Panties and Seduction

I brought a change of clothes with me to work today. On the bus this morning, I had to rustle around in my backpack to find the book I'm currently reading. In the process of pulling the book out of my bag, I managed to fling my colorful thong across the aisle and into the lap of a male passenger. As you can imagine, this was rather embarrassing, and I quickly snatched the panties and stuffed them back into the bag.

I was then further embarrassed to pull out my book, which is coincidentally titled 'Seducing the Boys Club' *. My fellow passenger took note, and I can only imagine what he thought of that.

*Recommended over at YFS's blog. A pretty good read so far, although I'm only 30 pages in. I think I've already learned an effective technique for dealing with MAC.

The Pursuit of Happiness at Work

While I was on vacation last week, my husband and I heard an interesting news story on the radio related to happiness at work. I've tried for the life of me to find the story on the internets to no avail. So you will just have to take my word for it.

Apparently, some group has scientifically shown that if you want to be happy at work, you have to be happy with what you do. Interestingly, achievements such as promotions and awards have little to no effect on an employee's happiness, because in essence, they don't really alter the day-to-day reality of a particular job.

The story went on to say that this phenomenon hits middle aged people particularly hard, because they've worked their whole lives under the assumption that promotions, prestige, and a prominent career is what they're after- that it will make them happy. Once they have all of these things, they realize that they are still miserable. It's termed 'supernova burnout': a sense of boredom and frustration due to a psychologically unrewarding job despite having all of the accoutrements of success.

I have to wonder how prominent such an effect is in the academic world. Are there a lot of senior professors out there who really don't enjoy what they do, or did those people all drop out of grad school? Or leave science shortly after obtaining a Ph.D.? It must be a horrible feeling.

Although I've never thought about it previously in such a pointed fashion, it is true that merit-based accomplishments have done little to affect my happiness throughout life. I've won various awards throughout undergrad and grad school, but they didn't have an effect on my thoughts about a career trajectory or change the way I approached my current responsibilities.

Even though it took a long time to earn a Ph.D., I can't say that having the degree itself is what makes me happy. Perhaps it would be fair to say that what makes me happy is what my degree enables. Really, I do the same work as a senior grad student... developing new research ideas, executing ideas at the bench, stuck in front of an Excel spreadsheet, or using my mad-writing skills to create manuscript masterpieces. Ha.

So if I wasn't happy with what I was doing before, why would I be happy now?

If I become a professor, my job description will probably change a lot. Because of that, I'm not sure how happy or satisfied the job would make me. But I know such a position would enable me to do even more than I do now, and I suppose that's all I can really ask.

Heavy Furniture

This month's Scientiae topic asks us to consider transitions. Anyone with an academic life is an expert in transitions, I suppose. Anyone outside of academics would simply believe that I have a penchant for moving (10 years, 5 states, 14 moves). It is part of the game we play, part of the air we breathe. Geography is just another variable in our lovely life equations.

There seems to be some kind of correlation between age, amount of furniture, and ease of transitioning. As a 22-year-old, I moved across the country to Grad City with a couple of suitcases, a computer, and 5 boxes shipped by train. I slowly began to play house, buying things like real pots and pans, and a down comforter (after which I named my bed 'The Plush'). It was fun at the time to grow into my adult self.

Life got so complicated when I was in grad school. I dealt with a fair amount of personal/professional turmoil (great story for another time). Because of the turmoil, I had to move (locally). I had started acquiring furniture. I was having a harder time adapting. A few years later, I moved in with my (now) husband. I had a fair amount of furniture. I had an exceptionally hard time adapting. I developed an eating disorder. Awesome.

Given that my relocation across the country to Postdoc City involved moving an entire apartment of furniture (the heaviest piece being my husband), I was afraid my entire life would implode. Thankfully, I skirted another round of Friday-mornings-with-a-therapist but still struggled significantly with adapting to my new home and work environments. I was honestly miserable for my first 4-5 months here.

So what's my problem? Will it always be like this? I like to think of myself as a dynamic and flexible individual, but clearly my experiences indicate otherwise. I get stuck in the mud. I have a hard time with change. Blah, blah, blah. Go figure that I'd pick a career in academics.

