What can you make with a 1 foot square of aluminum foil, a clean diaper, a toothpick and a new tube of chapstick???
(This is a challenge that was issued in a comment on one of Boss's posts. I thought it deserved the attention of its own post.)
Friday, March 31, 2006
Monday, March 27, 2006
Multi-potentiality
A recent post at FMH struck a chord with some of the thoughts that have been bouncing around my head lately. And then there was John's post, which is kind of related to some of those bouncing thoughts.
A word that was introduced in a comment to the FMH post is multi-potentiality—the idea that we each have potential in many different areas that all contribute to our overall potential. And as I tend to do, I made a parallel to science—in particular, stem cells. (Yes, here’s your mini-science lesson for this post. I’m sorry! I can’t help it!)
Totipotent stem cells are cells in which the developmental potential of the cells is unlimited. An entire organism can develop from these cells.
The developmental potential of pluripotent stem cells is also unfixed (but not quite unlimited). An entire organism cannot be formed from just these cells because these cells have lost the ability to form placental tissue.
Multi-potent stem cells are somewhat specialized, but are still not fully differentiated, and multiple cell types can still arise from these cells.
I can look back on my life and clearly see where I have made some decisions that have “specialized” me in my development. I did well in high school. I decided to attend BYU. I majored in animal science. I didn’t attend vet school, etc. But I don’t feel like I’ve lost overall potential in choosing some things over others. I don’t feel like a fully differentiated cell. I don’t feel like my destiny is determined because I’ve followed certain paths and not others.
A few weeks ago I was a chaperone on a youth temple trip. I was the towel lady. Towards the end of the evening, the Baptistry Director came to me and whispered, “You are really doing a great job! Thank you.”
My initial thought was, “I’m the towel lady, nothing to it.” But he had noticed that in between handing out towels I was helping people be where they needed to be and otherwise helping the whole process run smoothly.
*******
I was talking to someone recently about perhaps leaving bench science. He responded, “Wouldn’t that be a waste of your PhD?”
I wanted to say “Bite me” or something else much less lady-like.
Yes, I’ve been trained as a scientist, but the skills I’ve acquired (critical analysis, problem solving, oral and written communication, multi-tasking to name a few) are ones that are useful in a broad range of fields—even in the temple baptistry.
I’ve had a number of dreams lately with the recurring theme of houses. Specifically, I’m showing family around my newly acquired house. As I approach doorways I begin telling my plans for the next room, but when I open the door, it’s not the room I thought it was. One of the interpretations that has been suggested is that the rooms represent “unrealized potential.” Maybe my self-conscious is trying to tell me that I need to find out what really is behind those doors in my “house.”
A word that was introduced in a comment to the FMH post is multi-potentiality—the idea that we each have potential in many different areas that all contribute to our overall potential. And as I tend to do, I made a parallel to science—in particular, stem cells. (Yes, here’s your mini-science lesson for this post. I’m sorry! I can’t help it!)
Totipotent stem cells are cells in which the developmental potential of the cells is unlimited. An entire organism can develop from these cells.
The developmental potential of pluripotent stem cells is also unfixed (but not quite unlimited). An entire organism cannot be formed from just these cells because these cells have lost the ability to form placental tissue.
Multi-potent stem cells are somewhat specialized, but are still not fully differentiated, and multiple cell types can still arise from these cells.
I can look back on my life and clearly see where I have made some decisions that have “specialized” me in my development. I did well in high school. I decided to attend BYU. I majored in animal science. I didn’t attend vet school, etc. But I don’t feel like I’ve lost overall potential in choosing some things over others. I don’t feel like a fully differentiated cell. I don’t feel like my destiny is determined because I’ve followed certain paths and not others.
A few weeks ago I was a chaperone on a youth temple trip. I was the towel lady. Towards the end of the evening, the Baptistry Director came to me and whispered, “You are really doing a great job! Thank you.”
