livewire24

So its been ahwile since I posted, who am I kidding, exactly 5 people read this blog apart from myself, some of them are coerced into reading it by me. But anyway, I convince myself that it doesn't matter, because I am writing for myself, in the end. (The good part about being a Gemini is that you can talk yourself into circles of convoluted thought and agree with the two most conflicting bits with equal ease and a sense of being satisfied with both arguments :P)

Anyhow, it looks like Mommy fever is all around. A lot of people I know are in varying stages of the motherhood process- the 'just found out' kind, the its almost D day kind, the its been 6 months kind and so on.

I find myself tiptoeing on egg shells around these people. I am alternately fascinated and distressed (note the euphemism) by the process. There are parts, no, the whole of it makes no sense to me. Why such a one sided process (read momentary male involvement) should have been preserved evolutionarily (childbirth is as arduous as it was millions of years ago made bearable/feasible only by medical advances)is a question that haunts me each time I think about it. If survival of our species was so important then you would think we would've developed some form of progressive hermaphroditic status....at least it would be beneficial, I think. But, I guess, we would've gone through the natural resources at an exponential rate compared to the current rate.

But, given the nature of the process, why do so many women go through it. You'd think that the trials indigenous to the process would be enough of a deterrent for females having multiple pregnancies. Then, maybe medical science is to blame for making the process more bearable.

I'm sure that mothers-to-be and current mothers did not overrate the process as much as I have and I do not doubt that the process is totally worth it and maybe many times more, too (ok, honestly, I do doubt it :(, probably makes me shallow, but hey, nothing new about that )

All the same, from this side of the fence, this one time, the grass ain't all that green on the other side ;)

You can look forward to:
1)9 months of cramped style - read restrictions on food/alcohol
2)9 months of instructions - from everyone, pregnant and non-pregnant, male and female, family and friends, non-family and non-friends
3)X hours of labor - natural or induced, with or without an epidural
4)X hours of loss of modesty - your privates are on display for everyone from the ward boy to the newbie intern and a bunch of nurses/doctors/possibly family whose faces you may want to punch
5)5 months of loss of control over bodily fluids - tears (pre and postpartum mood swings), pee (growing pressure on bladder plus increased volume of fluid from a second individual), leaky boobs (milk let downs are the stuff that horror stories are made up of)
5)Half a lifetime's worth of being pushed around by another being... - ok, this maybe over-dramatic, from inside the womb and once on the outside as well..


At least, points 1-5 are crosses that the female has to bear alone....I think its time natural selection favored some other form of procreation

I think pregnancy triggers a hormonal change in you that allows you to view the process in a favorable manner, i.e. allows you to delude yourself that there is no greater happiness than the bundle of joy in your arms....That your life would have had a void had it not been for this being that you created. Maybe the process of reproduction allows you to enjoy the feeling of 'God' for a brief period (this theory does not hold true if you are believer of natural selection :P). Maybe the process of creating a being like yourself gives you a feeling of power, of continuum, because your genes have now been passed on...maybe it is nothing more than a form of ego, a need to leave your trace, (good or bad) on the world. Maybe it provides a sense of fulfillment for people who do not have avenues to satisfy that need. Maybe it provides a welcome break in a boring life or a fizzling relationship - a new project to keep both parties invested for the period of half a lifetime, hopefully.
I'm sure that it is a combination of all or some of the reasons quoted above.

However, at this time,since I can safely say that none of the above reasons applies to me, I am inclined to say....no, thank you, wouldn't touch it (pregnancy and childbirth) with a barge pole...

In the same breath, I hasten to add, lest I offend the sizeable population of mothers and mothers to be....mommies all over, I respect and laud your choices and stand in awe and fear of your ballsy courage....
Go forth and multiply :P and do give your husbands a hard time in the process....

Wonder what it is about me that attracts strange guys. Make that strange, older guys or strange younger guys, never nice, same aged guys.

Honestly, its getting a little old now. Its getting to that point where I'm tired of having to think what it is that they think I will deliver.

And honestly, I don't do anything to deserve this kind of interest, I definitely don't care to dress well, I don't care to gush/smile too much, if anything I'm ascerbic and sarcastic or cantankerous (and apparently this is a turn on, because....??? ). I am cordial, not overfriendly. I speak at best about 3 sentences and somewhere in the time span of 5-10 minutes give out pheromones that addles brains??? Come on, give me a break, weird dudes!!

Why can't I have one attribute that I can take advantage of? Well, hopefully, in my later years, I can be the 'Cougar'.
There's a new television series by the same name, I believe, which has a much older woman wrapping nubile, young men around her thumb with her charming ways. If I learnt how to control this freak talent, then at least I can make some good out of it. Like force a ton of people to turn vegetarian, or to recycle plastic, or donate to animal welfares...... :P
Sigh! I will never make a good Cougar.....

On the note of charities and animals, and welfares, I have to say this.....I hate PETA and other like extremist organizations.

On April 22nd, as I walked out of my workplace, I was greeted by picketing persons holding posters against dissections, against animal testing, so on and so forth.

I have often found myself to be in one of those 'which side am I on' conflicts, with one half of my bum sticking out on either side. I love animals and abhor any kind of cruelty. I am a strict vegetarian and within my economic and practical limits, do what I can to avoid products dervied by hurting animals, in that sense, I am very pragmatic. But I also work in biomedical sciences and I am proud to be a part of its academic community.

