Recently in Self Improvement Category

I've been reading a handful of personal finance blogs for the last six months or so and seeing the same advice over and over - clip the damned coupons. In particular, The Simple Dollar (favorite grocery/coupon posts: 1 2 3) and Get Rich Slowly (favorite grocery/coupon posts: 1 2) hit the grocery strategies with some frequency. I decided to pick up the Sunday paper today and find out if the coupons inside would actually save someone like me any money. There are a few factors I considered in this exercise:

I'm in New England, again! This visit has been too short, largely because I've slept through so much of it; I had to have unexpected surgery last week to remove my gall bladder, which was apparently the source of many of the stupid-headed ailments I couldn't shake. Here's looking to better health. Anyhow, I've been hopped up on the narcolepsy-inducing wonder-drug Vicodin for a good deal of my trip. I have, however, managed to do some cooking, which is a favorite activity to do when I'm out here. Particularly cooking with fish. It's so jealousy-inducing fresh! Bliss. So, Will and I visited the grocery store Wednesday evening in search of good food to welcome me to New England for my second visit. Also, because of the aforementioned surgery, I'm on a (lower sodium) diet that's not terribly compatible with a good deal of his pantry. On our trip, we purchased:

• leeks
• asparagus
• white wine (Sauvignon Blanc - cheap stuff)
• red potatoes
• olive oil & black pepper triscuits
• lots and lots of jello
• a bar of dark chocolate (Chocolove Extra Strong Dark 77%)

We also stopped by the seafood counter to ask for fish heads, hoping to find a good bunch to make fish stock. They had none. "Have anything you want to get rid of soon?" I asked. "Well, if we keep it between you and me..." said the man manning the stand. And so we wound up with four nice looking salmon steaks that were just going to be thrown away about an hour and a half later, for a total of under ten bucks (about half price). Win. Salmon is not traditionally a choice for making fish stock. It's too fatty. But you know what I say to that? POOEY. I for one am willing to try (and fail) once. Using four perfectly good salmon steaks just to make fish stock seemed like kind of a waste, or as we say where I'm from, a fucking travesty. So after the stock was suitably stocky, we decided that there would be a salmon salad made afterwards. That's how we roll. Without further todo: Leek & Potato Soup with Salmon Stock Ingredients

• Four salmon steaks
• One bottle cheap Sauvignon Blanc (or other relatively dry white wine)
• Four large red potatoes, cubed to about 1 inch
• Four large leeks, thin-sliced, dark green parts discarded
• About 8 oz portabella mushrooms, finely diced
• 10-12 leaves fresh lemon basil
• extra virgin olive oil
• sea salt
• black pepper

Instructions

1. Heat some extra virgin olive oil (to cover pan bottom) in a large saute pan over medium heat. Bruise lemon basil by rubbing it between clean hands (or however you like to do it); toss in the pan. Stir in with the olive oil to flavor the oil well. Cook until leaves are a little brown but not crispy.
2. Put salmon steaks directly into lemon basil olive oil. Pan will be crowded. Don't worry about it. Let the steaks brown very slightly on one side (about a minute). Turn, allow to brown for a minute, then add a quarter bottle of the wine.
3. Turn down the heat and allow the salmon to gently cook through. This takes a little bit, about 15 minutes.
4. Transfer everything in the pan to a stock pot. Add the rest of the bottle of wine. Crush fish a bit without completely destroying it to release some flavor. Allow to cook another 15-20 minutes.
5. Strain fish stock off using a fine mesh strainer, reserving the fish and other solids. If you don't have one of those, a collander lined with cheesecloth works. In case of utter stock-making ghetto-i-tude (i.e., no fine mesh strainer and no cheesecloth), paper towels work for lining the collander, but will absorb some of your fish stock and will also pass the stock very slowly.
6. Back in the stock pot, put the fish stock along with an equal part water, your potatoes, leeks, and portabella mushrooms; allow to cook for an hour on low heat, long enough for potatoes to become tender. (Posterity note that is absolutely not advised: This is the point at which we also added milk. I like milk in my leek/potato soups; it matches well with the mild onion flavors and such. What I had failed to remember is that we had started this culinary adventure with wine, which is acidic enough to (upon addition of heat) make young cheese out of milk. Our milk started foaming after about 30 minutes, and by the time we got the heat turned down, we had a lot of cottage cheese in our pot. I think this soup might well have been very good with paneer in it, but cooking it this way also left all of the whey in our broth, and the cheese was not compact and well-made. We skimmed off and discarded as much as we could.)
7. Season with sea salt and black pepper to taste. Serve with crusty bread - regular old Italian works great.

