On the official Coffee Commuting scale, today's commute was at the bottom of the list. (If you're not sure what I'm talking about: http://fifteenhundredmilessouth.blogspot.com/2016/03/coffee-and-commuting.html) I commute on a four lane highway. Three of them were shut down. I left home in the dark and watched the sun rise sitting parked on the highway.
It's incredibly easy for me to get angry when this happens. I'm not a morning person but I drag myself out of bed as close to 5 am as I can manage just to try to get to work before the worst of the traffic. So, when I hit bad traffic anyway, I'm usually tired, frustrated, and mad. It would appear that everyone else is too. It's not a situation that brings out the best in most of us. Let someone in? No way man, this lane is moving very slightly faster! Too frequently, I have been desperate to switch lanes and annoyed that no one wants to let me but recognize that, not even 10 minutes later (or earlier), I am the person who doesn't want to let someone in in front of me. Needless to say, it's a deeply irritating thing to recognize in yourself.
Apart from all that though, there's something even more important going on. (At least, I believe there is.) Three closed lanes on a four lane highway means there's been a major accident. People have gotten hurt. So while I'm sitting there getting angry that my 20 mile commute is going to take over an hour, I have to forcibly remind myself that someone else's morning has gone far, far worse than mine. I choose then to pray, for the people involved, for the first responders, for the hospital staff that will treat them. (Maybe someday I'll manage to skip the anger and frustration and pray first.) It doesn't make me less frustrated, but it does put my day in perspective. It's just not always perspective that I'm thrilled to have.
Thursday, February 9, 2017
Friday, February 3, 2017
Double Trouble
Sometimes you make a knee jerk decision to run an extra errand and it has long lasting repercussions. Once I did this and got rear ended. More recently, we ended up with an extra cat out of the deal. Maybe I should stop running errands. I'm pretty sure that's the moral of this story.
Okay, now that you're wondering what I'm rambling about... We adopted a kitten! We'd actually been considering it for months and had been looking through pictures of available kittens. None had quite seemed right though. Then, two weeks before Christmas, I decided to run by the pet store to pick up some extra supplies. It was a shelter adoption day but I wasn't worried because we had gone to tons of those and never found an animal we wanted to take home. (I mean, they're always adorable, but none seemed just right.) I bypassed the adoption event and picked up what I needed. Feeling very on top of my schedule for the day, I decided to swing by for a quick look. And there she was, laying on her back in a cage, frantically trying to bat at the Christmas decorations on the table below the kennels. It was probably all over for me in a heartbeat.
It couldn't have been worse timing with me leaving two days later for a conference and a Christmas trip to FL only days after I returned from the work trip but we decided to take the plunge anyway. A few hours (and no more errands) later, we were home with a new kitten and a very, very pissed off MT (our four year old cat). And thus started a trial run for parenthood that we didn't know we had signed up for.
There are the sleepless nights as the two cats chase each other onto the bed, off the bed, and back onto the bed again. There are the early mornings when Kaylee decides to find her loudest toy and start chasing it around the house. There are the sibling fights (we've given up on breaking most of them up). There are the late night trips to the emergency vet. There are the temper tantrums (because, in cat-speak, throwing up on your bed is the equivalent to a full out toddler melt down).
The phrases No! Don't eat that! and What's in your mouth? Spit it out right now! have become as common in our house as they are in my sister's, which is home to three toddlers. It certainly hasn't been anything like we expected and I'm not sure we'd sign up to do it again but the sweet moments are pretty endearing and the cats are slowly (glacially) warming up to each other. We even got them to hold still for one whole photo...
Okay, now that you're wondering what I'm rambling about... We adopted a kitten! We'd actually been considering it for months and had been looking through pictures of available kittens. None had quite seemed right though. Then, two weeks before Christmas, I decided to run by the pet store to pick up some extra supplies. It was a shelter adoption day but I wasn't worried because we had gone to tons of those and never found an animal we wanted to take home. (I mean, they're always adorable, but none seemed just right.) I bypassed the adoption event and picked up what I needed. Feeling very on top of my schedule for the day, I decided to swing by for a quick look. And there she was, laying on her back in a cage, frantically trying to bat at the Christmas decorations on the table below the kennels. It was probably all over for me in a heartbeat.
It couldn't have been worse timing with me leaving two days later for a conference and a Christmas trip to FL only days after I returned from the work trip but we decided to take the plunge anyway. A few hours (and no more errands) later, we were home with a new kitten and a very, very pissed off MT (our four year old cat). And thus started a trial run for parenthood that we didn't know we had signed up for.