Before I started doing what I do today, I hesitated, thought long and hard about what I was setting myself up for, a whole lot of heartache and difficulties. But, it appeared to me that if I was to make a case of being on the one side or the other, I better have a darn good idea of what I am obstructing, what I am asking people to give up. And now, having worked for the past couple years in this field, I have to say that I am proud. Proud of being a part of a community that is subject to strictest of regulations/ legislations/penalities/scrutinies. Proud of upholding standards whose only justification is ethical treatment and the absolute necessity. And proud of being in a field that has foresight and hindsight.

Both of which extremist animal welfare organizations lack. Are these people willling to forgo the benefits of modern medical care? Are they willing to forsake their families and friends to the vagaries of fate instead of getting that bypass surgery or cancer chemotherapy? Are they willing to give up the comfort that paracetamol/aspirin provides for fever? Because all of these were made possible only because of animals.
You can give all the statistics you want for the number of drugs that never make it to the market after testing on animals versus the small percentage that does. But, the important part is that almost all of the drugs available out there only made it there after a large number of animals proved them to be safe, to be effective, to have lower side effects.
Are they so short sighted that you do not realize that for synthetic insulin to be prepared there had to have been porcine and bovine insulin first, and that today's discoveries in turn may hold the key for tomorrow? The same goes for medical procedures....had they not been tried, tested and practiced on animal models, we would have a lot less faith and a lot more litigation against doctors.

So, until the time that PETA and other animal welfare members willingly offer themselves up as biomedical research subjects and force the powers that be to accept human experimentation, a reality check is in order!
I'm sure that we, as researchers, can make sure that we extend the same ethical treatment to animals and to humans as well.

On the other hand, I do not much care for the less than necessary cosmetic industry or meat/leather/silk industry. On all of these, I do support the doing away of any kind of animal testing, with the exception of grassroots level business whose livelihoods depend upon these ventures (except if they can be rehabilitated satisfactorily).

Anyhow, musings of the day, I guess....

Its 45 minutes into earth hour. I'm sitting in the dark in my living room at Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh. Just came back from a walk on Murray Ave and to my disappointment, all the restaurants, supermarket, local eateries, pharmacies, houses have their lights on. There's almost no sign of anybody even being aware or caring about this.
Spoke to friends in Oakland, no signs of darkness there either. So much for Pennsylvania joining the Earth Hour movement.

Tried to convince friends in Austin to switch of their lights at 8:30PM, since they are an hour behind.
I hope they do it......

Oh well, I tried and will do so next year, too.  I do hope it makes a difference somewhere down the line..... :)

Until then, all of you who did not participate in earth hour and are generally not environmentally conscious:
                                                                        'Losers!!! You suck!!!!!'

My baby, Crypto, is unwell...he is 12 years old and has come down with a severe case of jaundice.. He has not eaten much in 2 days..and is not co-operative in taking his medications. The doctor says that he has severe jaundice with only a 10% chance of making it. I fear that this is the beginning of the end...and I am a million miles away...able only to listen to my parents' worries and tears..
Crypto doesn't know that he is ill.. he just thinks food is not that interesting anymore.. He still barks at everybody who walks on the street in front of our house... he still tries to make it for every walk...with a little less zeal than before.. he still tries to rule what he will and will not eat and silently bullies my parents' into giving him his favorite treat, only to realize that suddenly its not as appetizing...He doesn't understand why everybody gives him different things to eat all through the day...only wishing he would eat some more
He has never been this seriously ill before...he is not in pain/suffering now...he has had a decently happy life...no major ups and downs..a family that never left him for 12 years...not even for a vacation... a family that refused to crate him and put up with his bad behavior more than just occasionally...a family that managed their life around his schedule..around his potty breaks and lunch needs....

You'd think I should be able to seek some solace in all of this and be comforted..but I can't...

I can't get over that I may not see him to say goodbye..that he won't know one last time, how much I love him and how much he means to me, and how much I miss him...how he holds a special place in each of my family member's hearts. How I may never be able to hold his huge head again or watch him bark his stentorian bark from his perch...how I may not be able to watch him scare the crap out of everybody.. that I may not be able to take yet another adoring picture of him...that I may not be able to watch him beg for another dog treat..may never be able to watch him smile, watch him look sheepish and guilty..watch him scoff at my endless supply of affection fo him, watch him wriggle out of another bearhug...

For four thousand three hundred and eighty days he has never once been alone... not a day has gone by when he has been away from us...when he was just a puppy, he had a fractured leg...and nobody thought he would amount to much, but we fell in love with him and got him anyway...we thought we were doing him a favor....how misconceived our notions were..how grandiose our thoughts...It was he who received us, it was he who accepted us and made us his own... yet it was Crypto never gave up on us....he was always there, a familiar fixture in the house...a comforting presence in the dark of the darkest nights..

When I came to this country and went back for the first time to surprise my parents, after a year and a half in the dead of the night...he recognized my arrival before anybody else....his was the first happy face at the window...his was the first bearhug that I got...his were the first kisses I recieved... How can I go back to none of that? How can I walk into that house and not see him on his familiar place on our couch....How can I deal with him not being around...

