I made this for the first time two months ago, when Husband was on night float and we were having all sorts of scheduling issues, so I was looking for quick dinners ready in 45 minutes or less. Husband rarely says when he likes something that I make unless I prod him for his opinion (though he is more than happy to offer up his $0.02 on his own accord when he does not like something I cook or bake), but this was a rare occasion where he spoke up stating that he liked dinner and hoped it worked its way into the regular rotation.
Since this is the first time I am posting a recipe with buttermilk, I'll share my trick. Apparently most people do not know that buttermilk can be easily frozen for use in cooking and baking (and honestly, why else would you be using it -- do people really drink it straight up?). Most recipes call for buttermilk in half or full cup increments, so whenever I need buttermilk, I buy a quart of it, use what I need, and then pour it in half-cup aliquots into little storage containers and stack them up in my freezer. Then, I always have some buttermilk handy -- just take it out of the freezer and move it to the refrigerator the morning before you plan on using it so it will thaw. I am always amazed at the number of people who either buy new containers, use a half cup, and throw out the rest, or do not make recipes which call for buttermilk because they think it is too wasteful since they don't know what to do with the rest!
Tex-Mex Pasta
Ingredients:
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 lb ground beef, ground turkey, or soy crumbles
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 green pepper, seeded and chopped
1 (15-ounce) corn kernels
1 (4-ounce) can diced green chilies, drained
1/2 lb dried macaroni or ziti (I use whole wheat)
1 (15-ounce) can diced tomatoes, undrained
1/2 cup tomato salsa
1 cup lowfat buttermilk
2 Tbsp chili powder
Directions:
Heat oil in a large skillet or dutch oven over medium high heat. Add beef/turkey/soy crumbles, onion, and green peppers, and cook until meat is cooked and onions are translucent, about 10 minutes.
Add corn, chilies, uncooked pasta, tomatoes, salsa, buttermilk, and chili powder, and stir thoroughly to ensure that all pasta is moistened.
Bring to a boil, then cover skillet with a tight-fitting lid, reduce heat to low and cook for 30 minutes.
A few weeks ago, I had a thesis committee meeting. I was also, simultaneously, trying to crank out some changes to a purification protocol, so lab was demanding quite a bit of my time. Knowing this, Husband lovingly told me that he would just stay out of my hair and play playstation.... but first, could I wash a few loads of his clothes, pick up his clothes from the dry cleaner, and oh right, get him a few things from CVS because he is too lazy to run next door?
Times like these, it seems like I have no control over my life -- my life is either run by my PI or my husband -- and I feel the need to break free and rebel. I could protest and not do laundry, but sending Husband to the hospital stark naked doesn't seem like a good option for anyone involved, so I choose to rebel with my cooking. Ninety-five percent of the time, I cook based on what he likes, meaning I constantly pass over foods that I like (i.e., anything based with lots of vegetables). For example, Husband LOVES stromboli. I don't. But, because he loves it so much, I find myself rolling out dough twice a month and make him a huge stromboli and I eat a tiny bite-sized stromboli with a huge pile of steamed broccoli... and Husband is, of course, quite pleased with this arrangement. But when I'm totally stressed out, that's when I disregard his wants and needs in the kitchen, and make something that I'm craving. I thought this was fantastic... Husband picked out the chicken I cooked him on the side, choked down what was on his plate, and breathed a huge sigh of relief when order returned to the world as I once again returned to stromboli-making the following night.
Moroccan Vegetables with Couscous Ingredients:
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
1 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp nutmeg
1/8 tsp ground cloves
1 tsp ground coriander
2 tsp cumin
1 tsp cayenne
4 carrots, peeled and cut into 1" pieces
2 russet potatoes, cut into large chunks (peel if you dislike potato skin)
1 butternut squash, peeled, seeded, cut into 1" chunks
2 cups chopped whole plum tomatoes with juices
2 small zucchini, cut into 1" pieces
1 15-ounce can chickpeas
1 cup couscous (I use whole wheat)
Directions:
In a large pot, heat olive oil over medium high heat.
Stir in the onion and cook until tender (approx. 3 minutes). Stir in spices and cook until aroma is released. Stir in carrots, potatoes, and squash, and toss to coat. Cook vegetables for 5 minutes. Stir in tomatoes and water. If necessary, add enough water so that vegetables are submerged. Bring to a simmer and cook for 20 minutes.
Stir in zucchini and continue to cook for 20 more minutes.
Stir in the chickpeas and season with salt and pepper if desired.
It seems fitting to start the recaps today, as six years ago this very day I heaved a giant sigh, rolled my eyes, and reluctantly agreed that Husband could give me the title of his girlfriend… provided that he didn’t actually tell anyone about it.
Of course, with a start like that, a bit of a back story probably helps.So, today, you’re getting the history of Julie & Husband.
We met the day after I moved into college my freshman year (he was a year ahead).Far from love at first sight, I thought he was a pompous jerk (and his opinions of me weren’t much better).However, I found out that he was a biology major and had spent the summer interning at a genetics lab… and already knowing that I may pursue a Ph.D. in research, I thought he could be useful to keep around (yes, I am conniving).We continued to run into each other through mutual activities (science department and music department), and not-yet-Husband even invited me along to a Chanukkah party (just as a friend) at a private university up in the middle of Maryland held by his childhood best friend.Several years later I found out that I was his third choice after two girls he was actually interested in dating were unable to attend, but anxious to escape studying for finals, I decided to go along, and after a night of frying latkes for everyone else in attendance, earned the nickname “Latke Julie” that his friends from high school continue to call me to this day.
Interested in another girl at the time (and I got to hear all about how wonderful and amazing she was), Husband was just interested in pursuing a friendship with me (but I still thought he was a pompous jerk, so I kept my distance).He would leave long-winded messages on my answering machine, complaining about how I never called him back, and upon hearing one of these, a friend who lived down the hall promptly declared that someday, we would wind up married.I laughed and laughed and said I had much better taste in men… Kenny, if you’re out there, I guess after just a few months, you knew me far better than I knew myself.
My sophomore year, we wound up in the same cell biology course.During the week of midterms, my roommate was sick and rater than study for midterms, like any good friend, I had moved into her hospital room and was staying with her and keeping her company as her parents were unable to make the trip out to D.C.While in class, I mentioned that I was not feeling very prepared for the upcoming organic chemistry exam, and Husband (having taken the class the previous year), offered to help me out.The rest, of course, is history.After asking me out a mere nine times, I finally agreed to ONE date (just to get him to leave me alone).One date led to another… and then a month after our first kiss, I finally, reluctantly, agreed to the official title of “girlfriend”.
Four years later, he proposed, and a year and a half after that, we were married.And in case you were wondering, my initial judgment was dead on – I still think Husband is a pompous jerk (and he probably still doesn’t think much better of me!).
This year, toward the end of Thanksgiving dinner hosted by my husband's aunt and uncle, my husband's aunt's (through marriage) niece showed up to visit, along with her six year old daughter. Technically speaking, she is not at all related to my husband, but since she lives with my husband's uncle and is at almost every family gathering, she has become, in essence, a cousin.
The cousin and her mother were unable to attend our wedding, and thus we had not seen them since... quite possibly, last Thanksgiving. She was well aware of the fact that we were married now, from the big deal of her great-aunt and uncle shopping for formal attire and spending the weekend away, but had not processed the fact that Husband was now a doctor.
Upon realization of this, her eyes suddenly lit up. "OH!" she gasped, "He's a doctor! So THAT'S why Julie married him!"
Alas, now I can even get snarky comments from a six-year-old regarding why I married my husband. Also, what, exactly, are they teaching children in kindergarten these days? Back in the good old days, every boy in my class wanted to be a fireman or a policeman. Now, do they all stand up and say "When I grow up, I want to be a doctor, so I can land me allllllthe honies!"
