A Scientist A Broad

As the world turns ... a lot!

2010-06-22T19:12:00.004+02:00

For once I'm writing while I'm not traveling.

Even though in the past 18 months I've uprooted my entire world and turned it on its head, topsy-turvy and willy-nilly, some things don't change. Almost two years later, I'm still a scientist (who'd a figgered?) and I'm still traveling all the time. My science is so much broader now, focused as it is at the moment on global synthesis rather than fundamentals, that I sometimes wonder if can be really called science. The travel is a reflection of that; I'm working in the trenches of renewable energy development and deployment, at the interfaces between the natural sciences, social sciences, policy and regulation, and global impacts. It's an amazing place to be, an amazing opportunity to have, and almost every day I'm overwhelmed by my good fortune of being in a position to contribute directly to saving the world. How cool is that?

Yes, I love my focused science and I do it when I can; it has not been jettisoned. But right now, at this moment in time, I'm where I'm needed, and so happy to be making a material contribution.

As an aside, I'm also really entertained by my last post before this one - I wonder if that could have been some sort of foreshadowing. Within days of that post I must have begun the preparations to move to, ahem, Cal.

Cal.

2008-08-31T11:49:00.002+02:00

There's a guy at the next table with a Cal T-shirt on -- not something I expect to see here. You see quite a few "I love NYxx" shirts, and some marketing shirts, but very few college shirts. This might the first I've seen.

I heard the Chile Peppers' 'Californication' while I was out running this morning, and it reminded me how homesick I really am. Also, how ... snobbish? Is it snobbish to know (hee!) that you come from the place that sets all the trends? That pushes back the frontiers of knowledge and technology and progress? I'm ready for this exile to end.

Aachen

2008-08-31T11:02:00.002+02:00

Aachen is one of my favorite places. Last week I went with colleague and we ran around having coffee and buying gifts. This week, I went and had coffee on the square, and gelato, and generally doing nothing in particular except reading and being. I'll have more to say about both trips later.

Weekly update.

2008-08-09T12:07:00.002+02:00

It is another beautiful day, wonderful to be outside and wandering. I made multiple trips down to the markt, rather than carrying everything around with me. Unfortunately, I was too impatient to wait at the florist, and when I returned, all of the sunflowers had gone. If they are not at the Tuesday markt, there will be no flowers for me this week. On the other hand, I got to the markt early enough (deliberately after an early run) to get the voll-korn croissants from my favorite baker. When the crowd before the Wein und Kaese cart clears (currently it is stacked two or three deep!) I will get cheese. Until then, coffee and waiting for them to find the internet passcode at Liebevoll (which, obviously happened).

My German is not progressing much, although I am more confident in using it. The language seems to be reawakening in me, but the time lag is prohibative. I'm a bit afraid that the only way I will get better at this point is by emersion. Which, I concede, is tempting. My "Americanness" is showing rather clearly, in ways I think I would not have noticed in the past* -- in the fact that I am the only person in the cafe with a computer out, and that computer is an Apple (a very definate status symbol, and one which embarrasses me a little -- I use it because it is, quite simply and without challenger, the best tool for the myriad of tasks I do), and I drink my coffee faster, I drink more water, and I'm fatter (conspicuous consumption, anyone?). I am also one of very few people I see "execising" outside -- when I run in the mornings, I seldom meet another runner (I was very excited to do so today!). At the moment, I rather feel that it is tatooed on my forehead.

The week has been busy and slow by turns. I think we're making real progress on the joint project, and am very much looking forward to the arrival of our experimental colleague next week. Hopefully by the end of this weekend, I'll have the first test cases running, any by the time she arrives, something to show her. The worst of the jet-lag seems to be subsiding (I have now slept through the night twice!), and I hope that my productivity increases correspondingly.

There have been some interesting fights on the project so far -- the biggest one about priorities and what should be included at what stage. Some of the 'purer' contributors are advocating for a more ... intellectual? picture, that is less focused on the experimental system and more on the model describing it. In the past few years, I have found myself more and more on the side of the experimentalists in believing that model is not intersting in and of itself, but rather in its relation to the system studied. This fight seemed to center on using the model to test limiting behavior (which _is_ important for validation) and then exploring all of the ramifications of the model's response. The project certainly could be taken that direction, but the resulting knowledge would be only narrowly interesting. I am hunting larger prey.

In the course of our discussion, I think that we did, finally, come to an understanding of the larger goals. The colleague here has come to the project much later, and did not understand the scope of our work. He seems now to be on the same page, but I suspect that his contribution will be only technical (which we need, I'm not impugning that). The group here has been very isolated, and it will take them some time to establish wider relationships. Part of that will be the development (or re-development) of a recognition that different work is also meritous. Their isolation has made them technically adept, but scientifically maldeveloped. In this age of truly inter-disciplinary research, that will prove fatal.

__________

*One benefit of the last few years -- probably the largest -- has been spending lots of time with a friend/colleague who _never_ lets me get away with "just is" responses and whose powers of observation are astounding. Because of our interaction, I pay far more attention to subtler details and implications.

Sunday morning reflections.

2008-08-03T12:03:00.005+02:00

Sitting outside at Liebevoll (of course!), I am drinking an excessive number of coffees and having breakfast. It is all very American of me, although I have not yet needed to resort to English! The quantity of coffee is the Americanism, more than anything else -- it is far more common here to have a single (small!) cup of very strong coffee than to have several cups of weaker coffee. I, naturally, am drinking several cups of very strong coffee, and if it weren't so expensive I would drink more! I also possess a little of the American puritanism and am a bit startled by the drinking of beer before noon. It is not uncommon, though, and, really, it does not seem to be destroying society in any way. Then again, this is also a place that legalized civil unions seven years ago (and whose population overwhelmingly supports fully legalizing gay marriage), also without destroying society, so perhaps they are on to something.

I am frequently struck by the more subtle cultural differences. The region is so much like the American midwest that it is disarming, and the language sounds very much like English to me, as do the people. But in the stores, the cultural differences become apparent. Things are grouped together using what seems to be an entirely different categorization scheme, and I find myself puzzling over it, trying to figure out the governing rule set. This is true for stores themselves, also, not just where they put things but what they have. My favorite are the stores that sell coffee and travel or cleaning supplies, and jeans (really? why?). Utterly baffling and strangely entertaining.

The morning is rather nautical, the sky made up many depths of translucent gray and intermittent sun. It is rather pretty, and sometimes very breezy. The wind has, in fact, just blown brötchen and napkins across the square, chased by yelps and laughter. I caught my screen guard only a few feet away -- I was lucky. The wind also sends organ music wafting in from the church. Very Gothic and atmospheric; religion with a dose of Hollywood horror (we just need Lon!). There is also a bird shrieking that sounds rather like a pterodactyl. The other sounds are supplied by a party upstairs at the Stadt Hotel -- lots of giggling and a recorder. Periodically gales a laughter drift down, and those of us sitting outside look up and smile at each other in response.

Church is letting out. Elderly couples slowly leaving the cathedral, and the beginnings of traffic on the square. It is still very quiet, though, sort of muted, especially now that the party upstairs seems to have dispersed. It is a morning that encourages reflection, and I am willing to sit and indulge.

And just on cue, heralded by the church bells pealing noon, the sun comes out.

On being right.

2008-08-03T10:35:00.000+02:00

I am struck, reading back through the three years of this blog, that every spring term has been bad. The first thing I say each time I return to the blog appears to be a variant of "I thought I was going to DIE." Which does reaffirm my decision, rather!

Saturday. The traditional markt post, and other random thoughts.

2008-08-02T11:23:00.001+02:00

I'm surprised at how much being back in Jülich feels like being home. I have even caught myself wondering if I could get a short-term (1 year?) appointment here, to wrap some of the more exciting work up.

Although the forecast had originally predicted rain, today is sunny, with a bright blue cartoon sky. Everything stands out in sharp relief against it. The umbrellas at Liebevoll leave geometric patters on the gold wood and green cushions. It is an altogether pleasant place to sit and drink coffee.

This trip is a little bittersweet. It's wonderful because the science I'll be doing and the colleagues with whom I'll be doing it are fabulous. And, of course, because I like the people and the markt here. This trip is even better, though, because the colleague with whom I had so many issue is no longer here. This frees all of us up to do some really exciting work. But the trip is also sad, because I suspect that it will be my last, as I will be leaving my current appointment in the fall.

Today's markt was quiet-ish when I arrived. That has changed rather dramatically now. But the flower stands have become a single stand (which may be just due to the fact that it's time for August holidays). Lots of bustle, and no time to catch up. I stood for awhile by the Wein und Kaese truck, feeling the breeze and letting the sounds wash over me. They are good sounds, accompanied by smiles and good wishes. I practice saying "Have a good weekend" as I take my purchases, and nod as I dodge the clusters of people talking with great animation.

Peter tells me that today's markt is for the kindern -- especially for those who do not have the opportunity to go on a real holiday. There are rides and lots more noise than I am used to. There are also police cars and firetrucks, with their accompanying officers, helping the children scramble around and find the siren. It is probably charming from a distance. But Peter will do a wine tasting later, which will be fun. And when there are less people crowded around the cheese truck, I will go taste cheeses for this week.