Hang on, my baby...hang on some more for us.. You are my pride, my joy......stay around some more...we can get through this and beat fate...like we always have....

I think that a name is a very important first impression creator. And its sad that one has no choice to exercise in the word that one adopts as one's own, as one's identity. I think people should wait for personalities, traits to appear before they name somebody as XYZ. Because more often than not, it may not fit. Imagine a vicious, loud Namrata or a timid and shy Rudra, or more closer to home, a non-singer Sangeetha.

Its unfair, growing up everybody expected tinkling bells, and dulcet tones to fall out of my mouth every time I opened it, instead were confronted by shrill, ear-irritating shrieks. I have lost count of the number of times, some obnoxious maami or maama have asked me, 'Ohoo....., Sangeetha - va...nalla peru...paatu paada therimo? Enga oru paatu paadi kaatu'. (Oho, so your name is Sangeetha, Nice name, come, let us hear you sing a song for us). And so for no fault of mine, I was expected to defend my title of "Sangeetha", every single time. It was as if people expected that I spend days honing and training my voice, to be worthy of my name.

I mean, what were my parents thinking, that I cried in dulcet notes and hence, I'd have a good voice? And so, in class 5, I found myself carted off to a carnatic vocal class, where we spent the better part of the evening (s)training our recalcitrant vocal chords into the semblance of a tune. All the while, my attention would be diverted towards the setting sun, ending moments of evening play time. Not to mention, that I now had another set of exams to prepare for and pass. And, of course, when the extended family found out that I knew (?) to sing, I was inundated with more requests than ever. In a typical tamil family, there is never a dearth of opportunties to sing and showcase your talent. If you are the kind of person who enjoys showcasing your voice in front of audiences, big and small, young and old, then being born in a tamil family should be your first ambition. From aarthi's, to kolu's, to kalyanams with the nalang's, there is never too long between succesive performances.
So, you can imagine my plight, I had to work very hard at making myself scarce before any of the maamis caught hold of me. I even had a grand-uncle who would tell me that he longed to hear me sing, and would give me anything I desired if I so obliged him. Since there was no escaping him, forever, I milked that situation to my advantage and wheedled a badminton racket out of him after my truncated performance, with my mom glowering in the background. Not to mention, that in addition to all of these humiliations, I had un-endearing nicknames, eg. 'keechu-moochu sundari' Because my voice was so 'keechu' they said....where they got the moochu and the sundari, I don't know!

Anyway, the plague that is my name, follows me to date, with people assuming that I 'like' to sing. Actually, I don't know anymore, if I do or don't. Its like somebody kept whispering, nay, shouting hoarsely, in my ears all through childhood and teenage years, I even tried, sincerely, a couple times to work at it and convinced myself that I enjoyed it. I probably still do, except I don't think I do, maybe for my own listening pleasure, never that of others though. I get cold sweats and shaky kneed if somebody asks me to sing. The thing also is that I don't have a voice that is sweet and high-pitched anymore, I sorta ruined it early in a fit of defiance, so I'm left with a voice that is part husky part shrill in places, and completely unsuitable for Indian music. So, there are not many 'shining' moments for me. Which is fine, because I don't much like to sing in front of audiences anyway. AND I sorely dislike people who keep singing like they are in front of an audience all the time. Like when we are playing antakshari and you have that lone voice, which keeps trying to veer the group back into the right sur and pitch while the rest of us are singing madly for the heck of it, like the lone voice that continues to sing verses long after you have stopped under one's breath though but just loud enough to deserve the, 'You have a nice voice' compliment, the lone voice that does not enjoy B-grade songs because they are 'all about screaming and never about singing'.

So, anyway, after a lot of pondering, one time, not too long ago, I asked my mom why she and my father had to name me, 'Sangeetha' and I told her what a big 'burden' it was that I was carrying (:P) And she replied, "Well, it was because we liked music so much, silly!". OH!!!! That clears a lot of things!! It has nothing to do with me, really, its just mostly a reminder of what my parents like. Which is sorta better than what I had thought - their (fallen) expectations! :P

Anyhow, so all of that, a lifetime of (mis)thought is in that name!!!! :P

Happy New Year!!!

New Year resolution: Do NOT obsess!!!!!
And
Learn Statistics!

It started on last Sunday with a bad case of jitters over parallel park...for the uninitiated, I had my driver's test on Friday the 26th and I was frantically trying to make sure I could get done with it. This of course involves mastering parallel park, and that was where the concept was completely lost on me. I mean, its so logical, only if you hit the curb do you know for sure that you are close enough, otherwise you could be anywhere... Or so were my thoughts, and I bet everybody hits the curb every so often, that's how everybody parks so close to the curb and off the street, really! Its time the driving school people made it a requirement to hit the curb!

Anyway, so for the next 3 days, I parked anybody's and everybody's car, at all odd hours of the day and even dreamed of parallel parking, weirdly though, I was parallel parking scooters in my dream (?)
On Christmas eve, I had friends over, cooked from 3:00 in the afternoon till about 7:30 PM, was bored as hell with the cooking, but company of friends was fun.
On Christmas day, I went to the shelter and then I went to lab, was probably the only person around there.

