A Fish in the Crop

The best part of living 1200 miles south of my family and spending Christmas in the still green area of Central Texas? Receiving packages!! I love, love, love receiving mail, especially packages. Usually my mailbox is just full of junk. Two presents have come my way, including a pair of binoculars. Thank you very much, wonderful parents. Blake and I went to Aquarena Center yesterday, where Spring lake and the source of the San Marcos River is located, to test them out. We spotted a green heron stalking slowly in the water before gobbling down a fish. Dozens of turtles perched on logs in the lake to soak up the December sun. The turtles piled on top of one another. Some had a green symbiosis of some sort of photosynthetic organism on their shells. Through the lenses of the binoculars, I spotted pied-billed grebes, double-crested cormorants, black vultures, a song sparrow, a plethora of Carolina chickadees, Northern mocking birds, and a lone yellow-bellied sapsucker. What a wonderful and very much appreciated gift. Someday when I finished with my degrees, I will add "ornithologist" to my job description.

I have spent some time this past week to explore the eco-region that I now inhabit. Blake and I ventured Northwest of Austin to the Balcones Canyonlands National Wildlife Refuge. The day trip was just fantastic. We have never seen anything like it before. We were both in awe at the landscape. I was fascinated by the trees growing out of the rocky hillsides. Very little soil here; the limestone reigns on the Edward's Plateau. Blake enjoyed maneuvering his 1987 BMW through the steep and winding roads carved into the hillsides. We hiked 5 miles through the bluffs. Not too many organisms out since we went in the late morning through mid-day, but the scenery was worth the hike. I would like to go back in the spring to search for two endangered songbirds, the black-capped vireo and the golden-cheeked warbler.

What an opportunity! Living in a unique eco-region complete with endemic, rare, and endangered species! AND, I am studying birds for my Master's thesis! What a dream! Just think, I found this school on a search that had no direction, just the goal of finding somewhere, anywhere that would accept a graduate student with a not so great GRE score. I found exactly what I had been searching for; a program with talented and genuine students, wonderful faculty, a lovely landscape, and hills that tone my calves.

It still feels like dream. When do I wake up?

The winds of change

It's been a while. I apologize, but life has been busy for this graduate student lately. And the following was too important to write in just one day. It required a great amount of thought. 

The wedding.

I was lucky enough to spend a weekend in Minnesota and stand near the altar to witness my brother's nuptials.  Those four days were some of the best days of my life thus far. It was filled with reunions, laughter, happiness, and love. I cried many tears, mostly tears of joy. I cried when Nancy walked down the isle. I smiled the entire time. What an experience! Celebrating my brother's marriage with our families and friends! What an event! Full of love, joy, and beauty. 


I cannot recall a time when I felt so many positive emotions simultaneously. I don't think that I have ever been so happy. The bride and groom looked exquisite. Their faces beamed with joy. My face was glowing. Crystal, the photographer, posted the photos this week. She is truly talented. Emotions were captured perfectly. The joy, the laughter, the happy tears. I am privileged to have been there to share it with you. The colors were gorgeous; perfect for a snow-covered Minnesota autumn. The oranges, the reds. And Goldy the Golden Gopher in a tuxedo at the reception. Dad! What can I say? You are the best. 

Joshua, your speech was excellent. You had no reason to worry. You looked as handsome as ever. One of my favorite memories is you dancing, no vest or coat, just your orange tie and those suspenders. I love it. Diana, your speech was splendid. You are a very charming sister of Nancy, and I am glad to call you a friend.


Mom, you looked beautiful. Blake said to me (a few times), "Erin, your mom looks so good. Everyone looks great."


Ladies, you were gorgeous. The men were handsome, indeed. Nancy, you were breath-taking.
Well, at least I know I have a shot at looking good when I'm older.


My father made Nancy's engagement ring, which she accepted after a bike ride to a park near my mother's house. Joshua made the wedding bands.


I am grateful for the time I was given to spend with my family celebrating such a wonderful affair. I was lucky enough to reunite with my parents, my brothers, my grandparents, all other family members and some friends. It was brief, but what a magnificent opportunity life has provided me. 


Christian, over Independence Day at our family's cabin in 2008, you told me that you were going to propose to Nancy. I was incredibly happy for you. When I heard the news of your official engagement, I shed a few happy tears and was glowing. Ask Sehoya Cotner; I was at her house when I got the phone call from mom. 


Once, a wise person told me,  "at every celebration, there should be dancing."

Dancing there was. I danced for hours with my brothers, cousins, parents, friends, aunts, uncles. Shannon, now we have a song. Dancing with you will be with me for the rest of my days. I remember scenes with an incredible amount of detail. The song, the things I felt, the joy emitting from my preteen cousins dancing with us. 

Blake danced with me. He rarely dances but he held me close and danced with me. It was romantic and wonderful.

We were all there together. What a wonderful way to spend four days. I wish we had more time together, but I am glad for the time we had.

Leaving was extremely difficult. Minnesota is still the best place on Earth, to me. Home is where the heart the is.


A blizzard rolled into the Twin Cities last night with cold, windy might. It might sound crazy, but I miss it. I wish I was there. The last blizzard of this scale was Halloween of 91. Oddly, I wasn't there because I with my mom visiting my grandparents in Fort Worth, TX. 


For the first time here, I felt like an outsider. And I had an intense longing for Minnesota. 


I miss you. Everything about you, -25 F and two feet of snow. All or nothing. 


I have a sister-in-law, officially now. But to me Nancy, you have always been my sister and my family.


To Mr. and Mrs. Feichtinger, I wish you all the happiness and love in the world. Congratulations.

Sunset

6 more days until I arrive in Minneapolis, MN. My excitement is difficult to express in words. I cannot believe that Christian is getting married. It feels unreal. While talking to my dad tonight,

"Dad, can you believe that Christian is getting MARRIED next Saturday?"

"Isn't it somethin'?," he replied.

I have been dreaming about the upcoming event all week. Last night I had a dream that I forgot my bridesmaid shoes in TX. 

Am I even the same Erin that left Minnesota in July? In some ways. But I have changed a great deal. My whole life is changing at a rapid pace. My brother is getting married next week. Imaging the ceremony feels like a dream, not real. I am very happy for you. I am grateful that you asked me to be a bridesmaid and that I get to celebrate with you. 


"Home is not really a place, but more a place in your head," a friend told me today.


I certainly felt that way frequently as an older child and teenager. 


"You make your own home," he continued.


Indeed.

