Obsession, Love, Risk, Bob Dylan

I am listening to the new Bob Dylan album which was released yesterday right now and couldn't wait until after I finished listening to blog about how much I enjoy being obsessed with Bob Dylan. The very word obsession implies some type of insatiability-- by I find it very satisfying. The album is bluesy... in the third song he sings about hell being his wife's hometown, which I like. My friends John Paul and April gave me the gift of Bob Dylan on Nov. 11, 2002. I had been officemates with them for years previously, completely mystified by their plane trips (yes, plane trips!) to go see Bob Dylan concerts (and only to go see Bob Dylan concerts). They talked about the dark nights and the light nights. John Paul was clearly involved in some pretty mafia live show trading. All of this finally piqued my interest enough that I decided I had to go see a concert, if only to watch them watch Bob Dylan. Prior to knowing (and loving) John and April, the extent of my Bob Dylan experience had been singing Blowin' in the Wind in french class in high school (not very satisfying). So... shortly after I got to Bloomington, we got tickets, someone burned me the aptly named Essential Bob Dylan, I got in the car, and drove to Pittsburgh to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing Bob Dylan live that night changed my life. I don't know quite how to explain it. He actually sang Blowin' in the Wind-- in a completely different, almost choral, ultra-harmonic arrangement with the band singing along. He played Shelter from the Storm. He played, and I listened, and I watched John Paul and April, and he played, and I could tell I was succumbing to the vulnerability of being in love with something very completely, which was a very foreign feeling for me. It was liberating to like something so much, with no hesitation. Granted, there is little risk in falling in love with Bob Dylan's music-- but still, I had never been a fan of anything before. After the show, a generous soul/complete unknown said to me, "Tonight was a very special night" and bought me a t-shirt because I think he could tell how starstruck I was. I might be the only person in the world who views becoming a Bob Dylan fan as an entree into the world of risk-taking, but the waltzy version of I See A Change Comin' On that he is singing to me right now reminds me that it is true.
I love him....Thank you JP and April, I love you....Safe travels and welcome home to Zora!

Addendum: For a hilarious review of the new disc and the continual link between Bob Dylan album release dates and apocalyptic events, click here.

The Little 500

Probably the most unique thing about Bloomington, IN, my old home town, is that it is also home to the greatest competitive collegiate cycling event in the whole world-- the Little 500. Like the Indy 500, the L5 is a race that involves several hours of turning left as fast as you can. In this case, it is on a bike, on a gravel track, with a bunch of maniacs trying to do exactly the same thing at the same time in the same place. It is extremely exciting, and pretty dangerous, and this past weekend my friend GP coached his team, the ChiO's (pronounced ky-O's) in the women's race and then participated as an expert commentator for the men's race on Saturday. Here he is, sporting pink hair according to his annual tradition of matching the team's jersey color. Back in the old days (last year), my friend Amanda and I would fill our travel coffee mugs with beer in the lab and stroll over to see the women's race on Friday afternoon-- it was glorious. Barack Obama even went! If you don't get the chance to go, you can at least get a glimpse of the history and drama of the race by watching the iconic film, Breaking Away, which includes a scene filmed out at one of the quarries, the other coolest thing about Bloomington which I blogged about a while back. For those curious and/or sentimental, Cutters won again this year!

(Obama photo credit: Marc Peters)

Heartbreak on Special

(click to enlarge)

Mi casa, su casa

I had my first real visitor at 501 (and 1/4) Mashburn Lane this past weekend. Shane Lewinski, my friend Darron's long time friend who I became friends with (a long time ago now too) came to visit me, in Arlington. That's right-- ante up old timers, it's time to buy plane tickets. GP and Darron are coming in May, and I am afraid my trailer will literally cook visitors in June, July, and August-- so if you are thinking of visiting, consider September/October when things cool off a little again. By chance, my boss was having a baby this weekend (ok, not literally by chance, but via a process well known to all of you). So Shane only got to sleep in the trailer one night, because we were pet-sitting in a normal size house the other two nights. After the initial shock wore off ("wow, it looks so much bigger in the pictures"), I think he loved it. Four stars, right Shane? Despite the luxury night-time accomodations provided by my bosses, we did spend much of our hang out time in the trailer, which has great acoustics, playing guitar. At one point, there were two guitars, a banjo, a harmonica (and harmonica necklace), and two people in the trailer-- kind of like a clown car of musical instruments. We also barbequed and hung out on the patio schaack/gilbert-style with a bunch of folks from my department and went to a Rangers game at the new stadium (2-0, Rangers lost-- but a fun visit to the ballpark nonetheless). Last but not least, Shane lent his fingers and patience to me for some songwriting on Saturday-- which I now know is much harder than most songwriters admit. It is still a work-in-progress, but I couldn't ask for a more fun weekend. Thank you so much for coming to see me Shane! You are beacon of visitation light!

