This is my first drawing. I'm encouraged by the fact that people can recognize what the objects are so I think I'll try another. Ian and I went for a walk across the GW Bridge a few hours ago, waddling against the wind, layered in down, hunters' flap caps (we do not hunt though) and sunglasses. We ended up at the Fort Lee Historic Park in NJ and I picked up the subjects, hopefully, of my next sketch - seed pods that look like a cross between a cherry, a pinecone and a mace ball. They were familiar and I realized that I've seen drawings of these pods before so the idea is not new. This made me think how funny it is that we can enjoy "reinventing the wheel" in a way, in the most mundane ways, like drawing a picture, as if it has never been done before.

(those aren't grapes. they're just spheres)

I also saw that my old lab published their big paper. It makes me want to go back to school after this and get a doctorate in biology (I miss science). But I can't rule out the possibility that it would be, in part, for my ego.

The last day of semester 2 has just ended. I am relieved, tired and left a little limp...uninspired. I have never pushed myself so hard for the sake of truly learning something new in school. Maybe it is because I am older and borrowing so much money for my education. Or maybe it is the fact that we are not graded and so the real purpose of being a student is in no way undermined by other sources of motivation. Or maybe I am more mature. Probably all of the above. It occurs to me, too, that I am running out of time as I watch those I have known all my life grow older. For 2 decades they were the immortal Adults, but now as I find my gray hairs and realize my changing tastes, I see myself becoming them. I am the adult now and I realize I must hurry to know something substantive and do something memorable, even in my own little life.
I wonder if wisdom always will seem to arrive on a ten year delay.

I am still not sure if blogging feels natural. I appreciate good pens too much and am a terrible touch typist. The biggest reason though is that it requires a degree of exhibitionism I may not possess. When I do this I feel ike the tree that fells itself over and over again amongst deaf lumberjacks - did I make a sound? And I notice men have a great need to blog (this makes me think of a courting elephant seal flapping around his inflated nasal balloons for some reason).

i'm so tired.  2 more days to go.

bailey's gangster pose if she lived in london

How blogs are made

this is also a cool site for artsy-fartsy photos.

apparently i am "doing this wrong".

one of my favorite sites of cool science shtuff.

This is my first blog (or as Ian says I would pronounce it in my Buffalo-ese, blag). OK few rules to set up for myself: I can't bitch about anyone, should not write drunk and should not type at night because typos go up by twenty percent because I'm already an atroshious speller (just kidding, it's atrocious). I find I mispell certain words all the time, like variance and torture. hmmm...
In my early IM dating period with Ian, I typed with abandon and exposed my loose adherence to prescriptive linguistics. Oh how we laughed. I'm more of a descriptive linguistics kind of girl, but aren't we all?