Sweet Salmon Salad Ingredients

• Salmon steaks left over from leek & potato soup
• Two medium apples, finely diced
• One heart of celery, thin-sliced
• 1 tbsp nutmeg
• 1 tbsp cinnamon
• mayonnaise to prefered texture

Instructions

1. The salmon steaks, after pulled out of their bath of extra virgin olive oil, lemon basil, and white wine, were still delicious-smelling and ready to be used in another recipe, but somewhat unfortunately still full of bones. We washed our hands well and manually deboned the entire mass of salmon. A number of the bones were soft enough that simply amounted to extra calcium, but some were still firm and pokey, so this step was necessary.
2. Mix apples, celery, nutmeg, cinnamon, and a half cup or so of mayonnaise in with the salmon. You will probably need more mayonnaise to acheive a lumpable salad, but mixing in a half cup at first is more manageable.
3. Serve, either on bread or on crackers. We had ours on Olive Oil & Black Pepper Triscuits, which was optimal - the sweet flavors from the apples and celery played very, very nicely with the savory flavors from the cracker. The salmon flavor was present and well-represented without being overpowering.

Having shared both dishes with self-proclaimed foodies, I can confidently say they were good and it's not just me liking my own cooking. Recipes approved for general release. P.S. Go Sox!

I currently have the best job I've ever had in my life, as a teaching assistant in the physics department at the University of Nebraska at Omaha. Twice a week, I give a lecture on basic Newtonian physics (classical mechanics, mostly, plus a smattering of thermodynamics) that runs somewhere between 25 and 40 minutes. Following that, I assist anywhere between one and two dozen students through experiments using the material from my lecture. Each student turns in a writeup on the lab experiment a week later, which I then grade and hand back a week after that. I love my job. I really do! I love teaching, I love helping students, and I love physics at the level I teach. The money's not bad at all, either. But I've also been in a lot of jobs that weren't so great. I spent years in corporate America, where being five minutes later could mean a thirty minute lecture, or not making someone ultimately happy could mean your ass. That sort of experience fosters a sort of unhealthy paranoia and fear that can seriously eat you up. I very highly doubt that corporate life will ever be a direction I pursue again. As an instructive example, a little more than two weeks ago, I overslept my Saturday morning class. I was supposed to be there at 8 o'clock in the morning. At 8:25 a.m., I got a phone call. Me, bleary: ...hello? Student: Uh, where are you? Everybody left. Me, coming to: ...oh, crap! Student: What should I do? It's just me and one other kid here. Me: Uh. Ok, just - you and one other student? Alright. Go home, we'll make up the material next week. I hung up the phone and proceeded to FREAK OUT HARDCORE, as those who were online (or in the address book in my phone and under suspicion of having some sort of applicable wisdom) can tell you. I immediately emailed my boss, and proceeded to bite my nails waiting for repercussions that never came. I never heard back from him about it. Fast-forward to today. I'm talking with the department secretary about an email I sent her. "I haven't gotten anything from you," she tells me. My freakout starts all over again. What if, I hypothesize (as scientists are so good at), my boss never received my email explaining and apologizing for my absence and seeking guidance? If I go and talk to him and he didn't receive it, I look irresponsible and avoidant. If I don't go talk to him and he didn't receive it, he could find out about the debacle from someone else - ever more irresponsible and avoidant. So I go talk to him, stomach in knots. "Boss," I say, inserting his actual name instead of the word, "I'm wondering if you got an email from me about two and a half weeks ago?" He tells me he had, and he respon-- oh, wait, did he respond? He talked to the department head in case there were any students who complained or asked about it. The thrust of the advice - to teach the material even if there wasn't time for the experiment - was exactly how I'd been handling it. "I know how hard it is to wake up and realize you overslept," he said. "I'm not going to beat you up over it. I did appreciate hearing about it right away, though." I thanked him, and went on my way. ...and promptly started crying on the way back to my office. I really hadn't understood just how much stress I was carrying around simply not knowing everything was ok with this job-that-I-love. Neurotic to my last. (P.S. For those who may go :( at this entry, please note that I feel much better now.)