The apartment is well-stocked with utensils, so that I can do most of my own cooking. I did try to restrain myself at the produce stands, but I'll need to acquire more basics. One stand had a few figs (yay!), so I will check the market at the end of the street when I get tomatoes and onion, in the hopes that they will have more. I'll deal with lunches as they come, although I'm hoping to bring food rather than buy it at the casino. As much as I like the casino, it is very expensive, and my allowance will not go far. So, salads and bread-and-cheese(!). I don't have to sort it all out immediately (see, I'm growing!), since there is another markt on Tuesday, and I could always just run to the store (except on Sunday, grr).

Also, I have discovered that I do not recall essentially any of my German, and failed to bring my phrase books. I can work on the language itself, but I can't get the easy questions right now. I'll try to find one on-line to download and use (if I could find a audio one, too, that would be great).... Once again, the Mac comes to my rescue. I've found a couple of audio files on iTunes that may do what I need. And since it's only an hour, I can write them down. Worth a try!

I have an invitation for Caffe und Kuchen this afternoon. And I had to turn down another invitation because it conflicted with the first. So exciting -- almost like belonging.

Not dead.

2008-08-01T17:00:00.000+02:00

Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's been a year. Most of my travel in that period has been domestic, so you don't get updates.

But now I'm back in Germany, and you get updates again. Hopefully I'll be other places, too!

Saturday Farewell

2007-06-23T11:38:00.000+02:00

Well, since it's traditional to post from the Saturday Markt, I'd better not skip it. Especially since it is probably my last for some time. So, the markt.

I got here early today, because I have lots of errands to do, including closing up at the institute. The stillness fit my melancholic mood, and I wandered through quietly, stopping to take my farewell from the people who have been so kind and welcoming over the past year.

I got a wonderful whole grain croissant from the baker -- clearly somebody other than me loves them, too, because if I don't get them first thing, they are all gone! -- and a couple of figs from the produce stand, and then had a little bit of cheese from my favorite stall -- the cheesemonger. As I look over now, their new van is busy, people crowding in to spend lots of
money on cheese that is completely worth it. Of all the things I will miss, and there are many, that van and its proprietors is the biggest.

When I rode past the pond on the way to the markt this morning, all the ducks were dozing around it, their little chests puffed out provocatively. It was all idyllic and charming, and even as I had the thought, I saw two crows disemboweling a starling for lunch. It was all very German -- forced practicality among the scenery. It was an interesting start to the day -- and I decided that I would not be eating my breakfast at the pond!

I walked around the markt square, got water, visited the Zitadel, and then had my breakfast (amazing cheese, croissant, and figs) sitting on the old stone wall of the castle. And then, in honor of tradition, I'm having a cup of coffee at Liebevoll (the other thing that I will sigh for!), and writing. The markt has gotten busier, and its sounds in the breeze are a nice backdrop, reminding me that, as frustrated as I am by the scientific aspects of this trip, there are wonderful things here that I have enjoyed.

I really will miss this place.

Collaborating

2007-06-23T11:30:00.000+02:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the nature of scientific collaborations; about what makes them work, or not work, and about the personal components that can make or break a partnership. Scientists are, by and large, a little weak on interpersonal skills (to be kind). This last week has shown me that the current collaboration isn't going to work. I am frustrated beyond words by the inability of one member (another PI) to recognize the importance (or even validity) of work outside his narrow field, and infuriated by the inherent selfishness shown by the fact that his only question is always a variation of "what's in it for me?" (and his apparent belief that I work for him) -- to the extent that I am now having trouble being polite. As much as I wanted this to work, I'm having to accept that it's time to cut my losses and get out. As much as we want everything to be about the work, about the science alone, the truth is that sometimes it can't be.

I think that we are also a more judgmental community as a whole. If a particular PI doesn't work to our standards, everything they do becomes questionable. This is an essential component to science, because one's work must be above reproach at all times -- we function on integrity, and when someone violates that, they undermine the entire community. This is why infractions are treated so severely. But there are more mild infractions, those of being a little sloppy, and being a little unclear, or being a little too focused. We respond to those in various ways, and as time goes by I find that I am less and less forgiving of them; I feel that such infractions make it harder for the rest of the community, and hamper forward progress. I don't want my name affiliated with such work.

There is also a gendered component. I find that I am far less selfish in my approach to our projects than are my male collaborators, and that I am the one most likely to have done a thorough literature search, and to be most careful about ensuring that the work of other groups is fairly discussed and cited. I have noticed this in discussions with broader groups, too, with other women scientists, who say that they have noticed the same thing.

This might seem petty, but it is important. Our work, indeed, the work of all scientists in the modern age, is founded on the work of others, and it is imperative that we acknowledge that. When an author fails to do so they misrepresent their own work, and that, to me, is a violation of academic integrity. I don't need to work with people who do things like that, and I find that if they show signs of this, they will have other practices I find questionable also. Maybe it's because science is the closest thing I have to religion, but I find it blasphemous.

On the plus side, I have gotten some benefits out of the collaboration, including access to some phenomenal resources, and introduction to some other early-career scientists with whom I continue to develop relationships.

Father's Day

2007-06-17T13:00:00.001+02:00

I am one of those disgusting people who is blessed with wonderful parents, and is able to call them friends. They've supported me in everything I do, and had my back at all times (you go, Mom!). I try not to brag too much about them, because it's all luck, really. But today is a day for some bragging.

It is a beautiful day for Father's Day, pleasant and non-raining (!), and the square is quiet, the breeze carrying the voices away. I am natually reminded of last summer, when I persuaded my father to join me abroad for a week. We rode around town on bikes, and went to the markt, and sat out at the cafe drinking beer and talking with friends. And we traveled -- took the ICE, and saw castle in Heidelberg, and did the various touristy things. It was wonderful, and I am, as always, awed and grateful that I have the relationship with my Dad that allows that.

I cannot think of a time when I've called my Dad "Father" -- it's always Dad, Daddy, or Pop, the latter arising from a long tradition of stuffed animals given to me "From Pop" which are now called "Pop Gifts" and required for every holiday. When I die, it will take months to go through the fuzzy things. From skipping the beginning of grade school on random mornigs to go have waffles with strawberries and whipped cream together, to watching "Real Genius" (he can recite all the lines, too, as can my Mom, which is a bit scary when you think about it), to museum hopping in various towns, to wandering around Germany, I have a montage of times with my Dad that I wouldn't trade for anything. His belief in me and support of me in everything I do has made it possible for me to become the person I am, and it is possible that I'm the luckiest person on earth.

Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

The Markt Post, mark 5? 6? Who knows.

2007-06-16T10:22:00.000+02:00

I don't know what it is about the Saturday markt, but it always inspires me to write. And I knew, after the hell that was spring term, it was going to take something special to get me going again.

Today has been special: a man, in tux and tophat, with a hand-organ, singing appallingly traditional songs. Oooh! and now one of the vendors is whistling along -- well -- and several people are walking around singing along! It's like a bad Hollywood musical of Germany, but with good coffee and sincerity! You can't make this stuff up.

Sometimes I really love Germany.

Hmph

2007-03-04T19:49:00.000+01:00

This is the term from hell.

That is all.

Damn it.

2007-02-19T16:19:00.000+01:00

It's been a month, and while the beginning of the semester was good, the only thing I can say right now is that I hate everything except research. If I were getting time to do any, I might be a happier person; as it is, I'm just crabby, angry, and sad.

I need to learn to stick to my schedule, and do all the things that are important. I was doing so well with that, and then teaching started to swell up appallingly, and the giant, scaly, oozing departmental service monster caught my ankle. And, for some strange reason, I started to care that I was single.

I keep looking at the "publish" button at the bottom of the post composition window, and it makes we want to cry. Not a good start to the week.

It's like sending postcards: wish you were here!

2007-01-14T22:01:00.000+01:00

I just got back from dinner with some colleagues, and am back in Leibevoll -- and it's the traditional late Sunday night, just the staff (and, of course, me). Some modern German music (I'm alarmed by how frequently the music is bad american pop!), much of it cabaret.

Oh, and spiked coffee. I'm pretty damn happy. I'm running insanely large jobs on the supercomputer, writing code, and drinking really good cofffee in an empty bar at night. Damn, doesn't get much better! Well, other than the fact that I have to go back to my other world tomorrow.

But in the interim, I've got Leibevoll.

The Markt Post, and an update.

2007-01-13T12:01:00.000+01:00

It's sort of traditional for me to post from Leibevoll during the Saturday markt. So, here it is, as I sit inside with a lovely cup of coffee and a tasty breakfast, and watch the village go by.

The weather is very different this trip -- dark and windy, and sometimes cold. There is nobody sitting outside, though the tables and benches are still lined up, their umbrellas all furled and bound, sharp green against the gray sky. I'm glad to be here; the coffee tastes even better than before because of the weather, and the village community is delightful to walk around in. The people-watching is a little restricted, though, and the markt is much smaller. All of the carts and trucks have plastic shields that jut out, like fins, in frankly futile attempts to block the wind and rain.

