No place like home...

I am home.  The conference was absolutely amazing!  Five days of intense science, schmoozing and incredible sessions really made me get excited about things again. (and completely and totally exhausted) I made some new friends, found some collaborators (although really, there are already 4 of them, do I really need more?), and all in all had a fantastic time.  It was a highly productive meeting.  My poster was well received and I had gotten a few suggestions for experiments which may help clarify things in the end.  I think my liver may be a bit unhappy with me right now, but a few dry days may help that out.

At one point, I was sitting at dinner with Big Boss Man and several of the pioneers in the field.  We were talking about kids and grad school and things like that.  I looked around the table and realized that these are all "normal" (I use the term loosely) people who have normal lives and are just a bit geekier/nerdier then the rest of the general population.  I think I will fit in just fine. 

I think the funniest part of the conference for me was having the image of people in my head completely shattered.  I do believe that there was not one person there that I had "pictured" correctly in my brain.  I am not one of those people who google-stalk someone, so when reading papers I do tend to formulate a picture in my brain of Dr. So-and-so and tend to see them bent over the bench with a gilson in hand.  Yup.  Not one of those images was right.

I have to admit, there were times where I almost had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming.  This conference to me was like a bunch of high school girls meeting Zak Effrom or something.  Sitting on the porch in a rocking chair with some of the big names in science, listening to their stories about being in Big Boss Man's lab 20-30 yrs ago was almost surreal.

I am just glad to be home.  Five days is a long time.  It also made me realize how much I need to up my game.  And soon.  Monday, in fact.  Operation take the field by storm is now in effect. 

Finished

The poster is finally done and printed.  It doesn't look half-bad and really, using Illustrator wasn't as mind-numbingly awful bad as I thought it would be.  There were only a few times where I was ready to toss the laptop out the 3rd floor window a tad frustrated.  I just realized, though, that there is a lot of data on the poster.  But it is what it is and no way to change things now.

So, the poster is done, Big Boss Man's talk is finished (and saved on two different thumb drives and on the laptop-just in case) and the realization that we are leaving on Sunday is starting to sink in.  Even though I am only giving a poster, I am still as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.  Could be because Big Boss Man has forewarned me that he will lob all questions from his talk to me .

There are a lot of big names in the field that are going to be there-people who are going to review my papers, and someday soon, my grants.  I have to admit that my boss is absolutely fantastic about "putting me out there" and I am looking at this conference as not only a way to see some really cool science, but to network the hell out of people.  They won't know what hit them. 

I am leaving Mr. Dr. Zeek at home for this one (the next conference in January he will be tagging along--more to enjoy the sunshine and warm weather than anything else) and he commented yesterday that this will be the longest that we have been apart since we moved in together almost 6 yrs ago.  Maybe that is adding to my nerves a bit.  That and I hate- no detest- flying.  Not so much the flying, but the taking off and landing is really a problem for me. 

The bitch that I am....

Sundays in the lab are my few hours of escape.  I don't come in for a full eight hour day- more like two or three hours-- but it is enough to save me a day or two of frantically running around like a chicken with my head cut off during the week. I usually do a few transformations and some plating, some cleaning, some planning for the week, some catching up in the lab notebook.  Nothing too serious (as in a full day of assays), but enough that I can hit the ground running on Monday morning.

I love Sundays in the lab.  Why, you may ask?  Because it is quiet.  Because no one is here.  Sure, Big Boss Man may pop in to check his e-mail or to work on a grant or something (since he lacks the modern convenience of having the internet at home) and the research scientist who drives me crazy during the week is usually holed-up in her office searching the internet for the latest-greatest ways to rear her spawn-but for the most part I can sneak in, close the lab/office door and work in silence (OK, silence as in no one bothering me--Metallica and Hinder are still playing away on the iPod).  Sundays are my days to recharge.

I can normally play nicey-nice and smile and are helpful and great to talk to, but I harbor a deep, dark secret.  If I don't get some downtime away from people, away from being on my game, I will totally and completely loose my shit.  I need that downtime where I don't have to put in the effort to carry on a conversation with anyone.  I have noticed that if I am severely lacking in that "me time", its a struggle for me to not look at someone and tell them point blank "I don't give a flying fuck." when on a normal day I don't mind hearing about their latest escapades, or the fact that your child is teething or they can go "poopy and pee-pee in the potty" (yes, this is how the 40-year old woman talks to me) or that you can afford to have the windows redone in your house.

Well, folks, it seems that today is not my Sunday.  I came in a few hours ago made the coffee and settled in for a few hour incubation that would leave me free to start working on my poster and such.  The tunes were going, the floor was deserted and Dr. Zeek was happy.  Until the phone rang.  Our new visiting scientist wanted to come in to set-up a column today to save himself some time.  No problem, I can set you up a bit.  That was two hours ago.  Where is the soap?  Where is the gradient maker? Where is this? That?  How is this? How is that? Can you help me set this up?  I don't mind, really--and I am trying not to be a bitch-but I guess I feel like one.  Yes, I will set up the column for you.  Need some tubing? No problem.  Mop for the flood? Sure, here it is...AGGHGHGHGHGHGHHHH...

This, my friends is bad enough.  Then, crazy research scientist comes in and starts telling me how I am setting everything up wrong.  Snide comments about how she wouldn't have done things this way or that way.  The other RS just sat there and watched.  I made it clear that he could do it anyway he wants.  She of course wants to redo the set-up for him- he is perfectly content leaving thigns the way they are since I appear to know what I am doing.  Then the "conversation" begins--and I quickly dart out the door. 

