this is my life as a...grad student

Lake Arrowhead weekend

2009-04-06T08:23:00.000-07:00

Sage's mom just re-did her cabin on the lake so we decided to escape the city and head up there. It was so super nice with a fantastic view of the lake from her deck. His mom, sister and cousin joined us on Saturday. It was Bill's first mountain trip too and we had plans to do some hiking along Deep Creek.

Saturday we hung out with Sage's old band-mates. All of them had dogs and band practice was on this sprawling hillside property, essentially a dog's playground, so Bill got to run free the whole time. The weather was clear and crisp, a nice change from SD lately. We decided to get up there a few times each month to enjoy the fresh air (and so sage could play guitar; his old mates are pressing him to join their band but he may just be an occasional guest appearance). Sunday we hiked Deep Creek, but not the nice groomed trail we did last spring. Sage wanted to show Bill and I a pool he used to hang out at but it involved some bushwhacking. We thrashed through brush and crawled over felled, burned trees. We even found what looked like a small human's leg bones under one such tree. It was not really my dream hike and Bill was having trouble with the terrain. We bailed and found the road. But Sage was determined so we tried another part of the creek. Although brush free, it consisted of steep rock walls along the creek that we had to scale at times, a difficult task with a new puppy. Bill was definitely hesitant about the whole thing and we ended up turning back before the pool. It was beautiful though, and Sage got to show off his bridge skills (which ended with him knee deep in the icy creek).

Later we met the band-mates at the ball field/dog park. Mountain dog park culture is not the same as here. There are no regulars and dogs aren't actually supposed to be off-leash, although they all are. Also, there was a bagpiper playing. After a mexican lunch with Steve and Liz, we hit the road. Bill was finally tired out and accepted his job as the backseat passenger with minor complaints. Here he is trying to stay awake but falling asleep while sitting up in his S&M style car harness we torture him with.

We got home by 6pm and cleaned up. To my absolute horror, I discovered a large black tic engorging himself in my back. His head was way in there and it hurt. I had thought it was a sunburn because of the radiating burning pain I had been experiencing since noon, although in hindsight my back had never been exposed to the sun. We burned his butt and he mostly backed out but left one of his suckers in there. I am awaiting a doctor's appointment now to finish the job. Weirdly, Bill has not one critter on him.

Weekending with Bill

2009-03-03T14:13:00.001-08:00

Last weekend we spent hours each day at Fiesta Island dog park with Bill. He loved running through the tall grass but was less sure about the water at the shoreline.

He finally gave up trying to get in the water (or get us out) and just sat forlornly. Still, each day he was tired out enough to be cooperative about wearing his car harness. It has become an essential tool for keeping me on the road!

WARNING: more gratuitous puppy shots under the guise of my birthday

2009-02-24T11:23:00.000-08:00

My 34th birthday weekend commenced with an impromptu viewing of Don Quichote (french responsible for weird spelling) at the opera downtown with Jane, my lovely date. During the first act, and to the incessant crinkle of lozenge wrappers being furiously opened by the octogenarian in the seat next to me, I decided that opera is just not for me. This was my third opera (as long as we are not counting Phantom...did I hear a groan?) and although it was a decent show, I could not stifle my yawning once the music started. It must be a physiological reaction to long drawn out singing in a romance language. I have to say though that the scenery was amazing (especially the windmill/giants in Act II) and you can never beat the people watching at an opera. Another highlight was Jane informing me in response to the TB-like cough next to me, that sputum cultures are absolutely inappropriate to perform unless there has been exposure to some serious disease. A cough alone just simply does not justify it. Good to know.

Saturday we started the day off by taking Bill to a local Vizsla club where he could socialize with other vizslas and run around on the beach. It was really funny to see 5 identical pups rolling around with each other. And also interesting to see a bunch of adults and talk to their owners. Bill was absolutely knocked out tired afterwards and passed out in his kennel for about 3 hours.

That night we celebrated early with Jake and Jen in LA and some more local folks. We got to hang out with the Bliss baby and I held her for at least 20 minutes without making her cry, quite a feat! Nina made me the most fabulous chocolate raspberry cake, which sage thoroughly kept enjoying through the early morning hours! The night was fantastic...but way too short to catch up with people. It deserves a repeat quite soon!

Sunday we had an exciting day planned. We started with Puppy school where Bill could do some organized play with some other pups and we could learn some basic obedience. Aside from trying to poop twice in the play room, he did great and was the most calm pup there. All the others were barking at each other to play the whole time and Bill just sat calmly at our feet surveying the scene. Apparently he is very calm for his breed, which we are happy about. Barking has got to be my least favorite thing about dogs. He seemed to be a quick learner and can do sit and stand with treats but stand is totally lost on him. He just loses complete interest in the treat when we try that one. But we are going to keep at it and hopefully he will learn more over the next 6 weeks.

After school we took him to dog beach to tire him out before my bday BBQ later that night. He wasn't the only one who got tuckered out though. When everyone was awake we had a few people over for a chicken dinner. Festivities were over by 6:30pm, the perfect time to start relaxing for the end of a Sunday. We needed it! Next weekend we may tackle our taxes.

Battle Scars

2009-02-16T21:05:00.000-08:00

One week ago, Sage and I took the plunge we had been pondering for months and adopted a puppy. We had decided on a Vizsla, a breed I have wanted for years. A smaller version of a Weimaraner, they are known for their calmer temperament. Took us a few days but we finally came up with a name, Bill. The last week has been an adventure to say the least. Although Bill is a quick learner, he still is a puppy and we had jumped into this thinking we would come up with a training plan as we got to know him. We have taught him to sit and come and more or less pee outside but I have had this constant worry in the pit of my stomach every since we got him. Like he came to us this perfect little puppy and our actions have the opportunity to chip away at this perfection day by day. Sleep has evaded me most nights as I check on him every time he shifts in his crate by the bed, wondering if he is happy or his bladder is about to explode.

It has definitely been fun though. Taking him to the dog park and dog beach, watching him play with every single dog he encounters. His charm even inspires the most tired old dogs to playfully hop around with him. Despite his energy outside, at home he is a totally couch potato and loves inserting his body into whatever space he can find between us or just spreading his 24 lb. body out across as much of the couch as possible when sitting alone. Most nights we find ourselves in a 3-some embrace on the couch with small puppy head and legs sticking out in every direction.

Still, it is work and has completely staved off any desire I have had for a real human baby. After a completely sleepless night on V-day (spent arguing with sage about training tactics and checking on the Bill), we groggily dragged ourselves to a local outdoor breakfast joint with doggy in tow. We picked a table next to an older couple with a cute spaniel and Bill and he made googally eyes at each other across the aisle. The couple left and was replaced by a young hip couple with two huge dogs, one a very solid tiger-print pitbull and the other an unusually heavy yellow lab. The pit seemed sort of interested in Bill and his playful sniffing but the enormous lab curled her lip at him and then sat down. In hindsight, I should not have ignored this but at the time I just figured it was an initial dislike that would not amount to anything. The dogs kept shifting around and after 15 minutes I hear a loud snarl and horrifyingly, the desperate yelping of my new perfect puppy. I grabbed him and held him but he was wiggling and crazed and continued to cry hysterically for at least a minute. When we finally calmed him down we found a cut on his lower eyelid and the top of his head. The lab had chomped him and he was lucky he did not lose an eye! At the end of my wits in my sleep deprived state, I started bawling and told sage i was taking him out of teh restaurant. I cradled him in my arms tightly to calm him down b/c he was still shaking and walked to a bench at the other side of the park. Restaurant patrons, park goers who had overheard literally followed me to see if he was ok. Then the cops pulled up and kicked me out of the park which apparently did not allow dogs. Amidst it all I was still crying and surely looked like one of those crazy dog people. I just could not calm down. After I had settled down further away, a homeless man approached and said he had also heard and wanted to check on Bill. He reassured me that motherhood was tough but that Bill would be ok and things would get esaier. Then he gave me the peace sign and strolled away. Sage finally joined me and said we should get him to the ER vet (since it was the weekend) and that the owner of the lab had paid for our breakfast and said he would pay any associated bills.

Once at the vet we found a cut inside Bill's ear and he had developed a bloody nose, which was kind of freaky. The vet did not seem worried and patched him up and checked for eye ulcers and we were on our way. I got a much needed nap while sage hung out with Bill, who seemed completely recovered and was romping around the yard within minutes of being home.

We are finally settling into a groove with the training and I am feeling less nervous about screwing him up. It will just be how it is I suppose. I have the Monks of New Skete guiding my training program and we also start puppy pre-school next saturday where he will be able to socialize with other pups and we will all learn some basic obedience stuff.

I woke up this morning confident that we would have no accidents and i would actually be able to get some writing done at home while he peacefully slept in the kennel. While I was preparing his breakfast, I looked at him on the couch to make sure he wasn't doing anything bad and low and behold he was in the process of drenching the couch in pee! It looks like a fire hose (ok, a tiny fire hose) was let loose in here. Jeez, will it never end?

Holy Buffet

2009-02-02T09:03:00.001-08:00

Most weekends since Sage and I moved in together, we wake up by 8am on Saturday morning and by the time we have breakfast he has come up with a fun activity to do that day or the whole weekend. Whatever the bee in his bonnet is usually requires immediate action. I more or less have accepted this ritual and have resigned to not get anything of my own done (usually writing) during these two days. Two weekends ago as we sat staring at the larger than usual waves coming in over breakfast the idea was sea kayaking. I vetoed this pretty quick, pointing to the waves. Ok then, rock wall climbing. Despite my intense fear of heights, he almost had me on that one, but further discussion revealed my arms were still sore from my last workout, phew. Moving on...the Palomar observatory involving a 2 hr windy drive into the mountains and above the snow line. I was in and it really was beautiful, plus the observatory itself was very interesting. The views of San Gorgonio and San Jacinto were gorgeous! Last weekend he came up with Palm Springs, where I had never been. We literally spent 12 hours there, at one point finding ourselves at the top of San Jacinto (picture to left is view of Jacinto from our motel hottub-clearly his process is linear), and then Sunday morning his bee took us to Joshua Tree and then a drive home alongside the Salton Sea, which has gotta be the most depressing place in southern California. But the rest of the sites were awesome!

This weekend I knew I had to get some work done so I gave him daily warnings starting on Wednesday that I would have to stay in all weekend and write. He complied and Saturday passed uneventfully with him quietly reading on the couch and me crunching data. Sunday we woke up and made breakfast. Truthfully, I was in no mood to work. So when he said he had an idea, I was open. This weekend was a bit different though. He suggested we go to church.

We had been throwing this idea around since he had quit drinking so it was not a new concept. Neither one of us was particularly religious, although both from Irish Catholic families. I have probably been in a church less than 30 times in my life, including ALL weddings and baptisms in my extended family and the requisite visits when touring European countries. Because I had never even been baptized, every visit to a house of god was fraught with insecurity: "do I stand out? am I doing something wrong? how should I be sitting? can they tell I'm a heathen just from my posture?", leaving me with an overall uncomfortable feeling. But the draw for us was finding community and perhaps even a good sermon or two that would allow us to reflect on our collective journey. When we were in Palm Springs the weekend before we had walked past a church service letting out and were a bit touched by the elderly priest tottering around in his green robe bidding farewell to each member of his congregation. It was quaint and peaceful, jiving with most of the churchy memories from my childhood. Recalling that image made going along with Sage's plan easy.

He suggested one we had gone by many times, a big church he described as non-denominational. I am no church-jargon expert and the term "non-denominational" sounded to me like accepting, no pressure, even liberal came to mind. We arrived and the place was packed, the crowd was diverse and most people were dressed very casually (reinforcing my at-ease attitude). We followed the large crowd into the "sanctuary" where the sermon would be. I was shocked! This was no pew-lined quaint little country church. There was stadium seating for 1000 people and lights and cameras all pointing to a huge stage that spanned at least 400 feet across the back wall which itself was covered in blinking digital imagery. There was also a full set of rock band instruments to the side. This was like no church I had ever experienced. Although a bit weird, the non-traditional interior reinforced my idea that I was in a very liberal place.