There are the sleepless nights as the two cats chase each other onto the bed, off the bed, and back onto the bed again. There are the early mornings when Kaylee decides to find her loudest toy and start chasing it around the house. There are the sibling fights (we've given up on breaking most of them up). There are the late night trips to the emergency vet. There are the temper tantrums (because, in cat-speak, throwing up on your bed is the equivalent to a full out toddler melt down).
The phrases No! Don't eat that! and What's in your mouth? Spit it out right now! have become as common in our house as they are in my sister's, which is home to three toddlers. It certainly hasn't been anything like we expected and I'm not sure we'd sign up to do it again but the sweet moments are pretty endearing and the cats are slowly (glacially) warming up to each other. We even got them to hold still for one whole photo...
Saturday, January 28, 2017
Old Drafts
I don't blog often about my work or my time as a graduate student, though it's certainly a huge part of my life. Graduate school, especially, is a hard experience to characterize if you haven't been there. And if you have been, then you know. Recently though, blogging about some of my experiences has been on my mind.
More and more, a lot of my work has been focused on students. I've been helping both undergraduates and graduates to develop their research ideas into projects, presentations, and papers. Well, hopefully I've been helping.
There's a seemingly universal experience that I had as a student and that I now see in the faces of my own students. It's the look of disappointment, maybe mixed with a little incredulity, that students have when their edited work is handed back to them. I remember it well and it's discomfiting to see on the faces of my own students. It's the look you give when you are sure you put your absolute best work into something and it comes back dripping with corrections.
As a grad student, I usually handled the disappointment by reading the corrections and then not looking at them for a few days. They never looked as bad as I thought after I gave them some time. Now, seeing that look directed at me, I am often tempted to rush in and start apologizing and reassuring. I'm sorry. It's not that bad. You did good work. It just needs a little polishing.
I have to remind myself that those types of silly reassurances aren't necessary. Review is very much part of the scientific process and learning to handle criticism is crucial. Learning how to do this part, the editing, revising, and growing of research, is at least as important as anything you will learn in a class and, I would argue, possibly more so. So I'm learning to bite my tongue, set a deadline, and invite students to bring me their questions if they have any. Maybe someday I'll stop feeling bad about it too but I doubt that day will be anytime soon.
In the meantime, I look back at my Old Drafts file, the folder of previous drafts I keep for each paper I write. I only start a new draft for major changes, not minor corrections, and each paper has somewhere between 30 and 50 old drafts behind it. I feel a little bit less of an impulse to apologize after that because I know that I've never had a paper revision that didn't make it better.
More and more, a lot of my work has been focused on students. I've been helping both undergraduates and graduates to develop their research ideas into projects, presentations, and papers. Well, hopefully I've been helping.
There's a seemingly universal experience that I had as a student and that I now see in the faces of my own students. It's the look of disappointment, maybe mixed with a little incredulity, that students have when their edited work is handed back to them. I remember it well and it's discomfiting to see on the faces of my own students. It's the look you give when you are sure you put your absolute best work into something and it comes back dripping with corrections.
As a grad student, I usually handled the disappointment by reading the corrections and then not looking at them for a few days. They never looked as bad as I thought after I gave them some time. Now, seeing that look directed at me, I am often tempted to rush in and start apologizing and reassuring. I'm sorry. It's not that bad. You did good work. It just needs a little polishing.
I have to remind myself that those types of silly reassurances aren't necessary. Review is very much part of the scientific process and learning to handle criticism is crucial. Learning how to do this part, the editing, revising, and growing of research, is at least as important as anything you will learn in a class and, I would argue, possibly more so. So I'm learning to bite my tongue, set a deadline, and invite students to bring me their questions if they have any. Maybe someday I'll stop feeling bad about it too but I doubt that day will be anytime soon.
In the meantime, I look back at my Old Drafts file, the folder of previous drafts I keep for each paper I write. I only start a new draft for major changes, not minor corrections, and each paper has somewhere between 30 and 50 old drafts behind it. I feel a little bit less of an impulse to apologize after that because I know that I've never had a paper revision that didn't make it better.
Monday, January 16, 2017
The Sick kind of Sick Days
There's this commercial that runs here showing a woman calling in for a sick day to marathon a favorite tv show. Whether she's sick or not, she's definitely enjoying streaming her favorite show. Who doesn't want that? Some days I fantasize about all the things I could be getting done at home if I just took a sick day. But I don't. I don't even take sick days when I'm sick. I work from home.
