30 November 2008

Stuff Jen Likes III

College bookstores.  College towns, in general.  I spent 24 years of my life in college towns, and I just dig them.

Orion.  Okay, it's probably everybody's favorite constellation.  But I like it.  He says winter is on the way.

Being greeted by a kiss on the cheek.  I've noticed an uptick in the number of friends who do this, and I love it.  It's very continental, which is immediately appealing, plus it's just a nice variation on the usual hug.

Maple.  I love maple-flavored everything, I don't know why I've never been to Vermont.

Green bananas.  Well,yellow, but with a definite green tone.  Once they are all yellow, I've no use for them.  At least not until they're blackened for banana bread.

Large spoons for cereal.

Fried green peas.


Cupcakes.  I know they're riding a crest of popularity, but I liked them before they were hip.  See also: swing dancing

Chips and dips.  Pita and hummus.  Potato and French onion.  Tortilla and refried beans.

Classical guitar.

The shimmering of long grass on a sunny breezy day.  See also: the silvery undersides of maple leaves against a stormy grey sky.

Gewurztraminer.

Bowls.  I'm technically on a dishware purchasing moratorium, because I can't help myself.  Plus, bowls are more useful than coffee mugs or plates, if you ask me.

Heart prints.  Cute valentine hearts, not anatomical drawings.


Christmas music.  Christmas, in general, but definitely the music.

Cranberries.

The scent of tomato vines.



29 November 2008

Winter Park Farmers Market

What an enjoyable morning!  Beautiful weather and excellent treats.  The Winter Park market is the closest central-Florida  approximation to the Monterey Market - if not in size and produce offerings, then at least in people-watching opportunities and dog-friendliness.

What my ten dollars bought:
A gigantic bag of kettle corn1 - still hot from the kettle
A carton of yellow tomatoes - you'll see them in the corner of one picture
A tomato plant - only a dollar, so worth the risk
A swanky Robert Talbott tie - from the benefit shop down the road




1 Where can I find "mushroom popcorn" - the kernels that explode into the round puff-balls, instead of the typical butterfly shape?  I can find wholesalers, but I just want a couple pounds for home use...

28 November 2008

All I Want for Christmas

Once again, in the spirit of the crass commercialism that is Black Friday, it's all I want for Christmas!

Prayer of St. Francis bracelet

Baker's Edge pan - it's all corner pieces!

Wall poster Chart of the Nuclides.

"I'm So Adjective, I Verb Nouns" t-shirt.  Mens L.

Jemma Kidd I-Tech Eyeliner in Abstract

Nars Eyeshadow Duos in Caravaggio and Rated R

Lush Snow Fairy Shower Gel

Cake Turntable

Fat Daddio's 3"-Depth Square Cake Pans - 3", 6", 9", 12", 15", 18"

Cake Wrecks refrigerator magnet

Nikon 18-55mm lens

Nikon lens cap (since the Sydney Harbour Bridge ate mine)

Kenko extension tubes (a cheaper alternative to a macro lens)

Personalized 3x5 cards

ticket (MCO-EWR) for Spring Break.

A fellowship to get a Chemistry Education PhD.  :)

27 November 2008

Happy Thanksgiving!

I was tempted to
liveblog Thanksgiving preparations again this year, but the preparations are just not terrifically interesting.  

I'm in the midst of mincing vegetables for stuffing, and the roll dough is rising, but there are no grandiose preparations this year - or, at least, they are somewhat routine.  

Our turkey is already cooked - we let the local Kiwanis club smoke it - so it has been fragrancing the kitchen with every opening of the refrigerator door since yesterday afternoon.  But all that needs to be done is carving and reheating.  I still haven't had the mythical fried turkey, but I really want to try it.  Next year, perhaps.  Seems like a big outlay of cash for a fryer and oil, though.

