Jews are awesome

Well, I could really leave this one right here and get the basic message across.  Jews are, in fact, awesome.  But some people keep asking for more cowbell details about my life, so here we go.

Last Wednesday, I went to get a free bagel at the Alumni Center.  Just one of the many perks of being a student.  Every week, they have free bagels and some student group is there handing out their recruitment propaganda.  Last week, the student group was Hillel, the umbrella organization for Jewish student groups on campus.

So, being a wannajew, I stopped to talk to them.  They were really nice.  They gave me a fridge magnet that says "גו בלו", which is "Go Blue!" transliterated (not translated) into Hebrew.  It's kinda fun.  I turned down several Silly Bands (apparently something the kids are doing these days) shaped like Stars of David and letters in the Hebrew alphabet.  But the best thing they gave me was the number of the Jewish Penicillin Hotline. This is a group of students who will bring any sick student matzo ball soup for free.  Just to help out their fellow man.

You see, it says in the Talmud that "a sick person should know that he or she isn't left to suffer alone."  And simple as that, the students want to make sure that any sick person knows that they have a friend.  Jew or Gentile, they just want to do that kind of service for anybody who is suffering.  And that's why Jews are awesome.

Politics

Does anybody enjoy political talk TV?  My roomie is watching Keith Olberman right now and I realized something: I hate them all.  Beck, Olberman, even Jon Stewart who I used to really like.  They're all insufferable tool bags.  The shows involve a lot of really smug bragging about everything that the other party does wrong, lots of complaining about things that don't go their way, and videos and sound bytes that make the other guy look dumb.  So annoying.

I'm not going anywhere with this.  I'm just sayin, is all.

The other thing about Cell Biology

My faithful readers will remember last week when I posted about my cell biology class.  Everyone else can scroll down to last week and pretend to be a faithful reader if they want.  No judgment here.

Well, it seems that I am not the only one complaining about the class.  Yesterday, the professor (the "head professor", so the one who wrote this last test we took) came to class and said that she's been getting lots of negative feedback.  She then explained that we were all dumb and need to work harder.  She told us that this class is a graduate level class, and is all about critical thinking not just regurgitation like we are used to, and that can cause some students to struggle.  But the solution is for us, the students, to buck up and work harder.

This made me think about two things.  First, when you argue, there are the buzzwords you use and there is your actual argument.  These two do not have to be related.  You may notice that my criticism of her class was "in grad school we should be thinking critically not regurgitating, therefore you are a bad teacher," and that her defense was "in grad school, you should be thinking critically not regurgitating, therefore you are all lazy and dumb."  We both think that those particular words- critical thinking and all that- back up our particular position.  Of course, I am right.

The second thing is something that really bothers me.  That is that the problem is always someone else's fault.  I would have been happy with a compromise of "hey, guys, I could have worded my questions better, but you still need to put more time into this class.  I'll try to be clearer about what I want if you will try to do better work."  Some sort of shared blame.  But there was no sharing.  She said "You are complaining about my test, therefore you are all dumb."  Nothing wrong with the test.

Anyway, I thought I should follow up on that previous post.  I just have to make it through another few weeks of the class, and then I'll get to complain about something else.

Lenny

Well, friends, after years of homeopathic medicine, I had to take Lenny to a real doctor yesterday.  It seems he had a leaky gasket that I would have really enjoyed fixing myself, but I just don't have the time these days.  I think it would have made for some good experience but it would have probably taken me 2 or 3 weeks.  And grad school is a busy time.  Plus, it's cold outside.

So, I went to a mechanic that I think I'm going to like.  The place is right up the block from my house (by the bus stop I used to use, so it's an easy walk) and very quick.  I took Lenny to him on Monday morning before work, and by Monday evening he was done.

I'm hoping that this is the end of Lenny's problems.  He's a good car, he just breaks down a lot.  It's not his fault.

What bothers me about Cell Biology

Well, friends, I said I'd keep in better touch and do a better job of updating my blog.  And one easy way to write a post is to complain about something.  So, here I go!

Right now, I am in a cell biology class.  As a graduate student, most of my time is dedicated to research, but I have to take 3 or 4 classes.  That's OK, because graduate school classes aren't like undergrad classes- they're more about critical thinking and learning than they are about regurgitation and mind reading.  Or at least, they should be.

Enter cell bio.  This class feels like they took an undergraduate cell biology class and said "how can we make this harder, so it's a graduate level class, but not change our lectures at all?"  Some of the ideas they came up with were kind of remarkable.

One way they make the class harder is to have it team-taught.  That means that we have a new professor every couple of weeks.  So, if there is a problem with the course, we can go to the professor who is currently teaching who will say "look, I've only got a lecture or two left, let's just tough it out," or the previous one who will say "I'm not involved in that course any more, sorry!" or the head professor who will say "you know, I only supervise and don't have any real power over problem X.  You should talk to someone else."  I've heard each of those, either directly from the professor or from another student who tried to get help.  So, that's frustrating. 

Another way they make my life difficult is by asking terrible questions.  This is one of my big pet peeves, and I work hard to ask good questions when I teach.  The bad questions come in two types: The Fish and The Detail Guess. 

The Fish is where you ask a very vague question with a very specific answer in mind.  Like "What makes Hitler a bad person?"  "No, it's not what he did to Poland.  No, I don't mean killing the Jews.  No, not abuse of power and manipulating people.  That's right, I was looking for 'Killing Gypsies.'  Hitler was bad because he killed Gypsies."

The Detail Guess is where you ask a broad question, and want a very specific amount of detail.  "What do you do when company comes over?" You can answer this question saying "I would vacuum my living room."  Then, if they want more detail, they say "Where did you get the vacuum?  Do you use electricity to vacuum?  Do you move the furnature or just vacuum around it?"  But if they want less detail they say "all I wanted was "clean up the house."  The key elements of the information guess are one, they penalise you for giving the wrong level of detail (either too much or too little) and two, they make no attempt at telling you how much detail they wanted.

Anyway, I'm frustrated with the class, as you can tell.  Will I survive? Yes.  Will I be sending any of the TA's a Christmas card? Probably not.

Bored

So, here I am, sitting in the Maddock lab at UM, avoiding the grant proposal I should be writing.  I've checked a couple blogs, I've read the news, and I just can't make myself write the last essay I have to write.  I'm out of blogs and other fun things to do. 

And if you give a mouse a blog, he'll remember that he hasn't updated his own in a while.  Or something like that.