QUESTION to the more successful transitioners out there: What's your secret? Does your family operate a moving company? Do you medicate yourself with Prozac?

Go on Vacation, Get a Job Offer

My husband has been consulting at a scientific company in his field for the past month or so. They have been stringing him along in one way or another for about 3 months now and were dragging their feet about making an offer for various reasons. Although the consulting gig was going well, my husband was unsure as to whether they would ever offer him a permanent position.

We have been wanting to go on a family vacation for a while. The timing has never been good, due to employment limbo and the associated lack of money. Several weeks ago, we just said fuck it. If this company didn't want to commit to an offer, then there was no reason why my husband had to commit to no vacation. So we left for a week.

Apparently, they missed him.

We arrived home to a respectable offer letter sitting in the mailbox.

I hardly know what to do with myself now that I can't sit around chewing my fingernails over our two-bodied problem. As of a couple of months ago, it had gotten to the point of such extreme anxiety on my part that my only coping mechanism was to become numb to it. Numb to my husband's one-year unsuccessful job search, numb to my role in his abdication of a stable job, moving for the sake of a postdoc position in which I was struggling, numb to the limitations of having a Ph.D... The news was never good, and I found it easier to turn my head. So now, after such numbness, it all seems a bit anti-climatic. I'm having to slap myself around a bit to realize the magnitude of the occasion.

So, hear me, internets! My biggest problem is resolved!

And as with any fable, there are important lessons to be learned from the story of our dual Ph.D. job search: 1. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and 2. When in doubt, take a vacation.

Roger That

ROGERS.

It's what my cell phone says when I'll be charged $10/minute if I dare to make a call. (As to who Roger is, I have no idea.)

I'm in the sticks.

So there will be silence around here, except for the sounds of crickets and crackling campfires.

It Takes Two to Tango

Last year, my lab received of a very large sum of research money geared toward the study of Mangos. Because the funding agency wants our lab to make significant progress in the study of Mangos, they have plunked down enough cash to support an army of researchers who are intended to work in parallel (and presumably in harmony) to investigate various aspects of Mango science. This has resulted in the unusual situation of a large number of postdocs joining our lab within a span of 6 months, all of which are intended to work on the Mango problem. I haven’t seen any claws come out yet, but I get the feeling that these conditions will create the inevitable perfect storm.

Since shortly after my arrival in the lab, the postdocs on the Mango project have been jockeying for position. The situation has gotten more complicated and disconcerting as the months have passed and more troops have arrived. It helps that the Mango personnel come from a variety of backgrounds (and thus are interested and capable of performing different aspects of Mango research). However, the whole point of having such a diverse group of people work on the same problem is the potential (and, perhaps, necessity) of interdisciplinary collaboration. I have been getting the impression that most of the Mango researchers would rather shoot themselves in the foot than collaborate with one of their colleagues.

Of course, it is no surprise that the goal of many of the postdocs here is to obtain quality first author publications. I think that many of the postdocs are focusing too much on the first author part of the equation and not enough on the quality. Research stories are always more interesting when they are multi-faceted, robust efforts that combine the strengths of various disciplines. I personally wouldn’t have an issue with farming out a small part of my research plan to someone who is an expert in that particular experiment. I would know that I conceived of the idea and plan, would perform most of the experiments, and would write up the manuscript. It is ludicrous to think that asking for assistance is the equivalent of relinquishing first authorship. Perhaps these postdocs have the ‘if I give an inch, they’ll take a yard’ mentality… but I don’t buy it.

I was shocked this week when one of my more challenging colleagues approached me about a collaboration. Specifically, said colleague wanted to try a variation on one of the experiments I do with something that s/he had made, except s/he didn’t want to take the time to figure out the experiments for herself. After I got over my initial shock, I agreed to help my colleague. I don’t think there’s much of a chance of the work being successful, but it will require minimal effort on my part, and there is the chance that I will get my name on a paper if things pan out. Seems like a win/win for both of us.

