Friday Photo Library: Pesach and Spring

Exodus 3:11 'Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh?' said Moses to God. 'And how can I bring the Israelites out of Egypt?'
3:12 'Because I will be with you,' replied [God]. 'Proof that I have sent you will come when you take the people out of Egypt. All of you will then become God's servants on this mountain.

3:7 God said, 'I have surely seen the suffering of My people in Egypt. I have heard how they cry out because of their taskmasters, and I hear their pain.

3:8 I have come down to rescue [you] from Egypt's power. I will bring [you] out of that land, to a good, spacious land, to a land flowing with milk and honey.

We say at our seder that each person has their own personal Egypt: our guilt, fear, hatred, pain. It is hard to leave these behind- sometimes impossible. Sometimes we wander in the desert for years.

12:40 The life that the Israelites endured in Egypt had thus lasted 430 years.
12:41 At the end of the 430 years, all of God's armies left Egypt in broad daylight.
12:42 There was a night of vigil for God, [preparing] to bring them out of Egypt. This night remains for the Israelites a vigil to God for all generations.

13:21 And God went before them by day with a pillar of cloud, to guide them along the way.

Why I Changed My Name (And Why I Still Regret It)

Because Mr. Scientist really, really wanted us to have the same last name. I blame the patriarchy.

He offered to change his name; I was convinced his very conservative parents would hate me.* Next!

Hyphenation seems ideal, in the abstract. But! My family name was, say, the equivalent of 'Gloomy': The Gloomy-Scientists. Dr. Gloomy-Scientist. The Drs. Gloomy-Scientist. Right.

Although he's a liberal Presbyterian, and I'm a liberal Jew, he did change his life radically for my religious preferences (keeping kosher, helping build a little hut so I could dance around with a mutant lemon and dine al fresco- very fresco- in the rainy fall weather,** etc.). I thought I had to make a sacrifice of equal value.

I don’t mind being Jenny Scientist, but I mind that a part of my identity is subsumed in my husband. And I loathe getting letters to Mrs. John Q. Scientist. I am Ms. Scientist, and I will be Dr. Scientist. Never, never Mrs. Scientist.

I love my husband, and I made the choice freely (except for the social conditioning and the patriarchy, y'know). But changing my name made me queasy, afterwards, as if I'd bartered with my independence. It was my choice, but it echoes, to me, of women-as-property. I feel like a bad feminist. I wish we'd found another way.

The other day, Mr. S said to me, 'The only thing that bothers me about it is that people think I'm oppressing you. I'm not! We have an egalitarian partnership! But the social meaning is tied to oppression.'

Yes, dear. I know.


* Though apparently, they already did. If only I had known. Mr. S still won't tell me what they said. Which is probably for the best, now that Army Green's Chinese 'girlfriend' has inspired better attitudes.
** The first year we were married he had to take the whole thing down alone- and it is enormous- because I was laying on the couch whimpering in agony from a nice case of dry socket. Poor dear.

Ask a Scientist: Listeria and Pregnancy

I know these are overwhelmingly about pregnancy. This is because my pregnant friends and acquaintances (now great, mighty and numerous) and my girlfriends who may one day be pregnant, keep asking things. And I believe that risks in pregnancy are, as Mark Twain said, greatly exaggerated.

Listeria! Not something you hear about a lot, because the CDC's most recently reported incidence- in 2005- was 0.3 per 100,000 (3 in a million).

A friend's midwife ('Not the kind with little bells and a faint smell of patchouli. These midwives are all mean and brisk and no-nonsense') told her that a pregnant woman's risk of listeriosis was 20 times the basal risk. Really?

Listeria is, in fact, super extra nasty if you're pregnant because it crosses the placental barrier and infects the fetus. This frequently results in miscarriage or fetal death.

[As a side note, most listeria infections in pregnancy occur in the 3rd trimester, when suppression of Th1-mediated immunity is at its maximum.]

