I last posted in October. I'd feel guilty if I haven't been so busy.
A quick run-down:
-4 classes, taken and passed, including Stat 641, the behemoth, the unknowable, the sapper of non-stat-PhD-students' wills and hopes. I received the gentleman's AB (read: You're really bad at this, but you tried hard, came to every class, and you're a graduate student). No complaints.
-Gave my first talk MSTP seminar talk. It's not a huge occasion, but I was still pleased nonetheless.
-Cried in front of my P.I. Whoops. Only once, it was under duress, and it was more of a "tears silently sliding down the face with an occasional snuffle" than a "BAAAAAAAAAW WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO" affair, if you tend to classify these things, as I do.
-Increasingly diminished the vagueness surrounding my actual thesis project.
-Made Christmas cookies and sent them out to distant friends and family prior to Christmas.
-Completed my first semester of once-a-week physician shadowing in infectious disease. It was pretty damn fun.
And now, we stand on the cusp of 2014. Resolutions are a relatively big deal in my family. I'm not sure how the tradition came about--we DO tend toward a chipper and easily irritating "every day in every way I'm getting better and better" mentality, I suppose--but it happens. We'd sit down to a meal of gougères and black bean pastries, look through a book containing the resolutions of years past, and make our own. And then we'd force ourselves to stay up until midnight despite the fact that none of us are night owls. And here I am to carry on the tradition.
My resolutions:
Let's start with the one I know I will fail.
1) Complete the 365 book challenge, and record progress herein. An anthology of short stories counts as one book. Conversely, so does one graphic novel. All books count.
It's basically impossible. So why? Because I used to love to read, and did it voraciously. Because now my evenings are full of mindless redditing while watching Netflix. Because I'm not sure if it's my age or my internet addiction, but I'm finding it harder to focus on reading as I read. Because if you read a lot, you'll be a better writer, and god knows I could use some grant money.
2) No zero days when it comes to research.
One of my biggest accomplishments in the last month is nailing down a time frame for the academic hurdles in the near future. I'll be submitting an NRSA in April, so I need to have my prelim in March in order to have any hope at incorporating feedback. This means I need a project proposal written up and submitted to my committee at the beginning of January, because I'd like to meet with everyone individually before starting to write it in earnest. Every day, I will make some measurable progress, even if that just means editing a few pages or reading a paper or two.
3) Run more than I did in 2013
A knee something or other, I don't know, it really hurt, man, kept me from the 2013 Madison Marathon. I'd like to make it to the 2014 marathon, but I don't want to set myself up for disappointment by making it a Resolution. So I will run more, and I will run often.
4) Complete a feat of strength or endurance that is new to me
A triathalon. A Tough Mudder. Maybe a marathon. Something to make myself feel good about myself that doesn't revolve around graduate school, because god knows, graduate school never delivers.
5) Be nicer to people.
Smile more. Offer to help. Listen. Send thank-you-notes more promptly. All that good stuff.
6) Meditate, and meditate regularly.
It can be done. It will help.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
What I have learned in graduate school
A brief update on the homemade fermented soda: It's in our fridge. It's been there for a month. We're both too scared to drink it. It was a nice idea, at least.
I was thinking this morning about all the subtle and not-subtle and not-quite-so-subtle-though-perhaps-they-should-be ways in which my behavior has evolved since I began graduate school about a year and three months ago. It's been a tremendous shift, and for the most part, I am grateful for it.
The practical
-If an experiment can feasibly be done today, at least consider doing it.
-But don't feel obligated to stay late if you came in at a reasonable hour in the morning. Nothing good happens when the building locks up and everyone else has left the lab.
-This also tends to hold true for experiments that start on a Friday or Saturday.
-Analyze data soon after your experiment is done, and put it into your lab notebook without delay. Details tend to escape you much more quickly than you'd think.
-Make a table of contents for your lab notebook as you go. This will save you hours of frustration at the end of your PhD, or so I am told.
-Medical school taught us how to study and work quickly. Do everything in your power to hold onto this skill. It will always serve you well, and will often give you an edge on other grads.
-You can give a 15-minute talk about anything.