Curler, Champion of Worldwide Freedom, and Theater Buff

I have been very remiss! It's been so long, I am not sure what to blog about first. Curling? Yes, I went curling for the first time last week and it was surprisingly fun. I now feel like I can buy a Weakerthans t-shirt without being a poseur (don't know the Weakerthans? go listen now, seriously, go...now). Passover? I enjoyed a delicious dinner with my dear friends Charlie, Marta, and Norma down in Austin on Saturday to celebrate the festival of freedom. It is the only jewish holiday I have ever observed, and I have to admit it is mainly because I love the food, but it was and always is a great time to get together and reflect on how lucky we are to enjoy the freedoms we enjoy and to think about how that could be extended to others who do not enjoy such freedoms. As a champion and practitioner of complete and total freedom, I feel like I should think about this at least once a year, and preferably while eating the bread of our affliction, bitter herbs, and the mortar of the temples built for Pharoah during enslavement (i.e. matzah, horseradish, and haroset)-- a tasty combination despite the agony associated with it. Last but not least, I went to a play last weekend! Yes, a play! It had been a long time, and I went to one recommended by my friend Amy's sister, Carrie, who is studying theater at UT-Austin. It was soooo unbelievably good-- I don't think I could describe it in a few short sentences because of all the cleverness, and layers, and cool feelings it emoted (is that a word?) If you want to see it, the play is called The Method Gun and the company that performed it is The Rude Mechanicals. It was terrific and I am now a theater buff. It doesn't take much to make me an aficionado if I like something, does it?

Little Brothers/Big Sister

Sunday I took my "little" and his actual little brother to the zoo. (Big Brothers/Big Sisters refers to kids and the their volunteers as "littles" and "bigs", respectively.) I am not completely clueless when it comes to kids because I have a younger sister (by 6 years) that I loved spending time with when I was little (and still love spending time with), but I am definitely almost completely clueless because these days I rarely hang out with kids, and my tendency is to treat them with the same ratio of seriousness:humor that I use with adults. I would say they take it pretty well, but onlookers often make a funny face when they see me talking completely straight-faced to a 3 year old, with no babyfication of the words. Anyway, we had a great time at the zoo, and Robert and Anthony especially liked the exhibits where you could interact with the animals, like the aviary pictured here and the petting zoo. Little did I know, the parking lot outside my office would provide petting zoo opportunities later that night. As I have mentioned, there are a lot of herpetologists in my department, which means people are almost always going to or coming from the field to collect lizards, snakes, and frogs (ostensibly for their research, but it seems like they also just really like collecting things). The troupe that went out this past weekend came across a motherless baby lamb in the middle of nowhere and decided they had to save it from certain starvation/predation alone in the wilds of Texas. I wish Robert and Anthony had been with me then, as spontaneous-unplanned-baby-animal-ogling-in-the-parking-lot is way more fun than the petting zoo.

PS. Betsy-- you'll get your very own blogpost soon, I swear!

Austin, TX is Heaven on Earth

Among several memorable events that occurred last week that might be fun to share (including photos AND audio of John Logsdon's very entertaining karaoke rendition of Suffragette City [click here for his blog]) was my first real visit to Austin, TX. I had driven through once before, but this time got to go down, hang out, and soak it all in for a couple of days. It is just as fantastic as you have heard-- a total paradise for a music lover like myself, to the point that it is probably a good thing I don't live there or I would likely get fired from my job. Glancing through the Weekly Scene equivalent, there are probably ~300 shows per week-- several of which are bands I know and love, and many others by bands I might grow to love if I had the chance to hear them play. Those of you who know how much I love optimizing, and how much I love live music, might be able to predict how much the idea of SxSW hurt my brain, but I am definitely looking forward to occasional trips for special shows. Just another reason to come visit....