My initial thought was, “I’m the towel lady, nothing to it.” But he had noticed that in between handing out towels I was helping people be where they needed to be and otherwise helping the whole process run smoothly.
*******
I was talking to someone recently about perhaps leaving bench science. He responded, “Wouldn’t that be a waste of your PhD?”
I wanted to say “Bite me” or something else much less lady-like.
Yes, I’ve been trained as a scientist, but the skills I’ve acquired (critical analysis, problem solving, oral and written communication, multi-tasking to name a few) are ones that are useful in a broad range of fields—even in the temple baptistry.
I’ve had a number of dreams lately with the recurring theme of houses. Specifically, I’m showing family around my newly acquired house. As I approach doorways I begin telling my plans for the next room, but when I open the door, it’s not the room I thought it was. One of the interpretations that has been suggested is that the rooms represent “unrealized potential.” Maybe my self-conscious is trying to tell me that I need to find out what really is behind those doors in my “house.”
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Putting the RE in Research
One of the things that I do at work is make and run polyacrylamide (polly-a-cryl-a-mide, the I is hard, the other vowel sounds are soft) gels. Probably the best way to describe them is like Jell-O, but poured and solidified between two glass plates. I use them to “look” at proteins. How does a certain treatment affect how much of a certain protein is present in cells? I use polyacrylamide gels to address questions like this.
Making of the gel—This is not a very interesting or exciting part of research, but it needs doing. Like Jell-O needs to be mixed up and put in the fridge before you can enjoy your jigglers, same idea with these gels. The basics are that you start with acrylamide (careful, it’s a neurotoxin!) and then you cause it to polymerize (the “poly” part of the name). Polymerization solidifies the acrylamide, so while it’s still liquid you need to pour it between the glass plates (ie, Jell-O mold) to solidify there. Once that’s done, you do it again (sort of like making multi-layer Jell-O, but without the colors or flavors). This time you add a “comb” to the top so that you get notches in the top. (see figure, picture of gel from BioRad)
Once it is all solidified you are ready to put your cell samples into the notches you’ve made. Apply a little electrical current and the proteins will move through the matrix that you’ve created by polymerizing the acrylamide. The small proteins can navigate through the matrix faster than the big ones, so you can separate proteins based on size.
Anyway, all of that explanation is so that I can say that the other day I had a bad day with polyacrylamide gels. I went into work planning on running a gel that I had made the day before. One of the first things I did was break one of the glass plates. Oops. So I started to make some more. All was well. Except that somehow I’d messed up and they weren’t polymerizing. Oops, again. I think I had better luck today—after disposing of the failed gels, I ordered some ready-made ones.
Making of the gel—This is not a very interesting or exciting part of research, but it needs doing. Like Jell-O needs to be mixed up and put in the fridge before you can enjoy your jigglers, same idea with these gels. The basics are that you start with acrylamide (careful, it’s a neurotoxin!) and then you cause it to polymerize (the “poly” part of the name). Polymerization solidifies the acrylamide, so while it’s still liquid you need to pour it between the glass plates (ie, Jell-O mold) to solidify there. Once that’s done, you do it again (sort of like making multi-layer Jell-O, but without the colors or flavors). This time you add a “comb” to the top so that you get notches in the top. (see figure, picture of gel from BioRad)
Once it is all solidified you are ready to put your cell samples into the notches you’ve made. Apply a little electrical current and the proteins will move through the matrix that you’ve created by polymerizing the acrylamide. The small proteins can navigate through the matrix faster than the big ones, so you can separate proteins based on size.
Anyway, all of that explanation is so that I can say that the other day I had a bad day with polyacrylamide gels. I went into work planning on running a gel that I had made the day before. One of the first things I did was break one of the glass plates. Oops. So I started to make some more. All was well. Except that somehow I’d messed up and they weren’t polymerizing. Oops, again. I think I had better luck today—after disposing of the failed gels, I ordered some ready-made ones.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Congratulations!
Marty's sister Emily and her husband Doug are the proud new parents of baby Ellorie. It's really been a miraculous and exciting series of events.