The psychological
-Not everyone will like you. This sucks, and is a big change from medical school. In medical school, I found that a combination of quietness, good grooming, willingness to take on a lot of work, and excellent study skills were usually sufficient to keep you in everyone's good graces. I was stunned at first by the internal politics and interplay of egos that makes up a lab, a department, a committee. You will step on someone's toes. You will likely not even realize it when it happens. There's not much you can do about it. Apologize if necessary, but be ready to shrug it off.
-A well-planned, deliberate, highly public, and explosive tantrum can be a tremendously effective tool. Use it sparingly. (Admittedly, my dad taught me this. I haven't yet tested it out on my own...yet.)
-For the love of all things holy, do not let your P.I. see you cry.
-There are very few mistakes that can't be unmade. Do your best to work precisely, quickly own up to any mistakes or accidents, but don't let failed experiments or screw-ups stress you out.
The broader view
-There are those who will try to make you feel guilty for taking care of yourself. They may do it unconsciously (the "I stayed here until 9 PM finishing this experiment" humblebrag). They may do it blatantly, questioning your priorities or offering too-pointed advice. If it is a superior, smile and thank them. If it is a peer, smile and shrug. But ignore them. You don't have to stay super-late. You don't have to work every weekend. You can have hobbies, you can volunteer, you can go to shows and cook dinner and throw parties and do everything that you loved before you started graduate school. And you should. Graduate school is a big part of your life, but allowing it to define your life is an exercise in misery.
-Relatedly, you have permission to ignore any statement that begins with "A good grad student/researcher/scientist always ____." The definition of a good ____ varies immensely from person to person. My first year, I was severely scolded for not asking other labs for reagents, and was told that A Good Graduate Student was not shy about going to other labs and asking to borrow things. This would have been a big surprise to my former lab at the NIH, where reagent-borrowing was severely frowned upon and A Good Graduate Student never imposed herself on another research group, you do your thing and I'll do mine, even if it means waiting for two weeks for this one reagent to come in, etc. Find out what your lab expects and do it, but don't feel obligated to take it as gospel.
-It will be all right. I promise. No matter what happens. Even if you switch labs or don't finish your PhD or decide you hate science. It really will be all right.
I was thinking this morning about all the subtle and not-subtle and not-quite-so-subtle-though-perhaps-they-should-be ways in which my behavior has evolved since I began graduate school about a year and three months ago. It's been a tremendous shift, and for the most part, I am grateful for it.
The practical
-If an experiment can feasibly be done today, at least consider doing it.
-But don't feel obligated to stay late if you came in at a reasonable hour in the morning. Nothing good happens when the building locks up and everyone else has left the lab.
-This also tends to hold true for experiments that start on a Friday or Saturday.
-Analyze data soon after your experiment is done, and put it into your lab notebook without delay. Details tend to escape you much more quickly than you'd think.
-Make a table of contents for your lab notebook as you go. This will save you hours of frustration at the end of your PhD, or so I am told.
-Medical school taught us how to study and work quickly. Do everything in your power to hold onto this skill. It will always serve you well, and will often give you an edge on other grads.
-You can give a 15-minute talk about anything.
The psychological
-Not everyone will like you. This sucks, and is a big change from medical school. In medical school, I found that a combination of quietness, good grooming, willingness to take on a lot of work, and excellent study skills were usually sufficient to keep you in everyone's good graces. I was stunned at first by the internal politics and interplay of egos that makes up a lab, a department, a committee. You will step on someone's toes. You will likely not even realize it when it happens. There's not much you can do about it. Apologize if necessary, but be ready to shrug it off.
-A well-planned, deliberate, highly public, and explosive tantrum can be a tremendously effective tool. Use it sparingly. (Admittedly, my dad taught me this. I haven't yet tested it out on my own...yet.)
-For the love of all things holy, do not let your P.I. see you cry.
-There are very few mistakes that can't be unmade. Do your best to work precisely, quickly own up to any mistakes or accidents, but don't let failed experiments or screw-ups stress you out.
