My job/work/school/life

My first class of the new semester starts on Tuesday and I have a strong desire to write at least one intriguing post about science-y things now, because it feels as though I've not written about that in awhile, and I might not get much of a chance once classes get rolling. It's strange that I don't actually write about science that much because it's a bigger part of my life than most other things I write about. Except my family. Nothing is a bigger part of my life than them.

I think I'll just give you a brief run-down of what I do at work/school because I realize most people don't exactly know what 'being in grad school' entails. And honestly, it can be something very different for each student. And then if I'm inspired to venture out to more topics after this, I will, but probably not in this post.

Currently I am rotating in the Neurosurgery clinic, under the direction of Dr. Matt Howard, at the University of Iowa hospital. In my grad program, students do 3 rotations in different labs in their first year to get a feel of research in different areas and then by summertime they usually choose a lab/are offered a real position in a lab. And that becomes "their lab."  Well, for me it's a little different because, I have to be honest, I came to Iowa specifically to work in Dr. Michelle Voss's lab. She came from University of Illinois, which was my #1 grad school choice because I loved the work from the lab she was a part of. And her new lab here is perfect for me. It's the Health, Brain and Cognition Lab and we use a variety of techniques to delve into the effects of exercise on the brain and how we can use exercise to maximize our cognitive abilities. We are specifically interested in exercise's effects during the aging process into older adulthood, which is a huge issue right now as the proportion of adults over 65 is increasing at a very fast rate. Ultimately, we'd like to find the best ways to slow the aging of the brain and capitalize on the abilities of the brain throughout all of life.

So while the overarching theme of my "job" is to work in that lab, I am now doing a second rotation in the Neurosurgery clinic so I can learn the ropes there and understand how to interact with patients because one of the projects I'm working on is a collaborative effort between Michelle's lab and Neurosurgery and I will eventually be interacting with patients (in a research sense. I won't be treating them or anything). As a student in this lab, I attend meetings at 7 am Monday and Wednesday and then spend the day either learning new techniques from other people in the lab or reading and working on projects on my own. I have to read a lot of papers that explain techniques I don't yet know or that discuss new theories that we can incorporate into our research. I often have to compare across papers to get a broader idea of the research topic and compile the important pieces into arguments or outlines. I'm also currently learning how to analyze fMRI data (an imaging technique) and developing an iPad app that is a cognitive test we'll be able to use with patients. So that has been a great experience so far- I'm learning a lot about technology and I realize that sometimes it's my friend. And sometimes it's really not.

Basically all of this means that my time is split between the two labs, in a rather independent fashion (meaning go where I need to be when I need to be there and the rest of the time work on my own) which is awesome sometimes and overwhelming and uncomfortable other times. Freedom is great, but it can be frustrating because it requires me to actively plan my day so that I can get as much done as possible, without other people guiding me at all times. Honestly I think that's the aspect of my job that has helped me grow the most so far. Because as it turns out, in life, people don't tell you exactly what to do every second! Who would've guessed that?? (probably all of you because you've already discovered it and I'm the one at the back of the pack)

Anywho, my new classes will all start within the next two weeks so my days will be full of running around to classes, studying for said classes and working in lab when I have the chance.  I think it's going to be a crazy and very exciting semester.  Here's the list of classes I'll be taking:

Medical Neuroscience (it's a med school class...eeeeekkk!!)
Topics in Cognitive Neuroscience (focusing specifically on memory. Heck yes!)
Seminar: Cognitive Psychology (this class will teach me a few programs that we often use for designing experiments. So I'm psyched for that. Psyched. Get it? Yeah, I'm hilarious, just accept it ;)
Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging (fMRI, the functional imaging technique we use in our lab a lot, meaning this course will be directly applicable to my research. Again, heck yes)
And then a weekly seminar course for our program...during which I will have to, probably during spring, give a presentation on my rotation. I'll admit it, I'm a nerd....because I'm kind of really looking forward to giving that presentation :)

Now I really better get to bed or I might fall asleep during that 7 am meeting tomorrow!

At some point, I'll be writing a post that is basically a bunch of musings inspired by this great book I just finished called The Happiness Hypothesis. Now that was a feel-good popular psychology book if I've ever read one. And I have. I've read a lot of them.

Until then......tak for reading!

