Five or six years later...

I have a complete knitted eyelet washcloth! It only took since sophomore or junior year of college to finish, so in honor of its completion (or in an ironically appropriate coincidence) I'm wearing my Brown t-shirt today.

This cute little washcloth is for-dummies easy to knit and should have taken me a week or two at normal knitting rates. For some reason, though, I took a four year hiatus and just picked it up after finishing my hat a few weeks ago. In all that time, my knitting technique has changed quite a bit. The bottom corner that I started as a 19- or 20-year-old (yikes, that sounds young!) was knit so tightly that I couldn't feasibly continue, knowing that eventually I would have to knit two stitches together to decrease. The cast-on also looks a little weird, and just to assure myself that it shouldn't have looked like that, I cast on another.

Five or six years from now, I should have a matched set!

(P.S. Fellow Mac laptop users may appreciate this: When I post photos of myself, they are generally taken using Photo Booth. I initially did that for this post, too, only to upload the photo and realize that of course the lettering on my shirt was backwards--the trademark Photo Booth mirror image. Time to break out the real camera after all!) 

The New Roommate

And, no, I don't mean Pat, Hallie's summer subletter. I mean Pat's TV!

New Roommate is as wide as I am tall, probably weighs as much as I do, and takes up more space (although it comes with admittedly less stuff than I have). See Hallie's TV in the corner? It looks positively puny next to New Roommate.

I'm pretty intimidated by this addition to our apartment. When I turn on the television, it's usually to have something playing in the background while eating dinner, knitting, paying bills, etc. Also, I tend to watch my favorite, "quality" shows on the internet where there are fewer commercials and the ability to pause, so inevitably when I watch TV, it's for a mindless guilty-pleasure like Say Yes to the Dress, the Food Network, or old chick flicks. Watching shows like that on a larger-than-life screen just seems silly! (And I would really rather not feel judged by my appliances.)

That said, it would be pretty fun to see the Wolverines beat Ohio State on a screen that big. Too bad Pat and his TV will be gone by September.

A sad side effect of the addition of the TV is that it has temporarily and necessarily relocated our table and chairs to in front of the windows. I miss the view from the couch of my windowsill "garden," plus my small-as-a-giant-TV self can hardly reach across the table to water my plants.

Although the television is a beauty, I am intimidated. It's like a black hole taking over the living room. It's big enough to beat me up. Its blank, black face makes me feel like I'm staring into the abyss of a dark canyon. I give it a wary glance every time I walk past, as if saying "I'm watching you. You judge me, and I'll make sure you know exactly who pays your electricity bill."

A Whale of a Tale

For the past two weeks, it has rained religiously on weekdays. Monday through Thursday or Friday: it pours; it's gray; it's cold. Saturday and Sunday: hot and sunny. Not a bad deal if you're stuck in an office anyway, but it sure was nerve-wracking these last couple weeks. And that was because I had very important outdoor weekend plans.

Way back in the fall, I had purchased a Groupon for whale-watching through the New England Aquarium. I've never seen a whale in real life before, and the deal was far too good to pass up. So I had two tickets, and I waited until just about the expiration date to redeem them in hopes of being as close to peak whale watching season as possible. With reservations made, all I could do was watch the weather forecast and hope that whales felt like coming to Massachusetts Bay. Although the forecast consistently showed the weekend as being 80 degrees and sunny, I almost didn't believe it after four straight days of 60-degree rain.

The weekend was perfect, though. Sure enough, the rain stopped Friday morning and the sun came out just as Colin's bus arrived from New Haven. On Saturday morning, we got up, packed snacks, jackets, and water, and donned our sunglasses and sunscreen (or so I thought; turns out, I had bought the wrong kind of face moisturizer that, unbeknownst to me, did not contain sunscreen. I figured it out the next day when my face was red and sore). We had no trouble picking up our tickets, but boy were we glad I had made reservations! In the beautiful weather, everyone seemed to want to go whale watching.

Despite the hot weather in Boston, it was fairly arctic on the water. The wind was incredible, and I was wishing I had brought more jacket than just my fleece. On top of that, the little "three-foot" swell the director of the ship had mentioned rocked our large, three-level catamaran like a roller coaster. Colin and I had opted to stake out a spot near the railing on the lowest level, hoping for an eye-to-eye view of the whales, and were informed that people on the first level also would feel the least motion of the seas. Probably true, but I hate to think what those on the top level were experiencing! There were tons of kids on the deck with us, and they shrieked and howled every time the boat pitched forward over a wave, dropping our stomachs into our toenails. Good thing neither of us are prone to seasickness! Some other people weren't looking so happy by the time we finally reached our destination an hour later.