Reflections over black coffee

I recently had my feelings hurt, but my only choice is to just let it go. Sometimes it is difficult to just get over something, but I have found that in many cases, it is for the best. I stepped back and reminded myself that the bigger picture is more important. I asked myself, "will this matter in a month? In a year? In ten years?". Probably not. The offending action still hurts a little, but the upcoming event is too important for people that I care about that I just have to let it go. In the past, I would have held a grudge for a while. Months maybe. Life is too short. Oh, how far I have come.

"Blake, are you excited that are going to Minnesota in ELEVEN DAYS?!!?"


"Yea, but it is bittersweet."


"Well, I know it's only four days, but at least we are going!"

I wish we were staying longer, too. But, I will take four short days over no time at all. All this time that I have lived in Texas, I have known that a wedding in November would bring me back to the place I love. After this, uncertainty is the name of the game. I have no idea when I will make it back to Minnesota after next week.  The good news is that my mom and Auntie Cheryl are coming to visit in January. And hopefully my dad and Josh will come next spring...? (Hint, hint if you are reading!) 


My cousin Patrick will not be attending the upcoming nuptials. Lt Laine is Germany and will not be able to take leave from the Army. He will be missed. We wish you were coming, Lt Laine. I am serious when I say that I am coming to visit you next summer. I'll be at the Frankfurt airport next August. I'll be there. 





 

Time

It is difficult to focus. All I think about is going to Minnesota in just two weeks. I am looking forward to seeing my parents again. The reunion with those you miss after an extended period of time is a grand moment. 


The day I arrived in Minneapolis after four months in Hawaii was an unseasonably warm day in December. My phone had died and I was uncertain if Blake knew where to pick me up. I was frantic and near tears when I turned around and spotted him walking towards me smiling. It was surreal and wonderful. And it was like we were never apart. 


When I arrived at my mother's house, she came out of the front door at the sight of Blake's car in the driveway. She was smiling and it was like no time had passed. When I saw my dad, the same phenomenon occurred. It was as if no time had passed. I can't wait for those moments to happen again. 

I miss my parents. I miss my brothers. 

Two more weeks. An interruption to madness. 

The puzzle and the lack of solutions

Even my students have noticed. Today, instead of an actual quiz I had them give me a review of my teaching abilities. A few told me to stop thinking that they are judging me because they are not, they actually think that I am great. There is a group of students that sit near the back and chit chat most of my lecture. Occasionally, I'll say something then they giggle. Perhaps because of my anxiety, I'll ask them if they are laughing at me. The answer is always the same.

"No! You just use all these big words! You are so smart, I want to be like that! You love science and are excited!"

Sure enough, those same students told me to relax on their reviews. A few others told me the same things. 

A few weeks in professional development, I was speaking in a class discussion when some of the students started to laugh. 

Distracted, I asked, "Are you laughing at me?"

"No, we are laughing at Craig!" was the response. He happened to be texting as the rest of the class was discussing how students text during class. 

I have a terrible self-esteem. Most of the readers will be thinking, "obviously!" I'm high strung, anxious, and emotional. I am a perfectionist, extremely sensitive, and I care way too much about what other people think. 

I did not change much, after all. I thought I was doing better, but I was in a limbo. I was not living in academia. Here I am again, falling into the same traps and habits.

It's been a struggle for as long as I can remember. 

I'm just not sure how to fix it. 

Broiled Plums with Vanilla Greek Yogurt

I want a garden and a compost pile. If the yard is large enough, perhaps we could have a few chickens. I want to have an "eco-scape" yard, one that is designed to work with nature. I would like a patch of prairie grasses and a butterfly garden. This house has to be in Minnesota, of course. 


The kitchen must have a large window facing the yard above the sink. There will be bird feeders. Maybe a swing set and a playground, maybe.


I want a yard where I can plant a few trees. 


And I would like a cider press. 


I would like wood floors, an induction range and a dual oven. A plethora of counter space is required to accommodate all of my kitchen gadgets. When did I become so domestic?


Cooking is a joy. I find it relaxing. And healthy since I know exactly what is going into my food. 


Blake gave me a wok and a fantastic vegetarian cookbook for Christmas last year. And a Carl Sagan book. What a wonderful boyfriend you are. 


If we have offspring, we will probably have a menagerie, since both you and I enjoy pets, including unconventional ones.  


This week, I am going to start the introduction for my thesis proposal, rough draft #1. Shrikes shrikes shrikes, it's all about you now! 


On Thursday, the Killer Klowns will come from outer space. There will be homemade pizza and rice krispie treats. It's "dude night plus Erin".

My friend Sasa made me feel better about some things last night. She's good people. 

MN in 3 weeks.


Life is good.

The Tale of Paul Bunyan Forest

The teenage scientist was fiery, emotional, moody, sassy, and sharp. Maybe some things never change...? Anyway, when I was a young teenager, I went with my grandparents, Auntie Marnia and her family to Northern Minnesota for a week every August. It included fishing, boating, swimming, card games, and amazing meals complements of my talented grandparents and Auntie Marina.

One year, I think it was when I was 13, Grandma, Auntie Marina, Aleksander, a very young Brennen, and I went for a day drive to Paul Bunyan Forest. This forest has one narrow dirt road in which visitors can drive to be close to nature! Or something like that. We entered the forest in the minivan in the late morning. 

As we were slowly making our way through the forest, the conversation turned to wild animals. 

"Grandma, what would do if a mountain lion walked in front of the van?" I asked.

"Well, I would just watch and wait for it to leave. If a mountain man, however, came walking up, I would be a little concerned. And I might have to use the van if he became feisty." she replied.

"You would run over a mountain man??" I asked.

"If he was threatening us, sure. I might have to use force."


I must have been acting like a stubborn, moody teenager, because then the conversation took an interesting turn.


"We just might have to send you out to deal with the mountain man. He'll need a female to procreate out there in the woods," Grandma said with Auntie Marina's approval.


"WHAT??!!!? You would leave me with a mountain man?!!!!?!?! TO MAKE BABIES! THAT'S GROSS! OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO THAT!!!" I protested. 

"If we needed to offer you up so he would leave us alone, yes. I'm too old and Marina already has children. You are young so you'll do," Grandma reasoned. 

"You would leave your own granddaughter and niece to a mountain man!! That is so mean! I can't believe you two would do that!!!!!"

We ventured in and after sometime, we spotted an small A-frame cabin off in the forest.

"I wonder if someone still uses that cabin," Auntie Marina wondered, "there's a wood pile there, so probably."

"Erin, go check it out. We'll wait here," Grandma said.