Harnessing the Power of Bullshit

Ladies and gentleman*, it is with a squeal of delight that I inform you of the completion of my fellowship application. After toiling incessantly for the last 5 days on the beastly cryptic application, I have walked away a little bit impressed with my ability to bullshit like a pro. Although it seemed like a lot of work, it took significantly less effort than it would have a couple of years ago.

The downside to working on such an optimistic, fudge-filled piece of writing for such a long stretch of time is that I'm having trouble letting go of my 'application speak' in normal conversation. A sample exchange from my afternoon in the lab:

My Favorite Technician: So, what ever happened with that experiment from last week?
Me: The experiment aided in the elucidation of a variety of critical system parameters.
MFT: Say what?
Me: The ground-breaking results have significant potential to impact the lives of millions of patients worldwide and to transform the ways in which we view modern medicine.
MFT: Give me some of that cheap weed that you've been smoking.

Don't worry- I'm trying hard to reintroduce normal English words back into my spoken vocabulary.

*Still no proof that more than one man reads this blog. I guess I haven't been writing enough about manly topics, such as my picks for the 2008-2009 hockey season or how to cook the perfect strip of bacon.

This and That

Two items:

1. I'd like to welcome an excellent new science blogger, Isis the Scientist, to our wonderful online community. She has some amusing things to say, and I hope she keeps us informed about the office romance down the hall.

2. As a scientist, I spend a lot of time working with pipets, which can often lead to sore thumbs at the end of the work day. Wouldn't it be nice to have an automated pipetting system? Eppendorf certainly thinks so. I don't know whether to applaud them or bitch slap them for coming up with that gem. I particularly enjoyed the lyrics concerning DNA and the use of a pipet as a prop on the beach. I am embarrassed for the people in this video, but I thank them for the laugh. Apparently, scientists have a sense of humor. I wouldn't know anything about that.

Writing Your Own Letter of Recommendation

This is by far one of the most awkward and uncomfortable things I have ever had to do in my academic life. From what I understand, it is not by any means unheard of to have to write your own letter of recommendation, but I've never had to do it before. Unfortunately, Extremely Famous Advisor does not have the time to put together a letter for someone he barely knows. So, I submit to you, dear reader, a letter of recommendation for myself.

To Whom it May Concern:

It is with extreme enthusiasm and delight that I offer my highest recommendation for the application of Dr. Candid Engineer. All truth be told, we were absolutely thrilled when Candid Engineer decided to join our research team despite the incredibly low pay and overwhelming, crack habit-inducing work atmosphere in my lab. Prior to coming to Brilliant University, Candid Engineer completed her doctoral work with Prof. Awesome Guy at Grad University, which is home to one of the most premiere Fruit research departments in the world (although Brilliant University and my own personal laboratory are way way better). This is totally a step up for Candid Engineer.

Candid Engineer came to us with incredible recommendations and an exceptional resume that really set her apart from the millions of other applications we receive on an annual basis for postdoctoral positions. My laboratory’s popularlity is truly awe-inspiring. As a grad student, Candid Engineer pioneered some areas of research that no one else really cared about while managing to win some spectacular awards, and although I’ve never read her publications, I bet they are stupendous.

Candid Engineer is a woman for all seasons. Since her arrival, she has truly impressed us with her inability to adapt to new circumstances and her overwhelming desires to hide from her insane labmates and work in the cold room. Candid Engineer thinks out of the box and is extremely likely to develop ingenious solutions that her supervisor will promptly shoot down. She reminds me of a native person in the wild, eagerly foraging for tasty (yet hard to obtain) high-flying fruit. Candid Engineer is a natural leader, whose friendliness and brutal honesty make her a colleague who others can only describe as difficult and scary. Additionally, she has some of the best breasts we have ever seen on a researcher at this stage of her career.

I am very excited to nominate Candid Engineer for a Postdoctoral Fellowship studying High-Flying Bananas and Mangoes. Candid Engineer is well-suited to such a project, given her similar yet orthogonal abilities in Grapefruit gathering. She will provide unique and valuable perspective amidst of sea of monkeys and flying gnats.