I'm not sure what in my life is exciting enough to update you on.  My science is being...less than successful at the moment.  I'm writing a big proposal to the NSF to get them to fund me (3 years of solid funding plus a raise...it would be very nice).  Kate is doing most of the fun wedding-planny stuff. 

Anyway, that's probably enough rambling for now.  But for my fans out there, I am still alive.  Just been busy.  I'll try not to neglect you so much in the future.

Meetings

Hey, folks.  Another rambling post about things nobody cares about.  Except me.  I care about them a lot.

Today I was thinking about something in church. In my ward, someone gets up every week to announce that if you are new to the ward, the Bishop and "Transition Committee" (a group that helps with new move-ins) would love to meet you, so there will be a brief meeting before Sunday school for all the new people and a few people they should meet (Elders Quorum, Bishop, etc).  But this always sounds a bit weird to me.  A meeting.  I don't know about you, but when I hear "meeting" I picture this.

Or maybe this.

Is there a reason we have to use that word?  Especially with people who are new to the church, I feel like our calling everything a meeting (Sacrament meeting, Elders Quorum meeting, and then if you're lucky you have a committee meeting of some sort after church) is kind of strange.  Maybe it's just me, but I would feel kind of weird about "let's have a meeting with the transition committee," but I'd be totally OK with "let's meet up" or "let's get together."

Is that weird?

Blank Time

Time for a rant, friends. 

Right now it is 12:03 (it will probably be later by the time this gets posted, but at this exact moment, it is still 12:03).  There is a department seminar today at noon.  3 minutes ago.  But everyone knows that it doesn't start till 12:15.  It is the noon seminar that starts 15 minutes after noon.  And then since nobody shows up till 12:15, it doesn't actually get going till 12:20 or 12:30.

Folks around here call this "Michigan Time."  One of my classes starts at "10:00 AM," which of course means 10:15.  It is just understood that things are supposed to start late, and if you actually want things to start on time you have to make a huge deal about it.  Like last week when we were taking a bus out to a departmental retreat.  The bus was leaving at 10:00, which was not on Michigan Time (the departmental email actually said that). 

This has made me think lately.  I am (spoiler ahead!) a Mormon.  We, as a people, have the bad habit of being late to things.  So much so that some of us use the term "Mormon Standard Time" to mean 15-20 minutes late.  When I worked at JCVI, formerly TIGR (said "Tiger"), everyone talked about "TIGR time" meaning 20-30 minutes late.  When I was a missionary to the Spanish-speakers in Orange County, people talked about "Latin Time."

It seems to me that this is a ubiquitous problem that every group of people wants to claim as their own.  We all want to say "I'm late because I'm at UM" or "I'm late because I'm Mormon" and never "I'm late because I'm bad at managing my time."

So, have any of you seen this?  Do any of you belong to some group that is late because of Group Name Time?

Brandon Sanderson

So, for the information of anyone who doesn't know this yet, I'm a huge nerd. I can admit it. Brandon Sanderson, one of my favorite authors, recently put out a nerdy book.




I went back and forth over and over about whether or not I wanted to get a numbered autographed copy on opening night.  I finally decided not to, partly because I missed the pre-order deadline.  Then I get a call from my old roommate Travis the day before the book came out. Travis accidentally pre-ordered two copies.  I said I would buy one of them off of him.  So Travis asked me what I wanted the personalization to say, since he would be going to get it from Brandon that night and could have anything I wanted written in the front.  I didn't really care so I just told Travis to make it something "cool and Brandon Sandersony".

A week or two later, yesterday, I get the book in the mail.  When I opened it up, I saw the autographed title page:

How awesome is that? Travis apparently told Brandon Sanderson that I was getting married soon, so I now have a congratulations on the title page. Maybe that's just cool to me, but I think it's pretty darn cool.

Pie graphs

I was going to just have this image with no explanation, but I guess I can at least say where it comes from. I was watching a presentation the other day with lots of scientific data presented in pie-graph form, and I couldn't help but think how much I hate pie graphs. That's all.

Cookie dough

Well, friends, I made cookie dough last night. I am a big fan of chocolate chip cookie dough. A really big fan. I love the stuff, raw eggs and all. But everybody says it's bad for you to eat raw eggs. So every year or so when I am making cookie dough, I think "I should look for a recipe that doesn't have eggs." And I do. And I'm always disappointed. I made this one last night.  Does anybody have a good one?  Anybody? I'm probably going to stick with eggs for a while, but I'd love to hear if anybody has a better idea.

Final Beard Post

Well, friends, all good things must come to an end. My beard came to an end a couple weeks ago, but I never got around to posting the pictures. Maybe I was just sad to see it go. The last few stages were less fun than the early ones, therefore I took fewer pictures of them, and can fit them all into one post.

First, I wanted sort of pointy sideburns.

Then I wanted REALLY pointy sideburns, so I went with the ramps.




And finally, just for the sake of tradition, I went with a creepy mustache.

Webcam app

Does anybody know a good program for taking pictures with a webcam? Taking those beard pictures was a hassle. I used Cameroid, which is a piece of junk. Any tips?

More beard

Well, now that I've posted something else, time for more beard pictures.

This stage was fun. So fun that I'm posting loads of pictures of it. There are way more but I won't subject you to them, dear readers.

The Other Guys

Well, it seems that by advertising my blog on my Facebook page I have gained some new readers.  Just so those readers don't think that all I do is talk about my beard, I should probably have a post or two about something else before I get back to beard pictures (which are coming soon).

For my new readers, I should inform you that I really like movies.  I also really like to talk about movies.  It's like having an interesting life of your own to talk about.  Almost.

So, yesterday Kate and I went to see The Other Guys in the theater.  We were both expecting a summer seat-filler type movie.  It's got Marky Mark, so I expected him to be kind of clever and funny.  It's got Will Ferrell, so I expected some incoherent monotone yelling.  I sort of got those, but it was actually really really funny.

The movie pokes fun at some common movie cliches, like explosions only being dangerous if you are in them (ignoring the flying glass and shrapnel as well as the concussive force), the good guys being invincible, main characters all being unrealistically attractive, etc.  But they don't go so far into poking fun that they become just a parody like those stupid Scary Movie movies. 

Anyway, surprisingly good movie that I'm actually thinking of buying when it comes out.  That's how good we're talking.  The last movie I bought was Lone Star State of Mind, and that was three or four years ago.  I don't want to over-hype it, because I think one of the things that made it great was that it exceeded my low expectations, but you should check it out if you want a fun weekend movie.

Mutton Chops + Goatee + Mustache

= What?

I don't know what to call this.  Any ideas?  Leave em in the comments.

I figured the plaid shirt and Texas hat really completed the look.