The broader view
-There are those who will try to make you feel guilty for taking care of yourself. They may do it unconsciously (the "I stayed here until 9 PM finishing this experiment" humblebrag). They may do it blatantly, questioning your priorities or offering too-pointed advice. If it is a superior, smile and thank them. If it is a peer, smile and shrug. But ignore them. You don't have to stay super-late. You don't have to work every weekend. You can have hobbies, you can volunteer, you can go to shows and cook dinner and throw parties and do everything that you loved before you started graduate school. And you should. Graduate school is a big part of your life, but allowing it to define your life is an exercise in misery.
-Relatedly, you have permission to ignore any statement that begins with "A good grad student/researcher/scientist always ____." The definition of a good ____ varies immensely from person to person. My first year, I was severely scolded for not asking other labs for reagents, and was told that A Good Graduate Student was not shy about going to other labs and asking to borrow things. This would have been a big surprise to my former lab at the NIH, where reagent-borrowing was severely frowned upon and A Good Graduate Student never imposed herself on another research group, you do your thing and I'll do mine, even if it means waiting for two weeks for this one reagent to come in, etc. Find out what your lab expects and do it, but don't feel obligated to take it as gospel.
-It will be all right. I promise. No matter what happens. Even if you switch labs or don't finish your PhD or decide you hate science. It really will be all right.
Monday, September 9, 2013
Currently starting the process of making cultured soda
I have a mild-to-moderate DIY streak, which for the most part has brought me modest success and not too much trouble. This may change with the advent of my discovery of cultured soda.
It's a multi-day, multi-step process. The first several days involve the gentle fermentation of grated ginger and sugar in water (this is known as the "ginger bug"). After a while, you take 1/2 cup of ginger bug and add it to some sort of fruit juice. I'm starting with pureed red grapes, though apparently apple juice works well too. I'm curious to see if orange juice would be effective, because orange+ginger seems like it would be a tasty combo.
After that, you transfer the bug+juice to a clean empty soda bottle, and let it sit until the bottle feels like it's built some pressure up, at which point it can be refrigerated and enjoyed.
(I'm skipping all of the helpful tips about occasionally skimming off the mold, because for all I know my friends might be reading this and will subsequently refuse to taste-test. Taste-testing and objective opinions will be key, because I don't drink soda. I did mention that, didn't I?)
It's a multi-day, multi-step process. The first several days involve the gentle fermentation of grated ginger and sugar in water (this is known as the "ginger bug"). After a while, you take 1/2 cup of ginger bug and add it to some sort of fruit juice. I'm starting with pureed red grapes, though apparently apple juice works well too. I'm curious to see if orange juice would be effective, because orange+ginger seems like it would be a tasty combo.
After that, you transfer the bug+juice to a clean empty soda bottle, and let it sit until the bottle feels like it's built some pressure up, at which point it can be refrigerated and enjoyed.
(I'm skipping all of the helpful tips about occasionally skimming off the mold, because for all I know my friends might be reading this and will subsequently refuse to taste-test. Taste-testing and objective opinions will be key, because I don't drink soda. I did mention that, didn't I?)
This is sort of what the ginger bug looks like
This is what the finished product will ostensibly look like
And these are among the first results you get when you Google Image search "fermentation explosions". Fingers crossed...
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Of journal clubs and starfish
So. Graduate school begins again. While I got a lot done this summer, it's amazing how leisurely it seems in retrospect. Yes, those carefree, careless less-than-five-days-ago days...
I did get a break, thankfully. I took a last-minute vacation at a friend's vacation home on Lake Michigan. Much to my delight, I learned that the beaches in this area are basically covered in crinoids. Crinoids are essentially starfish on stalks, and if you look carefully on this beach you would find tiny cylinders, the remnants of various stalk segments.
I did get a break, thankfully. I took a last-minute vacation at a friend's vacation home on Lake Michigan. Much to my delight, I learned that the beaches in this area are basically covered in crinoids. Crinoids are essentially starfish on stalks, and if you look carefully on this beach you would find tiny cylinders, the remnants of various stalk segments.