For Thanksgiving this year, I tried out a pumpkin fudge recipe from Southern Living. After reading the recipe reviews, however, I made quite a few changes to the recipe -- doubled the amount of pumpkin, doubled the amount of spices (and used my own spice mix, rather than 'pumpkin pie spice'), lessened the amount of white chocolate, and used my own homemade marshmallow creme rather than store bought fluff from a jar (which came out quite fantastic, and has the added benefit of containing no preservatives or random chemicals). Now, the one problem with this recipe is the fact that I do not own a candy thermometer, so I had no way of knowing when the mixture reached 234F. I guessed using the 'soft-ball' stage (add a few drops of the mixture to cold water and if it immediately forms soft balls in the cold water, it is appropriately at the correct stage). Mine wound up not quite hot enough and was a bit messy to cut as a result, but from a taste standpoint, received rave reviews and many requests for the recipe.
Prepare marshmallow creme. In a large bowl, combine egg whites, 2 cups of corn syrup, and salt; beat with mixer in high speed for 10 minutes or until thick. Add in confectioner's sugar and beat on low speed until blended. Beat in 1 Tbsp vanilla extract until blended. This makes way more vanilla extract than needed for this recipe -- so my advice is to either make a double batch of fudge, or store the excess marshmallow fluff in the freezer (not in the refrigerator -- it will not last like normal jarred marshmallow creme since there are no preservatives).
Stir together the first 6 ingredients in a large saucepan over medium-high heat and cook, stirring constantly, until the mixture comes to a boil. Cook, stirring constantly, until a candy thermometer registers 234F or the above described soft-ball stage technique.
Remove pan from heat and cool to lukewarm (not in original recipe instructions, but important to prevent chocolate from seizing). Stir in white chocolate, 1 1/2 cups of previously made marshmallow creme, walnuts, and 1 tsp vanilla extract until well blended.
Pour into an aluminum foil-lined 8-inch square pan. Let stand 2 hours or until completely cool; cut fudge into small squares.
I cannot possibly believe that it has only been 6 months, and not 6 years, since our wedding. I don't know if this is a good thing (we're comfortably settled in and have a happy little routine down pat) or a bad thing (we're getting sick of each other already?). Or, perhaps, come to think of it, the feeling like we have been together for so long may have something to do that next week would mark our six year dating anniversary, if we were to still be celebrating it.
Either way, now that six months have come and gone, and my pictures are (mostly) organized and the requests keep rolling in, I vow to start actually offering up some pictures of my wedding, for those of you who have been patiently waiting for half a year.
Knowing my tendencies for extreme over-organization, it probably doesn't surprise you that I manage our finances down to the penny. MS Money is my best friend (okay, fine, after you two, Mark and Shannon), which is why I have found it extraordinary frustrating that since October XX, strangely the EXACT day that I got a letter in the mail as a [Bank] shareholder regarding its merger with craptastic [Other Bank] , I have been unable to access the "Account Download" feature of my [Bank] account to import the information into Money -- instead, I just receive an error message.
Yes, of course, I can do it by hand (and have done so accordingly). But this takes extra time, leaves me more prone to be off by a penny here or there requiring even more time to go back and check every entry, and my entries lack the "E" mark, stating that they have been electronically cleared (and yes, this bothers me).
As such, yesterday I finally bit the bullet and called [Bank] to find out what's going on. Has the account download service been discontinued at the hand of [Other Bank], or is there just some sort of error that they have been too lazy to repair in a timely fashion? Of course, nobody could answer this over the phone, and I was told to submit a message electronically. Fine, done and done.
This morning, I received an email notification that I had a reply, and I needed to sign into my [Bank] account to read the reply. I signed in, clicked on the "Messages" section... and received the following statement:
The service you are trying to access is temporarily unavailable. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you. Please try again later or call 800-XXX-XXXXX, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for further assistance."
An error message that I cannot access the message regarding the error message I receive in lieu of downloading my account statement. Oh, [Bank], what are you doing to me?
Kelly caught mention of my buffalo chicken dip, and requested the recipe. As such, I thought I would dedicate a post to our gameday foods -- that which we make on the rare occasion when we actually have people over to watch football. You see, as you all know, I bleed black and gold for the Pittsburgh Steelers. My husband, on the other hand, is a Philadelphia Eagles fan. Unfortunately, we reside in Redskins Nation. Easy solution, you say -- get the Dish Network and the NFL Sunday Ticket! Ah yes, my dream come true. Every single NFL game brought directly into my living room every Sunday.... what more could a football-loving girl possibly want?
But, you see, my condo made a deal with the devil (aka Comcast), and we automatically get Comcast cable and pay for it through our Condo Association fees. As my husband is over $250,000 in debt from medical school, no matter how much we really really wanted it, we just could not justify paying for BOTH Comcast AND the Dish Network, and alas, no NFL Sunday Ticket for us. As such, we are at the mercy of the local networks to decide which games we see each week.
Last Sunday, however, all the planets and stars must have been properly aligned, because at 1:00, we were able to watch the Eagles tie (TIE?!? TIE!?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THIS DID TO MY SUICIDE POOL?!?!?!?) the Bengals, and at 4:15, we saw the Steelers beat the Chargers. Since the opportunity to watch both games, back-to-back, is so rare indeed, we held a football open house and invited over all our football watching friends for a whole day of football and food. And this is a sampling of what I served.
Buffalo Chicken Dip Ingredients:
4 chicken breasts
2 bricks of cream cheese
1 large bag of shredded cheddar cheese
1 large bottle of hot sauce (Crystal or Frank's Red Hot)
Directions:
Boil chicken breasts in a large pot of water. The water used for boiling makes excellent chicken stock for soup, FYI, should you be of the chicken-soup consuming variety.
Shred boiled chicken breasts, easily done by hand, but I toss mine in the food processor to speed up the process.
Combine chicken, cream cheese, cheddar cheese, and hot sauce in a large bowl and mix as well as possible.
Cover with plastic wrap and microwave for 5 minutes. Stir well and return to microwave until completely melted
Serve with sliced baguette or crackers.
Layered Taco Salad
Ingredients:
2 cans of refried beans (plain, onion, garlic... any flavor of choice)
3 cans of chili (I make my own vegetarian chili instead using soy crumbles and homemade seasoning)
large bag shredded mexican blend cheese
large container sour cream
package of taco seasoning
lettuce, shredded
toppings of choice -- onions, tomatoes, salsa, jalapenos, olives, guacamole, etc.
Directions:
Build layers in a deep baking dish designed for roasts or casseroles.
Spread cans of refried beans across bottom of dish.
Next, spread chili across bottom (chili can be heated first to make it easier to spread).
Sprinkle half a bag of cheese on top of chili.
Add the taco seasoning to the container of sour cream, and spread the mixture across the layer of cheese. Keep the layer as thick as possible to avoid dragging the layer of cheese.
Sprinkle the remaining cheese on top of the sour cream.
One of the many reasons why my experiences in the lab are rather unique has to do with the gender makeup of my coworkers. Unlike the majority of labs around here, we are almost all female. While the PIs are male, all the post-docs, all the grad students, and all the technicians, save one who will be leaving at the end of the month, are female. This is extraordinarily rare, and I am quite positive that I will never again encounter this situation in the rest of my biochemistry career. There are many labs in the biochemistry department here that are all female, most have a one or two women… but as far as the people in the lab, doing the actual research… to be all female? It’s unheard of in science.
A very common topic of discussion among women scientists is, of course, gender discrimination in the workplace. Working in a female-driven laboratory, this is, of course, something that I do not experience. There is no “old boy’s club”, the male post-docs are not favored over the females, and obviously, our PIs believe that female scientists are every bit as competent in the laboratory as males, or they would not have hired them (clearly, it is not a charity case of “I better hire a female to round out the laboratory). While this obviously is a great thing for the time being, sometimes I wonder if it is going to wind up being an ugly slap in the face when I leave my cozy little gender-neutral laboratory and enter the big male-dominated world of biochemistry.