I have decided never to do work on weekends or holidays. Because, it never works out! Everything I do on weekends always backfires and I end up creating twice the amount of work for myself. :(

Anyway, so I am now in Austin, happy days are here again. We watched Ghajini yesterday, the hindi version with Aamir Khan. I identified two roles of Aamir in the movie, the first half where he only grins sheepishly and sometimes shyly in response to everything that Asin says. And the next half, where he grunts and makes demonic faces. In the 90's this movie would have been marketed as one of those, Ghajini- unleash the devil within' and in the 80's as a reincarnation story or some possession story. Apart from cheesy music, and gore scenes with blood, there was not much to enjoy and the ending of the movie was stretched beyond the capacity of a rubber band with high polymerization degree.


:)

Actually, I want to post about nothing and yet everything too.... I could post about the terror attacks in Mumbai but I think I'm jaded.....what more am I going to say that has not already been said

I think I saw the most ridiculous advertisement ever! There's this guy who gives a cute looking Yorkie a bath, grroms her and dresses her up with a bow for his wife instead of going to a game. And the punch line is..for everybody who cannot be like this guy, there'e herzberg diamonds or something...

I like watching House or Law and Order or anything miserable and gory simply because its easier to empathize and feel sorry for someone on screen than look closer home. Once the show ends, i can convince myself that it was just fiction and if I do think about it more, I can convince myself that my interest in it is only academic.
I think my behavior is fascinating and scary at the same time. Does everybody think of these shows the same way?

I don't like to comply with deadlines. I convince myself that I am either sick, or the house needs to be cleaned, food needs to be cooked or my blog needs updating.

I walked to lab today and back. It rained first and then it snowed. It was lovely....it was most relaxing...the high point of the day, clearly :P
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Wow, this has been the most random post in a long long time...I am really really bored...im so bored, I am barely making the end of this sentence....

"I'm heading off home early today", she said. "Done for the day, I finished all I had to do today!", she grinned.

"So, you're done with everything at 2:30 PM in the afternoon?", he asked incredulously.

"Yup! I have nothing left to do, not today at least, and I can't start anything else until tomorrow", she said confidently.

" Nothing to read? You're a 4th year student, after all", he asked.

"I don't have to read here, I can read at home, In fact, I'm far more productive at home", she said, lies rolling off her tongue, effortlessly.

"I see....", he noted.



2 days later....

"Is anybody going to be in over the weekend, can someone take my samples out?", he asked, looking at her and GS#2

Before she answered, GS#2 said, "I will be here, so I can do it"

He looked at her and said pointedly, "Not in over the weekend, hmmm....brownie point for GS#2, none for you"

She looked at him, sullenly, and said, "Well, I have a life...I don't care!" and humphed, muttering under her breath.

He looked at her, grinned, " noting in my little book...., 'does not care about research'.....hmmm"

She did not look in his direction.....



Crap!!!!! On the radar now!!! :(

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah

This song never fails to move me....the artist is Sarah McLachlan..

http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=8EYocy_DN60

Here is the full version of the song:
http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=jVbkz_3lO3c&NR=1

And this is the link fo the shelter that I volunteer at:

http://www.animalrescue.org/

I request all those who visit my blog to please take a couple minutes to check it out...and if not donate, then at least remember to not walk away when you see an example of animal cruelty, in any form.

There is no greater crime than attacking/mistreating a helpless animal.
Were it up to me, I would lay down the highest punishment for animal cruelty and a complete absence of any fines, so people would never get away with it.

Until that day, I can at least be vigilant about it. And I do hope, that, by association, at least some of those who know will remember and live by it.
I don't know about my peers, but if you asked me what impression I would like to have made when my time on earth is done, it is only this...
that at least by my example, even if not by true empathy, I influence people around me to take the time to educate themselves and their future generations about animal welfare and be proactive about fighting animal cruelty.

I care not for friends who have not understood the most basic lesson in life : that of mutual respect for all that is living...
And maybe the day will come when I have to call upon each of my friends in turn, to rise to the occasion....and I hope that I will not be disappointed.

"Breathe in, breathe out...
breathe in and breathe out..
yes, that's the way...
just a little bit more...
I know it hurts...but this is the last one...
don't focus on the pain..but focus on the end.
almost there...just one more push...
it'll be over soon..."

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I'm not pregnant, I just had a conversation with my limbs, egging them to make it home.....after a date with my bike :P

I have always wanted to write about this. My fascination with neuroscience, specifically with cognition, memory and learning began with this.
And so each time I revisit this topic with renewed mixed emotions- fascination, sadness....
I learned about this living legend before I joined my current lab...well, about 2-3 years ago, maybe, and that is considered recent, considering the fact that it is research on H.M., that has given us what we know today about memory. A lot has been written about H.M. on the world wide web as well as in print.

So, for the non-scientists who may stumble upon this post, HM is an individual who was born sometime in 1920-1930's and suffered from severe epilepsy. Not only was he predisposed to it owing to hereditary, but he also suffered a bicycle accident at about 9 years of age. He suffered seizures all the time growing up until when he was 27, he was having as many as 11 episodes of seizures each week. Since not much was known about epilepsy in the 1950's, a particularly invasive surgery was performed involving excision of the bilateral temporal lobe region. A large part of the hippocampus and amygdala was removed in the process leaving him with anterograde amnesia. So, basically, this means that he cannot retain short term memory or build it. He does remember his childhood memories and can build long term memories based on repitition (i.e. skill building ) but cannot recall events occuring in the day, so who he meets, where he is, what he did yesterday, what he ate yesterday are a inconsequential to him for he cannot remember them.
I know that this man has been written about ad nauseum, some with scientific interest, some with social interest, some with commercial interest. He is the legend that scores of movies are based on such as Memento,  and its remake Ghajini, 50 first dates and so on. But since for me it bears special significance, I write about him today...