My cheesemonger is here, and is as wonderful as before. I've collected some cheese to bring home as lunch (hopefully it'll make it all the way), including an extremely strong Irish cheese that tastes sharp and smells terrible. I will not open it on the plane! And today the baker had my favorite croissants, made with whole-grain flour and studded with seeds. I bought some strawberries -- out of season, I know -- and some Delice de Bourgone to eat on them. Also some wonderful apples. I will get some figs (winter figs, not as delectable as the summer ones, but still great) and tomatoes at the store up the road shortly. The oranges have been like eating sunshine, and I bought -- for the ridiculous price of 1,70€ -- a baby pineapple, that has been sitting on my desk and smelling like sin. I've resisted eating it, because I keep taking little breaks and picking it up to sniff.

Being back at the research center has been great, although I was dreading it. I'd forgotten how truly wonderful it is to be able to focus exclusively on research, and be surrounded by people who are intimately familiar with the architecture and the tools on hand. It makes it easy to work all the time, to put the hours in and make progress. I love working like this, at maximum intensity, but I can't maintain the schedule -- 22 hours, then a nap and keep going -- so last night I had to sleep (I was making silly errors). Unfortunately, every time I give in and sleep, something happens on the supercomputer and my jobs die, or fail to launch cleanly, or both. After three days of losing work to the file system from hell (n.b.: GPFS sucks rocks!), it finally stabilized in time for a huge storm, during which I lost network access (I knew I should have stayed in the office and not caught a ride!) -- so I took a nap, and it killed the job for no apparent reason (I still need to contact the sysadmins about that). Then last night, I had to sleep, and the script _they_ provide to check the status of a partition between submissions failed to execute, launched abevyy of error messages, and aborted the entire job script. I think that I'm not allowed to sleep again until I'm done. And god only knows what it's going to do when I'm on the plane!

The research center has provided me a bike again, tragically the same one as before -- next time I'm telling them I need a different one! The damn thing hasn't improved: true to form, it allows its light to work only sporadically, lighting the trees above the road those times it does work. I've begged rides back to the hotel at night a couple of times, and stayed in the office a few times, but I like the hotel better when their network is working well. I'm getting a kick out of staying at the Hotel attached to Leibevoll (it seems so fitting), and they are taking very good care of me. They pay a remarkable amountoff attention to how I leave things, or set things out, and the other day, I came back for a nap and they had rearranged the shelves in the closet to better fit the way I had things set up. And they bring me a plate without meat for breakfast (although it is sadly lacking in fruit or vegetables!). The best part of catching a ride back, though, isn't the hotel, it is getting to walk in the next morning -- it takes on a bit longer than catching the train, but is pretty, and I can listen to my ipod, sort of a soundtrack for the countryside.

I've been enjoying the brisk wind and sharp light; it feels like the best fall days in Chicago, when it adds a boost of energy and invigorates my brain. People tell me, though, that this winter is much, much milder than usual, and that they are concerned. Predictions for this summer are apparently already for one hotter than last year, which was unusually warm, warmer even than the year before that, in which there were a record number of deaths on the European continent. The sense is starting to move past concerned into downright scared. There is not sufficient infrastructure in place to deal with a repeat of that summer.

We fought a winning battle against the depletion of the ozone layer -- we need to step up and do the same thing now, before it's too late. The signs are all here.

Baby steps

2006-12-29T16:03:00.000+01:00

Now that I've been away for a few days, I'm starting to be able to work again. This is good, although I worry that it will be too little, too late. But I'm getting things done, and I'm going to focus on that.

So, status:
Project I (CC): 70% and holding
Project II (GC-mf): 50% and moving
Project III (GC2-sc): 2%
Project IV (CoC): 30% and holding
Project V (MC-UG): 2% and moving
Project VI (CC-UG): 2% and moving

Proposal I: 5% and holding (Due Mar 2007)
Proposal II: 0% and holding

Current activity: Project II (GC)

These are just the research parts of each project -- after this comes the writing. And the proposal writing, and course preparation. And general panic. But for now, Project II is moving!

Internecine Squabbling, and Days Off

2006-12-26T15:33:00.000+01:00

I'm starting to learn how to rest -- although I attribute this mostly to having caught a ridiculous cold, which means that I can't do much of anything (even read trashy novels) for more than a couple of minutes. But getting some time to let my brain recover isn't a bad thing. So, for the last three days I've done pretty much nothing (other than some cooking -- reintroducing vegetables to my family). The fourth day I spent travelling, and there's really no way to make that restful, particularly given that it came on the heels of The Day From Hell, which brings me to the next part of my story.

The culmination of all of my hours and hours of service, of the sacrifice of my time for the greater good of the department, has been simply the realization that I will never be able to get tenure in my current department. I suppose that it's good that I learned this now, rather than later, but it is a thorougly demoralizing realization. I'm not sure that I wanted to stay there (in fact, I think I'd been leaning heavily the other way), but I did think that the decision would be mine, that my "colleagues" would respect the impact of my work. I no longer think so.

I work in a traditional subdiscipline, although one which is extremely underrepresented at my current institution, and in the course of the rather heated discussion the reasons for the imbalance became very clear. It is underrepresented because the faculty as a whole do not understand it, and they -- out of what I can only assume is a misguided attempt to salvage some self-respect -- dismiss anything they do not understand (and this is a large, and established, area of science). Since they do not value it, they do not nurture it, and the rash of departures of my predecessors is easily explained. In addition to not nurturing it, they actively ridicule and belittle it, and while I can comfort myself a little by reflecting on how backwards and, well, dumb, this makes them look, the fact is that they have the power here to block my tenure appointment, regardless of the caliber of my work. This is not a cheering realization. It also makes it harder to get up every day and work overwhelming hours, because while I love the work, it's very hard to exist in a vacuum.

In the midst of what must rate as one of the more fraught faculty meetings ever, I am very proud of my handling of the situtation. I did not come out and call anyone stupid (although it was a close thing), and I did manage to convey that I was unimpressed. And, I suppose most importantly, I was able to remain professional in the face of some really awful comments. I threw my tantrum after the meeting, not during. I've asked myself repeatedly in the days following whether this was wise, or whether I should have made the strength of my feelings more clear. But on the whole, I think I did very well by staying calm. And probably won more support from other corners by doing so -- which will help me when I look for jobs next year, a course of action I now see as ineveitable.

This means that my days of departmental service are over. I will not be the go-to-girl anymore, not for anything, because I can't take it with me. I will sacrifice everything for my research -- service and teaching -- because I need to be looking out for myself, since my department isn't looking out for me. I guess this makes me a maverick, once again. I think this is sad, since I was getting ready to settle down with the rest of the herd, but it's back to what I do best.

Service

2006-12-14T02:33:00.000+01:00

I'm drowning in departmental service right now. It's never-ending.

The saddest part of that is that it won't do me any good for tenure. As one of the few women in my department, I tend to wind up doing more committee work than other people. I think this is due mostly to my difficulty in saying no to things. I have trouble not doing something that I know I can do better than others.

But, my contract is supposedly 60% research, 40% teaching. No service listed there. The word on the street is that service is a maximum of about 10% for tenure. My read on the situation is that the 10% comes out of the teaching side. So that is not going to help me. The research will help me, but how do I find time to do it? I'm so busy putting out fires that there's very little time to set aside for anything else. This frustrates me -- all these great ideas, just going to waste (or flying off to be had by somebody other than me!).

A friend told me awhile back that we had 6 years for tenure so that we had time to learn how to schedule; she might be right. But what I need to learn is how to say "no!" and stick to it.

Yippieeee!

2006-12-11T02:47:00.000+01:00

I have a new student in my group! A smart, motivated, sassy young woman who will fit right in. I'm so excited.

Job searches suck from either side!

2006-12-08T02:08:00.000+01:00

This is the great realization from this week.

A few years ago, when I was on the market, I lamented at length the strenuousness of the process. Putting together a strong application packet is a lot of work -- and it should be. Good proposals are not just hard to come up with, they are hard to write. Cover letters are some sort of black magic. And then, there's the interview circuit. The overwhelming feeling of being under a microscope at all times, of giving the same talks over and over again and suddenly drowning in deja vue. And after all of that, the petty negotiating over startup costs, and finally the my-god-what-have-I-done panic.

Now, a bit down the road, I'm the associate chair on our current search committee, and we're filling multiple positions. I've read nearly 150 applications in the last weeks, and I thought that was hard. It turns out, coping (as a committee leader, and our subdiscipline head) with the interviewing is even worse. I haven't had time to do my own research in weeks (although there was an amazingly blissful interlude recently, see below).

I learned an amazing amount about the process, and some of the things I believed as I went through as a candidate have been validated, others not. The biggest thing I've learned is that the cover letter is the single most important part of the packet -- because in a field of 150, you have to make the first cut, and if the cover letter doesn't scream "this is a great, detailed, careful, insightful, and brilliant person," I'm going on to the next candidate. My time is too valuable, too over-committed right now, to spend on anyone who can't make a good first impression.

But now, the interviews have started. Wow, the hours of shepherding from meeting to meeting, of checking and rechecking itenaries, of browbeating lazier (or, conceivably, savier) other faculty into signing up, of holding one's breath, waiting for the goofball member to say something either stupid or offensive (usually the latter, or a combination of the two). And the candidates -- some are as good as their packets suggested. Others -- Oh. My. God. Some hints -- don't contradict members of the faculty during your proposal talk, especially if you have to say "I've been doing X for several years now" (as though that'll clinch it) to somebody who can (and will) reply "Well, I've been doing it for 25." You lose that one, no matter what. Oh, and don't get drunk. If you can't hold your alcohol, don't drink it.