Case in point, last week Candid Engineer posted an amazing cake she baked. Amongst all the praise and drool, Arlenna left a comment that caught my attention:
“I wish I could bring things like that to work, but as the youngest of only three female faculty members in my department, I don't know how constant offerings of baked goods might affect their pre-tenure unconscious impressions? Maybe good overall but possibly bad 'good woman in an apron'-type feelings...”
I was blown away. As I’ve stated before, I bake for the lab all the time… it’s like my own personal taste group. This is what we, as a lab full of women, do. One of the other post-docs also bakes on a regular basis – between the two of us, there is almost always some sort of baked good for our morning lab meetings. Another post-doc contributes brownies when she is feeling particularly stressed. And it’s not just a female thing – one of the male PIs also brings in homemade baked goods and leaves them sitting in the lab for anyone to munch on. To me, this was just… normal. Not having to contend with thoughts of gender discrimination in my own lab, it never ever crossed my mind that perhaps, outside of my own lab, bringing in baked goods on a regular basis would lower one’s opinion of me as a scientist, because in science, one must be All Science, All the Time, and Susie Homemaker and Susie Scientist cannot coexist.
This week, I have a thesis committee meeting. Back when I was scheduling my first committee meeting, my PI informed me that serving on committees is something that one does not because they have to, but generally because they want to help a student and provide educational insight. It can take up a significant amount of time to serve on multiple committees, and he always appreciates it when food is involved with the meetings. This makes sense – after all, just like graduate students, I’ve seen faculty members elbow their way to the front of the line for free food at seminars. So, for previous committee meetings, I’ve come armed with homemade baked goods. But now this has me wondering… am I giving off the woman-in-apron vibes that Arlenna described? If my presentation sucks, are my committee members going to be thinking that I should have spent more time preparing, and less time baking? Or worse yet, if my presentation is fine, but my science sucks and my homemade baked goods are tasty, will they be thinking that I should get the hell out of the lab, and back into the kitchen where I belong?? Is the best way to a Committee Member’s Good Side through his stomach, as suggested by my PI, and they’ll be too busy noshing to even think about any of this? Should I forgo the homemade baked goods, and pick something up premade, as to appear like I didn’t put too much effort into it? Or would that seem absurd, as both of the PIs from my lab are on my committee and they both know that I bake already?
I’ve already wasted my morning putting enough thought into the Serious Science versus Baked Goods Debate of 2008, so now I turn it over to you while I finish my presentation. Discuss.
Much more than cooking, I really enjoy baking. However, I don't really have much of a sweet tooth -- I'm more than content with one of something. Husband can easily eat his way through an entire batch of cookies in one day, as he lacks self control, but knowing that fact, he never wants to keep baked goods (or any junk food) in the house. And frankly, even though one cookie is more than satisfying, if they're there... then I'll find myself munching, too. This is why my lab is wonderful. It's like an automatic built-in group of consumers and taste-testers. Not only are they happy to eat whatever I bring them, but they also give me their honest opinions on what I make, because they know that even if they don't like something, I won't be insulted (it's not like I'll stop baking).
This was a new recipe that I tried out and I wasn't quite sure how it would go over. I don't really like chocolate, but I loved the pumpkin flavor (and wished there was less chocolate). Husband loves chocolate and not so much pumpkin, so he wished I had made just straight up chocolate brownies. But the neutral lab test group that likes both chocolate and pumpkin? They deemed the pumpkin swirl brownies a success.
A note on the recipe -- the densities of the chocolate batter and the pumpkin batter are completely different, which makes it difficult to swirl. If I were making these again, I would probably stop and swirl a bit between the first layers and chocolate and pumpkin batter (the recipe calls for layering chocolate/pumpkin/chocolate/pumpkin), and I think I would divide the oil, and add 1/8 cup oil to the chocolate mixture and 1/8 cup oil to the pumpkin mixture, rather than adding it all to the pumpkin. However, I haven't tested this out myself, so try at your own risk. Either way, the taste was fine, and it would really just be to get a bit more 'swirl', which isn't a necessity (and, a scientist, I'm used to repeating this dozens and dozens of times until they work perfectly, so I do the same thing in the kitchen).
Pumpkin Swirl Brownies adapted from Martha Stewart Ingredients:
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups sugar
4 large eggs
1 tbsp vanilla extract
1 1/4 cups pumpkin (I used my own fresh, canned is fine)
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9-inch square baking dish. Line bottom of pan with parchment paper; grease lining.
Melt chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl set over a pan of simmering water, stirring occasionally until smooth.
Whisk together flour, baking powder, cayenne, and salt in a large bowl; set aside. Put sugar, eggs, and vanilla in the bowl of a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and beat until fluffy and well combined, 3 to 5 minutes. Beat in flour mixture until just combined (do not over mix).
Divide batter between two medium bowls (about 2 cups per bowl). Stir chocolate mixture into one bowl. In other bowl, stir in pumpkin, oil, cinnamon, and nutmeg.
Transfer half of chocolate batter to prepared pan smoothing top with a rubber spatula. Top with half of pumpkin batter. Repeat to make one more chocolate layer and one more pumpkin layer. Work quickly so batters don't set.
With a knife, gently swirl the two batters to create a marbled effect.
Bake until set, 40 to 45 minutes. Let cool in pan on a wire rack. Cut into 20 squares.
I have a secret confession to make. One of my biggest concerns of my upcoming long-distance marriage is not that I will pine away in misery without my husband... but that I will become so used to life without him that I will find him annoying and a general pain in the tush when forced to live with him again.
You see, I assimilate myself to my current living conditions absurdly well. I'm like a regular chameleon. Homesick? Not in my dictionary. The first time I was shipped off to overnight camp at the ripe old age of 8, everyone around me was homesick and cried, so I cried, because I thought that was what you were supposed to do at overnight camp. Once the counselors explained that you didn't have to miss home, if you didn't actually miss your home, and you were allowed to have fun... well then heck, I was sold. Home is where I hang my hat, whether I'm there for a week or a year.
Tonight is Husband's last night on Night Float service, which means that he'll be back to a normal schedule of working during daylight hours. But between you and me... well, I've adapted. And frankly, it's been kind of nice to be the Queen of the Castle. When I want peace and quiet, it's blissfully quiet, which is something I never, ever get when Husband is around -- he has to have the TV and radio on at all times, and I hate it. When I do want to turn on the TV, I get to control the remote and watch what I want, which I never get to do when Husband is around. I haven't had to listen to Philadelphia sports radio once since he's been on Night Float! And to get to spread out at night and actually sleep without someone pushing me out of bed... it's been quite delightful.
Now, this isn't to say that I don't love my husband or want to spend time with him, and all of these problems could easily be solved by expanding from our little one bedroom condo to something with a bit more space. And of course, going a few weeks is quite different than going a few years living without someone.
But for me, these past few weeks have confirmed my suspicions that moving back in together are probably going to be far harder than moving apart.
I've been getting a lot of traffic to my blog recently from individuals googling for how to ask individuals to serve on their thesis committees. While I don't have genius advice for this, more so than I found it was helpful to attach a brief one page background of the research on which I was currently working and an outline of my current thesis aims so that they had an idea of what I was doing, and why they would be relevant to sit on my thesis committee, I do have a nifty little tidbit for organizing committee meetings. Meet... Doodle Calender, the perfect tool for organizing any sort of group meeting.
I'm not sure how committee meetings are organized elsewhere, but around here, my PI would give me a list of dates that worked for him, and I would email the rest of my committee members the list of dates, and then spend the next several weeks emailing back and forth to try and finagle down one single timepoint that worked. Then, one day, my PI discovered Doodle Calender.That is a screenshot from my Doodle Calender. The blurred-out area is the names of my committee members, which they each entered. Across the top are dates which my PI had told me he would be available, so I selected them as options for the meeting. I then emailed out the link for the calender to my committee members, and they were able to sign in to the calender and mark off what times they could make the meeting. If the times they are available change, they can go in at a later date and change it on their own. When I need to pinpoint a time for my meeting, all I need to do is look at what column has the most green "OK" marks, and I have my date and time selected for me. And I don't have 40 e-mails through which to search.