Our destination was the Stellwagen National Marine Sanctuary. While there is no guarantee of seeing whales (although you'll get a raincheck ticket for another day if your crew can't find any), the sanctuary is a pretty good place to look. Sure enough, after riding for about an hour to the southern end of the Stellwagen Bank, we started seeing bursts of spray off in the distance. Actually, Colin saw them really early, long before I did. Maybe he learned wildlife-spotting as part of his degree in ecology, or maybe standing a foot taller than me allows him to see a couple miles farther.

And that was it: whales! We saw a ton of whales--probably ten or fifteen humpacks, plus a Minke and a dolphin that I never was sure I actually saw, plus three gazillion seagulls. I was fascinated. Whale watching is a little weird, though, because you don't actually see much of the whales. They don't look so big when you can only see a tail here and a lump of back here. But once we saw a whale flop onto its back and splash its fins about, and boy, was it large!

Whales are pretty awesome. I learned tons. Did you know that humpbacks often feed in pairs or trios by blowing bubbles underneath the fish to drive them to the surface, then the whale zooms vertically upward to the surface with its mouth open, catching all the fish in its way? They sometimes stick their mouths above the sea surface to drain out some of the water - called "open mouth feeding." And humpbacks have snow-white fins that look turquoise when underwater. And Minkes are apparently the "runts" of the whale family, zipping about to and fro ("zipping" is all relative when you're a whale). 

All in all, a wonderful day. As we were on the dock waiting for our boat to arrive, Colin said, "I really hope we see humpbacks today! I've never seen a humpback!" and I said, "I just really really want to see a whale." Both came true. We're pretty lucky. :)

To top off the day, we walked through the aquarium to see smaller marine wildlife -alas, the sharks had been moved for maintenance; it would've been asking too much to see both giant mammals and giant fish in one day - and rested our footsore, wind-blown selves in the shade by the Charles River. (Ironically, I was the only sunburned one. We had just talked that morning about how Colin better slather himself with sunscreen but that with my skin tone, I didn't need to worry as much.) Finally, for a perfect ending to a perfect day, we met my friends for dinner at a vegetarian diner (don't laugh--it's delicious). It was delicious. And I ate enough to feed a whale. 

Without further ado, the photos:

Prepping for the trip while waiting for our boat to arrive! While Colin readies his camera, I cross my fingers that some whales are hoping to go human-watching today.

And we're off! The inner harbor is busy on this first sunny day in a week.

Boston looks a lot prettier from the water. I like the skyline.

We're excited to be out on the water, but we're still an hour away from seeing whales.

Bye bye, Boston! We're now leaving the outer harbor.

It's a humpback!! Welcome to the Stellwagen National Marine Sanctuary. The light turquoise patch near its body is its snow-white fin.

That fluke is probably Claire-sized.

I couldn't zoom in far enough, but that's the whale's mouth. The seagulls flock to the whales and try to steal the fish as the whales drive them to the surface. Sometimes it even looks like the gulls try to steal fish from the whale's mouth. I wonder if the whales ever accidentally eat seagulls?

Thar she blows!

And thar she goes.

Happy! My dream to see whales came true. And Colin's dream to see humpback whales came true.

So many boats on the harbor were taking advantage of the beautiful day.

Voyager III, the catamaran that turned 3-foot seas into a roller coaster ride.

Back on solid ground, but not ready to leave the water. We stopped for a snack on the pier.

Then, to commune with smaller marine animals, we stopped in the aquarium.

This big ole fellow doesn't look quite so impressive after seeing whales.

The seals were pretty sleepy, but still adorable.

This seal's rockin' a mohawk.

Another species with carefully styled hair.

I love this fish coming right at us with his big googly eye! What are YOU looking at?!

After an incredible four hour tour, we're sunburned, wind-battered, and ready to flop barefoot in the shady grass.

 And as a teaser for another outdoor adventure post, we stopped by the Charles River on our way home to rest our feet in the shade and watch the boats sail by...

Odd

I was just now cleaning up my room, and I realized something very odd about myself. I have an extremely hard time recycling boxes. It doesn't matter what size or shape: shoe boxes, small flat-rate mailing boxes, large flat boxes from clothing purchases. If they're in good condition, I keep them all.