As promised

Beard'd!

Fryday!

No, friends, that's not a typo.  Yesterday was not only another Friday.  It was Fryday.  Kelly brought a deep fryer which we set up in Bob's office (Thanks, Bob!), and everybody brought stuff to fry. 

We started with pretty standard stuff.  I made hush puppies (which made me really want catfish, but that's another story), Lance battered and fried mushrooms (and they were delicious), and everybody was happy.  Onion rings, stuffed jalapenos, wantons, it just kept going. 

One thing we had all heard of but never had was deep fried snickers.  I bought a pack of the Halloween size minis and threw them in the freezer, then battered and fried them.  They were delicious, but they got all melty and the oil got nasty.  So we figured maybe they weren't cold enough.  So we threw them in the -80C freezer (-112F).  Also not too successful.  I'm not sure how those carnies do it.

But at some point, we went too far.  We fried a doughnut. Not like you're thinking.  We RE-fried a doughnut.

And it was delicious.  We cut it up into 6 pieces (because that was too much power for one man to take) and each tried a piece.  I wish I had gotten a picture of everybody's faces.  Priceless.

Then, we went too far again.  We put a couple Swiss cake rolls in the -80.  Then we battered them.

And fried them.

The filling in the middle was still cool and creamy, but the outside was rich and delicious.  Amazing.  Again, too much power for any mortal man to take.

I've already sent the pictures to This Is Why You're Fat, so don't bother. 

Now let us never speak of this delightfully shameful moment again.

My hat off to Jason

Well, dear readers, today I am posting to pay tribute to a good man.  No, a great man.  Jason Lillrose.

And, before I forget, no, Mom, I haven't ignored your request for a beard picture.  I just can't find my camera.  There will be a picture before there is shaving.

Anyway, back to Jason.  Faithful readers will remember that he helped me fix Lenny, allowing me to drive all the way to Michigan.  Lenny is mostly well these days, although he is having some small problems.  Ah, old cars.  But by helping me fix Lenny, he gave me more than a car that functions; Jason gave me confidence with cars.

Recently one of my lab-pals, Rachel, has started having car trouble.  It's her power-steering.  She took it to a shop, and they told her today that this part was broken.  For those of you who don't feel like going to that link, let me just say that it is a hose and costs $30 new.  The shop told her it would cost $112 plus 3 or 4 hours of labor to fix, totaling at about $280.  I told her to call BS on it, and she did.  I'm so proud of her.  She asked them very nicely to hold off fixing it till she could get another estimate. 

While Rachel was looking for another mechanic to call, the guy called her back and said he would do it for $220.  She said that was great, but she still wanted to make another call.  A few minutes later he called again and said he could do it for $170.

So, what's all this got to do with Jason?  He taught me everything I know about cars.  Except what the little trumpet button on my steering wheel does.  I learned that one all on my own.  But mostly, he taught me to look into things a bit myself.  It sounded fishy that a hose would cost over a hundred bucks, so I went to autozone's website and spent 3 minutes to find that it only cost 30.  Not much work.  But I would never have thought to do it before Jason taught me to.

So, Jason, you have saved me thousands of dollars (literally), and now I have passed your legacy on to Rachel, who has saved $100.  Thanks, buddy!

Beards

Well, friends, I've done some serious thinking lately.  About the things in life that really matter.  Serious subjects.  Like beards.

OK, so maybe it's not one of the important things in life.  But it's still what I've been thinking about.  You see, I've been bearding it up for the last month.  A whole month, you ask in shock?  Yes, a whole month.  You see, as a nerd, I've done my research even on something as trivial and natural as growing a beard.  According to most things I can find on the interwebs, 4 weeks is really the minimum to see how your beard will look.  Something about follicles and growth cycles.

Anyway, the thing I've heard over and over for a month is "is it itchy?"  Surprisingly not.  Everyone always talks about how all beards are itchy.  But mine hasn't been itchy for weeks.  Itchiness is what has deterred so many from growing beards.  And suddenly, I had an epiphany.  Beards are like college. 

When you first decide that you want to be an accounting major or an electrical engineer or whatever, you have to take some low-level classes that are really hard.  Weed out classes.  These are often much harder than anything else you have to do in the major, and the idea is to get people who aren't dedicated to it to drop out and become English majors, where there are no hard classes ever. 

The first couple days of growing a beard are really itchy, and most men get to that stage and quit because they think it will always be itchy.  This is a lie, brothers.  It is just the weed-out phase of beard growing, trying to keep you from going on to the beauty of bearddom.

Anyway, for any of my imaginary readers dreaming of trying out a beard, just try to make it through the first 10 days or so, and it will be better.  Then make sure you shave before my father sees you.

Stupid UPS

So, here I am.  Two weeks ago (almost), I bought a new laptop from Lenovo.  Yippee!  The crowd went wild!  But since it was a pretty busy weekend for them (4th of July sale and all), it was going to take a while to get to me.  2 or 3 weeks.  I didn't mind. 

On Tuesday of this week, I got an email from Lenovo that said it had shipped, which was super-awesome.  I looked and looked at the tracking stuff on UPS.com but I couldn't find an expected arrival date.  So, Wednesday I called UPS.  I expected it would be a week or so, since I got the super-slow free shipping, but I wanted to know.  The girl I talked to was very helpful, and said that it would be to me the next day.  Yesterday. 

I was surprised that it was so fast, so I checked with her to make sure I had heard her right, and I did.  It arrives tomorrow, she said. I got all excited and could hardly focus all day while I was at work.  I got home and didn't see a note from UPS on the door, so one of my roomies must have been home when it got dropped off and it was already waiting for me inside. 

It wasn't on the kitchen table, so it must have been in my room.  It wasn't.  I called UPS and asked where my package was.  It had been raining pretty seriously that day, so I figured the truck was just running behind.  It turns out I was wrong.  The girl who had told me it was coming in on Thursday meant it would be in the country on Thursday (it shipped from China), and that from there it would be a couple more days.

Now, this puts me right back where I was expecting.  Monday or Tuesday.  So, it's not like it was way slower than I thought at first, it's just that they got my hopes up.  Who says "it arrives" when they mean "it arrives in America"?  I started planning what I was going to do with a new computer, and what set-up things I was going to get done, and all that.  Now I have to wait till next week - Next Week - before I can do that.

Sigh.

YAY!!

Yippee!  Hooray!  My life continues to have meaning!

Habitats

Today I created a habitat.  For whom, you ask?  For humanity.  All of humanity.  Or maybe just a nice family here in Ypsilanti.  I forget which.