This is one of Husband's favorite dinners... and I'm happy to go along with it, because it's quick, easy, and since I use the Morningstar Farms burger soy crumbles faux ground beef, it's meat free, so I don't have to cook any meat on the side (who would have thought that "favorite' and "meat free" would go together coming from Husband?). The original recipe, from Rachael Ray, calls for ground chicken breast, and states that it is available in the "packaged meats case". I, personally, have never heard of ground chicken breast (aside from when I boil chicken breast and grind them up myself in my food processor when I make Husband buffalo chicken dip when we have people over for football watching), but then again, I am kind of out of the meat-purchasing loop, so perhaps it is more common than I think. If you can't find it, you could easily substitute in ground beef, since that's what the soy crumbles are generally used as a substitute for, or ground turkey... basically, any ground meat or meat substitute works for this recipe. You could also add in any other vegetables lying around -- I've thrown in a pepper, some mushrooms (not that this crowd seems to like them), etc.
Mexican Lasagna Recipe altered from Rachael Ray
Ingredients:
2 tbsp olive oil
1lb ground beef/chicken/turkey or meat substitute
2 tbsp chili powder
2 tsp ground cumin
1/2 red onion, chopped
1 15-ounce can black beans, drained
1 14-ounce can stewed tomatoes, drained
1 15-ounce can corn, drained
4 (12 inch) tortilla wraps
2 cups shredded Cheddar or pepper jack cheese (or combination)
toppings of choice (scallions, salsa, sour cream, hot peppers, guacamole, etc)
Directions:
Preheat the oven to 425F.
Preheat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add 2 tbsp of olive oil and add meat or meat substitute and season with chili powder, cumin, and red onion. Brown the meat, about 5 minutes. Add the stewed tomatoes, black beans, and corn. Stir to combine, and heat for 2-3 minutes.
If you have a round, 10-12" baking dish, coat the bottom with a little olive oil or cooking spray. Otherwise, use a shallow rectangular dish (like for a regular lasagna). I happen to have a perfect round dish that fits the tortillas perfectly, so I'm going to show you that method. If you don't have a round dish, cut the tortillas into quarters and overlap them to layer, like lasagna noodles. Otherwise, proceed as follows. Add just a small amount of the meat/bean mixture, and add a tortilla on top. Then pile on roughly 1/3 of the meat/bean mixture, top this with 1/3 of the cheese, and then place a tortilla on top. Repeat with more of the beans, more cheese, and another tortilla, and repeat again. End with a tortilla, and a light sprinkling of cheese on top.
Arlenna at ChemicalBiLOLogy tagged me for the "6 Random Things" Meme. Now, you may remember that I already did this same meme back in September, so we struck up a deal -- I would post six more random things about me, as long as I didn't have to tag anyone else and perpetuate the meme cycle.
So, here goes... more random trivia about your favorite disgruntled Ph.D. student!
I am extremely left-handed. I use my left hand for everything except holding my toothbrush. One of my biggest fears is that I am going to severely injure myself someday at the fault of non-left handed kitchen utensils... mainly my evil vegetable peeler.
Since I don't really drive, I don't get road-rage... but I do get sidewalk-rage. I really, really, really hate people who do not give pedestrians the right of way when pedestrians have the little walking-man flashing indicating that the pedestrian can go, particularly when it is raining/snowing/hailing/some form of foul weather and the pedestrian is stuck outside, and the person in the car is not. I also really hate it when drivers are lazy shits and leave their car blocking the sidewalk in an ally because they can't pull up an extra 4 feet and walk the extra 5 steps, causing the pedestrian to have to squeeze between the tightly parked cars on the street, just because you had to block the sidewalk with your car. One of my other biggest fears is that I am going to severely injure myself by getting run over by a car walking to or from the lab one day, since there seems to be a near miss on a very regular basis.
When I was 5 years old, I started taking piano lessons and continued through graduating high school. At the end of third grade, I started playing flute, and gradually added on oboe, clarinet, mellophone, and french horn. At the end of high school, I swore I was going to be done with music, but at "freshman orientation" for my college (which was done in the middle of the summer, and included parents) my parents spotted the table for the music department, with a giant sign overhead advertising scholarship, and immediately simultaneously elbowed me to the table. Thus, I played french horn and mellophone for four years of college in university band, wind ensemble, basketball band, and a year of orchestra... and earned quite a bit of scholarship money (more than enough to make up for all those years of music lessons). Despite owning a piano in my little condo and still having a french horn, I have not touched either since graduating, however. I think I have been music-ed out, though someday it would be nice to pick it up again.
I really enjoy being crafty (of the arts-and-crafts variety, not being sly and cunning). I silkscreened my own wedding invitations, I've been knitting and crocheting since I was 5, I always handmake my own holiday cards, etc. My family and family-in-law is convinced that I should drop out of graduate school and just do crafty things full time. Lately, I've started to think that maybe they are right... at least, I'd be a whole lot happier!
I have disproportionally small feet in comparison to my height. I'm 5'7, and wear size 5.5 to 6 shoes. Though, since shoes are often picked over in smaller sizes because they carry fewer of them, I have a lot of 6.5 to 7's in my closet, and I just stuff them full of extra padding to make them fit on my foot and not slip as best as possible.
I am really, truly disappointed that Proposition 8 passed in California. So, so unbelievably upset. While I believe in respecting others, and their opinions, first and foremost, and I will not put down anyone for supporting the ban for their own personal reasons, it just makes me so very sad that this kind of discrimination exists. I am disappointed at the kind of world in which we live. At my own wedding, a few of our friends came up to me and said that they hoped that someday they would have the right to have a wedding of their own, and that my husband and I would be able to attend, but this was a big step backwards towards this happening. It makes me so sad that some of the kindest people that I know may always be treated as second class citizens.
Before I dive right in with the recipes, I thought I'd start with a little background regarding the type of eating in the Disgruntled Household. For starters, regardless of how many hours I spend in the lab, I am a regular slave to the stove. Despite growing up with a mother who refused to cook and only ordered take-out, Husband somehow finagled me into cooking for him a mere year into dating, and I have been doing so every night for the past 5 years. Weekends when we are around and not running off to the hospital/lab I cook breakfasts, I always pack our lunches, and I cook dinner every night -- I cannot remember the last time we ordered in (it has been years), and we eat out maybe once a month at most (and always with friends as a social activity, never alone as an avoidance of cooking).
That said, cooking for us is a bit of a... challenge. You see, I don't eat meat. Husband does, and prefers it with as many meals as possible. I obviously don't have time to cook two totally separate dinners, nor am I interested in roasting a chicken and winding up with just a plate of broccoli for myself, so I'm continually looking for things which can be altered easily to add or subtract meat from parts of the meal. Husband and I do eat fish, but within the past year, I've discovered that the scent of raw fish is likely one of my migraine triggers, so I can no longer bring fish into my kitchen and cook it myself. Neither of us keep Kosher so shellfish would be an option, but Husband is allergic to shrimp (and is quite sad about it), and is not particularly fond of scallops, so both of those easy options go out the window. So, as you can see, we're a complicated pair.
Since he's currently on Night Float, for the time being, we're all about Super Quick Dinners. He has to be out the door by 6:30pm, so I have to make whatever is super fast. I thought I'd start out with one of my all-time favorite recipes, which I don't make often, since we rarely eat pasta (and when we do, it's usually in the form of homemade spinach lasagna). It's also super easy, and fast, so as long as you like onions, mushrooms, and goat cheese, you have no reason not to try this out as a quick weeknight dinner.