I can't wait for this to be over. I especially can't wait for it to be over and to have landed a couple of really spectacular new faculty members! If I live that long. Sheesh.

The whirlwind, redeux

2006-11-22T18:29:00.000+01:00

I'm learning quite a bit about what productivity is -- and what it is not. More particularly, I'm starting to grasp on a much deeper level what it takes for me, personally, to be productive. And here is the alarming part of that realization: it involves giving up on the classical idea of mental health. I need the almost manic phases to see the patterns with clarity, and to own them. This thing that I've seen so long as a weakness may actually be one of my biggest strengths, also.

I'm most productive, not surprisingly, when I can just ignore everyone and everything else and work at high intensity non-stop, and (this is the surprising part) when I take time to do absolutely nothing. I need both the peaks and the valleys to truly function. "Healthy" doesn't mean the same thing for me as it does for "normal"* people. So I'll take my neuroses and be over there, working, thank you very much.

Now that I've learned this about myself, I'm finding it far easier to get work done. I'm still not as good at getting projects finished as I'd like: I have lots of great ideas, and little nuclei of projects, but shepherding them through to completion can be difficult for me. I prefer to hand them off to the students and start something else. Unfortunately, the ability to finish a project is one of the things that develops in graduate school, so I still need to be good about the finishing part, tragically.

I spent the last ... three? ... weeks in a flurry of activity. I'm pretty sure that I've stored up all of the departmental service I need for the next three years, at least. And at very high intensity, too. And then, I headed off (yes, away from home, again) to meet with collaborators and work at my alternate institution, where the real importance of completion finally hit me. And I hit back. It's been a great few days of pure research -- of working 18 hours straight, napping on the couch in the office, and getting up to keep going. And it's been productive. Normal and healthy be damned! I am back, baabee.

And now, I'm going to try and survive Thanksgiving with my family, in a town that would be charming if it weren't so suburban, sitting on an ocean that I love, avoiding all topics of conversations that I truly care about. Family is the best (well, after cats) because they have to love you anyway -- but it's a bitch to remember.

*Assuming that such a thing actually exists.

The OED brings me joy

2006-09-27T03:29:00.000+02:00

So thinginess (ns), the quality of being thingy; (a) reality, actuality, objectivity; (b) devotion to things, practical or matter-of-fact character.

The whirlwind

2006-09-27T00:15:00.000+02:00

Nearly a month of silence! Sorry, and all.

I've been back from Europe for almost a month, and had only one trip so far. Tomorrow I leave for yet another mutli-city tour. Because traveling all the time is fun. Uh huh.

It's been a bit disconcerting back here. I feel, if possible, even more alien than before. Everything around me seems to be moving so slowly and I find myself feeling disconnected from real time. The readjustment is proving much harder than I'd anticipated (three months is very different from three weeks; who knew). My students are struggling some with it, as well.

But tomorrow I get to go meet with collaborators, and do nothing but research for a week (all those other responsibilities? A pain in my ass!).

Oh, and it's great to see the cats!

Because Simon and Garfunkel always say it best

2006-08-31T18:16:00.000+02:00

I'm sittin in the railway station
Got a ticket for my destination
On a tour of one night stands
My suitcase and guitar in hand
And every stop is neatly planned
For a poet and a one man band

Homeward bound
I wish I was
Homeward bound
Home, where my thoughts escaping
Home, where my musics playing
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me

Everydays an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines
And each town looks the same to me
The movies and the factories
And every strangers face I see
Reminds me that I long to be

Homeward bound
I wish I was
Homeward bound
Home, where my thoughts escaping
Home, where my musics playing
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me

Tonight I'll sing my songs again
I'll play the game and pretend
But all my words come back to me
In shades of mediocrity
Like emptyness in harmony
I need someone to comfort me

Homeward bound
I wish I was
Homeward bound
Home, where my thoughts escaping
Home, where my musics playing
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me
Silently for me
Silently for me

And now I am! See you all soon.

2006-08-28T15:57:00.000+02:00

And the rain it raineth every day.

Because I feel like it

2006-08-24T19:33:00.000+02:00

I've got builds running on two architectures, all of my jobs on the supercomputer have been queued for 10 hours, my beowulf cluster appears to be eating itself, and I made the mistake of reading some old emails from somebody I adore (but who doesn't adore me quite the same way). All of which means that I'm having a dumb day, and want to do something else.

So, I'm going to play in the quote meme -- go here and pick five of 'em that reflect what I believe or who I think I am. You guys can play, too, if you're similarly afflicted today. Here are mine (I tried to pick only five, really!):

What I believe

Today's public figures can no longer write their own speeches or books, and there is some evidence that they can't read them either. Gore Vidal (1925 - )
When you helped somebody, right away you were responsible for that person. And things always followed for which you were never prepared. Martha Brooks, True Confessions of a Heartless Girl
(I wish I didn't believe this, but somehow, I seem to fall into it all the damn time)

Who I "am"

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting. e e cummings (1894 - 1962)
(Judging by recent representations of strong women in the media, this is more than ever a problem)

Real freedom lies in wildness, not in civilization. Charles Lindbergh (1902 - 1974)
(I prefer to interpret this metphorically, although I often believe in it literally.)

The fact that a believer is happier than a skeptic is no more to the point than the fact that a drunken man is happier than a sober one. George Bernard Shaw (1856 - 1950)

And the crowning glory, the one that I need to remember and take to heart:

Beware of dissipating your powers; strive constantly to concentrate them.
Genius thinks it can do whatever it sees others doing, but is sure to repent
of every ill-judged outlay.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749 - 1832)

Because everyone should start their day in tears

2006-08-24T12:26:00.000+02:00

A relative of yesterday's rant:
more about how successful women are bad

which led me into deep and sad territory:
Scheherazade on being alpha in relationships
Megan on being alpha in groups

It's nice to know I'm not alone. I guess.

*Initiated by my morning read of Unfogged.

How dare she.

2006-08-23T14:30:00.000+02:00

The Today Show this morning had a piece on how it is dangerous -- dangerous! -- to empower girls, lead by a woman, who said, essentially, that girls should be feminine, and that powergirls are unhealthy. Well, FUCK HER. She can go crawl back into her little June Cleaver apron and straight into traffic.

If she wants to go be little SAHM, she can do that, but how dare she preach depriving other girls, girls who might see themselves as more than just a man's accessory, of the right to make their own decisions. BITCH.

I feel slightly better now.

Call the exterminator

2006-08-21T21:08:00.000+02:00

because I give up.

12 hours --straight -- of debugging, to determine that there seems to be a problem with one of the nodes's communication. Of course, it's not resolved. Oh, but it is dark out. Wait, I love my job, right?

I might be an idiot savant. Or just the former.

2006-08-21T11:33:00.000+02:00

So, it turns out that I've been going about my new builds all wrong. I used the wrong profile and snapshot, and wasted days. But I inadvertantly got x working right on my system, and got the frequency scaling up, too. My code isn't working right at the moment -- it'll run in the foreground, but if I background it the job just hangs. But only for spaces of more than 1000 points. Bite me. But I'm sure that this will inadvertantly lead to an important breakthrough in our treatment of the system. Really.

Oh, and it took me an hour and twenty minutes to get "home" last night -- when I left (it wasn't even 10pm yet! so much for summer), it was too dark to see the path at all. I went around the front of Institute, to ask if they had anything like a flashlight, or an extra light or anything (it is an institute bike, after all). No, but what the do have, most helpfully, is a little flyer explaining in multiple languages that bikes without lights are not permitted to be ridden on the campus at night, and you must push the bike. So I went back and took the main road -- or tried to. I took lots of wrong turns, and naturally it was a dark and stormy night. But I saw a hedgehog, which was very cool and made me want to play croquet.

Damn.

2006-08-20T21:45:00.000+02:00

My code is not working, and I'm going home pissed off. In the dark.

It's gone!

2006-08-20T14:06:00.000+02:00

My delightful, fabulous, spiky espresso machine is no longer in its shop window. I hope that whoever has it is giving it a good home. The bastards.

Wow.

2006-08-18T10:07:00.000+02:00

Dooce is one of the great treasures of the internet age, a stunning example of why people blog, and what it can mean to others. I find Dooce often amazing, and frequently breathtaking. She has her current post up at Alpha Mom*, and she can still me in the first paragraph. It's worth a read:
Dooce on 'The Ghost in the House'.

*Now, it's true, I will not be reproducing. So, why, you might ask, would I read Alpha Mom? For Dooce, of course. A measure of my true love of Dooce: I will endure children for her!

Safe

2006-08-17T23:09:00.000+02:00

The most important thing that happened today: my cousin made it home safely.

A new look

2006-08-16T21:50:00.000+02:00

I've been spending a truly ridiculous amount of time playing with the look of the site (hmm, procrastination, anyone?). Maybe it'll work, maybe it won't, but bear with me, please. And feel free to give input.

Update: Well, after truly appalling amounts of time squandered, I'm pretty happy. Lots of things I'd like to do, but they aren't happening now.

