The Samosa

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2010-04-28T10:43:00.001-07:00

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Pondering Parenting Paradoxes

2010-04-09T13:26:00.000-07:00

I love love love to hold my daughter. But the second someone offers to hold her, I am pleased to hand her over and have my hands free.

Breastfeeding is supposed to be 'natural'. But if it was so natural, why did I need instructions from La Leche League, other moms, books, photographs, websites, and printed hospital fact sheets? If it weren't for all the supplementary material, I would not have known how to breastfeed my baby while keeping my breasts healthy and comfortable.
Bringing a new baby into the family is a joyous time but postpartum hormones and sleep deprivation conspire together to set the stage for postpartum depression.
Babies are born with reflexes, intuition and their own brand of wisdom. Yet they don't have basic physiological skills or knowledge. For example, my baby does not know how to fall asleep. And her own bowel movements frighten her. (I guess you could say that her bowel movements scare the shit outta her.) As a mother, my job is to soothe my baby to sleep and monitor her crying cues so that I can distinguish between a "poo freak out cry" and her other cries (tired, bored, hungry, etc.)
My baby can sleep through the white noise of a busy cafe, but the moment I ball up my empty take out bag, she wakes up from the quiet crinkly noise. How can she pick out the paper bag noise from the crash of the ice machine, cell phone rings, chatter, slamming doors, espresso machine, and more?
When my daughter is napping and I have the opportunity to do other things, I sometimes use the time to look at photos of her. This paradox especially confuses me. If I want to look at my baby, I may as well put the photos away and go stare at her while she naps. At least then I would be looking at the real thing instead of a virtual 2D image of her.
The conventional wisdom implies that parents forget the agony of childbirth and the chaos and craziness of the newborn days so that they won't be discouraged from having more children. During my postpartum recovery I talked to many different moms and I discovered that if I asked them specific questions about their own childbirth experience and their life with a newborn they all remembered very clearly and in great detail exactly what they went through. There was not a single mom who I questioned who 'forgot' or 'couldn't remember' what it felt like as they recovered from pregnancy and childbirth while taking on the challenges of breastfeeding and child care.
We live in a time where (some) fathers are happily willing to take on 50% of the parenting responsibilities. But even if dads are eager and able, the mother-baby bond is so intense that a 50/50 division is unattainable (if you are in a family that has achieved 50/50, tell me how you achieved this!)
I love my daughter exactly the way she is and wouldn't change a thing about her, but I covet the fantasy presented by a few other babies I have seen who sleep all the time and are easily portable, allowing their smug parents to go about their lives as if the kid wasn't even there.
My husband doesn't care for clothes and fashion and he can't (or won't) shop for himself, but when it comes to dressing the baby he is a fantastic fashionista.
A baby's cry is the most irritating sound on earth, but instead of running away from the sound, we run towards it.

My Baby Is...

2010-02-21T09:02:00.000-08:00

My baby girl is almost 8 weeks old. Here's a snapshot of what she is like.

My baby is clumsy. She is always scratching her face, despite my 5-star-spa-manicure skills. She also pokes her own eyes out. Both of these uncoordinated movements result in bouts of crying, but luckily, they can be easily soothed.

My baby is thermonuclear. She is a space heater that keeps me cozy and warm on these long winter nights. Even when she is stripped down to her diaper she is a ball of heat, radiating warmth and energy. She reminds me of mitochondria (so what if I am a geek?).

My baby is an actor. She uses her fists to act grown up:

Sometimes she's on the phone (holds fist by ear)
Sometimes she's in a gang (holds fists with fingers sticking out in a gang symbol)
Sometimes she's riding a motorcycle (holds fists in front of her as if twisting gears)
Sometimes she's fencing in a duel (holds one fist at hip, the other stretched out to the opposite side)
Sometimes she's Mr. Burns from the Simpsons (twiddles fingers in her lap)

My baby is a bird. She chirps, clucks, squawks, screeches, screams and trumpets. Someday she will fly.