Ziti with Caramelized Onions and Portobello Mushrooms Ingredients:
1 tablespoons butter/margarine/spread substitute of choice
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 onions, sliced
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp sugar
1 pound portobello mushroom caps, halved and sliced into 1/4 inch slices
3 tbsp parsley
1/4 tsp black pepper
1 lb ziti (we use whole wheat)
3-4 oz soft goat cheese (I use Montrachet), crumbled
Directions:
In a large frying pan, melt butter and 1 tbsp olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the onions, 1/2 tsp of the salt, and the sugar and cook, stirring frequently, until the onions are well browned, 20-30 minutes. Remove from the pan.
In the same pan, add the mushrooms and 1/4 tsp of the salt and cook, stirring occasionally, 8-10 minutes, until tender. Return the onions to the pan, add the parsley, the remaining 1/4 tsp salt, and the pepper.
In a large pot of boiling water, cook the ziti until just done, about 12 minutes. Reserve 1/2 cup of the pasta water and drain. Toss the ziti and the pasta water with the mushroom mixture, the remaining 1 tbsp oil, and the crumbled goat cheese.
Serves: 4-6 (For the 2 of us, we get 2 dinners served with a vegetable or salad, plus 4 lunch containers, out of this recipe).
As you may have noticed if you've clicked over at some point in the past day or two, I've been trying to roll out a new blog design. I've been working on it during my overnights in the lab (what, you thought I was reading articles at 3am?) and it looked great in my test blog, but apparently it doesn't want to cooperate in my actual blog and is still pulling some formatting from my previous layout and I can't figure out how to get rid of it (CSS, I hate you). I just "upgraded" to the new CSS-required widget-thingie Blogger updated layout, from my previous safe-zone of HTML coding, so if anyone is a CSS whiz and can offer up their $0.02, it would be much appreciated, because I'm sick of looking at it (if it looks perfect in the test blog, then when I copy it here, it should look the same... right?!?!).
Let me know how everything else looks from your browser -- in a disgruntled fit one day, I completely uninstalled Internet Explorer from my computer, so I can only check things out in Firefox, so I have a sneaking suspicion IE is going to screw me over here... (also, if you think it stinks, feel free to tell be to bring back the old layout). I've also joined Twitter and put the link in the sidebar, so if you Twitter too, add me!
Also, I've decided to broaden my posting horizons. My life has become so one-dimensional with all graduate school, all the time, so even if I don't have time to do anything else... it's time to occasionally write about something else. Back after my wedding, several people asked if I would be willing to post more pictures. I kind of let them slide to the back burner, because I didn't really want to think about anything wedding related, and was absorbed by my research, but now I need to think about something other than research, and another request has come up again... so expect to see some wedding pictures. Also, Kim is starting a recipe exchange, and since Husband suckered me into cooking for him every night a year into our relationship, I'm a regular slave to the stove now. No, it's not science related, per se... but all scientists have to eat, right?
But, don't worry. I'm sure there will still be an overload of whiny, grumbly, ranty posts for the next several years regarding my lack of laboratory progress.
Tonight, the Philadelphia Phillies won only their second World Series in 125 years, ending the Philadelphia championship drought. The whole "we've gone the longest in consecutive sports seasons without a championship" whine never really did much for me, since for the most part, I dislike Philadelphia sports fans, but over the 7 years I've been with my husband, I've definitely developed a soft spot in my heart for the Phillies. My grandfather need not worry, I was born into a Yankees family, and will die a fan, but there's no reason why I can't support a National League team as well. And if I'm going to be forced to live out the majority of years of my life in Philadelphia, I may as well like ONE of the teams there... and well, my father instilled in me a loathing of the Flyers, and while I'm content when the Eagles do well, the people of Philadelphia seem to think there is some ginormous Steelers-Eagles rivalry, and I get booed and cursed at and called all sorts of derogatory things when I wear my Steelers attire, which doesn't do much for me. But the Phillies? The Phillies I like.
And tonight, the Phillies won the World Series. And instead of watching and celebrating with my husband, I watched by myself, because my husband is on night float, meaning he works every night from 7pm-8am. So, apparently, as his new wife, I am missing the Most Important Event in his lifetime, as he phrased it. Because my relatively unemotional husband, who was not overly excited nor shed tears of joy on our wedding day, just called me after watching Brad Lidge throw the final strike of the game, and was in tears.
Tears. Crying. Because watching the Phillies win the World Series was the Most Important Event of his lifetime thus far. I mean, hey, I was neither jumping up and down nor crying at our wedding, but I also don't cry for sporting events. There were no tears when the Steelers won the Superbowl.
And so, dear Husband, if the Phillies winning is the Most Important Event, then let me ask you this: once you are done with night float, and return to your regularly scheduled sleeping schedule, will Cole Hamels be the one keeping you warm at night?
It is 6am and I am in lab. I am not in lab because I arrived early this morning (as would be the norm for me), but rather, because I have not yet left after arriving a bit before 6am yesterday. And, of course, exactly like the overnight that has happened once a week for the past 5 weeks, this was unplanned, so I have an entire day of experiments to complete today. I'm fine with the 24 hours of work. But this weekly "unexpected" (though I suppose by now, I should expect it -- I just don't know what day it will be coming) 36 hour day, followed by 12 hour days every other day of the week, is starting to wear me thin.
I've reached my point where I'm damn near ready to throw in the towel. I know that every student goes through this at some point -- I am by no means looking for pity and saying that I am in some awful situation here -- but it has just reached a new level of frustration to watch students the same year as me waltz into the lab at 10am and back out the door at 5pm, and have first author papers already. Meanwhile, I am here pulling weekly overnight shifts, and have absolutely no data that is anywhere near publication quality. I have mounds and mounds and mounds of shit data with great looking controls, but that doesn't really help me out. And it's so frustrating because I feel like I can't give any more to make this work. I already put in more hours than any other student. I'm not saying that I'm better or a harder worker, it's just that my project requires it, and the projects of other students don't require these hours. I don't know if they would be willing to stay overnight every week if they were doing the same thing as me... some probably would, and I know some would not. But I am giving all I have to give, and yet it is never enough.
I am constantly sacrificing on behalf of science. In the five months since I've been married, I have basically had no contact with the majority of my friends, because I am constantly in the lab. My husband and I often go days without seeing each other, though I suppose that is a good thing in terms of easing us into what it will be like when he moves away come June. I've given up all the hobbies and interests I once had outside of science. Probably saddest of all, I've nearly had to cut off contact with my mother -- I call only when my husband forces me to do so. Every single conversation we have, my mother brings up "So, is there a light at the end of the tunnel yet?" in reference to when I will be done. I have asked her dozens of times to not ask me, and I will let her know when I know, but she insists on asking, every time, because "people want to know." Screw them. I don't know. I tell her I don't know. And every time, this sparks an argument. Look, this isn't medical school. It's not four years and out. The average for my program is 6 years. There are a few lucky people who get out in 5. There are some 8th year students still hanging around. The program dictates that students must have one first author publication in a journal with an impact factor greater than 5; my PI's personal requirements are that I must have two first author papers before I am allowed to defend. I had quality data, but it all went into a post-doc's paper. I get it -- this is how science works, and I am fine with that, but this puts me back at square one, as EVERY bit of publishable data I had went into that paper, and I am not the first author. And so here I am, a fourth year student, and I have zero worthwhile data. And I need two first author papers before I can defend. So no Mom, I have no fucking idea when I'll be done, and if you are so concerned with asking me every time because you need an answer to tell your friends that you are unable to respect my wishes to not talk about it, then I have no desire whatsoever to talk to you at this point in my life.