Not quite what I meant

2006-08-12T11:52:00.000+02:00

I've been thinking some about my last post. I didn't mean to imply that my friends -- who are wonderful and understanding -- didn't understand, deal with, face depression also. Many of them do; many of them fight much harder than do I. And they forgive me for my absences, they understand and worry without pushing, and they provide strength that I could not do without. Depression is a funny thing, and it has a suprisingly high cost, both for the sufferer and for their family and friends. The people who understand -- either because they face it, or because they are sensitive to it -- and who stay anyway are valuable beyond price. For some of them, it will be my turn tomorrow, or was yesterday, for others perhaps not, but we all make each other stronger. To have people to that I know I can call and who will welcome me when I say "I can't be alone" is an amazing gift.

My cousin knows first-hand how dark the world can get, and what it takes to fight back from an overwhelming disease, and how that changes a person. It's not the same disease that I fight, but his knowledge means that I never need to feel ashamed about what I'm fighting and how I'm fighting it. I might piss him off (I often do, I'm sure), but he knows where it comes from. He and his wife and family have provided shelter from a storm when I couldn't get to anything else, and they have done it with love and kindness. I am luckier than words can ever express.

Homecoming

2006-08-09T13:57:00.000+02:00

My cousin is scheduled to be coming home from the war in the next week or so. I am very glad about this. Even though, as with the rest of my family, I agree with him about almost nothing political, I love him very much, and so much want him to be safe. He is one of the few people, his wife another, who can understand what I've been going through, and they are a large part of why I made it through the winter. He's also one of the reasons I choose not to discuss issues relating to the "War on Terror," and I don't see that decision changing here anytime soon. He's smart and honorable and strong and very, very dear.

It's been an extremely hard year for most of our family, for a variety of reasons, and having one part of it settled, even if for a little while, will be nice.

So, come home safe, and we love you. We've missed you.

Whee

2006-08-07T10:57:00.000+02:00

Because I have nothing better to do (uh, yeah, right):

Your Geek Profile:

Academic Geekiness: High
Geekiness in Love: Moderate
General Geekiness: Moderate
Internet Geekiness: Moderate
Fashion Geekiness: Low
Movie Geekiness: Low
Music Geekiness: Low
SciFi Geekiness: Low
Gamer Geekiness: None

How Geeky Are You?

Now, I think it's a little more conservative in its estimate of my geekiness (I mean, I'm only slightly less geeky than Fred, or possibly more!), but still fun.

Carnie-markt

2006-08-05T12:27:00.000+02:00

Apparently today is a special markt day -- there are a few carnie rides blaring very bad German pop music and several fire engines open for the children to climb about. It is louder and more crowded than the normal market, most of the small dogs replaced by small children; I, of course, prefer the former. Even so, the marketing was fast and easy today, and almost none of it was conducted in English, of which I am rather proud.

Everyone has asked about Dad. The master baker (the English-speaking one) came over as I was finishing with his colleague to ask if he had gone home, and said how nice he had been. The cheese-monger spoke at length about how wonderful last weekend had been, how much he had enjoyed talking to Dad -- he used the word "awesome."

I feel a little more alone now that Dad has been and gone, and seeing a familiar face smiling is a welcome relief. The baker's assistant's very careful recitation of my bill in English she had clearly been practicing, just for me, and the cheese-monger's assistant's grin when I greeted her in German are little puffs of recognition, moments where I am not invisible. I have started my Intensive German course (just once class so far), and while I wish it had started right when I got here, I'm very pleased. It felt good to walk into the classroom, and see other people I could talk to (not just work people) -- in addition to becoming less invisible.

One of the very neat things Dad and I saw in Maastricht* was the roaming coffee (and beer). We happened to be there on Markt Day, so the Rathaus square was full -- I do mean full -- of stands. Dad described it as like the Swap Meet where they live, and he didn't seem to be far wrong; it was a zoo -- probably 10 times larger than the one here. The square there, as everywhere, is ringed by cafes and bars, and from these servers with loaded drinks trays would sally forth into the market. I mention this because outside, all of the police (older men, probably retired officers, as are the firemen with the engine) are standing about with cups and saucers from Leibervoll. In this respect, people here have their priorities right! (However, if I hear another scientist count the hours they work -- so that they can figure out how much extra time off is guaranteed by their contract -- I will start taunting.)

There are more ominous clouds blowing in among generally overcast sky, but for now I can sit outside and listen to the clamor. It's a nice scene -- I there should be a car chase soon! Sadly, that didn't last long -- it started sprinkling almost at once. So, because I have the computer, I had to retreat inside Leibervoll, even though it's raining seldom and very little. The amount of rain is astounding. I sort of expect everything to just wash away, but it doesn't. If this is the price for green, they can keep it.

As one of the more expected ironies, the sun has been flicking out, briefly very bright, while I sit inside. With the computer, of course, I cannot risk it, so I will pack up to go outside and wander instead; and ask the baker to bring me some seeded croissants for next week. Have a good Saturday.

*It's also the only place that I have seen a real pastry since my arrival -- wonderful.
The bread here has been great, but the pastries not so much.

The Yellow Brick Road

2006-08-04T21:00:00.000+02:00

I'm finally back from my travels, and really, I promise that there will be an update about the trips soon!
Summary:
Maastrict = awesome;
Aachen = best espresso machine ever;
Heidleberg = okay;
Frankfurt = awesome;
Frankfurt Ironman = even awesomer;
Darmstadt = enh, but with a giant chess board;
Koln = cool;
science = tres cool.

There have been some very good conversations and lots of good ideas. Hopefully I'll be able to get some of them onto paper and then to the funding agencies (oh yes, that part will be so fun!). Not sure whether I'm behind the curtain or not, but we'll see.

The Scientific Graveyard

2006-07-20T10:26:00.000+02:00

I think it's time for a new publication, one in which we can document the things that don't work! In the "good old days" negative results were reported along with positive ones, because they do contain important information that other researchers need. But now, in this day of cut-throat competition for funding and prestige, the negative results get swept under the carpet, unmentioned, becoming the rocks upon which research careers run aground.

The other day in journal group this came up. People have been trying for years to develop and tune force fields for simulations, particularly for protein folding (ick, for the record), and we know by word-of-mouth that X tried something that didn't really work, and Y was talking about trying some sort of approach like W. But we don't know any more, and the lack of publications suggests that they weren't successful. It would be very useful to know what attempts were made, and what they found when it didn't work. But, whether because they don't get submitted or don't get accepted, papers on these things aren't appearing in top journals (or any journals, really; sometimes they're buried in a thesis somewhere).

This is a general principle. If it didn't work, perhaps there is something in the data that suggests another approach. But wait, nobody knows. That graduate student's work? It didn't really exist. Nothing to see here, move along. And, hey let's not put up a road-out-ahead sign, so that more time will be wasted. Like the cat that knocked over the vase, let's just walk away like nothing happened.

My theory for why this is the case is that the funding is so limited, and so based on prestige, that nobody will discuss it. I think this is extremely deterimental to the field (and to all the fields that this occurs in), because it's wasteful and because it moves away from a fundamental tenet of science, that a negative result is am important result.

So, in this age of blogs and ready access to information, should we have such a respository? A graveyard for the projects that went terribly wrong. I think it's a great idea.

Faux Pas?

2006-07-19T14:11:00.000+02:00

There's a discussion going on over at academicsecret that touches on the "Imposter Syndrome," where most of us (all?) feel like somebody is going to discover that we can't do what the advertising claims. I don't want to hijack the thread over there, but I think about this a lot and want to keep chewing on it.

Like Turquoise, I had a conversation (when I was considering my current postions, actually) with one of the most respected and established members of my field (people damn near genuflect when they hear his name) in which he said the same thing Turquoise's colleague did. He said, as I was wailing about maybe not being creative enough or having enought ideas, that only the people who really were creative asked that question. His faith in me has gotten me through some of the darker times. It's incidental that it was a male colleague; what strikes me about it, instead, is the universality.

I think this is part of being smart, the creeping fear that we somehow won't be smart enough -- that no matter how smart we are (and we are very, very smart) that it's not enough. Almost all of the extremely smart people I know seem to feel it, some openly and some not. And I think the ones that don't seem to feel it are just better at camouflaging it, and less brave about admitting it.

The fear can be paralysing ("Grant proposal? Oh no, more rejections because I'm not smart enough!" -- instead of "Wow, so many great ideas that there wasn't enough left over to fund mine."), and sometimes it is. Other times, I don't seem to feel it at all. I don't have any answers, but I'd like to hear thoughts.

The glory days

2006-07-18T21:54:00.000+02:00

My summer is half over now. Half. I find this hard to believe. But I've had some interesting (to me) realizations so far. The biggest, by far, is that I'm loving being so very far away. I have literally nothing to do but work and I'm loving it. No guilt whatsoever!

I get up in the morning, pedal my dippy little bike in (I'm still offended it's a girly-bike, but that's just me), and settle down. Twelve or fourteen hours later I go back to my little room and maybe run. The best thing I've found about the length of the days here is that I can stay later at work. A decent chunk of time is just reading blogs or playing scrabble, which I tend to view as not getting in my brain's way while it works. The rest of the time is slogging. But I'm not minding the slogging. And then, when I get home, I pick up the text I'm working through and read it for awhile. It's ridiculous; it ought to be horrible. And it's fabulous.