Taking a risk. Don't make me regret it.

Here's a warning, what's coming up is embarrassing. For me. But it's really too good not to share. I trust all of you with take it in good humor and not hold the lame-ness of past Rachel against present or future Rachel.

I'm home this weekend and was lucky enough to stumble upon this fancy green journal that I write in about once a year. I don't purposely write on the exact same day but the yearly entry usually occurs right before I go to school in August or January. So basically right now. This journal is kind of awesome because there are only about 8 entries and yet it contains so much of my life. I re-read all of the entries every time I find it, of course. And I'm thoroughly enjoying some of the ridiculous things past me has said. Most of it is about school and how in my wildest dreams I get to do research with "exercise, mice, cognitive functions?? something like that!" And what do you know...that's what I do now! (minus the mice)

Anyway, the real part that I just have to share is this juicy tidbit, which was written in Aug. 2010, a few months after my long-term relationship had ended and I was enjoying the single life again.  Seriously, don't judge. But you may laugh. And yes, it's directed to a future boy. I guess I'm an optimist.

*insert paragraph of partially-insightful comments on life and love and being independent*

"So boy...wherever you are right now...know that I am looking forward to meeting you. But for the time being, I'm riding solo (remember that song?...it's a big hit right now) and I'm loving it."

Oh past Rachel, you crack me up. Thanks for that.

Along those lines...here's another good story for the books. My mom told me the other day that she was cleaning out our beautiful big desk and she found some old Clark Christmas letters. While reading through them she found this:
(I'm paraphrasing....I haven't read the actual letter yet. It's hidden amongst the Christmas decorations currently.)
"Rachel is now in first grade. She has quite the personality. She came home on the first day of school and said 'Mom, I'm having boy problems.'  We said, 'Oh really? What's going on, Rachel?'
She replied "Ryan keeps trying to kiss me and he won't stop calling me hot lips!!"

I don't quite know why I was so distraught about this situation. Apparently I thought 'hot lips' was an insult?  Anyway, all of our family and friends were privileged enough to hear that story so I thought I better entertain you with it as well.

Happy Saturday night :)

Paying for pain. Or art. Or both.

I guess it was last fall that I started thinking about getting this tattoo. Prior to that I never really pictured myself actively seeking out someone to stick me with a needle...multiple times. And if I ever did, I imagined the result would be a really cool looking dinosaur or neuron (neither of which are totally out of the question, by the way), but here I am...23-years old and I just let some guy ink my foot...nay, I paid some guy to ink my foot. And I'm not at all upset about it.  Actually, it feels very normal now to have it be a part of me.

The tat:
It's the danish phrase "mine helte", which means my heroes, and in between the two words is an infinity sign. Originally I wanted my last name somewhere in the tattoo as well (I'll straight up admit I love my last name and it seemed like a really good way to connect to that part of my family), but that was all a little too complicated for the size I wanted so I simplified it.

The backstory:
When I was in Denmark I sent some postcards home to my family. One of them was a picture of a dad, decked out in a normal business suit and a tie....and a cape. And he was flying. Hence, he was a super hero. It said
"fa, du er min helt."       =       "Dad, you are my hero."

Ok, I'll admit the original postcard was in swedish. Because I had bought it in Sweden. But Denmark is closer to my heart so I just switched it.

Initially I wanted that phrase, written into an infinity sign, because I always want to remember how he and his love transcend this life and even though we no longer have him here, he was, still is and always will be my hero.

Well, in the simplifying of the design I realized that I wanted it to be about my whole family, because I cannot express how much they mean to me and how grateful I am for the way we have all dealt with this year together.  So now the phrase is plural (my heroes) and my hope is that it will always remind me where my priorities lie--- with the people I love and doing things that will make them proud and show them I love them.

Every single time I've looked at my foot in the past few days (I had it done last Thursday) I've literally thought "holy *********, I have a tattoo!!"  But each time it makes me smile and I have to tell you, I didn't even cry while I was getting it!! I maybe did sweat a lot. Actually, yeah I really did sweat a lot. Mostly my hands. And the foot that was being inked. So that was weird. But I may have been trying to impress someone so I think that was what kept the tears at bay. I will say that it was a bit of an adrenaline rush...but don't take that to mean it didn't hurt. Because it did. It totally did.

