Cross-Country Connections: Moving

Cross-Country Connections is a Biodork weekly blog entry dedicated to telling stories in pictures of three family members – me, my sister and Mom – living in very different locations across the country. Every week we choose a different theme and then take or contribute a personal photo that fits the theme. This week’s theme is…

Well, this week’s theme is Moving, but the three of us decided to not submit individual photos. The theme is moving because this past weekend Mom moved from Carbondale, Illinois to Hagerstown, Maryland (and in the process making Cross-Country Connections a little less cross-country, but we’ll forgive her for that). I flew down from Minneapolis to accompany her on the drive, and Erin drove in from Takoma Park, Maryland to help clean and break in the new house. So in honor of Mom’s move, here’s a photo of me, Erin and Mom celebrating with Maryland crab cake and other delicious food at Schulas Grill and Crab House in Hagerstown:

Erin, Me, Mom sharing dinner

Cross-Country Connections: Moving
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Cross-Country Connections: Empty

Cross-Country Connections is a Biodork weekly blog entry dedicated to telling stories in pictures of three family members – me, my sister and Mom – living in very different locations across the country. Every week we choose a different theme and then take or contribute a personal photo that fits the theme. This week’s theme is Empty.

Since the second time since we began Cross-Country Connections, one of our trio is making a MAJOR cross-country move. Mom finally sold her house in Carbondale, Illinois and is moving out to Hagerstown, Maryland. TOMORROW, in fact. I’m catching an early morning flight down to Southern Illinois in just a few short hours (holy crap – I have to get to bed!) to help her, the two cats and one dog make the 12-hour cross-country drive.

So – three cheers for Mom’s last post from Carbondale, Illinois!

From Mom in Carbondale, Illinois: 

CCC Empty Mom
Getting down to short strokes here. I move on Wednesday!

From me in Minneapolis, Minnesota:

CCC Empty Brianne
Insert Coins video game nightclub in Minneapolis from one night last year. The empty dance floor is probably one of the reasons why this awesome club closed one year after it opened.

From Erin in Takoma Park, Maryland:

CCC Empty Erin
The entrance to Hurricane Harbor at Six Flags America in Maryland. At 9 pm as the park closes after Fright Fest.

Cross-Country Connections: Empty

The End of Fall

It’s been a gray, chilly day. The seasons are moving from comfortable, cool autumn ever closer to the harsh winter freeze that I dislike so much. During our morning shift we clinic escorts discussed the upcoming need for layering and long johns. This afternoon the Hubby and I gathered up motorcycle gear and engine stabilizer and prepared to move the bike to its winter home in Mounds View, Minnesota – approximately 12 miles by highway from Minneapolis – where it will stay for the next six or seven months until spring rolls around again. We had barely begun our trip when the sky let loose with a torrent of frozen hail and rain. I was driving the truck behind a heavily bundled-up Hubby, mentally calling to him “Don’t get on the highway. Please don’t get on the highway.” At the last minute he veered right onto the frontage road rather than left onto the entrance ramp. Phew – mission aborted.

Here we go again: another winter.

The End of Fall

Eureka Moments

The most exciting phrase to hear in science, the one that heralds new discoveries, is not “Eureka” but “That’s funny…” —Isaac Asimov (1920–1992).

I had a “Eureka!” moment today. An honest-to-goodness real-all-growed-up-scientist Eureka moment. In my case the particular exclamation wasn’t “that’s funny”, but “NOOOOOOO! What the @%$&*# is that!?” which is a slightly less literary turn of phrase than Asimov gave us, but I think probably more common in the real world.

I saw the weirdness, got my swearing out of the way and then spent about twenty minutes organizing and re-organizing data, then turning my computer upside down to get yet another view. Next I had to go over my methods and try to figure out where I might have screwed something up. And in a moment of absolutely stunning clarity, I found the pattern. And it was a pattern. Everything fit! I actually pulled a passing coworker over to my desk saying “Do you see this?”

I won’t describe it here because it’s boringly specialized and to try to explain it would dull the awesomeness of the moment. But there is a good chance that the finding may help my group further our understanding of the science that’s driving our project.

