paleololigo

Musings on NaNoWriMo and Writing in General

Well, I did it. I did it again. I signed up for NaNoWriMo and I won.

So… what did it win, Alex?

A hearty handshake and the knowledge that I can crank out a 50,000 word novel in one month.

Right.

So, what is NaNoWriMo, you ask?

NaNoWriMo is the acronym for the National Novel Writing Month. It’s a challenge put up by the Office of Letters and Light that sponsors several month-long writing challenges fro adults and youth.

I first heard of NaNoWriMo last November. For giggles, I signed up to write a little story that I had jumbling around in my head. That story has now expanded in what will likely be come the Herongarde trilogy, for which I have a rough draft of the first book (Prince of Herongarde), and a nearly complete draft of the second book (Mark of Herongarde). The third book (Queen of Herongarde) is still rattling around in my head. I’ll probably have to work on it during one or two of the Camp NaNoWriMo events during the summer of next year. You can find little snippets and bits and pieces of this trilogy on my blog under the Herongarde tag.

It’s through NaNoWriMo that I discovered that I actually have a great passion for writing fiction (and an inverse-passion for writing technical literature). I’m so glad that I can (and do) actually call myself a writer. I have two complete novels under my belt. Not so many people can say that!

I’ve enjoyed exploring life as an author so much this year, that I decided to join NaNoWriMo as a Municipal Liaison this year. This basically puts me in charge of getting everyone to play nice with each other (which is never really a problem), to be a cheerleader, and to organize events as much as possible. There’s lots of e-mails and forums to read and respond to. I’ve quite enjoyed the experience and am really grateful for having the opportunity to meet and interact with other budding authors.

This year’s novelling experience was a little different than last year’s. After writing 50k words last year, I wasn’t even halfway through the book. Even after a round of Camp NaNoWriMo, I still wasn’t done. This year, I started with something fresh. The book is currently called “The Masters,” but I suspect I might need to change the title. There are a couple of snippets of it as well on my blog. I managed to wrap the whole thing up almost exactly at 50k words (50049 is what it verified at). I actually finished the whole story.

Then this weird thing happened. I had grown so fond of my characters – all of them – that as I wrote the last sentences, I started to bawl. It was a happy ending. They were all parting ways to go on with their lives. And I was bawling. That has never happened before. It was an amazing experience.

I wonder if that will happen when I finally finish the Herongarde trilogy? I guess I’d better finish it, so that I can find out.

I once was an artist…

So with yesterday’s blog post, I started thinking a lot about my old ‘artist’ days. Back when I was in high school I was convinced that I was going to be an Olympic athlete and an artist. That’s a bit different from the vertebrate paleontologist and isotope geochemist that I’ve become.

Anywho, writing that post (and seeing my son’s report card with glowing comments about his artistic ability) made me think again about my art. For giggles (and I may be risking a lot here), I’ve decided to post photos of my artwork and call it a blog post.

Here goes:

Caniberon - first framed painting — The first painting I ever had framed. That’s a Caniberon floating in the middle there. This won an Honorable Mention at the Utah State High School art show when I was a sophomore. Ink on illustration board. All rights reserved.

The Quick and The Dead — The Quick and the Dead. This was an assignment in my art class. It’s a mixture of watercolor and Prismacolor on illustration board. Images are drawn from photographs. All rights reserved.

Caniberon swordplay — Caniberons sword fighting. Acrylic on canvas board. Done back in high school. See? My interest in swordplay goes way back! All rights reserved.

Snarly beaky — This one inspired my high school art teacher to tell me that each painting I did was somewhat more morbid than the last. Watercolor. All rights reserved.

Skeptical Pronon. This I painted in about one week for an art show in high school. Arcylic on masonite. All rights reserved.

I enjoyed drawing and painting Pronons (and a whole fleet of six-legged critters from their home planet). The Winter Olympics happened while I was in painting-mode, and Pronons figured into a couple of Olympics-inspired paintings.

Ski jumping Pronon. Watercolor. High school. All rights reserved.

Speedskating Pronon — Speed skating Pronon. Watercolor. High school. All rights reserved.

I was also big into cheetahs. They turned up as cheetahs in a couple of pieces, and as the Ulfrese (my response to the “Transformers”) in a few others.

Ulf on a bike — A mountain-biking Ulf. Pencil on illustration board. High school. All rights reserved.

Hipster Ulf — A hipster Ulf. He was hipster before it was hip. Pencil on illustration board. High school. All rights reserved.