The band came out and sang a few songs...the members looked like your run-of-the-mill indie rock band (flannel shirts and black thick-rimmed glasses). The lyrics (which appeared above them on the 400 foot screen) were upbeat enough but were all about Jesus and Josanna and following His word. Still, it seemed normal, i mean we were in church. A little Jesus talk comes with the territory. One man a few rows ahead of us stood up the duration of the singing with his arms up and out-stretched and palms open. I thought "oh, that's nice, he probably gets more of the feel of the music like that, sort of like a prayer". I tried to remain as neutral as possible, non-judging, because I really had no idea how sage was taking it all in. For all I knew, he was feeling like he had come home. So I remained open and relaxed, which was surprisingly easy.

Then two guys came out on stage, dressed very trendy, one in a v-neck tee and one of those modern fedora type hats. They did a sort of back and forth comic routine advertising all the teen, young married couple, financial planning etc. support groups sponsored though the church. From the clothing and his jokes about fashion I suspected one of them was gay and I thought "oh, that's nice, this is a church that accepts gays as pastors, very liberal!". I was even more at ease. Then more music and then the real pastor came out, actually he was filling in for the real one who was at home watching the Superbowl. He was disabled and his voice was very distorted by his disability but after a few minutes I could follow him pretty clearly. He was very funny and told a convoluted story about going to Disney land, the pool of Bethesda and his struggle being disabled. Throughout his sermon he said things like "give yourself over to Jesus" and "worship Jesus" and the like. I was feeling open enough to get his meaning without being put off by the language. His message all came together in the end about how life is a choice and you can choose between being bitter and better. It was cool and it definitely spoke to me about some things sage and I had been dealing with lately.

Then more music about His Majesty, with most of the congregation striking the open palm stance with gusto. Then we were let out. We walked to the car in silence, me waiting to gauge how he felt about it before I jumped in with my impressions, just in case he was thinking he would be coming here every Sunday. He finally asked me what I thought and when I said it was an "interesting" experience and I liked the sermon he agreed and admitted the music was horribly cheesy and the Jesus talk was over the top. We talked for over an hour about the experience. Then it came out...Sage informed me that it was a born again church, he thought it had been brutally obvious to me. In fact, he called it a 'Mega-church', a term I had heard often and one that did not necessarily have the most liberal, accepting and pressure-less associations in my mind. I learned later that this church had held one of the biggest rallies supporting Yes on Prop 8, the bill banning gay marriage in California, a bill I had vehemently opposed. I realized I could probably be sure that most of the people sitting around me bopping to the jesus tunes did not see eye to eye with me on most issues (i.e. abortion, pre-marital sex, and yes, even evolution) and that probably after a conversation I would not find them "accepting", let alone liberal.

It was almost laughable that it had not dawned on me the moment I had stepped into the spectacle that was Sanctuary. But I am sort of glad it didn't. Surely if I had gone in knowing the above, I would have been totally uncomfortable, closed, and every "Jesus!" would have made my skin itch and push me closer to a state of self-induced hyper-ventilation. Not having this armor on allowed me to approach the whole experience without expectations and really listen to the sermon. This is NOT to say I am now on the road to follow Jesus. It is quite hard for me to digest all that talk about salvation and worship. I wouldn't be opposed to going back there but would probably get a lot less out of it the next time. It is beside the point anyway. If I was looking for people to agree with my social politics I would likely not even find it in the white steepled churches of my youth, but they were what I knew. It was refreshing to see something different and be able to listen to their lessons without pretense, but also without the internal pressure to conform. Still, I woke up at 2am this morning feeling a bit unsettled that I had let myself open up unknowingly to something I have always felt I could not stomach. But perhaps there is a lesson there...

Sage and I are more or less on the same page and have decided to make this an experiment. On Sundays, when we are not chasing his buzzing bee to some distant corner of California, we are going to attend a service, a different church each time and ignoring any information about the church beforehand, save the time and location of the service. We live in a neighborhood that is certainly not lacking in churches. There is one on every block on some streets with very little denominational overlap.

Sage hopes we can catch a sermon from every existing denomination (Jehovah's witnesses: "they come to my door, why can't I go to there's?") but I have a feeling there are a few that might not let us in. Like that shiny mormon temple on the I-5 or probably most mosques. I realize this plan may sound unacceptable to anyone who takes one religion even remotely seriously. But as a religious outsider, this approach is key for me. The less I know about where I am going, the less I will engage my preconceived notions about that particular religion and the more I will be able to listen and take the sermons at face value and as they speak to me. Hopefully we will find one or two we would like to keep going back to when we feel the need.

San Francisco in the new year

2009-01-14T09:11:00.000-08:00

Sage and I headed up to "Frisco" (as he calls it) to catch a bluegrass show and visit becca and alex and bruno and the fig. We arrived at SFO around 7pm to find our cheap sub-compact rental car was a Prius! It was awesome, except we had no idea how to start the thing. After pressing every button on the dash that seemed intuitive to a 20th century driver, we had to get some assistance. With the unsettled feeling of being 16 again, we pulled our space mobile out of the airport garage and hit the road. Hot Buttered Rum was playing at the Fillmore around 10pm so we had a couple hours to share Cancun burritos with B & A. The place was loud with mexican polka and we were surrounded by the standard SF hipster crowd, all of which gave sage his first realization that we were not in Kansas (SD) anymore. HBR was amazing! Those guys love playing together and it is so much fun to watch. They played a few Talking Heads songs which were great. We were both psyched and despite having woken up early and having full days of work and travel we were able to make it almost to the end of the show. Then we got back in our jetson mobile, ambled through the castro and back to bernal heights by 1:30am.

The next day becca took us for a northern tour through Muir Woods, where we had a lengthy discussion about Werner Hertzog and retaining walls, and then out to the Pine Cone diner in Point Reyes. We discovered two things: 1) that a BLT with avocado is called a BLAT and 2) that ice cream places are closed throughout the region during the month of January.

That night B & A took us to a great 6 table cajun joint in ocean beach where we dined on scallops and hanger steak. Back in BH we got a personalized slide show of their trips to machu picchu (where we are enticed to go in Sept.) and egypt, not to mention almost every food item they had consumed since the summer of 2005. It was spectacularly gooey photography and gave sage an ounce of appreciation for why we are all crazy about food. They also let us in on their new super mario bros. obsession.

The next day we hopped in the space jet and headed to Alcatraz. Luckily, Sage was able to complete his SF tourist wardrobe in the gift shop at the dock on the Embarcadero. (what you cannot see is another alcatraz tee under the sweatshirt.)

Alcatraz was cool. By far, the best audio tour I have ever done. We were immersed in a dark world of antiquated prison life, narrated by both ex guards and ex inmates. Surprisingly they downplayed their most famous guest, Al Capone and focused more on the siege and other escape attempts.

Sage gave his best hardened criminal face. Pretty convincing. We all tried to figure out which criminal we were. Becca and I were the ones who would sit and wait for release, biding our time knitting and reading. Sage was sure he was the escapist type and, while he admitted he would also spend a good deal of time knitting, would be sizing up possible escape routes and fashioning spoons into concrete shovels.

This was the dingy view of the city from the cell block hallway. It is so close that the inmates could hear the voices of people partying on New Years when the wind was right...creepy.

It was a relief getting back to shore and freedom. Those walls have seen way too much for it not to affect visitors. One more mission burrito later (this time from El Farolito), then we said goodbye and pointed our ship back to the airport. It was the perfect weekend getaway and we will certainly be doing it again soon!

Holiday Photos

2008-12-22T08:21:00.000-08:00

At the parent's request for some recent photos we headed to the beach near our house to take a shoot...Here is what we got. The funny thing is that we wanted to have the ocean in the backdrop but since it has been raining here pretty hard the last week, the first 400 feet of ocean is brown. Don't think it is entirely noticeable in these though. It certainly did not stop the surfers that day!

recent pilgrimages

2008-11-24T15:15:00.000-08:00

I wanted to add some recent pics from my travels in CA. Last month I went up to san fran to stay with becca and alex and see my brother who was back from india interviewing for jobs in anticipation of his westward re-location. We got to check out the new national academy of sciences museum in the park which has a rain forest, a coral reef and an albino alligator (among many other things). All pics were taken by scott. Aside from being $25 a ticket and jammed packed, it was a great museum.

This past weekend sage and i finally made it up to burbank to see jake and jen. very serious drive up. we were there almost exactly 24 hours. We lunched at an ok mexican place and then accompanied our hosts to an amazing cactus nursery across the street. it was "mind-bending" as jen likes to say these days. sage called it the raibow garden. he bought me 4 little guys that I have now set up in our kitchen. There were rare cacti there being sold for around $10,000. it was quite a sight! Sage fell in love with the stone plant (Lithops) which feels like puppy paws (when you rub your face around in them, as he discovered). I just found a nursery near SD that may have Lithops too so we are going to take another vegetation field trip soon! On Sunday we hit up the Getty, something I have been meaning to do for years. I was NOT disappointed by the landscape architecture at this place. so much thought went into designing it. incredible. tragically I forgot the camera in the car so no photos there.

The boys with our cacti...

and a few gratuitous dog molestation photos...sorry jake and jen.

had to put this one in of what has been going on at our house lately... I am just grateful that it sounds better than when he plays his actual violin.

now back in ocean beach where the damp cold has set in. we are literally using 2 comforters on the bed these days. summer is over. i got the gas fireplace set up after kicking it a few times and so now we have heat....in one of our rooms anyway. looking forward to our first OB turkey dinner in a few days! wishing you all a little roast bird in your week.

latest request

2008-10-23T16:24:00.000-07:00

Today before I started my lecture, a student pulled me aside and said that since there is so much material in the course and the lectures are so "dry and bland", it would be really helpful to the students who are more visual learners if I could post instructional movies that went over the material instead of just relying on power point slides with pictures and short video clips (which I guess are not considered visual anymore). huh?

but what about the poor students who hate to read?

2008-09-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

My first exam is coming up in the class I am teaching about all the living things in the ocean. Lately I have been getting a ton of complaints about what I am doing wrong, generally masked by statements of how great of a teacher I am and how much they are learning. Granted I did open myself up for this by asking for feedback on why the quiz score average had decreased by 2 points last week. This is one example sent this afternoon (emphasis is mine):

Okay, in terms of how much material there is to cover in class; it's just fine, but you could do a bit more for everyone by slowing down. It's not that the material is confusing, or what you are saying is confusing, it's just that all you have to do is read what is already written down on your power point lecture, where as we are listening and copying down the slide of notes. I abbriviate and don't write every single word. But, I do see most people struggling to write down everything, and combined with the speed at which you are reading it off, it becomes this mix of "confusion" for most of the students.

the student goes on to suggest a new lecture strategy:
when you come to a new slide; instead of reading it right away, give a 30 to 45 second gap to allow us to get a head start on writing down the material, and then slowly ease into it. for each point after that give a 10 second head start. This way we can take down what's important, and then pay more attention to what your saying.

and then how reading should be assigned:
Now, as far as the reading goes, for the first 2 weeks I read everything, but as it didn't start showing up on the quizes I saw no need. There is a whole lot of reading, and you've got to figure that most people hate to read. So maybe there is just specific areas that you want us to learn, like stuff the will be on tests and quizes and the final, because that weeds out all the other useless material and it knocks the reading down to seem more attainable.

...and the quizzes, let's not forget how unfair quizzes are:
As far as the quizes go. The first 2 were easy, I think I got an 8 and a 9 (out of 10), the last one I got a 5. (Could that be from not reading? maybe, but I also didn't study).