The 20-fold figure is based on a single CDC study in 1986. They tracked all reported cases of listeria for one year in six health departments across the country, and came up with a rate of about 5 per million population overall. 27% were in pregnant women (pw); the authors record 67 perinatal cases, which at the time was 12.7/100,000 live births. The CDC reports an annual birth rate of 13.9 per 1000 population, so 1.1% of population is pregnant women (let's estimate, based on being pregnant 40/52 weeks). So if you're not pregnant, your incidence of listeria is 5 per million, and if you are, it's 127 per million pw. This a 25-fold increase in risk.

Data from France, where the overall incidence is about 3.5 per million, reported 24% of all cases occurred in pw. The birth rate is 11.99 per 1000- 0.92% of the population consists of pw; this works out to 2.6 cases per million nonpregnant population and 86 cases per million pw, or a 33-fold enhancement in risk.

A more recent seven-year CDC FoodNet survey ("Pregnancy-associated listeriosis in Hispanic women in FoodNet Sites", also here) found a rate of 3 per million population, and 16% were in pregnancy (2.5 per million non-pw, 43 per million pw)4. Of all cases, 7% of patients were Hispanic, but 28% of pregnancy-associated cases were in Hispanic women (eating queso fresco seems to be the cause of this increase). So that makes an 17-fold risk enhancement.

To further muddy the waters, of 75 cases reported in Finland over 9 years, only 4 (5%) were in pregnant women. On the other hand, in several reported many-case outbreaks, up to 85% of infections were in pregnant women. Except when they weren't: one in Boston had
14% infection in pregnant women. And then another review says maybe overall it's more like 35%? They think? And another study of isolated infections found 11% in pregnant women.

In case you need to feel alarmed about eating anything, Listeria infections or contamination have been found not only with cold-smoked fish (lox, etc.), feta, brie, other soft cheeses, and hot dogs, there have also been cases and outbreaks from coleslaw, pasteurized-but-somehow-contaminated chocolate milk, undercooked chicken, deli meat, hummus, melons, lettuce, packaged sandwiches, pasta salad, egg salad, mushrooms, dips, and pretty much anything else you could imagine.

So overall, the moral is, the most risk is from preserved fish, cheese from unpasteurized milk, and deli meats. Possibly also avoid vegetables, milk, hummus, Finland, and eating out if you're feeling particularly paranoid. The risk of listeriosis is increased substantially in pregnancy, and what do you know, it might really be 20-fold.

But don't be too alarmed. Remember even with the highest numbers, the total incidence of Listeria in pregnancy is only 0.01%.

Other Random Announcements

I'm still alive! But I feel very OOOOK, and the throat, it is not pleased. Thank you all for your kind words.

To Anonymous who is choosing a lab: my batch of lab-choosing advice won't start going up until next week, but if you email me, I'm happy to offer a preview.

Also, due to general overwhelm-ment and the fact that I must de-crumbify my entire house by April 2nd- oh, and the fact that as of April 1, I am one of two editors-in-chief of the journal about which I snark regularly- I'm going to MWF publishing. With possibilities of occasional photos on T/Th. Sorry, but duty calls.

Love, kisses, and one last week of bready goodness,

Jenny

Assertiveness Training (2)

Public Speaking, Or: How to be an assertive bitch and make people listen.

Stand up for yourself verbally. If you're talking, you're the only one talking. When you’re giving a presentation, draw attention to yourself. Nail people who’re being rude: side conversations are not acceptable. People talking over you is not acceptable. If people interrupt, interrupt them back. Some sample responses: That's an interesting discussion. Perhaps you'd like to continue it after my talk. Next question.; Excuse me. Would you like to hear what I'm saying?; Pardon me, could I finish?