I know that I always come across as frustrated and miserable and bitter, but often, I blog about these feelings so that I do not have to carry them around in reality. It's far easier to vent in a post and then be able to fake a smile when someone asks how the lab is and shrug and tell them it's chugging along. But truthfully, I don't know how much longer I can keep that up without something (anything!) working. I put in the hours. I research the methods. I use correct experimental design -- my controls always work. And yet somehow, the protein from hell always finds a way to screw over whatever I am doing. But I can't keep doing this for much longer when my tank of hope is running completely on empty.
Mr. M, husband of the ever-charming Kim asked for my chocolate chip (pudding) pumpkin bread recipe. Seeing as how it's that time of year, and it's one of my most favorite recipes ever, I thought I'd post it here for everyone to see. I was going to go home and include a picture of the 2 large and 8 mini loaves I baked last night (family baby naming ceremony this weekend -- have to distribute to multiple family members), but alas, as always, lab experiments have gone awry, and I'm still in lab at midnight. So, you'll get the recipe, but no picture.
But first, you get to listen to my rant. This morning, once again, I returned to the lab at 4:30am to repeat my protein dialysis, and spent the day doing CD. Seeing as how I am no CD expert by any stretch, and really had crap training, I mostly fiddle my way through trying to improve my spectra with really low concentrations of protein (the pain-in-the-ass protein cannot be concentrated any further without precipitating). In fact, the training I received was so bad that the answer to my question regarding what the various settings for scanning speed, response, etc. were was simply "don't change them", when in fact changing these settings is precisely how you improve the look of a bad spectrum. However, since I'm no expert, I'm not great at predicting how the raw data will look once the buffer is subtracted and everything is analyzed. So, I played around with everything, picked the settings I thought would be the best, and settled down for eight hours of CD with my small molecule.
Of course, as it turns out, once I came back to analyze all the data, it looks like I picked incorrectly. Another setting with a different bandwidth gave me a much better looking spectrum. Groan. Fine. It may have been 7pm, but if I went ahead and dialyzed more protein (roughly 8 hours of buffer changes), I would just stay overnight and do more CD. I stay overnight every other week anyway, so why should this week be any different? All I needed to do was change the nitrogen tank, because for some reason, the lab that maintains the CD machine continues to insist that I use compressed nitrogen gas, rather than liquid nitrogen, meaning that I run out of nitrogen ALL.THE.TIME. But, as luck would have it, one of the nitrogen tanks I ordered actually happened to be IN the same lab as the spectropolimiter, so I thought it would be a piece of cake.
45 minutes later, drenched in sweat, with aching arms, peeling skin on my hands, cursing in frustration, I finally had to give up. Whoever put the pressure gauge on this tank must resemble Hulk Hogan, because I have never encountered a gauge screwed on so tight. One of the post-docs and I absolutely, positively could not, no way, no how, with all of our body weight combined, get the wrench to budget a millimeter. And thus, I am here, at 12:45am, dialyzing my proteins, and I can't even change the damn nitrogen tanks, because apparently I missed the memo that bodybuilding is a prerequisite for a Ph.D. in science. I hate my life.
And now, the recipe. Make this ASAP. You won't regret it.
Chocolate Chip Pudding Pumpkin Bread
2 cups sugar
2 cups pumpkin (I make my own puree from gutting pupmkins and freeze it, but you can use canned pumpkin as well)
1/2 cup canola oil
1/2 cup fat-free vanilla pudding
4 egg whites
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350. Grease two 8x4 inch loaf pans. (Note: I always make 1 large and 4 mini loaves -- just remember the mini-loaves need significantly less baking time. It's wise to set 2 timers, because if you're like me, you'll be so into your data analysis that you'll forget, and the first batch of mini loaves will come out a bit... crispier than desired.)
Combine the sugar, pumpkin, oil, pudding, and egg whites in a large bowl, and stir well with a whisk. (If you like pumpkin, this is an excellent point for tasting.)
Combine flour cinnamon, salt, and baking soda in a medium bowl, stirring well.
Add flour mixture to wet ingredients, stirring until just moist. Stir in chocolate chips.
Spoon batter into loaf pans. Bake at 350 for 1 hour 15 minutes, or until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool for 10 minutes in pans on wire rack and remove from pans. Cool complete on wire rack.
First order of business -- this morning, I was so absorbed in ensuring that I properly calculated the molar ratios of my proteins that I was completely unaware of the date -- 10/23 -- thus making it Mole Day! So, Happy Mole Day to all my fellow biochemists and chemists out there, and anyone else who, like me, uses molarity calculations on what seems like an hourly basis.
Secondly, a coworker brought to my attention an article from Slate on the environmental case against long-distance relationships, and then proceeded to harass me for 20 minutes why, in a nutshell, I am a selfish and shitty person for embarking upon what will be a long-distance marriage come June, and how all the environmental problems in the world can now all be blamed on me. I find his argument to be selfish and shitty because really, when you think about it, my husband and I are not doing this for "fun" by any stretch of the imagination. We did not meet and start dating long distance. We dating living in D.C. We were engaged living in D.C. It just so happened that his residency will not be in D.C., and that I will not be done with my Ph.D. (or, as it seems to be, anywhere near done with my Ph.D.) when my husband completes his intern year and moves on for his residency.
This leaves us with three options. One: My husband does not complete his residency and is never actually able to help people with his chosen career as a physician, just so that we can live in the same location and not be environmentally unfriendly with our traveling. Two: I drop out of graduate school and move with him, and give up on my research in pediatric oncology and stop attempting to develop new drugs for a very malignant and understudied pediatric cancer, so that we can live in the same location and not be environmentally unfriendly with our traveling. Or three: we continue on our career paths, and as our schedules permit, my husband drives down here to visit me (the preferred option so that I can still do some work in the lab on weekends), or I take the train up to visit him.
And yet, despite my arguments to the contrary, said coworker continued to insist that if I was environmentally responsible and cared at all about future generations, I would have called off the wedding and our relationship as soon as I found out my husband did not match here in D.C.
Which, you know, despite being absurd and ridiculous, still leaves me slightly irritated and grumpy because I don't like getting yelled at -- especially when I don't deserve it. Though not nearly as irritated and grumpy as my uncooperative proteins.
I would just like to point out how frustrating it is to come into the lab at 4:30am, all set for yet another absurdly long day of CD, have everything else set up, the small molecule all properly diluted... and then, on the very last step of a long, drawn out, overnight stepwise dialysis....
your protein precipitates.
The protein precipitation doesn't happen in the overnight step, so you can show up first thing in the lab at 4:30am, pull out the cuvette to switch it to the new buffer, see the precipitate, acknowledge that the experiment isn't going to happen, say screw it, and go back to bed. It doesn't happen at the next step at 5:30am either, when you will still justify walking back home and crawling into bed. No, no. It waits until 7:00. After you've already washed out the appropriate pathlength cell with SDS and NaOH to make sure it's all super clean and shiny and ready to go. And you've prepared all your standards, and prepped the small molecule in EtOH (no DMSO for CD experiments!) and then diluted it down in buffer to appropriate concentrations, and have everything on ice and all set, and all you have to do is add the protein once it's out of dialysis and you measure the protein concentration. And 7:00 rolls around and you go to pull out the dialysis cuvette and... wait, what's this? What are all these little white specks floating around that weren't there an hour and a half ago? Why, it's my protein, which decided to crash out just now, even though I've done this same dialysis procedure multiple times before without problems.
And thus, tomorrow, I get to try this all over again. Things like this -- the fact that I work with a protein that has to be purified fresh every 4 days, which requires a somewhat complicated dialysis procedure (which apparently no longer works), which cannot be concentrated AT ALL, which hates to be refolded -- this is why it is going to take me approximately 12 years to complete my Ph.D.
Today, my lab took off for the annual lab hike at Old Rag in the Shenendoah Valley. It's a gorgeous hike, and today is a lovely fall day, so I'm sure the lab is quite enjoying themselves. I, however, am not in attendance.