Caniberons are also common art subjects of mine. They’ve also appeared in a yet-to-be-finished script that one day I’ll get back to. I came up with several species.

Caniberon sapiens. Pen and ink on illustration board. High school. All rights reserved.

Caniberon calerissime — Caniberon celerissime. The swift caniberon. Pen and ink on illustration board. Dunno if this is high school or college. All rights reserved.

Caniberon curvus. It’s the big tusks that are unique to the genus Caniberon. This one’s are very curved. Pencil on illustration board. High school or college. All rights reserved.

Caniberon in snow. Watercolor. College (I think). All rights reserved.

Never finished — A brightly colored species of Caniberon. I never finished this painting. Acrylic on canvas board. College or grad school. All rights reserved.

A map of sorts — This is meant to be like a star-map or something. Down there in the lower left is a beast called Praedonta, which is the sister-group of Caniberon. Watercolor. High school. All rights reserved.

An then there are a litany of other random animals:

Awkward school photos — Awkward school photo. Here I was trying to stick four eyes on a sentient mammal’s head. Watercolor. High school (I think). All rights reserved.

Chranku. Here I was wondering what would happen if you took a saber-toothed tiger and put the saber on the lower jaw. Water color. High school. All rights reserved.

five legs — Five-legged critter. For this, I asked myself ‘what if the lobed dorsal fin in early tetrapods became a full-blown limb?’ This was my answer. Pen and ink on illustration board. High school. All rights reserved.

Random snarly thing — A random snarly thing. Check out those incisors! Pen and ink on illustration board. College (methinks). All rights reserved.

Russah. This was a critter that I had developed some stories around. I’ve forgotten the stories, but remember the name, Russah. Pen and ink on illustration board. College (I think). All rights reserved.

Stylized whatzit — Very colorful random stylized thing. I think this is the same beaked critter from before. Watercolor. High school. All rights reserved.

Very colorful dunno-what-it-is — Not sure what was going on here, but I seem to have combined Caniberons and Pronons. Watercolor. High School. All rights reserved.

Scratchboard pegasus taking flight — More standard fare: A pegasus taking flight. Scratchboard. High school. All rights reserved.

I also fiddled some with pointillism, where one draws a picture with nothing but dots:

Random phoenix-y thing — Stylized phoenix or firebird. Pen and ink on illustration board. College. All rights reserved.

Another random phoenix-y thing — Phoenix bending space. Pen and ink on illustration board. College. All rights reserved.

I’ve done a lot of technical work using computer software. This is the one piece of ‘scientific’ art work I’ve done using watercolor. It’s based upon the real notes that I took as I was describing a new species of multituberculate mammal:

Notes on _Fractinus palmorem_ a new genus and species of mammal from the Hanna Basin of Wyoming. Watercolor and pen and ink. Graduate school. All rights reserved.

So that’s everything I have photos of (certainly not everything I’ve ever drawn). I hope you’ve enjoyed looking at them. Perhaps someone out there can give me the inspiration to continue drawing, and maybe get back into the more ‘fine arts’ end of things with paint and brush. It’s been a while.

How horses made me who I am

When I was about four years old, my mother first told me about the horse she had when she was growing up. His name was ‘Watch Charm,’ but Mom just called him Charmie. After that, I became a typical horse-crazy girl growing up in the middle of the city. But I can trace that fact that I’m sitting here, now, as a paleontologist back to that conversation. This is how it worked.

I had this one toy horse that I loved. In fact, I still have that toy horse. I should find it an post a picture here. Anyway, I sat down and started drawing pictures of that horse. I wanted to draw the perfect horse. It was my way of imagining actually having one.

I spent years perfecting my drawings. I would study some of the toy horses that I had and sketch those. Then I graduated into looking at pictures of horses and copying those. I got some ‘how to draw’ books.

Something clicked in me around middle school. I noticed that horses and humans had all the same bones, they were just arranged differently, for different functions. In fact, I realized that all terrestrial vertebrate (though I didn’t call them that at the time) had all the same bones. Then I got creative.

Of course, I didn’t fully understand biology or evolution then, but I tried to imagine what animals that evolved in different environments would look like. Or what a sentient horse would be like. I spent years creating strange new alien species, mostly mammals, based upon what I understood of comparative anatomy (all of which I taught myself).

In middle school, I read parts of Gray’s Anatomy, and began to think about how muscles and bones work together. Every animal I created had to ‘work’ to the best of my knowledge. I would draw skeletal and muscular reconstructions for each animal. Things were getting pretty detailed.

