I Hate Being A Grown Up

My dad is fond of telling me when things get difficult "welcome to being an adult". Today was one of those days.

R was over today, as usual, and we decided we would do some errands then head out for dinner to celebrate A's birthday (he's a friend of mine from back in Chicago). We try to do recycling in the town nearby, only to find out that for all it's thoroughness, they're closed on Sunday. When are they open, you ask? Well, there's Saturday/Shabbos, which doesn't help me at all, and, oh, that's right, weekdays from 9 AM to 4 PM. Because apparently, on Long Island, instead of taking lunch, one day a week, the inhabitants of Long Island go and drop off their recycling. Needless to say, this puzzled and annoyed both R and I, but we got over it and ended up dumping it in a dumpster after lugging a backseat full of trash around for an hour. Sorry environment, we owe you one.

That's only where the fun began. We went to Target. Target is dangerous. Target has a lot of stuff and fairly cheap prices (you think), so as is our habit, me and R manage to buy a little more than we intended, but no biggie. Lesson learned and all. We go to the supermarket, which I'm starting to like more and more. The guy watering the vegetables (waterboy?) could actually tell the difference between cilantro and parsley, which for the life of me, I could not do and neither could R. Also got a cake for my Grandmother, who we're spending Yom Kippur by. I want to eat it now. I'm going to try not to.

Then we get to arguably the best vegetable stand in the world. They grow almost everything there, it's all fresh, and it all lasts forever because it hasn't been sitting in a shipping container for Lord knows how long. It's also dirt cheap. We got four or five bags of produce and it cost me less than $20. That's right, less than $20. I'll be shopping there for the next four years and doing a victory dance every time I head to my car.

We bring back our booty (I use booty because it makes me feel like a pirate), which R, in her infinite thoughtfulness, unpacks and puts away so I can get started on some work. She's awesome. If my research here falls through, I will document her awesomeness and include graphs and charts and try to publish on that. I could totally defend that dissertation.

At about 5, we head out to catch the LIRR into the city for A's birthday. Now, something I didn't mention is that since I picked up R on Friday, the car had been acting funny. Not funny haha, but funny oh no. I didn't know what it was, so I chose the ostrich method of dealing with the problem--pretend nothing is wrong and keep my head in the ground. Sounded funny last night, didn't sound as bad today, until we're on our way to the station and we hit a rough patch of road (they've been repaving the roads here for the last 2 weeks...hmmmm) and my car starts shaking. And rumbling. And generally sounding like:

• It's gonna blow
• I souped it up
• It will take flight, we will make it into outer space and maybe even to Mars.

Although the last two would be cool, R (again right) said it would probably be better to turn around, head back, and get the thing towed and looked at tomorrow. LOVELY. My car must have overheard me saying that I love spending money on my baby. Except what my car didn't understand is that by baby I meant R and that the money I had in mind was, oh, say, $40-$60 for dinner and not $600 to get ripped off by a mechanic. Silly car. She's officially been named. It's Agnes.

So tomorrow morning, I'm getting towed to the mechanic, where I will say, "Fix it!" and his eyes (or her eyes...?) will fill with dollar signs and my grad student stipend I've been saving will go to Agnes, so that she can spend a day in the shop with the Beemers and Lexi (is that plural for Lexus?) of the townsfolk. I guess it's kinda like a spa day for cars...maybe she deserves it. Then again, maybe I should save money for the future. Unfortunately, Agnes is stubborn as a mule, or a lifeless, soulless piece of metal that is slowly becoming a money pit, so she has forced my hand.

Other than that...well, High Holidays grrrr. If you're in school and you're missing class for Rosh Hashana or Yom Kippur, you'll know what I mean. It's a mix of procrastination and celebration that leaves me breathlessly and barely making deadlines until the end of October. So holidays are great, but the intervening time, not so much. I have a problem set (perhaps two by the end of Monday) due by the end of the week, and I'll be fasting and praying for my soul Thursday. Funny how all that introspection can take a whole day. Eh, it was gonna be hard anyway, what's a little more pressure?

Also, for those in need of Yom Kippur humor.

Hope y'all have a great fast if you're Jewish, and if you're not, enjoy eating!

