12/20/02

J and I are leaving Monday for his parent's house. Posting will be light to non-exsistent until January 7th or so, when we get back, because his parents have an internet connection, but it's pretty dang slow, like a 12k modem or so. I will be checking email from time to time, though, so if anything is going on, or if you want to know the phone number, or anything else, let me know.

Happy holidays! If you're bored, go do something with real live people, and not the binary kind. It's a good time of year for that.

12/19/02

I could've sworn that I'd written something the day after my birthday. Oh, well, apparently not, or else angelfire ate it. It's done that before.

So, I had a decent birthday, nothing too strenuous, because of my exam the next day. J and I went to this amazing Thai place on Sunday. I bought myself some new glasses--really good quality everything--high-falutin frames that will hopefully last me through a few lenses, good lenses, and no coatings on them. Working in labs, having anything uncharacterizable on your lenses sucks, and sucks hard. The pair I had before the last ones, the anti-reflective coating flaked off in fractal-like chunks, but whatever was left behind wouldn't ever come off, so my world was filtered through the Mandelbrot Set. My last pair got into a scuffle with some acetone and lost--the result was that I seemed to be stuck in a romance movie with heavy filters for awhile. Now that I have total control over my own medical stuff, I said no to the ^#*^% coatings, and got lenses in the least-likely-to-get-eaten plastic.

Now, things are super-clear and happy. My new frames are squareish, which made me feel like I was watching TV for the first day, but I'm almost used to them now. My advisor even noticed! When we talk in his office, his back is usually facing a huge picture window, and the good lighting makes all of the blobs in my old glasses really obvious. I went in to talk to him this morning, and in the middle of talking about our patterned silicon wafers, and etching parameters, he gave a little jump, and said "Oh! It's your glasses! I knew something was different, I can actually see your eyes again!"
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Some apologies in advance if this thing looks more butt-ugly than usual; I know that everyone seems to have trouble accessing this thing on Netscape (I don't know about Mozilla or any of those other browsers), so I'm going to play around and see if I can make things work correctly. Apparently, some friend of J's parents tried to get the site, but got some lovely porn offers instead. We'll have none of that here. I'll keep y'all updated.

12/16/02

Happy birthday to me. I'm mostly studying for an exam tomorrow, I'll let you all know how my day went tomorrow or Wednesday.

I did get a present for myself, though.

12/13/02

Yum. Friday the 13th. It's pretty spooky outside, too: couldn't see the Capitol out our front window this morning, which is only a few blocks away. The lake was almost gone too, and that's right across the street. Amazingly, it seems to be getting worse: I'm just waiting until we're all completely cocooned in visual separation. It's not far from that already.

I made a really tasty bean stew thing last night. I was originally calling it chili, because for part of it I used a little bean-and-spice package labeled as such (part of Erin's Hannukah presents--thanks!), but it was far enough from traditional definitions that calling it chili seems to be something of a misnomer.

First of all, about half of it was black beans, which made the glop around the beans brown. And it was just beans, rice, and a cut up fake barbecue rib thing that J likes. So not particularly meaty. It turned out tastily, though, much better than my previous experiment with the crock pot. The lesson learned from last time: Add any starches at the end, lest you end up with gloppy, unattractive mess. Lesson learned this time: Rice in a crock pot takes longer to cook than you think it will, so don't think it will be done when you're running to take a test 20 minutes later.

At least the lesson learned this time was more easily amended. As I said: tasty, tasty, tasty. Definitely better than my 5-cans-and-a-package-of-dry-soy-product chili. And, best of all, now there are about a week's worth of hearty bean lunches in our refrigerator! Watch out, world, here we come.

12/12/02

Jeremy found my sewing machine pedal, the one that I mentioned was missing. Fortunately I hadn't gone out and bought one yet. It was in a pretty obvious place--so obvious, in fact, that I hadn't looked there (of course!) So gift-giving is back on track, and I should have some time this weekend to start with... things, once I learn my sewing machine's wily ways.

Have my last exam in cell biology tonight (non-cumulative, thank goodness), so think of me from 7-9pm. Then, time for some silliness.
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An update on that long-winded thing yesterday: yesterday afternoon I found out that a friendly acquaintance of mine is getting married, and we had an hour's worth of fun talking about good ways to do cheap things and how everything turns out okay in the end. It just made me want to reiterate: I LIKE having Jeremy around, and our promise to stay with each other through everything. We're great. "Wifeliness" as a title is the only thing that I have a bone of contention with, mostly because I'm a pretty bad wife by the traditional definition.

12/11/02

Going to be pretty busy the next few days: I have an exam tomorrow, and one next Tuesday, and I have a few problem sets to finish up by the end of the week. One of my classes, the prof hand out problem sets but never specifically asks for them, so it's really easy for them to pile up until, oh, say, you have 3 of them to do in the last 3 days of classes. I'm getting together with someone this afternoon, hopefully we'll be able to finish them off. Which means, apparently, that I have to think even harder about non-science things so my brain doesn't get all lopsided and I have to walk down the street with my head on some wheeled contraption.