Real-Life Resume Blunders to Avoid: Your resumé is a professional document. Give it the proofreading and editing it deserves. (And incidentally, if you're in the market for such proofreading and editing, I'm your girl. References and rates on request.)

It's a podcast. It's a long podcast. It was actually fun to put together. If you're really not interested in Somalia - stick around past 2:35. The stuff about Somalia is good information, but sort of tangential. Listen to Somalia, College and Snobs [m4a format; iTunes recommended]. Depending on what y'all think of this one, I may or may not do podcasts in the future. Leave comments! (And if you're reading this on LJ, as always, I only see comments on the actual site.)

Review:

• Taking 12 credits this semester, rather than my typical 15-20. Sensible. Sane.
• Teaching two sections of lab. Still sane.
• Was not hired for the position at the new Apple retail store in town.

Given that my schedule this semester has stabilized into something eminently sane, I should actually have some decompression time. So, I have a few goals for this semester:

• School: Finish those labs from last semester. For real. All the way.
• Design: Get the blog redesign project I started done. All the way. It's really mostly done - I just need to convert to templates and make a few more decisions about how to display archives.
• Photo: Take 100 photos per week. I have a camera which it is reasonable to carry around (the Casio EX-S600EO) with a freaking 2GB SD card; I no longer have any excuse not to go crazy with the taking of pictures.
• Photo: Enter at least one contest at DPChallenge per month. (Why not use that for inspiration?)
• Video: Get approved as a video stock contributor at iStockPhoto.
• Writing: Write a substantial piece of short fiction. I'm not talking about serious "literary fiction" - I'm not even sure I know what that means, actually - I just mean something longer than the look-at-me-we-all-have-ADHD flash fiction I can bang out in a single sitting. A plot would be good. Characters required. I'm thinking 3,000-5,000 words. (I just know that if I can get one done, I'll have loosened up the knotty problem of how to turn my ideas into words.)
• Music: Finish one of the songs I have started. I've got about six sitting around, each with about half of the lyrics written, an idea of the melody line for those lyrics... then nothing.

I think the overall idea here is very much like throwing spaghetti at a wall; I want to see what sticks. I do a lot of disparate stuff, and seeing what holds my attention when I genuinely have time for it seems like a good idea. ...and then there's the lab thing, which I threw in there as my own personal guilt-trip. Any thoughts? Things I've mentioned to you or that you (knowing me like you do) think I want to be doing this semester that I've left out? Comment!

At some point last year, Sam and I realized that spending more time together (which we want to do) isn't going to happen if it means doing stuff we don't enjoy much (ick). Fortunately, we both realized that we have stuff that we want to be doing that intersects at least one of the areas the other likes to do already. For example, I have some programming stuff I want to learn and work on, so we picked up these books to get me started:

So, we'll be working on that. We're also going to be getting Sam a camera, as he has an unexplored interest in photography. Here's the package we're looking at:

"Nikon D70S 6.1MP Digital SLR Camera (Body Only)" (Nikon)

"Nikon 70-300mm f/4-5.6G AF Nikkor SLR Camera Lens" (Nikon)

"Tokina 12-24mm f/4 AT-X Pro DX AF Wide Angle Lens for Nikon Digital Cameras" (Tokina)

This is going to be utterly the yay. I can't wait to start working with him.