But this student is learning more than ever and truly is sympathetic to my role:
I hope this helps you out with getting an understanding from a students perspective. I know it must be hard being a teacher though, so know that you really are doing a wonderful job. i've learned alot more than I'd ever known about Marine Biology. Good luck with the rest of the semester. see you in class.

With such helpful feedback I have decided to start giving them the 40 question multiple choice exams a few days before I test them, same version. Then I do not even have to cause confusion with my talking/power point lecture business! I can just give them all the questions, have them look up the answers and memorize each multiple choice so the exam is a breeze! I mean, we really should be thinking about those poor students who are going nearsighted from all that useless reading...not to mention my voice from all this meaningless chatter.

Yeah, I think I have a plan there.

Look who's an OBcian now!

2008-09-22T14:04:00.000-07:00

Yes, it is true, I have given up my mainland snobby ways and finally accompanied sage to OB. After 4 weeks of endlessly frustrating house hunting and stress-induced bickering, we have settled into a 400 sq. foot pink beach cottage. By beach, I mean it is a block from the sandstone rocky intertidal of ocean beach just south of the pier. Granted, it wouldn't be OB if you didn't have to descend a piss-covered stairwell to get to it but we are seriously considering parking ourselves at the top (on the cliff) with beach chairs, wine and cheese for the sunsets. We love it! We are just two blocks from Newport, the main drag, but it still feels like a completely residential neighborhood. I wanted to document for you all our transition from mainland to island.

Our Saturday started hung-over after a night of irish-style drinking and lease signing at the Harp with Leslie and Jai.
8am: Convene on the front lawn of 39th st, devise plan for stuff-transport via Uhaul.
8:15am: Kicks off effort with interpretive dance of grocery-shopping/pushing the cart, perhaps the most giddy form of acceptance I have seen of an imminent future of domestic bliss
8:25am: Make a list of stuff we need (the first of many over the next two days) and head out on a brief tour of our favorite b-fast places near the old house. "Restaurant" downtown was closed due to a death in the family so we ended up at Clayton's in Coronado

Back on 39th street, I pack my stuff up while sage pretended to help but really just plays with his guitar and the dogs. He thought donning that pink apron was going to fool me. It goes pretty fast, likely b/c my room on 39th is practically the same size as our new apartment, and soon we are all packed up in the Uhaul and coasting down the highway, towards the coast, belting out some who song.

Enter Narragansett beach cottage: With the help of Leslie and Jai we moved in very fast, navigating around Gary, a friend of the young hip landlord living in the other unit, who was apparently cajoled into doing last minute painting and calking around our place. He was very helpful later that afternoon when we discovered every drain in the place was backed up (due to a year's worth of hair and old pipes). Anyway, he made the calls and got a plumber who, within two days, had replaced most of our pipes. Here are some shots of us getting settled in:

The next day we moved in all sage's stuff, mostly to the garage save six instruments, a bunch of books, music and 4 pictures of music related people and places. We did the requisite trip to Ikea where we randomly ran into Leslie (who let us switch cars with her so we could fit our new couch and two new bookshelves) and then Gary and his lady. We also bought a big palm for the living room. The name of this plant ees Bruce, in case you were wondering. By the end of the day the place was starting to look great...and spacious. And it turns out that sage DOES have a gay side. We had been looking for it. He loves decorating and pretty much took care of every piece of ambiance you see below, except for the kitchen which was my firts time actually putting carolina's blue glass to use! I love the kitchen.

Not only is the place feeling more and more spacious every day, the garden area completely makes up for any shortcomings we might feel in the future. Raj (hip landlord) gave me full reign of the garden area with work bench in between our two units. It used to be covered in bansai trees. The garden patio has a built-in grill and nice lawn furniture and a fireplace. There is also an outdoor shower and these cute fuzzy purple flowers. Anyone know what ees the name of this flower?

It is now Monday afternoon and I have spent a full day working on writing my lecture, very unsuccessfully. This is due to 3 plumbers who were here since 10am. Apparently the 3rd was just a friend of the other one and came just to hang out, always a good choice when the work is being done in a 400 sq ft house while the tenent (me) is home and trying to read about cellular respiration. Maybe he heard we had beer. The two real plumbers were bickering all morning about which pipe or tool to use, then proceeded to pull the entire sink from our wall, spilling water all over our various bathroom items, yet unpacked, and a new rug. I had to vacate the madness for lunch and was delighted to experience OB during the mellow weekday. Walked around and bought some tolerable rolled tacos, made some keys. They were cleaning up when I returned and fighting about whether to use the vacuum or the broom. They settled on the vacuum. As they were leaving, in true CA fashion, the lead plumber gave me his card and told me to call if there were problems with the pipes or if I ever was interested in buying a house. Turns out, he is also a realtor.

So there you have it. We are now officially (gasp!) OBcians. The inscence is burning, the guest bed is ready and our doorstoop is a new shade of bright colonial red so come on over to Narragansett and have a beer!

Respit from the left coast

2008-08-17T16:22:00.000-07:00

Sage and I headed east last week for a vacation split between extreme urban NYC mayhem and calm new england beach town living. We saw ben harper in jersey city which involved Sage's first experience with the subway.

The concert was in liberty state park with a view of the WTC-less sky line and lady liberty. It was pretty rad. Opening for ben was the flamenco guitar sibling duo Gabriela y Rodrigo who were absolutely mesmerizing. I never knew hands could move that fast. It rained for the first two hours which, despite the music, was a bit of a downer. One highlight was when one young jersey girl yelled out "ben, take awff ya shuuuhrt!" a few times during his first couple songs. Ben ignored her.

After the show we returned to our hotel in Times Square. Now hold on people...I know that Times Square is probably one of the worst places to bring an NYC virgin to, but it was actually a great deal. Our SD bud, Nikki, had a room at the Broadway Millenium for a conference and being able to wake up with a view of Times Square from way above was a real treat, even for me. And on our way out of town we got to drive through a very severe lightening storm. 10am, dark sky, lightening bolts, cracking thunder all admist tall sky scrapers and the glaring lights of Times Square. Thanks Nik! It was great to be back there in that NYC vibe where everyone is just a little bit miserable but carries on.

Back in old Westport we were able to relax finally, however Sage spent the next two days in bed wearing his blueberry sweatsuit, with a 101 fever (which of course we blamed on the subway, but it may have also been his habit of sitting on NYC sidewalks to eat his late night pizza).

The next 5 days were spent with my sister, dad and joanie soaking in some sun, some more thunder storms and lots of great food. My sister leaves for India today and it was the last time in a year I would see her. Like a good Carney younger she set out to document her gustatory review of american food before enduring months of yellow stuff on rice. We made sure beef was on the menu at least 3 of the nights but also caught a lobster at Back Eddy. She has become a great little gourmet cook, under my care in part. I am so proud! We also managed a couple visits with the Drews in their new improved house down the street and a boat outing to Cuttyhunk for some hearty blueberry pancakes (pics below of the island and the amazing view from the breakfast place we go to every summer).

On the last day we took the boat up the west fork of the Westport river. We all took turns navigating the channel. Sage ended up taking a nap below deck on the way home.

And of course we had to make one more stop. On the way to the airport Allison took us to Bob and Timmy's pizzeria on Federal Hill in providence. The patio in their new location on Spruce street is a great place for an afternoon meal and beer. I write an entry on this pretty much every visit. The four cheese is still to die for!

Yosemite and Seattle

2008-06-16T11:09:00.000-07:00

Just got back from a fabulous action-packed vacation for which I spent the first weekend in Yosemite camping with Mariah, Toni, Tracey and Linnea and the second week in Seattle with little dude, mom and Sage. Here are some pics of the whole affair.
First day: hike along the river with views of El Capitan.

Back at camp, mariah and i fought over the last sip of Bailey's. she won. i recovered with the help of Toni's amazing campfire invention of smores with peanut butter.

Second day: hike up to Nevada Falls via the Mist trail just under the half dome.

After lunch, we rested on a beach we found in teh middle of the river with views of crazy rock climbers on El Cap, one had been up there 10 days.

Third day: hike in Tolumne Meadows at 8,000 feet. I got up close and personal with a yellow bellied marmot, almost an 8 year dream.

After a night at Toni's in Davis, I flew to Seattle to help my mom spackle, cook some chili with little dude and then show Sage around the town.

After little dude flew off to Madison en route to India, mom treated us to the EMP, ode to Jimi Hendrix and music in general. Going with the whole bridge builder theme, a visit to the Freemont bridge troll was in order too.

Next day after acquiring some of seattle's finest gas station coffee and a new carhart outfit, we headed to Deception Pass in our fabulously lame silver PT Cuiser for some kayaking and the requisite salmon fish and chips in Coupeville where we met the locals and enjoyed some complimentary Penn Cove mussels and beer.

On our final day, we relaxed on Tradition lake at the base of Tiger mountain with some Rogue before catching our flight home.

Bike resistance 2008

2008-04-28T13:34:00.000-07:00

Like any Carson signature event, it started with an anthem. yeah, that one we all know.

And then the revolutionaries were off, instructed to "deny deny deny" everything and anything that could potentially incriminate our fearless leader. He is so selfless, that guy. The first stop was definitely one of the top 3 stops of the day. It involved women vs. men, two pony kegs and a shitload of pastel bendy straws.

next was the luau stop where we piggy backed on some Hawaiian bbq. guess I was distracted and didn't take too many pictures.

Last, the park sans dj. our stay ended in a water balloon fight that never got off the ground and a dance-off won by ms. j

After a friendly tip from the local police, revolutionaries made their way back to the funplex. There imbibed on more beer with "that guy" and enjoyed the fire pit. Another day of drinking well spent with 102 of our closest friends.

...but the weekend was still ahead of us. Sunday promised a lazy day of strolling the pleasant streets of OB and a couple hours at the harp adorning Sage's newly purchased bush refrigerator magnets with go go boots and bustier and coloring in his new gangster coloring book. I highly recommend OB dwellers swing by that hippie shop, you know, the one next to that taco stand, and pick up one of these books...you may get some weird looks but generally bar tenders are quick to accept your creation as back-bar decoration.

Monroe update!

2008-04-06T16:47:00.000-07:00

He's got a new girlfriend! Ms. Gibson finally landed the furry man of her dreams last night on 39th street after a few reluctant attempts at earlier events. Surely, she is still smiling and although I have yet to confirm the outcome with the ex-bachelor, by the lightness of his step around the house this morning I would say he is experiencing a "cloud 9" of sorts.

The final face-off, man vs. lover-dog. Monroe gallantly fought to defend his right, scratch that, to defend the right of all dogs everywhere to love...simply, beautifully, sweetly.

Other highlights from last nights soirée:

Holy Mackerel

2008-03-25T08:59:00.001-07:00

That's correct...holy indian easter mackerel. It's the new craze here on 39th street. All the neighbors are talking about it, or at least smelling it. It all started at a sardine festival in early June 2007 where I discovered grilled sardines. Since then I could not get enough, well until I came back to SD where apparently you really can't get enough...because there are none. I have been wanting to recreate this quintessential Portuguese feast for all my gastrically adventurous friends here in SD. Easter became sardine day. I scoured all the local seafood and asian markets looking for this small fatty fish for over a week, even consulting with the SDSU fish lab. Finally I found some at Ranch 99 but they were frozen and very small, bearing little resemblance to their plump eastern atlantic brothers. I panicked and quickly dialed Jason for a fish consult. You may remember Jason from such previous entries as "Rubix Challenge" where he deftly advised me on stuffed animal accessories.