For starters, I probably would have opted out of going this year to begin with, because there's a 1.5ish mile long rock scramble, and my back has been bothering me lately. And considering that it seems like I'll likely be in physical therapy for the rest of my life, and I really aggravated my back doing some hiking and climbing on my honeymoon, doing a 7 mile hike/rock scramble while it's already bothering me doesn't seem like a great idea.
But then there's the issue of being sick. See, the Lab Plague has moved south, and settled into my chest. You know, the deep, phlegm-in-the-lungs coughing, hacking, and wheezing that makes it sound like you're going to drop dead any moment. The constant feeling like you're going to drown in your own mucus, because a giant glob is stuck in the back of your throat, and you're neither able to cough it up, nor swallow it down, and it's just stuck there, in the way.
And yet, despite the fact that I feel (and look) like complete shit, my PI spent the morning yesterday convincing me that I should go on this hike. That I would be totally find. Until, partway through me telling him that there was no way I was up to it, I started coughing. And coughing. And couldn't stop. And slowly, my PI backed out of the lab, index fingers crossed pointed towards me, warding off my germs, and told me to get the hell out of the lab, because when I drop dead, he didn't want it to be in the laboratory (liability issues, I guess).
And so, this morning, I went into lab early to take care of what I needed to do, and then promptly left (because who is going to know that I took the rest of the day off when everyone else is off hiking?), came home, and have spent the rest of the afternoon sprawled out on the couch with a piping-hot mug of tea and my latest knitting project. And a giant lump of mucus in my throat.
Really, and almost lovely afternoon indeed. And my barely-able-to-breath lungs appreciate it much more than the lab hike, even if I am sad to have to miss out on the hiking opportunity once again.
I thought I was safe. I thought, for once, I had escaped unscathed. Unharmed. Untouched. And then, I woke up yesterday morning, unable to breathe. The [name of PI] Lab Plague had officially struck.
This happens, every fall, and then again around February. Someone brings in some unidentifiable flu-like disease. This is no normal cold -- it comes with a fever, and aches, and seriously knocks you down, but it's not the flu -- it's the Lab Plague. And it spreads like wildfire throughout our lab, and only our lab. Pretty much the entire lab, aside from yours truly and the two PIs were out sick the beginning and middle of last week. But since I now sit far, far away from everyone else -- alas, I have an entirely different room number than everyone else -- I thought, perhaps, I would be safe.
Despite my circular dichroism disaster, requiring me to work in the lab for 37.5 consecutive hours, I was feeling fine. Somehow, despite my lack of sleep, my immune system was doing its job! The plague-carriers had taken their sick days off, returned to the lab healthy, and I was still feeling fine. I made it through the weekend completely unsick, and thought I was in the clear.
And then, on Monday morning, I woke up. With a stuffy nose. I tried to convince myself it was just allergies. It would go away. And by 1pm, I was completely unable to breathe, and had developed a fever. By 3pm, I was back home, on the couch, with a headache. And by 9pm, I had been kicked out of my own bed, by a husband, fearful of the plague, forced to sleep on the couch, dreaming of upgrading to a two-bedroom condo, complete with a guest room.
Today, I have not even managed to change out of my pajamas, or even move off the couch, except to make myself a cup of tea (with my brand-new, kiwi green, Le Creuset, whistling teakettle, a wedding present). The floor around me is covered with dozens of used tissues, I'm drinking boiling hot tea, wrapped in a fleece blanket, sniffling, unable to breathe -- and the most bizarre part of it all? Washington, D.C. is in the middle of a heat wave. I have our standard winter Lab Plague, and it is 86 degrees outside. If it didn't require so much energy, I'd go put on shorts, and lie on our patio in the lounge chair and try to bake the plague out of me.
But instead, I used my sick day for some blog maintenance. Finally updated the header to reflect the fact that I am, indeed, now a fourth year grad student, and updated my blog links. If I forgot you -- my apologies -- I'm clearly not thinking well right now. Please, drop me a comment or an email if you belong on my blogroll, and I'll add you ASAP!
But despite the fact that I feel like utter shit, and have zero interest in consuming anything other than the pounds of post-nasal drip falling down the back of my throat, my charming husband just asked me what would be for dinner tonight. Because although the man may be capable of saving lives as a doctor, he is utterly unable to survive on his own or even make grilled cheese. Which means that even though I clearly won't be eating, he feels it is my responsibility as his wife to still cook him dinner. Apparently that whole "in sickness and in health" thing means not that he will take care of me when I am sick, but that regardless of how sick I am... it's still my responsibility to take care of him. Lucky bastard.
I should have known that things were going to go horribly awry this morning when I couldn't even get into the damn building. At 5am, all entrances to the building were blocked off, because they were waxing the floors. There are three different ways to get into this building (four if you count the loading dock, but it wasn't open at 5am), and some genius decided that it was acceptable to wax all the entrances AT THE SAME DAMN TIME. And so, when I attempted to make my way into the building to get to the lab, I was greeted with "Sweetheart, there's wax on that floor, you can't be walking over." I shot a nasty look (don't call me sweetheart), and trudged around to another entrance, where the scene replayed itself.... and then a third time. What the hell?! I voiced my displeasure with the situation, and was told that people are not supposed to be entering the building at 5am. HELLO, I have an ID card that gives me 24 hour access to my laboratory... AS IN, I AM ALLOWED IN THE BUILDING AT 5AM.
So after a very disgruntled hour of sitting in an outside hallway waiting to cross the threshold into my own building, I finally got a late start to my research to what was already going to be a very long day, indeed. I'm chugging along, and went to confirm that I was able to use the CD spectropolimiter. Mind you, I sent an email last Wednesday stating that I wanted to use it on Tuesday and Wednesday, and was that acceptable. I CC'd my PI, and the head of the biochemistry department on this email, and sent it to the post-doc who I go through to use the CD machine. No response, as per usual, but, in the past, if there is a conflict, he'll generally call to say so. I've learned to take no response to mean no conflict. To make sure, I walked over on Friday, but he wasn't around, so I left a post-it note on his desk asking him to please contact me regarding using the machine.
Monday, I went ahead with my protein purification. To get all 3 proteins purified, run on a gel, Coomassie stained, and the dialysis started, is roughly an 18 hour process. They all have to be done back-to-back-to-back, because these proteins cannot be frozen, and last only 2-3 days before degrading. I stopped by again on Monday to confirm the CD, but he had stepped out, but I noticed the post-it note was moved, so obviously he had received it.
I went over this morning to get the key for the room that the spectropolimiter is in, and am told "Oh... you can't do CD today... [chemistry PI] is doing a demonstration on it this afternoon]."
FUCK ME.
You couldn't have told me this Wednesday? Or Thursday? Or Friday? Or even yesterday? It took the entire 10 minute walk from the biochemistry building back to my building of deep breathing to not scream like a banshee and break down in tears. Because now I have minimum 12 hours of CD to do, and I can't start until after 5pm. And I got here at 5am. For absolutely no reason now.
I hope my PI realizes how unbelievably lucky he is to have me, because every other person I've told this story to has said that no way would they be staying from 5pm until at least 5am... they would just call it a day and go home. I'm not entirely sure if it's dedication from my end... or being brainwashed from my PI's end. Probably the latter.
This afternoon, Husband and I did our weekly grocery shopping trip. It's the one thing we do together (almost every) week, since he's the driver of the relationship, and since I pack all our lunches and cook every dinner that we eat, I can't lug home 1-2 weeks worth of groceries the mile long walk by myself. Husband was on a 36 hour overnight call shift last night, so he asked if we could just go grocery shopping immediately afterward, so he could just come home and sleep for the rest of the afternoon.
I was in lab all morning, so he picked me up in the lab to go grocery shopping, and dropped me back off afterward. Having just come off a call night, he was dressed in his scrubs, so in the checkout line, the female cashier made the educated guess and asked if he was a doctor. She then asked if I was his wife, and then said "So then you're a nurse, right?"