I think maybe this is a result of my being a young twenty-something still moving around and figuring out my life. Since leaving St. Louis seven years ago, I have never lived in the same place for more than two years. Even here in Boston, I know that I will have to move in a maximum of three years because my roommate will graduate from law school and I won't be able to afford to stay in our apartment. So I hoard boxes, and I look forward to the day when I will either: (1) have a basement that I can devote to box storage, or (2) figure that I'm settled for good and can just recycle them all. In the meantime, I'm running out of room underneath my bed.

How to not let your job make you fat

Fascinating.

We hear so much about how our jobs are killing us, and that people who sit for more than eight or nine hours a day (isn't that most of the labor force nowadays?) are at severely increased risk for just about everything. It's terrifying. It's enough to make one want to quit one's job and move to Europe, where good-health-promoting things like afternoon siestas and 35-hour work weeks are engrained in the culture. Goodness knows I sit for at least nine hours every day Monday through Friday--and that doesn't count me flopping on the couch when I get home!

[As a side note, I love that it now stays light for an hour or more after I get home from work. I've actually had the time and energy to go for a short run a couple evenings a week when it's not raining! Gosh, if only I lived somewhere warm and sunny year round... think how fit I'd be!]

I was relieved, then, to find this podcast from NPR and Gretchen Reynolds, whose wellness blogs I often read on the New York Times. Finally someone was offering practical suggestions for those of us tied to our (non-standing) desks for more than 40 billable hours a week! Standing up for two minutes out of every twenty will be a challenge, if for no other reason than it disrupts my train of thought and makes it harder to see the computer screen, but it's way more manageable than things like taking a walk or a run during lunch (particularly when all your clients are in California... sigh... and they don't even come into work until your lunchtime). I liked her suggestion of standing up to answer calls, although--and I'm not complaining--people don't call me very often. Anyway, good, practical suggestions for staying healthy while staying employed in good ole America.

Thanks, NPR!

But I'd still appreciate institutionalized siestas and 35-hour work weeks.

They will change the world

I love working on really cool projects (that also happen to be really fun) for really important people (who also happen to be really nice). Today was one of those days when I felt so important by association. 

I had just settled down at my desk, wondering what task to tackle first on this sort of slow day, when the principal that I would love to work for, Jim, stopped by. I've tried to convince everyone that I should work for him since pretty much Day 1, but so far it hasn't stuck. I'm told that "I have fans" and my current supervisors don't want to give me up. That's nice. :) But it hasn't made it easy to transition onto his projects. So, he stops by and immediately starts asking about the photos on my cubicle wall. I point out a couple from Botswana, several from the Gulf of Mexico, and one of my dog Maizie (who he says is adorable - or something along those lines; I don't remember, but probably he didn't use the word "adorable"). At that point, I realize that only two people have commented on my photos since I started ten months ago, and anyone who says my dog is sweet-looking has already won me over. He also comments that I have traveled to some pretty cool places (this from the guy whose job takes him to Azerbaijan and Zimbabwe and everywhere in between).

Then he asks me to help with a small task. After he spent five minutes complimenting my dog and my travels, I would have agreed to almost anything, but honestly, I was sold from the minute he said hello. It didn't matter how busy I was with other work--to work on his projects, I would work overtime.

The project I was helping with, as it turns out, had a lofty goal. Jim had been selected as a lead author of the sea level rise analysis for the 2013 National Climate Assessment and I would be helping him with a small piece of that. And, while Google searching his role, I realized that the earlier version of this report, back in 2000, was directed by Rosina Bierbaum, the former dean of SNRE for whom I worked last year (and one of 21 current science & technology advisors to President Obama). She is now a Convening Lead Author (more important than just "Lead Author," apparently) for the climate adaptation portion of the 2013 report.

I am totally floored. I work for such impressive people, and they will change the world! If anyone can set the path towards a more sustainable, more equitable future, it's Rosina. And an accomplished principal who can take a few minutes from his busy day to comment on a young associate's photos deserves the support of communities across the world. And since I helped teach Rosina's class and contribute analysis to Jim's work, that makes me important by association, right? Twenty years from now, maybe I'll be on the next generation's list of impressive people as well!

Now that it's May...

I'm ready for summer vacation!!

Oh wait. Now that I have a job, I don't get one. I guess the weekend will have to do.

Happy almost Friday and almost Cinco de Mayo! May you all have tacos, guacamole, or margaritas to celebrate and then go out salsa dancing.