This man is a boon to the science of memory, learning, for the amount people have learned from his experiences with memory, for what they have been able to apply, help other individuals with or without epilepsy and simply in understanding better the processes involved in encoding of memory and recall. But, consider for a minute, the practical dilemma for HM, a ~75 year old man who wakes up every morning expecting to see in the mirror the face of a 30 year old, but instead sees a face that is much older, a man who wakes up every morning to the knowledge that his mother is no more, that he remembers of her no more that the fact that she was his mother, no episodic memories of Christmas or Thanksgiving or New Year's. Who remembers at times that he has undergone a procedure that has limited his ability to remember the memories that make him, well, him and deals with it with equanimity. And its one thing to see it in a movie where things are make believe and its another to truly realize that such a person exists.

Scientists have looked into the concept of 'self', for one may argue, what is one if one cannot recall experiences, memories that condition our responses to being uniquely our own....

To satiate curiousity, perhaps of people like me, following is an excerpt from the 2002 paper by Suzanne Corkin:

"He is altruistic: when I asked him to tell me about Dr Scoville (with whom H.M. had several appointments before his operation) he said, “He
did medical research on people — all kinds of people.What he learned about me helped others too, and I’m glad about that.”
He has a conscience. For example, when explaining why he could not fulfil his dream of being a neurosurgeon, he cites the fact that he wears glasses, and that blood might spurt up onto his glasses, creating an obstacle to his vision and causing him to miss his target in the patient’s brain, thereby causing the patient harm.
In addition, he has good insight into his memory disorder. When I asked him, “What do you do to try to remember?” he replied, “Well, that I don’t know ’cause I don’t remember (laugh) what I tried.” He has a sense of humour, and often makes jokes. Another aspect of a sense of self is knowledge of one’s appearance and physical state.
On one occasion when I showed him an old photograph of himself and his mother, he replied that the man looked like his father, but
that it could not be his father because his father does not wear glasses. His ability to interpret and report internal states is diminished75. Specifically, he has an impaired ability to identify and respond to painful stimuli, and shows no difference in his ratings of hunger and thirst made before and after a meal.
You could imagine that he might express shock and incredulity at the sight of an old man, because he does not remember that decades
have elapsed since 1953 when his memory was last intact. I can report the following anecdotal evidence: when he looks at himself
in a mirror, he shows no change in facial expression, his conversation is matter-offact, and he does not seem to be at all upset.
On one occasion he was asked, “What do you think about how you look?He replied, “I’m not a boy.” This response reveals his
sense of humour and his acceptance of the image he sees in the mirror. "

What is our sense of self really, and having been deprived of that, in part, can we survive living? H.M proves that we can, the man who contributed so much to our understanding of the brain, who will possibly live oblivious,  never knowing how much his 'experiment' contributed to the field of neuroscience.
And I play out scenarios in my head of how it may be for him...day to day...for the past 50 odd years...
So, its how you see it, I guess...maybe H.M lives an ideal life, if somebody hurts his feelings, he won't remember it, if somebody breaks his heart, he won't be able to dwell on it, if he loses his temper, he will probably put it behind him better than any of us.
Or maybe he wakes up every morning with those precious few memories of his childhood, his parents, his birthdays, his dreams, his hopes and wonders every night, if today was the last day he would ever know them and if slowly facets of 'him' were being chipped away....

So, tomorrow is the next bike day for me! I have decided to spend some time today going through gear changes in bikes. Yes, yes, I know....I don't know how to change gears yet. Hey, I can't help it...I just figured that after developing cars and motor bikes that are 'automatic', somebody whould have extended it to bikes too. Guess I was wrong. So, anyway, if I figure that out, tomorrow may be a better day...I will be riding early tomorrow morning so I get to put lights on my bike, is that cool or what!!!!! And I have my new bike helmet and lock too and a matching Pitt water bottle!
I am super-excited! Schenley....here I come!!!

I attended the Neuroscience retreat this past weekend. It was held at the Oglebay Resort, Wheeling. So, the place is great..the deer are really tame there. There's lots to do around like horse riding, fishing, golfing, hiking, swimming...and more. So, it was great.
The science in itself was great. Relevant speakers, diverse topics, all in neuroscience, it was great to see so many neuroscientists in one place. For once, it was not all about cancer.

Now, for the gossip. Following are rambled observations based on conversations that cannot be posted verbatim on this space:

Industry - Now, this is a bad word in academic world. It means you are attracted by the lure of the 'dark side'. And so, if somebody asks you what you plan to do after getting your PhD, then never tell them that you are considering, even contemplating the industry. Because then, you are automatically considered as a 'defector'. The general consensus is that nobody does any 'real' science in the industry and the industry is motivated only by profits and market shares.