"ARE YOU NUTS?!? You just said that you would leave me with a mountain man!" I replied. 

As we continued to follow the road, the conversation drifted back and forth between the lack of animals and the mountain man. We drove through this boring forest (remember, I was 13) for what seemed like a tortuous eternity. 

"We have been driving here forever. There is nothing out!" I complained. 

"I think we've been driving in circles. We might be lost, Erin. That tree looks familiar," Auntie Marina said. 

Grandma and Auntie Marina start laughing.

"Heh, heh, heh, heh, AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

A logger truck appeared from nowhere and there was almost a collision. I imagine that the truck driver was just as surprised as Grandma and Auntie Marina. 

This story is one of those classic family tales that is told at holidays, or any large family gathering. The sound of Grandma and Auntie Marina's giggles turning to screams will never escape my memory.

Well said, GC

"There's a larger story here, namely the abandonment of truth and detachment from reality of a large segment of the American population. On climate change, evolution, WMD in Iraq, healthcare and a host of other issues the common denominator is that a large number of people prefer to believe what makes them feel good in preference to evidence, facts, expertise and best practice.

Coupled with the structural dysfunction of the American system of government these ignorant people and their media and political representatives are capable of blocking any effective change or adaptation to the new, global, technological world of the 21st century.

And so America crumbles.

Today in America truth is in retreat and darkness is spreading."

Comment on an article in the NY Times about the Tea Party and global warming 

More tales about the Scientist's childhood

I really should be working right now, but writing about whatever I want and listening to my Pandora station is so much more appealing. Lately, I have been blogging about my childhood and stories about my brothers. Last night, I shared some memories of my older brother in honor of his pending nuptials. It was difficult to pay attention in statistics today, well especially difficult. I kept thinking about my brothers and how excited I am for November 18. My younger brother, Joshua, is the best man. So, following the theme of describing memories of my family, the following is a tribute to my younger sibling. 

Oh Joshua, where do I even begin? I wish I remembered the day you came home from the hospital. I had just turned 2 four weeks prior to your birth. I have a photo of Christian and I, smiling from ear to ear at our new baby brother. Suddenly, I became the middle child and the only girl.

You were the child that made our mother's hair turn gray. You were very naughty. Once, you threw tipped the cat box over onto a pile of clean clothes. You terrorized my cat Snertz by trapping her under laundry baskets and you even through her down the laundry shoot once.

Remember when you pushed the frozen 23 lb Thanksgiving turkey down the stairs? Mom and dad brought it in and I watched you push it over the first stair. It made a large crash and a huge hole in the wall at the base of the stairs. 

Remember when I dressed you up in my Hawaiian print dress and put mom's makeup on you? 

Remember when you would fill buckets and cups with water in the tub and splash it out?

"JOSHUA! Are you splashing water out of the tub??!" yelled our mother.

SPLASH! SPLASH!

"No!" you replied. 

You drove me absolutely nuts when were children. You continued to bother me when we were teenagers. You would come into my room and never leave. You were relentless! 


"Erin, I'll leave when you tell me how many seeds are in an apple," you would say. You terrorized me with household objects. You used to whack me with wrapping paper tubes and anything you could find. Remember when you whipped me with that plastic thing?


"Erin, if you say I am the whipper man! I will leave you alone!"


When your bedroom was moved downstairs, you refused to sleep down there. You would sneak into my bedroom and sleep on the floor. I protested, but mom just told me to shut up and let you sleep there. 


We fought violently. We punched and kicked. We exchanged extremely harsh words. We had screaming matches for the whole neighborhood to hear. 

Mom and dad bought you your first paintball gun one Christmas. I was terrified. Sure enough, you shot me a few times.

"Erin, open the door," you said outside my bedroom. As soon as I opened it, you shot me in the chest with the paintball gun. Another time, I was sitting at the family computer, minding my own business, when I looked over at you. You were crouched on the floor and orange paint was everywhere! On my legs, all over the floor. You didn't even get in trouble! I had a welt on my thigh. 


Before the paintball guns, you had a rubber band rifle. You shot me in the eye. It hit me about a millimeter below my eye. 


If I tried to lock you out of my room, you went outside and retrieved the ladder to climb up through the window. 


Remember when you lit a bottle rocket off in the kitchen sink?

Remember when you put a hashbrown patty in the microwave for 20 minutes instead of 2? It started on fire and black smoke poured out of the microwave.


But, sometimes we were the best of friends. You could always make me laugh. We loved quoting our favorite movies. We loved the movie North. 


Remember the mickey mouse game and zombies ate my neighbors? Remember when we convinced mom to let us stay up late on a school night so we could beat the mickey game? Remember when we watched the Grinch over and over again? 

When I got my first camera from Grandpa Fisher for Christmas, you were obsessed with taking pictures of your butt.

We made plays together and dreamed up amazing stories. We played vampires. 


Remember the Mickey Mouse Halloween and Christmas movies? We loved watching those together.


You visited me a number of times my junior year of college when I lived in the house off Como Ave. We partied and you hung out with my friends. 


When you turned 21 this summer, mom said to me, "I'm so glad we made it here, it was a little hairy for a while."


It's true Josh, you have certainly come a long way. Recently, you and I have had some wonderful conversations. You are becoming interested in science and global happenings. I told Blake how impressed I was at the things you now know. 


I cannot believe that you spent 2.5 months alone in San Francisco. You are a very talented jeweler. I am so proud of you. 


I really miss you. When we were growing up, our parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles reassured me that someday, you and I were going to be the best of friends. I protested, saying that you drove me nuts and I would never be your best friend. I guess they knew something I did not. 


I am impressed at how far you have come. When I think back to all of our fights, all of the tears and harsh words, I can't believe we made it here. I am so glad. 


When I moved to Texas, something amazing happened. All of the anger I held towards you and all of the members of our family just floated away. What happened, happened. I cannot change the past, I can only move forward. 


I am happy that you are my brother. I just wish I could see you more. I can't wait for November.

The Wedding, part II and stories of the Scientist's older brother

Writing is a relief. I find solace in the words, flowing from my cerebral cortex out of my fingertips. 

The wedding is drawing closer. The next few weekends will bring numerous wedding showers. Gifts with my name on it are there. Yet, I am the ghost bridesmaid, off somewhere, unable to participate in the pre-wedding festivities. 

Soon, a plane will take me North. I will have the privilege to witness my brother upcoming nuptials. Oh, how wonderful and surreal! My brother getting married?! Remember when we were just children? As the oldest, you occasionally had the task of watching your two younger siblings. Once, you locked Josh and I out the house on a summer's day while our mom was at work. We swam in the backyard pool in our clothes while you enjoyed the air conditioner and the absence of your younger siblings. 

