The Unsubstantial Bubbles Of Citronella

Flip-flops

Citronella — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 16:50:00 -0700

It would be a strong statement to say that I hate flip-flops.

I actually even own a pair of them. Or two, if you count the one that I should have thrown away long ago.

Whereas you'll never see a pair of Ugg boots or leggings in my closet. (Low-rise pants, however, though evil, have become a part in my wardrobe in those dark years when it was the only things you could buy in the stores. Now Maggie Gyllenhaal is wearing pants so high-waisted in The Dark Knight that they double as a bra, and mid-rise to high-rise pants have come back to the stores and there is hope again.)

But I'm not very found of them.

The first problem is the little thingie between your toes. One, it does not suit my toes very well (as my big toes are rather distorted, anything that attract attention upon them is unwelcome). Two, it hurts them. Whether it's cheap plastic or expensive leather, the thingie between the toes (I am sure it has a name, but is it known outside of the closed world of shoe making?) is painful to my delicate little feet appendages. This is why I only wear my flip-flops around the house, where the amount of walking to do is usually rather limited.

The second problem is that 95% of flip-flop wearers wear them sloppily. Flip-flops, somehow, make most people look like they're headed to the beach. How a pair of sandals makes the difference between looking professional enough (I have rather low expectations in terms of professional looks. Remember I am an academic person, not a corporate lawyer) and like you just hopped out of bed is beyond me, but the fact is, it very often does. I've seen people in old jumpsuits and sneakers looking more awake, caring and dressed up than others in neat skirts and flip-flops.

But the worst is without doubt the noise. Oh, the noise. You've heard high-heels on wooden staircases. You've heard wooden clogs in hospital corridors. You've heard metallic heels on an echoing surface. You think you've heard it all. And then come some of the flip-flop wearers, dragging their feet in the most unflattering way – tiny Asian girls are especially good at making more noise with a pair of flip-flops than Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire together with a pair of tap-shoes (each), I noted.

And it just makes me cringe. More, it actually makes me want to walk to the offender, slap them a few times across the face, and ask them if they've ever heard of manners. A bit irrational, maybe. But flip-flops do that to me. No one should be allowed to drag their feet in such a way that you hear them from a block away.

Finishing Sentences

Citronella — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 19:35:00 -0700

There's this meme thingie that has been a lot around the Interwebs lately. You have to finish sentences. It seems appropriate as I have a hard time starting sentences that I can be bothered to finish at the moment. So here we go.

1. My uncle once told me I would like applied sciences better than pure theory. He was right (even though I did not believe it back then).

2. Never in my life have I drunk to the point of forgetting what had happened.

3. When I was five I was a very strange little girl. I had a very abstract mind and my favorite activity was reading; also, I liked adults far better than other children. Oh, and I think it is about that time that I wanted to repair glasses as a career. (I now fail to conciliate that with the abstract mind, but, believe me, nothing was more amusing than geometrical shapes at the time.)

4. High school was the time when things were easy... and a bit flavorless with a tendency to boring.

5. I will never forget how miserable I was before I broke free from the abusive relationship I was in.

6. Once I met a very famous French actor I knew by name but had never seen act (I barely went to the movies as a kid).

7. There’s this boy I know who would definitely have a wonderful girlfriend if only he wasn't so shy.

8. Once, at a bar I witnessed a fist fight that ended when one of the protagonists crashed in the counter mere inches from the drink I was serving.

9. By noon, I’m usually hungry and tired.

10. Last night I managed to go to bed without worrying about the coming week of work, which is rather unlike my usual Sunday nights.

11. If only I had a hammer... no, wait, sorry. Less doubts. Having less doubts would be good. Unless it would make me a righteous, assertive bitch.

12. Next time I go to church will most likely be for someone's wedding or funeral and, in both cases, sharply painful. Did I already tell you that few things creep me out as much as religious service?

13. What worries me most is the idea that people I love might be in hospital when I am unable to go see them because we live one continent and one ocean apart.

14. When I turn my head left I see a picture of me and my dad wearing silly hats in a department store, and three pictures of the Fabulous Feline.

15. When I turn my head right I see, through my window, people having a barbecue.

16. You know I’m lying when I tell you so. Nobody's ever caught me lying since I was nine. Seriously.

17. What I miss most about the Eighties is War Games. War Games is probably the only thing I miss about the Eighties. Do I even remember the Eighties? No, not really. But I love War Games. That's how you know I'm a nerd.

18. If I were a character in Shakespeare I’d be Portia of The Merchant of Venice. Smart and beautiful! (Well, if I had read more than three Shakespeare plays, I would probably be more apt to answer this question. I know it comes as a shock to the English speaking world, but Shakespeare is far from central to literature classes in France.)