Grad students in the US: are a discontented lot. And I guess they haven't gotten over their frat and sorority days yet. No matter what facilities you give them or how much you make their life easy, they will always complain. Its the nature of this beast. So, here we were, at an all paid resort, with fancy meals laid out every time. Even if it was not too fancy, it was definitely palatable on all occasions, but did the students like it? No, they did not. Complaints ranged from the meat should have been more tender or the fish was too tender, and oh, the same old boring food each time...Maybe, its just me, maybe I just have low expectations. And its not all impossible either, after 3 years of expecting only fruits and dessert at academic functions, maybe I am surprised at having options. :P

Everybody's doing laundry - in public. What's with washing your dirty laundry in public anyway? The thing we harp so much about, privacy and how its our right and all that - it seems we handle that very callously, especially, since at the drop of a hat we are willing to wash even 'underwear' in front of a veritable stranger. And the details that come out! Talk about real life imitating reel life. Its funnr sometimes, but distasteful at most others.

Oh, and lastly, I've had it with the whole 'pretty girls in science' routine. Can we please agree and admit that I am a naturally scintillating conversationalist, when I like it and get over with the age old excuse of 'oh, ur a girl and ur not so bad-looking either, so....' Is it really so threatening to all if I can string big words together in one statement?
Its not that I am looking for confirmation from anybody, but its just so tiresome to hear the same deal over and over again...At least, come up with a better excuse, y'all with  Y chromosome suck when it comes to originality. You've been using the same freakin' line for at least a couple hundred years now.

All in all, something to remember

My bike doesn't like me. No, it really doesn't! Its like an unruly horse that I now have to break.
So, I tried riding it today, from home to work, and I had the opportunity to use the choicest expletives in the process. I guess what did not make it better was that I was riding alongside a 40 something woman, my labmate, and mother of three, who is clearly in a far better shape than I, stamina-wise.
So, my ordeal was impending since last Friday. At my first attempt to ride my bike, on Friday, the lock would not come off in spite of me having the right combination and everything. Anyway, so, I gave up on Friday and decided that I would get a new lock and some new bike gear and get going on Monday.
So, this morning, at 7:30 AM, I met my labmate outside, the pushing and shoving of my bike from the basement to outside had already left me red-faced. Undaunted, I continued through the park behind my house. And onto this trail that runs through the park to exit on the other side. All this was great and I was feeling quite accomplished really, the wind was beating down on my face, the air crisp with fresh dew from the leaves and the undergrowth beneath the bike tires was twig-laden and a-crackling. Very picturesque, so far! I was really getting into the whole trail-ride deal. Then of course, the trail ended and we got out on the other side by Phipps.......still good, doing fine so far. Then we got onto Fifth and from fifth onto O Hara, and there, my friends, things went downhill or more precisely, uphill!
Now, to give you some back ground about O Hara street, its a straight street, no turns, wide roads, seemingly plain but in truth its like a slow uphill trudge. So there I was huffing and puffing my way, on O Hara wondering, why, even pedestrians were getting ahead of me, while I was growing persistantly redder in the face. By this time, my labmate was nowhere to be seen, she zipped across on her cruiser bike and sailed past the lights, while I blocked traffic and valiantly pedaled to get past the street.
Anyhow, this done, in another 5 minutes, we reached the parking garage. I swear, by this time, I was feeling almost herniated. I really did feel like my small intestines would come tumbling out of somewhere. And I kid you not, getting off the bike, was a whole new pain experience. I had no idea that my seat was so uncomfortable, suffice to say, it was a very sore day in lab for me.
I was dreading the ride back home, and I was right to. Because, now, the street leading to Phipps became O Hara all over again. And the nice breezy trail of the morning with its crunchy twigs and dirt road became my personal Death valley. That morning, I had expected O Hara to be difficult, but I had not expected the trail to be that tough on the way back. Every two minutes the trail rose and dipped alternately, and at least on concrete roads you can build some speed. On this dirt road you cannot build speed at all, consequently, I was pedaling furiously, though I was not really getting too far.
I gave up soon in enough and wheeled my bike through the last bits, unashamedly. It was either that or die of cardiac arrest en route. And I did not fancy having paramedics called for a case of 'brown girl dies of over-exhaustion after biking for 10 minutes' . I did ride the last 3 minutes home and then picked up my bike and parked it in the basement. The one flight of stairs that I had to climb to get home, seemed to stretch on forever like eternity...
I do think though that Pittsburgh and bikes do not go together.And I do think also that my bike is too heavy, so much so that it slows me down a lot. I mean, come on, it can't be all me. Some of it is my recalcitrant bike, too!
Maybe I should try something different, like roller blading or something. Or maybe if I stick to this long enough, my bike will begin to like me :P and we'll have some good times ahead..for the next month or so at least.... :)

So much for the resolution about posting at least 3 times  a week. On the other hand this may be interpreted as me being too busy to post anything, which is a fair assessment. The lesson out of this, never declare anything concretely in a public space.....