One fall day, you, Josh and I were playing football on the hill next to the house. You were wearing your shoulder pads. I was not wearing any protective equipment. You ran at me, full speed, with your characteristic smirk and tackled me down the hill. 

Whenever I think of us as children, your GI Joe figurines come to mind. Along with Super Nintendo, Donkey Kong, and Top Gun. Remember when you and I were in the same junior high? You were in 9th grade and I was in 7th. The first time I saw you in school, I approached you at your locker and said, "hi!" You told me not to talk to you. 

Remember when you drove the saturn? I became tolerant of rock music after riding in your car (Mom forced you to help chauffeur Josh and I around). Once, you picked me up from cheerleading practice in the escort wagon. You left the passenger side window open the night before and it rained. I got in the car and sat down in a soaking seat. 

Remember your long, curly hair and tube socks? I wish I had photo to post.

When I made it to high school, you were a senior. This time, you actually talked to me. It pleased your female friends. You had a great group of buddies when you were in high school. I thought you were so cool. I was envious. 

When you and I were growing up, we stayed out of each others way. I do not recall us fighting very often. You and I were not very close. Josh and I fought and interacted constantly, but you and I, well we did our own things. 

One 4th of July holiday, you were drunk and a angry drunken Nancy who fell into a mud puddle had passed out. We hung out for the rest of the night. You tried to tell us scary stories about Alien but it was entertaining and hilarious instead.

The first time we had a deep conversation as adults only happened two years ago. You told me to call you anytime I needed to talk. 

This past Independence Day, you gave me a hug and told me your were very proud of me for attending graduate school. 

I still cannot believe that you are getting married. We may have avoided each other as kids, but let's be friends as adults. After all, so the story goes, you were my first friend. My baby book says that you were enamored with me as an infant.

I can't wait to see you up there on the altar and I can't wait to celebrate with you. 

The Odd Couple

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More tales from the Loquacious Northern Girl in the Land of Y'all

I am awash in the ocean of graduate school. I bob up and down as the days float by, amid freshman biology assignments, scientific literature and loggerhead shrikes. Excitement and anxiety fill me simultaneously, nearly constantly. Fortunately, the emotion of excitement is larger than the other. 


My thoughts buzz around in my head, bouncing here and there off the walls of my cerebral cortex. So many ideas, so little time. 


Since July, I have had the same dream over and over. I am back in Minnesota for some untold reason and I must return to Texas. The details vary, sometimes I have left the rats, sometimes I have the cats in MN, sometimes Blake is there. But, the main plot remains constant. 


I haven't had this dream in a few nights. It seems that wild and vivid dreams are back in my nightly repertoire. I dream about strikingly orange tigers, orca whales eating sea otters and bottlenose dolphins at an aquarium, lions with extravagant manes, and various other creatures. The dreams are horrific and fantastic, filled with danger and mystery. 


The Texas autumn has been warm and perfect. I am amused at the fall attire of the Texans. To be fair, the temperature drops to a low 55-65 degrees at night and in the morning. The sight of fall sweaters, jackets and boots is delightful to see, but it still reaches 80 during the day. I love when I hear a Texan say, "it's getting cold!" Giggles echo inside my brain. You won't catch me wearing long sleeves, not just yet. The crisp temperatures of the morning and evening remind me of my beloved place of birth. 

The loquacious Northern girl attracts giggles and amusement from the Texans when words like bag, lag, agriculture, Minnesota leave her mouth. 


I recently discovered Pandora, potentially one of the best things to come out of the recent technological flurry. I just want to jam. Who needs to work when you can listen to music instead?

The road life takes

Last fall, a good friend of mine and I went to see Whip It, a movie about the female roller derby in Austin. There really is a roller derby like the one featured in the film. 

"Dude, I hear that Austin is where all the liberals are in TX," remarked my dear friend.


"Yea, if I HAD to live in TX, I would absolutely live around Austin," I replied.

At the time, my plan to attend graduate school in TX was nonexistent. Life is funny. 

In exactly one month, Blake and I will leave from Austin, TX on a jet plane to Minneapolis, MN. I am giddy and excited, like a child on a holiday. I am imaging the reunion with the people I left behind. The idea of my brother and Nancy standing at the altar, reciting their vows, seems surreal and magical. I just can't wait. 


Blake and I decided to stay in San Marcos for Christmas. It makes me sad, but I am looking forward to beginning new traditions, here, deep in the heart of Texas, with Blake and our family of assorted vertebrates. 


Yesterday evening, on my journey to the HEB, a train forced the cars to wait. 


"Ping, ping, ping, ping," screeches the train as the wheels roll along the rusty bronze tracks. Whenever I see a train, I think of my grandfather. He worked for Burlington Northern. My first experience of Texas was visiting my late grandparents in Fort Worth when I was a small child. 


The reality that I reside in San Marcos, TX still feels like a dream. After nearly 3.5 months, it still does not seem real. The thought still amazes me. Not a day goes by that I do not ponder how fantastically crazy my life has become. Somehow, this move has brought me closer to my family members. I talked to my grandmother for over an hour on Saturday. We talked about Bill Maher, birds, black bears, top soil erosion, and politics. Seventy-four years old and she is as sharp and brilliant as ever. 


I cannot wait for the moment when my fantasy of the reunion with my parents, brothers, and the rest of my family becomes a reality. 


Oh, how far I have come! Dare I say it, I am happy.

The Scientist's Parents

When I was a child, there was a play room in the basement of my mother's house that was filled with toys of all sorts, dozens of barbies, GI Joe figurines, toy cars, dolls, legos, and much more. I had a beautiful American Girl doll complete with multiple outfits and a doll-sized bed. If my doll was not occupying the bed, my cat Snertz would gladly take my doll's place. My brothers and I are very lucky, indeed.

My mother is an avid reader. So, we also had a bountiful collection of books. Books about animals, books about history, books about dinosaurs. There were books with fantastic and terrifying tales!

I was a highly imaginative child. I made up stories and danced around the basement wearing princess dresses. Sometimes, I imagined I was a witch with awesome powers! Other times, I pretended I was a vampire and other mythical creatures. I was the girl with wild hair and a wild imagination.

When 3 years of age came to pass, I was enrolled in dance lessons. How I loved performing on stage! I loved the brilliant fabric and colors of the costumes. The stage was calling for me.