See, here's the thing: there is nobody and nothing here to make any sort of demands on me that aren't about research (okay, and grant proposals, but I'm not thinking about those right now). I don't have anything to tend to but my research, and I can nurture the ideas I'm having. I thought I'd be lonely, and I thought that I wouldn't like the more national-labby feel of the Institute, because I love the university environment. I was wrong. I like almost everything about being here. People are serious about just doing science, and while I find a lot of the science they're doing to be dull, it's still all about the science.

I can hide from everything else in the world (what, my president groped a foreign head of state? you don't say?) and just work. Normally, in my real world, I can't do that. I have to worry about the house, or think about healing old wounds, and work on courses, and nurture graduate students, but here I'm not in that world, and instead of feeling guilty about taking time away from those things, those obligations, to do science, I can glory in it. Glory in the hedonistic indolence of being perfectly selfish and just do science.

Pink Code

2006-07-12T14:02:00.000+02:00

I'm coding-girl today, and I painted my nails pink in honor of it. But as I sat down to code, it made me wonder: I think I've done this in the past. And that made me realize that, among the women theorists and/or computational scientists I know (a very small number, too small!) , we all do it. It's as though, by this little thing, the ritualistic donning of pink polish, we are claiming our task, somehow saying "I'm a woman in a man's game, and you're going to remember that I can play it any way I want." Being a coder, being a computer geek, being a theorist, doesn't make me unfeminine, so I remind myself once in awhile by being pink.

A few of my favorite things

2006-07-11T22:44:00.000+02:00

So, I've been alerted that there is a care package winging its way to me from the states (thanks, Mom). It made me think on my ride home about why I've been cranky lately, and what I've been missing. Really, I have most of my favorite things:

coffee;
chocolate; and
cheese.

The only ones I'm missing, really (because there's not much I can do about "California," is there?) are

cats (and I was visited by a neighborhood cat this weekend, so I sort of have that one);
crime novels (do I feel clever about this one?! You bet!), and
chick lit (c'mon, Ms. Crusie, finish that next book!).

Is it signifigant that all of my favorite things begin with the letter "c"?

Standing on my hind legs

2006-07-11T13:40:00.000+02:00

I'm in that wonderfully euphoric state that comes when you met all of your specific deadlines and responsibilities. I gave my last seminar of the summer today, and while it wasn't my best seminar ever, it was fine. It was on the part of my research which is mostly complete and past, and that I'm not that excited about anymore. Once in awhile, though, it is nice to return to the work from one's past, especially if one can look at it and say "that was good work, and I'm proud of it," which I can. Which means it was a good seminar, for me, anyway.

There are no more talks on my schedule -- I even resolutely refused to give another research talk next week. Nothing else to do for the rest of the summer except work! No distractions no seminars, just good science*! Oh the joy, the delight, the giddiness -- all science all the time.

*Oh, and the probable acquisition of the espresso-machine-with-spikes (!) if I ever actually get paid.

Homesick

2006-07-09T13:00:00.000+02:00

OOOOh, Pirates came out yesterday! And I couldn't see it. At this point, I'll go see it in German, if that's what it takes. And when I get to my parents' in September, WE ARE GOING TO DISNEYLAND, AND THERE WILL BE NO ARGUING. IS THAT CLEAR?

2006-07-09T12:34:00.000+02:00

Today's great discovery: Leibervoll has decaf!

2006-07-08T19:30:00.000+02:00

Markt Day. I have -- with relish -- just squandered my last 50E, most of it on cheese. There was a blue that almost knocked me down; certianly it took my breath away. I can only image what my breath is now like to anyone else. It made the cheese-mongers laugh, the way I gasped.

I was late getting to the market this morning -- I got up alright, but after breakfast was seduced into a small nap. That lasted an hour. But I got to the market and got my cheese. The bread options had dwindled to almost nothing by the time I got there, but I have a walnut bread that looks promising. It is a wonderful day, not to hot but still sunny, and I suppose that everyone was up early because of it.

When I had my coffee in the Markt Square, I shared a table with a couple about my parents' age. They were very nice, and asked where I was from and what I did. So I tried to explain, but it turns out that, as hard as it is to explain my work in small words in English, it's orders of magnitude harder in German. I attribute this mostly to the fact that German scorns
small words.

2006-07-06T19:15:00.000+02:00

This morning I detoured through the Zentrum von Juelich to go to one of the groceries that was rumored to have decaffinated coffee. I didn't find it. Again.

I finally went to the strange little store (next to a bakery) that sells coffee and cell phone and flip-flops (and, I am told, vacation packages), threw up my hands and said pathetically "kaffeine frei?" They rescued me. Then, of course, it turned out later that, in fact, I'd seen decaf in every store, but it wasn't called what I thought it was! The group told me to look for "Kaffeinfrei" but it's apparently called "Entkaffeiniert" -- which I saw in every store but thought meant something different. Ah yes, this humility, I'm sure it's good for me in some way!

But this is the round-about way to say that the wonderful thing about the detour was that there were fresh croissants at the bakery -- fresh as in "came out of the oven while I was standing there" fresh. So I brought some to take back to the institute for morning coffee, and once in a while on the ride back the smell of warm croissant would waft forward to tantalize me. They were good, too.

Independence and Obligation

2006-07-04T15:09:00.000+02:00

Today is the 4th of July, the day that we celebrate as the birth of the United States of America. Of course, it isn't really the day on which the Union was formed, which can't be localized to a single moment in any case. But that doesn't matter; what does is the moment taken to recognize the ideals for which it stood then and hopefully stands still.

For me, this means that I was never told that a girl couldn't do science (or anything else for that matter), or that I would have to bow to anyone. I am grateful for these things, and for a wealth of freedoms I enjoy every day. I also recognize that I have an obligation to my State to be an informed and active participant, which includes being a voice of dissent.

So, I encourage everyone to revisit the Constitution and its amendments, and reflect upon the ways we have -- and, more importantly, have not -- upheld them. And make plans to do a better job next year.

Happy Independence Day.

Interesting indeed

2006-07-02T16:55:00.000+02:00

Had a rather long and convoluted arguement with my Dad about the standards to which scientists hold ourselves (and the others in our community). Then I tripped on this, over at if:book, which is an interesting read:
on the future of peer review in electronic scholarly publishing

Go check it out.

update 7

2006-07-02T15:41:00.000+02:00

Sunday mornings in the square, no matter how sun-drenched, are apparently quiet. It's after 11, and the church organ signals the end of services. Interestingly, this group, people exiting the church, is the most racially diverse that I have seen in the town. While that doesn't really say very much, I think it does say something good about this church. There are the traditional older ladies, in alarming floral suits, and a couple of straw hats. The feathery pink delight from last week is, sadly, missing.

I have seen many good clothes, but not of the sort I would wear. For the most part the attire is staid, and actually remarkably similar to that we see daily (except that the older women are more likely here to cover their hair, and the kercheifed-Oma is common). The difference is in the cafe culture, in the time spend outside at little tables. Almost every little cafe has an outside area, and the busiest place I have seen is the ice cream parlor -- at all hours of the day!

I think that, in their longer history, what they have really learned is to savor the pleasantries. I think this lies behind the vast prevelance of bicycles, and the refusal to accept substandard food (all coffee is good coffee, for example). Certainly it lies behind their beer.

The do ignore history on one thing, thoough -- everyone here smokes, and I'm sorry, but it's gross. In addition to the nasty smell and the smoke blowing all over those of us who aren't smoking, there are these scary 1970's-esque cigarrette vending machings -- brownish horrors on street corners or attached to people's houses.

Another thing they do really well here are glasses, and since I need a new pair anyway, I think I'll get them here. Very hip, very stylish. And how is this for the embarrassment of the day -- I just had to log onto the wireless to ask if there were any cold coffees. The ridiculousness of it is utterly delicious.

update 6

2006-06-25T15:13:00.000+02:00

Today the market square has all the stillness of a Sunday morning. I wonder what time the church service ends, and if it will suddenly flood the square on which it sits with voices and sound, the children abruptly freed from stillness. I can hear the organ inside, and think I will find out soon.

First come a pair of old ladies, in floral suits, and then a family of African descent, the mother wearing a wonderful pink cap with what look like feathers. The people seem to exit quietly, and the square is still muted. But now the church bells begin to ring the three quarters and a moped drives onto the square. Even it seems muffled; I wonder if the clouds are encouraging quiet. Voices are starting to echo, and perhaps it just needs a critical number of people to start their days. The congregation seems to be gather in front of the church, which doesn't face the main square, and only slowly are they spreading out. Still the birds are the loudest sounds, I am surprised.

Yesterday, this same square was teeming with people. The entire village, and all of the surrounding villages, turn out for market day. I am starting to feel more a part of the village life, and I see the the little old men with dogs (every family has one) and smile. My bicycle has a basket now, and that makes me feel less conspicuously different than usually. I ordered my bread in German, but was only able to do about half of my produce marketing in German before the vendor switched to English -- apparently red leaf lettuce in German is not Kopfsalat rot. Oh well, it was a reasonable attempt. The figs are gone from the market, their short season apparently over. I am saddened by this, because somehow the combination of figs and cheese is so utterly European and I have enjoyed it.