Back and Forth

So after catching up for the past week, I can look back at my brother's wedding and say that it was great. I have yet to see the happy couple, but looking past the work that looked insurmountable on Monday (and was pretty overwhelming until, oh, about 10 PM on Thursday), it was a great time, my brother's a great guy and his wife (whoa...) is an amazing person. They'll be fun to hang out with.

To say nothing of spending the time with R (she made it into family pics too, so now you know it's serious). She was great during the weekend, the family loved her, I love her, and Tuesday night we went out for awesome Chinese food in Great Neck. I haven't been to a good Chinese restaurant since Mi Tsu Yun was a decent restaurant and I was...13? Yes, that excludes Estihana. If you've been there, you'll know why. So if you're from Chicago and miss the good old days of Chicago Chinese food...if you happen to be in Long Island, stop by Cho-Sen Village. And if you give about thirty minutes warning, you'll have one happy couple who'd love to join you.

So, as is obligatory (right?), it's the night before Rosh Hashana and I'm supposed to be in fear of my life (according to some of my HS teachers) or I can think about the life I've lived and the life I'm hoping to make for myself in the next year (that's the Evanston psak). I think this year I'll try out the latter.

This past year was great in a lot of obvious ways (amazing girlfriend, finishing college, getting into an amazing grad school, good times with family and friend generally feeling like things are going great) and in a lot of subtle ways too. I think I've finally kicked my occasional video game addiction (I hope...) and became a happier person. I get along better with the fam and I'm almost (kinda sorta if you forget my student loans...hoo boy) financially solvent. That's saying a lot in a year like this.

I'm in an amazing place now. No, not spiritually. Well, maybe that too, but I meant literally too. CSHL is inspiring. Allow me to explain. If you've met me, you might know that every once in a while, I get bothered by things that are way out of my league (the economy, Sudan, Iraq, homeless people in Evanston in New York, etc., etc.). There's just one problem--that whole out of my league thing. There's precious little I can do, save from giving a homeless person a few bucks here or there. However, I have the good fortune of being a nerd. Not just a little bit of a nerd. A lot of nerd. Sometimes I scare myself. But I can use it.

Every week, in addition to lots of science classes, we have three of the lab's professors come in and tell us about their work. I'm sure it's not surprising that a lot of them have some rather dry interests like "DNA replication". Make no mistake, this stuff is very very important and years from now, it can change the face of the world we live in, but there are also people with other interests. Like cancer or mental disorders.

One of the good doctors who came in had a research project on the genetic causes of autism, schizophrenia and depression, among other things. One of my classmates asked him a technical question which he (PI) probably overreacted to. But when he responded, you could tell he wasn't just doing this because he's curious. He's seen the suffering people go through when they have these disorders or when their loved ones have suffered through them. This wasn't an academic exercise for him--this was personal.

I don't know what I'll be doing yet (stay tuned for updates in January....), but whatever it is that I do, I hope I come out like that guy. Because I'm no economics expert, I don't have the money or the organizational skills to do something about a lot of problems that we read about and see every day, and I'm no politician or activist. But I can be a good scientist I think, so I'm gonna work with that for now. I just need to make sure I don't lose sight of the people I want to help (if I can be pretentious enough in this post to think that I'll help--we'll see).

Shana Tova (Happy New Year)

-Mitch

I'm Going to Elope

Not seriously, but I entertained the idea more than once this weekend.

My brother got married this weekend to a lovely girl (Mazel Tov to the new couple :-) ) and the weekend was actually very very good. R was with me the whole time, I attempted to read papers for school, but upon finding out my workload was going to be significantly lighter than I thought it would be this week (Yay!!!), I promptly abandoned them in favor of sleep, and J got married.

Shabbos was nice too, (time spent with R + good food) x my extended family liking her = better than I expected the weekend to go. To be clear, I knew the fam would like R, but the food was a pleasant surprise.

The newlyweds look thrilled. And they can hold hands!!!! In our spare moments, R & I joked that that was the express purpose of the entire weekend--okay, half-joked.