19. By this time next year I should be frantically writing my thesis and panicking about what's next. Sweet.

20. A better name for me would be Bubbles, obviously.

21. I have a hard time understanding why women's magazines always sound like the best thing that can happen to us is to get married as soon as possible (finding a husband seems synonymous of finding someone you can tolerate living with) and splurge on hideous but trendy clothes.

22. If I ever go back to school, I’ll... wait, I am in school right now.

23. You know I like you if I act friendly towards you. I'm blunt like that: friendly with people I like and cold with people I dislike.

24. If I ever won an award, the first person I would thank would be the one who is handing it to me, as it would be nice, followed by the people who really helped me getting it (collaborators first, for instance. I hate people who thank their parents before their colleagues at a PhD defense – I'm sure they're awesome and supportive but they didn't get the papers out, did they?)

25. Take my advice, never stay one more second with a man who says he might end up leaving you if you don't lose weight (even more so if he later claims it was only to motivate you). He is a stupid ass and deserves a good lesson.

26. My ideal breakfast is home made yogurt, fresh cut fruits, some kind of breakfast cereals, and a cup of strong, black coffee.

27. A song I love but do not have is an aberration. I own all the songs I love. Oh, except for Blue Suede Shoes. (Yes, I enjoy a little Elvis here and there.)

28. If you visit my hometown, I suggest you better your French. It is not the kind of place where people are very good at English, typically. Oh, and also, take a good book. A thick one. You might need it.

29. Why won’t people just take enough care of their kids to prevent them from screaming on top of their lungs all afternoon long?

30. If you spend a night at my house and that you're my guest, I'll make you a nice breakfast in the morning, but you'd better close the lid of the toilets after using them. Otherwise, just expect to get the cold stare of death in the morning if you haven't closed the toilets lid.

31. I’d stop my wedding for running away before it is too late.

32. The world could do without Ugg boots, low waist pants, leggings and fake breasts. Honestly.

33. I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than eat it. Yuck.

34. My favorite blondie is the Fabulous Feline, of course.

35. Paper clips are more useful than self-help books, which are bloody useless.

36. If I do anything well it’s acting weird. Yessir.

37. I can’t help but wonder at stupidity. I spend a lot of time pondering whether or not I am a pretentious snob, and whether or not most people are, indeed, painfully stupid.

38. I usually cry a lot, but rarely in front of anybody else than my boyfriend.

39. My advice to my nephew/niece, if I had any, which is not likely too happen any time soon due to an inconvenient lack of brothers or sisters, would be to be wary of anybody who cannot justify what they want you to do further than by "it's for your own good". (To this date, it is the best piece of advice I have received from my own mother.)

40. And by the way, bubbles are beautiful.

Sad Times

Citronella — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 12:33:00 -0700

The Fabulous Feline's company, not having met its previsions last quarter, has just laid off a bunch of people. Some of them, he said, were obviously the first ones in line for this kind of treatment. Others were not.

As, for instance, the senior engineers and developers who, as far as he knows, were the only ones to have the answers to some of the questions he constantly asks.

Or as his own manager, who had just hired three people, formed a new team and got an exciting project going. As the others, he was told on a gloomy Monday morning, without any kind of forewarning (actually, a week from then, the company still seemed to be throwing money through the windows for getting always newer equipment and the last in technologies), that this was his last day and he had until 5pm to pack. "The guy was devastated," the Feline added. Who wouldn't be?

I have no doubt that people high-up had good reasons to decide to fire people and chose to get rid of these particular ones.

But the whole week has been very hectic, the Feline tells me. Logistics are heavily perturbed, teams have been moved around, people do not know who to refer to anymore nor who has the answers to their questions, and everybody fears for their own ass while trying to hide how relieved they are not the ones to have been canned and wondering how badly will the shareholders freak out.

"I have no idea how we are ever going to finish the projects on time now," Simon concluded. "And I had to have a plain bagel because they did not have cranberry ones this morning!"

Life Goes On

Citronella — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 21:48:00 -0700

Nance is back on the East coast, and just starting her PhD. The situation is clearly not becoming Tom, who between the physical tiredness (he helped her move) and the emotional one (you've got to love long distance relationships) looks in a worse shape than in the first few weeks when he stopped smoking. He'll need to sort things out.