Shelter update:
It has been great, absolutely wonderful to be working at the sheletr, I am only walking dogs mostly, I did attend the training for S.T.A.R dogs, but am yet to put any of that training to use. The good thing is that dogs get adopted from this shelter pretty soon. The bad news is that I can volunteer there only once or twice a week, at most. I have come to love pittbulls. They are most adorable, so so friendly. I see with amazing regularity pittbulls, rottweilers, weimeraners. I also see a good number of sheperd mixes and labradors. No puppies yet, though.
A third of my time with each dog involves training them to understand basic commands. In this, I have met with moderate success with two of the pittbulls and almost nil success with a sheperd mix I was trying to train. The sheperd mix instead wanted to bully me into giving him the treat I held, this, he chose to accomplish by incessant barking. Unfortunately for him, I have been around a dog that pretty much stops at nothing to get a treat, so I am familiar with all of the tricks of the trade. The pittbulls I walked were so affectionate, they were more like cats than dogs, weaving between my feet and resting their big wide heads on my lap. And the glee on their faces when we played 'race to the other end' was amazing.
All in all, its been more than just worthwhile. I wish all of these dogs happy homes ahead. I only wish I could do more for them. In a way its good that they get adopted out so quick, 'coz otherwise, I'd be too attached to them. Oh, and they have fun names too. I am hoping that at some point I will get to posting pics and videos online. More on this later

I'm in the mood for a tamil movie.....a nice tamil movie with good music, and a reasonable story line.....I wonder which movie will satisfy that craving.....

Among other news, I finished my salangai poojai last Saturday, it was a blast....
I discovered upon seeing the video later, that, thankfully, I do not have two left feet...and I have reasonable grace....I still need to work on the poses, the expressions, the dramatization et al....but I think I can work on those.
Since I have very low expectations from myself in such things, I am pleasantly surprised to find the grace, the absence of left feet...
that'll do for now.
Ooh, and the killer T, i.e, the thillana which I feared more than the plague itself, went off ok. This, in spite of me stubbing my toe real bad towards the last thirmanam in the thillana.... I am feeling pretty smug now, considering that it hurt like a bitch during the performance, but I couldn't stop. All those of hours of practicing paid off, and I finished the performance, mechanically with a smile (or grin, some would say...) plastered to my face....
Anyhow, it was fun, to say the least, and my teacher/friend was pleased with our performance....for a while, then in true guru style she pointed out our mistakes and places where we could improve..which was alright.
I have the next two years to work on that...if I could do this in 3 months time, then there is hope for me.... :P

I also did go to the animal shelter....it was great!!!! Beyond great, actually, I walked a rotweiller and a mastiff...both females. They were beautiful...so well-behaved and friendly, it was a pleasure!!! And the mastiff, was more cat than a dog, the way she kept skulking by my feet, at a nice steady pace...and when I wanted to play ball with her, she was content to just lay her head on my lap and look at my face with those big brown doe eyes of hers.....awwwww...
So when I threw my ball, and walked to fetch it, she would trot along with me, and then walk back to the chair, wait till I sat, to lay her head on my lap again...Very amusing!!!!

Anyway, resting toe, currently, waiting for it to heal....and then back to the fun..

So, I just saw pictures of a friend's wedding. Make that two of my friends' wedding pictures  in the past couple weeks. Both of them in a partly south-indian style. And I just went, aawwwww......They were beautiful....I had forgotten that one could look so beautiful in the heavy sarees and flowers. The head gear of flowers, the henna on the hands, the typical sarees and bangles....the works, basically...And it just brought back memories.....memories of running around in a pavadai-chattai  in various halls that smelt of rose-water, sandalwood, fire, payasam, nadaswaram.... among other things.
How odd! I never thought myself to be a fan of big elaborate proceedings....the whole kashi-yatra deal and the nalang and the oonjal bit used to appear quite bizzare to me...I still don't know if I have gotten over the bizzareness of the customs, but, hey, I have no other wedding ceremony to really compare aspects to...
No offense to the bride and bridegroom in the respective weddings, I , in fact, sighed over them quite wishfully...I think I missed them more than I expected myself to.. the whole wedding bonanza...
So,I have always thought that 'I' do not approve of the colossal waste of money at weddings, not to mention the food, not forgetting the inanity of ceremonial procedures that do not make sense/ seem incongruous to my mind,ideals, lastly the silk sarees (obviously being against the whole silk worms massacre).
And yet here I am thinking about those very things....Do I really want those things for me? A big wedding, the colorful sarees, even the hordes of ppl, and the overbearing customs.. 'coz that's how I think of several customs that we have. If it does not make sense to me, its irrelevant, and if its irrelevant, it shdnt be there. But, do, I really want to fight my parents everytime, I think not......but I don't really know anymore..and sadly if any of my family members even saw me vascillating in this space, then they would pounce on me like a pack of hounds and brainwash me, taking advantage of my moment of vulnerability...Arrgh..

Must be getting soft in the head.....
Is a lobotomy a quick and painless procedure? 'coz I think I need one...

Anyhow, congratulations to the newly weds......happy times ahead....

Guess who's doing something finally...And not just anything...the real thing :D
Me, that's who!!!

So, I signed up for the Animal rescue League's volunteer sessions. Orientation begins on Thursday...one day before my departmental seminar. I am hoping that this time I will see this through, especially if I really want to do the 'Thing that I want to do most' in far-future.
People who know me know about the 'Thing that I want to do most'. Of course, its going to be really difficult to pull off, so I am not going to risk stating it here.
But, I am hoping that this small step will be one of many to come and that I will finally get a chance to play with dogs, and any and all animals, soon.
I have my departmental seminar, a poster presentation and a major dance thingy coming up all in the next 10 days, and I am adding the Animal Rescue Volunteering sessions to these, so now would be a really good time for the world to wish for those 28 hours instead of 24 hours in the day. Maybe if all of us wish real hard, it'll come true...and I'm sure all of could do with an extra 4 hours everyday.