My baby is a model. She was photographed at 11 days and her portrait hangs in the lobby of the Birth Center. My baby makes me proud.

My baby is a perpetual motion machine. Swing her, rock her, bounce her, walk her, blah blah blah, all day long and she still wants more.

My baby is cute and sweet. I don't have to explain this one, I am her Mom, and I say that she is cute and sweet, so there!

My baby is patient and forgiving. She doesn't cry when Dad puts her clothes on backward. She doesn't complain when Mom brushes her hair in funny swirls. And she doesn't startle when the dog pokes its wet nose into her personal space. She accepts it all and moves on.

My baby is growing healthy and strong.

My baby is present in my arms. When I am with her, I don't dwell on the past. Although I often worry about the future. But just then, she cries, and brings me back to the present moment.

My baby is my meditation. And we are in love.

What Can I Say?

2010-01-29T15:20:00.001-08:00

What can I say? I had a baby on Dec. 31st, 2009 and everything changed. I am in love.

Like all first time Moms, I have been staring, watching, observing, obsessing and searching for cues that might give me insight into who my daughter is. I am always asking, "What does she need? Who is she?" I realized after two weeks of newborn care that it will take me a lifetime to learn who my daughter is and I may never fundamentally understand what she needs.

What else can I say? I've learned very quickly that my genome science/project management skills are pretty useless right now and I don't have the baby-care skills to really care for my daughter in the way she needs. For example, she cried for the entire afternoon and I was unable to soothe her. But, the bottom line is that she is growing healthy and strong and that is all I pray for every day.

What else can I say? I'm thankful for the wisdom of all my girlfriends who had kids before me. They have a way of telling me their stories without dumping advice, guilt and judgment on me. And they're funny about it, which soothes my soul on my most anxious days.

What else can I say? I love my daughter in a way that is deep and profound. I smile every time I pick her up. We are in love.

Cute Kimono

2009-09-28T18:49:00.001-07:00

One advantage of being an unemployed deadbeat is that you get to finally work on the projects that you have been meaning to do. Here are some photos from my most recently finished work of country-cuteness. The baby kimono pictured here is from a pattern I found in Mason Dixon Knitting. It was a charming mini-project that was satisfying to knit because as I completed ach row, the shape of the kimono became more obvious. I added the little button instead of tying the kimono with a ribbon and feel smug and pleased with my country kitsch. What's not to love about squirrels with fishing rods?

Newborn Hat

2009-09-19T18:47:00.001-07:00

Newborn Hat
Originally uploaded by nanodudek

I used to knit baby blankets for my pregnant girlfriends, but I just can't keep up with all the babies anymore, so I had to scale back my production to little projects like baby hats. I find hats much more satisfying because I can finish them quickly, but they induce a little bit of anxiety because it is hard to construct by hand a garment that fits well. A little mistake on a little hat amplifies into a giant lump, pucker, or eyesore. But I think the little candy print hat turned out ok.

Other projects in my knitting pipeline include a newborn baby kimono from the book Mason Dixon knitting and a self-designed shawl which I started, hated, and haven't had the guts to rip apart and start over.

Home Buying: Lessons Learned

2009-09-06T08:44:00.000-07:00

I spent the last month viewing homes, talking to lenders, and reading home buyer guides and have come to a few broad generalizations about purchasing a home.