I've been involved in this really interesting online conversation, all revolving around how "seriously" couples in committed relationships are taken, depending on the age and sexual orientation of the couples (also the age and orientation of the people they're talking to). I also feel like the whole definition of something like "marriage" or "committed" varies a lot, depending on the person, the context, etc. I mean, the "married" aspect of my identity is still something I'm trying to figure out. What does it mean for a feminist, working class, gender-screwball to have the label of "wife"?

I remember Dan and I talking about this kind of thing when we were taking a class called Sexual Oppression (it wasn't nearly as oy-inducing as the title suggests). There was a particular lecture that I really had a hard time understanding, and it had to do with the concept of someone looking at you, mentally putting a label onto your head, and interacting with you in a way that only reflected that label. My response to this was "Well, why does it matter if someone else is putting that label on me, if that's not my own personal label?" Dan insisted that this was the way it worked, at least the way it would work on the test. But I never really bought it. My self-definition has been at odds with one of the most basic labels of all--gender-- for most of my formative years, and still is. So what? People get to know me, they know I'm not a girlish-girl, they stop treating me like one. It seemed pretty simple, and since my most closely-aligning identity is female, they're usually not far off base (and the grocery clerks that call me "sir" aren't all that far off either).

But this "wife" thing. I understand this label thing a little better now. My own way of defining my being married is really personal. It's different from (and sometimes at odds with) the traditional definition of things, and it has to do with how J and I have developed separately as human beings, and also with how we develop now, in a separate-but-unified way. But getting to know me as a gender-uncomfortable person is way different from knowing what my self-definition of my relationship is. I guess for that you have to actually be IN a relationship with me for the second one, and one is quite enough for me.

Oy. This went in a TOTALLY different direction than I thought it was going to. Still relavant, though. Because the US government has decided the parameters within which marriage may occur, the label attached to me is more than just a cultural byproduct, but a legally-sanctioned one. What would happen if I got knocked in the head tomorrow, wholly identified as transgendered, and went through a sex change? What would the government do with our marriage licence? I like to think that their heads would simply explode.

I feel like I have more outside gender boxing with a ring on my finger. Isn't that funny? Two incredibly personal things--a love relationship and self-definition--that are at odds with each other in particular contexts. It doesn't mean I'm ever going to get divorced or turn toward the Pink Side, I guess it just means that I have to work harder at bucking the system.

This all reminds me that I really have to develop the sociology-themed section of this site, so you don't have to hear an engineer talking about gender unless you really want to. Maybe sometime soon. We'll see.

12/09/02

A quiet weekend. Finally got around to seeing Moulin Rouge, which I found pretty and epilepsy-inducing but unmoving. I just waited to find out which of the Three Obvious Way The Obvious Person Would Die. Although I have been saying "I'm the Green Fairy!" a lot (refer to previous "I'm a flamer in a woman's body" posts).

Also saw Monsoon Wedding again, which I highly recommend. I think that it's just as pretty as Moulin Rouge, but in a less spastic way. It has the added bonus of making me blubber like a baby, which no other movie I've encountered can make me do. And, its music is much more addictive--I've been humming the opening tune all day. J got me the soundtrack for Hannukah, so I plan on humming all of the songs, eventually. I'd sing them too, if I knew Hindu.

Unsuccessfully looked for a replacement power cord/pedal for my sewing machine, that I apparently lost at some point during the move. I'm pretty annoyed about that, just because I have absolutely no idea what happened to it. This means one of two things. A: I will purchase the thing, only to have it turn up the next day, someplace I managed to NOT look when I pulled the house inside out; or B: It got thrown away in a box of boxes that I didn't realize had something important in it.

I'm not sure which scenario is worse.

Anyhow, I just feel that I should mention that if I don't track one down soon, SEVERAL PEOPLE, who must remain nameless, but that MAY BE READING, might get an iou for something handmade in their stocking this year.

Just to put the little germ of a possibility into everyone's head, so that no one will be overly dissapointed.

12/05/02

I lost my voice completely by the time I got home yesterday. So I whistled and made the water-drip-sound, and ran around like a goofball. And said funny things to J in sign language. All to make up for my usual verbal diarrhea. It's finally starting to come back, but it's pretty harsh right now.

So, this morning, I was speechlessly going through my morning routine when I stubbed my toe really hard. Being unable to say curse words above a hoarse whisper, but needing some form of outlet, I made that sound that Donald Duck makes when he's mad. Then I blew some raspberries. J was laughing too hard to pity me.

