Brief comments

My first nerdy joke
I don’t give myself much credit for being smart or scientific. I don’t think what I do is all the interesting when I’m with folks who don’t do something similar. I don’t mean to misspeak – I adore my work and when placed with people who know the language and can offer interesting insight, it’s an interesting topic for conversation and I enjoy it. But if you don’t do my stuff, let’s speak of other things.

When I’m with Carrie – who does what I do – we generally avoid science topics. So I was shocked and delighted when we were discussing music and I came up with a relatively nerdy statement. We were perusing music libraries over a shared network – a bit nerdy in and of itself, and talking of KT Turnstall – a new favorite artist of mine.

“I don’t like her song. Horse, cherry, something.” Carrie said.

“How can you not like that?! It’s so catchy!” I replied, a bit offended.

“[Her husband] hates ‘woo hoo.’ His grandmother apparently used it all the time and he hates it a lot. So in support of him, I dislike the song.”

“I don’t mind ‘woo hoo’ as a phrase.” I said. “It’s interesting that he dislikes-“

“Hates. Not dislikes.” She interrupted. “And it’s anything starting with ‘woo.’”

“Hmmm.” I responded, starting to get distracted by her music – much of which I wanted. “I get it. Rm woo *”

I glanced up to find her grinning at me like a proud mentor. “Woo *.” She laughed. “Exactly.”

A study in contrasts
Yesterday I was home (my parents’ house) alone. I did very little. Finished up a bit of work, moped about having to go home to my solitary and sometimes unhappy little life. I need to figure out what to change to make myself more hopeful and upbeat. I’m working on it. The problem is that in changing parts of my life – somewhat haphazardly – could result in changing the wrong things. It’s difficult, but I’m impatient. It goes against every instinct for me to wait situations out. I’ll give it only so much time, tapping my feet impatiently all the while, then I’ll start altering conditions in the hope that something works out. Makes me feel better.

So yesterday I slept. Ate a significant (yes, p<0.05) amount of leftovers from a family gathering I missed while in Florida. Felt sort of sick from eating more than normal (stromboli, chicken salad, chips and vegetables with dip, rice krispie treats, chocolate chip cookies… There was more but I blocked it out, apparently.), so I slept some more. Listened to sad music, and basically moped.

The Little One slept over last night, which I was kind of dreading in my “woe is me” state. But she was cuddly and a bit whiny, offering up a few simply worded demands before being put in a stroller for a walk. Her mood greatly improved thereafter, and she proceeded to scare us by jumping forward in a crouch, hands curled into claws, and shouting “Boo!” Then she’d laugh at our expressions of fear. With all modesty, I’m best at pretending to be afraid. She’s also impatient when playing hide and seek – she’ll let me look for her very briefly (like 5 seconds) before shouting, “Katie! Katie!” which makes her pretty easy to find.

This morning found me waking before 6 and taking Advil immediately. I didn’t sleep well. Coffee helped a great deal, and I perked up enough to get ready for another walk. While trying to control my exuberant dog and push a substandard stroller full of toddler, carrying a sippy cup and boppy, doesn’t sound particularly relaxing, I found myself feeling increasingly content as we wandered my old neighborhood. Adding memories of walks with the Little One to the ones of many trips around our street that I’ve taken with other friends.

The point? A busy Katie – one who socializes with the select group of people I love – is a happy Katie. It’s good for me to continually remind myself of that when I tend to withdraw more often than not.

Stuff
My uncle – Dad’s brother – died in July. They weren’t close in recent years, and I haven’t written about it because it’s strangely difficult to articulate my feelings on the matter, but I’m bothered by it. The loss of someone who had ample time but failed to reach his potential. Putting his life in perspective – while family is vitally important for me and while I’ll mourn deeply if I don’t have a child, it’s not the same for everyone. I’m still pulling it together though.

It’s probably due to the fact that I’m not ready to completely process this – his death, what it all means – that I’m bothered so much by seeing his stuff here at my parents’. I remembering throwing a minor tantrum when cleaning out Grandma’s apartment after she died. I was in high school and demanded her engagement ring – the only jewelry I wear consistently. Then cringed over the packing – taking what we wanted, deciding what to send to the women’s shelter. It’s just so crass on some level, isn’t it? Someone’s gone and you should care, yet it’s reduced to a matter of what to do with this stuff – the items that exist around a life.

My uncle had a lot of stuff. Movies probably numbering near 1,000. They’ve been divided – people taking what they want. There are likely 100 or so here at the house. Some I wouldn’t mind watching. So why does the thought of watching them creep me out. Make me think of Uncle Ray sitting in his tiny house – alone by choice – watching movies. I wonder if he laughed – I seldom heard him chuckle, though he has many comedies. I wonder if he had friends come over to watch with him, but sincerely doubt it. I think he’d resent that we had them now – he wasn’t overly fond of us, more critical than anything else. Maybe I’m too attached to my own possessions - but I doubt I’ll watch Bewitched or Madagascar or Shark Tale. It just strikes me as uncomfortable. As will putting the tools in my garage that Dad just gathered for me to take home. Brother has a garage full – Uncle Ray loved working on cars.

Dad, having created a pile of stuff for me to take from his own piles, just informed me that my aunt – I haven’t seen her in years – has Uncle Ray’s ashes in a box in her house.

“I didn’t want him.” Dad told me, and I nodded. His stuff is bad enough, but does it get less classy or dignified than Uncle Ray in a box? Good Lord.

Arial update
The writing, once fearfully faced, went pretty well. I’ve heavily revised one paper and sent it back to my advisor so we can continue to mess with it. I sent more revisions off – 2 weeks before they were due! – and am proud of the paper. It’s pretty darn good. My abstract got accepted, putting me in the cool weather of the northeast for part of October. I’m looking forward to that – nothing wrong with the Poconos in the fall.

It’s still hard – it likely will be for some time since there’s so much rejection involved in the process. But it’s coming along.

Return to normal programming
I return home on Sunday – to wireless internet and relative loneliness. Normal posting and whining should resume very shortly thereafter. I miss you guys, but sporadic wireless in Florida followed by painfully slow dial-up here in Illinois has meant my online activity has been pretty low.

I'm dreading the return home - I'm not completely sure why - but having easy online access is definitely not the reason.