For the first few houses, you enjoy the process because you are looking at cosmetic features. But by the third house you realize you need to focus on the structural and design elements of the house, otherwise you may end up living in a carnival fun house infested with termites.
Nearly every single house has a major flaw. The flaw will fall into one or more of the following categories:

water damage, leaks
mold
cracks (in the sidewalks, foundation, walls, ceilings, etc.)
termites (and other pests)
bad location (our favorite house was under our budget but next to the only freeway in Blacksburg, so we had to dump it from our wish list)
ancient interiors (original 1971 carpeting throughout the entire house)
nutty architectural design (for example, the dishwasher is located 7 feet away from the kitchen sink)
the seller designed a specialty feature for their own pleasure, but you don't need it (for example a swimming pool, two stove tops or a heavy marble water sculpture)

If a house has a basement, it had a flood or leak at some point in its history
Leaks and floods lead to mold
During tours, you spend a lot of time looking at the ceiling for leaks and cracks
Sellers place area rugs on top of carpeting to hide stains
College students abuse their rental properties 10 times worse than I remember from my own college days
Americans have really cut back on their smoking. We didn't see a single property owned by smokers
Pets go happy loco when random visitors enter the house in the middle of the work day
The home buying process is expensive and overwhelming because you have to work with at least seven different people. Personalities we have worked with both directly and indirectly include the sellers, the selling real estate agent, our buying agent, our mortgage lender, the property surveyor, the home inspector, and the attorney. I have worked on genome projects that involved fewer people.

The last and most important lesson I learned was that if a house didn't stroke my ego, I couldn't bring myself to even consider it. You know how everyone tells you that "when you find your dream house, you just know."? Well, it turns out that the reason "you just know" is because your ego leaps up and stands at attention. Your ego is awakened by meeting something-a house- it recognizes as itself.

Don't be fooled into thinking you are any different. Your ego house will echo back to you the ideas and themes which you believe to be true about yourself. It will be spacious and bright (or maybe sweet and cozy). Your ego house will be colorful and whimsical (or reliably neutral). It will be surrounded by rolling hills with grazing horses (or by fun and young college students). Whatever it is, the house that makes you throw down your life's savings and commit to a thirty year loan will feed your ego, strengthen your identity and reaffirm your concept of self.

In my case, the interior of my ego house is a 1990s era Miami-vice themed tri-level. The Miami-vice theme is the first thing that I am going to redecorate. I consider my interior scheme to look like the set on Oprah when she does A-list celebrity interviews with multiple actors crowded onto the two couches, if that makes any sense.

The backyard of my ego house is a Jefferson Natural Forest inspired child's playland. There are more than a dozen mature pine trees in the backyard with a tinkling tiny koi pond. I plan on changing very little in the backyard, except for hanging up a hammock between the trees. I never pictured myself as an owner of trees, especially not the owner of a micro-forest, and I think that appealed to my ego more than anything.

I am still embedded in the home buying process and not sure where this path will lead, but I am excited and hopeful that if not this house, then the next house will be my dream house. Wish me luck. Feel free to share your dream house/ego house features in the comments section.

Sweet Salad Dressing Formula

2009-08-15T17:32:00.000-07:00

Here is a very simple formula for making a sweet salad dressing. As I have written it below, it is quite sweet, which is great if you are serving children or someone with a sweet tooth. I recommend you taste it before serving. If your dressing is too sweet, simply add a splash of extra vinegar.

In a small bowl whisk together:
x volume of your favorite high quality jam
x volume of red wine vinegar
2x volumes of olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Here is an example of the formula for two adult-sized servings of salad:
1 tablespoon of four fruit jam
1 tablespoon of red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons of olive oil
pinch of salt and a short grind of pepper

Easy!

Canada Posteriori

2009-07-25T09:02:00.000-07:00

When I started this blog I set out to find the Canadian samosa and to analyze a few hypotheses I had about Canada. In this blog, the last post about my life in Canada, I will examine both.

