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.