Anyway, Jason (who is ABD in fish swimming performance) said that mackerel may be a good substitute due to its similarly oily flesh. I made a b-line for the fresh seafood counter where I found indian mackerel selling for $1.99/lb. What a deal! I could practically feed my entire neighborhood for $14. I ordered 7 lbs, heroically declining the fishmonger's offer to clean (de-gut) them, saying "oh no, I need them whole, its portuguese style". I felt cool. Then got a bit nervous when he called in an alternate to confirm that I really did not want them cleaned. They both stared, probably wondering what this white girl wanted with a 7 lb bag of uncleaned indian mackerel. The bag he reluctantly handed me over the counter was HUGE and heavy. Like I said, I had enough to feed my entire neighborhood...but I had only invited 15 people. Such is my life in cooking. I got the suckers home and crammed the bag into the fridge.

The next day I woke up excited. I was going to start by making dessert so all my attention could be on mackerel the few hours before dinner. The dessert is a custard pastry (pasteis de nata), another typical dish from Portugal that I ate a lot of. The best of which comes from a place in Lisbon and is called Pasteis de Belém which my friend's João Tiago and Rute took me to in August. You can see the real deal here. http://verntc.blogspot.com/2007/08/lisbon.html

Then I took on the mackerel. I decided to do 2 test mackerel first. I rubbed them with salt and olive oil, making a few diagonal slits in one, as instructed by an on-line recipe, leaving the other as the control mackerel. I let them sit for an hour then I threw them on the grill 5 minutes a side. As you might have guessed, the cut one turned out dry but the intact one was pretty moist and tasted good though perhaps more "fishy" then a sardine would have.

Even though some may question the validity of my mackerel experimental design (Dr. Dan!), I felt I had settled on a technique. So I washed the rest of the mackerel and rubbed them with oil, pepper, salt and rosemary assisted by hank. The great thing about mackerel is that the flesh is pretty firm, especially when salted for an hour, so they are very easy to fillet after being grilled. All of the fillet skills Licinia taught me this summer paid off and when I gave my mackerel tutorial to the guests (some quite reluctant) it went well. Slit the fish with a blunt knife down the back then cut straight down under the fin, turn the knife towards the tail and shave off the fillet. The fillet can then be eaten on a slice of crusty bread. I was proud of my guests. For the most part they all ate one and seemed to enjoy it, although the look of stalwart refusal they gave me when I told them the typical portion was 2-3 fish a serving may have give their true feelings away. I must admit that even I was a bit turned off by my 3rd fish. In conclusion, the indian mackerel is just no sardine. I hope that someday I can get my hands on some and cajole my guests to return for more whole carcass dining.

Monroe passed out after the party which was also his 2nd birthday

and last but not least, henry's cherry-coke ham which I still have in my fridge and will eat for lunch. Yum!:

Rubix Challenge

2008-03-24T08:24:00.000-07:00

I admit, I was a doubter. The thought of arriving at a party with 6 articles of clothing, each of a different solid color from a rubix cube, and leaving with 6 different articles of clothing, all of one rubix hue, did not thrill me. This event was going to involve both loss and acceptance. The hosts helpfully suggested a trip to a local thrift store where each disposable article could be acquired for "the low low price of $1"....but I was hesitant yet. Needless to say, I have surprisingly become a joiner over these last few years in SD, on a sunny carefree Friday I found myself at Amvets thrift store with my fashion consultant, Jason. As we tore through the place grabbing orange knit hats, royal blue mittens and shiny red tube tops, I could feel the first glimmerings of excitement. This may actually be fun. Then I spotted THE item. A 6 foot long bright green stuffed alligator on the top shelf of the kids aisle. Jason spotted it too. He joyfully snatched it off the shelf, threw it stylishly around his hulking shoulders and exclaimed "this is perfect! just fasten it like this and call it a stole!". He had already picked out a fluffy white kitty as his accessory so that gator was mine.

The following day, after roaming the city with a hunky bridge builder, a brief encounter with a 7 lb bag of indian mackerel at Ranch 99 (see next entry) and making the discovery that my rock-star lifestyle was resulting in voice loss, I arrived at Jason's to get our rubix gear on. We were giddy and only slightly deterred by the discovery that the kitty had a space for 3 C batteries but we had none and would not be able to find out what sorts of feline ways that pussy was capable of (3 C batteries? that is a lot of power for such a small pussy). I digress. We made our grand entrance just in time to be fashionably late, jason's one party attendance criterion. Every guest was donned in the 6 rubix colors. It was quite an amazing sight. A few people shrewdly eyed my gator and one even approached trying to barter a trade before the bell sounded. He actually did end up getting it from me eventually. I decided to go team yellow and he had a scrunci I needed that ended up being much more comfortable than a 10 lb gator around your neck. That thing was tough to dance in, but there cannot be enough said about wearing items that make people want to touch you when they pass....
Ok enough chat, here are the highlights.

again...it just ain't a party without a fog machine and an ice luge. Maybe I am getting too old for this (in hindsight and after looking at the video below...wow, debauchery).

Even with all the excitement, there are always some people who are just too cool for school:

And the winners by color....Jason, Levi, Hank, Steph, Holly and Cove.

and finally, the women of the edwards lab montage featuring myself, crazy stace and of course resident lab darling, mel gibson:

and for a more scientific analysis of the above event, please read the work of my colleague, Hank at http://bucket-o-hank.blogspot.com/2008/03
/why-do-i-have-so-many-rug-burns.html

For all the legs...

2008-03-18T19:22:00.000-07:00

Last weekend Holly and I did the St. Patty's Day run around Fiesta Island. Starting at 7:30am, we set off with the 100 or so other runners decked out in tight green shorts and shiny green hats. It was a pumped up crowd, people were laughing, singing and woot wooting...then the 10k-ers split off from us 4-milers and the 2 milers to make their glorious way around the entire island and it got a bit subdued. By subdued, I mean, everyone started walking and the track turned into a narrow sidewalk. Those of us with any dignity left had to dodge around, repetitively warning "on your left!". As I careened past one lolly-gagging group, I heard someone say "oh, she must be lost". I panicked a bit, straining my eyes ahead to glimpse other kindred joggers and spotted a few...quite a bit ahead of me. Everyone around me was really just there to socialize. People were talking on the phone updating loved ones about the "run" they were doing for charity, even if they were just walking. Women were gabbing about the latest dating fiasco or proclaiming "HE is such a JERK". It is amazing to me that if you put two or more women into running shoes and place them in motion on a hard surface together, they will inevitably start talking about men, and more specifically, how bad men are. I was almost chuckling as I caught snippets of general feminine disappointment along the way.

In a run like this, the 10k-ers get all the glory. and by glory I mean, automated finish lines with an announcer calling out to some of them by name, throngs of people waiting to towel you off and exchange your number stub with a medal, and a clock to tell you just how fast you ran. With memories of crossing the finish to a cheering crowd (and Elvis impersonators) during the half marathon I ran a few years ago in Vegas, I made sure I had enough energy to run fast across the 4-mile finish. However when I got there the first of the 10k-ers were crossing their finish 50 yards away and a crowd had formed. The 4-mile finish was devoid of people and the timer was stuck at 44 minutes (which was extremely disappointing to realize later on!). I actually wasn't even sure I had actually crossed the finish it was so dead so I kept jogging for a few minutes until I realized the crowd was just getting farther away. A few moments later I ran into Holly who quickly procured for us shiny green medals and the ugly race tee and we limped over to the beer garden.

By 9:30am we had finished the run, eaten free pizza and imbibed on beers at the complimentary Ballast Point Brewery beer garden. It was quite a day. I gotta say though, the best part was passing the lone Go Vavi mascot walking along Mission Bay Dr. still in full tiger gear. He certainly had not lost his spirit, for whatever he was trying to promote and was pumping his arms at the invisible crowd.

Next time I am going to do the math right and run the 10k.

back to the 80s...sort of

2008-02-25T13:12:00.000-08:00

This weekend I finally made it to an SD roller derby. After a hellacious week of losing and breaking various "objects", having my dissertation taunted by mother nature and coming down with the jet-setting virus that seems to be plaguing all of humanity this winter, I felt I needed to get out some aggression by watching scantily clad fierce women knock each other around a polished floor. Better yet, last week coincided with my 33rd birthday, making a trip to Linda Vista's SkateWorld all the more relevant. Harkening back to the days of spandex pants, glitter and sheet cake, skating rinks are just made for birthdays.

Roller derby is awesome! These ladies are not only amazingly skilled skaters but they have an uncanny ability to balance the savagely brutal interactions required on the rink with graceful charm expected by all ladies (in some circles at least, see this site for more information on the topic http://bucket-o-hank.blogspot.com/2008/01
/conveyor-belt-etiquette-part-ii.html). This became all too obvious about 20 minutes after we had all gathered rink-side to watch the action when I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and heard a polite "pardon me". I stepped aside and watched as a 6 foot 2 amazon with bleach blond cropped hair and two black eyes glided past me onto the rink. On the back of her jersey was written "Miss Evil #55". The scariest looking player however was donned "Riot". We got up close and personal while she was sitting in the penalty box for some offense she had committed.

The game is pretty simple actually as far as rules and scoring but it is almost impossible to watch the game and know what is going on, it happens so fast. There are something like 8 refs in the center of the rink, all showing different hand signals at any one moment and then one daunted -looking score keeper with a clipboard trying to interpret all of these. The final score of the game was 62 to 112 so obviously points were being scored often during the 20 minute halves but I don't think I observed one point knowing that it had occurred. But nonetheless, we were mesmerized. Next game featuring the SD Derby Dolls is March 15 and we will definitely be there!

After the derby we sauntered over to Padre Gold, a local upright establishment that featured free pizza and cheap beers for derby spectators. We met up with the hapless few who did not make it into the derby before it sold out and filled them in on the action they missed. Fortunately, Trace and Dev were among them and they had been drinking while waiting so their last two hours were in no way lacking for action. Luckily, we arrived just in time to catch Trace espousing on the importance of using the appropriate extinction coefficient when determining the risk factors associated with carnivorous land snails trapped on island-based continents.

After a few beers and more merriment, the OB members of our group started getting the twitch that occurs after 5 hours of being out of OB so we packed back into our caravan and headed to Tiny's, probably my favorite OB bar. There, Hank and Alyssa sent out the OB signal and within 20 minutes the place was crawling with our people.

Oh but the night was just beginning. We were in OB, the beer is cheap and the natives never sleep. Only slightly lesser well known is this, they have the ability to drink for consecutive nights without reprieve. I was determined to not let my 33 years and Fairmont Park residence status deter me. I had to keep up! So the next obvious stop once the bars closed was the Funplex where Hank immediately set up his strobe light, disco ball and fog machine (he actually owns a fog machine) and I was treated to my first ever late night house of fun dance party. WARNING: some of the moves you are about to see are trademarked. For permission to use these moves in your own place of residence, please contact the thriller dance team, p.o. box somewhere in OB.

Dancing lasted to 6am, well by then it was merely mellow toe-tapping but I can conclude that at 33, I still got it in me! and maybe they will even invite me back.
PHOTO CREDITS: All photos taken by Holly on Holly's camera. Thanks Holly!

.....and please stay tuned for my next entry entitled "Hank pimped my ride".

Team Blackout places 3rd

2008-02-17T14:41:00.000-08:00

The Great American Trolly Race was on. The OB and SDSU contingents met at Old Town's flagpole where chief engineer Hank assigned the 4 teams (each a risky sampling from both contingents), told us the rules (never forget, safety second!) and led us and many patriotic on-lookers in singing the national anthem.

The asian mussel was nominated captain of team Blackout, our beautiful and talented judge pulled out the first of 45 envelopes and gave us our starting mission, catch the trolly to the Yard House, 1/2 yards for all. Ok so that piddely little pint glass was mine but I preferred to work my way up slowly...I mean, 44 envelopes to go people!

Our next mission was taken on foot...disaster, Team Red Hots faced us down at the entrance of our next classy establishment which turned out to be closed. We proceeded to Chee Chee across the street. The asian mussel had the foresight to order our 11 "special shots" before the other team so we could shave off precious minutes, road to victory paved.