Starfish on stalks, Lovecraftian horror...potayto, potahto
And here we see a lovely selection of crinoid fossils, as well as a sample of the primitive form of currency used by their civilization
So here we are. I'm taking four courses this semester. It was going to be five, but my advisor's class got canceled due to underenrollment.
Benefits of taking your advisor's class: Easy A, brownie points, insight into your advisor's philosopy/priorities
Downsides of taking your advisor's class: An extra 9+ hours a week with your advisor, which, in this particular case, was almost certainly going to be a thrice-weekly journal club.
Journal club: A meeting in which people who have not read a journal article desperately pretend to have read a journal article. In the event that someone has read the article (or even if they have not), the discussion will almost always devolve into a snoot-fest in which the paper is excoriated, the authors are scoffed at, and the journal is derided for having accepted such an utter piece of crap. Especially if the journal is Nature or Science.
Most exciting class: General Virology, taught by some absolutely fantastic professors. It's going to be a lot of self-directed study, but it's stuff I need to know for my thesis. And we're watching a video about Ebola on Friday.
True story: I credit the Hot Zone as significant motivation for putting me on the MD/PhD path. I blithely picked it up while staying at my grandparents' farm one summer. I couldn't have been more than 9 or 10. I don't remember anything about it except for the opening sequence, where Patient Zero gets sick and pukes up coffee ground vomit on the plane, and a description at the end of necrotic, exploded testicles caused by Marburg infection, I think. My curiosity was piqued. It was well worth the 5-10 years of wretched hypochondria induced by this literary discovery.
Most terrifying class: Statistics for Clinical Trials. In theory, I am prepared for this class. In reality, the prereqs for the course were horrifyingly insufficient, and I have no idea what the hypergeometric distribution* is. But I need it for my PhD (and I do, I do want to be the kind of researcher who's not laughed at by statisticians), so I'm in for a semester of office hour visits and lots of work.
*This also sounds vaguely Lovecraftian, but in fact refers to the situation in which you pull n balls out of a box that contains a certain number of black balls and a certain number of white balls.
So there it is. I'm still determined that this semester shall be better than the last. Ganbatte, and IL-X out!
Unlike the crinoids and the function, this picture is explicitly Lovecraftian. It is, in fact, Junji Ito's tribute to H.P. Lovecraft. I am a huge Junji Ito fan. I am also a huge H.P. Lovecraft fan, so this picture tickles me immensely.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Revamp
Due in part to the start of a new academic year and Meja's revitalization of our program's Communications board, this post marks the resurrection of my blog.
Who am I:
-A student of immunology on a clinical research track starting her second year of graduate school.
What I want to tell you:
Everyone's first year of graduate school is rough. Due to unusual happenings and timing problems, mine was extremely rough. I struggled for a number of months with the thought of switching labs and/or quitting outright. But at some point (admittedly, it happened later rather than sooner), something snapped and...I started getting on. I won't tell you I've had wild success, and I won't lie and say that I don't have awful days anymore. But it's a lot better now.
One of the things I struggled with the most was the thought that these problems were mine and mine alone, indicative (at best) of a failure to cope or (at worst) an inability to do science. I know now beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is not true. In posts to come, I'll tell you bits and pieces of what I went through, what I am going through, what I did that helped, and what I had to accept was out of my control. Maybe you'll find it helpful; maybe none of it will relate to you. But I want you to know that 93% of the time in graduate school, the problem is not you. I learned/am learning to deal, and you will too.
Things I will probably write about in the following weeks:
-My first committee meeting
-Why Brad Dourif is the most amazing and underrated actor of our time
-How I became strangely evangelical about running shoes
-How I learned to stop putting my foot in my mouth every time I talked to my PI
-Maintenance of a healthy, positive attitude in graduate school (SPOILERS: It involves lowered expectations, PhD comics, and www.reddit.com/r/pitbulls)
-Axolotl husbandry
-Keeping a proper lab notebook (SO IMPORTANT!)
-H.P. Lovecraft
-Contrary to popular belief, folkdancing is a lot of fun and you all should do it with me!
Things I promise I will not talk about anymore:
-WAAAH I am so fat
-WAAAH I am so unproductive
-WAAAH I hate my project/lab/life choices
-Running away and joining the circus: Y/N?
