yankee republicans

Today, Pres. Obama signed a "fair pay" act into law, the first bill-signing of his presidency. There were mostly some high-up Democrats present, a nice old lady from Alabama, and the two female senators from Maine. (Yes, they're both Republicans. No no, not that kind of Republican, they're Yankee Republicans. Don't worry about it.)

The ceremony, and a reception afterward in the State Dining Room of the White House, had a celebratory feel. The East Room was packed with advocates for civil rights and workers rights; the legislators, who included House and Senate leaders and two moderate Republicans — Senators Susan Collins and Olympia Snowe, both of Maine — shook Mr. Obama’s hand effusively (some, including House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, received presidential pecks on the cheek) as he took the stage.

The whole "presidential pecks on the cheek" language bullshit pretty much deflated the whole gender-equality tone for me--but I'm still totally psyched to see my ever-beloved senators getting such big air-time. Snowe's been around for a while, but Collins is still somewhat new (in senator years, anyway), only having been there a couple terms -ish.

Ok...after several minutes of google searching, then giving up and remembering I had read this great line about Snowe from slate.com...I found the article I was looking for. (I just gave google all sorts of hilarious search data, from "olympia snowe puppies roses" to "mainers send olympia snowe babies"...) Here is an excerpt from an article written in advance of the 2004 presidential election, entitled "Maine: The state that could go for Kerry and Bush." (For those of you unaware, this is a reference to the weird way Maine doles out electoral college votes. Nebraska does it, too.)

... But in Maine, entrenched Republicans and die-hard Democrats are outnumbered by independents, who make up 39 percent of the state's voters. And when that many votes are in play for each election, things get notably weird.

Maine, for example, has had independent governors for 12 of the past 30 years. H. Ross Perot had his best showings in Maine: In 1992, he won 30 percent of the vote, taking second place and beating hometown honey George H.W. Bush; in 1996, he won 14 percent. In 2000, Nader won 6 percent of the vote. (More on that later.) The 2nd congressional seat is currently held by a pro-life Democrat, but it was held by a pro-choice Republican as recently as 1994. And Maine is devoted to its senior senator, the moderate Republican Olympia Snowe. Every single person I spoke to in Maine was a fan—I wouldn't be surprised if they regularly send her roses and kittens and first-born children. "She really represents Maine," I heard, from Republicans, Democrats, and independents alike. Maine voters like Snowe's moderate politics—she's your typical Yankee Republican (one of the last of the breed), fiscally conservative and socially liberal—and they also admire her willingness, on occasion, to tell Republican leaders to shove it. "Olympia," they say, "doesn't just vote the party line."

...

The rest of the article is just plain gold writing. Definitely worth a read if you are ever trying to understand Maine--our people or our culture in general. (They even talk about the "Two Maines"...ooh, scandalous.)

the new ladies who lunch

An article from the NYT, about the girlfriends/wives/mistresses of well-to-do Wall Street dudes, who are now feeling the crunch of our economic meltdown.

I got a little angry over this part:

Dawn Spinner Davis, 26, a beauty writer, said the downward-trending graphs began to make sense when the man she married on Nov. 1, a 28-year-old private wealth manager, stopped playing golf, once his passion. “One of his best friends told me that my job is now to keep him calm and keep him from dying at the age of 35,” Ms. Davis said. “It’s not what I signed up for.”

Au contraire, girlfriend, that's exactly what you signed up for. Or did you miss the part about 'for better or for worse, in sickness and in health'?

Much like the "unexamined life is not worth living", I think the unexamined reasons for marriage result in a marriage not worth much at all. (Well, unless the only dimension of "worth" you concern yourself with is financial...)

clearly canadian

There is something deeply annealing about true winter weather--and having been raised on it year-after-year for a total sum that can be described in decades. And not just personally annealing. It forms inter-personal bonds, which in turn beget communities, the dynamics of which beget this nebulous thing we call sometimes call culture and sometimes call society. (Those unafraid of being labeled "new age" often dare to call it the collective consciousness.) And all of this is then turned around again into stamping the individual with a unique blend of self-identity (that as we all know, is not exactly entirely self-formed).

This is not a strand of humanity that can be learned after the fact, or through stories or any sort of second-hand interaction. This is a you've-either-got-it-or-you-don't type thing.

"so, screw california"

(uh oh...this new pandora thing makes my music references really easy to figure out sometimes...)