The Graduate Student Council (think High School student council but with older people padding longer resumes) got some of us students together to volunteer for Habitat for Humanity.  I got to sleep in this morning till 7:15, grabbed some breakfast and headed out to the site.  Because I am used to Utah (and because I'm dumb) I just glanced at the Google map, thought I would be fine, and headed out.

It turns out that out East (which apparently applies to Michigan), streets are constructed under the Inverse Law of Pertinence:

The Inverse Law of Pertinence: The more important a street is, the less likely it is to have a sign indicating the street's name.

Of course, I got lost.  Because the main friggin streets here aren't labeled.  Not because I was unprepared.  It's the street's fault.  Well whoever's fault it was (the street's, remember), I called John for a rescue.  He lives in Boston which also looks like it was planned by a drunk goat, so he understands.

After a couple minute delay, I managed to get to the site.  I was surprised to see there was already a house there.  It turns out that Habitat for Humanity doesn't just build houses from scratch.  They also buy foreclosed homes, fix them up, and use them.  This was one of those situations.  Eight grad students divided up into three groups, and started reframing the three closets.  My group got done and we moved on to ripping up the foyer.  Yes, there was a foyer. 

We pulled off the wood paneling and found out that the foyer was a late (and not completely thought through) addition to the house.  Under the paneling were exterior wood siding, shingles (yes, shingles on the wall), and tar paper.  In one place, between the paneling and the shingles, there were a couple of long-dead mice.  Sadly, a bunch of scientists like us all just looked at them and thought they were cool. 

We spent a few hours ripping up paneling, siding, and all the rest.  It was really fun.  After that, I did some framing in the kitchen, which involved drilling into the concrete.  For those of you who didn't know, concrete doesn't like to be drilled into, so you have to use the Ear Drum Blower 3000 drill.  I wish I had thought to bring ear protection.

Then, after all that, I came home and wasted most of the rest of my day.  Yippee for wasting days!

Three posts in one week?

This one is way less exciting than the other two.  I'm just bored and wanting to share my boredom with the interwebs.

It is official now, I am actually a grad student.  I have a lab bench and a desk and everything.  All I don't have is...anything to do today.  I'll be plenty busy next week, but just not today.  I even get to come in tomorrow morning (a SATURDAY, mind you) but just not today.  Thankfully, one of the other grad students isn't in today (with the 3 day weekend coming up she decided to make it a 4 day weekend) so I can use her computer.

My project in this lab will be pretty interesting.  To people who are interested in bacteriology.  If you're not one of those people, skip down to the next post about me buying a ring for Kate.  That's probably more your style.

So, for the faithful who stayed with me, I'll give a quick summary.  Partly to enlighten you, but mostly because I'm friggin bored.  Here we go:

Most bacteria can form biofilms.  If you're really curious what those are, follow the link, but if not here's a working definition:

When a bacterial colony wants to dig trenches and settle in for the long haul, they form a biofilm.

That's about it.  Biofilms make a convenient base of operations for the bacteria because they can fortify their position against antibiotics and the like, and they send out (basically) raiding parties to cause problems in other parts of the body.  These raiding parties can be killed by antibiotics or by the immune system, but the biofilm itself, the base of operations, stays secure.  This is the cause of most persistent, chronic infections.

I will be looking at factors that influence biofilm formation, either signaling the bacteria to form one when they usually wouldn't, or not to form one when they usually would.  I'll be doing a high-throughput screen and test about 2,000 compounds...fun.

So, right now I am just proving that I am able to do the project, growing and measuring biofilms in conditions where they are supposed to form, and not growing them in conditions where they aren't supposed to.  Which amounts to lots of sitting and waiting for the bacteria to grow.  If you've ever watched grass grow or paint dry, this is very similar.

Man, I'm bored.

Edit:

Here's my lab, thanks to the magic of Google street view

As promised, more stories

Alright, folks, here's what happened.  For those of you who want it, Kate's version (which is mostly true) is here.

It starts back in May.  Kate and I went ring shopping.  We didn't plan on getting too specific (yeah, like I believe that...), but by the end of the shopping trip we had picked out the very ring.  Much to the dissapointment of the folks at the jeweler, we left with no ring in hand.  This happened for several reasons, but one of them was that it is a big investment and I don't like buying something like that without doing serious looking around.  Heck, I don't like buying socks without some serious looking around.

When I told the family that I was looking at rings, I heard that I should ask Mark, a family friend who is a jeweler in Salt Lake.  That was where Dad bought Mom's ring.  I contacted Mark and found a ring I really liked.  I liked it better than the one we picked together, but it still had the qualities that she said she liked about the other one.  I really liked it.  Anyway, by this time Kate had left Utah for Texas, so there wasn't much rush to buy - I had a month before I was going to see her again. 

I was also told of another friend of a friend named Roger who was also a jeweler (I swear, everyone I know knows a jeweler).  I got in touch with Roger, and he took a while getting back with me.  He scoffed at the size I wanted, and was only able to find me one that small in the cut I wanted.  (In my defense, it was not a terribly small diamond, it's just a cut that is generally used for huge friggin things).  He gave me the price on that one small diamond (again, small to him, not to me), which cost WAY more than Mark was saying, and several more that were all much bigger (and further out of my price range).  He assured me that I had misheard Mark, and that no one could get me a .75 carat asscher cut diamond ring for less than $4000, and that he was coming down quite a bit to get me that $4000 as it was. 

Anyway, I did not spend $4000.  Sorry if that disapoints anybody.  I thanked Roger for his time and called Mark to say we were a go.  On June first, I drove up to Salt Lake to finalize everything.  Because I was going to drive from Provo to Texas, and I didn't want to lose the ring in the car, I told Mark to do what he had to do and then just ship the ring to Mom and Dad's house in Texas.

Mark told me that he had the diamond there, but that the setting he would have to order special (I had seen the diamond in person, but only seen the setting as a picture).  It would take about 2 weeks from that day for him to order it, receive it, set it, ship it, and for me to get it.  That seemed pretty great to me.

Two weeks later (ie, the day he said it would already be in Texas), it was Monday.  I was getting ready to leave Provo on Tuesday and still hadn't heard anything so I called Mark.  He told me that getting the setting was taking longer than he expected, but it would get there soon and he would keep me posted.

I drove to Texas Tuesday and Wednesday, picked Kate up in Daingerfield, and drove to Huntsville Thursday.  Still no ring.  But at that point, it was harder to call Mark since Kate was around.  She spent Thursday and Friday in Huntsville, and I drove her home Friday night and came back to Huntsville on Saturday morning alone.