Next envelope told us to get to H Street and after some confused wandering Kim realized this meant Chula Vista and not downtown and that we could in fact not walk there. Back on the trolly, Trace industriously copied down the trolly map by hand to avoid future mishaps. This surely would have won her MVP if it were not for the 3 iphones we soon discovered on our team. Our instructions for CV suggested additional point options for tattoos and piercings. The drinking destination, el Agave, was fabulous! The shots were actually whole drinks that you could make look smaller by pouring into several shot glasses AND there was a live mariachi band warming up who were all to happy to pose seductively for us.

As we had suspected for weeks due to our easy access and Hank's love for performances where human women interact with hooved animals, our next mission given by envelope 42, was to cross the border and fulfill a long litany of tasks. Just like the peso, the points were much smaller than those available in the homeland, save for going topless while swinging from an indoor pole...Less fun options included absynth, tequila with whistles, trinkets (we opted for a phallic-shaped pipe), laying hands on the friendship arch, placing a political wager, touching the zebra inappropriately requesting shakira and bucket of beer at Taco Bell.

This was the closest we came to requesting Shakira...no points.

We wound our way back to the border only to find a viciously long line of bedraggled tourists, most of whom looked like they needed a nap, or serious therapy. Luckily, our judge supplied a bottle of Jager so we were able to continue wracking up points while we waited. As we got closer to the border and precious time ticked away, team morale began to teeter on the edge, then swung between alternating highs and lows with every ensuing jager swig and churo bite, belligerency was unavoidable...no one would fight me. The asian mussel turned a deaf ear and would not succumb to my trash talking. He had already heard all those jokes about his mother, apparently.

3 hrs later most of us had made it across unscathed however our very own resident alien was sent to yet another line that delayed her even longer. The guards were clearly suspicious of her personal taste in mexican trinkets and her plans of re-selling them upon returning to australia.

Once we had re-grouped, envelope #36 told us to go to nother bar in CV, which I cannot even remember except that I am pretty sure I snuck into the bathroom to dump my almost full red bull and vodka down the drain so I would not have to endure another sip and was so happy to discover that I could hide the residual ice cubes from my team member in the stall by running hot water over them. Oh, and that we got the sour-faced lead singer of what appeared to be a RHCP cover band to sing Shakira, 5 more points.

Closely trailing us in time and good looks, team great white entered Janie's something as we were leaving and our mad dash sprint revealed we had missed the trolly. More waiting and mulling over our next destination, Kansas City BBQ where we had to catch a 10pm performance of Maverick & Goose lamenting about loving feelings. Sadly my cravings for BBQ were smacked down by our vegan captain who speedily passed out shots of night train and got us on our way. But not fast enough to miss meeting our new friend "suzanne" who liked to dance.

We had come to our final mission, if we so chose to accept it, which our judge urged us to do, disdainfully reminding us of our prudish ways in Tijuana only hours before. Our final stop required walking miles across downtown to the trendy W bar where we were to try to convince the doormen to allow our motley crew into the roof beach bar. No problem! Holly striped down to her tube top and all of a sudden seemed to be wearing make-up and I, already in black, used my girlish charm and thirst for more points to talk our way upstairs into what turned out to be a private 30th birthday party. The very large bouncer was a true team player and as soon as I told him how many points each shot was worth, he caved. 8 kamikazies and 45 points later, we were on our way back to the final destination.

All 4 teams converged on the Casbah at midnight for final drinks and revelries. Hank announced the winners. Shouts of both glee and shame were heard around the room, but mostly we were all just drunk and happy to have survived the 12 hour day with no more than a few scratches and a barely noticeable limp. Holly and I did receive a special flower for outstanding levels of prudishness in Tijuana from Hank. We are not sure what he gave the less chaste teams...but I am sure it will end up on u-tube.

It's agreed, the second annual great american trolly race took San Diego by storm on February 16, 2008. Team blackout did not however, but as I sit here with my residual headache, running my fingers across the official "GATR 2 Blackout" tattoo I was lovingly coerced into and lamenting the loss of my green fleece hat, I am certain we played our A-game and team spirit was exceptional. Go Blackouts!

Oh, that bush

2008-01-16T18:55:00.000-08:00

and I quote, "when history was written, the final page will say......victory was achevied by the united states of america for the good of the world."

Ok, so I stole it from someone on tv, but still....funny. why do we need to get rid of this guy again? where will all the laughs go?

Double J's get hitched

2008-01-09T17:20:00.000-08:00

A few more egg nogs and christmas was behind us. But christmas inevitably gives way to Boxing day (at least in some country I cannot get a consensus on) and to celebrate that event I found myself at a cocktail party in Barrington, RI where I was given an invaluable weight-loss tip: checking into a hospital and hooking up to intravenous fluids for 3 days. Eight lbs lighter, guaranteed. I can get you more details on how to check yourself in while avoiding admin. hassles if your interested...and of course if your insurance covers that sort of thing. I think it could be a big hit here in SD...wow.

Anyway, a few days later and certainly NOT lighter, LD and I hit the road south. We pulled into Dutch PA, Lancaster to be specific, at around 4:30pm only to find that the object of this destination would not be free until 9pm. To kill time we shared a pizza and some semi-frozen mozzarella sticks at a local ristorante where the waiter said "what yous guys want" and "yous welcome". Barnes and Noble (not Nobles) supplied our next few hours of fun, browsing the latest prose by Ann Coulter and listening to the check-out guy brag about his new gun with a gleam in his eye to a rosy cheeked younger boy with an equally shiny gleam in his eye. Where were the Amish when you needed them? Apparently not in B&N.

When we met up at the house we found a kitchen full of cousins (one of which graduated with LD from Wheeler, small world), a foosball table, my best friend visiting from Chile and her new man, who is coincidentally from dutch PA. The fact that she and I were seeing each other 4 years later and in the middle of PA was beyond me. We spent the next day eating scrapple and mush with his extended family, walking the dog and drinking my new favorite Pinot (2006 La Crema, Sonoma) over 12 monkies. It was a LONG awaited reunion. Also, I schooled everyone at foosball. Ok so that pic was not taken on this trip or even on this continent and true, I stole it from the photographer, but I swear it will make me no money.

Onward to a night in a very dingy motel somewhere on the border of Ohio where I laid awake all night thinking about bed bugs and the other microscopic critters that were making my body their home for the night. Finally we arrived in Louisville a day before new years eve and the big event of J & J's union in matrimony. Have you been to this booming metropolis? The thing is, I think the people that live there have never even been there. It is empty. Everything is closed and no one is on the street. Being there was like living in the movie "The Night of the Comet" and you're that Eric Estrada look-alike who crawls out of his truck with his dog to find dust piles where people used to be. But the zombies never arrived...well not until an hour before the bourbon bar closed anyway.

Luckily most of our time was spent in the fabulous Hotel 21C, which seemed tailor-made for such a happy, stylish couple. Those two and their families threw one of the best 2 day parties of the year. 21C is literally a museum with art installations all over. There is a real time digital movie of a couple sleeping and smoking in bed on the lobby floor and digital letters fall on top of you as you wait for the elevators making words on your profile. There were also 4 foot tall red plastic penguins everywhere, outside your hotel room, hanging off the roof, waiting at the altar, wrassling with you on the dance floor (and by 'you', I mean Lev, and by 'with' I mean that penguin was molested)...always with the same non-plussed expressions and slight shrug of the wing like they had seen it all before.

Everyone in the wedding party looked fantastic but J & J stole the show with their beaming smiles and emotion at the altar. Even the penguins were taken-in.

And afterwards, nothing says 'I do' like a little hava nagila.

This penguin could not get enough once he had a taste of 'you'.

J's high school sweethearts reminiscing post-bourbon how cbd used to bust them for various school-age debauchery and, oh yeah, how doc abhorred me back in the day. But I'll let it go, especially now that he comes with a super charming wife.

The Docs' rendition of 'luck be a lady tonight' before retiring to bed and to a requisite bourbon hang-over. Not so nice when mixed with an early morning flight.

Not sure what these guys were doing, but somehow they look different. Wait a minute...is that his...? did you...? oh I get it.

Ok, so the nights sorta blended together and I got so little sleep, I cannot even really call them 'nights', more like one continuous breezy afternoon. Our buzzed wanderings took us from the open bar at the Italian place to the hotel bar to the bar down the street which turned out to be a very clandestine gay bar, whose true nature took painstaking observation to detect and where we flipped a table (and by 'we' I mean doc and reality tv as a result of the lack of cbd's supervision) and drank $4 bottles of champagne...always a mistake. Next to the hotel, to the cafe, to the wedding, to the reception, to the bourbon tasting, to the open bar, to the dance floor, back to the open bar, to the lobby, and at every step encountering someone fabulous and a friend of old, hearkening from the Drew days...and then the day finally ended and we had rest.

...and by 'rest' I mean roaming the comet-stricken streets looking for food and derby horses. We found our horse but food was going to have to wait until San Diego. See ya, Kentucky.

Christmas down east

2007-12-24T07:29:00.000-08:00

Last Thursday I arrived at PVD's TF Greene airport. Little dude gathered me at the airport immediately whisking me away to the ppm where we shopped until 10pm, accomplishing many of our consumer goals but not enough of them to keep us from doing it all over again the following day. The bonus of which was hitting up my old time favorite Bob and Timmy's grilled pizza on Federal Hill where the 4 cheese pizza reigns supreme over all past pizza experiences. This thing is loaded with red onions, pink vodka sauce, mozzarella, parsley and tasty pockets of Gorgonzola all on the flattest, softest grilled bread your tongue will ever know. And at their new location off Atwells, they even throw in the largest pint of heff I have had delivered to me without asking for it. LD was thrilled at the prospect of shopping with me after I downed one of those bad boys. I think I had to give her my MC for safe-keeping.

Since then we have spent our days waking at 11am, heading to the compound gym for family treadmill hour, returning to shower and eat a hearty breakfast, lounge around wrapping gifts, walking and then heading off to our evening meal. Isn't this what vacations are about? Between meals I have also been able to catch up on my popular press (well at least more popular than the stuff I read when I am at work anyway) including nat'l geographic's reports on declining tuna fisheries and the recent musings of he NYT on "Clintonism" and why Obama will never be elected. These activities have effectivly prevented me from doing any actual work, which is ever looming in the back of my mind like a dark presence, reminding me (usually at 4am) that I am at the tail end of my 6 year degree with very few professional aspirations to speak of at cocktail parties. I digress....

On par with previous visits to Tiverton, LD and I prepared one of the family feasts. These dishes seem to get more and more complicated as the years go on (save for the year when JEB actually deglazed a pan). This year was Osso Bucco alla Milanese with cheesy fennel potatoes and snap peas finished off with a pear raspberry cobbler (the 3 latter of which were made by LD which was quite a juggle since we literally cooked all items simultaneously). Osso bucco was a first for me. Translated as 'bone hole' presumably because after the braising process the marrow has melted out of the hole in the leg bone, leaving it hollow. It was my first time using a bouquet garni and gremolata too.

LD battled it out with a huge block of gruyere (tasty cheese chunks were strewn about for hours) for the potatoes and learned how to blanch pears for dessert .

Meanwhile we were attempting to decorate the tree amidst dad's pacing and chanting of Martha Stewart-sponsored xmas tunes. This process all went much faster once the nog was made. Joan's nog has been passed down in her family and is a little piece of rum and frothy heaven.

Did I have to warn you all that this blog would be food-heavy? Jeez, it is the holidays after all! Luckily there is a scenic new england walk into Tiverton from the house, even if LD referred to such activities as "family enforced" I think even she enjoyed the route.