Stand up for yourself professionally. Cultivate useful replies to put-downs and dismissals. If you’re talking about something, make sure you have a theory about what’s happening: a wrong theory is better than not having a clue. If you work in a belligerent group, think about what questions you’ll get and prepare answers in advance. Learn to respond quickly and assertively to destructive criticism: I disagree because; On the contrary, this is an important finding because...; That's true, but also, X is true; That's an interesting point, but not relevant; I tried that and it is technically impossible... and so on.

Stand up for yourself personally. Own and acknowledge your accomplishments. The correct response to That was a good idea or You did a good job is Yes. Thank you. I've been working hard. Not: Oh, well, I don't know, I guess so. You worked hard. Someone is complimenting you. You deserve it. Now say thank you.

Speak with confidence. If you're going to be wrong, do it in a loud, clear voice. Imagine you say it in a whispery quaver. For one, nobody will hear you; for two, they won't listen. Acknowledge when you're wrong, but either believe you know what you're talking about, or pretend. In most settings, you'll get more respect for being wrong in a loud voice than for being right in a quiet voice.

Be as mean to people as they deserve (but as some function of what you can get away with). If the next postdoc over keeps interrupting you, tell her to please be quiet/ shut up. (Or if you're feeling nice, 'Excuse me, I'm talking.') If some professor you're never going to see again says your results are crap, say that you have complete confidence in them and he's never even done the experiment and too fireplacing bad. Don't let a fear of offending others make you lay down and take it. Talk back.

Once you've made your point, it's not up for discussion. If you have made a factual statement and you know it's right and there is no point in talking about it- and I don't mean scientific discussions of hypotheses, I mean useless conversations- don't discuss it. Walk away from pointless arguments and annoying or overbearing people who are wasting your time. You said it. They heard it. That's it.

Practice, practice, practice. If these things don't come naturally to you- and they don't to many people, including me- practice. Talk to your mirror. Mutter to yourself as you walk down the street. Think of ways people are going to criticize your research. (This is generally useful anyhow because it tells you which experiments you should be doing.) Have a friend pretend to be a mean co-worker. Say these things out loud to yourself, and you'll get better at saying them to others.

Find a mentor. If you can, find someone who’s been through the battlefield before and who can offer the occasional word of advice on how to get by. It always helps to have a sympathetic and experienced ear. They've been there; you can benefit from their bad experiences.

Overall: Stand up for yourself. Focus on your own work. Present yourself how you want to be seen: intelligent, competent, and assertive. Value your own achievements, and do your best to make sure others do.

Other advice? Add to the comments!

Part 1 here.
Intro here.

(scientiae-carnival)

In Which I Learn An Unpleasant Lesson

I had this whole long whine about how my experiments are eating my life and they don't work anyways and I'm giving a seminar Friday and my committee meeting is coming up and oh, gracious me, it's almost Pesach and I don't have TIME for it to be Pesach!!! Aaaaaah!

Then yesterday happened.

Let me tell you: if a couple hours after your allergy shots your throat swells up and you feel amazingly dizzy and your pulse shoots up to 130? That is not a good time to take one Benadryl and sit counting your pulse. It is, nonetheless, an excellent time to use that Epi-pen, take two Benadryls, and call 911.

If you decline to do this on the grounds that epinephrine will feel unpleasant and interrupt your experiments, you should not then call the emergency department and argue with them. Because it is anaphylactic shock.

Nonetheless, when you and your Very Bad Ideas finally walk down there- alone- it will take under two minutes to be propped on an exam table with an oxygen tube, a pulse oximeter, a shot of Benadryl, four worried nurses, and a slightly panicked doctor.

And if, after a couple hours where they check your heart rate and continued breathing every five minutes, you should call your husband to pick you up. Although the Handi-Van is available, he will not mind the inconvenience.

I think that was my last allergy shot. Ever.

Science à la française

Random links, courtesy of the Centre Nationale de Recherches Scientifiques, which has the most random library ever, followed by random musings:

Can you microwave a cake? Or bake it with a halogen bulb?