The Republic of Texas

Texas 1895

After exploring Texas via kayak last week, I headed west by land with 2 of the 3 members of Jude the Innocent (see earlier post) to see what exactly the republic consists of, other than the sprawling Metroplex where I spend most of my time. The history of the state is actually fascinating, up to and including the controversial annexation in the 1840's and the legendary persistence of the right to (and constant threat of) secession. I have yet to find a good book to read about all this, but I'm on the lookout-- any recommendations? I recently saw No Country for Old Men as a bit of a primer for what lay in store once I got the chance to venture west and, minus the serial killer, it bore out pretty well. The landscape is very dry-- scrubby oaks, cactus, and some juniper; a bit of topography, but mostly very flat; oil derricks and windmills; many small towns that don't seem to have much reason for existing, at least not anymore. It was very interesting to me and made me feel much more like I was IN Texas than I ever feel while nestled here in the biology department. Among the representatives of the Texas herpetofauna that I got to see was the western diamondback rattlesnake (picture forthcoming) which, unlike many things, is just about as menacing as it sounds.

Another Pleasant Surprise

Texas has proved me wrong again! When I thought about moving here, it never occurred to me that there might be a possibility of paddling in this area.... but the other day I saw a lady in a parking lot with kayaks in her car. Whitewater kayaks, no less. I was surprised and, of course, introduced myself and asked if I could go with her some time (even though I have no gear or boat here). She said yes, had an extra boat and most of the required accoutrements... shortly thereafter I was on a river paddling to my heart's content! Turns out, there is a group here called the North Texas River Runners, a fair amount of recreational and competitive boating in the state (no real whitewater near here, unfortunately-- but some other areas of Texas appear to have plenty), and some very friendly folks willing to share paddling gear. Tonight I am going to a rolling session at a pool in nearby Grand Prairie to see if there is any chance I still have a hand roll-- keep your fingers crossed!

Friendly neighbor(s)

As you may have gleaned, Clement (my neighbor, right) and I spend a fair amount of time BBQing and hanging out on the patio between his house and mine. Most nights, our after dinner chatting is interrupted at some point by a visit from the opossum who lives in the attic of the big house, who emerges nightly for a foraging adventure. He comes across the roof, down the tree (pictured, left), and then scurries off into the darkness. His name is Jeremy-Pierre (that is what my parents wanted to name me if I had been a boy-- just another reason to thank heavens I am a girl). JP (as we like to call him) puts up with a lot from his curious non-marsupial neighbors (= us) during his nightly descent-- for instance, this photoshoot which was stressful enough to make his nose moist. We (= Clement), in turn, put up with what sounds like furniture movers in the attic when he is feeling frisky upstairs. In reality, of course, I have to put up with nothing and simply reap all the benefits of communal living and a wildlife safari, while enjoying my very own slice of heaven, warm and cozy, independent and animal-free, in the trailer.

Flashback to 1999

I am looking forward to a talk tonight being given by Richard Wrangham-- esteemed primatologist, author of numerous books, Harvard professor, etc. (pictured below, also with Daphne Onderdonk). When I saw the sign posted, I couldn't help but think back to my field season in 1999 when I worked in Kibale National Forest in Uganda, which just happens to be one of Wrangham's field sites as well. It was a stupendous summer. Western Uganda is gorgeous, the forest we worked in was beautiful and full of amazing wildlife, and the people I worked with were a blast (one of whom I lost track of-- Matt Becker, where are you?)
Not long into the summer, 4 people were killed in the park by rebels involved in the conflict in neighboring Rwanda. The threat to us was not significant, but all researchers in the park evacuated for about a week, and while hanging out at another field site, we really got to know each other well. When it was time to go back to Kibale, I promised one of them, Tammy, who was stationed by herself at Ngogo, that if she ever came to see us at the main station at Kanyuwara, I would throw a party for her. A few short weeks later, we got word through the almost-literal grapevine that Tammy was on her way. Armed with a guest list of about 12 world-class geeks, a transistor radio, a bag of balloons, and a few crates of beer, I fulfilled my promise to Tammy by throwing an impromptu shindig, the main entertainment at which was the temporary fulfillment of my summer-long desire to have a butt implants.
Post Addendum:
I went to the talk, and afterwards went up to him with a copy of the picture in hand.
Me: "Hi Dr. Wrangham, I am certain you don't remember me, but we met one night at a party at Kibale in Uganda about 10 years ago."
RW: " I KNEW I recognized you from somewhere!"
He graciously signed the picture-- HAPPY MEMORIES! Richard Wrangham
I'm such a groupie.
(Thanks for digging up the picture Amy!)