The thing that I learned today ain’t gonna get me a paper or a patent – some scientist somewhere would undoubtedly look at my announcement and go “Ummm…yeah? We knew that.” But no one in OUR group knew it. This is a special interaction that is (might be) affecting one tiny part of the greater whole of what we’re working on. It wouldn’t be new science, but it would be a new understanding of why we’re seeing the weird things we’ve occasionally been seeing. And hey, it may help us build in controls that will make the final product just a bit better.

Not every Eureka moment leads to the Theory of Special Relativity or Post-It glue, but I think a lot of people – including scientists – feel like if they’re not Einstein or Dr. Gregory House they’re never going to have that moment when a bus drives by and an advert for polka dot bikinis catches your eye and makes you think of the spots that the patient reported seeing, and all sound fades out and you get a stupid blank look on your face and then you shout “SARCCOIDOSIS!”

Nah…For most of us, Eureka moments usually have to be earned with laborious, dull effort. But that means they can be earned with hard work – not just be had by those with innate genius or mad observational and deductive skills.

Annoyingly, Eureka moments also have to be verified. So wish me luck – the results that will support (not prove, mind you) my hypothesis should come off the instrument any moment now!

Eureka Moments

Clinic Escorting Tales

Last Saturday was the first time that I’ve escorted during the current round of 40 Days For Life (Imma start shortening that to 40DfL). As the name might indicate, this is an anti-abortion event that spans Forty. Loooooong. Days. It was created to help prolife groups energize their ranks. 40DfL activities are hosted by local groups, and each group has different events, but they typically revolve around holding prayer vigils, fasting, harassing patients and companions outside of clinics that provide abortions, and smiling in a creepy, brainwashed way at the escorts and clients while inviting us to “just talk for a moment”.

I’ve escorted during 40DfL and it’s always been a bit of a circus. But we get through it.

40DfL snuck up on me this time. Me, Jailawrites and Pixelsnake (twitter handles used for privacy) showed up for the 7am shift on Saturday and were met by the usual suspects. Pleasantries were exchanged (“How many babies are on death row today?” from her, and quiet chatting amongst ourselves as we ignored her) and we did the clinic escort thing until our shift was over at 8:30am. There were no other escorts this morning and only seven protesters. A normal Saturday morning for all involved.

Continue reading “Clinic Escorting Tales”

Clinic Escorting Tales

Some Days They're Down

A story, a mini-rant and a hug:

I think that a lot of people don’t understand mental illness, in part, because it doesn’t get better and go away. For most of us, our experience with sickness or injury is that it’s temporary. You get sick, you get better, and life continues with you back at your cheery, happy, ready-to-contribute-at-100% self. And of course, the less sick time or recovery time you need, the more admirable you’re found to be. *sigh*

“I have to stop calling you like this.”

I had just arrived at a friend’s house when he made this pronouncement. It was filled with self-loathing, despair and apology. He had called me – as he has on several occasions – because he was frightened for his safety by the lies his brain was telling him. And I struggled – as I have on several occasions – with how I could try to make him hear me that he could call me every night if he needed, that I would never judge him for calling me. I want him to know – and I think he does – that no matter how many times he gets better and worse and better and worse, I understand that this is his illness and not a personal failure on his part. But that’s not how many people feel about mental illness, and he knows this, and on the low days I think he sees himself as the inconvenience that so much of our culture tells him he is.

We shouldn’t guilt or shame sick people for these relapses or flare-ups, or for how long it takes them to get better- if they get better. I’m not saying that it’s bad to be angry or frustrated – emotions happen. But too often I hear healthy people get all judgey – indignant, personally offended – over relatively minor things like someone taking sick time or canceling plans at the last minute because they aren’t able to cope with work/socializing/leaving the house/getting out of bed. What most of us don’t see behind these relatively minor inconveniences to us are the difficult battles that are being waged by the person against their illness, or at least against the manifestations of their illness.

From those of us who don’t have to struggle with mental illness I would like to see more compassion, more willingness to listen when we are asked for help or for understanding, and more pride for our acquaintances, friends and family who are trying to survive hells that we can only imagine. That’s my little pipe dream of the day.