By the time I was in high school, I’d gone so far as to invent some cultures and interactions for some of the species, but still, they were mostly mammalian. I took a number of art classes and was by then producing some great paintings and drawings of my critters doing unexpected things: the Ulfrese (my biological answer to the ‘transformers’) were cheetah-like and seemed to like to ride mountain bikes. Then there were the Pronons that were my functional concept of a minotaur, that for whatever reason, enjoyed winter sports (it could have been that the Winter Olympics were on!).

Then my art teacher challenged us to invent an animal that looked like a plant, or vice versa (I don’t remember). I naturally came up with an animal the was a plant, and spent a great deal of time conceptualizing it’s fern-like reproduction.

When high school was nearly over, I had established a few things about myself that remain true today: I am an artist and I am a scientist. I was mulling over how I could be both and make a career of it. The obvious choice was dinosaur reconstructions. I’d be the artist that fleshes out the dinosaurs. I’d be a paleontologist!

I went to college to study geology and biology. I already knew that paleontology was an interdisciplinary science. I knew I could never do what I wanted to do without solid training in both geology and biology, so I double-majored.

The unexpected occurred. I found that I really liked geology a lot! I could actually see myself being just a geologist. That’s OK. There’s a future in that. I also rekindled an old interest in chemistry, which surprised me.

I learned also that paleontology isn’t just something you major in. If you wanted to be a paleontologist, you had to get an advanced degree. That degree would either be in geology or biology. When I was near graduation, I started applying to graduate programs in both fields, but the ones that attracted me the most were those in geology. I wound up in a Ph.D. program at the University of Wyoming to study vertebrate paleontology. But here’s the kicker: I wasn’t going to work with dinosaurs or even with life reconstructions.

Well, it’s worked out. As a grad student, I was introduced to isotope geochemistry, which is what I do to get paid now. Occasionally, I even get to work with dinosaur fossils. I’ve never become a paleoartist and done reconstructions. Perhaps I should be disappointed, but the people who actually are paleoartists do some amazing work. I don’t think I could do that! I do still draw – a lot! I do my own figures for papers. It’s nice to not have to hire anyone to do that for me. I really enjoy putting together posters for professional meetings. I get a little arsty-fartsy with them. It’s a lot of fun. And doodles of horses appear everywhere!

Here’s the fun thing: After grad school I found myself on a postdoctoral project working with – you guessed it – horses. Yeah, it came full-circle. I started with a love of horses, and today I do a lot of work with fossil horses (and other cool mammals). I still have it in my head to one day own a horse, though honestly, I’d be happy with any equid. Mules are nice. Donkey’s are cute and fuzzy. Maybe not a zebra…

So. I’m a vertebrate paleontologist. And an isotope geochemist. All because my mom told me the story of her horse way back when I was four years old. Never underestimate the influence your little story might have on someone. Such things could be life-changing!

The Joys of Teaching

There are those who think I have a little too much fun while I’m teaching. These complaints typically come from students who think that college-level teaching has to be the ivory-tower-residing professor standing at the front of the classroom authoritatively spouting facts that the students are to dutifully write down and memorize for exams. College instructors are not to laugh or use colloquialisms. Professors must not be human.

Well, for that one percent of students: I’m sorry. You won’t like my class.

For the rest of you, let me preview your experience if you decide to take one of my classes.

I definitely do the standard spouting of information, as professorial-types are supposed to. I enjoy spouting information and drawing simultaneously. I was particularly proud of my artwork the day I described surface and deep currents in the ocean:

Chalkboard masterpiece: Ocean circulation patterns.

Sometimes I get a little silly, like when I used the table-top as a chalk-board and used a bunch of my son’s toys to illustrate the relationships of the major dinosaur groups:

dino phylogeny — Dinosaur phylogeny with toys and chalk

I think one of my teaching coups was when I devised the hypothetical continent of ‘Cupcakeia’ to help students understand the motions of tectonic plates and the importance of apparent polar wander. (You’ll need to take my class or do a little research to find out what that is.) It got better when I added the sub-continent of ‘Frosteringia,’ that collides with Cupcakeia to make a nice mountain range. So proud of that. Even prouder when my students use Cupcakeia as an example on their exams. (**See, they know it’s fake. It has to be. But they have a chuckle and they REMEMBER! Gasp! They learn! Woot!**) I wish I had a photo or drawing of Cupcakeia and Frosteringia. Maybe next year.