-Pros and cons of various exotic dancer names
This year is going to be a better year than the last one, I have no doubt at all.
-IL-X
Who am I:
-A student of immunology on a clinical research track starting her second year of graduate school.
What I want to tell you:
Everyone's first year of graduate school is rough. Due to unusual happenings and timing problems, mine was extremely rough. I struggled for a number of months with the thought of switching labs and/or quitting outright. But at some point (admittedly, it happened later rather than sooner), something snapped and...I started getting on. I won't tell you I've had wild success, and I won't lie and say that I don't have awful days anymore. But it's a lot better now.
One of the things I struggled with the most was the thought that these problems were mine and mine alone, indicative (at best) of a failure to cope or (at worst) an inability to do science. I know now beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is not true. In posts to come, I'll tell you bits and pieces of what I went through, what I am going through, what I did that helped, and what I had to accept was out of my control. Maybe you'll find it helpful; maybe none of it will relate to you. But I want you to know that 93% of the time in graduate school, the problem is not you. I learned/am learning to deal, and you will too.
Things I will probably write about in the following weeks:
-My first committee meeting
-Why Brad Dourif is the most amazing and underrated actor of our time
-How I became strangely evangelical about running shoes
-How I learned to stop putting my foot in my mouth every time I talked to my PI
-Maintenance of a healthy, positive attitude in graduate school (SPOILERS: It involves lowered expectations, PhD comics, and www.reddit.com/r/pitbulls)
-Axolotl husbandry
-Keeping a proper lab notebook (SO IMPORTANT!)
-H.P. Lovecraft
-Contrary to popular belief, folkdancing is a lot of fun and you all should do it with me!
Things I promise I will not talk about anymore:
-WAAAH I am so fat
-WAAAH I am so unproductive
-WAAAH I hate my project/lab/life choices
-Running away and joining the circus: Y/N?
-Pros and cons of various exotic dancer names
This year is going to be a better year than the last one, I have no doubt at all.
-IL-X
Friday, February 15, 2013
In which IL-X thinks about things that are clearly unrelated to preparing her lab meeting presentation
As someone who has very strong opinions about (her own) weight, I tend to follow weight-related media fairly assiduously. I'm a huge fan of the Biggest Loser (and the much more sordid UK Supersize vs. Superskinny), and I do get a kick out of good before and after photo compilations.
But recently, I started reading a fat empowerment blog. The writer is obviously very smart and talented, and I enjoy it, but it's produced a lot of mixed feelings. I agree with many of her points: fat bigotry is a real, awful thing; it is hard to maintain permanent weight loss; and fat people suffer the consequences of medical eye-rolling far too often. (I shadowed a neurologist in college who would manage to slip in "You really need to lose some weight" regardless of what the chief complaint was, and, to my eye, regardless of how heavy the patient was.)
But some of it bothers me in a way I was never quite able to put my finger on. So here is a letter to the author of the blog (that I will not send, because her blog is entirely her business).
Dear fat blogger,
I really enjoy reading your posts, and I think you've hit on a lot of important social issues. However, quite frequently I feel like you fall into the "SOCIETY!!?!?" trap. Which is to say, you argue that ideal body size is dictated by societal norms not rooted in fact or health, and because of this, we should fight against having our lives limited by it. I agree with the first, and disagree with the second. To illustrate my point, I'd like to set you up on a date with my autistic friend.
He is not a real person, but an amalgamation of several close friends and family members. Regardless of whether or not he exists in the flesh, I know him well enough to predict exactly how dinner will go down. His volume control is very poor, so you'll alternately have to lean in as he murmurs under his breath and back away as this progresses without warning to a shout. He'll snap the rubber bands around his wrists constantly. He'll slap the table top for no apparent reason, possibly causing your drink to fall into your lap. He'll laugh randomly. And I hope you like pharmacology, Chinese politics, cars, or roleplaying games, because I guarantee you he's not going to talk about anything else. If you try to change the subject, he'll either change it right back or nod in what is clearly a remote, practiced way. He won't care about your interests. And don't push him too hard, because he's got a very quick temper.