One theme I have increasingly become aware of as I have grown is that much of what we encounter on a day-to-day basis is "human-made". Rules, laws, mores--all constructed by us humans. (Realizing this as a kid could have been a ready salve for many an angst, but alas...)

When I first moved to Burlington, I wrote several songs. Full-fledged songs with words and chords and everything, that I still often sing in the shower or on walks, etc. (Someday I will make myself brandish them at an open-mic night somewhere...) One of them was about softly shaking my head on behalf of people that think they can run away towards some external idea and it would suddenly make everything internal better. My first chorus throws a jab at people romanticizing California. This evening I discovered someone else has put the same thing in a song, too. (...hence this blog post title...not my words, but this other song's...)

So, having poked plenty of scorn at other people clinging to social or personal constructs, it's only prudent to turn that same scorn on myself from time to time. This round is about relationships. Why do I think I want one? Do I really? And if so, and if I am fortunate to find one...who's to say it will last. These are questions which I once thought I had answers to...and now...I don't know. And what's more, I don't know if I ever will have the answers.

I want something to believe in. (Something personally constructed.) I need something to believe in. Can I give that to myself?...I don't know. I'm not sure what it would even be, this thing to believe in. This is an interesting bit of philosophy that I'm sure entire books have been written about over the past several hundred years. But maybe everybody just has to figure it out for themself.

I'm just gonna do what I gotta do (as John Legend--stealing Aretha's chords--would say...) Maybe constructs are just made to be broken, and you can only ever count on yourself.

"This next song, I don't know if you've heard it. It's a song about cheating. But it's a nice, sexy song about cheating. It kinda makes you wanna cheat. It's called, 'She Don't Have to Know'..." --John Legend at the end of a live track

(And despite myself and everything I stand for...I really like that goddamn song...)

no really, he's that awesome

(...more serious writing about "monastic aspirations" continues to be postponed, likely until the weekend, when this crazy week is behind me.)

Now is just a quick bit of wit, from two Maine natives expressing shameless admiration for one of our favorite sons:



And now...
"Goodnight, you princes of Maine, kings of New England."

two songs you MUST listen to

Spending Sunday late-night figuring out what music and Mathematica have in common. (Well, I already know what they have in common, but I need to figure out an articulate way to put it...) A perfect soundscape for such an endeavor, I figured, was the algorithmically-generated playlists of Pandora. I've been a huge fan of this site for a while now...but just tonight I created a new station based on the artist Rogue Wave. This may now be my favorite station in my account there...even better than some of the ones I've spent months tweaking to my every musical whim! I don't want to jinx anything, but I've been listening to this station for well over an hour or so now, and I haven't needed to hit the "next" button once...

Anyway, I came across two songs everyone must absolutely check out (and probably in this order):

"Elevator Love Letter" by Stars
"In The Morning" by The Coral

And might I suggest as a low tempo palette-cleanser:

"Crush the Camera" by Rogue Wave

You're welcome. ...back to work.


(so much for work... 11:27 pm update: just figured out how to put a classy sidebar on my blog listing my most recent Pandora song bookmarks. Oh, technology.)

monastic aspirations, pt. 1

For someone who is not remotely religious, and, has somewhat fallen off the spiritual wagon in the past year or so (for reasons of not having had anyone to talk Eastern philosophy with in a long time, not bothering to re-read favorite texts from said philosophy, and increasingly taking on more of a cold, mathematical view of the universe) I find I am oddly enough continuing to develop "monastic aspirations".

Someday I would really love to go vegan. I realize, however, that such an attempt would probably be doomed to failure because:

1. I can't eat soy, and not a lot of commercial foods aimed at vegans use sources of protein other than that. I would probably spend a lot of time in the kitchen as a mad scientist, trying to extract protein from other plant sources. (Actually, this doesn't sound so bad.) I've heard you can do it with wheat gluten.

...and then more earthly whining...

2. I like seafood.
3. I love yogurt (both for taste and protein) and cheese.

I can however, continue to iterate my diet towards a more vegan-esque makeup. The current thing I am working on jettisoning is milk. I don't really need milk. I use it in cereal and baking. These uses can withstand alternative substances. I've already written about how the rice milk from Full Circle pretty much sucks, and today I've got some more positive news. I finally found the little repository of alternative dairy-like beverages at Schnuck's yesterday. And was totally stoked to find they had almond milk. (They also had a few brands of soy and rice milk--even Rice Dream brand, which is, as far as rice milk goes, pretty good--but I am giving up on those two for obvious reasons.) They had one brand of almond milk, so I got a quart each of the two versions: original and vanilla. I have already gone all the way through the vanilla one. This stuff is good. Evidently they make oat milk, too. I am so trying it (even if I must trek to Urbana or even buy it online...)