The mother and father gladly paid for these (expensive) hobbies, as well as played chauffeur.

My parents gave me Cats! for Christmas one year. I watched it everyday for the remainder of the winter.

One of my favorite rituals was my mother reading from my favorite fairy tale book.

"Read more!" I said joyfully.

"It's time for bed, Erin," my mother replied.

"But, I want to hear more stories!" I protested.

When I spent the weekend at my dad's house with my two brothers and two step brothers, we would all eat dinner together. I was enamored with my dad's tales of growing up in an exotic land called Hawai'i. He told us stories about the brothers at the Catholic school he attended and about him making boar sounds to California tourists in the forest.

"Dad, tell the story again! I want to hear the story about the spider in the phone booth!!!" I would beg him enthusiastically.

I do not recall my father reading novels, but he loved photo books of space, of animals, of history, anything interesting! We even gave him books of this sort as gifts a few times. He had one on ancient structures from all over the world. Relics of peoples and a culture long gone. I poured over the photographs of Machu Picchu, Easter Island, Stonehenge, and the Pyramids at Giza, to name a few. I wished that someday, I would get the opportunity to travel to these wonders.

"Why? Why does that happen? But, WHY???" were common questions leaving my mouth.

"I don't know, Erin. Go look it up," was the common response.

My parents readily admitted when they did not know something and inadvertently encouraged me to discover the answer. They unknowingly gave me a priceless gift.

My father had a high interest in space. He had wonderful photo books about the vastness. He loves science fiction films, especially ones with extraterrestrial plots. I grew up fascinated with the universe.

"Dad, if you had the chance to travel to outer space, would you?" I asked him once.

"Absolutely," he replied.

"Good, me too."

My parents were never scientists, but they had a large role in me becoming one. Thank you, mom and dad, for captivating my imagination and providing me with all of those books to capture my attention. You fostered my need to know, helped me develop into an inquirer, a scientist.

Where would I be without you? You gave me the encouragement and support to turn my passion of inquiry into a career path. I cannot thank you enough. I love you.

The Wedding, part I

Back in the spring of 2003, I was still an awkward teenager approaching my sixteenth birthday and the end of my first year in high school. For as long as I can remember, my father played softball on Tuesday nights at a suburban park in Apple Valley. As soon as my brothers reached the age of 18, they began playing, too.

One particular Tuesday, I joined my father and brothers at the fields like every week in the spring. My brother Christian pulled me aside before their second game and informed me that his friend from school is here to watch.

"Erin, see that girl over there," he said pointing towards the bleachers, "you should go talk to her. Her name is Nancy."

"You want me to just go over there and start talking to her? I don't even know her!" I protested.

"Just do it."

I complied and approached a long-haired brunette.

"Hello, I'm Erin, Christian's sister."

She greeted me and we held a conversation for a while. After the games finished and Nancy left, I asked my brother why he wanted me to talk to her. It seems this girl was the object of his affections. She had a boyfriend, however.

Five years later, I was spending my fourth of July at my family's cabin in northern Minnesota. Christian pulled his heavily intoxicated sister aside and said, "Erin, I am going to ask Nancy to marry me. How do you feel about that?"

"ARE YOU SERIOUS!!!??!? THAT IS GREAT! I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!" I exclaimed drunkenly while hugging my older brother.

The following month, the proposal plan was set. It was so romantic. I was glowing with happiness for my brother and his new fiancee.

Now, it is October 2010. Christian and Nancy are tying the knot in under two months. I could not be happier for them.

After they became officially engaged, I was astounded at my ability to feel so much happiness for people who are not me. My sheer joy almost brought me to tears. They asked me to be a part of their wedding and I accepted with honor. On November 20th, I am going to watch them get married. I imagine that I will feel the same selfless happiness and joy that I felt when I heard about their engagement.

These last few years have happened to coincidence with my own personal journey of discovery, that is still continuing today. I had my share of clashes with the woman who stole my brother, including nearly eight months of minimal contact.

Congratulations Nancy and Christian, I couldn't be happier for you.

Thoughts in September

There were once days, that started when I was just a teenager, that I sat in a classroom laboratory listening to a graduate student teach us about challenging and foreign concepts.

Now I am the instructor. I had a frustrating moment in my first section today. For those of you who know me well, you may have assumed that I started to cry and possibly had a small meltdown. You will be pleased hear that I did not experience either, I solved the problem after a few sighs and about two minutes of awkward silence.

Two minutes felt like a lifetime in the stuffy classroom with twenty pairs of eyes gazing on me. But there is a bright side.

I think humility goes a long way. I feel that my students are comfortable in the classroom. I truly enjoy teaching and I would like to improve my skill.

"Who am I becoming?" I thought after my second section this evening.

Suddenly I am graduate student Erin and instructional assistant Erin. This time around, I quite calm. My stress management techniques improved greatly. Thank you, modern medicine and exercise (among many things). I have an office. I recently purchased a ridiculously awesome phone. Technology is just crazy.

Remember having AOL and dial-up internet? My first cell phone was a large, clunky Nokia with a pink leopard print case. I used to put it in a back pocket of my jeans for the first phase of high school. I have certainly come a long way.

Lately, I have been more interested in the history of science and the human endeavor. Everything is always changing. Nothing is static, everything is dynamic. Science cannot prove anything true; scientific knowledge is not absolute.

Most of my peers do not like the development seminar we are required to take as IA's, but here's a (no longer) secret: I like it. I am interested in the history of science and science education. I hope to be a science teacher, even for just a few years.

I will watch the Gophers play tomorrow in North Austin with some people I met through the U of M Alumni-Austin Chapter. Good times.

Saturdays are still difficult, I miss crisp autumn air, the scent of senescence and the apple orchards. I miss my dad, my brothers, and my mom.

But, I am still glad to be here. I have been very lucky, indeed.

Life is good

The days rush by in a whirlwind of poorly constructed emails from students, presentation preparation, endless literature about loggerhead shrikes, grassland birds, and scissor-tailed flycatchers, and a battle with statistics. Some days I love statistics and other days it makes me incredibly frustrated.

Last weekend, I ventured to Austin to attend a Gopher football party with people whom I have never met. I contemplated the decision to go or not to go all week. At first when I arrived in the Lone Star State's capital, I strayed around a corner of downtown Austin. Driven to tears in the enveloping late summer heat, I called my mother frantically because I could not find the address that I sought. I felt like the world's biggest idiot. Wandering around Austin in search of a place that I had never been, full of people whom I never met. After a kind gentleman directed me to the correct cross streets, I spotted a man wearing a Gopher tee shirt. Upon arriving at the party, my anxiety drifted away. The host and guests are friendly, intelligent and diverse. I met with them again yesterday to watch the Gophers play USC.

