and grapefruit and anime and video games and then your concept of me as a grown-up would be ruined.
So I'm just gonna get off the internet now.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Bullying
I've been torn over whether to post this for a while. A few weeks ago, I had what can only be described as a break-up with a long term friend over politics--namely, human rights. You see, this person saw fit to praise a teacher who had posted about gay marriage, comparing it to theft and murder. Yes, a teacher. A high school teacher. We're all reasonably intelligent beings so I assume I needn't elaborate on the hostility of that classroom to anyone who doesn't fall within the 'acceptable' gender or sexual orientation parameters.
I hesitated over writing about this because I didn't want to a) make things worse, or b) shove my privileged heterosexual, only-possibly-gender-queer nose into this and pretend like I had enough personal experience to charge to the rescue when there are a LOT of people far better experienced and qualified than I.
I came to the conclusion that I really didn't give a damn if it made things worse, because this person has lost all of my respect and the issue was driving me crazy. I overcame the second hesitation because I realized that I did have some pertinent experience. Namely, being bullied.
Elementary school sucked with a purple passion. A number of my peers decided that bullying the outspoken, nerdy girl for being Chinese would be really fun, and no one bothered to disabuse them of this notion for four years. They were smart enough to realize that any physical harm would get them in a lot of trouble, but that didn't stop them from getting creative. My picture on the board in the classroom got its eyes poked out, the whisper of 'chink' followed me everywhere, and I couldn't present or answer questions in class without someone interrupting or laughing at me. I'd be taunted with such gems as, "You're pretty. Pretty ugly," and the school counselor only told me that I needed to learn to be more flexible and that I needed to ignore the bullies and not retaliate. No one else did anything about it, not until my parents went to the superintendent and got nasty. To this day, my mother wouldn't tell me what they said, but things got a little more tolerable in sixth grade, and I went to a private school in seventh, which was wonderful and made all of the previous bullying unimportant.
I came out of it well, I think. I'm still not comfortable around 'popular' people, especially rich people, because that was what most of my bullies were like. I still retaliate viciously when I'm insulted or picked on or think that I am, because I feel that I can't let anyone get away with hurting me again or it'll never stop and elementary school will happen again. I have trouble trusting people. But I like myself, I like my life, and I do still have good friends. I have no sense of just waiting for someone to turn on me anymore, and for the most part, I don't remember or think about most of what happened--there are more interesting things in the present.
The reason that I'm not a wreck is my family. My mother and father were incredibly supportive, and did everything they could for me. They made it clear that the bullies were the bad guys, that I didn't deserve what I was going through, and that things would get better. And they were right.
Now imagine what it would be like to go through that without the support of a family. Imagine being told by people you trust, your mother, your father, your pastor, that you deserve that because you're a boy who's just realized he prefers other guys, or because she's found she isn't a guy in the first place. Or a girl who isn't interested in other girls or is actually a guy in the wrong body. Imagine what it's like being told from all angles either, "You're horrible because of who you are," or "We love you, but you're a bad person for what you feel and you're going to hell." (Translation: You deserve to be bullied. Or, to the bullies: This person is a bad person. The latter isn't tacit encouragement, but it just makes it that much easier).
At least half of the young people in this country who identify as other than cis-gendered or heterosexual will contemplate suicide. Far, far too many will follow through.
Every time you say that being gay or trans or otherwise different is an abomination, no matter how throughly you wrap it in 'Oh, I love you, but you're a sinner', you make it that much easier for the bully, and that much harder for the victim to get help. You're like the person that told me that it was my fault for not being 'flexible' enough. You make it their fault that they're being hurt. And that is sick. You're as guilty of bullying as the person who hurls insults or blows.
I do not tolerate bullies.
(It's late and I'm tired, but I'm considering doing a follow-up post about this, listing the 'arguments' that I got thrown at me for people who haven't had the misfortune to run across one of these bullies before. Anyone interested--would that be helpful?)
(Upon getting feedback, I realize I neglected the role of microaggressions--things that aren't meant cruelly but are still hurtful. Here's a site with a lot of examples of them: http://www.microaggressions.com/)
I hesitated over writing about this because I didn't want to a) make things worse, or b) shove my privileged heterosexual, only-possibly-gender-queer nose into this and pretend like I had enough personal experience to charge to the rescue when there are a LOT of people far better experienced and qualified than I.
I came to the conclusion that I really didn't give a damn if it made things worse, because this person has lost all of my respect and the issue was driving me crazy. I overcame the second hesitation because I realized that I did have some pertinent experience. Namely, being bullied.
