Wednesday, September 14

Not a good day for Puck

My darling demented cat, Puck, has a few fleas. I decided (very uncharacteristically) to take action sooner rather than later, and tonight I gave him a bath with flea shampoo. This is his second bath in his whole 8 years of life.
Puck was NOT a happy camper. His little brain was sending him "CRISIS! OMG, IF WE DON'T GET OUT OF HERE THIS INSTANT WE ARE GOING TO DIE !!!"-type emergency messages. Unfortunately, my explanations that this was all for the best didn't seem to have any effect.

So, after the bath, Puck sits there for almost 2 hours licking himself dry. He is going to have the world's largest hairball later tonight. I, on the other hand, will not be having any hairballs, but instead had the tangerine popsicle I've been saving in case of emergency.

if I HAVE to have diabetes

and if I HAVE to check my blood sugar 3 times a day, which means I have to PUNCTURE MYSELF TO DRAW BLOOD, at least I have the good fortune to have been given the same glucose meter as B.B. King. According to the people at Lifescan, "It's the meter B.B. King counts on." Honestly, finding this out does make me feel a tiny bit better about the whole diabetes thing.

Wednesday, August 17

"The Quotidian Miasma of Discrimination"

Awesome article on the subtler forms of discrimination against women in the Ivory phallus - oops, I mean tower.

I definitely think that many faculty members enjoy "rescuing" damsel-like women graduate students. Not being very damsel-like myself [I have the distress, just not the girliness], it is kind of gross to watch this in action.

it seemed like it would be kind of fun

But it turns out that having an overnight sleep test at a sleep clinic was a pain in the neck, in a very literal sense. I stayed over last night so they could test me for sleep apnea, and they made me swallow a probe-wire-thing up my nose and down into my throat. Then they told me to go to sleep. I had about 20 electrodes glued to me, AND A WIRE GOING UP MY NOSE AND DOWN MY THROAT, and I had to go to sleep like that. Needless to say, it wasn't very restful.

And, after repeated showering and scrubbing, I can't get the super-glue they used to attach the electrodes to me off my neck and head. I also can't get the Borg feeling to go away.

So Mad I Just Had to Blog Again

In which Corrie returns from a blogging hiatus to RANT AND RAVE about John Roberts.

Call your Senators and give them hell for even THINKING of confirming John Roberts.

According to this National Women's Law Center article, helpfully brought to my attention by this Marketplace story, John Roberts thinks equal pay for women is a "radical and pernicious" idea that only crazy Marxists believe. John Roberts thinks that discrimination based on gender is A-OK, and that the courts have no business interfering with corporation's god-given rights to systematically underpay half of the population.

I can't believe what total bull-shit this is.

Sunday, August 7

Mysteries of Human Subject Approval

Let me say, by way of preface, that if anyone from the Stanford IRB- Panel on Non-Medical Human Subjects is reading this post, I respect and admire each and every one of you for the wonderful job that you do. Nothing that follows is to be taken as a criticism, especially if you happen to be involved in (dis)approving the revision of my protocol.

I recently received in the mail an official letter notifying me that my research protocol for this summer's phone survey project was certified approved by the IRB panel. Joy! The phone survey is of college graduates, and asks nothing particularly personal, emotional, or (alas) even that interesting*.
Given the entirely non-medical and mundane nature of my survey, I was perplexed by the following sentence (in bold) in my notification letter:
"Note that all adverse events, occurring here and at other institutions, should be reported to both the Human Subjects and Biosafety Panels regardless of whether or not the events are thought to be related to the gene transfer intervention."

I want to assure everyone, right here and now, that any adverse events that result from my phone survey of healthy adults will not be related to "the gene transfer intervention".

* If you don't believe me, ask Jeremy, he's taken the survey.

Thursday, August 4

You haven't forgotten about the baby panda, have you?

Well, if you have, I'm here to remind you. The baby panda is very, very cute. They still have the live pandacam going round the clock. It's a wonder I've been able to do anything else since the baby was born.

I like the name Snuppy

That's all, just wanted to share.
If you don't know who snuppy is, go here.

Tuesday, August 2


Yes, this is a triple OMG post.
I'M GOING TO SUMMER CAMP!! I am so excited, I can hardly wait until the end of the month, when I am GOING TO SUMMER CAMP!
Yesterday, the NYT website had a picture of this guy who looked exactly like this guy who lived in my dorm and I had romantic entanglements with freshman year in college. I thought to myself, "hmmm...I wonder what ever happened to pseudonymous ass-hole? (PAH for short)" So I googled PAH, and wasn't getting very far, and realized I should try the Cal alumni website. While I was at the Cal alumni website, I saw a link for the summer camp in the Sierras run by Berkeley, and I clicked, and saw that they have a whole week-long summer camp just for single adults! It said "come as an adult, leave as a kid". They have hiking and arts and crafts and horse-back riding, and everything.
Even though it's a bit last minute, I called and they still have an opening for me and they said that they have a lot of young people (i.e. under-50s) coming this year, and all I have to do is send them $700!

Back in the day, I LOVED summer camp. There were church camps and girl scout camps, school camps and music camp, and even a basketball camp. I love just showing up and having your day all scheduled for you and just wandering around doing all the fun stuff. And campfire and campsongs, and skits, and camp food.
When I got too old to be a camper, I became a counselor for a couple of summers in high school. I liked being a counselor, but a part of me secretly just wanted to be a camper again. And now, thanks to the wonderful people at the Berkeley alumni website who brought it to my attention, I get to be a camper for a whole week. And the best part? My birthday is the last day of camp. I bet if I tell them it's my birthday, they'll sing for me.

Saturday, July 30

What Corrie is listening to this weekend (obsessively)

The Living Room Tour, Carole King's new 2-cd set of her singing her greatest hits. It's awesome.

"How far along are you, dear?"

...and she wasn't talking about a dissertation. Because department-store designers have cruel senses of humor, the plus-size women's section blends indistinguishably into the maternity section. I clarified that I wasn't, in fact, pregnant, I had just wandered accidentally out of the plus sizes.
I had run in to Target to pick up a pair of excercise shorts, and the lady asking how far along I was at least explained why all the ones I tried on made me look pregnant.

The irony that I was in there for excercise shorts was not lost on me. Talk about a motivation to lose some weight.

Thursday, July 28


1. If you are what you eat, right now I'm 3 parts water and 1 part Dreyer's whole fruit popsicles, Tangerine flavor. Seriously addictive.

2. After hanging out at a local cafe this evening, doing schoolwork, I'm thinking of renaming this blog 'Corrie Is Tragically Unhip'. It's not just the kids these days who are cooler than me, but all the people my age, and all the older people, too. This is the Silicon valley, will someone please tell me where all the nerds are? Please?

3. There seem to be lingering aftereffects of Puck's (my cat) introduction to canines earlier this month. Twice recently, he's woken himself out of a deep sleep by hissing, and looking around frantically. I've never seen him do this before I introduced him to the dogs. I think he dreams about the dogs and then hisses in his dream, and then really hisses, and wakes himself up.