Can you dry peaches in the microwave, and do they still taste good?

I must say, my time in France gave me a dim opinion of French biology departments.* Of course, there is some very good French science, and the best schools- Paris VI, Strasbourg I, the ENS- may teach more analysis. But at most of the universities, not so much. Teaching labs are mix-bake-measure. The emphasis is on memorization, obedience, and Wisdom From On High. This leads to a lot of cookbook science, and detailed investigations of what we call brick-in-the-wall stuff. That is: boring, trivial publications.

I know because I have read many, many boring papers from French labs. And I have taken these boring classes. In biochemistry at the Fac de Sciences de B___, we had to memorize 116 molecular structures and 74 pathways for the final. Useless? Boring? Forgotten? Yes! Master's level? You bet!

In inorganic chemistry at my little college, we had exams that took six hours** and required us to derive formulas we didn’t even know. We had to analyze, not regurgitate. In quantum chem,*** exams were open-book because ‘It won’t help you any.’ I won’t say this always teaches people to think, but it has a better chance.


*No, these aren't from French labs. But they are funny.
**Once, ten! Not a positive feature, now that I think of it.
***Which I have since entirely forgotten. Thank Cthulu.

Assertiveness Training (1)

Or: Not That You Asked (But Bad Experiences Are So Educational)

Personal Assertiveness: Common Traps to Avoid

Assert your professional competence. Total ignorance comes off as weakness. Say ‘I don't know’ and you will be steamrollered. Scientists are aggressive, type-A people, overall. Have ideas, and present them. Always have a response other than ‘I have no idea.’ Say: That's interesting, I'll have to think about it; I can't recall the exact number, but I know it's less than ten; I'll have to look that up; That's a good question; I think X is happening, can you explain your theory.

Don't let people put you down. If your advisor says something negative- 'You were really struggling your first year' say 'I've been working very hard and I'm pleased with the results I'm getting.' If someone doubts your data, explain concisely and without apology why the result is X. Don't put up with it. You're better than that. Tell them so.

Don't put yourself down. Women (and, yes, some men) put themselves down too much. Don't start sentences with 'I'm sorry'. Don't apologize for things that aren't your problem and don't say you're sorry unless you did something to be sorry for. (Setting the fume hood on fire, throwing out someone's tube by mistake, or breaking expensive equipment: that, you're sorry for.) Stand up for yourself and speak like YOU believe you're competent. Even if you don't. You're smart, hardworking, and analytical. Don't lower yourself in others' eyes. They don't need the help.

Never volunteer for anything, unless a) it’s your job, b) you get something out of it (recognition, brownie points, money), or c) it has inconvenienced you personally. You are not the lab manager, the lab mom, or a tech. Your time is for your research. If it’s not your job, it’s not your problem. You’re wasting your time.

If you do something extra, make sure you get credit for it. Ask your boss a needless question about the equipment you’re having fixed; email the lab or announce in lab meeting that the incubator is fixed.

Avoid and be aware of stereotypes. The secretary files things. The janitors clean. The lab mom bakes cookies. The lab manager nags people to put stuff away. Don't act like them unless you want to be them. Be aware that if you bake cookies all the time, or listen to Whiny Coworker's woes for more than fifteen seconds, it will have an effect on your professional persona. Work against falling into the nurturing-female stereotype; you risk assuming a role where people will dismiss you professionally. Again, it wastes your time and effort.

Think about what you wear and how you come off. Look around. How do your co-workers dress? In science, usually jeans/khakis, button-down shirts/polos/t-shirts. End of story. Dress to fit in, or be aware that if you don't, you will have to work harder to be taken seriously. Be aware that wearing overly fancy clothes to lab is seen as 'not serious about working.'

Anyone else? Helpful hints for the young and idealistic?

Intro here.
Next week, Part 2: Assertive Public Speaking!

(scientiae-carnival)

Another Story and Where I Have Been

Second Scientiae Carnival! Go forth and read!

