Mesmerized

It’s hard (maybe almost impossible) to devote time to this blog anymore, but I miss it.

This week I’ve had a world-collapsing-on-itself experience of strangely-timed coincidences:

• Reading a chapter out of The War of the Soups and the Sparks: The Discovery of Neurotransmitters and the Dispute Over How Nerves Communicate, I heard about this piece of scientific equipment called a glass cannula, which is basically a teeny tiny glass tube that can be used to put miniscule amounts of neurotransmitters in contact with neurons, increasing or decreasing their activation.  This is pretty far from anything I will ever do, but it was pretty interesting to read about how neurotransmitters (the relatively few we know about) were discovered.

• For the same class, I also read about Freud’s early research in this book:  Psychoanalysis: Freud’s Cognitive Psychology…  First he was a neurologist, and then, because he kept getting patients he couldn’t figure out, he started to study hypnosis.  Hypnosis had been influenced by some of the practices surrounding animal magnetism — the idea that living things contained a magnetic charge that could be manipulated in healing ways…  This guy, Mesmer, was the magnet man:

• After class and a power nap at school, I went to the symphony (National Symphony Orchestra — hurrah!) with a friend who regularly scores comp tickets at the Kennedy Center because once she crossed the street to pet the right person’s cute puppy (seriously).  The featured guest was Jörg Widmann, a composer and clarinetist.  The first piece we heard was composed by him and featured the glass armonica (AKA glass harmonica).  WTF is that?  Awesome, is what it is:

• Also, check out more Widmann.  He was pretty incredible.

• The “glass” in glass armonica reminded me of the tiny glass pipettes, and I had this sort of reverie of neurons and hypnosis and mysterious labs, forests, and fog.  Here’s the music

• Incidentally, Benjamin Franklin invented the glass harmonica.
• Incidentally, Benjamin Franklin was treated by Mesmer.
• Incidentally, Mesmer used the glass armonica (or something like it) in his treatments.
• Mozart was a Mesmer fan.
• Widmann played Mozart.

And with that I’m going to get some much-needed sleep.

 

I Feel the Earth Move…

Okay, that was kind of irresistible.

You may have heard there was an earthquake on the east coast today, and DC felt it pretty hard (for us).  I was in the living room of my newly rented townhouse.  At first I thought it was traffic, then someone demolishing another townhouse or something, or maybe a sinkhole underneath the house.  Then I thought maybe terrorists, and then I thought maybe an earthquake.  Earthquake it was, which I think is fine among those options.

I’m fine.  Most people seem to be.  But it was a little unnerving.  I went outside and chatted with the UPS man, a woman who works in the church next door, and another woman who said, “To be honest with you, I flushed the toilet and then my house started shaking — I didn’t know what was going on.”  I’m glad I wasn’t on the Metro (I was headed that way) or biking (I’m not sure how that would have gone).  It was my first consciously experienced earthquake (I slept through one in Northern Arizona in the early 90s and was kind of upset about missing it).  Interestingly, there was one near my parents last night, too.

In other news, this video by the Decemberists, based on David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest is decidedly awesome.  I’ve fallen behind on Facebook and blogs and much of life in general, but that caught my eye when I was looking for more earthquake info today.  One year in DC down, and less than two to go if all goes as planned.

“Schvitzing”

…is my favorite and so far most useful Yiddish word.  It means sweating profusely, and not in an athletic way.  Kind of just an uncomfortable, uncontrollable, gross way.  And that is what I do here.  This is why:

Tomorrow will be the hottest day since I’ve been here, I think.  If I take the Metro, I will only have to walk a total of four miles in it if I play my cards right and (in six easy installments ranging from .5 to .8 miles).  Schvitz I will.

Good Sunday

A dear friend arrives.

We walk through Eastern Market, buy a peach to eat on the way to Pound Coffee, where iced Nutella lattes are purchased (but there are no seats for us — too hopping of a brand-new place).  We sip lattes as we walk up Pennsylvania Avenue, pausing before the Capitol, and onward to the Newseum.  It is air-conditioned and informative, and we are happy.  We are faced with the World, though, and a lot of it makes us sad.  We see the a wall of front-pages from 9/11, a stack of newspapers that have discontinued print editions (including our own Rocky Mountain News).  We fight back tears as we read about coverage of Hurricane Katrina and look at stark, stunning photos taken by journalists who played a dual role: rescuer and reporter.  We are awed by portions of the Berlin wall and entertained by an exhibit on Presidents’ dogs.  We laugh in the gift shop about mugs on which you “watch your civil liberties disappear” as your beverage cools and t-shirts with bleeding hearts… and the word “liberal” written below.  This is a really great museum. Moving and informative and beautiful.