This morning, christmas eve, we woke up to a sunny snow-less day. At noon I am still in my pajamas. I know I need to shower and then hit the mall one last time to finish my christmas list so that no one goes for want, however reports from Joanie who just returned from the market, promise an absolute mob scene. It would be much nicer to just sit here gazing out the window and at the wrapped boxes under the tree, attempting my essay for the various grant applications I need to get out.....actually, Macy's doesn't sound so bad.

Ocean Beach Holiday Parade

2007-12-11T14:02:00.000-08:00

So last weekend I attended the OB holiday parade, supposedly the longest parade in the country....but I think that is a false fact. It was replete with robotic giraffes with opposable limbs, drunk debutants perched on convertibles, gigantic Polar Express re-makes and of course the geriatric surfer's brigade. The onlookers included flask swiggers and sexy santas....very OB, eh? Some highlights are below but more pictures can be found at: http://convoluta.ucdavis.edu/lauragallery
/view_album.php?set_albumName=album18&page=1

Cheez-ITs

2007-11-24T18:24:00.000-08:00

Cheez-ITs....fruit of the gods or nitrogen induced addiction?

I swear, they are even fantastic on dry land.

All Hallow's eve

2007-10-28T11:42:00.000-07:00

We found ourselves once again at Hank and Em's OB Funplex. This year they went all out with a professional DJ and fire twirlers...because, really, what is a party without fire twirlers, especially when the party is held during FIRESTORM 2007?

Here are some highlights but more pics are at http://convoluta.ucdavis.edu/lauragallery/
view_album.php?set_albumName=album33

SD is burning

2007-10-23T08:48:00.000-07:00

Here are some more pics. The eerie sun at 5pm filtered through the smoke.

The dogs are seriously going crazy having us both home at once and not being able to play for long outside due to the air quality.

Leslie has packed up all her valuables, 30 gallons of water and the largest collection of Luna bars, nuts and dried fruit I have seen and has them ready at the front door in case we get that reverse 911 call telling us we have 20 minutes to evacuate.

I watched her from the couch, drinking a beer....

......should I be doing something?

The outline of the fire closest to us as of 5:30am is below. We are on the intersection of Home and Market just west of the fire.

please....

2007-10-18T14:08:00.000-07:00

...someone put me out of my misery and give me a beer!

anyone?

Final days in Portugal

2007-10-05T14:37:00.000-07:00

My last days in Portugal were marked by the largest tosta mista I had ever encountered (well actully tosta con frango y....umm, however you say garlic) at Praia Faro and a goodbye dinner at Xana's house in Gambelas. Goncalo tortured us wth his weird hungarian apple liquor. Sorry to all my Portuguese friends but the camera came out only at the end so I didn't get most of you! But Thank god I managed to catch Filipe with his jello (a dish that showed up to every house party I attended in faro). Thanks guys for such a great send off!

En route to San Diego I stopped by to see the fam in Westport. The weekend began in true Carney fashion with egg sandwiches for everyone. We fit in a few tennis games where off season sprinklers interrupted our grueling match of canadian doubles. Carney the younger was slamming us with her net shots the whole time, she was "fabulous".

Alentejo pork and wine

2007-09-25T06:25:00.000-07:00

Filipe said "we have to do it right". He was referring to eating meat in Portugal. Meat, as in pork. Specifically black pork (and all our endearing pet names for it). Eating black pig here is apparently a very special experience and requires a 2 hour drive into the heart of the Alentejo region (just north of the Algarve). Timely with my imminent departure, the Alentejo is also a very productive wine region and is replete with white walled mountain villages. So I was able to cram a week's worth of site seeing (and 3 days of drinking) into one day. Also because each village has its very own strategically placed castle, I was able to increase my european castle quota by over 100%. I now can leave this continent satisfied.

We arrived in Beja by 9:30am where we met up with Pedro, our local tour guide. Our first scenic stop was Serpa. Beautiful city and became my favorite spot in Portugal.

Views from castle #1

What is site seeing without a taste of the local alcohol? Serpa is known for its "dirty beer" which is an age old technique of serving beer, in this case Sagres, in glasses that are washed with the least amount of care possible. This unique process leaves behind residue in the glass which somehow increases the amount of carbonation the beer contains once in the glass. As long as you do not scrutinize the black schmegma adhearing to the insides of the glass too much, it is really nice tasting beer. You have to admit, that is one bubbly brew...

Then we were off to Ameira (home to the largest bull fighting ring in the region) for our black pig lunch where we met up with Cristina. Pedro's restaurant serves the pig grilled as secretos de porco preto, which I like to refer to as 'little pork secrets' or 'my little pork secrets' if I am feeling particularly nostalgic. This lunch definitely stirred up some nostalgia. The Portuguese have a great talent for infusing any meat or fish item with copious amounts of salt in a very non-offensive way. The pork arrived on trays, charred and salty. Rita and fought for the most singed bits and we were off!

And again, what is any traditional Portuguese meal without the corresponding traditional Portuguese drink? Look at their facial expressions as they cajoule me to try Bagaso, the fermented leftovers from the wine-making process, which is served from your very own mini wooden barrel...so conniving.

We sluggishly rolled out of Ameira to drive 35 km south to Monsaraz, an elevated white walled village with an amazing view. Monsaraz immediately replaced Serpa as my favorite Portuguese village. It had the advantage of having a castle that had been turned into a bull fighting ring, which was just cool to stand in.

By sunset we arrived at the Monte do Limpo winery that had a beautiful view of Monsaraz and had a tasting menu made up of 4 really nice wines. Contrary to CA, wines Portuguese wines are commonly blends of several varietals so I am really confused about what we drank exactly. We each bought a bottle or two of the 2004 reserve red blend (Trincadeira, Aragonês, Alicante Bouschet, Syrah, Tinta Caiada). It was a marathon way to end the day.

killing pigeons for science (jt)

2007-09-25T01:55:00.000-07:00

In my final 2 weeks in Portugal I have been able to fit in a few more adventures. I did my first cave dive in Sagres with Cristina and got to spend some time with her daughter Ines and lounge about on the very dramatic Sagres cliff-side beaches.

I witnessed JT's efforts to lure eagles to a certain location so he can tag them. The lure involves tying a pigeon down at the same spot every other day so they get used to feeding there and then after a few months they will spring a trap to catch them, tag them and let them go. First, assisted by Neiva, he braids a harness for the lucky bird:

Then, in what could have been straight out of some Conan movie, he tied the poor soul down amidst the carnage of past feeding events (note mess of feathers). Then we drove off, leaving the bird to face its fate. The next day JT will check the spot to see who ate who.

Afterwards we enjoyed the views from the countryside. This is a pile of cork just harvested from the local cork oaks dotting the landscape. The literally shave off the bark every 9 years to harvest. Cork is a very important export for Portugal and since these native trees are abundant and preserved for long term harvest, the landscape faces some risk given the growing popularity of synthetic corks. The oak hills will surely be replaced by housing developments if the cork market crashes. However, some Portuguese still hold hope that cork could survive once space shuttles become more popular to build....seems cork is used as a sort of insulation...or was in the 70s at least.

Lisbon with a sports fan

2007-09-13T01:39:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I again visited the Massa household.

Sónia, an avid Benfica fan, took me to see the Portugal/Poland game on Saturday, which was really fun. The Benfica stadium is brand new and really nice, although they do not allow alcohol at any of the games, which Sónia convinced me was a good thing. The place was filled with Poles but they were mostly confined to the top section. It was quite a sight. The statue is of Eusébio, one of the best Portuguese players in history. It was here where my ticket was liberated from my pocket, only to be found 5 minutes later under the feet of a crowd of crazed fans, close one.

The requisite Cristiano Ronaldo montage (this is for you, Josh!):

On Sunday we had a little time for some sight seeing around Lisbon, stuff we had missed the last time. A really nice local beach on the way up the coast to Cascais.

The Jerónimos monastery built around 1450 (this had one of the most well done historical exhibits I have ever seen - a time line that wrapped around an entire room listing important, and not so important, corresponding events for the monastery, Portugal and the world). The Monastery is also the burial place for Vasco do Gamma who established the trade route b/t Portugal and India.

The Cristo Rei statue on the opposite side of Tagus River which had a very stuffy elevator that went up to the top, well almost to the top, and then you had to walk up 3 flights of stairs on the narrowest staircase I have ever been on. Did I mention how many Poles there were in Lisbon that weekend. These guys are generally huge and we found our way timidly squeezing our way past what seemed like the entire second tier futbol team on the way up.

Noite Branca

2007-09-03T01:23:00.000-07:00

Last night was one of those epic nights that last forever…and ever…and then another hour after that. Noite Branca (white night) is a European tradition where everyone dresses in white and roams around the city center, shopping, eating, drinking, and in a more modern twist, dancing to trance music. Rita and Isabel picked me up at 9pm, we got Emilio and headed to Loule, about 30 minutes from Faro.

We started with an elongated dinner of sangria and seafood (as promised I passed on the sardines and chose a traditional Algarve dish of grilled tuna steak with caramelized onions). Our waitress was only 11 years old, we were pretty sure. But she had nothing on the Indonesian child workers and took about 30 minutes to set up our table and another 30 to bring our sangria...all while the party we came for was proceeding without us at the end of the street. We finally paid and joined the party. The streets were packed with people in white, and all had huge white cloth canopies overhead. Every few hundred yards there were make shift living rooms in the middle of the street with overstuffed couches, bean bag chairs (in white and orange) and old Moroccan looking lanterns. There were fire performers everywhere and stilt walkers too, sauntering around every corner with their creepy david lynch-like gait.

Also, in true European fashion, there was a castle in the city center. This is one thing that Europe has on the States. Yeah, I know what your thinking, ‘what about the fact that milk only comes in cardboard boxes?’. We all love that, of course. But even better than that is the scattering of real castles throughout the cities that just happen to be the backdrop of everyday modern life. So, my Portuguese friends indulged me and we got some drinks and hung out under one of the roman arches. This castle had a modern flare and the grounds were lined with subterranean lights that were fading on and off which gave the whole place the feel of some industrial dance club.

Next stop was the make-shift dance hall which was cooler than most real clubs I have been in. There were smoke machines, colored lights and huge white sheets draped all over everything, all surrounded by ancient town walls.

We ended up at a bar down the road, drinking and talking. Every time I looked at a watch it was a couple hours after the last time I looked and it still only felt like we had been out an hour. The bar was not too happening so we walked back to the dance hall, made friends with a guy who had passed out in one of the outdoor living rooms. He didn’t talk much.

And then started walking back to the car. On the way we heard the alluring crone of the Eurythmics coming from a second floor bar (which I think was actually someone’s apartment) and, this being an epic night already, we went up. We made our entrance to the Bangles “Walk like an Egyptian” all striking the called for walk in procession, and then danced to all time favorites such as Great Balls of Fire and 3 o’clock rock (it was an eclectic mix for sure) and finally decided to call it a night. We called it a night in Loule anyway. At 5am we arrived back in Faro, got a beer at Nordik and danced for another hour to yet another trance-like dj. These people truly go forever. On the way home, we stopped at a bakery for some bread filled with chorizo, which may not be the ideal choice for everyone at 6am on the way to bed, but it was so good. After some hours of sleep I am now recovering at home with some of Sonia’s mom’s feijuada, getting myself amped up to go sit on the beach all afternoon. Weekend ife can be tough here for sure. Thank god I have more gels to analyze tomorrow.

Lisbon

2007-08-31T02:20:00.000-07:00

Spent last weekend in Lisbon staying with Sónia, my lab mate and her family in Carnaxide (not pronounced like I was heading to my death but Carneshide). Sonia has 7 dogs, 2 of which are St. Bernards…oh, and like 50 small tropical birds…oh, and 1 bunny. It was really fun to be in such a full house. Not to mention all the home-cooked meals and red wine. We spent the day shopping and then Sónia took off for the Benfica game, leaving me in the care of João Tiago and Rute. They took me to a World Press photo exhibit featuring many award-winning shots of everything from the Miss Senior Sweetheart pageant in Fall River, MA to body parts strewn across a street in Venezuela. It was fairly intense. Then we made the obligatory stop at Pasteis de Belém for their version of the pasteis de nata that everyone told me I must try. It was well worth the vulture-like waiting for a table.