On March 4 Emily said this in an email: "We attended our last required meeting on Thursday and have done all that is required of us, now we just pray and wait for the blessings:) We would greatly appreciate your thoughts and prayers that our birth mother will know its us when she sees our profile and that she will have the strength to make the difficult decision to place her child with another. Please pray for the Lord's timing and that we will get our little one when it is right."
And now, just a few weeks later, they have Ellorie!
On March 4 Emily said this in an email: "We attended our last required meeting on Thursday and have done all that is required of us, now we just pray and wait for the blessings:) We would greatly appreciate your thoughts and prayers that our birth mother will know its us when she sees our profile and that she will have the strength to make the difficult decision to place her child with another. Please pray for the Lord's timing and that we will get our little one when it is right."
And now, just a few weeks later, they have Ellorie!
Monday, March 20, 2006
Another '80's throwback
Casting Crowns is a Christian rock group that I like. (Thanks Mom H. for getting me the self-titled CD for Christmas--Love it!) One of the songs on this album is a praise song with some lines like “You’re the King of Kings and Lord of Lords” and “We give you glory.” But there’s also this line “You’re the Master of the Universe.” In principle, I certainly don’t disagree, but because of the phrasing of that line, it always distracts my attention from the focus of the song—Christ. Instead, I have visions of He-Man, Skeletor, and She-ra. I suppose it’s better than, “You’re truly, truly, truly outrageous!” or "You’re more than meets the eye” or “You’re a real American hero!”
Saturday, March 18, 2006
The Neverending Question
A movie that I liked when I was young was The Neverending Story. I haven't seen this movie or even thought about it in over a decade. But there has always been a lingering question about that movie.
The movie climaxes when the main character Bastian discovers that he needs to help save Fantasia by giving the Childlike Empress a name. He thinks, "My mother had a beautiful name." He runs to the window, throws it open and screams at the top of his lungs--something. And that has been the mystery all these years, what the heck is the name he screams out the window? I remember rewinding that part of the movie over and over again to see if we could possibly figure it out. Mosia-ho? Huh?
So the other night when it did pop into my head, I sought to find the answer to that elusive question. With the magic of the internet I figured I could finally find a satisfactory answer. The internet consensus is that he yelled "Moon Child" out the window. Somehow I still feel somewhat unstatisfied with this answer--maybe I need to watch the movie again to believe it.
The movie climaxes when the main character Bastian discovers that he needs to help save Fantasia by giving the Childlike Empress a name. He thinks, "My mother had a beautiful name." He runs to the window, throws it open and screams at the top of his lungs--something. And that has been the mystery all these years, what the heck is the name he screams out the window? I remember rewinding that part of the movie over and over again to see if we could possibly figure it out. Mosia-ho? Huh?
So the other night when it did pop into my head, I sought to find the answer to that elusive question. With the magic of the internet I figured I could finally find a satisfactory answer. The internet consensus is that he yelled "Moon Child" out the window. Somehow I still feel somewhat unstatisfied with this answer--maybe I need to watch the movie again to believe it.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Goose. Goose. DUCK!!
Our apartment complex is adjacent to a small lake. Around the lake is a walking trail. Razor LOVES our walks around the lake. In fact, “go around the lake” is a phrase that she recognizes and gets really excited about. When we mention it to her she will pace between the front door, Marty, and I—urging us to get on our way.
The lake has three things that Razor really loves 1) a trail—Razor is a great dog to go on walks with because she follows the trail, whether it is a sidewalk or a dirt path; 2) open space—as much as she likes following trails, she also likes romping in open fields; 3) geese and other water fowl—this is the whip cream and cherry on top—animals to chase.