There are definitely the days when I’m as grumpy as the students are about being in class so freaking early. Those are the days when we really have fun. The other day I was trying to make the simple point that when ice floats in water, part of it (the root, if you will) is under water. I could have done that professorially in less than a minute. I think I spent at least five minutes drawing a picture that included a humpback whale, the Titanic (which upset the students), a lost polar bear, and a very large manatee, about which I wrote “Oh! The huge manatee!”

Oh the huge manatee — Oh! The huge manatee! (Photo by my student @parroyo9 on Twitter)

Yeah. I lost the class for a while that day. But hey, in the end, no one regretted coming to class. So yay! Success.

My most recent lecture involved the invention of new terms: Oosh and Schlorque. Ooshing was a term invented by one student as an alternative to “ridge push.” I like ooshing much better. Schlorque was invented by another student as an alternative to “slab pull.” My students dutifully photographed this and posted it on Twitter so that I wouldn’t forget.

ooshNschlorque — Definitions of Oosh and Schlorque. The spelling of schlorque was selected because it makes it seem more sophisticated. (Photo by my student @parroyo9 on Twitter)

Like I said, there are those who might think I goof off a little too much in my classes. But, you know, I have a good rapport with my students, and I typically have 30-35 students (of a class of 43) who actually show up for lecture every day. Any attendance greater than 50% for an introductory course is really darn good.

I think they like the class. I sure like teaching it.

The End of the Vacation

It’s always a little sad when a trip ends. This trip, to see my family, is the first time in a while when I felt like I actually got a real ‘vacation.’ I didn’t really sleep late. I didn’t stay up late either. A combination of jet lag and high altitude that took my energy away most of the time and gave me a blinding headache for the first two days we were here. But still, it was vacation.

I managed to keep up with my NaNoWriMo novel-writing goals and my NaBloPoMo blog-posting goals this whole time. No one seemed bothered by me disappearing for a few hours a day to get some writing in.

I went shopping with my mom, which is always fun. She and I like the same things, so it’s easy to find the ‘perfect’ places to go. I think, though, that my luggage got smaller, because suddenly not all of my stuff fits in there. This happens every time. (But you should see my new ‘bling!’)

My dad gave me Captain Shooty, and we went and fired a few rounds. That was so fun. Oh! Grunt! Grunt! Grunt! Captain Shooty is on his way to New York now. Turns out the permitting process is rather lengthy, but I should be able to have my permit in a few months – certainly in time for next summer’s field season when I would want to have the gun.

Shooting — Target practice with Captain Shooty

My dad also delighted in taking our son (his grandson) fishing. The boy had never been fishing before and it was the one thing that my dad has really wanted to do with him. The boy loved it. They caught seven fish, four of which they were able to put back and the remaining three they gave away. What a great experience for the boy!

Grandpa and the boy and a fish — Grandpa and the boy (and a fish)

Today (Friday) we begin the voyage back to the real world of home, jobs, and responsibilities. Before we go, though, we’re going to spend a little time in Las Vegas. (We’re taking the red-eye out of LAS tonight – this post will go live probably while we’re in mid-air!) Maybe tomorrow I’ll post some photos of the Luxor, Excalibur, and New York New York. We’ll see.

Captain Shooty

There are likely to be many out there who will object to the fact that I am now an owner of a handgun. Well, ok. Not quite. Apparently there’s the whole ‘pistol permit’ I need to get before I can bring the gun home, but that’s just a matter of time and paperwork. Fact is, I’ve got a gun.

What is it with people feeling the necessity to own handguns? Let me lay out the reasons why I want this one. No, it’s not because I’m some sort of militia-type who wants to seceed from the country. It’s not even for protection against home invasion. The ‘coolness’ factor, while it’s there, is still not the reason why I want a gun.

I’m a geologist. More specifically, I’m a paleontologist. When I’m doing field work, there’s really no telling what you might bump into. Where I work there are rattlesnakes. And occasionally badgers, bobcats, and bears. (There is also the slightest chance of bumping into some unpleasant members of the human race as well, though most people you might encounter are not interested in doing you any harm.) I take students with me to remote areas where such animals could be encountered. These places are usually a good hour hike to our vehicle and two hours drive to civilization. I can’t just call 911 if something comes prowling around. I need a weapon for protection.