***
Recently, two gentlemen unknown to me and looking to be late in the third decades of their lives appeared at the weekly gathering of my laboratory. I inquired if they were students of natural philosophy, or perhaps postdoctoral associates?

One of them was a professor.

Oops.

Well, I suppose it's only fair.

***

All week, I have been doing this















and I feel pretty much like this.


Nonetheless, I must return and do much, much more of this.

Cheers all around.

Stand By

I am sick. Just in time to miss the one thesis defense I actually wanted to see.

My timing is impeccable.

Assertiveness Training (A Story About Me)

Or: Years of Anger Are Converted to Advice
***
Now announcing a new feature: Friday Advice! My epic-proportioned frustration with students who let themselves be trodden upon- and with the years I wasted underfoot- requires an outlet.

***
There are lots of things I wish I'd known before I came to grad school. One of them is how to choose a good lab. (Upcoming in Friday Advice!) Another is how to be a respected participant rather than a doormat.

In the last several years, I've seen a lot of young women, and rather fewer young men, suffer from not being very assertive. They get talked over, ignored, harassed, pressured, interrupted. It's as much fun as you'd imagine.

My lab, as I have mentioned, is a tank of pirhanas. I tried to be nice and polite. I never interrupted. I never hit back when people said mean, disparaging things about my research. At lab meetings, I cowered in the corner, occasionally offering a meek comment, lest they bite me.

I got saddled with chores that weren't my job. I was lectured on what experiments to do, when all I'd asked was where's the Saran Wrap. I got tired and angry and sad.

And then one day... I snapped. I was sick of being ignored and interrupted. I was ready to deck the next person who dismissed my professional, scientific judgment as 'just being negative'. Someone was rude to me, and I interrupted him back and said "This is what my data say. This is the answer. I don't care if you don't like it. End of story."

Once I decided that I wasn't going to put up with it any more, my frustration quotient went way down, and my colleagues stopped treating me like a punching bag. It's still an enormous effort to be on guard all the time, ready to hit back, but it's better than being put down all the time.

How did I learn these things? I don't quite know. A big part of it was I went and cried all over an acquaintance four years ahead of me, and asked her what to do, because she didn't take any nonsense. She gave me thoughtful advice, and I took notes. I watched other people. I practiced good responses in my head. I learned to take a deep breath before answering, so I wouldn't get flustered by attacks. I made up a set of stock responses and drilled out loud until I could say "That's an interesting idea, but I've already shown it's incorrect" without even thinking. I learned to trust my own judgment.

I still see people get run over. It especially frustrates me when young women do it. I want to shake them and cry "Don't put up with it! Grow a spine!" But I remember I was once like that, and they must learn. They must want to be assertive more than they want to be nice.

Nonetheless, when I get my dream job at the Women in Science and Engineering Leadership Institute, I will teach a yearly course on assertiveness for young women, in hopes of forestalling some of the agony. (A coworker of Mr. S is coming over soon for drinks and a preview course!) And what will I say? Tune in next week!

(scientiae-carnival)

A Booming Metropolis of the 1950s

Welcome to Donnelsville, Ohio; population 293.

Used car dealership. Next to the one stoplight.

Old Style

(Also the home of that goose.)

Sports Analogies and Strong Women

And now for more of our regularly scheduled women-in-science programming. Themes: You Can Do It, We're Getting Better, and Keep Trying.

****
A woman recently came to speak here. She's worked as dean or president at six or so colleges; she's retired now.

She talked about being in college in the 50's. "The dean of Pretentious University called me into his office at the beginning of my senior year and told me I couldn't be a math major because I was a woman. [Had he not noticed until then?] I'd taken a lot of classes and done very well, but too bad! So I switched."

"After I graduated and got married, I was looking for jobs in science. This was during the post-war industrial boom. But every time they said, 'We don't hire women for technical positions. But can you type?' So I got a job as a technical writer. That's like science, but it has words; and you know women are good with words. Hah."