Home Improvement

This weekend was spent upgrading the trailer. There were two main projects: making my bed big enough to sleep in while fully extended and preparing the trailer for the heat of summer which, here in Texas, arrives about mid-March. The first endeavor was a great success! Clement helped me construct a pine box to semi-extend the reoriented bed, on his birthday no less, at about 9 pm no less, when I decided I had to go to Lowe's to get raw materials and address the problem. Clement, being from France, had never been to Lowe's, so I figured it was practically my duty as an American to take him there on a Saturday night to get supplies for a rash, DIY project-- it is our heritage afterall! A few hours later (I won't say how many), my new bed (AND shoe storage area) was complete!

Happy birthday to me!

The second project was not a complete success, as of yet. I need to order another space blanket to fully prepare the trailer (for summer, not for space travel-- although I like the idea). More on that next weekend!

Peking Duck

Last night, my new officemate Cheng took Assie (my labmate) and I out for dinner. Cheng is from Beijing, and arrived in Texas about a week ago to start a post-doc with my boss #1, Ellen. His trip here was his first time in a plane and his first time outside of China, and he was eager to find and share authentic cuisine from his homeland with us. Qi (pronounced chEE), a chinese grad student in my boss #2's lab, suggested we go to King Chinese BBQ (pictured). Among other things, we got duck-- which I hadn't eaten since I was in Vancouver on my 28th birthday several years ago. At the place we were last night, we got Peking duck, which actually means you get three dishes all made from the same individual. First, the roasted skin (served over non-pork pork rind like puffs, which you eat with a sweet sauce between pieces of delicious, steamed dough, like a little sandwich). Second, the minced duck meat, which you eat wrapped in lettuce leaves, and third, duck soup made with the carcass. All three, delicious.... and so efficient! You all know how I love efficiency. It was funny-- on the way to the restaurant, I asked Qi how he decided where we should go given that there are chinese restaurants all over the place in Arlington. He corrected me-- "No, no, there are really only two." A-ha, now I get it... two where you can get Peking duck.

The Heartless Bastards

Friday night I went into Ft. Worth to see a great band-- The Heartless Bastards. Ft. Worth is the most cowboy-esque city I have ever been to and has an entirely different feel than its behemoth neighbor, Dallas. Ft. Worth is so cowboy-y that even men going out on dates to non-country-western-style bars wear cowboy hats. Most of the stores have western fonts to their signs and double swinging doors like in Dodge City. Thus, it was only natural that the HB played a venue called the Longhorn Saloon, which opened in 1919 (it's the oldest drinking establishment still in business in the city and is located near the stockyards were cattle are still run twice daily). I probably should have ordered a whiskey, but I did not want to miss one second of the show, which was amazing.
Here is a picture of the lead singer, Erika (whose voice is like a tornado picking up speed) singing Into the Open, where she plays keyboards and guitar at the same time.

My first visitor, kind of

I hosted my first visitor here in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area on Monday! It was, of course, Geraint Parry-- Bloomington's premier cycling announcer and blogger, plant hormone signalling expert, inventor of the little-known but now well-loved art of "screaming karaoke", and my intrepid friend. GP has proven his adventurousness before by visiting me in places most people say they'll come visit me, but never do (e.g., Tanzania). In this particular case, the term "visit" might be kind of an overstatement, since he actually just had a layover at the airport and I drove there to meet him for lunch, but I think it counts. I encourage any other dear friends and family to give me a call if they, too, plan to be at DFW for more than an hour between flights so we can visit. I also promise not to jeopradize any future attempts at making connecting flights (he made it-- a bit sweaty-- but he made it!)