Late last night the three of us took a stroll around the lake. Ok, Marty and I strolled, Razor was in hyper-drive. We figure that for our single lap around the lake Razor goes twice as far. You see, she really likes to be at the front of the pack, but she also has a lot more things to see along the way (see schematic: blue=lake; black=trail; brown=bridge part of trail; red=Razor’s path; taupe=water fowl), so in order to fit in all the places she wants to go and still lead the way, she needs to go pretty fast. When Razor goes to the water’s edge to chase the geese, it makes me think of an RA breaking up couples and shooing the boys out of a girls dorm—she knows all the places to look, sometimes she sneaks up and others she goes in shouting, but either way, once she is done, there will be no more geese on the shoreline.
Anyway, on last night’s walk, we were crossing the bridge and we noticed a large group of geese hanging out. Razor had also noticed the geese and was already off the bridge and patrolling the shore and going into the water far enough to get those geese riled up. Incoming! Duck and cover!—All of a sudden that flock of geese was in the air and coming straight toward Marty and I who were still observing from the bridge. I now have a whole new understanding of the game Duck, Duck, Goose—when those geese are coming after you, you get out of their way!
The lake has three things that Razor really loves 1) a trail—Razor is a great dog to go on walks with because she follows the trail, whether it is a sidewalk or a dirt path; 2) open space—as much as she likes following trails, she also likes romping in open fields; 3) geese and other water fowl—this is the whip cream and cherry on top—animals to chase.
Late last night the three of us took a stroll around the lake. Ok, Marty and I strolled, Razor was in hyper-drive. We figure that for our single lap around the lake Razor goes twice as far. You see, she really likes to be at the front of the pack, but she also has a lot more things to see along the way (see schematic: blue=lake; black=trail; brown=bridge part of trail; red=Razor’s path; taupe=water fowl), so in order to fit in all the places she wants to go and still lead the way, she needs to go pretty fast. When Razor goes to the water’s edge to chase the geese, it makes me think of an RA breaking up couples and shooing the boys out of a girls dorm—she knows all the places to look, sometimes she sneaks up and others she goes in shouting, but either way, once she is done, there will be no more geese on the shoreline.
Anyway, on last night’s walk, we were crossing the bridge and we noticed a large group of geese hanging out. Razor had also noticed the geese and was already off the bridge and patrolling the shore and going into the water far enough to get those geese riled up. Incoming! Duck and cover!—All of a sudden that flock of geese was in the air and coming straight toward Marty and I who were still observing from the bridge. I now have a whole new understanding of the game Duck, Duck, Goose—when those geese are coming after you, you get out of their way!
Monday, March 13, 2006
"I'm not dead yet!" and other animal tidbits
This squirrel-like little guy is a member of an animal family that was thought to have died off 11 million years ago. Looks like it’s still alive and kicking. This is an example of the “Lazarus Effect”—when an animal re-appears in the fossil record (or in this case, in the flesh) after it was thought to have gone extinct.
Other animals that have been in the news recently:
In this season of Lent and Fish Fry Fridays, I wouldn’t recommend making a meal out of Paedocypris—either you’ll still be really hungry at the end of dinner or you’ll be eating A LOT of these guys. They are among the smallest known vertebrates (adult female only 8 mm long).
And finally, an extreme example of conversation domination? Rough-toothed dolphins traveling in a close pack will share sonar. One dolphin will emit sounds and the others will silently listen to the echoes bouncing back.
Other animals that have been in the news recently:
In this season of Lent and Fish Fry Fridays, I wouldn’t recommend making a meal out of Paedocypris—either you’ll still be really hungry at the end of dinner or you’ll be eating A LOT of these guys. They are among the smallest known vertebrates (adult female only 8 mm long).
And finally, an extreme example of conversation domination? Rough-toothed dolphins traveling in a close pack will share sonar. One dolphin will emit sounds and the others will silently listen to the echoes bouncing back.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Naked Blogging
I love that Shana started blogging and sharing her life and family events with us so long ago. I love that through blogs I have a great little network of sisters, brothers, cousins, friends, etc that can keep in touch and have conversations with each other even though we live so far apart. I love the stories and pictures. I love the connectivity that we can have through blogging and commenting.