"And I got pregnant and they fired me. Never let anyone tell you laws can't change discrimination: that's illegal now."

"I'd put my husband through medical school; our kids were in high school. So I was working as an editor, and I started working on a PhD, just for fun, you know. I'd bought a doctor, I figured I'd never have to work again. And then! one day my husband ran off with his teenage receptionist."
....
"I was the first female president in an entirely male hierarchy. And I have to tell you, I was good at my work, I was very good, but I don't think I would have gotten any of those jobs without affirmative action. Without external pressure for change, as well as pressure from their constituencies, the female students, they wouldn't have hired a woman.

They were trying to be all friendly and welcoming, so they organized a retreat. They'd never done a retreat before. And at the end of it someone asked me, 'So, how's it been, Sue? What do you think?' And I said, 'It's been lovely, very interesting. The only thing is, I wish everyone could use some metaphors other than sports. Up to bat. Home stretch. Team player. All the time. Maybe art, or literature, or politics, or, ah, anything else?'

And this person, to whom I had spoken in private, told everyone else. To be malicious. So for years, it was 'Well, let's level the playing field. Oh! So sorry! I forgot, you don't like sports.' Fifteen times a day. It was harassment. I could have sued them, but I bit my tongue. I knew what it was, and it was on purpose, a distancing thing: You're not one of us."

[I asked: Do you have advice for us young women on how to deal without discrimination without being furious all the time?]

"Furious! Well, it's better than depression, which is what most people experience when they realize there's discrimination. But really, choose your battles. And make allies. Avoid venting to the people who are driving you nuts. And have good friends so you can vent."
****

I can never decide if hearing these things is heartening or not. It was worse: much worse. And women still earn 75 cents for every dollar our spouses, sons, partners, friends, and fathers make. (For a bunch of complicated reasons, only some of which are to do with discrimination, but many of which are to do with structural inequalities.)

In an effort to be more positive, and in response to someone's question, I was trying to think of things I like about being a woman in science. I like meeting other smart men and women. And I like science. But I don't think I like a single other thing about it.

What's good about being a woman in science? Or, if you're not in science, about being a woman in your profession?

(Comments are open; welcome, any carnival readers! Drop in and say hi!)

(scientiae-carnival)

Oh, the Horror!

I dreamed I'd ordered a $400 pipettor and when it got here I realized I already had one.

And I'm sure I'm not the only scientist who dreams I'm in lab and the doors are locked and I can't get out until my experiment works and then I wake up and I'm in grad school and I can't get out until my experiment works and then I dream I'm in lab....

Relationships (In Two Parts), Being the First

For the past, oh, three weeks at least, I've been feeling run over by a lorry, rather à la Pierre Curie. Laying in the roadway staring at the twigs. Thinking vaguely that perhaps I should get up. Not caring.
***

I was sitting at the table analyzing data. "When you get a result," I asked Mr. S, "do you always think, Oh, that can't be right, what did I do wrong?"

"No," he said, "I think, Oh, that's the answer then."

***

Here's an object lesson in zero support, how poisonous work atmospheres get you. Nobody believes your results, so you don't either. It's protective: if you doubt yourself more than them, they can't hurt you. Here's what supportive co-workers do: they find ways to test your data, they don't cut you down. It's the difference between trying to falsify hypotheses in all good faith and humility, and... not.

As Propter Doc so lucidly points out, intellectual and moral support don't correlate with gender. I suppose they correlate with personality- whether one wishes to be a constructive critic, or cut people off at the knees. It's not because my lab is sexist (though they are), that they're by and large difficult to work with. It's because my advisor fosters a hostile and poisonous atmosphere. Or at least, he fails to prevent it. The effects are the same.

Excuse me while I go lay down in the road again. I hear another bus coming.