What is Canada's samosa?
I originally hypothesized that every unique culture has their own samosa; dough on the outside and sweet or savory stuffing on the inside. India has the potato and pea samosa. America has McDonald's handheld apple pie. Spain has the empanada. Italy has ravioli. When I moved to Canada, I began my quest for the Canadian samosa and found two contenders. At the Granville Island Public Market I found a bread roll stuffed with salmon that almost seemed like a samosa. Salmon is on almost every menu at Vancouver restaurants, so the salmon roll is more of a local/Provincial samosa than a federal-Canadian samosa. Plus, the salmon roll doesn't have an iconic place in Canadian cuisine, so I don't feel right dubbing it Canada's samosa. My husband joined in on my samosa search and identified Tim Horton's Canadian Maple Filled Donut as the iconic Canadian samosa. There are several features of this product that qualify it as Canada's samosa. First of all, Tim Horton was a Canadian hockey player who founded Canada's largest restaurant chain. Second, the maple taste is classic Canadian. In one fried, doughy pocket Canada has stuffed hockey, maple syrup, and established national identity from coast to coast, imprinting into the subconscious mind of Canadians everywhere. What I love most about the Canadian samosa is that it is a breakfast food. I would love to start my day by eating an Indian samosa, but the thought is a bit revolting. But a Canadian samosa is a maple glazed donut, the perfect way to start the day.

My Hypotheses about Canada
Before my move to Vancouver, I made some broad stereotypes about Canada which I wanted to explore and determine if they were true. Here is my original blog post, with some conclusions based on three years of living in Vancouver:

1.Canada is cold
TRUE.
Even the summers in Vancouver are cool and damp. For example, I started writing this post on July 6th while a misty, 55F (13C) rain blanketed my neighborhood.

2.Canada is huge
TRUE, but also kinda FALSE.
Canada is geographically huge, but since there are only 30 million people in the country, they tend to cluster in several major metropolitan areas. Many of these metro regions are close to the US border. If you remapped Canada by population clusters, it would be small.

3.Canadians are nice
FALSE.
If you are Canadian and you are reading this, sorry to burst your bubble. Canadian customer service is pretty lame, drivers are as rude as in any other country, people at work are cranky, riders on the bus pick their nose and touch the hand rails, etc. etc. I could go on, but it would just be a long boring rant. Canadians are as nice as any other people, and as rude as other people.

4.Canadian socialized health care is better that what we have in the US
TRUE
My first job in Canada was as a research assistant for a community birth program where I learned a little bit about the provincial health care plan. I was energized and encouraged to learn that every expectant mother was covered by the provincial health insurance plan and they all had access to nurses and doctors who supported their health and the baby's development. Even more profound was the fact that every baby was covered by the provincial health insurance from the moment they were born. All the parents have to do to enroll their newborn in the provincial health plan is to file some documents. Easy and cheap (in my case, I paid $93/month for the provincial health insurance plan). The Canadian system is certainly a superior option when compared to being born with no health insurance, as many babies are in the US.

5.Hockey is the national obsession (analogous to celebrity gossip in the US)
TRUE. Canadians, watch, play, read, write, live, and love hockey.

6.Drinking beer is the national pastime (analogous to shopping in the US)
TRUE but FALSE.
Drinking beer while watching hockey is the national pastime.

7.Everything is metric (Celsius, Liters, Meters, etc.)
TRUE but sometimes FALSE.
I LOVED this part of Canada the most because I stink at math, and the metric system is easier for those who are computationally challenged. (Which is easier to calculate, the price per ounce of a $4.99 pound bag of cookies, or the price per gram for a 500g bag of cookies?) Unfortunately, some Canadians use metric units, while other Canadians use the Imperial system, and swapping back and forth between the two units is confusing.

8.The Maple syrup is tasty
TRUE. See my description of Canada's samosa above.

9.The taxes are outrageous
TRUE. We pay federal and provincial income tax, federal and provincial sales tax, sin taxes on alcohol/cigarettes, etc. Believe it or not, Canadians even pay taxes on postage stamps. How many times can the government tax the same dollar?

10.Canadian federal law is more permissive to the rights of Canadians to have guns, smoke dope etc.
TRUE. Vancouver has a nasty drug problem (not just dope, but heroine, meth and cocaine too) which is paired with a disturbing gang problem, and the police are not very active about law enforcement. Drug deals take place on the bus, the street corner, tourists areas, etc. and no one seems to mind. People seem pretty comfortable with looking the other way.