And on another, and completely unrelated, note, I've already treated myself to a slightly ridiculous amount of new music this year. Maybe that should've been one of my resolutions: buy lots of awesome new music. Because then I'd feel not only totally justified but also really successful with how many songs I've bought on iTunes just this week. Here's one of my faves:  (it's from the soundtrack of a favorite movie as well)  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3JA25au7Itw

I have a few other amusing stories from this week but this is already a pretty action packed post so I'll leave it be for now.

Happy first full week of 2013 :)

So it's the last day of 2012

And, if I were to follow social norms I'd probably write a nice post looking back on 2012 and making resolutions for the new year. But to be honest, I don't want to do that. And really, do I seem like one whose main goal is to follow social norms? Plus, our traditional New Year's Eve celebration with my family and Mike and Ginny always entails some really nice reflection and reading of resolutions we made last year. And it truly is one of my favorite parts of our get-together. However, given the heaviness of this year's events, I'll save the reflections and tears for this evening and devote this post to....well I'm not sure yet. Probably a bunch of random things.

Like my absolute failure to eat a candy cane without biting it constantly. You know all those kids who could craft their candy canes into sharp points and wield them against their friends (or enemies)....yeah, that wasn't me. I guess I'll have to learn some other method of defending myself against the scary Christmas elves (ask me about the movie Rare Exports if you're wondering why I'd think any Christmas elves are scary).

Like my ingenious idea of the Modern Mixtape (previously known as The Mixtape of the 21st Century), which is going to stay only an idea until I figure out how to make someone at Apple/iTunes listen to me. Basically I want to be able to purchase songs on iTunes and put them in a specific playlist that has a self-determined cool title (i.e. Songs for your medial geniculate nucleus) and then gift that playlist unto one of my friends, via their iTunes account or a fancy little code they could use to download it. There it is, the one and only genius invention of mine. If any of you have an in with the bigwigs of Apple, please slip them a note on a napkin about this idea.

Like why the words genius and ingenious mean pretty much the same thing (albeit one is a noun and one is an adjective) and yet, according to other examples from the English language, it seems like they should have opposite meanings. Thank you English for the many exceptions to the already confusing rules.

Like the epic Christmas gift exchange we did the other day at Seyb Christmas. The brainchild of my cousin Hannah, we drew each other's names out of a hat and then trekked over to the big yellow house (my Grandma Audrey and Grandpa Darrell's "empty" house). Though it no longer houses the life and love it once did, it is nonetheless full of treasures and memories. We took turns (kids, then adults) searching the house for the best gifts for the person we picked out of the hat. We filled our bag(s) and then returned to Doug's house to exchange the treasures. It was a hoot and a half! I couldn't believe some of the awesome stuff that came out of there. I am pleased to announce I received a Wheatie's box from 1998 that had the Olympic Gold Medal US Women's Hockey team on it. A collector's item. Apparently Grandma believed that its value would increase exponentially. It might be worth about $5 now? But I'm pleased to own it :)

Like how Tucker might have been the real winner because he received a bag of change that Abby had found and I believe the total turned out to be somewhere around $60. Ha! I do think we all made out like bandits because we truly enjoyed spending the time with each other...and that's the real treasure :D

Ok, it's New Year's Eve and I have to go cheer for the Cyclones- it's the Liberty Bowl!

Thank you to everyone who has read this blog...you've given me an audience, which is more than I can ask for. There will be more insights, laughs and things I'm bound to learn in the next year.
Much love to you all and best wishes for a beautiful 2013.

-Rachel

Words and excerpts of life

I'm laying at home on the couch by the beautifully lit tree, listening to Christmas music. Nothing is going to move me save my need for tea or cookies. So be prepared, this one is going to be long.

Firstly, words.

(from a few days ago)  prophylaxis: prevention of or protective treatment for disease or illness. 

I find it odd that I never truly knew what prophylactic antibiotics or treatment meant. Now I do!

concatenation: joining two character strings together end-to-end

I'm learning about this in terms of computer programming! I know, you didn't realize I went to school to learn programming. Neither did I, but I'm learning it nonetheless :)

Now it's time for some stories. Let's call this, excerpts of life: specifically, of cars, of cookies, of monsters and men.