I have more to write, specifically regarding grad school and love, but these will have to be writings for other times. I've got a lot to do today and should get to working on all of it...

"there's something wrong with being copied in a memo, in the form of a big ugly demo..."

So I'm spending Friday night in. This is perfectly ok because, one, I could have gone out dancing with friends tonight but pansy-ed out (because I'm tired and broke) and two, because I've got stuff going on both Saturday and Sunday nights. (Actually, when I put it that way...I should probably be being productive tonight...hm, nah...) So instead I will recount a tale of my Saturday previous.

I get excited about little things. I'm not sure if this is inherently who I am, or someone I became at some time in my life for purposes of coping with said life, but I do know by this point it is essential to my being. There is this bar in town that has all sort of goodies in the ladies' room, including body lotion, spray-on deodorant, hair spray, peppermints, and (free) tampons. Now let me tell you--when you have dry skin, as I do, you very much appreciate when a business is intelligent enough to put lotion in the bathroom. Washing hands and then not putting lotion on in the winter is rather uncomfortable. =( So suffice it to say, this place already had my allegiance. Well, I was prevented from being a hermit last Saturday by a couple of work buddies who were going to this place for dinner and drinks (including the dude responsible for the introvert/extrovert quote in a previous post). I hadn't been to this place in a while, and was happily surprised by the newest addition to the restroom luxuries:



Washcloths to dry one's hands with! How awesome is that?! There was a little sign on the paper towel dispenser saying something like "restroom amenities provided by staff. soiled cloth hand towels in hamper, paper towels in trash". Drying one's hands with cloth is a lot less rough on dry skin than paper towels, so this is just a dream come true for me. Plus, my little inner hippie is very impressed that they are also cutting down on their paper waste.

Besides the washcloths, the rest of the evening was very lovely, also. It's nice to begin to feel less and less like a hermit. My work buddies were glad that I seem to have finally come out of a months-long funk and am being sociable again. A lot of people have had a lot of really nice things to say about me in the past week. I don't really know why all this positivity is converging on me all of a sudden, but it sure is well-timed, I'd say. There were also a couple not-so-nice things said about me this week (evidently I'm an even worse judge of character than I realized, or more accurately, I'm even better at deliberately ignoring my character judging abilities than I realized...), but the balance of it all is still positive enough to prevent me from getting down. Even though I'm somewhat in a holding pattern this first part of the year while I wait to see where the second half will take me, I'm quickly discovering there is still enough friendship in this foreign land to keep me from crashing into the Hudson.

out of context

You know, with a different picture, this ad could take on a whole other meaning. (But that program probably wouldn't be suitable for PBS. Unless it was sufficiently "artistic".)



In other news, yesterday's brooding has been downgraded to something that could probably be taken care of by one of those really small Ben & Jerry's cups. However, upon realizing (while chatting yesterday eve with my recently-turned-health-nut little bro, who was--despite said health-nut-ness--eating a pint of oatmeal cookie B&J's) that I hadn't eaten any of their ice cream in oh...well, at least since I left Vermont, I've decided it's time to fix that. Tomorrow, at lunch. And I'm probably going to go for the pint, but it's also probably going to be the low-fat, fro-yo Half-Baked.

And if you don't know what the following is all about, then you should probably go look it up... (oh, Google...is there anything you can't make interesting?)

"when sad," she said, "i do what i do best. i take to the keys."

Endings she could handle, misunderstandings...she could not. But it was out of her hands now, and what would be, would be.

This one would have to be settled the old-fashioned way, she feared...with some Ben & Jerry's and a fresh haircut.

word

Ok, it's official. I miss Burlington. =(

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27752501/

(The downtown co-op they mention is where I used to work! woot!)

"he's just not that into you"

Points if you can name the source of that quote.

So, I have had my mind changed this morning. I am aware of the fact that I am a very stubborn person (but I would maintain, not-arrogantly, that this is just because I frequently have already thought well through whatever is being talked about...this is more of an affliction than something to be proud of), however, I also know that my mind is definitely changeable when someone makes a particularly good and articulate point. And I know that this is all a very genuine construct in my brain due to the rather marked feelings of happy and relief that arise when someone else makes a good point to change my mind. Sort of like that person is taking over the wheel for a moment in my continual quest to map and understand the world, and giving me a moment to rest.

