My thoughts are stars I can't fathom into constellations — John Green

Archive for June, 2012

Like a Real Live Scientist!

I am The Happiest Camper right now!

One of the studies I’ve been working on this summer had this horrible lag in filling in data, as the software we use to collect all of our physical measures is meant for clinical use, not large data sets and has no simple way to export large amounts of information. Before this summer, we’d been entering it all by hand. That means we were about four semesters behind in data and when I went to start again, it turned out almost all of what had already been entered was incorrect.

So! Here’s the awesome part! My mom and I (yes, I’m twenty years old and my mom still helps with my school projects, I’m not even sorry) wrote a program to enter all the data for us. So I just entered ALL the data from like four years of testing in thirty minutes. Thirty. Minutes. Guys I am so, so, so relieved right now! I have no idea what I’m going to get paid for for the rest of the summer, but I’m so happy!

(Under the cut I will recount some more research exploits, this post is mostly for freaking out over how well things are going.)



More Thoughts

After a couple days of Michael playing Bullshit and The Amazing Randi passive aggressively at me, I feel more sure of my answers. So instead of doing an edit you wouldn’t see unless you get past the cut, I decided I’d simply make a clarification post.

If it makes you feel better, I can’t tell you it’s bad for you. However, I will not allow you to call it medicine or, you know, take my money for it.

I still need to figure out how I feel about my family’s…feelings about it. The thing is, I know they don’t think it’s the same thing as medicine. I’m just not sure they understand the reasons that line needs to exist.

The Potentially Grey Area of Woo

A few days ago I learned my aunt, who until recently was a doctor in a clinic at the UM medical school, has made plans to start a wellness center with a few of her friends.

My mother just returned from her brother’s 60th birthday party in Holland and we had a long conversation about how everyone in the family was doing and what was going on, as I was unable to attend. Turns out one of the ladies that my uncle used to date (who is 29 and married, apparently) is a massage therapist and the three of them, my aunt my mother and this woman my uncle was involved with, all bonded over their involvement with non-western forms of medicine.
I’ve had my fair share of experience with this stuff. My father took some reiki classes once upon a time. My mother is 100% sure she meditated her MS away. I have had a homeopath tell me never to consume milk again. I’ve done meditation classes and all kinds of breathing exercises. But, I have never before faced my family’s role in all of that from my perspective or even really asked myself how I deeply, truly feel about it. I’ve chewed on the whole thing for a few days and I think I’ve come to some conclusions. I think they may also be slightly unpopular opinions.

On The Proverbial Closets

So since the regular world is about a week behind the Internet, I had a conversation with my boss today about the preacher who said gays should be fenced up.

I’ve been thinking lately about anonymity and my lack thereof. A friend just began blogging away from her pseudonym. I’ve had issues with my thoughts being ill-received in the past.
I tend to not think about it, as it’s easier to pretend I don’t need to keep my online life separate from, say, my work life. Today I was reminded how careful I need to be.
And how much that pisses me off.
A bit of background: I work in not quite the middle of nowhere, but we’re about 10 miles from the middle of town. It’s about 5 seconds from where I went to high school. It’s not so bad, but we definitely get more than our fair share of overalls.
So last night, one of my managers was talking to me about how she’s seen a lot of people talking about racism and “gays” on Facebook recently. So she starts talking about her opinions on some pretty touchy subjects. I started feeling awkward because I didn’t think there was anything I could add to the conversation.