Cranberries will come from a can - as they should - but I decided to forego the fresh cranberry pie this year, because I suspect I'd be the only one eating it.  I might mix some fresh ber
ries in to a few of the rolls.  Pecans too.  The pumpkin and pecan pies are done and resting peacefully (for now - their time will come!) on the counter next to me.  The pumpkin is very pretty - but it looks like my mother forgot to sprinkle nutmeg on top before baking.  That's my favorite part.  Drat.  It's just not the same if you sprinkle after baking.

I am going to try baking potatoes before mashing them, to see if less water in the potatoes makes for fluffier mash.  But it's at least a half hour before I need to even think about turning the oven on.  (Aiming for wheels-up on this dinner at 400p)

I don't want to chop the apples for the stuffing because they'll brown.   Green bean ca
sserole is going to be dump-and-stir-and-bake.  I'd like to roast some broccoli, but that doesn't need preparation just yet, either.  So, we're in a bit of a holding pattern right this second.

Meanwhile, I suppose I can take time to give thanks.  I'm thankful mostly for people.  So if you're in my life, you're on the list.  For (or maybe because I am) an introverted only child, I value my relationships beyond words.

Okay, I'm off to scrub potatoes and trim broccoli.  And maybe post a picture of the pies. 
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!  I love you all.

22 November 2008

Restaurant Review

I picked my parents up from the Sanford airport last night - a strange little airport, with lots of British low-cost carriers and signs that warn visitors to look left before crossing - and found a cute little restaurant in an area of town I've never before visited.  

I'm going to start a new tag of posts - reviews.  I'm always quick to give an opinion, and it's good to keep a collection of local places worth visiting.

Two Blondes and a Shrimp
112 E. First St.  Sanford, FL

I found reviews for it in Chowhound.com, and it looked reasonably-priced and had a wide enough menu to please anyone.  Eclectic little restaurant with bar and patio for music.  Quirky waitstaff, exceptionally friendly.

We started with Candied Bacon and Texas Nachos.  The candied bacon was, well, meat candy: brown-sugar glazed crispy bacon strips with a touch of black pepper.  The nachos were usual fare, if not a little over-sour-creamed (even if you like the stuff, which I don't) on cheapy tortilla chips, but with barbecue instead of mexi-beef.  A nice, sweet touch.  Fresh, fluffy biscuits for the table.  The appetizer special last nightwas Oysters Rockefeller, but I couldn't convince anyone else into them.  But I was happy with the bacon!

I had Pecan Chicken, with molasses and pecan crust (skin-on, unfortunately); grilled asparagus; and the Grits-of-the-Day, tomato-basil flavor.  The grits were good for a few bites, but the flavor was just overpowering after that -  it's the same phenomenon as pumpkin ice cream.  I just dig that they have grits du jour, I couldn't pass it up.  Wish I'd had more asparagus instead - it had great flavor, and just the right tenderness.

My dining companions had the same Pecan Chicken, but with garlic mashed potatoes and applesauce (over-cinnamoned for my taste); Bourbon Pork Medallions with corn-on-the-cob (tasted almost... brined, and looked like it had been left in the field for a while - unless it's some kind of heirloom corn) and the same asparagus; and Cola-Glazed Baby Back Ribs with the corn and hoppin' john (white rice topped with black-eyed peas).  We couldn't bear the thought of dessert after all that, though the server did tempt with key lime pie.  Next time!

In all, a good value and a friendly little restaurant with good live-music potential.  
4 flamingoes of 5, particularly if you're picking someone up at the airport.


15 November 2008

Standardizations



With our 'merican sensitivity to "difficult" math, you might think we'd be less reluctant to adopt some standards that would make our lives a little easier.  I'm talking about a conversion to the metric system.   Measuring in mL, cm, and g would take a little bit of work at first - some rewriting of recipes, some new traffic signs, and a couple generations who would internally translate mL back to cups.   Fine.   But the mark of fluency is the ability of think in a new language without internally translating.  We could get there.  Besides, there is a lot of appeal in powers of ten.  I love conversion factors more than most, but even I dig the quick conversion from grams to kilograms or millimeters to centimeters.  1 mi = 5280 ft. 1 gal = 128 oz. or is it 96? 16 c.?  And is a cup 8 oz?  See what I mean?  I know the answers to these, but go ahead - ask ten people on the street, and good luck.