And at the same time, I’m afraid of blogging. I’m afraid of offending. And I’m afraid of really putting myself out there and really sharing some of the things in my head and heart. Heck, I was journaling for a long time before I even felt comfortable writing much more than just a listing of daily events. And putting myself out there online is all the more risky.
I think what it comes down to is the public but also intimate nature of blogging. It’s like I’m revealing myself—getting naked—in front of everyone who might be watching. And though I know myself, not everyone else knows all of my dimples and moles and scars. And maybe if they do, they won’t think the whole Sonnet is beautiful.
I hope that as I continue blogging it will become easier for me to share the things that are me. I know that primarily my audience is family and friends who love me. And I’m pretty sure that they love me unconditionally. (Isn’t it great that love can be so strong!?)
Shakespeare's Sonnet #130
My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lip's red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun,
If hair be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
In some perfumes there is more delight
Than the breath with which my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know,
Music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
And at the same time, I’m afraid of blogging. I’m afraid of offending. And I’m afraid of really putting myself out there and really sharing some of the things in my head and heart. Heck, I was journaling for a long time before I even felt comfortable writing much more than just a listing of daily events. And putting myself out there online is all the more risky.
I think what it comes down to is the public but also intimate nature of blogging. It’s like I’m revealing myself—getting naked—in front of everyone who might be watching. And though I know myself, not everyone else knows all of my dimples and moles and scars. And maybe if they do, they won’t think the whole Sonnet is beautiful.
I hope that as I continue blogging it will become easier for me to share the things that are me. I know that primarily my audience is family and friends who love me. And I’m pretty sure that they love me unconditionally. (Isn’t it great that love can be so strong!?)
Shakespeare's Sonnet #130
My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lip's red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun,
If hair be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
In some perfumes there is more delight
Than the breath with which my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know,
Music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Scents and Sensibility
On the shelf behind my toilet I have lots of yummy smelling body lotions and perfumes. The basket is overflowing--Creamy Coconut, Fresh Vanilla, Love Spell, Ralph, Cool Water for women, Endless Love, Aqua di Gio for women, Fresh Waterfall Mist. I try to be sure not to overdo it when I wear any of them--I prefer to be subltly scented rather than overbearing.
Sadly, most of the time lately I need to remain unscented. Why? My office mate is allergic. On my second day of work, after a bout of sneezing, she confided, "I might as well tell you now, I'm allergic to your laundry detergent."
I wondered, how am I obligated to respond to this information? Do I need to immediately change detergents even though I just bought a large box? Or should I stop laundering my clothes altogether? Fortunately I didn't need to go to those extremes, I just needed to stop wearing perfumes and scented lotions.
So now most of the time my wonderful, yummy scents sit unused in their basket. And I am really glad that it was a much easier thing to fix than relaundering all of my clothing, but I miss smelling pretty.
Sadly, most of the time lately I need to remain unscented. Why? My office mate is allergic. On my second day of work, after a bout of sneezing, she confided, "I might as well tell you now, I'm allergic to your laundry detergent."
I wondered, how am I obligated to respond to this information? Do I need to immediately change detergents even though I just bought a large box? Or should I stop laundering my clothes altogether? Fortunately I didn't need to go to those extremes, I just needed to stop wearing perfumes and scented lotions.
So now most of the time my wonderful, yummy scents sit unused in their basket. And I am really glad that it was a much easier thing to fix than relaundering all of my clothing, but I miss smelling pretty.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
The Southland in the Springtime
This is one thing I like about living in Raleigh—Springtime. And Spring starts so much earlier here than it did in Minnesota. It’s refreshing and invigorating! In Minnesota it was May before it really felt like Spring. But here, it’s early March and the trees and daffodils are in bloom. The days are getting longer, and we’re walking around the lake more than we did two months ago. The Indigo Girls are right—there is something about the Southland in the Springtime.