I didn't have a chance to talk to Mark till Monday.  I called him again and explained that there was a bit of hurry-up involved in the situation.  He told me that the setting had still not come, but that he expected it that day.  He would set it and ship it the next day (Tuesday) and I would have it in my hand on Wednesday.  Kate came down for another visit Tuesday and Wednesday. 

Now, let me remind you, dear reader, that Kate has known for some time that she was getting a ring.  She has been expecting it.  Tuesday at lunch she asked, ever so sweetly, "where the hell's my ring, you jerk?" and I answered that it just wasn't here yet.  Which was true.  I said that I was very frustrated, which was also true.  I also said that I had talked to the jeweler and that he didn't have the setting yet, but that it would be in soon.  That had at one point been true, so I figured it was OK.  I just figured that if she knew what it looked like, and she knew that it was coming, at least I could surprise her with the exact timing.

On Wednesday, Dad wanted to take us out to lunch, and I realized when Mom, Kate, and I were in the car together that there would be nobody home for an hour and if the fedex guy came, he would miss us.  It was too late to say anything without raising suspicion, so I just hoped the guy wouldn't come till we got back.

He did.

When we got back, there was a tag on the door saying the fedex guy had come, and we could either pick up the package after 7 in Conroe, or they would deliver it tomorrow.  I snuck off and called fedex.  I explained to them that the package had a diamond ring inside, and that the finger that ring was going on was leaving town in about 2 hours.  They called the driver and the driver called me back a few minutes later saying he was in Riverside making deliveries and could wait for me for a couple minutes.

I told Kate and Mom (Mom knew) that fedex needed a David Payne to sign for a package containing medicine for Dad, and since Dad was busy I was going to pick it up.  Not my best lie ever, but it worked.  Kate and I drove out to get the package and came back without anything interesting happening.

One more semi-relevent piece of backstory.  Last year, John bought me a bookbox for my birthday.  I've kept it in my front room since then filled with candy.  People who spend time in apartment 6 know it well.  It's something of an inside joke for us, and Kate was on the inside of that joke.  So, I thought I was very clever and bought a bookbox of Lord of the Rings to give to Kate.

When we got back from picking up the ring, I asked Mom to put the ring in the Lord of the Rings, and wrap the whole thing up like a birthday present (both because she could make it prettier than I could and because I was going to be busy distracting Kate). Later in the day, Kate and I were sitting on the porch talking on the swing.  We had talked previously about the fact that I was going to give her an early Birthday present (since I wouldn't be in Texas for her real birthday).  I asked her if since the ring wasn't here yet, she would want to open the part of her birthday surprise that was. She, of course, said yes.  Who says no to presents?

I went inside, and got the book box, wrapped up in wrapping paper like a birthday present should be.  I came out and said "It's about time you had one of these.  Keep it on your coffee table."  Those two statements were, of course, about different parts of the gift, but I tried to play it cool so she would only think about the second part and think about a book box.

She unwrapped it and knew it was not a real book, but thought there was only candy or something like that inside (since she knows that's what I keep in mine).  When she opened it, there was a small jewelry box inside.  Remember that she thought that the ring wasn't here yet, so she thought that it was earrings or some other small piece of jewelry.  She opened the ring and stared at it for a while.  Then she put it on and stared at it for a while.

And that's about the end of the fun part of the story.  The rest is hugging and showing the ring to Mom and stuff like that.  And let's be honest, that's not exciting to anybody but us.  The exciting part is that she said yes.

Hats off to Lenny

Well, folks, it's been a while since I checked in.  And life's been busy for that while.  I figure I ought to do some updating.

So, in the last month or so, I finished up my time in Provo, drove 2000 miles to Texas, proposed to Kate, drove 2000 more miles to Michigan, and started grad school.

That's a lot to cover, but I'm sure you'll either slog through it or you won't.  One of those. 

The Drive

I finished fixing Lenny, thanks mostly to Jason Lillrose.  I'm sure he doesn't read this blog, so I can publicly thank him without him getting mad.  I was really worried Lenny wouldn't make it.  After months of taking up space in the garage, Lenny got new heart valves and I took him out for a drive.  We went to Salt Lake and back to make sure that he could take the strain of highway driving.

Lenny got a clean bill of health so I packed him up with all my stuff and got ready to go.  I was surprised that everything I own fit in a Ford Taurus, but I guess I just don't have that much stuff.

I drove down through Southern Utah, Colorado and New Mexico, passing really close to the 4 corners.  The highways were pretty good and I made really good time.  There was a long stretch in Colorado with 250 miles of nothing.  I mean nothing.  No towns, no houses, nothing.  There was one thing in all that nothing: a single town about 100 miles in with a single stoplight.  Lenny died at that stoplight.  It was a miracle.  Not only did he die at the only place in hundreds of miles with cell reception, but he also died right across from a restaurant, so it was the only place in hundreds of miles with air conditioning. 

I pulled into the restaurant parking lot (I had to push it into a parking spot), called Jason, and had went inside for a burger while he figured it out (he had access to Google so he got to do the hard parts for me).  We discussed various possibilities, and one of them involved just letting everything cool down.  After the burger, I went out and tried Lenny.  He started up and everything was hunky-dorey. 

I made it to Jason's brother Micah's house in albuquerque where I bedded down for the night.  Early...ish the next morning I headed out to try for the drive to Daingerfield (where Kate lives).  Lenny coughed at about 2 PM, and I thought he was going to die, but before he had the chance I pulled off and went to a gas station.  I figured that a few minutes rest and a full tank of gas would do Lenny some good (more advice from Jason).

Lenny went on for a while, but then in the hottest part of the afternoon, right at rush hour I hit Dallas.  Lenny did not like Dallas.  And the stop and go meant that he died 3 or 4 times trying to get across the city.  I finally pulled off the highway and let him cool down for a long time so I could miss traffic.

I got to Daingerfield and stayed with JoAnne and Joseph, Kate's brother and sister-in-law.  JoAnne reads my blog, which makes her awesome.

The next day, I drove Kate to Huntsville.  It was a short enough trip that Lenny didn't have any problems, which was nice.

And looking at the length of this post, I'm starting to see that I won't get to nearly as much as expected.  I'll skip on to the trip to Michigan, and get to the proposal and all that in another post.

While I was home, someone suggested that my car problems might have something to do with a very (VERY) old fuel filter.  I changed the filter, with some small trouble due to the fact that I don't have a jack.  I should probably fix that at some point. 