As we walked through the parking lot, Husband commented on the fact that just because I have a vagina, I'm automatically stuck in the position of a nurse. Don't get me wrong -- I'm certainly not stating that there is anything wrong with nursing, and my husband is the first to acknowledge that he couldn't function without the nursing staff -- but why couldn't I have also been a doctor? Why, because I am the female, did I have to be the nurse? But then I also wondered, why did I even have to be a nurse at all? Why didn't she think I was a teacher, or some other equally gender stereotypical role -- was it because doctors are only supposed to marry nurses? Or, more specifically, doctors are supposed to leave their first wives to run off with their nurses (I actually have two friends whose mothers were the nurses and their fathers were the doctors in this exact situation).
Of course, after venting his frustration with society and it's gender role's in the parking lot, he has thus decided to enjoy himself at my expense. This evening, every time he wants something, it has been "Nurse, get me a fork." "Nurse, wash my white coat." "Nurse, bring me some Advil." Unfortunately for him, I am not a nurse, I am a biochemist, and I have access to some extremely toxic drugs in my laboratory. Wouldn't it be a shame if some accidentally wound up in his dinner tomorrow? Whoops. (Just kidding. I know he teases in jest.)
Disgruntled Julie is very disgruntled this morning, indeed. You see, at some absurdly early hour, Disgruntled Julie was awoken from her nice cozy, rare state of hibernation with a searing, blinding headache -- a migraine. This is disgruntling enough on a normal day, but particularly so as Disgruntled Julie has just recently become aware of the effects of which her daily migraine medications are taking on her daily life -- AND THEN SHE GOES AND GETS A DAMN MIGRAINE. Fine, the constant tingling in the feet range from mildly annoying to "OMGIAMGOINGTOCUTMYFEETOFF" and the fact that my vision has gone from perfect and never needed glasses to squinting to try to see anything is a wee bit frustrating, but the memory loss, depression, somnolence, and ability to ONLY spell words phonetically (which I had always been able to spell perfectly fine up until a few months ago) seem to be a rather steep price to pay to STILL BE GETTING MIGRAINES. Yes, yes, I know, the point is that I now get them every other month or so, rather than every other week, and it is an improvement, but on my prior migraine medication I didn't get them at all! And the only side effect was that I gained 35 pounds in 3 months! I still stand by the fact that I'd rather wind up 400 pounds and migraine and other side-effect free, but alas, my doctor begs to differ that it is best for my overall health to not resemble a small whale.
And thus, this morning, I dragged myself out of bed, blindly tripped my way into the bathroom (have I mentioned that I get vision loss with my migraines? awesome!), found my Midrin, and begin the one-an-hour pill-popping procedure. By 8:30, I acknowledged that I was not going to be functional enough to make it to lab meeting, so I sent an e-mail off to my PI telling him as such, and crawled back to bed. With the pain, of course, I couldn't sleep, but laying there in the dark sure beat sitting through a lab meeting and having to pretend to be a human. But next thing I know (admittedly, a few hours later, but before the pain relief had kicked in and before I'm ready to face the day) -- the fire alarm for the entire condo building goes off. Because that is JUST WHAT YOU NEED during a migraine -- nice, loud bells and some super bright flashing lights, to boot. Can't a girl get a break around here? A nice, dark sanctuary to wait out her misery in peace? I mean, seriously. DAMN YOU ALL! And thus, not knowing if it was some kind of test or an actual fire, after contemplating burning to a crisp but deciding I couldn't handle the 20 minutes until they turned off the alarms, I speed dressed and worked my way down to the lab, where I can sit in misery slumped over my desk, and wait in an upright position with all the lights on for the Midrin to kick in. And the first person to ask with any sort of assistance with an experiment is getting a nice middle finger aimed in their direction, and some words to match. But please forgive me.... after all, it's not me.... it's the bitchiness from my fantastically working preventative migraine medication talking.
I was tagged (a few weeks ago, I’ll admit) by the fabulously, amazingly witty Ellie over at The Lucky Nest in the “6 Random Things About Me” meme.On account of having to wait for the appropriate sized path-length cells to arrive for all the upcoming circular dichroism I will be doing, and the upcoming Jewish holidays (meaning I will be spending a few days out of the lab, so there’s no point in purifying the proteins that immediately begin to degrade roughly 0.2 seconds after coming off the column, if I won’t be in the lab every single day next week to use them), I’ve shockingly found myself with a few extra minutes to actually sit at my desk.Meme time!
The Rules:
1)I am allergic to mosquito bites.Seriously, seriously allergic.As in, each mosquito bite turns into a giant, rock hard, fiery hot welt that itches non-stop for the first day, and then becomes extraordinarily painful and swells to giant proportions and hurts like a bitch.I also attract mosquitoes better than anyone I know, which is apparently because I am extremely efficient at processing cholesterol, and the cholesterol by-product residues remain on my skin and attract said mosquitoes.It’s a lose-lose situation.Case in point, last Saturday, as in 10 days ago, I was outside on a deck with some friends enjoying a live band at a bar.My ankles are still so swollen from the mosquito bites I am still having difficulty walking and it is still painful, but at least after 6 days my resulting fever from the allergy went down.
2)I hate flip flips.Hate hate hate hate with a passion.Flip flips are appropriate attire at a beach or a pool, and nowhere else.I am well aware that 98% of the American population disagrees with me on this one, but there are so many footwear options that are far less hideous, and do not make the cringe-worthy thwack-thwack sound of flip flops.Loathe them.
3)I don’t drive.I mean, I can – I’m a legal licensed driver – I just very, very rarely do.When I was in high school, I drove on daily basis.But then I graduated from high school, and moved to D.C. for undergrad, and left behind my car.And at my undergraduate institution, next to nobody had a car, because a) you didn’t need one, and b) parking fees were astronomical.I think in all four years there, I knew precisely two people who had cars.And then I stayed in D.C. for graduate school, and continued my car-free existence.My husband has a car, but he is very distinct that it is HIS car, not OUR car.A big part of why I don’t drive is because I get carsick, even while driving, and I dread the day when my husband makes me pack up and move out of the city and into the suburbs where I’ll have to drive.I plan on retaliating by frequently vomiting in his nice new luxury car he will purchase for himself following the completion of his residency.
4)My favorite food in the whole wide world is eggplant.That’s pretty random, right?I mean, when you can pick from all sorts of delicious things like ice cream and goat cheese, who picks eggplant?
5)I am superbly tidy/organized.Our lab once tried to do a weekly “neatest bench” competition to try to encourage everyone to keep their personal bench space organized, but our PI gave up after a few weeks, because everyone realized that I would just win every single week, and I wasn’t even trying.It’s just how I am. Everything has a place, and that’s where it belongs.I secretly dread having children someday, because they are not going to keep everything where it belongs, and I don’t think I will be able to function.
6)I have foul fingers, but rarely a foul mouth.When I’m typing, generally because I am pissed about something and am venting to my best friend on GChat, I swear like a sailor.But in real life?Only when I have asked my husband three times to move the suitcase he left in the middle of the bedroom floor, and three times in a row I painfully stubbed my toe on the suitcase in the middle of the night (and the swearing was not so much at my husband, but the natural reaction to kicking the suitcase with my swollen, infected, mosquito-bitten toe).
Now, we get to learn 6 random facts about the following:
1)Amanda, over at A Lady Scientist, a fellow slave of the laboratory.
3)Julie (with the Greatest Name Ever), at One Day At A Time, owner of the adorable Smartest Cat Ever! (and Meanest Boyfriend Ever, who is makes Smartest Cat Ever stay off the counters, couch, and all the exact places where a cat belongs!)
4)Southern Grad Girl, at The Grad Life, who should really think about weaning herself off caffeine!
5)physics*chick, at Mad Scientist, who I am convinced really must not do any work during the day, because I am amazed with the number of completed knitting projects she has on her Ravelry page!
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