An after-note for those of you reading this: Every situation is unique and I don’t presume to know your situation or to judge your reactions or emotions when dealing with illness, whether it be your own or someone else’s. It’s often impossible to separate individuals from their illness; their illness is part of who they are. I have friends who are actively trying to survive their illnesses, and I know people who seem intent on crashing and burning, who make me angry and frustrated when they seem to continuously make decisions that only worsen their circumstances. In some of these situations I find my limit; I have to step back. As with all things, take care of yourselves.

Some Days They're Down

Some Days They’re Down

A story, a mini-rant and a hug:

I think that a lot of people don’t understand mental illness, in part, because it doesn’t get better and go away. For most of us, our experience with sickness or injury is that it’s temporary. You get sick, you get better, and life continues with you back at your cheery, happy, ready-to-contribute-at-100% self. And of course, the less sick time or recovery time you need, the more admirable you’re found to be. *sigh*

“I have to stop calling you like this.”

I had just arrived at a friend’s house when he made this pronouncement. It was filled with self-loathing, despair and apology. He had called me – as he has on several occasions – because he was frightened for his safety by the lies his brain was telling him. And I struggled – as I have on several occasions – with how I could try to make him hear me that he could call me every night if he needed, that I would never judge him for calling me. I want him to know – and I think he does – that no matter how many times he gets better and worse and better and worse, I understand that this is his illness and not a personal failure on his part. But that’s not how many people feel about mental illness, and he knows this, and on the low days I think he sees himself as the inconvenience that so much of our culture tells him he is.

We shouldn’t guilt or shame sick people for these relapses or flare-ups, or for how long it takes them to get better- if they get better. I’m not saying that it’s bad to be angry or frustrated – emotions happen. But too often I hear healthy people get all judgey – indignant, personally offended – over relatively minor things like someone taking sick time or canceling plans at the last minute because they aren’t able to cope with work/socializing/leaving the house/getting out of bed. What most of us don’t see behind these relatively minor inconveniences to us are the difficult battles that are being waged by the person against their illness, or at least against the manifestations of their illness.

From those of us who don’t have to struggle with mental illness I would like to see more compassion, more willingness to listen when we are asked for help or for understanding, and more pride for our acquaintances, friends and family who are trying to survive hells that we can only imagine. That’s my little pipe dream of the day.

An after-note for those of you reading this: Every situation is unique and I don’t presume to know your situation or to judge your reactions or emotions when dealing with illness, whether it be your own or someone else’s. It’s often impossible to separate individuals from their illness; their illness is part of who they are. I have friends who are actively trying to survive their illnesses, and I know people who seem intent on crashing and burning, who make me angry and frustrated when they seem to continuously make decisions that only worsen their circumstances. In some of these situations I find my limit; I have to step back. As with all things, take care of yourselves.

Some Days They’re Down

Cross-Country Connections: Lazy

D’oh! I accidentally set the visibility on this to private AND set it to publish next Monday. Winning.

So without further delay: Cross-Country Connections!

Cross-Country Connections is a Biodork weekly blog entry dedicated to telling stories in pictures of three family members – me, my sister and Mom – living in very different locations across the country. Every week we choose a different theme and then take or contribute a personal photo that fits the theme. This week’s theme is Lazy.

From Erin in Takoma Park, Maryland:

CCC Lazy Erin

On a lazy fall walk through the Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens in SE DC.

From Mom in Carbondale, Illinois:

CCC Lazy Mom

Not sure which one of us is lazier here – me or my stepcat, Maurice.

From me in Minneapolis, Minnesota:

CCC Lazy Brianne

It’s getting colder, so lazy nights now include blankets, heavy socks and snuggly puppies to keep us warm.

Author’s Note: Hmmm…turtle, cat and dog. I think I’m noticing a trend between being around animals and feeling lazy.

Cross-Country Connections: Lazy

Cross-Country Connections: Harvest

Cross-Country Connections is a Biodork weekly blog entry dedicated to telling stories in pictures of three family members – me, my sister and Mom – living in very different locations across the country. Every week we choose a different theme and then take or contribute a personal photo that fits the theme. This week’s theme is Harvest.