He's tall, handsome, and makes a good living, but I'm certain you'll find a way to end the date early and send me a long email chewing me out about setting you up with such a complete asshole. "I know he's autistic," you'll say, "but that's no excuse for being a jerk."
But you know what? He'll send me an email too. "I can't believe you set me up with such a fat person," he'll write. "She was ugly. It was really off-putting. I'm not looking for a perfect ten, but Jesus, I could have been smothered by her fat rolls."
Yes, he's blunt. I'll wince a little at reading this. I won't show it to you, because I know you'll take great offense. You've written about how you view the inability to find an entire class of people (eg, the super-obese) as attractive as a form of bigotry.
But wait--why he shouldn't be just as offended by your email?
"Because he was criticizing my body, and I was criticizing his personality. He was being a jerk--I was just looking at him." Well, he wasn't deliberately being a jerk. He's autistic. All social norms are going to feel foreign to him. He was born this way. He's not autistic out of spite or malice, he's not autistic because he doesn't care what you think. Why is your criticism any more meaningful than his?
"You can learn social skills. It takes practice, but everyone can do it." Why can't I replace "social skills" with "calorie counting"? Weight loss is hard, yes. But the laws of thermodynamics do not bend for you and you alone. Fat is energy. The fact that 95% of dieters fail to keep the weight off is a testament not to the inaccuracy of physics, but all of the other social and emotional factors that contribute to food and eating and emotion.
Social and emotional factors, I should note, that are foreign to your date. You might say, "Clearly, he's picked up on some of it, he's bought in to the social stereotype that thin is better!" Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. But clearly, you've picked up on some social and emotional factors yourself--ones that are so fundamental and basic you're not even recognizing them. Eye contact, for instance. It's rude in many Asian countries, but an absolute necessity here. And yet, when he was looking everyone in the room but you, I bet you weren't thinking, "Oh, well, it's just an arbitrary social norm." It's far more likely that you were thinking, "I know he's autistic, but he's not even looking at me! Is he not interested? What the hell! This is really off-putting."
"So his brain is wired wrong, he's an anomaly. Whatever. There's nothing biologically wrong with being fat." The "wired wrong" is a very slippery argument. You can apply it to basically anyone and any condition. Fat people are wired wrong--they don't know when to stop eating. Skinny people are wired wrong--evolution dictates we take in as much fat and sugar as possible, so they're they anomalous ones. Non-autistic people are wired wrong: autistic people are much better suited to handle the information overload and technical thinking required to succeed in this world.
In closing, I guess, I fall flat, because I'm not really sure what to conclude. I could tell you my personal views about autism and obesity, but I don't think they're relevant here (and this is your blog, after all). I would just recommend that you take a very close look at your restrictive societal norms: are they restrictive because they don't apply to you personally, or would everyone benefit if they'd go away? And once you do that, think about them from the perspective of my trim autistic friend. And once you do that, think about them from the perspective of...I don't know, somebody else.
We're all tethered by societal chains. Some of them chafe, some of them don't. The ones that you don't notice are the ones that drove my autistic friend to an anxiolytic addiction. Human rights are human rights, this is true. But making a large group of people feel guilty for wanting to look or act or dress a certain way that doesn't suit you can easily borderline on petty.
Sincerely,
IL-X
But recently, I started reading a fat empowerment blog. The writer is obviously very smart and talented, and I enjoy it, but it's produced a lot of mixed feelings. I agree with many of her points: fat bigotry is a real, awful thing; it is hard to maintain permanent weight loss; and fat people suffer the consequences of medical eye-rolling far too often. (I shadowed a neurologist in college who would manage to slip in "You really need to lose some weight" regardless of what the chief complaint was, and, to my eye, regardless of how heavy the patient was.)
But some of it bothers me in a way I was never quite able to put my finger on. So here is a letter to the author of the blog (that I will not send, because her blog is entirely her business).
Dear fat blogger,
I really enjoy reading your posts, and I think you've hit on a lot of important social issues. However, quite frequently I feel like you fall into the "SOCIETY!!?!?" trap. Which is to say, you argue that ideal body size is dictated by societal norms not rooted in fact or health, and because of this, we should fight against having our lives limited by it. I agree with the first, and disagree with the second. To illustrate my point, I'd like to set you up on a date with my autistic friend.