11.Canadians are still connected with the British Monarchy
TRUE. The Queen is on all the currency, the British Flag is miniaturized on the province of BC's flag, UK holidays are observed in Canada (boxing day, Victoria day) and Canadian places are named after British battles, leaders, and British townships.

12.Wayne Gretzky is the King of Canada
FALSE. There are several contenders for King of Canada beside Wayne Gretzky. CBC asked Canadians to choose the greatest Canadian and the top ten list included scientist Frederik Banting, environmentalist David Suzuki, inventor Alexander Graham Bell, inspirational runner Terry Fox and Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau.

This is my last post about life in Canada. I recently returned to the US, where I am spending $500 for one month of gap-coverage health insurance until my new health plan kicks in. My time in Canada was beautiful but lonely, and I am glad to be living in the South where people are warm and friendly. Sure, there is a strong gun culture in the South, but I learned in Vancouver that Canada has serious gun violence too. No matter where you live these days, it seems to be part of life. As far as this blog is concerned, I maintain authorship on the Samosa Culture Hypothesis : ) and will continue to be on the lookout for samosas of the world. From here on out I imagine I will be writing mostly about random themes in life that we all experience. Stay tuned. In the meantime, eat a samosa.

Signed by the Author

2009-07-07T23:31:00.000-07:00

I have four autographed books in my home library. The Diversity of Life by E.O. Wilson is a book of many firsts. Not only was it my first autographed book, it was my first experience with a book club. It was chosen by a professor at Purdue who brought together a group of undergrads (including me) who were interested in ecology and evolution. It was also the first science book I ever read just for the fun of it.

I have one book signed by the author that I didn't even read. I found an autographed copy of Kiran Desai's Inheritance of Loss in a used bookstore on Vancouver's boutiquey 4th Avenue. I bought the book for only $9.95, which I thought was a shamefully low price because the novel won the Man Booker Prize and a brand new copy cost $18. I figured the autographed book should sell for at least $18, if not more, and I felt nervous at the register. I was afraid the deal was too good to be true and the clerk would realize the mistake and declare the book not for sale. But she rang it up and I went straight home, plopped down onto the couch and spent the afternoon forcing myself to read the book. I found the setting to be dismal and the lives of the characters to be so humiliating that I shelved the book after nine grim chapters.

Earlier this year Jorge Cham visited UBC and signed my copy of PhD Comic Chapter 3 "Scooped". I especially prize this signed book because I love the comics, I have collected all four of Cham's books, and I identify with his character Jen. In my signed copy of his book, Cham drew a cartoon of Jen and signed it "To Nancy, eat more samosas".

My most recently acquired autographed book is Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. The first time I read Goldberg's book was during the summer of 1997. I had just graduated from Purdue and was still living on campus to finish a research project before moving back to Chicago. Most of my friends were gone and I had turned to journaling to fill up the spare time. Goldberg's book was full of simple advice and exercises on how to write. The second time I read Goldberg's book was on the return flight from Australia. I had just spent a month on the road in Queensland and wanted to get my experience down on paper so I turned to Goldberg's book for help. Last week, my friend Carla asked to borrow the book and I was thrilled when she returned it to me signed by Natalie Goldberg herself. I re-read the introduction to Writing Down the Bones and was reminded to write about whatever is running through my mind at the present moment. Her advice inspired me to recount the mini-stories and details that are embedded in each of my autographed books. The James Simpson theater at the Field Museum where E.O. Wilson gave his biodiversity seminar and signed my book in the lobby afterwards. The feeling of guilt I felt for buying Desai's novel for $9.95 and then not even reading the whole thing. Talking to Cham about how both his character Jen and I experienced unemployment while our husbands were postdocs. And my dear friend Carla who knew I was stuck in a creative lull and encouraged me out of my pit with a book I already owned in my home library.