There was one slight problem. We flew early. Early is murder. On the plus side, I have actually identified THE ungodly hour. It's 5 AM. Don't believe me? YOU try waking up then and see how you like it. Friday's flight in was a 6:30 AM flight, so naturally I didn't finish with class until about 10 PM, got annoyed with a fellow classmate and decided to head to the bar for a Duvel to calm me down. I stepped back into the house at around 10:45 PM, only to start laundry, finish laundry, pack, shower, look up and see that I have to leave for the airport in 15 minutes.

Today was better. Today I got to go to sleep at 2 AM and then wake up at 5 AM. I set three alarms and only woke up after R knocked on my door at 5:15 AM. She's clearly better than me, but at least she's patient enough to help me out.

So I'm eloping because it seems easier than asking some poor schmo and his patient and loving girlfriend (I assume there's someone like us at any wedding) to get up at ungodly hours to come and watch us hold hands. If you've seen us already, then it won't be anything new anyway.

I wonder if there's a Jewish synagogue in the Galapagos....

Power Nerds Anonymous

As I found out over the weekend and most especially over the last two days, it turns out grad school does actually involve class, homework, reading and papers. Sigh.

I finally realized I was in for a ride today at about 2:45, when I was in an academic mentorship meeting (we're supposed to pick faculty who can help us with the non-research side of grad school) with Dr. C. Dr. C is a great guy and we had a great conversation, but he's also one of the faculty who helped develop the grad school curriculum. I wish I could quote him verbatim, but what he said was something along the lines of, "We carefully titrate the amount of work you have so that while it doesn't drain your soul, if you're not careful, it can take almost every spare minute you have." (Yes he said titrate. And he's now my top choice for my mentor.)

I had a feeling this might happen.

Luckily, I have one excellent reason to stay disciplined and keep working hard, and that's R. She comes to New York Sunday and I'll be damned if the first time I see her in 3 weeks will involve me reading (or honestly, re-reading) a paper, writing a presentation or finishing a problem set.

About the same time I realized that I somehow managed to be able to study or be in class for about 10 hours yesterday and perhaps 7 or 8 today.

All biology, all the time baby. That's how we roll.

Avoid Boring People

Get it? It means two things! It's also the title of a book by the former president of my graduate school, The Dr.

Grad school has been an experience so far. I've been here for a week and a half, and I will say that while they treat you really well (UNBELIEVABLY well if you're a fan of mediocre Long Island pizza), you'd better be willing to work hard. And go to dinner parties. No, I'm not joking.

Our first official week of classes started off with orientation and me wishing for my car to come already. I got a fancy ID badge, a permit for my yet to have arrived car and a lease for my room. It's a great room. Cheap, comfy, furnished and when I wake up in the morning, I get a view of the Long Island Sound (a name that would probably be the best thing about whatever band decided to call themselves that). I'll try and post a picture soon. We also got new laptops! So I'm writing this entry on my brand new MacBook Pro that comes with Adobe Illustrator, Photoshop, loads of scientific software, Microsoft Office and a free laptop case (they capped us at $100 and I took them at their word). This computer is easily worth about 4 or 5 months rent at my old place. We then had a welcome party at the lab's bar. If you've seen me at open bar, you'll know I always stop drinking one drink too late. This time was no different. I was tipsy (not drunk), stumbled home and napped. Lovely way to start the grad school. Tuesday they took us out for a cruise on the bay in the afternoon where we got to see Billy Joel's house (guesses on which song paid for it?) and get sunburned. I took advantage of both. Wednesday my baby (ahem, car) came and I promptly took it to Ikea to get a bookcase for my room, which did not have a place for the 6 boxes of books I shipped from home. Years from now, my wife will complain that I never throw anything out, but for now, I'll enjoy being a pack rat.

Thursday the fun began. After assembling the bookcase and napping, I cleaned myself up and headed out to a wine and cheese on the lab president's lawn (beer), then sat for dinner for an hour and a half (more beer) where a friend of mine pointed out that every course (there were three of them, enough to notice a trend) lasted exactly one half hour. Except for coffee, which lasted an hour. At 8:15, I jumped in my car, sped to my cousin's wedding just in time for the main course (steak and wine!), stayed for too long again, then got back at 1:15. I had to be up for class the next day at 9, so I set my alarm for 7:15 AM (there's only so many times I can press snooze before I just give in to the clock), got to class, got to the recycling center, which recycles styrofoam too, and then to the bank and groceries. The grocery store made me wish for home, where shopping wasn't like being in a zoo. I was hoping to join the fam in Teaneck for Shabbos, but the first year students were invited (it's worth noting that the lab "inviting" is like Don Corleone "asking for a favor"-saying no isn't really an option), to a concert and dinner at The Dr.'s house.