He is not a real person, but an amalgamation of several close friends and family members. Regardless of whether or not he exists in the flesh, I know him well enough to predict exactly how dinner will go down. His volume control is very poor, so you'll alternately have to lean in as he murmurs under his breath and back away as this progresses without warning to a shout. He'll snap the rubber bands around his wrists constantly. He'll slap the table top for no apparent reason, possibly causing your drink to fall into your lap. He'll laugh randomly. And I hope you like pharmacology, Chinese politics, cars, or roleplaying games, because I guarantee you he's not going to talk about anything else. If you try to change the subject, he'll either change it right back or nod in what is clearly a remote, practiced way. He won't care about your interests. And don't push him too hard, because he's got a very quick temper.
He's tall, handsome, and makes a good living, but I'm certain you'll find a way to end the date early and send me a long email chewing me out about setting you up with such a complete asshole. "I know he's autistic," you'll say, "but that's no excuse for being a jerk."
But you know what? He'll send me an email too. "I can't believe you set me up with such a fat person," he'll write. "She was ugly. It was really off-putting. I'm not looking for a perfect ten, but Jesus, I could have been smothered by her fat rolls."
Yes, he's blunt. I'll wince a little at reading this. I won't show it to you, because I know you'll take great offense. You've written about how you view the inability to find an entire class of people (eg, the super-obese) as attractive as a form of bigotry.
But wait--why he shouldn't be just as offended by your email?
"Because he was criticizing my body, and I was criticizing his personality. He was being a jerk--I was just looking at him." Well, he wasn't deliberately being a jerk. He's autistic. All social norms are going to feel foreign to him. He was born this way. He's not autistic out of spite or malice, he's not autistic because he doesn't care what you think. Why is your criticism any more meaningful than his?
"You can learn social skills. It takes practice, but everyone can do it." Why can't I replace "social skills" with "calorie counting"? Weight loss is hard, yes. But the laws of thermodynamics do not bend for you and you alone. Fat is energy. The fact that 95% of dieters fail to keep the weight off is a testament not to the inaccuracy of physics, but all of the other social and emotional factors that contribute to food and eating and emotion.
Social and emotional factors, I should note, that are foreign to your date. You might say, "Clearly, he's picked up on some of it, he's bought in to the social stereotype that thin is better!" Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. But clearly, you've picked up on some social and emotional factors yourself--ones that are so fundamental and basic you're not even recognizing them. Eye contact, for instance. It's rude in many Asian countries, but an absolute necessity here. And yet, when he was looking everyone in the room but you, I bet you weren't thinking, "Oh, well, it's just an arbitrary social norm." It's far more likely that you were thinking, "I know he's autistic, but he's not even looking at me! Is he not interested? What the hell! This is really off-putting."
"So his brain is wired wrong, he's an anomaly. Whatever. There's nothing biologically wrong with being fat." The "wired wrong" is a very slippery argument. You can apply it to basically anyone and any condition. Fat people are wired wrong--they don't know when to stop eating. Skinny people are wired wrong--evolution dictates we take in as much fat and sugar as possible, so they're they anomalous ones. Non-autistic people are wired wrong: autistic people are much better suited to handle the information overload and technical thinking required to succeed in this world.
In closing, I guess, I fall flat, because I'm not really sure what to conclude. I could tell you my personal views about autism and obesity, but I don't think they're relevant here (and this is your blog, after all). I would just recommend that you take a very close look at your restrictive societal norms: are they restrictive because they don't apply to you personally, or would everyone benefit if they'd go away? And once you do that, think about them from the perspective of my trim autistic friend. And once you do that, think about them from the perspective of...I don't know, somebody else.
We're all tethered by societal chains. Some of them chafe, some of them don't. The ones that you don't notice are the ones that drove my autistic friend to an anxiolytic addiction. Human rights are human rights, this is true. But making a large group of people feel guilty for wanting to look or act or dress a certain way that doesn't suit you can easily borderline on petty.