Ingrid Betancourt was rescued on July 2nd after spending 6 years (!!!!) in captivity in Columbia. Read the story here.

It was just months back that I was discussing with a labmate about the news of a presidential candidate being held captive for 6 years! I know very little about world history, politics, war and the like, and so I felt strangely occupied with thoughts for a while. I wondered if Stockholm syndrome had set in? I wondered if she and others like her, spoke or established relationships with the guerrilla soldiers. Or did they think about life after captivity. Did they hope for it the first year and with every passing year, slowly lose hope.... Did they think about their family and friends? Would life be changed for some of them, all of them, irrevocably? Would their perceptions about relationships be changed,  after all that time in captivity?
One would imagine so...

(And now I will digress...)
On another note, our ability, as humans, to dissociate from something that is not in front of our eyes is so bizzaire yet so fantastic. To start where I left off, I am sure that the people concerned did not exactly forget about Ingrid or the other captives. But what about the rest of the world?
And how true it is of the countless tragedies, wars, accidents that occur everywhere? Did we or did we not continue with our lives, engaged in the occasional fun and frolic and worried about endlessly mundane things? I know I did...
You wonder why it was built into you in the first place? Is it an evolutionary trait of some sort? The ability to empathize definitely exists in humans but only upto a certain degree. Out of sight is out of mind....a picture is worth a thousand words...we all know of these pithy statements. There's a lot of sense in those. So, what is it about sight that is so powerful? And why don't our other senses evoke as much contemplation. (Something worth a scientific experiment, methinks..)
Seeing a picture of torture victims, or of hurricane-ravaged New Orleans, or tsunami-wrecked Indonesia, India brings to fore emotions of grief, helplessnes, and a sense of 'I wish I could do something immediately'
Then again, there is the question of resources, resources that may or may not be available to you. And so we move on, knowing that we cannot undo what has happened, well, not with our limited resources anyway.... But, I'm guessing we never really try too hard...
Because, how often it is easily forgotten or relegated in the background of our minds, while we move on with our life. One could argue on one level that that's the beauty of life, that we celebrate it by being resilient and by living rather than wallowing in something that we cannot change. What drama, I say!  That's one of the worst arguments that one can give in the face of a tragedy that does not actually hit you!
Of course, if we were to take every tragedy that hits mankind personally, it would be very difficult to continue with life. And, who knows maybe we will have shorter life spans due to all that stress. Or maybe that's why there are so many humans in the first place,.....so that there will always be some that are dispensable...and the species won't entirely die out...(ugh, morbid evolution concept!)

Hmmm, I wonder, if, after this heartfelt debate with self, I will do something to change my pitiful existence or continue with the 'relegate to storage ' thought...

Anyhow, another day of convoluted thought processes....so what else is new??
 

At this rate, I'm going to easliy keep up with my resolution of posting more than 3 times a week. Terseness be damned, though!
I have been having problems with my official pitt email service. I don't get half of my emails, and even the ones I send, keep coming back to me. I have my pitt email forwarded to my gmail account simply 'coz the pitt interface sucks!!! And sucks to an abyssmal degree. Plus, its easier to keep track of threads and conversations on gmail than sucky pitt mail!
So, lately I have not been getting all my emails and it obviously looks bad, especially since I am late for every freaking deadline and late to even reply! I have checked that my pitt email account is free and uncluttered and all that, even so, only selective forwarding takes place. I finally got tired of this and called the Tech services for Pitt and my conversation was as follows:
Tech: What's your issue?
Me: Problems with forwarding at Pitt, not forwarding to my gmail
Tech: Its a problem at gmail's end, not ours
Me (incredulous at his confident assessment): How and why do you say that? I have not had problems with any other account forwarding
Tech: Does the other account forward from a pitt.edu extension?
Me : No! But, that's just it, all other accounts forward properly
Tech: Oh, we've had problems with hotmail, gmail, yahoo, comcast etc
Me (excited by the obvious logical derivation): See, exactly, then the problem must be at Pitt's end, right?
Tech: Nope, its gmail alright..
Me (dismayed by evident flaw in logical reasoning): How do you say that? What basis do you have for saying that? And how an I verify that its being refused by gmail and been sent properly by pitt
Tech: I'm telling you its not at Pitt mail's end
Me (exasperated by inane responses that have no apparent solution) : Anyway how do I resolve it?
Tech: Call up gmail?
Me: Ok, thanks (doofus!)

So, that's how it stands as of now. I refuse to believe that gmail has the problem. More likely that pitt mail is marked for spam or some such thing, except I don't even get my emails as spam! I have two options, check my pitt mail obsessively and resort to using the snail-like pace of pitt mail and clunky interface (hell, I bet regular snail mail's faster than pitt mail). Or, tell everybody from dept chair to dept admin to change my email address in all of their records.
Now, I have to contend with dirty looks in my dept and good-natured advice from everybody about my email-checking skills, as if I wasn't obsessive enough! Add another shitty email account to check every morning. Dang it!