And how about you? Do you have any autographed objects? What story do they have to tell?

Where Did April, May and June Go?

2009-06-22T22:36:00.000-07:00

My Mom came to visit me in Vancouver last week and she mentioned that I stopped writing new blog posts. My last post was on April 1st about the Easter Bunny, and I didn't even write anything, I just posted a cute photo of a rabbit.

I've been trying to figure out how I have spent the last three months and I have no clue. I haven't knit anything, although I did cast on a new hat. I haven't traveled. My photos folder is empty, which means I did not even pick up my camera. I was pretty swamped at work, but mostly with routine stuff. I saw a few movies, but I can't remember which ones. I didn't buy any new music or read any books that I can remember. I didn't teach my dog any new tricks. I pretty much didn't do anything except go to work, come home, hang out and repeat. And I can't help but feel like a total loser for that three months of nothing.

My days in Canada are numbered. I am returning to the US in July. I was hoping that I would have some Doogie Howser/Carrie Bradshaw-style epiphanies about life, moving, transitions, etc. but all I get is a perky feeling when I find a nice cardboard box by the dumpster at work.

So, the way I see it, I have two options. Option 1 is to continue in the 'nothingness' vein of existence and persist as a loser. Option 2 is to collect as many cardboard boxes as I can so that I may experience tiny moments of perkiness. Suggestions are welcome.

Easter Bunny

2009-04-01T21:43:00.001-07:00

Posted just for cute's sake. Now get back to work.

Summary

2009-03-19T00:21:00.000-07:00

“I often try to reassure myself by saying, "Well, at least it can´t get any worse." But the truth is, it always can. And that´s what really terrifies me.”

---Jimmy Fallon

Good for a Girl

2009-03-11T17:56:00.000-07:00

At work this morning I was told that I do a pretty good job for a girl. In the afternoon I was asked when I plan to have kids. Are these comments a normal part of life as a woman, and should we accept them as meaningless dribble? Or is there a hidden subtext that suggests women are simply uteruses who happen to hold jobs? Should we challenge these comments the moment they are made and confront the arrogance of the people who make these comments?

I wasn't really offended by the "good for a girl" comment. I was talking to a contractor about my laboratory construction project and I made a remark that illustrated my knowledge of laboratory eyewash plumbing. The contractor was surprised I knew about the speciality valves and remarked, "wow, you are pretty good for a girl." I didn't know how to respond to the comment, I think I mumbled something about how all women in science are good at what they do. It is my job to know about such details, and a man in my position ought to know the same information. However, I imagine if a man with my job revealed his knowledge of eyewash valves, it would not have illicited a, "wow you are pretty good for a guy" comment. The way I see it, the subtext at play in this little comment goes like this: a man is expected to know details related to his job. And women? Well, their details concern trivial matters like which bag goes with which shoes for the right meeting so she looks good for the clients.

The dreaded "when are you going to have kids" question really stung because it came from a male superior who controls my vacation benefits, salary, raises, promotions, etc. I deflected the question, but if I were to answer, "I am going to have kids right away", I can kiss any chance of a raise or promotion goodbye. Despite my excellent grasp of eyewash temperature mixing valves, I wouldn't get a promotion if my manager thought I was leaving to take care of babies. I wouldn't be offered good projects or opportunities for professional development either. If I were to answer "I will never have kids" I can expect to have every single difficult and time consuming project dumped on my desk so that my child-laden coworkers could leave by 5pm. I also know that a colleague's health condition was casually discussed at a recent faculty meeting and I don't want to be another employee who has her empty uterus/kidney stones/breast cancer/immunological disorder/vasectomy discussed at the Institute's monthly business meeting.

Ladies, your thoughts? And the guys (or should I say boys)? Are these comments an annoying part of life that women should accept as normal? Or should we speak up when these stupid comments are dropped?