That night we also shopped some more at Bairro Alto neighborhood and walked through the city digesting our sardine meals and taking photos. Some of those below are taken by João. Just a note: I have been told that Portuguese cuisine has more to offer than just grilled sardines so from now on I will be feasting on other whole carcass fish.

After a harrowing drive to the outer regions of Lisbon, we met up with Sónia in Amadora (a neighborhood with the largest Cape Verdian population outside of Cape Verde) at a bar that featured not only a Bon Jovi-esque cover band, low ceilings and an entrance that you had to buzzed in and out of, but also what must have been a very hefty fire insurance policy. As the band belted out G&R’s Paradise City, the entire bar counter was intentionally lit on fire about 5 feet behind me. I had no idea where I was. Logically, I knew it was Portugal but the cues around me were screaming West Warwick, RI. The next day Sónia took me to see Castelo de São Jorge which overlooks the entire Lisbon area, including the creative combination of Rio and SF in one view.

I had been to the castle 14 years ago with Dominique so it was all vaguely familiar.

Afterwards was lunch at the Massa house and then our last adventure of the weekend, Sintra. This town is ancient. Apparently, being the highest point in the area, the Romans held this as a sacred spot, something about the moon (João?). But the buildings were so beautiful and lined twisting steep cobblestone streets, dotted with pastry shops, wine sellers and restaurants. As you can imagine, I was completely camera happy in this locale.

And lastly, this is a shout out to Prof. Jessica Brasswell. The Massa family also employs the plastic-bag-filled-with-water technique to ward off house flies although they could not explain why it works either.

Hiking in Sagres

2007-08-21T06:27:00.000-07:00

This weekend my adventure coordinator, Licinia, took me on an odyssey-like hike from Vila de Bispo to Sagres in the southwest corner of Portugal. Her initial itinerary was to hike along the coast, have a goose neck barnacle lunch at some local Sagres establishment, and then hike back. Each way was 12 km. This seems a bit long for an afternoon, no? She estimated 1.5-2 hrs each way. I never did check her math. But I was optimistic and it really felt good to walk. So we walked...and walked...and took in some amazingly dramatic ocean cliff views...and walked some more. 3 hrs later we finally saw Sagres, but it still seemed pretty far. We briefly pondered taking a detour to the cape to see one of the fortresses but Rushka, our little black furry friend (Xana, don't say it!), had a fit and demanded we head straight to town to get whatever sustenance we could find. I had to agree, the dirt road ahead of us did appear quite long. Around 3:30 we finally dragged our weary legs, hips, feet and shoulders into Sagres and sat down. Two tostas mistas and some batidos later, we had to face the fact that we were 12 km away from the car, buses don't like dogs and, according to Licinia, Portuguese taxis cannot be trusted. It all worked out though...Licinia took the bus herself to get the car while Rushka and I ate chocolate crepes at the restaurant. She really knew how to treat the American guest! After reuniting, we drove to the cape and were awed by the views once more. Here are some photos:

Our would-be preview of lunch, the slanted trees conditioned by relentless wind which makes the Sagres area a fantastic surfing spot.

These bushes looked so fluffy but were as hard as cement and made up of very sharp spikes that stung your skin for an hour after any accidental contact.

The south side of the coast:

The west side of the coast, 100 feet over:

Welcome to my world

2007-08-17T03:54:00.000-07:00

Since returning from Lugano, I have immersed myself in the lab monotony I call my life. Well it isn’t that bad I guess. I am enjoying the productivity. I have 5 multiplexes of msat primers to run on all my samples and I am just about done with the first one and started the second today. Each one should take less than a week if no problems arise. Then Filipe gets back on the 3rd and I will start analyzing the data under his advise, getting as much done as possible before the end of September. Oh yeah, did I tell you? I am staying a few weeks extra, cutting my stay on the EC short. This may also allow me to squeeze in some more traveling in Europe (my new favorite tract of land – yeah, I think I love the whole damn thing, well maybe save certain eating establishments in Spain).

Anyway, this is what I have been doing the past two straight days:

It’s a chromatogram of 5 dna loci (locations along the genome) for one individual I collected in 2006. I have 200 individuals so I will have 5 pictures like this for each individual to analyze. It could be much worse actually, I have fewer samples than most geneticists I know. The different colors are the loci and there are either 1 or 2 peaks for that loci depending on if the individual is heterozygous or homozygous. I chose this one because it is really clean and very clearly shows this individual is heterozygous for 4 of the loci since you can see two red peaks, two blue peaks and so on. That means its parents were different from each other for those loci, got it? Sorry, but you have to suffer too…just a bit.

I have been having some fun too though. For instance, yesterday was a Catholic holiday celebrating some assumptions made by the virgin (not sure what assumptions she made, but I am almost positive they had nothing to do with the risk factors involved in using the rhythm method). Anyway, everything was closed in town, presumably so that all religiously minded Portuguese would be able to gather in the north under the pouring rain, singing and waving white handkerchiefs…at least, that is what it looked like on tv. Licinia and I took this chaste opportunity to visit Vila Real de Santo Antonio just on the border of Spain where, at the end of a long winding walk through the pines is a really nice beach. It was the perfect Wednesday. The mega-cool bonus was that Vila Real is probably one of the most pleasant towns I have been in, like a little Lisbon with very old beautiful buildings lining a wide river overlooking Spanish border towns. After the beach we strolled around and then feasted on grilled sardines, which has fast become my staple food item. I am even getting good at filleting them in a way that reduces the number of bones that will line my esophagus for hours.

I think this weekend we will head to Sagres on the southwestern tip of Portugal for some hiking...oh, and there’s that surfing championship happening too. Something to rid my brain of multicolored lines!

More on the real land of milk and honey

2007-08-09T22:02:00.000-07:00

I am on my way back to Faro now. My visit to Lugano was perfect. We did none of the things I thought we would, save visiting my old dorm, but I would not change a thing. Mostly every night I stayed up with someone until 3-5am talking and sipping wine. We had so so much to discuss after all these years, spouses to get to know and new wines to try. I do not have the energy to give many details right now, these I will share in person for sure, but I wanted to show you some pictures. Generally, these are of the views from Arianna and Ryad's place, the double rainbow, around Lugano, panino stand, the lido bar, Arianna's best sofia lauren, making pancakes, Alfredo's arrival and the martini bar, Arianna and Ryad's new tree, Locarno film festival, thermal baths somewhere in german switzerland (I never did get to look at that map), Arianna's pool, dorm Giardino, dinner at Christina and Jake's and our reunion with Prof. McCormick at a grotto near Franklin. The more artistic shots were taken by Matteo, Arianna's talented cousin (I simply provided the machinery).

I will say that my two night stopover in Madrid was quite nice, except for the windowless dingy hostal room. I visited the Museo del Prado where I was able to experience Bosch's Garden of Earthy Delights (Beautiful is not really the word, but it is amazing to stare at and has got to be evidence that LSD was in fact invented by a Hoffmann precursor sometime in the late 15th century...it is filled with 70s style pink spaceships and other structures straight out of Sleeper). The Prado also has a great Goya collection from his black period, portrayals of country life in gray, black and brown each with something white in the center which gives every piece a feeling of infinite darkness surrounding some small hope...at least that is what I saw :) Also I caught the Van Gough exhibit at the Thyssen museum showing the 70+ pieces he produced during the last 70 days of his life...amazing. Afterwards I walked around the Gran Via and Puerta del Sol areas and then met Asun, a post doc I know from Faro, for drinks and pinchos.

My plane leaves in 2 hours, I need to buy sunglasses, and although there are things I do not want to leave, I think I am ready to get back to Faro and become a grad student again....

Swiss teaser

2007-08-06T06:41:00.001-07:00

I am really sorry to do this to you but I just cannot resist. This is my view as I write this entry:

I have been in Lugano Switzerland since last Wednesday. I did my freshman year of college here at Franklin and have spent the past 4 straight days hanging out with old friends who I have not seen in 14 years! Everyone has gone back to work today so I am hanging out at Christina's house that she and her husband are house-sitting in the hills above the town. I am currently contemplating the fact that I could do some work on my laptop poolside, make some graphs or something...or just lay by the pool. What would you do in my situation? Exactly. I think I remember being a graduate student once.... (Matt, I promise I will get that draft to you soon :)

I will write the full report on my Swiss adventures next week as I still have a few days here so stay tuned. However, I will leave you with a few select photos from the past week.

Weekend sans adventure

2007-07-29T08:12:00.001-07:00

This was my first full weekend in Faro since I moved to Montenegro…coincidentally everyone I know is away this weekend or working furiously to finish some deadline. I am sitting here sipping a cup of white wine, thinking about my week. What a crazy week. I got back late Monday night from paradise (which I now call CP) for 4 straight stressful days of dna and waking at 3am wondering if my samples were degrading as I slept. I just did some more serial dilutions today, this time freezing them between each level, which will hopefully provide a method that will start to give us some repeatable results. I have to admit, this work is a lot harder than I thought. I realize I am a bedroom geneticist (if I am using the term correctly, I wonder how many fictitious terms I have passed on so far in this country?), doing it on the side. This is not something you can do on the side. Everyone I am surrounded by has been doing it for years and actually understands why you add all those products to your PCR reaction…and what P.C.R. actually stands for…(just kidding Filipe). My understanding does not even compare. Give me a Petri dish and some media and I will grow you some kelp, but dna? That is one elusive little molecule. I haven’t thrown in the towel yet though. I know there is a lesson in all of this. It’s a challenge, and I can learn. Who knows, this may lead me in a direction I had not anticipated. But I kind of miss growing kelp right now….

To start off the fim de semana, I popped open a bottle of Nico white wine (thanks Tania!), sliced up some peaches and really nice Portuguese crusty bread, a little olive oil with sea salt. So nice. I am truly having a Jarrett moment. He would be pleased to see me sitting at a table for more than 10 minutes (I made it for 30 min) savoring a glass of wine and a light meal in the late evening sun on my back patio (ignoring the kid staring at me between the points of his tennis match from across the fence), surrounded by my Mac products (ipod and book…what a dork I am, and a hypocrite considering I have always made fun of Mac users. That is, until I bought one, and now I know I was just jealous). Is it wrong to think of your computer as your friend? Is that wine or just loneliness? No really though, I pour my heart out to this laptop and I think it is an unavoidable bond for any writer.

*Just a side note: I am so glad I brought my ipod with me. I almost never listen to it at home. Here I listen to it on my morning walks to school now. On shuffle, which has got to be one of the best features of any music player, but especially for ipod because….well, my ipod really knows me and always plays what I want. For example, the other day on my walk, ipod started off with Iz’s “somewhere over the rainbow”, then went onto cyndy lauper and finished up with a little bluegrass. It was the perfect walk. However, I have had my ipod for almost 4 years now and I guess since I use it so rarely, it has worked great. But now that I am loving it so much, it is starting to make weird clicking sounds and pauses songs randomly. Is this Apple rearing its ugly head? As soon as the ex-PC user sees the light, the device breaks and you find yourself at the Genius Bar looking for answers.

Ok, another side note: Most of you know me as a very clean person, almost obsessively clean. I cannot stand to have empty plates on a table or crumbs on a counter. But, I have never lived alone and I have come to the conclusion that most of my behaviors are driven by guilt because in Portugal I am a slob (well at least by my standards). I leave dishes in the sink sometimes for 2 days! It really doesn’t matter at all because I am the only person who will need the sink. I have no guilt. Quite freeing really. Another thing that is different is that I am getting a ton of exercise here. I jog almost every morning and then do some yoga in my sunny tiled living room and usually bike or walk to school (that’s right Jason, not even a bus anymore!). I have never in my life had the capacity to lose weight while traveling since, as you all know, I experience life primarily via my taste buds. But Portugal is key.