Visualize a sheet made of rubber, stretched tightly in all directions - flat, smooth, essentially featureless. Now imagine a heavy sphere, like a marble, placed on the sheet. Imagine the smooth, uniform, gradual depression in the sheet, the gentle curve in the material. Juggling this set of images, now add another: another marble, shooting across the surface of the sheet, leaving its own impression on the surface as it moves across. See in your mind this second sphere roll close to the first - just glancing off the very edge of the transformed sheet. Replay this in your head, sending the second marble closer and closer to the first, until the second marble can no longer escape the impression of the first, instead finding a circular path about the first. If in your head, you can conceptually extrapolate this image into three dimensions, you will have a vague picture of our current understanding of gravity; the marbles are massive bodies, like stars and planets, and the sheet is a two-dimensional slice of space-time. Gravity, as we understand it, is a distortion in space-time caused by these massive bodies. A conceptual framework like this is not necessarily a practical or necessary framework for everyday use, though. Einstein's elegant space-time distortion is still taught years after students learn the Newtonian model, because while Newton's model has the fundamental failing that it says nothing about what gravity actually is, it does give a simple mathematical framework for calculating the effects two bodies will have on each other as they pass. The formula essentially says that the magnitude of the gravitational force between two objects is proportional to the mass of both objects, but inversely proportional to the square of the distance they are from each other. The effect is a function of two quantities - the masses - and distance. Both models of gravity tell us that two masses at a sufficient distance from each other will have essentially no effect on each other. They have very little way, even supposing a sudden dose of sentience, of determining that the other even exists. The events required to make these two bodies aware of each other are simple, straightforward, and yet desperately unlikely. The two masses must simply travel close enough to each other to move through the other's sphere of distortion, or sphere of influence. For an orbit to exist, the two must travel close enough for one to become trapped in the circling path about the other. For an orbit to be broken, some external force, strong enough to overcome the distortion, the mutual attraction, must push one object at an appropriate angle, such that it is not simply immediately recaught in a circular path about the first. And if that should happen, freely moving through essentially empty space, the two semi-sentient objects should eventually move out of range such that they are essentially where they began - without knowing that the other truly exists; out of influence range, out of touch. Think about that for a moment. Every single day that we make a phone call, or jump on one of these magic internet boxes, or watch a television show from the other side of the world, we violate in a limited, human way one of the most elegant laws of the universe. When we write a letter, we confirm the continued existence of our mass with one a thousand time smaller than ours. To be human is to have incredible power; the simple facts of our memory and indomitable will allow us to continuously confirm that which we have seen - that which has frightened us, that which inspires us, that which we reject, and most importantly, that which we love. Distance does not equal absence. (Cross-posted from All Write Already. Also, credit is owed to Brian Greene's The Elegant Universe for a good deal of the visualization/metaphor for the physics bits.)

Go watch today's "the show": it's poignant, insightful, and it starts its morning with a bowl of Sugar Tits.

This is not a post about the Dixie Chicks.

* * *

I bought a pair of earrings yesterday - little cubic zirconia studs. I've been wearing them since I got home from that shopping trip. I've been feeling a lot girlier than I have in the past - doing a lot of the lace and lipstick and yes, even the long-resisted jewelry. I'd say that it's almost annoying that feeling feminine is something that can be put on with a few pieces of metal and stone and a swipe of gloss, but that would be disingenuous. It's not as simple or immediate as all that - it's the gradual process, watching daily dress-up sessions change how I perceive myself and how I am most attractive. This is not a post about narcissism.

* * *

It's summer, and I'm through the month or so I had off between the end of spring classes and teaching, plus the first two weeks of the four weeks of physics I'm teaching. I managed to pull decent grades last semester, in spite of succumbing to the temptation to take Way Too Many Credits - again. I think I've learned some valuable study skills in the process. I didn't manage to finish doing my lab write-ups, so I have an incomplete in my lab. I'll finish them over the summer, probably during one of the remaining couple free weeks I have. I'm limiting myself to twelve credits in the fall, because I'm simply not willing to put myself through that kind of unnecessary stress again.

Teaching is going well; I'm pleased with my students, a diligent bunch this semester. I'm also taking a couple of online classes through the community college - black history and human geography. They're both ridiculously non-rigorous and completely insipid, but they both fulfill requirements for graduation, and I save about two thirds off university tuition by taking them at the community college, plus driving money by taking them online.

This is not a post about academics.

* * *

This post is actually about me being really, severely happy. I haven't been posting much, but for once, it's not because I'm stressed out and miserable; it's because life is simply so good that I find myself not wanting to blog much. Hell, I've actually been getting away from the computer altogether. I know, right?

Some of the absolute killer happiness is brought on by the time off. I really needed that month. This makes consecutive semester number seven with me taking at least half-time classes; this summer actually marks my lightest load, as I'm only taking 6 credits, teaching 1.5, and counseling at summer camp for two weeks.