The rain fell from the sky on a dreary, cooler late summer day in Texas. A shot of the Minneapolis skyline over the stadium came on the television. A perfect 60 degree day with mostly sunny skies. It almost brought me to tears. I long for the Minnesota autumn.

"My whole family is there right now," I thought, "how I long for the crisp air of a Minnesota September."

Driving down the interstate towards San Marcos at sunset while listening to Jimi Hendrix, I still cannot believe that I live in Texas. I drove cross country with my boyfriend, cats, and rats to commence a new adventure.

It all still feels like a dream. Life is crazy. Life is good.

Moon River

"The time is right to make new friends," the fortune reads. I do not believe in fortunes or anything oracle. But, I'll take it as a reminder that relationships, friendships included, take time to build. School has distracted me from the fact that I still do not have many friends. My mind races, and I think that something is wrong with me.

"It's not you, it's me."

But is it you? Or is it me?

Perhaps it's all in my inner fears. Perhaps it is not real at all. But could it be?

Today is an old friend's birthday. On her eighteenth birthday six years ago, she invited me to her mother's house. We had homemade purple strawberry ice cream and cheesecake. It was truly a privilege to be a part of such a celebration.

I was seventeen then, just a girl full of day dreams about the next stage of life. I had just began my final year in the secondary school system. I thought I was going to study neuroscience at the University of Minnesota and go on to medical school afterward. I had no idea that I could be such thing as a field ecologist. My world was about to explode with opportunity. If I could have peered into a crystal ball about my future, I would not have believed my own eyes.

Who did I think I would become? I spent time wondering where I would be in my twenties. A world that seemed so far away and now here I am, swept up in the challenges of new adulthood. Of course, I still spend time wondering where I will be in the future. But, I like reminiscing about that seventeen year old girl.

Tomorrow is the first home game of the Minnesota Gopher football team. Every day, piece by piece, this new universe falls into place. Piece by piece, I realize that it is truly a new era in my existence. It will be the first home game in nearly fifteen years that I will miss. As a girl, I joined my father at the Gopher home games on Saturdays in the crisp MN fall. I wore my maroon and gold while the proud father shared his dreams of his children attending the University of Minnesota, his own Alma mater. Gopher Saturdays were the bond between father and daughter. That bond carried through the daughter's college years.

What will those Saturdays bring now?

My own parallel universe

The first two weeks of the semester have come and gone. I am starting to gather information and ideas for my thesis. Whenever the thought of loggerhead shrikes enters my head, excitement fills me and bubbles out like an test tube experiment in a high school chemistry class.

In the kitchen, a friend told me, "I have never met someone who is excited as you about things.

I couldn't believe that there I was, standing opposite of her in the kitchen on a late summer's eve, with tears slowly filling my eyes. I wanted to avoid moments of that nature. The opinions of my adviser and my two office mates (and the other grad students and faculty) matter to me. I do not wish to convey the impression that I do not want to be here in Texas.

I suppose I knew it would be a challenge, but the rewards are great.

The following is difficult to write, it is a glimpse into some of my most inner thoughts. The workings of Erin exposed for the blog world to see. Arrogance is feared. Lately, my appearance has garnished much attention. This is where the aforementioned fear comes into play. I do not intend to brag. Just to report my life happenings. I felt slightly ashamed for wearing shorts to teach my first labs.

"If you were my TA, I would have a hard time paying attention." Giggles and smiles followed.

I do not wish to abuse this new found power of an hour glass and the letter D. Perhaps the fear of seeming arrogant prevents my acceptance of myself as a sexy woman. Or something like that.

I miss Minnesota. For unknown reasons that night, I was longing for Minnesota. I felt slightly glum and had a difficult time controlling my emotions. This experience has been full of highs and a few, very slight, lows. I often have simultaneous feelings of excitement and anxiety. Do not misread this, I very much enjoy residing in San Marcos, TX. The school is wonderful, the people in the department are interesting and engaging, and there is this great synergy between the graduate students. I cannot believe I actually just typed "synergy".

But, I expect that it is normal to miss the life where I was comfortable. Texas feels like a different world. A sort of parallel universe, one that is similar to my world in many respects, but in other ways, it is dramatically different. The money, federal laws, and the language are common ground. The rest is like I fell into an alternative universe. A place where things are almost the same, but they are not quite right, something is off. For example, the roads still have yellow and white lines and we still drive on the right side (obviously) but something is different.

This universe has breakfast tacos and H-E-B. Tropical storms are a concern here. The rain is falling from the sky with no end in sight. At least for the next 24 hours. Thank you tropical storm Hermine. The water pools on the roads due to the limestone just below the surface of the Earth here. I learned an important lesson recently in this parallel universe, do not drive in heavy rains. You may drown.

However, it is an amazingly exotic and dreamy world. As mentioned above, people think that I am exotic and exciting! The idea is ludicrous and amusing!

I will admit that I absolutely love it.

Loggerhead Shrikes on the Mind

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_zfyAx_z_8

For my Master's thesis, I am going to study an avian species named the loggerhead shrike. It known as the "butcher bird" (see video). I am extremely excited to start working out the details and write my proposal in time for my first field season next spring. I may also be looking at the behavior/nesting of scissor-tailed flycatchers (who breed in a similar habitat as the loggerhead shrike). I have spent hours and hours this week searching through the available scientific literature on shrikes, field methods of estimating bird populations, and on kingbirds (the group to which the scissor-tailed flycatcher belongs). I have read about ten papers and I have a long list of more to read. I cannot wait to get started on the proposal writing! I would like to look at nesting behaviors/fledgling success! Exciting!!!

My first day of teaching is today. At 2 PM, I will officially be an IA. Yikes. I am excited and still nervous. Updates about the experience to follow.

The New Normal

Last Wednesday, the semester officially began. Before I started, I was not entirely sure what to expect. The life of a graduate student is very different from the life of an undergraduate. I have an office (!) with two wonderful office mates. My desk is spacious and surrounded with photos and quirky little souvenirs from the places I have visited. We have a couch. And a fridge, coffee maker, and a toaster oven. We also have a lone hermit crab and two leopard geckos named Eli-zard-beth and Falkor.

I am taking two courses, two seminars, and I am teaching two lab sections for intro organismal biology for freshman. My first day of teaching is this Friday. I am extremely excited but nervous. The thought of twenty pairs of eyes staring at me while I stand at the front of the room seems slightly intimidating. But, I watched an experienced IA teach a lab today so I feel a little more comfortable.