Does anyone else know the source of the word "raspberry"? It's funny. Apparently, a lot of Cockney idioms involve rhyming. Things like saying Barney when someone's in trouble. Barney=>Barney Rubble=>Trouble, although I htink that particular one is made up.

So, what about blowing a raspberry?

Apparently, the first words in the rhyme here are "Raspberry TART".

Oh, well, *I* thought it was funny.
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I forgot to say Happy Hannukah to all. It was so early this year, I keep forgetting. J and I are going to make potato pancakes and exchange some of our gifts tomorrow night.

12/05/02

I woke up this morning, and sounded like James Earl Jones. I got so excited, I didn't shut up all day. Unfortunately, this excessive vocal cord use turned James Earl Jones into Croaky, the Hoarse Chainsmoking Prospector. So I'm fairly entertaining to talk to right now.
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I don't remember if I've mentioned this before, but the Paul Newman Food Producing Empire has a variety of cookie called "Tops and Bottoms", and I walk by them every time I go to the local grocery co-op. They always provide me with a wealth of snarky and very crude things that I could say, but (usually) don't.

There's a point at which you begin to wonder if your love of gay men hasn't turned you into one. I wonder this, and my friend J. Michael pops into my head. "Girl, please, you've ALWAYS been a gay man. Duh."
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J and I need a nice place to put our boots on, so he was looking for doormats on eBay. Last night he mentioned that he'd found one that suited him. When I asked for a description, he said "well, it's black, and it has two arrows, going different ways." Why arrows? I just didn't get why there would be arrows. Is it supposed to be for one-way doors? Are you supposed to walk back and forth to get the grime off your shoes? "It's just...arrows, what don't you get?" was his response. I continued to be stubbornly Seinfeld-ey in my refusal to understand simple arrows. Annoyed with my confusion, he emailed me the link to the auction this morning. I quote:
"The mat is black with gray arrows pointing in opposite directions, signifying a whimsical direction of recommended travel."

Ah.

Whimsy.

Why didn't he just say so?

12/04/02

Officially better than I was yesterday, which is a start. The last couple of days, I've felt equally sick to the previous day, just the source of illness kept moving around. Everything to being boogery to having a scratchy throat. Now it's just a little bit of all of them, which I can deal with.

Had a semi-social outing at a membership meeting of a local cooperative bookstore last night. J and I have membership at a couple of local co-ops--there's a grocery a few blocks away where we get all of our hippy groceries that normal grocery stores around here don't carry--I miss Wegman's.

There's also this bookstore. Nice people, good potluck food. I should really buy more from them. I was wandering around last night, and they have some really neat working-class activism-type books. I bought one from them last year called "Teaching the Working Class". Unfortunately, if you take the contents of the book as being as all-encompassing as the title suggests, the only time people teach working class kids is in college-level Creative Writing and Sociology classes. Mmf. But good times were had.

Here's a more detailed rundown of Thanksgiving:
We went to J's cousins' house in Milwaukee. Mostly strangers to both of us (many in-laws of in-laws and third cousins once removed that J hadn't seen since toddlerhood). All nice, though. Good food, totally jam-packed living room (over 30 people!), young-ish (within 10 years of us) folks to talk to. We spent the night at another cousin's house, and went to the Milwaukee Art Museum the next day. On the way back, we took a scenic route and gawked at the zillion-dollar houses along the coast of Lake Michigan. Just insane. The garages there are bigger than our entire building. The guest houses (or servant quarters, I have no idea) are about the size of the biggest actual house I've ever been in (one of the Connecticut McMansions that someone I went to high school with lived in).

It was fun to look, at least.

And that was about it for our weekend. We were home by Friday night, worked on holiday cards, opened our Hannukah presents from J's parents (thanks!). I spent most of Sunday dead: I was just so achy and sore all over, all I wanted to do was sleep, but I was so achy that nothing was comfortable.
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I'm now the owner of a filling.

My first cavity! How embarassing.

I was surprized at how quick it was, though--I've gotten sealants on my teeth a few other times, and it seemed like it took an hour of the dentist's poking and prodding and HURTING before they got things the way they wanted them. Yesterday, once the Novocaine set in, it only took about 15 minutes to set everything up. I was in and out like nothing. And as an added bonus, some of the pre-shot numbing stuff dripped down my scratchy throat, so I was actually in less pain DURING the process than right before.

And then I got to lisp my way through serious conversations with my advisors an hour later.

J laughed at me the whole ride home, trying to talk as fast as I normally do with my tongue flopping all over like a half-dead fish.

12/02/02

Had a decent Thanksgiving. More details later: I'm recuperating from some mysterious illness that makes every inch of your body hurt. No unreasonable amounts of mucus, no coughing, no real fever. Must have sleptwalked through a gauntlet or something. So I'm going to leave a little early and go take a nap.

But meanwhile, enjoy this: Mothers Against Peeing Standing Up

Funnyfunny.