A photo to share: Me and GP, mid-duet, in my living room (New Year's Eve 2006/7, right after getting back from TZ).

When Does an Evening Stroll become a Wildlife Safari?

Two nights ago I went to the best place I have been so far in Arlington-- the River Legacy Park. It is a large protected area along the Trinity River on the north end of town where one can escape many (but not all) of the suffocating features of the suburban sprawl that is Arlington, TX. While walking along the paved trail, looking up at birds (the view of which is interrupted at regular intervals by airplanes taking off or landing at DFW), and occasionally peering down along the eroded banks of the the river itself, it is tempting to give up on any real chance to commune with nature...until you spot a bobcat.

The spectacular Lynx rufus.

Todd Snider Rules

Shortly after Chris Moore changed my life via karaoke, he changed my life by introducing me to the wonder that is Todd Snider. Then I changed Darron Luesse's life by dragging him to a concert, sight unseen, at which he also fell in love with Todd. The very next night, I changed Gillichi and Jeremiah's life by taking them to the second night of a two-day run at the Bluebird, because my own life had been so changed. Since then, I have seen Todd many times in many states, and usually not just states I happened to be in. Most of the time , I wear a homemade concert t-shirt on which I have used a sharpie to write "Todd Snider Rules" in big letters, referring to one of my favorite stories that he tells (here's a not-great-recording of the version of Rose City Blues during which I first heard him tell it in KY-- you can hear my whistle if you know it well). Sometime about 2 years ago, I changed my mom's life, and I am not sure if a bigger fan now exists. You want evidence?
Exhibit A. Todd's last concert t-shirt, like many hip concert t-shirts, featured the album art on the back of the shirt (his wife Melita Osheowitz's work). My mom is SUCH a fan, she insists on wearing the t-shirt backwards. Always. Not just at concerts.
Exhibit B. My mom was in a terrible car accident last spring, and we are pretty sure a significant reason she pulled through is because we piped Todd Snider into the ICU 24-7, then in the hospital room, then at my sister's house, throughout her recovery. She listened to 5 discs pretty much on repeat for about two and a half months, much to my sister's delight. Often, amidst her drug-induced stupor, she made up Todd-inspired ditties to chronicle her recovery-- my favorite had the line "Lord, don't want to be a junkie no more. Push that pain pill out the door!" But you have to drop the end of some of the words, like a old blues singer, all this while regularly hitting the button to deliver more pain medication through the IV....
And finally, Exhibit C. This is the email she sent me today after going to the concert last night, pasted in its entirety (for those of you wondering where my exuberance comes from, look no further):
"Sis, It was all that it could be and more... I LOVE Todd. He was soooo cute, It was a small loving crowd..he was warmly recieved. By paying 5 bucks a piece we were able to upgrade our seats....Second Row center. Perfffeeecccttttt. he played afew from Queer Peace. the rest were shout outs from the crowd. I did blow him kisses....Nancy and Chiara had a blast too. I can't wait for him to return...i wished he played here two niites in a row like he does in Indiana. I am almost ready to go on the road and follow HIM....I just don't know how to afford that!!
It was the best night of music since I heard him last."

In true Schaack form, she just told me over the phone that she is not washing the stamp off her hand-- like mother, like daughter.

Flashback to A Glorious Summer Day in July

Back in Arlington after a great trip out west.... It is funny to come home to someplace for the first time, especially after having the chance to visit so many friends from homes past. Today's flashback it to my most recent past home, Bloomington. Last summer five friends (bottom left: Austin, Amanda, me, Idelle, and Britt) celebrated our final hot season in Indiana by playing hooky and spending the day at the quarry.
Have you ever seen Breaking Away? If not, do. It is a great movie (required viewing for all IU students and bike race enthusiasts) in which the art of quarry-going is depicted very well. The giant holes that result from the extraction of limestone fill with rainwater over time and provide welcome relief from the suffocating heat and humidity, as well as a bit of a thrill because the gravel road entrances are plastered with Do Not Trespass signs threatening everything from imprisonment to almost-certain-death. We managed to avoid both, in addition to the most real threat-- getting towed.

Soundtrack for this post:
The Hold Steady has a song which nicely references these quarries (and maybe has a harpsichord in it?) called One for the Cutters. You can listen to for free at this website if you are interested by clicking on the play triangle button in the upper-right-hand corner of the screen.