The old normal was up at 5 AM and off to work at the kitchen at local nursing home in Cambridge, MN. It was coming home at 1:30 or 2:30 PM and exercising. Dinner was ready around 6 or 7. Blake only worked 40-45 hours a week and was home for dinner every night. The old normal was driving an hour to the Twin Cities, but I drove there once or twice a week. My mom, dad, and brothers were only an hour's drive away. It was filled with satellite television, a very generous aunt and uncle, miniature dachshunds and four cats. There was a compost pile and a variety of avian species that visited the backyard. It was full of waiting. The old normal was a limbo.

The new normal is awake around 7:15 AM, then breakfast with organic coffee, served black. Music plays while I get dressed and brush my teeth. It is hot all of the time. When I left my apartment this morning at 7:35 AM, the temperature was already 82 F. Sweat was pouring off me as a locked up my bike outside the Supple Science Building. The new normal is finding me in my office. It is only seeing my parents and brothers through a video chat online (wonderful, wonderful technology!). It is Blake leaving for work at 7:25 AM and arriving home around 7:30 PM five, sometimes six, days a week. The new normal is a busy schedule. It is grocery shopping at the H-E-B (Here Everything's Better), purchasing gas from the Yellow Store/Shell Stations or Valero. It is filled with mockingbirds, live oaks, Carolina chickadees, and rivers. The new normal is eating breakfast tacos with hot sauce. The new normal feels right.

This whole experience still feels like a dream. I often think, "I live in Texas??!!?!?! I am a graduate student now??!? LIFE IS CRAZY!!!"

Last year was wretched and full of uncertainty. I am so glad I made it here. I absolutely love it. I feel extremely lucky.

I am going to study loggerhead shrikes for my thesis.

Life is good.

All these things that I've done

"The Lorax said nothing. Just gave me a glance...just gave me very sad, sad backward glance as he lifted himself by the seat of his pants. And I'll never forget the grim look on his face when he heisted himself and took leave of his place, through a hole in the smog, without leaving a trace."

I wish that I could, or that someone or something could, lift me away by the seat of my pants. Up, up, up through a hole in the clouds and back to a more comfortable place. But there are no clouds. Just the endless blue of the ozone and the heat. The thick enveloping heat. The asphalt and concrete absorbs it and spits it back it. I do not like the feeling of my feet burning through my shoes as I walk step by step across the city.

I thought I was happy but I suppose that I had deceived myself. I thought I finally knew what it was like to say with confidence and assurance that I was indeed happy. Maybe I was. But I lately I found myself teetering on the edge and then suddenly at the drop of a hat, I went plummeting down, down, down. That little pink pill is ineffective now, I guess.

I thought I was strong enough. I was deceived. I feared this place, hidden deep in my cerebral cortex. How could I have been so foolish to think that I could make it? That I was strong enough to move to a place so different and so far from everything I knew. I wasn't strong enough.

I wish I was different. I wish I was prettier, slimmer, wittier, funnier, charming, never socially awkward. I wish I was cool and normal. I wish I was not exceptionally loquacious. I wish I was less intelligent; then perhaps I would not have the capacity to ponder questions such as the origin of the Universe. I wish I was less sensitive, less emotional, and less timid. I wish I had the power to become invisible. I could just disappear at the blink of an eye and hide in plain sight.

I wish I was not me.

I left the office in tears. They poured down my freckled cheeks. Luckily there was no one around to notice.

I don't know anymore what it's for
I'm not even sure
If there is anyone who is in the sun
Will you help me to understand
'Cause I been caught in between all I wish for and all I need
Maybe you're not even sure what it's for
Any more than me

Dreams, death, and the short version of me as an atheist

I am lucky (or cursed) enough to remember, in vivid detail, the dreams I have immediately before I wake. Sometimes I wake up with my heart racing in a sweat around 3 AM in the middle of a horrific dream or I awaken around 8 AM (the time I usually rise from bed) from a colorful and bizarre dream. Until now, I rarely have reoccurring dreams. I once had dream a few times about a badger biting my ankles and I occasionally dream about my brother's pending nuptials. Ever since I moved to TX, I have the same dream nearly every time I sleep. I dream that I am back in MN for some untold reason and I have to drive all the way back to TX. I see people that I left behind and explain to them that I moved to TX and it is understood that I have to journey back. I am filled with anxiety and dread about driving 1200 miles.

"The drive is over," I reassure myself upon waking, "you are here in TX now, after months of anticipation. You are all moved in to your apartment. You have been here for over a month now. It's all over."

I wish I knew why this dream keeps plaguing me. I also dream about extraterrestrials, space travel, running from an unseen danger, worm holes, Maxine, my dead grandfather, poisonous beverages, and mysterious forces plotting destruction of the planet. Maybe I should lay off reading Carl Sagan?

Speaking of Maxine and my grandfather, mortality is sobering. I miss the ones I have lost to the inevitable more than I can express in words. I long for my deceased pet rats, Moo and Maxine. I can see images of them scampering across the floor in my mind's eye. I remember chirping "Maxine, Maxine, come here baby!" and looking down to see my faithful friend standing at my feet. I wish my grandparents were still alive. I wish they could see me now, all grown up. What would they think? Would they be pleased with how I turned out? Would they be proud? Would my grandpa and I spend hours arguing about politics? He was a fan of Rush Limbaugh. Would my grandmother be appalled that I am an atheist? I wish I remembered more about them, especially my grandmother. She died when I was only four and my grandfather when I was thirteen.

I understand why the idea of Heaven and an all-loving being watching over us, guiding us is appealing. Like everyone else, I long to see the dead again. I wish they were here with me. How much I would like to hug my grandmother, to show her the woman I have become!

Death is unpleasant. The idea that all living things will at some point cease to exist and be lost to us really, really sucks. I get it, I do. I can sympathize with the pain. I know what is like to wish, to hope with everything that you have that someday, somewhere, we will be reunited with those who have expired.

BUT, the Universe does not act according to our desires. Just because something is unpleasant, such as the idea of entering a dreamless, endless sleep upon dying, does not mean that is untrue.

Mortality is sobering and humbling, but I am personally not afraid of death. I have come to terms with my own brevity and I am no longer scared. When I was a Christian, I was always afraid.