The redeeming thing is that the classes themselves so far have been really good (further proof I am a nerd among nerds) and everything here is gorgeous. And the other first year students are very cool. The only problem is when you're one of four Americans in a class of 15, you feel kinda bland. I might have to start faking an accent to make up for it.

Next week R comes back and it's been long enough. I miss her more than I thought I would and it looks like she's found a place to live, so when she gets to NYC, the move won't be as tough as it might have been. I'm just happy she's almost here. I'll be thrilled when I can pick her up from the airport :-)

"That's Hot"

I'm constantly amazed by how excited people seem to be about the idea of me (or anyone for that matter) getting a PhD in genetics. The title of this entry is actually a direct quote from the bank teller I happened to speak to today while I was getting a bank check for my auto transporter. I guess asking for it to be made out to an auto shipping company is a dead giveaway. Then there are people like my cousin, who remind me that in the future, I will be "minting money".

I have absolutely no clue about how or where I'll end up. Right now my long terms plans are get out of grad school (hopefully in 4 years 0:-) ), get a job and spend my life with R. That's it. If I can mint money, that's cool too. But I gotta say, the reactions I get from other people make my life seem much more exciting than it seems to me. I just like biology. I'm a nerd. If my life ends up being half as cool or successful as everyone else seems to think it will be, then party at my place in 10 years or so when things get themselves on the up and up. I'll send out an Evite--or whatever newfangled thingamabob people will be using in 10 years.

And if I sound tired or disjointed in this email, it's because I've been driving for 10 hours (7.5 or more tomorrow...yay!). Please excuse. More coherent posts will follow.

We Are Clear for Takeoff

So in my life, it seems natural for things to not hit me until the last second. Today is a perfect example. I woke up (9:30 AM woooo!) and suddenly realized, "Holy s**t, I'm moving to New York tomorrow". I have a good excuse for not really getting caught up in the idea until now. The last two or three weeks have involved a last minute trip to New York to support my lovely girlfriend R while she went for interviews in and around the city (4 job offers on 4 interviews. . . she may be smarter than me), packing, and saying goodbye to R as she headed out to visit her family in FL before she too makes the move to New York and we have to start figuring out how to continue spending all our free time together when we are about an hour further apart.

I cannot begin to emphasize how big a pain packing up is. I'm sure if you've moved, you know the feeling too. First, you think you have too much stuff and you have absolutely no interest in packing anything more than a small suitcase with some clothing and a pocketknife (just in case I get hungry). Then I start to realize little things, like how my textbooks represent countless hours of work and thousands of dollars of investment in buying them (and a small fortune to pay for college). . . maybe I should keep them. Then as I go through my closet, I realize that not ALL of my clothes are crap, so I pack most of them too. Then I decide that I really could use some new clothing, and proceed to spend ungodly amounts of money (ungodly is a relative term, for me it's in the $300+ range) on nice new clothes picked out with the help of the amazing R once again. . . which I immediately stuff into boxes. I started out thinking I could pack all my stuff into 12 or 13 boxes. It ended up being more like 18.

That--in addition to saying goodbye to R--has made the last few weeks a blur. Olympics? You mean the TV I watch when my roommate is out of the den while I'm packing? Video games? They were the bane of my existence this summer (I think there were days when I played 10+ hours), and only further proved how much R loves me (love you too!), but once I started packing, the only thing I could justifiably do was look longingly at my roommate's XBox 360, then go back to my room for more packing. At least it broke of some bad habits. On the other hand, it feels less like I'm going to graduate school than becoming a mover.

So I'm off tomorrow, maybe I can post from the road and thus starts the new adventures of Mitch. I just hope all those boxes fit in my new place.