Last fall (like a year ago) I went on an elk hunt with my dad. We chatted about weapons and such, and I expressed to him my desire to have a handgun. I told him about the gun that I really wanted: a .44 caliber revolver. Why do I want that? Here’s where the ‘coolness’ factor comes in. But also, I wanted something that would actually protect me against the attack of a large mammalian predator. We went back and forth about it. Dad would much rather me have a 9mm semi-automatic pistol, which makes sense, but my heart says ‘revolver.’ .44 caliber is a bit much for me, says Dad. I say, ok, just something that will work. .357, he suggests.

Boris. Dad’s trophy from last year’s hunt.

Well, we hadn’t talked about it since then, but when we came out to visit them in Utah, Dad waved me into his garage. He pulled out a beautiful .44 caliber revolver. I got giddy. He has, of course, reminded me of all the things he doesn’t like about revolvers, including the fact that they really don’t have much of a safety to keep them from firing accidentally. He apparently couldn’t find a .357 revolver, but he found this, and got it for me, cautioning that he won’t let me take it until he’s sure I can handle the extra umph of the .44 caliber.

We took it out this morning and fired it. Once I got past the initial terror, expecting a huge kick, I discovered that I really didn’t have any trouble shooting it. Then, Dad loaded the .44 magnum shells and I tried that. That was substantially more kick, to be sure, but I still hit the target. Yup. I like the gun.

Me_and_Captain_Shooty — Me and Captain Shooty

Inspecting the target — Checking my accuracy

Tonight, Dad’ll show me how to clean it. My husband has been researching how best to get it home to us. (There’s that whole permitting thing again.) But I love it! It’s exactly what I wanted. Maybe I’ll later add a smaller gun to the arsenal, but this is the weapon I want. And it’s perfect for what I need it for.

Story Seed – or – What a Crazy Dream

I had a peculiar dream last night, but one from which an interesting story could arise.

I dreamed that I was a member of the crew of the Starship Enterprise (The Next Generation). I was on a foreign planet with Jean-Luc Picard and some others. My son was there, too, though I don’t know that he was important to the story. It seemed that Jean-Luc was grooming me to be his second-in-command.

We were trying to make some manner of peace or association with these people. I think they were new to the federation. There was something about the planet that the inhabitants wanted to keep secret from us. They were reluctant to let us keep, for example, any empty bottles, as if the residue of the contents or in the bottles themselves would give something away. Somehow, they would take things right out of our hands without us really noticing.

At some point, we were sent off. They were angry with us. They sent us to a crevasse nearby. Well, they were actually chasing us, I think. Nevertheless, we thought this crevasse would be safe. Everything was covered with deep snow. It came to above my knees.

We looked down in and thought we saw just rock formations. I realized that they were derelict spaceships and other craft, included a jeep-looking thing that had just passed us. Other ships passed down the crevasse, seemingly on patrol. We tried to keep low and hidden whenever these ships passed by.

We were noticed though and the ships would turn and climb up the walls of the crevasse to try to get to us. And I mean, turn. The ships were flexible and animal like. Sort of reminiscent of Voltron. It was like a ‘standard’ spaceship as it patrolled, but it would contort itself to turn and climb out of the crevasse. One seemed intent on climbing out and engaging us. Picard ordered me to go out and shoot at it, which I did. My laser weapon had no effect, but the ship *poof* disappeared.

Picard asked me if I had offered it food and supplies like he had told me to. I hadn’t, because he ordered me to shoot at it.

That was when I realized that something weird was happening. Yes, we were all together, but none of us were having the same experiences. Something was controlling our perceptions. I wonder if we were in a holo-deck or under some mind-control or something. I talked to Picard and he agreed. We were trying to figure out what to do. People would disappear then reappear. What was real and what was programmed we could not distinguish.

Some crazy creepy things were happening. We saw a police car that was occupied by a human, a dog and a cat (I think) who stared down on us through a glass ceiling. Their eyes were huge. Then we looked again and they were gone.

There was also this whispy black craft that hovered in front of us for a few moments. It also promptly disappeared when we shot at it.

There were other people there, but they seemed to not notice us. One tried to play poker with my son and I while we were trying to get the boy’s equipment together to play hockey. That was just weird.

I think the crevasse was where the ‘unwanteds’ were sent. Ships patrolled to insure that they stayed there.

***

I think the part about perceptions and potential mind control could be a good jumping off point for a book. I’ll have to think about that some. What do you think?

Ski Accidents

Maybe it’s just the time of year to reflect on the brevity of life. Maybe it’s because it struck a little close to home. Or maybe it’s just because.