In summary, Candid Engineer offers a complete package of candor, masochism, brilliance, good looks, and leadership skills. She is destined for a wonderful career in academia after the completion of her work in this lab, and we are confident that she will make us proud (although not as proud as some of my super terrific students have made me). She represents the upper half of upcoming scientists and has the potential to accomplish something or another at some stage of her career (even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while). I could not be more pleased to provide Candid Engineer with my very best, completely over-the-top recommendation.

Survival of the Fittest

Lately, I've been thinking about scientists and health. Exciting, I know.

More specifically, I've been wondering if people whose profession is directly related to health (e.g. biologists, biomedical scientists, bioengineers, clinicians, nurses, veterinarians, etc.) tend to be healthier than those who don't work in such fields. I have noticed that a fairly large proportion of science bloggers engage in some kind of semi-serious physical activity and seem to be pretty health-conscious. I have also noticed that there are a lot of good-looking people in my lab.

And I have been thinking about how my body will compare to those of my fit and trim labmates at an impeding summer beach party, good Lord.

But seriously, a lot of the people in my health-oriented lab are quite healthy! It blows my mind that I cannot think of a single overweight person in my (extremely populous) lab, well, except an administrative assistant. I am not sure what the reasons could be for such physical fitness on the part of my labmates, but I will offer the following possibilities:

1. People who do research on human disease are incredibly cognizant of the hazards of poor health and the horrible consequences of illness, and are subsequently more inclined to keep their own health in good to excellent condition.
2. My labmates have no time to eat (a claim which is substantiated by emails I receive from labmates at 4am looking for fifty milliliters of buffer or begging for the return of a long-lost HPLC column). If these people are worried about this kind of shit so late at night, then obviously they have no time to eat.
   
3. My labmates have no money for food. Like I've mentioned before, after I pay my household's rent, health insurance, and transportation expenses, I am left with precisely $110 per month for utilites, food, and recreation. It's astonishing that I haven't dwindled into a waif and been featured on the July 2008 cover of Vogue. [Feature story: SCIENCE- It's What's Eating You].
   
4. My labmates exercise like crazy. Unfortunately, this contradicts hypothesis #2. Impossible.
5. My labmates are limited by our lab space. Literally. There is no extra room in our lab, and this is strong incentive to keep one's weight in check. I wish I was joking on this one, but I'm really not. THERE IS NO SPACE. One of these days, I'm going to be operating a centrifuge out of my lap.
   

Of course, I could always refuse to attend the summer beach party to avoid comparison with the hot bods of my smarty pants labmates. After all, it is a pretty long drive, and I could make some excuse about having to calibrate my pipets for an important experiment. Alternatively, I could exercise like crazy for the next several weeks and watch every bite that goes into my mouth in the hopes that I will shed a few pounds and be transformed into some giant muscle. Maybe then I'll be able to keep up with Extremely Famous Advisor, who is known for his proclivity to prance around the beach and have photos taken without a shirt.

Chasing Fireflies

For the first time since I was an undergraduate, I was able to return to my motherland during the hottest part of the summer. My parents put on a festive shindig on Saturday, and I had ample opportunity to relive childhood memories, including binging on fruit salad and engaging my father in a heated bean bag toss. As the sun set that evening, I sat back into the arms of the substantial, saturated air, and watched the fireflies flicker from the comforts of a lawn chair.

What a single, solitary moment of happiness. I had forgotten how simple life could feel.

With eagerness, I zeroed in on one particular firefly, and hopped across the grass, barefoot, to see if I could catch it. My clumsy hands surrounded the creature, and when I peeked through the cracks between my fingers, there is was: flash on, flash off. Flash on, flash off. I let the bug go, and out of some long-forgotten habit, brought my palms to my face. The scent of firefly was the same as it always had been.

Funny to think that I used to do little more than chase fireflies around the yard; now, I make use of their proteins in bioluminescence assays. My, how things have changed.

Candid Engineer, Ph.D.

There has been a recent flurry of conversation in my life surrounding the inclusion of degrees in one’s email title and signature. To do or not to do? I am bound to offend someone with this post, so my apologies in advance.