So this past week was unusual. I took sick days from Wednesday to Friday. I had a good reason for it (and if you want to know more about that, send me an email or message) but, in my heart, I was pretty sure it would be unnecessary. I even sketched out a plan for each day, assuming that I would feel up to doing things. It was a good plan.
Of course, that's not how sick days work when you're really sick. Rather than tackling my very reasonable sounding to do list, I spent most of my time sleeping and, when I was awake, I did exciting things like stare at the walls. It's a lot more interesting than it sounds when you're not feeling well. I thought about reading a book or coloring or doing so many other things that seem to take almost no energy but it turns out that they all took just enough energy.
I'm feeling better now and will be back at work tomorrow but the moral of the story is that sick days are a lot less exciting and fun than you'd think when you're actually sick.
So this past week was unusual. I took sick days from Wednesday to Friday. I had a good reason for it (and if you want to know more about that, send me an email or message) but, in my heart, I was pretty sure it would be unnecessary. I even sketched out a plan for each day, assuming that I would feel up to doing things. It was a good plan.
Of course, that's not how sick days work when you're really sick. Rather than tackling my very reasonable sounding to do list, I spent most of my time sleeping and, when I was awake, I did exciting things like stare at the walls. It's a lot more interesting than it sounds when you're not feeling well. I thought about reading a book or coloring or doing so many other things that seem to take almost no energy but it turns out that they all took just enough energy.
I'm feeling better now and will be back at work tomorrow but the moral of the story is that sick days are a lot less exciting and fun than you'd think when you're actually sick.
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
A less digital December
The four weeks of Advent seemed never-ending to me as a child. Christmas was made so much more magical by the fact that I had to wait forever for it to arrive. (Obviously, I mean literally forever here.) Now the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas seems to evaporate like so much fog as the sun rises. A lot of that has to do with AGU, a huge conference, being in the middle of the month. But a lot of it is just the rush of whatever seems important when you're an adult. And okay, a lot of it really is important- like bills and groceries and exercise and work.
And then other times it's emails and games on the phone and things that might be nice but aren't as important by far as sitting don with friends and family and genuinely spending time with them. In November, before Thanksgiving, I decided to log off email on my phone and give up digital games until Christmas. At the time, I thought I would get so much time back in my life and I was sure that going "digital-light" would uncomplicate my December.
The good news, I guess, is that it didn't complicate it more. The month still seemed to fly by though and I'm not sure I ever had so much more time to do those things that are more important. I still felt rushed and stressed and out of time. So, while I'm not very much for New Year's resolutions, this year I might make one to be more conscious of how I'm spending my time and more mindful of the things that really matter.
My prediction for how long this resolution will last? Maybe a month?
And then other times it's emails and games on the phone and things that might be nice but aren't as important by far as sitting don with friends and family and genuinely spending time with them. In November, before Thanksgiving, I decided to log off email on my phone and give up digital games until Christmas. At the time, I thought I would get so much time back in my life and I was sure that going "digital-light" would uncomplicate my December.
The good news, I guess, is that it didn't complicate it more. The month still seemed to fly by though and I'm not sure I ever had so much more time to do those things that are more important. I still felt rushed and stressed and out of time. So, while I'm not very much for New Year's resolutions, this year I might make one to be more conscious of how I'm spending my time and more mindful of the things that really matter.
My prediction for how long this resolution will last? Maybe a month?
Saturday, December 17, 2016
Surprise Good Things
This week was the Fall 2016 AGU meeting in San Francisco, CA. For anyone not familiar, it's the annual meeting of the American Geophysical Union and it's attended by over 20,000 scientists annually (24k last year). Just about every topic in the very broad Earth Science umbrella is covered and there is no way to see all of it. This year, a conversation that I had months ago with a friend has been on my mind as I move between meetings, talks, and poster sessions. I won't get into the longer conversation we had but, in response to a comment I made, my friend suggested that female role models were less important to me because I had always had them.
Though it took me by surprise, it was an incredibly true assessment. Throughout my growing up, I was surrounded by women (and men) doing awesome things. I was never told (at least, not by my parents) that there was anything that I could not be. Other people suggested it but I was always encouraged to shrug off their comments. Luckily, I am just contrary enough (it's an ingrained personality trait) that the suggestion that I cannot do something will usually spur me on to prove that I can, regardless of wanting to or not. It gets me into trouble sometimes.