Last week a student at the University of Rochester died. She had been an employee in my lab, someone in whom I trusted and knew would always do good work. She was a generally happy person, and judging by her accomplishments both in and out of the classroom, I knew she would be successful.

She died last week. It was what people have called a “freak accident.” She was skiing (she was a capable skier and ski instructor) and took a bad fall, struck a hidden rock, and that was it.

How short life is.

We all get older, and death is inevitable, but why some people die and others should live defies rationality. And that’s fine. Accidents happen.

Some people search for an explanation in God or other types of faith. I’m not one of those. It doesn’t mean that I think I know the answers or that such issues don’t bother me as much as other people. It bugs me. There’s just nothing I can do.

Here’s what’s left:

1) I’ll never think about skiing the same way again. I don’t ski often – in fact it’s probably been ten years – but I have gone down-hill skiing and I have enjoyed it. I have lots of skier friends. Heck, I was raised in Salt Lake City, home of the Winter Olympics back in 2002. Skiing is a completely natural past-time to me, even with its risks. But now, someone I know has died.

2) I’m stuck dwelling on how short and precious life is. I like to think that I’ve had a good run and if I died tomorrow, I’d leave a worthwhile legacy. Then there are people like this student whose lives were just beginning and their legacy left to write. That makes me sad. There are still others who, for whatever reason, reach old age and die without leaving a legacy either. They’ve spent their time on notions of the moment without concerns for the future – their’s or anyone else’s. Which of these two are a greater shame?

So let’s not forget that our lives can end at any moment. Make sure we live our lives to the fullest, remembering (but not dwelling on) the past, and planning for the future while still enjoying today.

On the Necessity of Education

This morning I was checking my Twitterfeed and came across this post by James Purefoy about some article in The Guardian that upset him and had him bemoaning the necessity of better education. Because Mr. Purefoy and I seem to share a similar philosophy about life, I clicked the link.

Sick to my stomach, but how to educate and stop it? guardian.co.uk/society/2012/n…

— James Purefoy (@JamesPurefoy) November 20, 2012

The article was about female genital mutilation (FGM). It bothered me enough that I couldn’t really read the whole article. It did set my mind whirling, though. Three things came to me:

1) I thought about our friend, Jan Eisler, who is a secular celebrant and performed our wedding so many years ago. She was a vocal activist against FGM. I haven’t talked to her in ages, though we’ve managed to keep in touch. We need to plan a visit.

2) The concept of FGM makes me cringe, of course. I’m female. I don’t want that done to me. It does in some ways call to question the common act of circumcision of boys in this country. What if that’s just as bad? I know I thought about it quite a bit when my son was born. I know I did some research that seemed to indicate that there were some benefits to circumcision, and some risks. In the long haul, it seemed that circumcision is not detrimental to boys. But what if I’m wrong? What if it’s just so institutionalized that we think nothing of it? I shudder to think about it.

3) I remember one day when I was a graduate student and some random person came to my apartment door, and I (perhaps foolishly) opened it. It was a young man, carrying his bible, trying to engage people in conversation, presumably to convert them. He said to me (and I’m paraphrasing), “What do you think we need to solve the world’s problems of hate, starvation, and sadness?” Of course it was a loaded question. He didn’t expect that I’d have an answer. “Education,” I replied. “Because if people knew better they wouldn’t do horrible or stupid things.” I still stand by that. I think a lot of the world’s problems could be solved with education.

That’s why I teach. That’s why I keep learning. And I’ll do that until I die.

Anxiety and Travel

So it’s holiday time. For many, that means travel, which frequently includes massive headaches and stress. This year, I get to travel. I don’t tend to cope well with travel. I have an anxiety disorder which makes me stress out unnecessarily. It’s only made worse when I have to travel with the family. I get so bent out of shape for nothing! I can’t explain it. I just flip out. That’s why it’s called a disorder! If it made sense, it’d be no big thing. I’d hate to be around me on a day like today.

So, yeah. Today promises to be a ‘fun’ day. I hope the bar is open in Newark during the layover.

I’m looking forward to the trip, though, and will be so glad when we’ve arrived. I haven’t seen my parents in a year. They’re always fun to spend time with. And we’ll be in the mountains!

And there will be no mass spectrometer. No in-laws. Heck, maybe I’ll actually have a chance to have a private moment with the husband, with whom I seem to never connect of late.

Well, that is if I don’t kill him before we leave.