This is a particularly good and articulate point about why being single is great. Hope you have some time to read, as it's seven freaking pages long. Actually, it's not just one point, but an article stuffed full of great points. Definitely worth a read. (Well, if you're single at least...)

With that little trinket of good thought having been delivered, I am now setting myself to the task of finishing my last grad school application. Adventure cannot wait around for accompanying gentlemen.

way to normal

"'Are you an introvert or an extrovert?' ... Fucking shit."
--lunch buddy on Thursday, describing himself emailing with potential lady friends


(DISCLAMIER: I fucking love Ben Folds. If you know me at all, you already are aware of this.)

How self-neglectful have I been, to have gone 3 months without checking out Ben Folds's latest album? Anyway, suffice it to say I am finally checking it out, and he's making me believe life is really all that worth living again, like usual. (At least if one owns a piano or has access to one in the woods...I am working on saving for one, for whatever space I will inhabit beginning next fall...) In conclusion: Ben Folds + Regina Spektor + piano = true love. And I'm not even a huge Regina Spektor fan.

This week for me was denser than the irrationals in the reals. (My little math joke. hah.) Work was crazy, but the great news there is that I am moving to a much sweeter desk as of Monday; I carted all my stuff to my new location at the end of the day today. As for my personal life (yes, I'm really beginning to have one of those again!), after tomorrow I will be done done done with working on my grad school applications. And then I will begin having a fun, restful existence again. I'm rather looking forward to it...after all, that is one of the perks of being a working stiff as opposed to a student--the relaxation factor.

I'm not sure if it's just heightened sensitivity due to the fact I am not in a relationship right now (albeit freshly at peace with the end of the last one), but it seems like the whole world is getting engaged or at least just plain in a relationship. Strangely enough, I didn't seem to notice this when I was still acutely in broken-heart pain, so I guess I'm doubtful of the single syndrome cause. I guess all the marriage proposals can at least be blamed on the holidays, perhaps.

Viewed from one angle, being single is rather freeing. And such freedom is even, might I say, really romantic in a way. Viewed from another, I still find myself longing for a relationship of some sort. Something easy and comfy...affectionate yet not too serious. At least not (serious) yet. Someday maybe. Damn you, contradictory emotions; always sneaking up and getting the best of me. The next place I live needs to be busy enough for me to not notice such things. At least if, no one notices me (or, deliberately chooses to un-notice me).

Well, I am getting my hair chopped off tomorrow. Needs to happen...it's getting too long. I've always wanted to grow it out really long, as I'm sure it would look super bad-ass with it being so curly, but every time it so much as gets down to my shoulders, it starts pissing me off and I itch to cut it. I'm bringing pictures of Carrie's hair from SATC season five and will say, "make my hair do something like this, please." We'll see how that turns out.



"So, I'll say something I should've said long ago,
You don't know me at all."
-- from the man who wields thirteenth chords like they was triads

CELEBRATE YOUR VEGETABLES!

Today at the office there was a rather heated debate on the social email list about vegetarianism. I kind of felt like throwing my computer across the room by the end of it. The meat-eaters side of the aisle didn't seem to get that vegetables are tasty, and were completely incredulous that veggie-broth based soup could be any good. They also made such silly claims as that eating meat is "natural". (I worked in a deli for almost a year. That shit is rarely natural, yo. So, I hope this person was limiting their comment to fresh steaks sliced right off the animal.) All this started by someone asking if anyone was interesting in doing a vegetarian soup swap at work a couple Mondays from now. One lady said she wasn't going to bother doing it, and would participate another time when chicken broth was allowed. What kind of wonky sense does that make?! Really...you aren't willing to try vegetarian soups made by the exact people that know how to use their veggies? My response was, "where's your sense of adventure?" and "don't think of vegetarian food as missing meat, but more as a proper celebration of vegetables." This shift of food-world-view focus seems to be something meat-eaters have an incredibly difficult time comprehending.

And now, for a turn on the topic.

So this week at work I'm responsible for training a new hire on our project. Turns out, his girlfriend recently quit being a vegetarian. I said, really?, why so? (This conversation occurred yesterday, well before today's veggie vs. meat office smack-down.) He said it was for health reasons, that she was getting sick rather frequently and didn't have enough energy. I said that one thing I'm determined to get better at as we start this new year is my nutrition. I don't get enough protein or iron (and I can really tell the lucky times that I do), and I need to start taking a multi-vitamin, which I have recently started doing. But I want to better educate myself about the various available plant proteins (other than my arch-nemesis, the evil soybean) and do a better job of getting a full spectrum of amino acids, as well as other nutrients, too. (Iron and B vitamins top the list.) So I sat down this eve with the intention of doing some online research. I was day-dreaming of one day having a huge kitchen filled with not just cookbooks, but also science-y nutrition books detailing the pros and cons of various foods and nutrients. (Dork-ery in the kitchen...what revelry that would be!)

