ArchTeryx

Well, the Great Postdoc Chase of 2007-2008 is over. After three interviews (two of which were successful) and a whole lot of thought...

...I'm accepting the NIH position. Yep. Mr. Gryph really is going to Washington.

There's a lot of reasons why I decided this, but the most important one that to someone in my branch of the life sciences, the NIH is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I am not sure my body will hold up under the pressure and workload that an NIH scientist will impose, but if I try and fail, at least I can say I did my best, and I still have the NIH on my CV. Iowa-type postdocs are fairly common. NIH postdocs are exceedingly rare and precious.

So I'm going with the risky instead of the safe. The risky will bring rewards even in failure -- and if I succeed and get some good publications, the rewards will be huge. So I'm going to take my shot there, and if my body holds up, it could be the best decision I ever made.

And besides, the icing on the cake is indigoangelcat and jennies...both of which will be local to me, and both of which hosted me in one of the most delightful dinners I've ever had. Any city with these two wonderful folks, can't be all bad to live in. :)

I just finished writing the manuscript for my first first-author publication -- that is, a paper on a research project that I was the lead on, and wrote the draft for. It took me two months, but by StarWing, it's done.

Lots more to do on it -- finish the figures, finish the last experiments, revise it with my advisor, adjust it for the specific journal we submit it to -- but the worst of the work is done.

And oh, yeah: this also represents 1/4 of my dissertation as well. Keep moving forward!

Having an offer wonderfully simplifies things.

Instead of carefully beating around the bush, I can (politely) tell all those who are on the fence, "Hey, I have an offer and I need to decide on it in the next three months or so. But I still am interested in your lab. Want to set up an interview?"

And it's already paid dividends. I have an interview at the National Institutes of Health. Better yet, it was pitched as a competing offer -- he named a salary up front and mentioned all the reasons why an NIH postdoc is better then any other, while assuring me I needed to do what was best for me.

I'm in demand. This is a position I have never once had in my life; in the job market, I've been as good as surplus population, always. For the first time, I actually have two people that seem to both want me at the same time (and the NIH offer is awfully tempting on the numbers alone; at the last, it's a trip to Bethesda). And if I want a government job, the NIH is about the best place I could get a postdoc at, period.

Things are moving very fast now. Where this wild ride ends, I don't yet know, but for the first time...ever...I have choices. Let the chips fall where they may!

To make a long story short, it appears that the seal between the metal filler pipe and the tank has gone bad, far less serious then I originally anticipated. Long as I don't overfill the tank again it should be fine. Worst case: I take it back, have them drain the tank and replace the seal. Not cheap -- about $120 or so -- but not horrible either.

The weird thing was that the mechanic -- the person with a vested interest in selling me unnecessary repairs -- actually made the problem out to be LESS serious then it probably is, and said no repair at all was necessary.

Just overall a very weird situation, but at least alls' well that ended well.

"Trouble never comes in the form of single spies, but battalions."

And never more then when trouble comes to an old car, like my Pug.

After a delightful afternoon with my friend Roustabout, doing errands and going out to the Cheesecake Factory for lunch, we were returning to the car at my workplace and discovered...a...massive...pool...of...gasoline...behind...it.

The car was leaking fuel like fury out of the fuel line near the gas tank.

We got our distance and decided what to do. Roustabout, thank heavens, had Gold AAA. He called a tow and we managed to get the car back to Monro, which is right in back of my apartment building. Hopefully it won't catch fire overnight, but the fuel leak had slowed to a faint trickle by the time we dropped it there. I think it'll be okay tomorrow morning. I just hope that the repair isn't too expensive after the *last* two repairs hit.

*sigh* I can be self-pitying and wonder when this is going to end, but this could have been way, way, way worse, and thank StarWing once more for my flockmates. who once again saved my tailfeathers. Three cheers for Roustabout!

One of the sadder pieces of news that I received recently was the destruction of the world's last great "stripping shovel", The Silver Spade.

( What was the Spade, and it's fate? )

( An environmentalist, loving a strip mining machine?! )

It's the passing an era in the Rust Belt, and a very sad one. As Phil Collins once sang, "Showing no fear of what lies up ahead / they'll never see the likes of us again!"

(Edit: It was pointed out that such mining still does take place all through eastern OH and western PA, using machines that are hugely bigger then the Spade -- the walking draglines. And Marion still manufactures many such draglines, including some truly big ones. It brings a little comfort, but doesn't lessen the sadness at seeing the Spade die).

( Cut for minor spoilers. )

Overall, I would highly recommend the show, even at it's very expensive cost! Just spring for some "decent" seats, about midway up the arena, rather then the cheap seats far above.