Sincerely,
IL-X
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Secrets
The secret to running on the treadmill without irreparably damaging my knee appears to be running at a slower pace so I'm forced to take smaller steps. I ran 5 miles yesterday and today, and as of yet have suffered no ill effects!
The secret to troubleshooting is that fixing one problem will likely leave another one untouched and reveal a third. (The IL-10 production is back on the scale we had anticipated, and the LPS is working! But the IL-12 production is still essentially 0, and now my non-tolerogenic cells are acting tolerogenic.)
The secret to getting me to like a movie is to include lots of heavy campy makeup and dramatic singing. Gothic costumes don't hurt either.
The secret to eating normally appears to be putting off lunch as long as possible. Not sure why this works.
According to a cooking blog I read, the secret to ideal banana bread appears to be marzipan. I'll be trying this out tomorrow or Sunday. Another cooking blog revealed that the secret to gnocchi is that it doesn't need to be smothered in cream or browned butter--a light tomato broth is sufficient. I also intend to try this out over the weekend.
The secret that I've kept from my PI is that I really need to start working in the hospital again. We're supposed to do 1/2 a day a week for 10 weeks per semester, and my clinical skills have become ridiculously rusty. Making it easier: It is required. I can just wave my hands in the air and shrug. Making it harder: She's expressed confidence that I will be fine if I devote all my time and energy to research, and that my good nature will carry the day when I go back to medical school. Um.
The secret every single doctor thus far who has observed me has told me: A good nature is great, but ability to make eye contact is key.
The secret I keep to myself when I smile and nod and thank them for their insight: parents, friends, teachers, and mentors have been trying to teach me to make eye contact since I was 2 and it was clear I wanted nothing to do with it.
Relatedly: I still want nothing to do with it. I can snap into interview mode and make eye contact and smile broadly when needed. I can make eye contact with my partners easily, but it's my version of the Naked Rights (Coupling, British version, the only one that matters): the instant the relationship ends, my desire/ability to make effortless eye contact evaporates. I can make tenuous eye contact with friends and family. Ugh. Eye contact should not be required in a civilized world. It is entirely cultural.
On the whole, though, life is good right now. I'm a happy camper.
The secret to troubleshooting is that fixing one problem will likely leave another one untouched and reveal a third. (The IL-10 production is back on the scale we had anticipated, and the LPS is working! But the IL-12 production is still essentially 0, and now my non-tolerogenic cells are acting tolerogenic.)
The secret to getting me to like a movie is to include lots of heavy campy makeup and dramatic singing. Gothic costumes don't hurt either.
The secret to eating normally appears to be putting off lunch as long as possible. Not sure why this works.
According to a cooking blog I read, the secret to ideal banana bread appears to be marzipan. I'll be trying this out tomorrow or Sunday. Another cooking blog revealed that the secret to gnocchi is that it doesn't need to be smothered in cream or browned butter--a light tomato broth is sufficient. I also intend to try this out over the weekend.
The secret that I've kept from my PI is that I really need to start working in the hospital again. We're supposed to do 1/2 a day a week for 10 weeks per semester, and my clinical skills have become ridiculously rusty. Making it easier: It is required. I can just wave my hands in the air and shrug. Making it harder: She's expressed confidence that I will be fine if I devote all my time and energy to research, and that my good nature will carry the day when I go back to medical school. Um.
The secret every single doctor thus far who has observed me has told me: A good nature is great, but ability to make eye contact is key.
The secret I keep to myself when I smile and nod and thank them for their insight: parents, friends, teachers, and mentors have been trying to teach me to make eye contact since I was 2 and it was clear I wanted nothing to do with it.
Relatedly: I still want nothing to do with it. I can snap into interview mode and make eye contact and smile broadly when needed. I can make eye contact with my partners easily, but it's my version of the Naked Rights (Coupling, British version, the only one that matters): the instant the relationship ends, my desire/ability to make effortless eye contact evaporates. I can make tenuous eye contact with friends and family. Ugh. Eye contact should not be required in a civilized world. It is entirely cultural.
On the whole, though, life is good right now. I'm a happy camper.
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