"Am I sinning? Am I going to Hell? How do I know if I am good enough for Heaven?" I often thought. No one, it seemed, could comfort me. No one could give me an answer. No could tell me if I was living correctly. I spent hours contemplating the idea of eternity as a teenager. I thought about the alternatives. Spending an eternity in a hot, torturous place or living FOREVER in some paradise. To be honest, neither sounded appealing. I didn't want to live forever anywhere, even if it was a paradise. The thought of no release terrified me. I thought about it constantly. In school, at home, at dance class, at cheerleading practice. It plagued me. My religious faith began to unravel. The more I thought about the tenets of Christianity, the more my faith eroded.

One day in English class when I was in 11th grade, we were reading various creation stories from around the globe. At this point in time, I had never really thought about where the Universe and Earth came from. However, the idea that it was sitting on a turtle's back was ridiculous. I had understood that the myths we read were exactly that, myths. The last tale we read was Genesis. All of a sudden, a very important realization hit me like a bus.

"This is just as ridiculous as all of the other myths!"

The journey towards atheism for me started right there in English class. A teenage girl who at that time, had little knowledge about evolution, science, cosmology, and the scale of the Universe began thinking about what life really means and where we come from. I do not claim to have all of the answers. Why would I? After all, I am just an animal in a brief existence on a spinning rock.

A Story About a Father and a Daughter

It was early January of 2005. I was a senior in high school and held a winter job of outdoor ice rink attendant. It was a low-paying position, but I could do my homework and I often had friends visit. During one shift in the bitter cold of a Minnesota January while battling a case of the common cold, my dad tried to cheer me up by informing me that I may be going on a trip soon. Hawai'i, to be exact. I grew up listening to the enchanting tales of my dad's childhood that he spent in Oahu. I impatiently waited for my grandparents to return from their annual late winter vacation from Hawai'i so I could hear stories and receive exotic gifts. I had always dreamed of going to Hawai'i.

Not long after my dad first mentioned the possibility of a seventeen year old's dream vacation, he informed me that he booked my airline ticket and in mid-February, I would be off to stay with my grandparents for a week in Kailua, Oahu. The five week wait was tortuous but filled with overwhelming optimism and excitement. The trip came with its share of anxiety, however, because it required me to fly by myself all the way to Hawai'i. I had only been a on plane a handful of times and never alone. When I informed my parents that I was nervous and I needed guidance, they just told me that everything will be fine and that I would figure out the airport.

"But I have absolutely no idea what I am doing!!!!! You need to tell me what is going to happen! Are you going to go into the airport with me?" were frequent comments over dinner in the weeks before the trip.

"You'll be fine. Airports are easy. Yes, I'll drop you off and make sure you check in," were typical responses from my parents.

As the time came closer, some peculiar things happened. I was at my dad's store and one of his employees asked, "Are you excited? When do you guys leave?"

"Yes I am. But it's just me that's going. I am meeting my grandparents there. They are arriving in Hawai'i a week before me," I responded.

About a week before I left, I was talking to my grandpa over the phone and he told me that he would be picking us up. I replied with, "Grandpa, it's just me!"

I started to think, "Is my dad coming with?? He hasn't mentioned anything about him going, just me. He would have told me. Maybe grandpa was just confused... That would be great if dad came, but I don't think he is."

The weekend before I left, I had lunch with my dad's sister, Auntie Sis (Susan).

"Be sure to have your dad take you to a luau!" she said.

"What?" was my response.

"I mean my dad, your grandpa. Sorry, I was thinking MY dad," she replied.

When the departure day arrived, my father picked me up with his neighbor, Dan, in tow. I said goodbye to my mother and I climbed in the backseat to venture to the airport.

"Erin, grandma and grandpa need you to bring an extra suitcase with you. So you'll have to check two because they need more space when they come home. Dan is going to drive around and check out a construction site while I check you in, ok?" my dad informed me.

We walked into the airport and my dad told me to stand back while we checked me in. I gave him my ID and the suitcases so he could get my boarding pass and check my luggage. Anxiety and excitement filled me. After my dad checked me in and after my inspection of how security works, I gained some confidence and informed my father that he could go now, I would be alright. He turned to me, smiled and said, "well, I'm going with you!"

A mountain of joy arose inside of me. That was one of the happiest moments of life. I could not stop smiling the whole plane ride from Minneapolis to Honolulu. I couldn't believe through all of the slip-ups and wishful thinking, that my dad was actually accompanying me to Hawai'i. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

The week in Hawai'i was magical and fantastic. It was filled with hours at the beach, a trip to the North Shore of Oahu, a day at Waikiki, Pearl Harbor, wonderful dinners out, snorkeling, and body surfing. On the last day right before we were to head back to the airport, my dad and I walked along the beach. He gave me a hug and told me he loved me. I replied with "I love you, too dad," and a few tears rolled down my sun-stained cheeks.

My dad and I have had some wonderful adventures together including a road trip to watch the Gophers play football and a few trips to Northern Minnesota, but this is my most cherished memory.

How did I get so lucky?

I love you, dad.

Reflections

I have lived in TX for over a month now. School commences in just under three weeks and I cannot wait for that time to come. Do not get me wrong, I love having few obligations and the freedom of nearly unlimited leisure time. However, I have grown tired of the summer boredom. I anticipate that I will be singing a different song once I start graduate school and have a million different things to accomplish. The grass is always greener, I suppose.

Lately, I have been sliding, along with Blake, into the homesick trap. We are both thrilled to be here, but we both miss the things we had in MN. We miss our friends, our family, and the temperate climate. I miss the ash trees and the pileated woodpeckers. I miss the sight of the eastern gray squirrels prancing through the grass. I miss the sugar maples and Key's Cafe. I miss the Saint Paul Farmer's Market and the Saint Paul Bagelery. I miss Caribou Coffee and the opportunity to go to my mother's house at any time for any reason.

I feel stressed and bothered lately because there were some misunderstandings about my tuition payments. I have to take out another loan of $1800, which is small but I do not want any more loans to pay back! I have been dropped from my courses temporarily (at least they tell me that it is) until my tuition is adjusted and my TA paperwork goes through. I fear that I will not be able to get back into the courses I want, but Joe tells me not worry.

Distance has the ability to change relationships, for better or for worse. Luckily, I feel that my relationships between many family members, mostly my parents and brothers, has been strengthened. My grandfather called me yesterday. I was so happy to hear from him! I should really call my grandparents more often, or at least get their email addresses.

I have been searching all over this town for TX postcards that I can send to back to MN. Believe it or not, the search has proved futile. I cannot seem to track down something as simple as postcards! It is ridiculous! The zoo gift shop did not even have them! The search continues.