(Aside: the reference is to a truly bizzare, 'quantum mechanics as a religion' cult film that was making the rounds a few years ago).

So what have I been doing in the odd five weeks since my last post?

Mostly, it breaks down to three things:

Dissertation research. Finishing up my last experiments and trying to get the analyses done.

Beginning the dissertation itself. This has temporarily taken second fiddle, but I have an outline in mind and this is going to make September very interesting. I have to get an outline approved, first by my advisor, then my committee, and then...writing begins in earnest.

The Big Kahuna: What happens to me post graduation? The facile answer: go get a postdoctoral position (sort of a poorly paid journeyman scientist; have DNA, will travel). But the decisions I have to make are monumental to me: the research topic I choose now may be the rest of my career, for example. I will likely have to move, sustaining huge expenses for which I have no savings. (Does the institution offer assistance with relocation?) I'll be leaving my home of 9 years, and all the friends and routines I've gotten used to; where do I want to end up?? I have to trade off risk of too low a salary for too high a cost of living in many areas; worth the risk or a literal dead end? Even though I have a system in place to begin this search, every time I look at the preliminary list of candidates, at my potential research topics, and at my future, the thought that overwhelmingly comes to mind...is the title of the post.

Right now, I could seriously use a hug.

(Health update: I still battle with colitis, as always, but the acupuncture, after several months' trial, seems to be keeping it within limits. It's not a perfect life, but it hugely beats what I was dealing with in Feburary and March this year).

...who just got married today.

Baby I've been searching like everybody else
Can't say nothing different about myself
Sometimes I'm an angel
And sometimes I'm cruel
And when it comes to love
I'm just another fool
Yes, I'll climb a mountain
I'm gonna swim the sea
There ain't no act of God girl
Could keep you safe from me
My arms are reaching out
Out across this canyon
I'm asking you to be my true companion
True companion
True companion

So don't you dare and try to walk away
I've got my heart set on our wedding day
I've got this vision of a girl in white
Made my decision that it's you allright
And when I take your hand
I'll watch my heart set sail
I'll take my trembling fingers
And I'll lift up your veil
Then I'll take you home
And with wild abandon
Make love to you just like a true companion
You are my true companion
I got a true companion
True companion

When the years have done irreparable harm
I can see us walking slowly arm in arm
Just like the couple on the corner do
'Cause girl I will always be in love with you
And when I look in your eyes
I'll still see that spark
Until the shadows fall
Until the room grows dark
Then when I leave this Earth
I'll be with the angels standin'
I'll be out there waiting for my true companion
Just for my true companion
True companion
True companion...

-- True Companion, Marc Cohn

May you have a wonderful life together, you two. You've earned it.

Just a quickie tonight. I managed to get the futon fixed today; the furniture store actually delivered a new part (the seat deck) and helped me install it. It cost $60, but it sure beat $350 for a new frame altogether.

And gileskat agreed to make good on reimbursement, the best news of all.

All is forgiven.

Without spoiling things too much, this film was five-star entertainment, and far less then the cost of a real haute cuisine meal!

The gist of the story: an unusual partnership formed between the garbage boy of Gusteau's, a three-star restaurant in Paris, and a marooned rat named Remy. Both have secrets. Remy's is that he wants nothing more desparately then to be a gourmet chef, having taught himself to read and living by the late Gusteau's motto, "Anyone can cook!". Linguini's is...well, that would be telling.

Things start a little slow, but pick up once Remy literally is swept away to the big city, and get seriously twisted in the second half. Wolfgang Putz (the chef de cuisine Skinner) has his own nefarious designs for Gusteau's, and as if that isn't enough, Anton Ego, aka "The Grim Eater" -- a vulture-like food critic straight out of a Lon Cheney movie -- is gunning for the restaurant. Linguini, with Remy literally at the helm, gets more and more in over his head, and when word of his "talent" spreads through Paris, Anton Ego decides that another visit is in order. To add yet more pressure, there's a love interest: the tough-as-steel Rotisseur chef Collette, who is put in charge of showing Linguini the basics. Between Collete, Ego, Skinner's schemes, and trying to keep Remy secret, what's a poor garbage boy to do?

You won't regret seeing this movie. It comes very close to being Pixar's very best work.

aquilla_light!

May you have many, many more, anam cara. (Yes, buh-hunny, you read that right. It was the least I could do on your hatchday, to call you by the name you so love).

Back around late May, our lab got one of its papers returned from the Journal of Virology. They liked it, but as often happens in science, they wanted additional experiments done.