On Monday evening, I met a fellow scientist, helicopter and fixed wing pilot. It's an unusual thing and even more unusual that both of us were women. Like all pilots when meeting, we were quickly off an talking. It was surprising and it was exciting. You have to understand the odds here. Women account for only about 5% of all pilots in the United States. Based on FAA statistics, only about 1.3% of all pilots in the US (both men and women) are dual fixed wing and rotorcraft certified. Even if that 1.3% applies to women (it's probably lower), the odds of happening to bump into another female PhD (roughly 1.5% of the population of the US), who is also a pilot with a dual certification were pretty low. We were both incredibly excited. ;-) It mattered in a way that is difficult to describe but deeply exciting.
Our meeting didn't change my belief in my own ability to do science or to fly an airplane or a helicopter but it was still powerful and unique to find someone that I shared so much in common with.
Though it took me by surprise, it was an incredibly true assessment. Throughout my growing up, I was surrounded by women (and men) doing awesome things. I was never told (at least, not by my parents) that there was anything that I could not be. Other people suggested it but I was always encouraged to shrug off their comments. Luckily, I am just contrary enough (it's an ingrained personality trait) that the suggestion that I cannot do something will usually spur me on to prove that I can, regardless of wanting to or not. It gets me into trouble sometimes.
On Monday evening, I met a fellow scientist, helicopter and fixed wing pilot. It's an unusual thing and even more unusual that both of us were women. Like all pilots when meeting, we were quickly off an talking. It was surprising and it was exciting. You have to understand the odds here. Women account for only about 5% of all pilots in the United States. Based on FAA statistics, only about 1.3% of all pilots in the US (both men and women) are dual fixed wing and rotorcraft certified. Even if that 1.3% applies to women (it's probably lower), the odds of happening to bump into another female PhD (roughly 1.5% of the population of the US), who is also a pilot with a dual certification were pretty low. We were both incredibly excited. ;-) It mattered in a way that is difficult to describe but deeply exciting.
Our meeting didn't change my belief in my own ability to do science or to fly an airplane or a helicopter but it was still powerful and unique to find someone that I shared so much in common with.
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
Christmas in Texas
You can take the girl out of the North but it's hard to take the North out of the girl. There are so many things I love about living in Southern states. Okay, mostly Georgia. Whether I'm in Georgia or Texas or Florida though, I still find it hard to get in the Christmas spirit when it's 70 degrees F outside. While "Christmas is still Christmas after all" (name that movie anyone?), I always find myself yearning for snow and for temperatures cold enough for hot cider and hot chocolate and warm clothes.
The day after Thanksgiving, I dutifully put on jeans, sneakers, and a long sleeve shirt, as if it were cool enough to warrant it. A whole group of us headed out to pick trees and drink cider and it was wonderful. As soon as we arrived home though, I swapped out my long sleeve for a t-shirt and my sneakers for flip flops. The house was starting to look Christmas-y and our cat was definitely in the holiday spirit but it still didn't feel quite like Christmas.
Last weekend we headed to San Antonio with close friends for a quick weekend getaway. It was raining and in the 40's or 50's all weekend. I think we were all drenched at one point or another. And it was brilliant. Rain isn't snow but it was cool enough to bundle up as we toured around. Warm beverages were no problem and neither was hot soup. The lights along the river walk were magical as we wandered along. Mass at the cathedral was great (and a well timed Saturday night coincidence), though I've never been to Mass with a mariachi band before. Somewhere between the chill and the friends and the lights and a beautiful Mass, I found a little more Christmas spirit. Even if it was 70 again today.
The day after Thanksgiving, I dutifully put on jeans, sneakers, and a long sleeve shirt, as if it were cool enough to warrant it. A whole group of us headed out to pick trees and drink cider and it was wonderful. As soon as we arrived home though, I swapped out my long sleeve for a t-shirt and my sneakers for flip flops. The house was starting to look Christmas-y and our cat was definitely in the holiday spirit but it still didn't feel quite like Christmas.
Last weekend we headed to San Antonio with close friends for a quick weekend getaway. It was raining and in the 40's or 50's all weekend. I think we were all drenched at one point or another. And it was brilliant. Rain isn't snow but it was cool enough to bundle up as we toured around. Warm beverages were no problem and neither was hot soup. The lights along the river walk were magical as we wandered along. Mass at the cathedral was great (and a well timed Saturday night coincidence), though I've never been to Mass with a mariachi band before. Somewhere between the chill and the friends and the lights and a beautiful Mass, I found a little more Christmas spirit. Even if it was 70 again today.
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