Why the stubborn adherence to the arbitrary?  I mean, every other country in the world uses paper with a fixed aspect ratio; it just makes sense for enlarging/reducing.  Why do we have to make it difficult for ourselves with legal and letter?

I teach in metric because it's the standard of international science.  But I can only do so much to prompt the revolution.  Can I get some help here, please?





Originally drafted 7 July 2008

13 November 2008

Playbill

Jennifer (Witch 1).  Jennifer is happy to be appearing on stage again, this time in The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged.  Previously cast in motherly roles, she plays one of Macbeth's witches - a role for which she says teaching has prepared her.  Favorite roles include Debbie in American Beauty, Messenger in The Wiz, and orchestral credits in Lessons and Carols.  Love and kisses to her adoring public!

12 November 2008

Tree Frog


I took a picture of this frog on our bathroom window two months ago. It seems a nice accompaniment to Jess's post. I didn't name it. Maybe I should.

05 November 2008

On the Nature of Incremental Change

I've recently seen photographs of several friends and acquaintances I haven't seen, in person, in at least ten years.  (mostly a result of certain social-networking sites)  Clicking through their photos, I'm struck by how much they look like grownups.  I'm not saying they haven't aged well - it's just that they don't look like they're in high school or college anymore.  My mental image of them hasn't changed since I last saw them, but obviously, we've all gotten a decade older.   Same thing happens with my cousins - and they're young, which amplifies the phenomenon - my mental images of them are as toddlers, but they're in upper elementary school now. Anyhow, when I look at pictures of myself, I don't marvel at how different I appear from ten, fifteen years ago. I mean, I know I've changed, but I've been present for the changes.  It isn't until I see a photo from 1997 and I can't help but notice how much younger I appear.  And that's not entirely true either.  When I look at that photo from 1997, what catches my eye is how much younger the other people appear.  Only then do I think, "oh, yeah, me too".

I don't mean for this post to come across as a lament of the aging process - I don't have a problem with growing older.  What's interesting is my tendency to not age-progress individuals, and how surprised I am when I see that they're adults now.  It's clearly a function of how often I see someone.  Incremental change on the order of days or months is significantly smaller (and less noticeable) than that on the scale of years, even decades.
The shift of plates goes unnoticed until a dramatic event.
There's another strange time phenomenon going on in my head. I occasionally manage to neglect a four-year chunk of my life, the California Years.  From time to time, I simply forget we lived there.  I remember the people and the places, but sometimes, when I'm going through my mental timeline, I find I just close the gap between college and Florida.  This happened most noticeably the year I spent advising college-bound high-school seniors.  The more I talked about college and thought about what it was like to go off to college, the time gap between now and then started to shrink; when I caught myself, it was with marvel that there was a chunk of four years (and even a couple years here) that I just glazed right over as though they were insignificant.  Which they weren't.
Time is a transparent film, stretching and shrinking.
I was asked recently, on the occasion of my ninth wedding anniversary, how my marriage had changed over time.   It was a more difficult question than I expected it to be.   I know there has been change, but I can't articulate it, and I certainly can't divorce it from our own individual changes.  It's a kind of relative-motion frame-of-reference problem, because our relationships evolve as we are changing, too.
A person walks at a speed of 2 m/s relative to a moving sidewalk. If the sidewalk is moving at 3 m/s relative to the ground, what is the person's velocity relative to an outside observer?
I couldn't answer her - there seem to be too many variables to come up with a meaningful answer, relative to an outside observer.