We walk towards our dinner destination and detour to the Mall.  We pause to see if anyone has Bomb Pops (they don’t), and proceed to the Washington Monument.  We walk through the grass to the WWII Memorial, where we hope that any child of ours would not be playing in the fountain, and reflect a moment longer in front of the names of states we hold dear (Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona…).  We take a (lovely, air-conditioned) cab to dinner, have a drink and spend more time ordering than we do eating.  The food is good; the company is best.

Metro home, have ice cream, talk to roommates.  Call a cab bound for Virginia (where work awaits).  Enjoy the lightness that good, familiar friends bring to my heart.

summer semester

It Is

Too hot and too humid here (humidity at 80%, 88-degree high expected, and this is only the beginning of it).  I’ve concluded that the only way around this is to get a driver (because even if one had a car, one would have to walk from the parking spot, etc.).  I don’t think that’s really on the horizon for me.

This is What Worrying is Like

It wastes a lot of energy and doesn’t get you very far.

On the eve of my third semester (or, rather, on the morning of the first day of my third semester), I’m feeling a lot like this.

Also: I think I’m turning into a LOLcatz-sharing woman.  ugh.  what?!?!  In my defense, here are some things I’ve been liking lately:

• 25 reasons to visit Yugoslavia (abandoned WWII monuments)
• Monologues from David Foster Wallace’s The Pale King, which I read over break, and liked, though its never-to-be-finished-ness made me sad.  Good commentary on boredom and tedium, and the idea that the ability to handle it is somehow heroic.
• Steamed cod on kale (something I will make)
• The moving simplicity of Richard Long’s landscapes

Sorry only the LOLcatz are coming through lately….!

What the Blerg?

blech, finals, even when you are relatively easy on me, I strongly dislike you.

Provisions for getting through what’s left of my Spring 2011 assignments:

• 1-month free trial membership to Hulu Plus so I can catch up on current-season episodes of 30 Rock and Modern Family as rewards for reaching smallish milestones on each assignment (note: I think I have watched more tv since starting school than I did in the decade prior, and it’s sad…)
• Enough popcorn for my popcorn-as-meal habit…
• …alternated with the horrific meal of whole cans of black beans heated up and generously flavored with Cholula
• coffee
• coffee
• coffee

Actually I’m almost done — one class (tomorrow) and one paper left.  Paper isn’t even due until May 4, but for once in my life I’m going to turn something in early, likely Friday morning…  at which point I will be free and will act like a DC tourist (only with proper Metro etiquette) until Monday, when I fly home to Colorado.

Thanks for the comments lately!  They make me happy, and I’m excited about the prospect of a handmade beard hat!

Beards, Kids

I think I mentioned future children in my last post (what’s happening to me?!?!  I can’t go anywhere with this clock ticking (or uterus fluttering) so loudly!!?).  Anyway, I would just like to mention that if I have a child, he (or, what the heck, she) will have at least one of these:

from: Balaclava WIN – Win!

In fact, I kind of want one for myself.  A beard hat, not a kid (yet).

Sweet Valley Confidential

I am a little ashamed to say that about half of what I read between spring of 1988 (when my grandmother gave me the first two books in the series) and spring of 1992 (when my mother claimed they were “trash books” and gave me some Newbery Award Winners and Mary Higgins Clark mysteries) were the first 60-some books of the Sweet Valley Twins series.  The other half of what I read was The Babysitter’s Club series.  Luckily (for my mind!) I read a couple of the mysteries and Newbery winners and did not graduate into Sweet Valley High books (or John Grisham or Janet Evanovich).  Don’t give me too much credit, though, as I did start buying Teen and Seventeen and YM magazines at least two years before I was actually a teen, and then was the first of my friends to start reading Glamour…and Cosmo…when I finally did reach my teenage years (if my mother only knew what was in those…).  I guess at least I got it out of my system early?

…or did I get it out of my system?  I feel after reading a whole lot of non-fiction and research papers and case studies and psychological theory I just might read Sweet Valley Confidential, which was just published and follows our favorite twins into their 20s.  Oh, yes.  This exists:

And you can totally tell that Jessica is the one on the back cover because she’s so vampy.  If only I had a Kindle, I could tell everyone I was reading this:

(which is coming with me on my break).

I will also note that one day in the distant future I will probably be horrified by what my own kids choose to read, and it might even make me say republican-sounding things about the world today and morals and how innocent kids used to be, even though I have a sinking suspicion kids were never as innocent as anyone remembers.