Elementary school sucked with a purple passion. A number of my peers decided that bullying the outspoken, nerdy girl for being Chinese would be really fun, and no one bothered to disabuse them of this notion for four years. They were smart enough to realize that any physical harm would get them in a lot of trouble, but that didn't stop them from getting creative. My picture on the board in the classroom got its eyes poked out, the whisper of 'chink' followed me everywhere, and I couldn't present or answer questions in class without someone interrupting or laughing at me. I'd be taunted with such gems as, "You're pretty. Pretty ugly," and the school counselor only told me that I needed to learn to be more flexible and that I needed to ignore the bullies and not retaliate. No one else did anything about it, not until my parents went to the superintendent and got nasty. To this day, my mother wouldn't tell me what they said, but things got a little more tolerable in sixth grade, and I went to a private school in seventh, which was wonderful and made all of the previous bullying unimportant.
I came out of it well, I think. I'm still not comfortable around 'popular' people, especially rich people, because that was what most of my bullies were like. I still retaliate viciously when I'm insulted or picked on or think that I am, because I feel that I can't let anyone get away with hurting me again or it'll never stop and elementary school will happen again. I have trouble trusting people. But I like myself, I like my life, and I do still have good friends. I have no sense of just waiting for someone to turn on me anymore, and for the most part, I don't remember or think about most of what happened--there are more interesting things in the present.
The reason that I'm not a wreck is my family. My mother and father were incredibly supportive, and did everything they could for me. They made it clear that the bullies were the bad guys, that I didn't deserve what I was going through, and that things would get better. And they were right.
Now imagine what it would be like to go through that without the support of a family. Imagine being told by people you trust, your mother, your father, your pastor, that you deserve that because you're a boy who's just realized he prefers other guys, or because she's found she isn't a guy in the first place. Or a girl who isn't interested in other girls or is actually a guy in the wrong body. Imagine what it's like being told from all angles either, "You're horrible because of who you are," or "We love you, but you're a bad person for what you feel and you're going to hell." (Translation: You deserve to be bullied. Or, to the bullies: This person is a bad person. The latter isn't tacit encouragement, but it just makes it that much easier).
At least half of the young people in this country who identify as other than cis-gendered or heterosexual will contemplate suicide. Far, far too many will follow through.
Every time you say that being gay or trans or otherwise different is an abomination, no matter how throughly you wrap it in 'Oh, I love you, but you're a sinner', you make it that much easier for the bully, and that much harder for the victim to get help. You're like the person that told me that it was my fault for not being 'flexible' enough. You make it their fault that they're being hurt. And that is sick. You're as guilty of bullying as the person who hurls insults or blows.
I do not tolerate bullies.
(It's late and I'm tired, but I'm considering doing a follow-up post about this, listing the 'arguments' that I got thrown at me for people who haven't had the misfortune to run across one of these bullies before. Anyone interested--would that be helpful?)
(Upon getting feedback, I realize I neglected the role of microaggressions--things that aren't meant cruelly but are still hurtful. Here's a site with a lot of examples of them: http://www.microaggressions.com/)
Monday, June 4, 2012
It's almost time for FINALS!
And so I may not be posting as regularly as I'd like. I'm a bit ahead of things now but my schedule's already rather hellish. Eeugh.
I had a rotten weekend. I wasn't able to sleep Friday night because of someone banging on my wall, my stomach decided it didn't like me (again--this happens with great frequency) and then Saturday night a bunch of the more idiotic first-years decided to smoke pot in my bathroom. Suffice it to say that I did not enjoy it and wound up going home, where, out of sheer exhaustion, I slammed my finger in a door.
Left index, if anyone is interested, and it's usable.
And then I found out I was getting to do finals instead of a writers' conference, because someone decided to hold it at a hotel which was booked for the week that the conference was usually held. Though I'm not sure I could have gone anyway; I am not, after all, made of money. (It always struck me as a little off that it was held at a ritzy hotel. There is a university with cheap housing and food and lots of conference space available even closer to the airport...)
So yes, I'm grumpy. Oh well. Time to go and study for finals. *sigh*
I had a rotten weekend. I wasn't able to sleep Friday night because of someone banging on my wall, my stomach decided it didn't like me (again--this happens with great frequency) and then Saturday night a bunch of the more idiotic first-years decided to smoke pot in my bathroom. Suffice it to say that I did not enjoy it and wound up going home, where, out of sheer exhaustion, I slammed my finger in a door.
Left index, if anyone is interested, and it's usable.
And then I found out I was getting to do finals instead of a writers' conference, because someone decided to hold it at a hotel which was booked for the week that the conference was usually held. Though I'm not sure I could have gone anyway; I am not, after all, made of money. (It always struck me as a little off that it was held at a ritzy hotel. There is a university with cheap housing and food and lots of conference space available even closer to the airport...)
So yes, I'm grumpy. Oh well. Time to go and study for finals. *sigh*
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