Anyway, the point is, I changed the filter and hoped that it would help Lenny.  It didn't.  Or at least not much.  He died during the trip.  I felt him starting to die, so I pulled off to the side of the road.  After I was already on the shoulder, I saw in front of me a cardboard box.  It was too late to swerve back into the lane to avoid the box, and I wasn't going to go onto the grass, so I just hit it straight on.  Turns out it wasn't a box.

The box was actually a giant brown cinder block, like you see in landscaping.  I hit a big piece of concrete with my car.

After some frustrated venting (with no swearing, I'm proud to add) I got out and checked everything out.  One piece of plastic molding fell off, but nothing serious was hurt.  I was very thankful.

I stayed the night at a motel 6 in Illinois, and let me say, I was underwhelmed.  Even for a motel 6, it was rustic.  No alarm clock, not even a little bottle of shampoo.  Just a bed and a TV and a door that wouldn't deadbolt.  I woke up at 5:30, showered, and hit the road nice and early.  I was trying to get as many miles down before the roads got crowded, which means I may have been going a little bit over the speed limit.  Mom and Dad, please skip to the next paragraph.  So, an hour or two into the trip, I was going 110 in a 65 (my speed got away from me, I wasn't trying to go that fast...Lenny just gets excited when he gets to remember his cop days).  I saw a highway patrollman, and slowed down but it took me too long.  I was still going 90 when he saw me.  Whoopsie.  Ticket.

So, now Mom and Dad are rejoining us.  What you missed is that I am a very responsible driver and a good son.

About 12:30 Sunday afternoon, I pulled into Ft. Wayne, Indiana.  I was 2 hours from Ypsilanti (new home), and decided that Lenny and I could both use a good break.  He had been good all day, so I wanted to give him a good rest before getting back on the highway.  I pulled into a movie theater and watched Knight and Day, which was moderately ammusing, but most of the best bits were in the trailer. 

I came out from the movie at about 3, and was totally ready to start up Lenny and get going.  When I started Lenny, there were some awful, awful noises coming from under the hood.  It sounded like somebody sharpening an axe on one of those old grind-stones.  Bad bad news.  I popped it, and spent some time trying to figure out what was wrong.  After some calls to Jason, some staring under the hood and some serious praying, I guessed that the power steering pump had gone bad, which made me really mad since I just put the dang thing in there.

I found (and by that I mean "Jason found") the only mechanic in town who was open on a Sunday afternoon, but he was closing soon.  I limped Lenny over to the mechanic, who was closing as I pulled in.  One of the guys there offered to do it as freelance work, so I followed him home.  It took forever, and I worried every minute of the way that Lenny wasn't going to make it. 

It's an easy enough repair if you have the tools, but I just didn't.  So, the guy started pulling off the power steering pump and I saw that the problem wasn't the pump itself, but one of the bolts holding it in.  The bolt had worked itself out and was rubbing up against a pulley.  The pulley had rubbed the entire head off the bolt.  Half an inch of steel.  So, that explains the awful noise.

Extremely long story reduced to only long, I got a new bolt, put it in, and got on the road.  The mechanic didn't screw me (at least partly because I knew enough to not let him) and his crazy meth head neighbor didn't steal any of my stuff either.  All in all, a good experience.

When I got back on the road, it started raining so hard I couldn't see 25 feet.  It was frightening.  I turned off the radio and started singing hymns about guidance (Lead Kindly Light, for instance) until the rain stopped.  Lame as it sounds, it made me feel better.

The rain did stop, and I made it to Michigan.  Despite the fact that folks here think street signs are not worth putting up, I found my new house.

And now this post is definitely long enough.  More fun stories in another post.

Because you can't buy a bald eagle

So, right now I'm watching the world cup (yes, I'm still white, it's just a one-time thing).  America is playing England, and the awesomest commercial came on.  Here it is for your viewing pleasure.

May

May is a very special month for me.  It is the month when we celebrate the birth of one of my favorite people.  I am talking, of course, about John.  Not me.  Because that would be silly.

More about my birthday in a later post (it's not for another week, even though I started celebrating yesterday).  This one is about another reason May is important.  May is Zombie Awareness Month.  So put on a gray ribbon and spread the word!

Avatar

So, the other night I watched Avatar.  It was OK.  Really long, though. 

I slept through lots of the boring John Smith Jake / Pocahontas Neytiri love story.  I think that was the right choice.  The last half hour or so is full of great fighting, including a bunch of blue CGI guys versus a bunch of CGI robot guys. 

In summary, long movie.  If you've only got half an hour, watch the last half an hour.  If you've only got a few seconds but still want to get the gist of it, watch from 1:30 to 1:36 of this.  That pretty much sums it up.

Graduation

Well, here I am.

On Friday I walked across the stage, shook hands with my Dean (I honestly didn't recognize him- that says something about my attempts at getting to know the folks in charge), and got an empty diploma holder from the chair of the Micro and Molecular Biology department. 

I'm not sure what else to say about it.  I feel like I ought to say something about graduating, but there's not much to say.  Mom and Dan came to see me, which was fun.  Dad couldn't make it, but his office ladies surprised him by throwing me a graduation party in Huntsville.  They are so sweet and treat him (and all of us) so well.  Since Dad wasn't here, we made a trip to Stan's in his honor.  I love Stan's, but I think mostly it's nostalgia.  It reminds me of Dad. 

After the festivities and a few pictures, we headed up to Salt Lake to spend a couple days with Grandma.  One of the first orders of business was to buy Dan a guitar.  Yes, you read that right.  We bought a guitar for Dan.  He bought the one that Mom and I liked the sound of and he liked the way the vibrations felt.  When we got home we had a very interesting discussion about music.  For those of you who have never tried to explain music theory to a deaf man, let me just say that it is harder than you think.  Explaining things like why some intervals sound pleasant and others sound unpleasant is hard.

It was nice to see family at dinner last night.  John Nagel tried to be happy for me going to Michigan (despite calling it "That School Up North"), Roger sang for a while and played Dan's guitar (which is always fun) and we ate lots of good food.

All in all, a good graduation.

Let my scripture go!

An engineer walked into his office one day and saw that his trash can was on fire.  He called the fire department, explained the situation, and they explained how to use a fire extinguisher.  He got the extinguisher and put it out with no problems.

The next day, our engineer walks into a friend's office and sees that his trash can is also on fire.  The engineer tells his friend not to panic.  He picks up the flaming trash can, runs it down the hall, up the stairs, through the conference room and back to his own office.  The engineer puts the trash can down on the floor in the spot where his own trash can belongs, then gets the fire extinguisher and puts it out.