Of course, the conversation between the two of them--of which I have NO involvement in- then moves to my lab.  Not that they don't have their own lab or anything- I just think they couldn't stand the thought of me sitting in my lab by myself on a Sunday, enjoying the solitude.

Now normally, I give two shits and cheerily carry on a conversation. But today, it's hard.  Not even hard-down-right frustrating.  It is Sunday, and I hold my Sundays sacred. 

Looks like my two hours is turning into six since I do have some things I need to get done and now I feel like a bitch.

Poster Virgin...

Things have been crazy here.  Beyond crazy.  Downright chaotic.  Between the wedding (and all the various drama that goes along with standing up as a bridesmaid), the following nearly week-long intercontinental pow-wow with our collaborators here at post-doc university and getting the visiting professor/research scientist up to speed on my project and what he will be doing this summer-I have had little time to breathe, let alone blog.

I finished the initial drafting of the PPT slides for Big Boss Man's upcoming talk at the conference we are going to go to in July and decided to start working on my poster. 

That is when it hit me.  In all of my academic career, I have never, ever had to make a poster.  Ever.  Including undergrad- that's nearly  13 years of advanced education.  I am a poster virgin.

Not that I have never attended a conference before- but I have always opted to give a short talk instead of laboring over the intricacies of PhotoShop and Illustrator (and by now I am a PowerPoint whiz-not that it is that difficult to master).  I like giving talks.  I enjoy standing in front of a crowd and putting my "Dr. Zeek. Woman of Science-" hat on.  Could be that all those years in theater and drama in high school have finally paid off, because not only do I love to give talks, but I am fairly good at it as well.

But today, I must embark on a new adventure, expand my horizons, explore uncharted territory, fumble through vector-based vs. bitmap-based drawings and figures and schemes, much like the kid in the backseat trying to clumsily unhook a bra for the first time. Hopefully, I can avoid all the pitfalls that seem to plague the n00b posters.

May the PhotoShop gods smile kindly on me and, as always, any advice, tips and truly horrific stories are always welcomed.

Trust me.

After a freak storm this morning (which was impressive to watch from my third-floor lab window) and a two-second (literally, the lights flickered-no computer nor clock reset) power outage, the air compressor and extremely important piece of equipment went out.  Fixed important equipment, fixed air compressor.

Did I mention that the air-con in the building also went out?  Did I also mention that, due to air-flow/circulation in the building, the windows in every lab and office are covered with storm windows screwed into the concrete that cannot be opened?  Did I also mention that an 80 degree lab is more unbearable than the 90 degree weather outside?

Really, it is.  Trust me.

And turning off the fluorescent lights in the lab-while conserving energy-doesn't do much for the overall temperature in the lab.  I would be working from the confines of home right now if the silly bacteria would grow....

Did I also mention that a highly humid lab is not conducive for weighing out LB media?  Really.  Trust me on this one.

8-12...

The satellite company we have is coming to upgrade our satellite boxes this morning. Not that we couldn't do it, but the logistics of shipping us the new boxes and shipping back the old ones is a nightmare-therefore having them come and install them would be easier.

Or so I thought.

Being the one with a more flexible schedule, I told Mr. Dr. Zeek that I would stay home this morning and wait for them to come.  Running out the door this morning at 7:30, Mr. Dr. Zeek called over his shoulder, "The appointment is for sometime between 8-12."

Wait.  What? A four-hour window?  They cannot narrow it down farther than that?  I am chained to the house, and the phone, for four hr?  And, the really cool thing, if you miss their phone call (they call you as they are leaving their last job), the put you at the end of the cue and go to the next place.  I am afraid to even go to the bathroom right now for fear of missing a phone call or the doorbell ringing.  I wonder if I can pull the four-hour window for meetings with Big Boss Man or my undergrads.  Yep, Big Boss Man, we can meet to talk about very important manuscript tomorrow, say sometime between 12:00 and 4:00.  Just wait for me in your office. 

Somehow I don't think that would go over so well.

A letter to my next-door neighboor...

Dear ass-hat-

Could you please refrain from using any power-tools before, let's say 9:00 am, on a Sunday morning?  Starting your power-sander thing outside my window at 7:30 am on a Sunday morning is not conducive for anything but pissing me the fuck off.  I understand that you are busy and may need to get some stuff around the house done, but seriously dude, WTF?  I was up till 3:30 last night working on some cool ass science, and four hours of sleep is going to make me one cranky mofo.  I mean really, 7:30? On a freaking Sunday.

And, if you were only going to sand-whatever-the-fuck you are for 30 min and then start packing everything up, could you not have waited until a reasonable hour?  Really, douchebag, you never show any fucking common courtesy, I understand that and should expect no less from you, but since I have been sitting on the porch with my coffee for the past 30 min (since, for some silly reason-I couldn't get back to sleep with all the buzzing and the whirring and the general cacophony coming from your backyard) you have talked on the phone, paced around, and not done anything but glare my way.  Thank you for the wonderful wake-up call.  You are right, I had things to do today, so what is an extra hour of sleep anyways, ass-munch.

No love me.

Dear Mr. Dr. Zeek-
Damn you for being able to sleep through a fucking tornado. 
I expect a nice dinner tonight.
You sleep-deprived wife...