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.