Some of it is love. I'm at various stages of falling-in-love with a few people; Sam and Jess have spoken about this at length, and better than I can (I'm more private about these things than they are, I think; I don't mind them publishing details, but I just don't feel like it), so read them if you want to know what's going on. (The other two people involved may be more private about things than even me, so I'll just leave it at that.) Also in the love genre, Kolya, the youngest of our cats, is finally maturing out of his most kittenish stage, and is given to cuddling much more than usual.

Some of my happiness is coming from a feeling I have of progress and success - those sorts of things. I've been riding a creative wave for the last few months, and I've been doing well in things that I've tried, and that, more than anything, makes me feel fantastic.

That's what this post is about.

* * *

Ok, so this post is going to be a little bit about the Dixie Chicks. They have a relatively new track out called "Not Ready To Make Nice". Let's take a look at it, quick.

Forgive, sounds good Forget, I’m not sure I could They say time heals everything But I’m still waiting I’m through with doubt There’s nothing left for me to figure out I’ve paid a price And I’ll keep paying I’m not ready to make nice I’m not ready to back down I’m still mad as hell and I don’t have time to go round and round and round It’s too late to make it right I probably wouldn’t if I could ‘Cause I’m mad as hell Can’t bring myself to do what it is you think I should I know you said Can’t you just get over it It turned my whole world around And I kind of like it I made my bed and I sleep like a baby With no regrets and I don’t mind sayin’ It’s a sad sad story when a mother will teach her Daughter that she ought to hate a perfect stranger And how in the world can the words that I said Send somebody so over the edge That they’d write me a letter Sayin’ that I better shut up and sing Or my life will be over

...Jesus Christ, where do I start? Here, the beginning. "Forgive - sounds good." Apparently this song is about how the Dixie Chicks want to be forgiven - I'd guess for the whole debacle in which they said on stage that they were ashamed that George W. Bush was from Texas. You know, Dixie* - can I call you Dixie? - I honestly wasn't all that sore about it. I thought it was a little immature and short-sighted of you to say something like that while abroad, and that's in large measure because I recognize the power of celebrity in the world today. When people go to your concerts, they go to listen to you. You have a platform. Having been abroad, I see how people view Americans when one speaks: as a whole. Saying that you're ashamed that the president is from Texas is fine. Saying it in front of someone from another country could well suggest to them that this is an attitude shared by the majority of Americans. I don't care what you think of the president; I'm mature enough to understand that in a country with 295,734,134 people, you're going to have 295,734,134 subtly different opinions. But not everyone gets that, and if I was upset at all, I was upset that you might have given the impression, intentionally or not, that I agreed with you. But your ridiculous attempt at begging for forgiveness, lamenting how awful people have been to you - it just sounds lame. Forgiveness is for when you've done something wrong, and you're sorry, and you want someone to recognize that you're sorry. It's not for when you're mad as hell, for when you don't have time for apologies, for when you can't bring yourself to apologize, or for when you think that all of the wrong that was done, was done to you. Stop asking for forgiveness if you haven't done anything wrong. Stop telling everyone how you refuse to apologize if you want forgiveness. If you'd like some help, here it is:

Dear American who may have been bothered by my statements abroad, I apologize. The sentiment I expressed while overseas was my own, and while the words are no less true than they were when I said them, I understand that not everyone in the U.S.A. feels the same way, and the nature of celebrity is such that I might have given that impression. Whether you agree with what I said or not, I have enough respect for you as a person to not use my stage to speak for you. I hope that you can forgive me, and I hope that the people out there who heard what I said will understand that I am only one of the 295,734,134 citizens of my country. Though I suspect there are others who feel similarly, it is only fair to let them voice such for themselves. Sincerely, Dixie

That I can get behind. I forgive you! See how easy that was? But if you're really not ready to make nice, I bet you'll find that no-one else is, either.

* Yes, I am completely aware that the group known as the Dixie Chicks is comprised of three separate people; I know the history of apologies and retracted apologies and all. This is meant to be a tongue-in-cheek way of respectfully requesting that Maines, Robison and Maguire make up their freakin' minds.

Update, October 29, 2006: I've disabled comments on this post, as I was getting several spam comments per day on just this one. Thanks for understanding.