*monetary exchanges have never been made between the author of this blog and Apple (well, except for all the money paid out for the plethora of accessories required to operate an ipod these days).

Sunday afternoon DNA UPDATE: I have bands! The serial freezing worked because I have bands (although faint) for the test primer loci for 13/14 samples I just ran. Filipe's samples still look better than mine but at least I know I have dna that can amplify. Picture to follow.

Cabo de Palos, Spain

2007-07-26T02:19:00.000-07:00

With 2 days advanced warning and a borrowed tent I stepped into Leonardo’s car to make yet another epic journey to the south coast of Spain for scuba diving. This time we would make it all the way to the Mediterranean, hoping to catch some “big blue” sea at a marine reserve on a seamount off Cabo de Palos. Two sandes de queijo e presunto and 1 major traffic jam later, we arrived at our destination, La Manga campgrounds outside of Cabo de Palos. This has to be one of the most spectacular campgrounds I have ever witnessed, emphasis on “spectacle”. There were at least 400 lots in this place, a quarter of them occupied by privately owned make shift vacation homes that had likely endured the construction phase for a good 15 years. Some of these structures were constructed out of plywood covered in glued-on Spanish tiles or stucco. The campground also had two huge pools, a few bars and a meeting house on a lake with a tapas bar and full stage.

We were lucky enough to arrive just in time for dinner hour, which is approximately 12am in Spain. The place was packed with people aged 6 months to 65 years, all speaking in fast elevated tones and munching on garlic smeared octopus bits. But wait, there’s more….entertainment, which consisted of a man on a synthesizer accompanied by two young woman singing “Baila, baila, baila”. One of the singers was wearing some serious FM boots, two leather garter belt (one on each thigh), fishnets and black wool (yes they were actually wool!) hot pants. As if part of the routine, as the first cry of “Baila!” escaped her lips, the stage filled with dancing vacationers, most of them either under 6 or over 60. I watched the skewed mass and well dressed singers with a dropped jaw and was comforted by the fact that the 3 others I had come with all had the same expression. Apparently the glory of mixing dance, FM boots and 5 year olds has not reached Portugal yet…After a few songs we wandered back to our tents in awe. (below: Filipe's feet the next morning swarming with flies)

The next morning we gathered our dive stuff and headed to the pool bar for breakfast. With thoughts of toast loaded with butter and fresh OJ, I watched as 3 men in their 60s guzzled down beer and shots of ouzo. We quickly coursed through Filipe’s marine organism ID books and were on our way. But the boat wasn’t leaving for a few hours so Leonardo and I had some time for some snorkeling at a cove a few blocks from the dive shop. This was my first snorkel in the Med and it was amazing. Clear deep water with lots of little fish, a really large species of seagrass (Posidonia) and boulders. The color of the water was this deep yet transparent blue with an indigo hue, which I assume only occurs in nutrient depleted waters. It was already worth the 9 hour drive.

On the dive boat we headed out to the marine park, anchored and dropped down. I was not prepared for what I would see. The best visibility I have ever experienced, about 120+ ft (which wasn’t even the best it could be), revealed an underwater mountain extending from 30 to infinity ft covered in algae, sponges, swarming with fish and at least 10 divers, all encased in an endless indigo blue sea….then a 60 lb grouper swam by me and I felt like I was going to faint. (note: all underwater shots were taken by Filipe Alberto or Leonardo Mata, aka. dr. kill)

Was this narcosis, the bends or just the most intense visual overstimulation I had experienced at depth? My tight hood and the 76 F water temp did not help my blood pressure infused excitement and I started to notice that I could hear my heartbeat, which is a bit scary for a diver more accustomed to the sound of darth vader-like breathing. I knew I had to calm down. Then, I turned around and my dive buddy was gone…well there was a guy who looked like Leonardo, same fins, same mask but who was the new guy next to him? These two guys must have been one of the 5 other pairs of divers we had been on the boat with. (Note all the divers on the anchor line. With 4 dive boats anchored on the same seamount, the site was fairly crowded near the platform.)

Convinced my buddy had ditched me, I started swimming back to the anchor to get a familiar frame of reference, only to notice that Rita and Filipe were back near the surface. I turned around again to look for my buddy and the Leonardo imposter and his lurking friend were motioning to me wildly from below…the international scuba signal for “where the $%!& are you going?”. Was I doing something wrong? Who was this guy anyway. Clearly they knew something I did not and I had just broken some rule, touched some rare protected alga or unknowingly fin slapped an endangered fish. The lurking friend approached, giving me the ok sign and I thought he must be some sort of scuba police guy who was now sticking with me because he thought I was a narked out tourist….Then Leonardo “returned”, grabbed my vest and signaled for me to follow him. I was mad though, where the hell had he gone anyway!? Overheated and head pounding I hovered above the other divers thinking, “should I just go up? Maybe I’m dying or will soon, that would suck. I better calm down, go sit in some algae. But that dive cop is still following me so I better act cool, swim a straight line” After 11 minutes (I was watching my dive computer very closely) of internal debate I forced myself to closely inspect some algae and forget about the big blue sea 70 ft thick above me…the effect was calming.

We piddled around a small area for another 30 minutes and then ascended. I was totally drained. The waves were rough, the back of the boat was rocking wildly up out of the water and the boat tender was speaking to me in Spanish, flashing his gold tooth at me (yes, he actually had a gold tooth). I still have no idea how I got my gear and body back into the boat. After a bumpy, seawater soaked ride back to the docks, we had a “de-briefing” where I discovered that there was indeed no Leonardo imposter and scuba cops don't exist. He had no idea who the lurker was, the guy had apparently just started following us, making it appear that I was the odd diver out. We set out for dinner in Cartagena promising to be a better dive team the next day. Cartagena is a really nice town just to the west of CP and has some old very well preserved buildings as well as a roman amphitheater that was unearthed by teh bombing during the spanish civil war.

Diving began the next morning with a shore dive in the snorkel spot from the day before. It was even better on the bottom. So many cool, colorful invertebrates and fish. I got to see a really large moray eel with yellow spots, which we tried to cajoule out of its hole. It was just what we all needed after the stress of the last dive. (below: Leonardo's mad scuba skills almost surpass mine)

In the afternoon we went out on the dive boat again, through Atura-sub. We anchored at another spot in the marine park called Bajo de dentro and descended. This time, I was ready for the sight and could not believe what I had missed the day before. The first thing we saw was a 30-member school of grouper 30-60 lbs each. They swam by slowly, ogling us. We followed the school around the seamount where among many other creatures that I am not mentioning, we saw a school of barracuda. It was wonderful to be in the big blue, just cruising around and not feel like shark bait. I was completely relaxed, my buoyancy was perfect and I had mad scuba skills. It was a complete 180 from the day before. I wanted more…turned out we all did and the next day we booked another dive at the same spot. It was the best diving we had all done. (i swear I am not narked in that picture!)

That night we drove up the coast, stopping to wander through a town which had one of the most crowded beach scenes and to see a jazz concert in San Javier featuring Anne Hampton Calloway “the best American jazz voice of today” (not really) and Brazilian composer Ivan Lins. One last night at La Mangapolis and another heavenly dive at Bajo de dentro and we were back on the road again to Portugal. Now I am back at work to face yet another week of poorly amplified DNA. Why can’t vacation be every day?

ps. It may be heartening for some of you to know that the mullet, still only reported from isolated regions in the US and most of Canada, is alive and thriving in southern Spain.

Diving in Tarifa, Spain

2007-07-19T03:42:00.000-07:00

After 4 hours and one of the hottest drives I have ever experienced we arrived at our campsite in Tarifa, Spain where we were hoping to dive for the next 3 days.

Being the kite boarding/wind surfing capital of the world, Tarifa is usually incredibly windy, which poses some difficulties for hopeful divers. Sure enough our first day, the conditions were poor so we could not go out and instead just walked around the town. Tarifa is really beautiful with narrow cobblestone streets and secret courtyards that you could glimpse through slightly open doors.

Being Spain, there were countless very trendy shops, like this Vibram shoes store selling shoes with toes on then and Pygmies, a children's clothing shop.

Our favorite place was Nuno's suggestion, Cafe Azul where we ate in a back room filled with pillows and low tables, perfect for a siesta after a nice meal of fruit and crepes.

Two cool things about Tarifa are that Tangier, Morocco is only 35 minutes away by ferry and there is a castle/fortess that still has a catapault and large cauldrons to pour burning olive oil onto scaling intruders.

To drown our sorrows about not being able to dive, we headed to the beach (also not such a good idea during record wind).

Aside from wind, Tarifa also has a very large sand dune overlooking the bay.

We celebrated our lazy day of wandering at a really nice dinner in town.

The following day was more calm so we did a noon dive at Las Ancoras (anchor) off the light house point. There were so many fish, big ones, since it is a marine park and the topography was high relief rock walls with deep sandy channels in between. It was a really nice dive. Rita and Nuno had to get back to Faro so Filipe and I met up with another post doc, Onno, to do some seagrass sampling on Monday. It also happened to be a religious fiesta day and everyone had gathered at the harbor, apparently to watch local kids struggle to make it to the end of this wooden pole over the water that was being slathered with grease. The incentive appeared to be large fish hanging at the end of the pole that were wrapped in old looking plastic bags.....yum.

Don't let the dry suite fool you, Onno did his previous work in the North Sea at -5 to 0 Celsius only wearing a 7ml wetsuit. The views from the boat of Tarifa were great and eventually Africa appeared out of the fog (background of some pics below). We also saw a green turtle swimming by, but of course I missed it while fumbling with my camera.

Filipe points to Africa....

It was a hot day and very calm conditions which is a good thing since we spent about 3 hours on the boat searching for an elusive cymodocea seagrass bed. We finally found it and did the dive to collect tissue samples for Onno and Filipe's genetic work. Then there was still time and the conditions were still good so we did a dive to see the Laminaria kelp species at 80 ft. This was really cool for me since I do not know the kelps out here at all. As soon as we climbed back on board and before we even had a chance to remove our hoods, we were each handed a glass of beer by the captain....and a display of nice bread, cheese and proscuitto. It was a great end to the dive, although not very re-hydrating.

We hit the road after a few coffees and a second lunch on land, made it home pretty late. However, I really did not get enough of driving Spain's highways so tomorrow we will set out again on the open road, but this time we are heading to Cabo Palos on the Med about 9 hrs east from here. The diving is supposed to be amazing and I just pray there is no wind!

ps. I hosted a wine tasting party last night for some people at the lab. We tried about 10 bottles and my favorite was a red (tinto) from Alentejo. I also made my first squid dish ever, from scratch!

More Birding

2007-07-12T01:17:00.000-07:00

This time João took me to Quinta do Lago (lake farm) for some evening birding and walking. He brought his telescope, through which we were able to view a flock of flamingos. What an ugly faced-bird that is! We also saw a ton of bee eaters, some nesting storks, magpies, a fringe-headed something or other that was really cool and colorful through the binocs but looked like just a brown bird with the naked eye, and a whole variety of LBBs (birder lingo for little brown birds like larks and starlings)…I know I am about to get am email from João outlining several mistakes in the above list…bring it!

Anyway, the walk was really quite nice, through old farm fields next to salt mining ponds. There were some dogs “guarding” the property, but they really just wanted to play. The rest of the shots are around the farm ending with a very large salt pile that apparently is clandestinely used for practice by rock climbers.

We got these shots of the nesting storks through the binocs….very technical and as you can see, some quality images.

The last stop was along this very fancy golf course where there is a “birder hut” overlooking a large pond that is filled with turns, ducks and coots.

Stay tuned for more dive adventures in Tarifa, Spain. We leave tomorrow!