Personally, I have always found it odd when a degree is added in the name/title of an email- that is, the name that shows up in other people’s inbox. For example, I occasionally get an email from ‘Random Colleague, M.D., Ph.D.’ I interpret this as the sender’s attempt to establish a pecking order in this world (and to establish that s/he is at the top of it). I base this interpretation on two things:

1. All of the people I know who include such degrees in their title tend to be arrogant in real life.
2. I never see anyone with an email title of ‘Random Colleague, B.S.’ or ‘Random Colleague, High School Diploma’.

My point here is that only people at the top of the food chain seem to enjoy advertising their position. And in my opinion, if you are at the top of the chain, you don’t need to tell people that you are important.

More common, perhaps, is the inclusion of one’s degree in the email signature. I have gone back and forth on this one. I certainly don’t mind when someone else includes it in their signature, because in the context of all of the other information found in a signature, it is simply informative. As to whether or not I should include it in my own signature has been a real debate for me. I am loathe to be perceived as arrogant by people I don’t even know, and so there has been significant reluctance on my part to adopt such a signature. Until recently, my signature began as:

Candid Engineer
Postdoctoral Researcher

I thought that the term ‘postdoctoral researcher’ was self-explanatory and that it obviously meant I had my Ph.D. But I found over time that a lot of people don’t know what a postdoctoral researcher is, and in some cases, this has lead to confusion. So, with my husband’s encouragement, I changed my signature to the following:

Candid Engineer, Ph.D.
Extremely Good-Looking
Postdoctoral Researcher

Just kidding, people. Just kidding.

Big Mouth and a Wagging Tongue

One of my fondest recurring childhood memories is of my father, who would put in long hours working in the yard and return to the house just before supper time, covered in sweat and grass clippings. He would head for the shower, leaving the door ajar so that the steam could escape, and in his striking alto voice, he would belt out 'The Wind Beneath My Wings'. No matter where I was in the house (or even in the backyard), I could always hear him, flying higher than an eagle, so high he almost touched the sky. And I would wonder, of all of the songs in the world, why my father had to be so enamored with that cheese-infested song.

Perhaps it is from him that I have learned to be so free with words. I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut. Which, of course, is bound to lead to occasional problems, but I have actually found it to be a rather useful trait in the world of academia. Here are the top five reasons why this solo singer likes her big mouth (no microphone required):

1. Giving presentations
• Comfort with public speaking: necessary; eagerness to have everyone enraptured by what you say: a plus; robust voice with a soothing rhythm: a full-featured bonus.
  
2. Getting to know your boss
• If you have interesting things to say (and are willing to go out on a limb to say them), your new boss will be intrigued by you and will be more inclined to have conversations with you in the future. Alternatively, s/he will think you are a total weirdo.
  
3. Self-promotion
• In this profession (and probably in many others), you have to be willing to say good things about yourself. You have to be willing to compare yourself positively to others without sounding like an arrogant jackass. Of course, this is tricky, but I have found that it is better to sound self-important than under-confident.
  
4. Fending off crazy labmates
   
   • If one of your colleagues flips out because he thinks you are using an incorrect concentration of dishwashing solution, you can just blab all of that crazy right back at him. Your colleague will become frightened by your unexpected gusto and will run away.
     
5. Smalltalk, chit-chat, and bullshitting
   
• A necessary evil in any sort of uncomfortable social or work-related circumstance- conferences, in particular. A drink (or two or five*) really helps to lubricate my words at these functions.
  
• I once met a Very Famous Professor (VFP) while inebriated at a conference networking event. VFP is the author of a well-respected textbook, and when I saw his nametag (while in line at the bar), I gushed on and on to him about my love for his book**. VFP was completely gregarious and offered me a postdoc position in his lab to study snake venom (or some equally unrelated topic). The next morning, a mutual acquaintance brought me up in a conversation with him, and he said he had never heard of me. I guess he was drunk, too.
  
• Moral of the story? Feel free to get hammered and compliment the hell out of people, but expect them to forget you the next morning.
  

*Not recommended.
**What is wrong with me?