Monday, March 06, 2006
The Quest for Stay at Home Parenthood
Marty just called me at work to ask when I’d be home so that he could have dinner ready at an appropriate time (and also so that he could know if he had time to also take a shower and take Razor around the lake). (Seriously, not making this up.) I think it’s cute and very sweet. But also let me tell you this—earlier today Marty and I were talking about the possibility of having real, human children in the not too distant future (no offense to Razor, and no, I’m not making an announcement). And he issued this challenge, “Well, I think I’d be a better stay at home dad than you’d be a stay at home mom.” I tried the argument of my being better equipped for breastfeeding, and he countered by saying we’d just get a pump. Maybe he’s working on showing me how great a stay at home dad he’d be by having dinner ready when I get home from work. :)
Lucy
Late last week I responded to an ad on craigslist about a dog needing to find a new home. The dog’s foster mom called and we arranged to meet in a nearby park to see if we would want to make “Lucy” the newest member of our family. I had reservations when I found out that she was a pitt bull mix, but we decided to go ahead and meet her anyway. When we found out that Lucy didn’t have a leash, I almost offered up Razor’s, but I didn’t listen to my gut. So Lucy was freed from the car and leashless while Razor was leashed. Lucy and Razor had one neutral sniff of each other before Lucy decided she would try to attack Razor. And since Razor was leashed she had trouble getting away. Finally I put myself between Lucy and Razor until Lucy’s foster mom grabbed her collar. Marty scooped up Razor and took her to safety in our car. It was pretty clear to me that there was no way we could adopt Lucy. Still hoping there was a chance with us, Lucy’s foster mom said, “Is that normally how dogs are when they meet each other?” I wanted to laugh and say, “Only if one of the dogs is psycho!” I think I’m grounded from responding to random craigslist ads about dogs—at least for awhile. Maybe I should just look for kittens!
p.s.--this picture is of Razor and her best friend/girlfriend Cappy. Cappy lives in Minnesota.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Jobs
Marty has been spending time lately working on his resume and getting ready to get a new job. With the help of a number of books and our stake employment specialist, Marty got a very nice resume together (at least I thought it was good). This afternoon he hand delivered the resume, an application, and cover letter for a job. Before he even got home from dropping it off, the hiring manager had left a message on the home phone wanting to chat with Marty. We thought that was a pretty good sign. In the coming weeks Marty will be applying for more positions, so hopefully he will be able to find one that will be a good fit for him.
As for my job, it's going well. No exciting data or anything yet, but I think I have some interesting things in progress. Of course, funding is always an issue. This week my boss sent an to my group saying that we were way ahead of schedule on our spending and needed to slow down dramatically. Turns out he was looking that the numbers for a different group. Once we figured that out we all started breathing a little easier--it's not an issue of our paychecks being affected, but it's kind of impossible to do research without spending money. And without research, we can't publish. And if you don't publish, you perish. Them's the facts of life for a biomedical researcher.
Razor has really taken to her position as household manager. She is especially dilligent in overseeing all kitchen activities and managing the visitor relations department. I think she's vying for a promotion to expand her duties to cover the entire building and not just our apartment. (Don't tell her this, but I just don't think she's got enough experience to merit that kind of promotion yet.)
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Lady McBeth
CNN.com had a story today of a substitute teacher who got a sex change and is returning to teaching as Ms. McBeth when she used to be Mr. McBeth. The interesting thing to me about this story is not the controversy about whether elementary school children should be exposed to the issue of gender reassignment, or even this being a shining example of “diversity in action.” Nope. To me the interesting thing about this story is that McBeth is 71 years old. I just can’t understand why someone would decide that at the ripe old age of 71 that they are done being a man and ready to be a woman—and then to actually have gender reassignment surgery to make it happen. And since she has lived as a man for 70 years, gender reassignment can only do so much—it can’t reverse the fact that for years she’s had plenty of masculinizing testosterone coursing through her veins. The article notes that she has a “deep voice and masculine features but otherwise looks like a woman.” (Does that mean that you'd mistake her for a man if not for the dresses, long hair, and nail polish?) Anyway, it just struck me as interesting.
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