Random Work Moments

2009-02-28T09:14:00.000-08:00

Listening to childhood stories about curling
Pretending I care about hockey
Silently calculating in my head what -22C is in Fahrenheit (-8F)
Politely ignoring anti-American whining
Receiving pathetic-sounding voice mails from people who are calling in sick
Surrendering control as my cubicle was packed up, moved 5 feet forward, moved 3 feet backward and then unpacked
Fielding phone calls, emails, appointments and uninvited drop-ins from sales reps
Rejecting a request to put up signs in the ladies room reminding women to flush after crapping
Finding a corporate sponsor to support our seminar series (a win for me, it is the first time I have ever lined up a blanket sponsorship)
Touring the construction zone and finding one wall in the wrong place and two windows that were completely walled in with no vacant space for the window frame and glass
Mediating a screaming match
Listening to WXRTChicago at my cubicle and feeling homesick
Enjoying dinner with the team and ending the evening with a colleague having an asthma attack and barfing her chicken curry onto the lawn
Cutting my hair short, buying new lipstick, wearing a new outfit to work and getting compliments from both men and women on my new look
Feeling tired, bored, overwhelmed and irritated with just about everyone, even the kind-good-hearted-hard-working-employees
Struggling with being diplomatic 100% of the time, especially when someone is being a stupid asshole
Suppressing the use of the F word
Admiring the delicious, nutritious lunches the Chinese women enjoy in the lunchroom
Watching how the faculty use their egos to get their own way
Wearing my Australian purple heels even though it is cold lately

And you? Any work moments to share?

Cinquain

2009-02-08T19:07:00.000-08:00

Samosa
Potato pastry,
Fried golden pouch.
I should eat one.
Four!

Laundry
Dirty clothes
Baskets piled high
White tees (one red)
Ruined

Chai
Daily ritual
Caffeine sugar milk
Hot frothy morning cup
Sacred

Prawns
Nicknamed shrimp
Raw fried sauteed
Pierce them on skewers
Barbecue

Husband
Love life
Packs my lunch
My dear best friend
Handsome

Jesse
Retired greyhound
Tired, bald, silly
Friendship wakes me up
Dog

2009-02-05T21:56:00.000-08:00

I used to cook, write and knit after work and on the weekends. Over the holidays I knit a few failed projects and I lost my creative mojo. Ever since then I have been moping around the house, watching TV, surfing the web, etc. and finally decided to do something to find my mojo. So, I went to Toys R Us and bought some non-toxic clay. The result is a crooked Ganesh holding a laddoo.

Have you ever lost your mojo? How did you get it back? I need your advice, leave your ideas in the comments section, please!

Weepy

2009-01-17T11:25:00.000-08:00

I don't know if it is because I am the daughter of immigrants or simply because I am an unconditional patriot, but my heart aches to be on United States soil right now. As I watch the inauguration news updates, I feel sad that I am in Canada watching the inaugural excitement from afar.

Canadians are pleased and positive about Tuesday's inauguration, but the mood in Vancouver does not match the electric buzz that the Americans are feeling right now. I wish I could be there and feel the sense of awe and importance that is growing as January 20th approaches.

Naturally, my move to Canada came with feelings of homesickness and a deeper appreciation for all things American, but my feelings are more acute now than ever before. For example, I recently watched this silly video and became weepy.

So, for those of you who are in the States, how will you be observing the inauguration? And how about you Canadian Samosa readers? And the rest of you?

Mushmouth Hat

2009-01-03T23:05:00.000-08:00

I bought two skeins of thick wool while I was in Australia with the intent of knitting a gift for my brother-in-law.

I spent the entire month of December knitting him a hat. It took me 4 weeks to knit the wreck pictured above because I actually had to knit the hat three times.

The first time I knit the hat, it annoyingly twisted into a moibius. My brother-in-law lives in Wisconsin, not an M.C. Esher painting, so I had to rip out the hat and start over.