California Dreamin'

I arrived in Santa Cruz yesterday to see some friends and continue working on my manuscripts. I am writing from "Science Hill" on the UCSC campus where two friends of mine, Susan Strome and Bill Saxton, have labs. Susan's lab works on these amazing, mysterious, little structures called P granules which she discovered about 20 years ago in C. elegans, the function of which is still being investigated. I am not much into idolatry, but I really look up to Susan. She is a deep and careful thinker, a methodical and observant scientist, an unbelievably good teacher, a great parent and spouse, and an interesting and fun person who continues to look for challenges and adventures. I can't think of anything she is not great at, including being a friend and mentor to me.

And as for a picture to share.... Yesterday, after working in a coffee shop all afternoon, I decided to take a walk and ended up stumbling onto the most wonderful road, through a beautiful canyon with a gorgeous river, farms and redwoods, sheep and lemon tree-filled gardens-- all stowed away in a little nook right off the center of town. Only in California! Among the many beautiful and interesting houses, there lurked a kindred spirit (albeit a deluxe version). So much to aspire to!

Working Vacation

Today's post comes from Pacific Grove, CA where I have been attending a conference on transposable elements (TEs). Most of you have heard me go on and on about them at some point or another, but for friends from other walks of life, it is probably worth explaining that TEs are mobile pieces of DNA that move around the genome. Most of the time they are unwelcome, but occasionally they modify the host genome in positive ways. They were discovered a long time ago by a rock star geneticist named Barbara McClintock. For about 50 years, they were largely ignored by most biologists-- relegated to the margins as "junk" DNA. Now we know that they comprise a huge fraction of the genome and are super dynamic. McClintock's contribution was eventually fully recognized and she won the Nobel Prize for her work. I could go on and on about them, but I will hold off for now-- preferring instead to share morsels of fascinating TE antics in the genome during future posts.

A picture to share: This part of CA is spectacularly beautiful-- so much so that no 2 megapixel picture can do it justice. On the way down here, however, my lab clan and I stopped in Santa Cruz for lunch and got to ooh and ahhh over the sea lions, a surprising number of which were performing what appeared to be some type of pre-coital water ballet. In an effort to keep this blog kid-friendly, here's a picture of them performing their other favorite activity.....

A Dose of Vitamin T

Last night I saw Todd Snider play to a small but packed house in Phoenix (an excellent venue called The Rhythm Room-- very intimate, very friendly, and a good, attentive crowd). It was bliss. For those of you unfamiliar with Todd's music and storytelling, deprive yourself no longer-- find the next, nearest show and go. For those of you who know and enjoy his perspective on all things as I do, check out the new song Stuck on the Corner via his myspace page, as it was a highlight of a heartfelt show.

Red (Alt-)Rock Mysticism

Today's post comes from the terrific little town of Tempe (pronounced temp-EE), just outside the terrible urban sprawl of Phoenix, AZ. I am here visiting one of my favorite people, John Gillece (pronounced gil-EE-chee) and learning to appreciate the desert. Yesterday, we went to Sedona to go hiking. Sedona is supposed to be a vortex, or at least there are supposed to be lots of vortices around that area. The only time I have ever been in a vortex previously was Danilo's Italian Eatery, just outside of Gainesville, FL. We went there for dinner one night (because it was supposed to be a vortex), but nothing strange happened. Nothing strange happened yesterday either-- except for the fact that I mentioned the band The BoDeans to Gillichi on the way there and, strangely, a BoDeans song came on the radio on the way home. I haven't heard a BoDeans song or uttered the name of the band since, I think, 1990. A musical vortex?

More important than a new home, a new department

Most of you know that for a long time, my department (there've been two) has served a kind of a second home for me. If this weren't so, it probably would be a bigger deal that I live in a 10x8 foot curvy box. Here at school, I have a fantastic office (2x the size of my house), with a futon (just in case), my banjo (see future post), and all the other accoutrements of a second home. Today I am giving a talk in my new department (much more intimidating than the defense, where you know it is the last-- this is the first!)
So, today's picture, straight from the hands of my new labmate Komal, another one of the many multi-talented people I have met since my arrival. I hope, in addition to learning lots, some of this artistic ability rubs off on me in the next 2 years. Isn't she amazing?