This morning I am too tired for German, and my waitress (not the normal one, but another one who knows me, also) reprimanded me a little for not trying. She told me that I should try to speak some German, because Jurg said ... (and then she got distracted). She is right, of course, but I haven't been studying as much as I need to and I'm exhausted today. My cheese-monger (I can't decided whether I am possessive of them, or the word cheese-monger, which I adore) told me (and then had to translate) that he thought my Deutsch was getting better and better -- every week, he said. I think this is not really true, but rather another example of the continental chivalry which I find alternately charming or irritating.

There is, without doubt, a feminist issue involved with being here. Yesterday, after having been here almost three weeks, I met the first other woman scientist at the institute (there must be others, but I have not seen them). I was told before I came here that women scientists were treated differently (Germany in particular) and that I should pay attention and be very clear in my credentials. Also, a colleague's 10-year old daughter, who is American, cannot play soccer in school here as she did in the US. It is considered too rough for girls. I think they do not really recognize the insidious danger of such things. It is really a very small step from there to "girls shouldn't do science" or some other such thing. I was, of course, reminded of the old doctrine of Kuche, Kiche, Kinder (yes, I brought Ms. Sayers with me). So, while I could not care less who wins the men's soccer, I want to American women to destroy them (unfortunately, the women's World Cup is next year, in China, so it will lack some of the force). Because, as I mentioned to the colleague, the American's are the only ones with any respect for their women's team. It is strange to be in such a situation, somewhat topsy-turvy. I think, now (as not before) that Title 9 may have been a very good thing, and that there is something to be said for the idea of athletes as ambassadors. I am more grateful to Ms. Chastain than I realized.

Deutschland won their match yesterday against Sweden and advanced to the quarterfinals. From the cheering one might have thought it was the finals. There were what seemed like all the cars in town driving in circles with people hanging out to wave the German flag and blaring their horns. And singing "Deutschland, Deutschland" with a long first syllable and lilting final. It went on for quite a long time, and between it and all the people (lots!) painted like (or wearing) the German flag, I almost wished they had lost. I wonder what will happen at the next round, and at the finals. Will the intensity increase with each victory? Will it last for a week if they win the Weldmeister? Or more?

update 5

2006-06-22T15:12:00.000+02:00

My bicycle light still does not function, which I find somewhat frustrating. But at dusk in the forest, the fireflies come out, greener than I recall but glowing. And they bob along the edges of the path, little guiding lights. I still do not like riding home after it gets darker, but I look forward to seeing the fireflies.

update 4

2006-06-19T15:12:00.000+02:00

The other day when I came out of my apartment to go to work, my landlady pointed at the little brown birds swooping about and said "swallen" and after a moment I felt my heart lift. Swallen are swallows, just like ours, and they are nesting above my window.

update 3

2006-06-18T15:39:00.000+02:00

Yesterday I was very brave and took the train -- two of them, actually -- to Aachen for the afternoon. It went okay, largely because most of the Deutsch-Bahn (DB) employees speek English, and are very helpful to the foreigner. I was able to figure out which train I wanted from Juelich to Dueren, or rather, I guessed right. I made an error in the ticket, apparently, although I still haven't figured out how I was supposed to have done it.

I arrived at the Juelich Bahnhof just after 1 in the afternoon, which is when the kiosk (manned by a live person) closes. So I made my best guess as to which side of the tracks I needed, and sat out in the sun until the train arrived. Like most of the German services I have encountered so far, the train was prompt and clean, and, of far more importance, well-labelled.

So I watched everyoe else buy their tickets from the machine on the little train (really a bus on tracks), and then did the same but for my destination. When I got busted on the DB train into Aachen, the conductor told me I had bought a bus ticket -- but I bought it on the train, so I'm confused. Next time I will know, though. In due course, our little train arrived in Dueren, where I had to switch. Everything was, of course, just fine, and I spent a pleasant afternoon wandering around Aachen, culminating in a visit to the bookstore (very like a Boarders) and the discovery of a very good chocolatier.

This is horse country, countryside with wheat and beets. As far as I can tell, almost every family in my village has a horse or a pony. I spend a lot of time jealous, and on this morning's run was passed by a couple of girls out exercises their animals. I want one!

Today is the ``Zitadellen Fest'', and I see ticket vendors by the old castle gates -- I think that the faire is actually within the castle walls -- a hard act to follow for any American Faire. After I've eaten, I'll go over there and walk around, see the sights. And then, like almost every other evening, I wil be back here at Leibervoll, this time with the group to watch the Brazil-somebody or other soccer match. Yesterday, the cheese-monger, in an effor to foster more communications, brought up the US match and said they played today. He was chargirned and amused when is said "oh, really? I thought they were done" -- although I feel very much at home here, it was a very clear illustration that, in fact, I am not.

On that note, I made a very sad discovery today. It turns out that "Eiskaffee" in this country is _not_, in fact, iced coffee as I had delightedly believed, but an ice cream float made with coffee. Sigh.

update 2

2006-06-16T14:58:00.000+02:00

The market today is much smaller than last week. There are no stalls of craftsmen and artists near the Zitadellen as there were, so I think last week was a special treat. There were many many stalls, with all sorts of craftwork, particularly cloth and clothing, on the park, running right up to the old castle walls. It gave an amazing sense of continuity and history, seeing the market like a slight modernization of what it must have been from the beginning. I'm sorry that it isn't always like that. Tomorrow, though, is the "Zitadellen Fest" which I think is like a Renn Faire.

I've finished my marketing, except for some things I will buy at the normal store. There were no figs this week (I will look again), and the peaches were not ripe. But I found fresh blackberries, and more strawberries, and some cherries (kirschen), which I managed to procure without switching to English, and had a nice exchange with the confectioner, from whom I bought macaroons and rum balls, all in sign language. My flowers this week are a lovely yellow and orange arrangement of gerbera daisies and mums, with a spray of creamy snapdragons. Yesterday the cleaninglady came to clean my little room. When I got home last night, my landlady had left a vase on my table with a long spray of white flowers and some pink roses from the garden. It's is a lovely thing to come in to, and this week I will have two arrangements.

The cheese-monger I save for last (although I bought my cheese first). I very carefully said "Wei geht es Inen?" and he carefully answered "Danke, gut, und Selbst?" after which I said "Danke, gut" and switched to English. We again had a wonderful time trying cheeses, and when I asked about a particular hard goat cheese, he said "Ah, that is a mild cheese, not for you!" I managed to buy only three cheeses this week: a soft blue from France, a soft creme cheese also from France and with the AOC designation, and a hard German mountain cheese of sheep's milk. He tells me that of the almost 6000 varieties of cheese in Europe, only 64 carry the AOC label; he has several of them, and while I don't like all of those I've tried, they are very spectacular. They were very kind to me, when I told them the English word for an herb, they said how wonderful it was that their English was getting better. So chivalrous.

I find that when someone is speaking to me in German, I tense my whole body and strain, as though I can understand by sheer force of will. Perhaps I can. I am starting to hear the breaks between words, and not infrequently will hear words that I recognize, although I won't often know their meaning. I am also starting to recognize some of the numbers, but since the higher numbers are all compounds of the base number with the order tacked on, this isn't as helpful as you might think.

I chat with U, the waitress at Leibervoll. She had English in school, as one of her "license classes" -- advanced classes, for her degree. We talk about whether English is harder or easier than German, and about how living here is different from living in the states. She says that it's a little village, and I explain that the neighborhoods in Chicago are like this, but small towns are not. We talk also about the trains, and how to go to Aachen.

There is a different manager today, an older man who may be the owner. I picture my dad and he talking about restaurants over coffee. I think my father will like it here -- they speak English rather well, and seem disposed to chat, particularly early, just after opening. I will make sure that they have decaffeinated coffee. And I have discovered a little model train shop on the next square.

At the next table are some Irish, tasting the same honey I bought last week and rhapsodizing over it. When U got to them, they struggled for a moment and she said "Oh, you can speak English!" and grinned at me. I think that talking the past week is giving her confidence, too -- because she didn't volunteer English to me until I asked. She frequently says that her English is poor, and I only wish that my German were as poor.

I am planning to go to Aachen this afternoon. It will be my first attempt at the train, and I will have to transfer in Dueren. I want to go today, though, because all of the stores are closed on Sundays. I hope that S will want to go to Aachen today. Or at least that when he comes to do his marketing he'll show me how to take the train. But it is after 11, and there are some green sandals calling my name, and the last train back is apparently at 7pm. So I will prepare to explore.

update 1

2006-06-15T14:44:00.000+02:00

Today is a holiday, and I sit in front of Liebervoll across from the church, from whence issue crowds, the little girls all in frilly white dresses. Many of the older men are dressed in military uniforms, with wonderfully ridiculous hats that have plumes. Sadly, I am without my camera. Now I hear drums, and hope for a procession. Because some of the uniforms are red. The manager/owner (?) and I have been making faces and laughing at the drums. Who knows, we shrug at each other, and I feel part of the town. I think, though, that they do not come this way.
I believe that it is the Day of German Reunification. Some of the uniforms are green, with green and white plumes, others red and white. It's all totally German (Prussian?) and very entraining. How very disappointing: "June 15, 2006 Trinitas, Fronleichnam, Corpus Christi: 50 days after Easter.'' (W just translated this for me as "Happy Corpse Day''). Apparently just an excuse to wear funky hats.