Of Cars

Two little stories. One is of how I searched for the my car in a parking garage the other day. 

1. I normally prefer free parking over $$ parking garage parking any day, even though the free parking entails a 10-15 minute walk to work (usually accompanied by a nice, cold headwind), but last Friday I had a lot of errands to run and wanted to make the most of the little time I had at work, so I begrudgingly parked in the very nearby garage. After a few hours at work I rushed to my car so I could return to my apartment and get ready for that evening's dinner party. This particular parking garage is especially confusing because there are two sets of stairs/elevators, A and B, but the only actual entrance is on the A side, while the entrance that gets me to side B is where the cashier and credit card machines sit. And although I have parked and walked up and down on both sides, I currently do not know how to get from one to the other. So whenever I park on the B side, I awkwardly walk where cars would be driving since I don't know where I should actually be walking. This fateful day, I knew I parked near the B stairs but I could not quite remember where. So I walk past the amused looking cashier (obviously amused because I look like an idiot, walking up the car lane), and then I walk up two sets of stairs and think "I must've parked on this level."  I walk to where I thought my car was...and realize it is not there. I walk to another possible area and no, it's not there either (turns out I had parked there a few weeks ago and the memories were blurring with reality).  Eventually I get the genius idea to hit my lock button a few times so the car honks. And suddenly I'm playing marco-polo with a stationary inanimate object. And I'm losing.

But I find my car. Eventually. One level above where I started. As I get in my car, finally the victor in this odd little game, some guy gets out of a neighboring car and I realize he witnessed that whole thing. And now he's chuckling. Probably because I'm 23, and not 80, which would be a much more respectable age for such behavior. 

2. Today I drove back to Newton from the Twin Cities, where I was visiting my friend Bess. It was an enjoyable ride as I metaphorically raced the storm that was inevitably going to hit Central Iowa like a ton of...snow...in the afternoon. (Ironically, I only saw snow for about 10 minutes. And that was in Minnesota. The Iowa driving was a breeze, for which I was very grateful.) Back to the story-- I'll admit it, I enjoy cruise control. I'm a bit of an oscillating driver, meaning my speed is usually proportional to the BPM of the music on the radio. And since I found this new station called BPM and it's basically high-paced remixes, I took great advantage of cruise control today.  I was cruising at a steady 75 mph on the 70 speed limit highway. (Although I hate illegal things, I feel okay about 5 mph over. I justify it by how many people pass me.) While I drive, I like to people watch as I pass people who are even more speed conscious than I am. As I pass this white suburban, I glance and smile at the man driving....ok, I may have also been bobbing my head to the radio during this glance. I wanted to think he smiled back but it was more of a "Kids these days...." shaking of the head at my seemingly reckless and youthful behavior.

So I drive for a few minutes, am at least 100 feet ahead of the white suburban and then I see a highway patrol car staked out in a NO U-TURN area. As much as I hate doing any illegal things, I hate doing even marginally illegal things in the vicinity of patrolmen even more. So I tap my breaks and slow to a comfortable 68 as I pass the cop. 5 seconds later I look to my right and there is the white suburban, whose driver is having a hearty chuckle at the situation he just witnessed. My cop-fearing behavior may have been just a tad too obvious, making my seemingly-reckless behavior a little more pathetic.  

You're welcome people of the world, for the amusement. I do try.  

Of Cookies

Let it be known, I love making Christmas cookies. Okay, I love making any type of cookies any time of the year, but especially now that the winter is a bit too cold, the days are dark far too soon and the snowstorms come with thunder (that part is just weird, I agree). This is a shout out to my girl Bess and her handy cookie-baking skills. I stayed with Bess for the past few days to enjoy St. Paul and see one of my (our) favorite bands' in concert in the hip downtown metropolis of Minneapolis (see next excerpt).  So Bess and I get it in our heads that we need to bake Christmas cookies (to complement the vast amount of brunch, pastries and coffee we had already consumed). Bess found a recipe for chocolate biscotti with pistachios, cranberries and chocolate chips...and I wasn't about to say no!!  So on Monday we gather the ingredients (from a grocery store, not from the woods, as I may be making it sound) and follow the directions to a t, measuring loosely as all good chefs do. And it's a grand success! I had no idea that you could make biscotti at home that tastes just like (nay, even better than!) biscotti that you find in cute little coffee shops. But you can, and we did, and it was little less than epic. Bess says she isn't much of a baker. But I beg to differ. As do those perfectly crisp and tasty pieces of biscotti. Well done, non-baker. I declare you to have baked successfully. 