The tour

The T@b Trailer website has pictures of the interior of the trailer that I own that must have been taken with some type of fish-eye lense or involve some kind of optical illusion. Real photos of the interior of the trailer, taken by squeezing as far back into the corner as possible, don't make it look nearly as big. But it is cozy! And it is my own.

Here are pictures (from top to bottom) of the kitchen (note the shower-caddy-turned-dish-rack on the left), the library, and what I refer to as "the west wing" (aka bedroom, living room, and dining room):









































Pictures of the entertainment center, the terrace, views from the "bay" window, and the approximately 10 sq ft of floor space to follow in an upcoming post! What more does a girl need?

My Hood

So, lots of friends have written me to ask-- where do you park the trailer? I actually rent a patio from a woman who lives in CA, but owns a couple of rental properties right near the university. There are two guys that live in what I call "the big house" and I pay rent for the patio, storage space in the garage, the ability to plug in to an electrical outlet, and, most importantly, bathroom access. No, the schaackmobile does not have a toilet or shower inside. It came with a porta-potty, but until I get more comfortable with the idea of peeing in my living room, I will make use of the facilities in the big house whenever needed. Part of the agreement with the landlord is that I will take "minimal" showers, so I mainly shower at the gym (good motivation to work out). The other thing that people have asked me about the trailer is-- is it safe? I think so! I've got a lock on the hitch so no one can drive me away, I bought a little can of pepper spray that I am not afraid to use, and last but not least, as long as everybody abides by this sign posted at the apartment complex nearby, there should be no problems whatsoever!

Getting all Mavericky

Mascot-wise, I have had the honor of being a Titan, a Hustlin' Quaker, a Gator, a Hoosier, and now .... a Maverick. How serendipitous! The same year Tina Fey perfectly mocks Sarah Palin's over-embrace of John McCain's now-baffling nickname, I get to be a Maverick too! For some reason, the University of Texas-Arlington felt the need to trademark the phrase "be a maverick", so I am not sure this privilege is open to just anyone anymore. If you come visit, I'll try and pull some strings so you can get mavericky too.

Free at last, free at last

In addition to celebrating Martin Luther King today, and the spirit of service and the campaign for selflessness that has miraculously caught on in this country over the last few weeks, I can't help but share in the public ecstasy that is tomorrow's inauguration, even if I can't be in D.C. to witness it with my own eyes. The next four years could be the best of times and the worst of times, but I am so relieved to have intelligence and candor at the helm after 8 years of astonishing ethical and political squalor. On the night of the election, I wrote a kind of dorky poem for April and John Paul's election party (as I have done for the last 3 elections) expressing my hopes for the outcome. This was the first time those hopes were realized. Halleluah.
(Art credit: Ben Heine)

Dreamjob: Biologist by Day, Rockstar by Night

Last night I went to my first show in Dallas! Ahhh, the thirst-quenching effects of seeing live music aren't to be mis-underestimated.... The band: Jude the Innocent. Comprised in part by two guys from here in the biology department, Jeff and Jesse, and a civilian named Mike on the drums who you can't see here. They were the first of 4 bands playing at a venue in Deep Ellum, a neighborhood that seems to serve as the live music epicenter for the metroplex region, and they were by far the best. So good I had to wonder why they don't give up the biologist halves of their double lives and dedicate themselves fully to rocking. That's definitely what I would do if I could play roughly 2 and half times better than my current level, which would still put me far below these guys... but after two years of wood-shedding/post-docing, maybe I, too, can get my dreamjob.

Flashback to 1975

Several people have asked for interior shots of the trailer, but since it isn't going to take very long to give everyone (and by everyone, I mean the legions of, um... I mean 3, people following my blog) the complete tour, I am trying to create a bit of anticipation-- a cyber drumroll--by posting other pictures of life in TX and, today, posting a Flashback (not to be confused with Flashdance) picture that my dear sister, Genevieve, sent to me at Christmas....
Wearing an early, recyclable incarnation of the urban sombrero, clearly this baby (me, sitting on my father's lap on a neighbor's stoop in Old Montreal) is an aspiring nomad, daydreaming about growing up one day to be trailer-dwelling scientist.