***
When I was a fresh-faced eager 21, I moved 600 miles with my college boyfriend to come to grad school together. I'd worked in labs, done my own research, it was interesting; I thought I had a future with him, we should make plans together, I liked science, why not go to grad school too?

A week after we got here, we were no longer speaking. A month later, it was painfully and messily over. Two cold, misery-filled, bitter months later, I finally managed to move out.

I spent the next year laughing brightly in public and, at home, laying in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to move. Ever since a very bad year a very long time ago, I associate being very cold with being sunk into depression. Depression is a nice easy word for hating myself every day for month after month after month and not having the strength to stop. It was a cold, cold year.

I spent the next year, I thought, healing. I made friends, dated the town's most eligible Jewish bachelor (who turned out to be a loathsome toad, more's the pity), went out, played sports, flirted. I thought I was done with my regrets.

I still see this ex every day because he and I work in the same lab. (We won't even talk about why, but suffice it to say that it was one of many bad decisions that year.) The first few years were full of me being polite and professional- I assure you that I was unfailingly polite- and him being vindictive and destructive. It still reminds me every day how stupid I was. And it adds to the atmosphere in so many ways.

Friday Photo Library: The Magpie Spirit

To continue the week of no scientific substance, I present to you: sets of things I have photographed. Also, my newest useless project: walking around town trying to take pictures of every state's license plate. I know I saw an Alaska somewhere! I fear, however, that Hawaii is a lost cause.





***
I saw some more buildings. Revival styles fascinate me.

And the physical plant at sundown. It was surprisingly attractive, for a physical plant.



I took pictures of all my plants. Except I forgot the ficus that I nearly killed by taking it outdoors one February and then all the leaves fell off and it was a bunch of sticks in a pot and they scoffed at me! But it grew back!

The lavender contines to grow, but it looks unhappy. The citrus trees need a larger pot. But first it needs to be spring, to avoid repeats of the Ficus Incident.


The pothos is unkillable; I gave it a haircut and cut off 3/4 of its leaves recently. You can't tell.




I wandered about town taking pictures of people's license plates. I got a lot of funny looks. In the South, someone would have threatened me with a gun ('Hey, what y'all lookin' at? You ain't gonna touch my truck, is you now?).



Then it was time to go buy a bottle of wine and help with this week's World Corruption Index dinner. It's Nigeria. Next week: Haiti!

I will return Monday with thoughtful scientific content. May your weekends be filled with relaxing, and maybe with less rain than we're having.

Scientiae Has Arrived. Go Forth and Read.

The first-ever Scientiae carnival is up at Skookumchick's place. Three cheers!

Also:

"The next Scientiae carnival...... will be held March 15 at Propter Doc's place, post doc ergo propter doc . See the call for posts here; posts are due to her by March 12, and can be submitted by following these instructions (which have changed slightly from this carnival). I hope to have something fresh out of the oven to contribute. See you then and there!"

Six Weird Things About Me

Not So Little Sister says I'm it. Voilà!

1. I can't bear to have anything around my wrists due to too many years of labwork.

2. I am a two time all-state spelling champion (all evidence to the contrary). I used to find this utterly mortifying.

3. Not only do I have the same birthday as Prudence, but my father and his brother have the same birthday.

4. My mother-in-law's name is Jennifer.* This has caused some confusion.

5. Despite how I and my Presbyterian spouse think most of the Torah is a nice story with some allegorical moral lessons, we keep kosher and don't use electricity (or cook or write or slaughter animals or all the other melachot) on Shabbat.

6. Despite the fact that I have an excellent short-term and long-term memory at work, at home I regularly forget where I left things, whether I turned off the iron, and whether something is about to catch fire in the kitchen.

Anyone else? Shira? Jokerine? Nicole? Rachel and/or Henry? (I'm too shy to tag people. Really. Okay, Shira and Mike, you can stop laughing now.)

*Not really. I never use anyone's real names. But it's that close to mine.