From Erin in Takoma Park, Maryland:

CCC Harvest Erin (1024x1018)
Unknown bushes with beautiful berries. I thought the colors were right, even though its been 90 degrees here in DC.

From Mom in Carbondale, Illinois:

CCC Harvest Mom (1024x765)
Probably my last train ride from Carbondale to Chicago. The feed corn is ready for harvest.

From me in Minneapolis, Minnesota:

CCC Harvest Brianne (1024x687)

My take from a trip to the Minneapolis Farmer’s Market.

Cross-Country Connections: Harvest

Through God-Colored Glasses

The Skeptic's Annotated Bible

This morning I took part in the Atheists Talk interview of Steve Wells, creator of the Skeptic’s Annotated Bible. I’ve been a big fan of the SAB website for several years, mostly because of the “categories” that he has put together to capture the different messages that are presented in the Bible. For instance, if I want a quick list of scientific and historical inaccuracies in the Bible, or passages that threaten, blame or harm women I can reference the SAB. I want to pick up a copy of the hardcover print edition because I find that format very appealing for perusing whole chapters. Okay…if I’m honest you can already do that with the website. Really I’d just like to see the pretty leather-bound hardcover version on my bookshelf next to my King James version. And if the Skeptic’s Annotated Quran and Book of Mormon are ever released in hardcover (Wells has wepages for both of these books as part of the Skeptic’s Annotated series) I can have the whole set!

During the interview I was keeping an eye on the Facebook and Twitter because sometimes we’ll get comments or questions for the show through social media. I have to be careful because every once in a while I’ll see something during the show that almost makes me lose my shit on the air. Today was one of those whiles. From Facebook:

two-third cup
Image transcription, a screen cap from a Tumblr:

How Awesome is Our God?!! He even cares about the littlest things in our lives… I needed 2/3 cup of milk to make my recipe tonight… And this was all the milk in the carton… Exactly 2/3 cup… EXACTLY! I mean, EXACTLY!! Wow! God is GOOD!

[picture of a pyrex measuring cup filled with approximately 2/3 cup of milk]

[Response by] eltigrechico:

this actually makes sense.

people go ‘why does God let bad things happen?’

its because while some poor bastards are being herded into a mass grave somewhere God is busy making sure Kathy in Dunghole, Wisconsin has exactly the right amount of milk for her recipe.

you gotta pick your battles

My first thought was: POE. I found this screencap on a couple of different websites, and I started to dig in to try to find the source, but then I went, Fuck it! I’ve got better things to do on a Sunday! I know people who think like the OP (and not just on the internet, y’all. Just last week one of my coworkers told me that she had prayed to God the night prior that we’d have enough buffer to run our study. And praise Jesus, we did!), so let’s just go forward under the assumption that this is real, k?

So yeah…the response is spot on. If you’re going to say that god is responsible for all things in our lives, then go ahead – praise him for the good. But he also gets to answer for the bad shit. This is philosophy 101 – the Problem of Evil right? But  to praise god for the coincidence of having the right amount of milk for a recipe? That ain’t exactly some loaves and fishes-grade work going on. God phoned this one in.

I’m having a bit of trouble getting over the type of worldview that lets one’s mind wander to god for every little thing. It’s just…silly. It’s not like this woman offered up a muttered “Thank you, God” under her breath and kept making dinner. Nope, she was so moved and awed by the wonder of her heavenly father’s influence that she was compelled to stop working on her recipe, take a picture of the miraculous event and draft a status update on Facebook so she could share this blessing that God has bestowed upon her and her family.

It’s not just silly. It’s blind and privileged and unexamined and obsessed.

This is one of the reasons I’m glad for god-free spaces. We’re not always right, but at least gods are off the table when we talk about things like coincidence and confirmation bias.

BTW – one of my favorite responses to this post over on FB was “That’s no 2/3 cup. You need read the volume at the meniscus. Where’s your god now?”

Through God-Colored Glasses