[Originally drafted 25 July 2008]

03 November 2008

Typecast

I have long been interested in personality types - particularly Myers-Briggs - ever since I was first "typed" at a cheesy leadership conference my freshman year of college.  Having never had a psychology course, I was amazed by the information, insight into why I do things the way I do them, and why I think the way I think.  [Sure, I'm not one for taxonomy and labels, and I realize these things can be abused, but it sure is a handy springboard for understanding people and how to relate to them - inclusive of one's own self.  And, sometimes labels do help make sense of that which is highly abstract, scattered, and complex.]  Of course, it was well-timed - the kick-off to the awakening to self that everyone seems to undergo as they move away from their parents and begin to discover who they really are.  Reading through the description of my "type" for the first time, I was floored by the statements that so clearly articulated what I knew to be true about myself.  I had always been introspective, but here I had psychologists pinpointing exactly what I couldn't gather together on my own.  It's hard not to fall in love with something (or someone) who helps you understand yourself - so I've always been fascinated by research into personality traits.

I have been helping someone figure out what they want to do with their life, and this seemed like a natural place to start.  First, to get to know this person a little better, and second, to help narrow down an infinite spectrum of possibilities.  Without doing a formal evaluation, this person appears to fall into the same type as me.  Which is kind of funny.   Reading through information on personality type for the first time in a while, I started playing the game in which I predict my friends' types.  I think I have an obvious ISTJ in my midst, and a clear INTP.  The rest are surprisingly tough to call.

Anyhow, in the interest of full disclosure, I trend towards INFJ, though I sometimes exhibit tendencies of ENFJ, and often toe the line of ISFJ.  All of these support that teaching just feels natural to me.  I spent several years as a research scientist, and in that work I was happily able to reconcile my love of science with my affinity for aesthetics and intuition (what other science but weather can best use one's intuition!), it just wasn't a natural fit, not like teaching is.   I've been turning over some ideas lately: the option of getting  back into pure science, or perhaps furthering my own education - and if so, opting for pure science or science education?  So maybe this rediscovery, the confrontation with my own personality, will end up being just as useful for me as for the person I'm advising.


Resonant Traits  (From www.personalitypage.com)
I know that, like a horoscope, one can read descriptions of any personality type and think "wow, that's SO me!", but these seem a lot more specific than Gemini, Virgo, the Year of the Dragon.  So, here, I will offer up the descriptors that seem to blink in neon on the pages for me.

INFJ

Artistic and creative, they live in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities.

They put a lot of energy into identifying the best system for getting things done, and constantly define and re-define the priorities in their lives. On the other hand, INFJs operate within themselves on an intuitive basis which is entirely spontaneous. They know things intuitively, without being able to pinpoint why, and without detailed knowledge of the subject at hand. 

INFJs have uncanny insight into people and situations. They get "feelings" about things and intuitively understand them. 

the INFJ themself does not really understand their intuition at a level which can be verbalized. Consequently, most INFJs are protective of their inner selves, sharing only what they choose to share when they choose to share it. They are deep, complex individuals, who are quite private and typically difficult to understand. INFJs hold back part of themselves, and can be secretive.

INFJs are concerned for people's feelings, and try to be gentle to avoid hurting anyone. They are very sensitive to conflict, and cannot tolerate it very well. 

They believe in constant growth, and don't often take time to revel in their accomplishments. They have strong value systems, and need to live their lives in accordance with what they feel is right. 

they have very high expectations of themselves, and frequently of their families. 
They have high expectations of their children, and push them to be the best that they can be. 

They have a natural affinity for art, and many excel in the sciences, where they make use of their intuition. INFJs can also be found in service-oriented professions. 


ENFJ

ENFJ's tend to be more reserved about exposing themselves than other extraverted types. Although they may have strongly-felt beliefs, they're likely to refrain from expressing them if doing so would interfere with bringing out the best in others. Because their strongest interest lies in being a catalyst of change in other people, they're likely to interact with others on their own level, in a chameleon-like manner, rather than as individuals.

They enjoy being the center of attention, and do very well in situations where they can inspire and lead others, such as teaching.