I heard this joke one day from my computer science professor.  The point is that engineers don't like to solve new problems.  Instead, they turn new problems into old problems that they already know how to solve.  The reason I bring this up is that I was thinking about it yesterday in Sunday School.  This year we are doing the Old Testament, which I think most people (other than Jews) are a bit afraid of. 

Yesterday's lesson about the Exodus and the Passover turned into a lesson about the stories in the Book of Mormon where the Lord frees people from captivity.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love the Book of Mormon, and I feel like it's important that we learn about it. I love those stories, and the message about the Lord's power to free us from the bondage of sin is very clear and beautiful in those stories.  But I also love the Old Testament, and this is the year we are supposed to be learning about it.

I feel like as a church, we are prone to converting unfamiliar material into the same old lesson over and over again.  And that's sad.  I mean, a lesson on the first 14 chapters of Exodus that mentions Moses's name fewer times than Alma's?  That's just not right.

Am I just being too picky?

Birthday fest

Tonight was Jenni's birthday.  Actually, I guess all of today was her birthday, but tonight is when we did fun stuff.

Several of us went to the park and had some burgers.  Frisbees were thrown, False Advertising Cake was eaten, and presents were opened.  A good time was had by all.

Then we came home and watched Stardust.  There are just a couple of things I have trouble with in that movie.  If I had to sum it up in three words, they would be Gay Zeppelin Pirate.  I mean, GayZeppelinPirate.  That and the fact that our protagonist goes from a bumbling dork to a swashbuckling stud with long hair in 1 week.  Five days on the pirate ship.  Seriously.  You can't put things like that in a story and expect nerds not to complain.  That's just about standards.

Those things aside, it was a fun night.  And after dealing with the ... shall we say, special?... kids in my Technical Writing Group, I needed a fun night.

Homenum Revelio!!

Friends, another important step has been taken toward the invisible motorcycle.  I know you've all been following this closely.  Now they can do it with visible light.  Seriously.  Visible spectrum light.  Jet packs was yes!

Shabbes!

Last night (before The Iron Man Mystery Hour) I celebrated Sabbath with my Hebrew class.  It was fun.  There were some tactical mistakes made (serving felafel without plates...oy, what a mess), but all in all it was a really good time.

After blessing various things (bread, wine, children, etc) and eating and singing, we had a recitation competition.  I didn't really plan on winning since I didn't put much time into mine (or maybe I got that causality backwards.  It's hard to say).  I recited a Shel Silverstein poem translated into Hebrew.  Here are both versions:

עליסא
היא לגמה מבקבוק שׁקראו לו לגמיני
וגדלה וגדלה כמו הר
היא אכלה מצלחת שׁקראו לה אכליני
וקטנה וקטנה כמו אכבר
והיא כך הישׁתנתה כּשׁהרבה אחרים
מעולם לוא נסו שׁום דבר

Alice
She drank from a bottle called DRINK ME
And up she grew so tall
She ate from a plate called EAT ME
And down she shrank so small
And so she changed, while other folks
Never tried nothin at all

I really like that poem.  It's short, it's nice, and it has an interesting message (trying things is good for you).

Anyway, I didn't win, but I was proud to lose to the guy who sang Rubber Ducky in Hebrew.  That dude deserves a medal.  At least.

Movie review: Sherlock Holmes

Last night I watched Sherlock Holmes. Or, as I like to call it, Mr. Iron Man Goes To Merry Olde England. Englande.

I won't ruin the plot for you, but I will go through some of the pertinent plot points. First, Sherlock Holmes is a ninja. Or something. Also, he solves crimes.

That's about it. Or at least that's all I can say without giving anything away. All in all, it was a very entertaining movie. Also, it was a surprisingly clean movie. There was some fighting, which wasn't too graphic, there was no sex (some very funny innuendo, but I thought the funnyness overrides the badness) and I don't remember any swearing.

Sherlock's accent was surprisingly good. I mean, who knew that our old friend Tony could sound that English?  And Jude Law was a great Dr Watson.  A+

Moving advice

So, friends and family, if there is one thing I know for sure, it's that you are all smart. If there's another, it's that you are all bossy generous when it comes to giving advice.

It so happens that I need some advice. Most of my readers (ie, most of John and Sam) have moved in the recent past. I am moving in the near future. Discuss!

OK, so maybe that's not enough to get you started. I get it. So, what I want to know is this: are there things you did when you moved that you are really proud of? I mean, are there things that just made you feel so darn clever? Are there things that you wish you had done smarter? How do I move cross-country without going nuts? And paying a whole lot?

Discuss!

Food is yummy

Hey, friends.

Some of you probably know that I am in a dinner group here in Provo. That means that I am in a group with 12 people, and we rotate cooking dinner for each other. Four days a week, every three weeks it's your turn. It's a pretty slick deal. This week was my last turn in the rotation, so it's my last chance to post my dinner recipes on here (which is something I meant to do every time so I could find them easier next time).

So, in a desperate attempt to tell winter to go away (it didn't work- it's still snowing), I made a summery meal. Pork burgers adapted from Emeril (Bam!), coleslaw, and a delicious blueberry coffee cake. I also made French fries from the frozen food isle...but that doesn't really need to be posted.

Pork burgers:
Cook 1.2 lbs chorizo (that's the size of the package I bought. Use more for spicier burgers, less for old-person burgers) and remove the membrane if it has one. Put the chorizo in a Cuisinart or find some other way of chopping it really small.
Mix chorizo with ~6 lbs ground pork (not sausage, just ground pork). Mix in 3T garlic powder (or 8 cloves actual garlic), 2T cajun seasoning, and 3T Worcestershire sauce.
Mix it all up pretty well and form into 16 patties (yes, it's a lot. I was cooking for a dozen people). One of these burgers is really enough for most people. Cook for about 10 minutes on a George Foreman (because it's snowing and you can't grill them outside).

Coleslaw:
I got this recipe from John who got it from someone else who got it from a magical summer elf. Or something like that.
Mix:
8C chopped cabbage (both kinds)
1C shredded carrot (I got lazy and actually bought shredded carrot)
1 jalapeno chopped up (without seeds, if you're a sissy)
1/4C finely chopped onion

In a seperate bowl, mix:
1C mayo
2T vinegar
just under 2T sugar
1T salt
Some pepper (I didn't measure it)

Mix dressing with veggies. Then sprinkle celery seed on top. It makes a lot of dressing, so you may want to just put some of it on at a time till it looks right instead of dumping it all in. It was also kind of bland, so I may include more salt next time and maybe even more onion. Not sure yet.