I hopped on Google and was met with this. The quizzical stuff in the picture needs no intro.



There definitely not 5 times as many vegans as vegetarians. What this says to me, is two things:

1. Being a vegan is far more nutritionally tricky than being a vegetarian.

2. Vegetarians as a whole don't really take their nutrition very seriously, or as seriously as they should.


Is being a vegetarian a wise decision? I'd say a passionate "yes". But we'd do better to be wiser in it's practice.

(And it's also a damn tasty decision, too, just in case you were wondering.)

holla

All I have to say is, "duh":

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123119236117055127.html

What I find really interesting is the fact that "Mathematician" gets #1, while "Physicist" gets #13...maybe I'd rather end up in a math department after all...

on being the only female in a room full of males, pt. 2

I'm coming up for a quick breath of air while working on my next-to-last grad school application, and decided to write for a spell. (After all, I did say I'd have more to say on the previous post later...) Honestly this whole application process is a little overwhelming for me. Required financial and time investments aside, the part that is particularly unsettling is the gravity of it. I am basically saying to schools, "please let me come work for your Nobel laureate professors and with your super-fast computers...let me come study at your institution and then attempt to begin making my own mark on the field." I didn't really apply to any safety schools; not because I'm cocky, more because there just aren't really "safety schools" for theoretical physics. (I tried to find some that are doing research in what I'm interested in, I really did.) So my apps are a mix of reaches and middle-of-the-road picks. This has the resultant effect of making me fear I'm acting too big for my britches.

Recently, a new conversation partner has highlighted exactly the complex I seem to have with not feeling like I deserve anything, or put another way, with being afraid to ask the universe for things. Now, this is interesting since I've written in detail on this topic before, in my old, now-long-neglected other blog. (I plan on moving some old entries to this blog and just deleting the old one when I can find the time...) Basically, my point in that writing was that asking for things is a sign of respect towards one's self. People don't bother to give mathematics an honest try in school because "that's stuff for smart people, not me." I never thought I'd learn to use chopsticks, because that was something cosmopolitan/worldly people did, not some kid from the sticks like me. (I'm happy to report I was very wrong about the chopsticks.)

I recently read a quote somewhere that said something to the effect of, "treat people as they have the potential to be, not who they are." I think that's probably a pretty applicable statement for one's treatment towards one's self, as well. Whether or not he had ever heard of this quote, my math advisor at UVM was definitely living it. When he told me I should first try submitting the paper that came out of my independent study to Physical Review, I thought he was crazy. (The way I explain it to those unfamiliar with it is that Phys. Rev. is like the Yankees of physics journals.) "My paper's got a snowball's chance in hell of being accepted there," I thought. Evidently this paper was one tough snowball. See, that's the thing. I sprung for something (admittedly, after significant external encouragement) that I didn't think I or my work would be considered good enough for. And look what happened. So I guess, regarding the applications, I just decided to take a deep breath and go for it. I think I would have regretted doing it any differently.

As for the electronic smack-down the other day...I don't have much more specifically to say about it (but I do feel like this post was an exploration of somethings very similar). My mind brooded over it for the afternoon and then let it go, after remembering what may be my absolute favorite Eleanor Roosevelt quote (and she's got a lot of good ones!) In fact, I think this quote is rather applicable to the rest of my here-written concerns as well...


"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."
--Eleanor Roosevelt

on being the only female in a room full of males, pt. 1

...and the only bachelor's degree in a room full of phds.

In a nutshell: it sucks. Anything you say is often screwed right out of the gate, at least for some pairs of ears. Luckily there is usually a good helping of enlightened pairs of ears as well, so sometimes a very decent idea presented by someone in my position can take off in a group discussion, by way of the help of said quasi-enlightened beings.

But when you are duking it out on a group-wide visible email thread with one such not-enlightened pair of ears (eyes?), you end up feeling pretty alone and self-esteem-bruised. At least until, some voices of reason write you personally and laud your grit.

Grumble. Time to go for a walk for lunch soon, I do declare.

More later.