ENFJs do not like dealing with impersonal reasoning. They don't understand or appreciate its merit, and will be unhappy in situations where they're forced to deal with logic and facts without any connection to a human element. Living in the world of people possibilities, they enjoy their plans more than their achievements. They get excited about possibilities for the future, but may become easily bored and restless with the present.

ENFJs have a strong need for close, intimate relationships, and will put forth a lot of effort in creating and maintaining these relationships. They're very loyal and trustworthy once involved in a relationship.

An ENFJ who has not found their place in the world is likely to be extremely sensitive to criticism, and to have the tendency to worry excessively and feel guilty. 


ISFJ

The ISFJ feels a strong sense of responsibility and duty. They take their responsibilities very seriously, and can be counted on to follow through. For this reason, people naturally tend to rely on them. The ISFJ has a difficult time saying "no" when asked to do something, and may become over-burdened. In such cases, the ISFJ does not usually express their difficulties to others, because they intensely dislike conflict, and because they tend to place other people's needs over their own. The ISFJ needs to learn to identify, value, and express their own needs, if they wish to avoid becoming over-worked and taken for granted.

ISFJs need positive feedback from others. In the absence of positive feedback, or in the face of criticism, the ISFJ gets discouraged

They are truly warm and kind-hearted, and want to believe the best of people. They value harmony and cooperation, and are likely to be very sensitive to other people's feelings. People value the ISFJ for their consideration and awareness, and their ability to bring out the best in others by their firm desire to believe the best.

ISFJs have a rich inner world that is not usually obvious to observers. They constantly take in information about people and situations that is personally important to them, and store it away. This tremendous store of information is usually startlingly accurate, because the ISFJ has an exceptional memory about things that are important to their value systems. 

ISFJs have a very clear idea of the way things should be, which they strive to attain. They value security and kindness, and respect traditions and laws. They tend to believe that existing systems are there because they work. Therefore, they're not likely to buy into doing things in a new way, unless they're shown in a concrete way why its better than the established method.

The ISFJ has an extremely well-developed sense of space, function, and aesthetic appeal. For that reason, they're likely to have beautifully furnished, functional homes. They make extremely good interior decorators. This special ability, combined with their sensitivity to other's feelings and desires, makes them very likely to be great gift-givers - finding the right gift which will be truly appreciated by the recipient.


02 November 2008

Falling Back

If I ever run for public office, my platform will be abolishing Daylight Savings Time

I'm quite serious.

It's 630p, but it looks like 1030p.  Which is doing nothing to help my Sunday-night-before-term-grades-are-due panic.  Never mind that everything with a clock was programmed to change two weeks ago.

01 November 2008

On Keeping a Notebook


Yesterday, a friend mentioned a student of his who once began writing in a notebook - specifically, writing everything that needed to be said that day in the event he didn't have another.  At first, that sounds noble and smart, however, it also seems fatally overwhelming.  I try to do that while on travel - to record everything that I saw or that happened (plus my reaction) in my travel journals.  But it takes me hours every night to record the day's adventures.  Usually I reach critical mass after about five days, and I start leaving big gaps when I save the writing for the next day... and for the next...  I tried to stave this off on my last trip by at least making short notes on the days I didn't feel like writing full entries, so I wouldn't later forget what to write.  I had the intention of synthesizing my quick notes into longer writings, but here I am, four months later, with just a random collection of notes.  And this isn't limited to my travel journals.  I have loads of notebooks and envelopes and glove compartments full of scribblings and cryptic notes, filed away for later development.  But I rarely revisit them.  And when I do, it's never to write them into something more formal; it's more like visiting a museum of me, in which there are no pieces to display - all that's there are the curator's notes on the wall.