The second time I was too conservative with my calculations and knit a hat that was six inches too big. I don't know what size his skull is, but I am sure it is not a 29inch circumference, so I had to rip it out and start all over again.

The third time I screwed up the decreases while shaping the crown and ended up with the Mushmouth hat you see above.

I can't give this hat to my brother-in-law as a gift, I can't wear it myself because just looking at it fills me with rage, and I am too sick of this project to rip it up and start over again.

Tell me, have you ever failed at something three times and then just thrown it out? Or did you stick with it till the end?

Washed Off

2009-01-01T17:28:00.001-08:00

2008 was a crummy year for most of us. Election fatigue, the economy, attacks in Mumbai, yada yada, I could drone on and on about all that went wrong. Last night as I sat in a local pub watching Vancouverites party away the last few moments of 2008, I felt a sick mix of gladness and sadness. I was glad the year was over and behind me. But at the same time I felt sad that time is marching on and I am getting old.

2008 was the year I dieted for the first time in my life. I used to be able to maintain my weight. But now I have to carefully watch what I eat. In 2008 I gave up alcohol so I could wear a swimsuit in Australia and not look like a bloated American tourist. In 2009, I am giving up refined sugar in the hopes that I will be able to lose a pound or two and fit into the swimsuit for years to come.

2008 was also the year my grey streak got organized. I have had grey hairs since my 20s and every year a few more grey hairs sprout across my scalp. But in the last six months of 2008 the hairs above the arch of my right eyebrow coordinated themselves. The brown hairs fell out in waves and were replaced by their grey sisters. Now I have a grey streak over my eyebrow. The grey hairs are brittle and break easily, leaving behind short stubs that stick out of my scalp at random angles.

Part of me wishes I could have a limbo year where I could stay the same, but I know that would be a torturous existence. So, I say, bring on 2009 in all of its sugar-free and alcohol-free glory. My husband and I welcomed 2009 in the same way we did last year. We bundled up, drove downtown to English Bay, stripped down to our swimsuits and dunked ourselves in the water. We washed off 2008 and left it in the bay, where the 36F (2C) currents will carry it out to sea.

Before the swim.

After the swim.

Knitting Looks Tough

2008-12-24T11:04:00.000-08:00

Who's Cuter?

2008-12-14T21:56:00.000-08:00

Who's Cuter, Jesse or Dan?

Leave your vote in the comments section with a short justification.

When Obama Won

2008-12-06T13:16:00.001-08:00

When Obama Won
Originally uploaded by nanodudek

When my grandchildren ask me what I was doing when Obama won, I will tell them I was in Brisbane hugging a koala bear. How cool is that?

Occupational Hazard

2008-12-06T13:02:00.000-08:00

Notice on the whiteboard in the lab in Brisbane:
"Could the owner of the urine specimen on the kitchen bench please remove it! Thank You"

Random Down Under

2008-11-19T00:33:00.000-08:00

Driving on the left side of the road isn't as scary as I thought it would be.
But passing on the right side on a two lane highway is terrifying.
Kangaroos have very long eye lashes.
I saw a platypus in the wild. They are tinier than you would expect.
Spotted on the beach: evidence men get cellulite.
In the US and Canada I was often confused by the menu at cafes. Traveling in Australia has complicated things further because they don't use the same names for drinks. Australians drink stuff like "flat white". I have no idea what these new names mean and as a result I stammer and hold up the line while I try to figure out how to order a cup of coffee.
Everything here is inside out and upside down. Christmas is during the summer. The cars drive on the left. The constellations are upside down. The Pacific Ocean is on the East coast. Weather moves from West to East.
I saw a turtle while snorkeling this morning.
Favorite idiom so far "Bob's your uncle" (everything is ok)
Camembert cheese from Tasmania is tasty

More to come the next time I have internet access.