I was assigned to one, and given a deadline of about 5-6 weeks to accomplish it. This sounds like alot of time, but in molecular biology, it's like trying to run a four-minute mile.

Well, four weeks later, after working seven day weeks and generally beating myself to a pulp (the source of some of my previous freakouts), I finally got the pieces together and did the pilot experiment. It worked brilliantly, the first time out.

Now I just have to put the figures featuring it together, and once that's done, I am clear to go on vacation. And I need one so very badly....

*goes limp*

eclipsegryph!

One of the classiest gryphons around. When he isn't getting chewed on by Clax. ;)

To tenaya_owlcat!

May you have many, many more, Red, surrounded always by your friends and loved ones.

I'm absolutely dog sick now.

Typically, before a flu-bug, I get depressed and burned out in the eariest stages. Guess what state of mind I was in early last week?

Least now I get some time away from the lab (whether I like it or not) and when I get out of this, I will be in far better mental shape to discuss my thesis with Dave.

But boy, I hate being sick. I may be a virologist, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it when they line up for personal introductions. :P

After a good 4 years on Live Journal, I'm conducting a "pruning" of my friends list, as of tonight. This is not meant as an insult or a reflection of bad feelings. I just need to condense my friends list down because of time and energy constraints.

My "core" friends...the ones that frequently respond to my journal entries...will remain. Many others will too. If you notice that you have been removed, but want to be reinstated, please give me a holler and I will do so without hesitation.

Actually got out and did something different tonight. Few things cheer the morale like just going out and changing the routine sometimes.

Not long ago, I found out that Jorge Cham, who is to graduate school what Scott Adams is to the corporate cubicle farm, was coming to speak here at OSU. His comic strip, Piled Higher and Deeper, can be hit and miss in it's humor but it's a marvelous sanity-holder for us lab rats.

What it didn't tell me was how truly funny a speaker he is.

The main theme of his talk was procrastination. He talked about famous procrastinators (Isaac Newton -- what *was* he doing under that tree? --and Isaac Asimov -- writing sci-fi stories instead of doing his graduate work -- were two examples) and the gist of the message was that while procrastination in the service of laziness was bad, procrastination in the service of distraction -- from the pressures of our labs, our work, and our lives -- could be a very good thing.

Check out of the comic sometime. Especially you, athelind. ;)

There's a little health update in this post, but I'm slowly weaning myself off colitis posts. For the best of reasons.

The flare, and subsequent injury, is healing at a phenomenal rate. The acupuncture continues to work and I am almost back to a normal diet. I even managed to work my first full day today. Things are always fragile, but I am better now then I've been since January.

But the main upate is what's been going on in my lab. It turns out the news there is all good; the experiments that I'd put in before the crisis hit are now yielding phenomenal results. Since I've gotten back, I've made my advisor literally jump for joy over the data I've gathered. He's giving a grant application a huge boost with it, and I'm putting together my first scientific poster (basically a 4 foot by 6 foot summary of a major project). With a few more experiments, I have the beginnings for what may be a huge first authorship -- and my ticket out of OSU.

A great way to hit the ground running. After being on "injured reserve" for so long, it feels so good to be back in the saddle...

Yeah, yet another colitis post. I'll be incredibly glad when I can go back to posting about other mundane things, like what latest thing is driving me insane in the lab.

After I was discharged from the hospital a little more then a week ago, I started having the same awful symptoms; blinding pain, nausea, inability to eat or drink more then the barest amount. The flare was gone, but the aftereffects were so harsh that I couldn't function or live my life. I found out what it truly meant to be "disabled" and it was a bleak, agonizing existance. I was about ready to just give up and throw in the towel, but my mother came up with an answer, one more thing to try...

...Acupuncture.

To make a long story short, my school has an integrative medicine center with an acupuncturist on staff; we got a doctor's referral and gave it a try in the middle of this week.

Within 48 hours, I had appetite again, the nausea was fading, the pain was down more then 50%, internal bleeding had slowed to the barest trickle. I managed to start going back to work for 2 hour stretches. Then I got another treatment. Appetite is almost back to normal (though I still have to be extremely careful what I eat and how much), pain is down about 60-70%, and I am getting a full night's sleep for the first time in months. I managed to turn in, only a couple of days late, an abstract (paragraph summary of research) for a local scientific meeting at the end of the month...something I couldn't have dreamed of during the previous hospitalizations.

I am still quite weak and still unable to eat or drink too much, still have almost no endurance. But I am functional again. Healing. Given time and care, I will regain my normal life bit by bit.

I have hope again.