It's been an interesting week. I've seen sheep, and frolicking cows, and a disturbingly anatomically correct beast statue, and the city Markt. I gave a spectacular talk, and was insulted. I bought delightful cheese, and instituted an afternoon group coffee discussion (I seem to do this everywhere). I've had a couple great runs, and hope for many more. I've discovered that what one forgets about riding a bike is not how, but the discomfort of doing so all the time. This morning I found the old city gate. And I've ridden home in the rain and dark through the forest without a light -- and I was right, it is frightening; one imagines faery tale monsters in every shadow.

I've also sat outside at night with many Germans watching the World Cup projected on a screen, drinking Kolsch. Kolsch is the local beer, and they drink it at almost any time of the day. When I sat down at 11 today, already people were drinking it -- and almost uniformly the Kolsch. One must be very careful in ordering beer, and I can order Pils only in Cologne, considered a world away, almost ausland (though it is only 45 minutes by car). I think that to order something else is forgiven only in the tourist. I was not insulted for ordering Weisebier, perhaps because I ordered it without specifying a region, and to drink the white beers is also respected. Since then, however, I order Kolsch, and they delight in fixing my pronunciation.

The German soccer team played last night (the game I watched was Brazil, the other favorite) -- I need to check and see who won. There's a decidedly subdued feeling this morning, which could be just due to the church holiday, or could be much worse -- they might have lost at soccer (fussball!). Alternatively, they might have won and all be hungover. On the square this morning were mostly old men with little dogs (almost every family has one here). Oh the relief, they defeated Poland 1:0. So it's either church or hangover -- or, more probably, both.

For the past week, it has been very sunny and very hot. In fact, it's been perfect summer weather, and a lovely way to meet a new place. Everyone has been outside, and the cafes -- especially the ice cream parlor -- have been full. They all have seating outside, and people always choose it first; there is little air conditioning here. The weather today is disappointing; overcast and cool. Yesterday was at least sunny. But still there are people sitting outside, not just me. I think it's starting later because man people went to church. This is a country without separation of church and state, and it shows in many areas. They do, of course, have a church tax of 4%. They also have many holidays related to saints, and it is often assumed that one is a member of a church (usually Catholic, interestingly, Luther not withstanding).

The coffee here is almost uniformly excellent, thick and strong (I have not found decaf outside of our office at the FZ), and it is easy to drink too much of it. I am tragically void of chocolate, which I am unsure how happened. Perhaps because I have such good coffee that I almost didn't notice. I am slowly exploring the available baked goods. I have yet to find the perfect bakery; I have found several chain-types that make reasonable pastries, but I want the little secret shop owned by a round little German (with, I am certain, a great mustache) that makes the most wonderful pastries and bread in town.

I am told that the sport for which Juelich is known is, delightfully, table tennis. Yes, the first Chinese in town were not affiliated with the Forschungszentrum, but with ping pong. The absurdity is wonderful, as with many things here. I have seem several quite spectacular mustaches, both the narrow waxed ones, and ones that look like horns on the hood of a Texas Cadillac. I have decided that they do these things just to delight me. I made my office mate, J, go with me to pick my bike up from the FZ bicycle repair man in part because I wanted him to see the man's wonderful mustache, puffy over his lip and curling to waxed points on the side.
Tragically, he did not fix my farrahdlicht (bicycle light) correctly, hence the ride through the forest in the dark, but I am trying to see this instead as an opportunity to see the amazing mustache again. It's the little things.

I practice my German every day. Everyone is very patient and kind, offering encouragement and praise for even the most mundane of phrases. Perhaps half of the people do speak English, after a fashion. I have become brave enough to ask if they do, and if so, I will usually switch. If not, we muddle through carefully, and they tell me how to pronounce things. The servers at Liebervoll (uniformly attractive, interestingly, with great glasses!) are used to me now, and help me to practice. Most days I allocate an hour or two to study, and then try to use some of the words I learn. I carry my little flash cards with me, and when I have time I study them. The group finds this entertaining, but as the day of the storm two of my randomly chosen words were "donnern", to thunder, and "das Wetter/das Gewitter", weather/thunderstorm, they no longer mock me quite as much.

The trip to Aachen with the conference participants was wonderful. We had a tour of the cathedral, the original part (still standing) of which was erected by Charlemagne. I did not realize that Aachen was Charlemagne's seat, and his presence is everywhere felt. The city hall ("Rathaus" -- I love German!!!) is in fact still in the "King's Building", although only part of it still stands. It was on the walking tour of the city that we saw the beast statue, which U pronounced "embarrassing" and W took pictures of (I will send a copy when I get one; it was very funny). There were also amazing shops -- one of olive oil and vinegar, which could be very dangerous, and another with the most wonderful espresso machines (one has spikes!), and yet another with shoes. I think perhaps I will go there tomorrow, or on Saturday. While I find the European approach to working time entirely alien, they have absolutely the right idea on cafes (and cheese!). There are many of them, most have outside seating, and one moves between them from about 5 in the afternoon on, having little bits at several. After the tour of the cathedral (``Dom''), we stopped at the gelato place on the main square (still centered around the cathedral) and had cones with wonderful little scoops of Italian Ise.

As we knew, there is almost no ice here. I find this hard, as, for the past week, it has been very hot, and I want nothing so much as an iced coffee. However, I have done as the Germans do and had ice cream instead. There is also only mineral water, which I despise. In the tourist restaurant where the dinner for the conference was, I asked for "Stillischewasser" (still, or silent, water), and was given pitcher of tap water with what must have been all the ice they could find. I had clearly marked myself as American, and we all laughed very hard at this. I drink a lot of tap water, and am very glad that I brought my water bottle with me.

The sheep and cows are on my ride back to the apartment in Stetternich from Juelich. Along the main highway is a bike path, and on the other side of that are some paddocks which also enclose a loosely-planted orchard (I think apple). Among them are lovely black and white cows, clearly happy. Last week, coming home from the conference, we saw the cows frolicking -- literally bounding about in their paddock. It was an amazing manifestation of joy, the younger cows bouncing in the air, a thing I did not even know that cows could do. Cavorting! For the past few days, I have not seen the cows, so I fear they have been moved for the summer.

Once I get into Stetternich proper -- if it can really be described that way, a little village of one main street and a few side streets -- there is a field bounded by a wooden fence. It has sheep, which are, in fact, as cute as they are usually represented. There are even several black ones! Black sheep -- how can I be so lucky? They are always either industriously eating the grass or sleeping as though they fell over, their little legs tucked up under, and their necks stretched out so that their chins can rest comfortably. Watching them sleep is rather like looking at Emma, or perhaps gold fish. There are also apparently many ponds, populated by what must be overwhelming numbers of frogs. At night they sing, making fabulous warbling sounds that fill the air without disturbing it. Sometimes they sound almost human, and it is easy to understand the old faery tales.

(The radio inside is play Simon and Garfunkel -- Mrs. Robinson. It makes me smile)

Arrival

2006-06-05T14:26:00.000+02:00

I am delighted with my little village. Y has just shown me the route to the FZ from my apartment. It is one turn and then a long (2-3km) path.

As we were riding up my street before the turn, we passed a young woman leading a dappled pony. Just walking up the street the two of them. And just after that, on the left were a bay and a grey horse stading in a little paddock. Most of the houses have huge climbing roses on them, yellow and pink and white. The gardens are tidy and inviting, and somehow archtyipically (tupisch) old Europe, not at all British.

After the turn, there is a long stretch of fields, which begin with several pastures holding ponies and perhaps other delights to be discovered on morning runs to walks to and from work. There are horses everywhere, it seems. Heading the other direction from the apartment, still up Wolfshovener Strasse but towards Juelich, are more climbing roses, sheep, and a Gosthaus.

The path turns after the pastures, no longer paved, running along fields with rows of leafy greens, perhaps chard. And then, then is the forest. It is not the forest of fairy tales, but perhaps it will seem so at night. It is a pleasant and inviting green expanse flanking the bike trail. This winds through the woods, eventually running along the periphery of the Institute itself. It will make a wonderful running path, and off it I saw spurs with a sign I think means ``nature trail'' that I hope to explore in the coming weeks. As I walk (or ride) up, I think I will feel happy and excited.

I have seen lots in Juelich this afternoon that pleases me, from charming shops (all, of course, closed for the holiday), to a wonderful pond with ducks (which, of course, we fed), to a castle _with a moat_. We sat outside at a cafe that Y likes, having coffee (me) and regional bier (him) and something to eat. While the food we ordered wasn't brilliant, the coffee was, and the other food we saw ordered looked appealing. The desserts vertainly seemed so. Even better, though, to go with the very good coffee they serve little butter cookies and free wireless.

I was feeling a bit lost this afternoon, because communication is much harder than I'd expected. My landlady speaks almost no English, and I have essentially no German (words like "good" and "auto" go by very quickly in real time). I hear the word for beautiful "schurn" often, and it sounds lovely when said. But spending the afternoon with other English speakers, people that I know, and meeting a very nice woman who was also excited about the moat, have helped immensely.

I wrote this sitting outside the FZ while Y called the other arrival. We are now all inside at the cafe from earlier, drinking wiessebier and using the wireless! And waiting for S (one of "my" Germans).