And the coup de grace, coffee cake. I found this recipe in Mom's recipe rolodex, and she has since lost it. So my flash drive was for a while the only copy in existence. And I lost it. Now that it is found, I want to not lose this recipe. So here it is:

Cake part:
Mix:
2C flour
1C sugar
1T baking powder
1t salt
1/3 C butter
1C milk
1 egg
Add half of the mixture to a greased 9x13 pan (other sizes DO NOT WORK as well. Trust me). Add 1C blueberries (NOT more- it sounds like a good idea, but the balance is off and it's less awesome that way). Then add the rest of the batter

Topping:
1/3C brown sugar
1/4C flour
1/2t cinnamon
3T butter

Mix topping and put on the top of everything else. Bake 40 mins at 350.

Top with glaze:
1C powdered sugar
2T milk
1/4 t vanilla

Eat and be happy.

Decisions

Well, without lots of undue windup, here we go.

I'm going to the University of Michigan.  I'll probably be starting in July.  So...now I have to figure out lots of the fun things like moving.  Blerg.

IEATAPETA day

Hello, friends.  Today was a fabulous, crabulous day.  It was my favorite holiday.  International Eat A Tasty Animal for PETA day.  Yummy.

To I've celebrated this day before, so I have no need to explain how the holiday works.  But because I am merciful, here is somebody else explaining it.

This is my report:

For breakfast, I had cow's milk.  Yummy.
For lunch, I ate a cow, a pig, and a chicken.  Yum.
And for dinner, my crowning achievement, I had sushi.  This included:

• Tuna
• Albacore (which is apparently different)
• Salmon
• Red Snapper
• Softshell Crab
• Eel
• Shrimp
• Smelt (actually just the eggs, but you know how I stand on abortion- those are animals)
• Yellow Tail
• Mackerel

I was even going to brave Squid, but they were out.  Sad.

Anybody beat that count?

Strange hobbies

You know, I've heard lots of strange things people do to amuse themselves.  Watch anime, play rugby, knit, etc.  But this one takes the cake.  Punching kids.  This old guy punches kids in the back of the head for kicks.  He likes the thrill of getting away with it while their parents are right there.

You know what makes it even better?  He does it in Walmart.

Guess who's published?

This guy.

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/nuccore/284794768

I've said it before...

...but women are nuts.  Or maybe just people are nuts.  Read the first paragraph or so to see what I mean.  Wow.

Grad school stuff

Hey, all.

So, I've been pretty quiet about grad school information with you guys.  This has two big reasons. 

1. I don't want to say things before I'm sure about them
2. I'm incredibly lazy and just haven't gotten around to it

I'll let you decide which was the major contributing factor.  So, here's the news.

I applied to six schools.  Washington University, University of Michigan, University of Texas Southwestern, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Princeton University, and University of Chicago.  Chicago misfiled my application somehow and by the time I heard from them (asking me for some information before they could process it) I had already set up 4 other interviews, and just didn't think I would have the time and stamina to go there.  So I told them to just throw out my application.  One down.

Princeton called me to offer an interview, but I don't really want to live in Princeton.  It's expensive, among other things.  Also, they didn't take nearly as much care of me as the other places did, and I want to be at a grad school that works hard to take care of students.  Two down.

I went to interview at the other four, and really liked them all.  I went into the interviews thinking WashU was the clear leader of the pack, but after interviewing at them all, it's much muddier.  I was kind of hoping that some of the schools would reject me so I wouldn't have as hard of a decision to make, but all four accepted me.  Not that I'm complaining. Being accepted at four top-notch schools is a pretty awesome turn of events.

Now I have to figure out where I'm going.  Which will entail making a huge spreadsheet to try to compare everything I can.  But the schools are all so well matched that it will probably come down to a coin flip.  Anybody have a 4 sided coin?

Purim Tovim!

Hey, everybody.

Two thoughts.  One is I got accepted to all my graduate schools (even the one I thought I had no chance at).  There'll be more on that later.

Right now I want to talk about Purim.  Today (well, tonight) begins what I think will become my favorite holiday, Purim.  This is the celebration of Ester from the Old Testament.  I'll catch you after the movie.



So, there's the basics.  I'm celebrating this holiday tonight with my Hebrew class, and I think it might become a tradition for me.  Not all the dressing up and whatnot (it's like Halloween in that way), but the rest of it.  Then again, since there is a way more interesting symbolic reason for dressing up on Purim, maybe that will be part of my tradition.  Who knows.

Point is, I love Ester and I think I will love Purim.  So happy Purim, everybody!

Airport food

Well, folks, there are way more important things going on now in my life than airport food blogging.  But those things require thought.  And probably more than the 29 minutes of battery life I have left. 

Yesterday evening I was supposed to fly back from my last grad school interview (Michigan- don't worry, at some point I'll give a debrief of all 4).  They were oversold, which is bad.  Since it was Valentine's day today, they were pretty desperate to get people to volunteer to get bumped till today.  And since it is my 25th consecutive dateless Valentine's day, I figured it would be OK.  (For any die-hard David Payne fans, this is not a continuity error-I did once have a girlfriend on Valentine's day, but she was on a different continent and we did not, therefore, go on a date, so I still count it.)

They put me up in a hotel, bought me a free ticket any time later, upgraded me to first class, and bought me meals.  And that's where I'm going with this rambling post.  At the Detroit airport I ate at a place called America's Coney Island (or maybe American...I don't remember).  And it was delicious.

I got the best milkshake I have had in years (maybe it's just that I was hungry, but I still think it was great), as well as a pretty descent Gyro, which is hard to find here on this side of the pond.  I think it was one of the best Gyros I've had that wasn't cut from a meat-cone.  I mean, those are totally in a different league, but this was pretty darn good.

So, if you find yourself in Detroit, get a gyro.  And a milk shake.  And the cute waitress' phone number (which, alas, I did not).

Grad school update!

So, for those of you who I haven't talked to, I should probably sum up my recent visit to Washington University.  Long story short, I didn't get in.

I interviewed with three people based on my research interests, and those three interviews went very well.  We talked about science and it was very interesting.  The other person I interviewed with was less helpful.  She was actually pretty unpleasant.

I don't want to go into a lot of detail here, but she seems to have formed her judgment of me before I walked in, and just looked for justification for her stance rather than trying to make a decision based on the visit itself.  Oh well.

The rest of the visit was pretty fun.  We went on a great tour or St. Louis, saw some very nice apartments that the grad students lived in, and ate some great food.  All in all, if I somehow get accepted and they can promise me that I will never have to interact with that hostile professor, I would seriously consider going there.