And finally...

Of Monsters and Men

This original reason for my Minnesota trip was to see this particular awesome indie band, Of Monsters and Men, in concert at a trendy downtown venue in Minneapolis.  My mother generously gave me the tickets as a birthday present because this is one of my favorite bands, they are from Iceland and they don't have many shows in America---all reasons that the 4 hour drive was more than worth it to get to see both Bess and the band.  Although getting to the venue was a bit of an adventure...including a wrong exit, some handy mental compass-ing, a split-second realization of a one-way street, a Target sign to guide us and a girl in a fedora to assure us we were going the right way (indie concert = fedoras and hipster glasses galore)..... the concert was incredible! This band is great no matter what but in concert the depth and complexity of their sound was neigh unbelievable. The girl singer's voice is just the right amount of deep and the boy singer's voice is sweet and never overbearing. And then there is the trumpet, which adds a quality to the music that you just don't get with many other bands.  In case you are interested.....here's a link to one of their songs  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jcPqLGSH_oM   Feel free to find the rest and fall in love with the band as much as I did :)

Okay, I will wrap this up soon but I just have to say...... in my humble opinion, them hipsters need to learn how to bust a move!!

No joke, I was thoroughly disappointed by the lack of dancing that occurred at this concert. And maybe this was because at my lovely height of 5'2", I was largely unable to see over the boys in front of me, but I truly think Bess and I were dancing more than at least half that crowd combined. Okay, there may have been a few heads bobbing (a.k.a. hipster glasses and slouchy beanie hats bobbing)...but that didn't even come close to the amount of jumping up and down and rocking out that we did. And am I embarrassed? Not one bit. I thoroughly enjoyed the concert and am proud to claim the "way-too-enthusiastic" label. For Of Monsters and Men, I'll be way-too-enthusiastic any day :) 

Wow, okay I am sorry this is so long but maybe you'll have extra time to read it during the Snowapocalypse that is settling upon the midwest right now.  Off to help my mom shovel! 

Stay safe, warm, and hug everyone you love :)  

-Rachel

It don't mean a thing...

If you ain't got that swing!

Normally I disapprove of the word "ain't"
But in this context...I highly approve.

I'm basically obsessed with swing dancing. I spent all day yesterday in Lindy Hop, Charleston, and Shim Sham workshops and it's been hard to think of anything else since. (This turned out to be not especially helpful as I studied the neurobiology of sleep, automatic postural control and the TRP family of receptors in heat, cold and pain sensation)

Anyway, I also went to a swing dance social last night with a live band, which was incredible. I haven't had that much fun in such a long time. Okay, I may have had that much fun on my birthday weekend, but this was still an impressive amount of fun. I think in total I danced for about 9 hours yesterday. So I guess I'm not that surprised that I woke up feeling about 30 years older, as though I had Charley horses in both my calves and one bad hip. I really was not expecting to be so sore!! But I think that's a good sign....or at least a sign I need to stretch before dancing like a lunatic from the 30's.

Besides just being in love with swing dancing, I've also recently become a big fan of making friends. I think I used to be terrible at it. And now I'm slightly better. And so it's rather enjoyable. But also, I have not met one single swing dancer that was not incredibly nice to me. I apologized kind of profusely after dancing with most of the guys saying I was sorry I wasn't more experienced and I couldn't follow better. They are seriously waved it off and said they hadn't even noticed. And then when I told one guy I was so sorry I stepped on his toes, he said "You weigh 98 pounds...I didn't even notice! And you won't hurt me even if you do :) "  So basically everyone was incredibly nice and they were better swing dancers than I've ever had the pleasure of watching.

All of this being said, I hope you won't be surprised if in the future my hair takes the shape of a short curled bob, I put on a vintage dress and I start buying a ridiculous amount of old-timey music. You'll know why.

Here's a little taste of my new-found love :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRyjW9delmo

And one from the good old days....meaning I think I was born in the wrong decade :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LuLUOk--yxg

Goodnight!