Why this drive to record all detail?  It's part of my personality, I suppose.  Like Didion, I want to remember what it was to be me at that time and place.  And I have this compulsion to record every detail - because without the context, the significance of a particular thought is sadly diminished.  I am decidedly unabridged.  I often give up telling stories because I can't adequately Cliffs-Notes it for others to easily digest.  For my audience to understand an event, I have to convey every minute detail and most of the back-story.  A six-sentence story for another person is a six-minute yarn for me.  

I leaf through these notebooks and rediscover these fragments of memory that had been lost to time.  Maybe I'm the only one who cares, in which case, why am I writing all this detail for myself to enjoy later?  Or, I'm making field notes in some experiment, and eventually, I will be able to see patterns and draw conclusions and will be glad to have a rich collection of data.  I want everyone to understand the complexity of a situation.  Apparently, this extends to my future self, with how I write in my notebook.  Presumably, my notes are only for me, but I still often feel like I write for an audience outside my head.  And here, on this blog, I have a faceless audience for whom I am writing - which perhaps provides the impetus to bring all those scrawled scraps of memory into some cohesive work.  But does someone else actually need to read it for it to have worth?  Would I have any internal motivation to collect notes into something coherent if I didn't have an audience?  Probably not.

Perhaps the volume of detail I feel compelled to record is to stave off the natural paring and preparation of information for long-term storage.  The brain distills things down into a small remnant of memory, and there's no predicting what that will be.  Zoe Heller, through a character in her novel Notes on a Scandal, says this of memory-crafting: 
I keep staring at things, willing myself to remember them: the faded blue dressing gown that Sheba is always leaving draped across the sofa; the antique Moroccan tiles in the kitchen; the velvet-clad hangers in the closets.  Of course, memory is not really as obedient a faculty as that.  You can't consciously decide what is going to adhere.  Certain things may strike you at the time as memorable, but memory only laughs at your presumption.  'Oh, I'm never going to forget this,' you say to yourself when you visit the Sacre-Coeur at sunset.  And years later, when you try to summon up an image of the Sacre-Coeur, it's as cold an abstract as if you'd only ever seen it on a postcard.  If anything unlocks the memory of this house for me, years from now, it will be something - some tiny, atmospheric fragment - of which I'm not even aware at the moment.  I know this, and yet I still persist in making my little inventory, trying to nail down my recollections.
I tend to remember overtones, not details.  My reaction to a situation, not the specifics of the situation itself.  How people say something, not the words they say.  How I feel about something, not the something.  This is also why I'm terrible at describing plots of stories or films - all I can remember is my overall impression, or what I was thinking at the time.

It's difficult enough to craft one's own memories; it has to be impossible to manufacture one's own legacy.  Sam Beam implores a longtime love to remember him in a very specific way.  I am fascinated by things that others remember.  Reminiscing about grad school with a friend last weekend, she recounted a story about the two of us to her son.  On my own, I never would have remembered the situation she described, but of course I knew it once she mentioned it.  It was neither good nor bad, but of all the possible memories of us, it's interesting that that particular incident is part of her inventory.  I am loathe to say I want to control what others think of me, but I will admit I want that impression to be accurate.  It bothers me greatly when people misinterpret me.  As in the song, can we really instruct someone to remember us in some way, or, for that matter, even maintain the same catalog of memories?  Should we even care that different curators organize the collection differently - the prized acquisitions in our own exhibits are relegated to an out-of-the-way room in someone else's.  I wonder whether others would be as surprised (as I am at theirs) at my memories of them, and what triggers them.  

I certainly want to be remembered fondly for specific events.  I certainly want to be remembered seldomly for the times when I was not the best version of myself.  I edit my own memories over and over, leaving a tight, streamlined work that pleases me.  Do others do the same?  I own several pair of rose-colored glasses - ever the idealist, I usually look back on things and see the good.  Even in a current situation, one in which I really want to see and remember the bad because I think it will make it easier to let go later, I am having a really difficult time doing so.  Almost as if the harder I try, the stronger the good shines; the rosier things crowd everything else out of view.

For someone who teaches a laboratory science, I sure have no clear need for objective accuracy.