Benjamin is in Sweden for a couple months, having found an internship to keep himself busy before the beginning of his PhD. He was complaining to me of the cloudy skies, rain, and cool wind. So now I want him to write a book entitled Bon baisers de ... — where "..." would be the name of the city where he is now, which I will not write down, even though it sounds really better with this name in, for anonymity reasons. The title wouldn't translate, as it sounds cooler in French than From ... with Love; of course it would be a spies story in the style of John Le Carré ("But how could I write a book that I only half understand myself?", he asked — it's easy enough when you've done a bit of scientific publication, I think). There would be a self-effacing, somewhat coward and nervous spy ("Imagine Peter Sellers for the role," I wrote); a couple fascinating, efficient, mysterious women; some grisly, inventive murders; a heinous Russian who'd only appreciate the company of cats ("But the only Russian I really know is the nicest guy on Earth", I added thoughtfully. "Cover, obviously," Ben replied); and the skies would be cloudy and the wind too cool. "Why don't you write it yourself, then?", he asked. "Because I don't have time! Obviously." I replied. Then I thought about a sitcom Amy wrote a while back and I smiled.

I am still working on my paper, producing some additional results, but nothing so major that I haven't moved on something new: a project that, with a deadline mid-September, works out as a perfect summer assignment. It's one of these all-or-nothing (I was going to say "high risk, high reward", but as I am only devoting half a dozen weeks to it, I think the risk is rather moderate) type of work, which is probably why Graduate Advisor decided that I was to do it on my own rather than use it to train a new student on a particular technique. I'm rather excited by it, actually! But between the hard deadline, the last revisions to the paper, and the technical project for which an insufferable amount of tedious tasks need to be performed, I'm afraid it is going to be Fall and time to TA again before I even realize it.

The Fabulous Feline is, I believe, pleased with his new job. He pretty much got to define what he is going to do, which ensures that it will be somewhat exciting. He is slowly getting used to the idea of not being a student nor a struggling entrepreneur anymore, and making plans to take me out with stars in his eyes. I have been the one taking him out more often than not lately and that hurts his (patriarchal) feelings a little bit. I, myself, couldn't care less. The relief of having found a good position is obvious, and he is more relaxed, more considerate, and more charming than ever.

On the other hand, I'm afraid it is soon going to be time for him to look for The One, the woman he will want to live with, marry, and have children with. I have already said that this woman is not me, and that neither is he the man I want to live with and make the father of my children (marriage being an entirely different question already, as I have very little use for it. I am not against marriage in general, and if it holds a meaning for you, I totally understand that you go for it; however, it is not what I want for myself and I expect you to respect my choice too. I am used to trigger indignant comments when stating my views about the subject, especially among American people who seem to have more faith in marriage than Frenchmen, but please, don't see it as a provocation). I have also written that this do not mean that we don't have a sweet, lovely, tender, amorous relationship, only that we know it is bound to come to an end sooner than later, as we have no desire to pursue it in the long term. I know this statement, too, can bring on incredulous reactions, and I have been considered a liar or a slut for daring to make it, but I do not really care anymore. Having a good couple relationship does not mean that we would make for a good family, and I am grateful we realize that fully before committing each other to a whirlwind of bitter disappointment. I am not saying, however, that this is a desirable situation, and I am very scared indeed at the idea that he will be ready to move on before I am ready to let him go.

"Maybe it is time for you to start looking for her," I said as a conclusion of a conversation we had about finding the woman (or man) of your life. "How can you be sure she is The One?", he had asked, and I had offered a variety of answers, from "You cannot be sure" to "If she is you will know it", including "I don't believe there is a single Perfect One for every one of us; rather, there is a set of people with whom you can make it work; and if you know you can make it work and you want to make it work then I believe she will be the one.", all while thinking that chances were I would remember this conversation ten years from now and cringe at the immature foolishness of it all, like I now do with ideas I had a few years back on these issues.

"But I don't want to," he replied in his little boy voice. "I don't want to lose you yet," I said, a tear rolling on my cheek. He took me in his arms and hold me very tight, stroking my hair and naked skin until I smiled again.

I hope that, when time comes, he'll find her.

Speaking French

Citronella — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 14:43:00 -0700

Remember when my French labmate went back to Paris and I felt sad at the idea that I wouldn't be able to casually speak French directly to anybody anymore?

We have a new post-doc, and he is French. He even comes from the same area as me. So I have someone to speak French to!

And as his English is still rather unpolished, we only speak in French. It's probably not the best for the development of his skills, going through laborious conversations when you can just speak another language and get done with it is too painful for little impatient me; plus it makes me feel patronizing and which I hate. So French I speak.

But I'm actually annoyed. He suffers from the frustrations that inescapably stem from being faced with another culture, which I obviously understand very well ("why can't they do things like at home?" was probably the sentence I thought the most in my first few weeks in the US); but I am starting to be fed up with the incessant complaining he does.

I know you have to go to one place for food and another one for household items, for there isn't really any big supermarket that offers a large choice in both kind of goods. I know the public transportation system is a sore pain. I know you don't write the date in the same order. It's tiring, and it makes everyday simple tasks way harder than they used to be. But the best you can do? Relax, breathe in, and accept that the system is different. You don't need to like it better than what you know; you just need to take it easy and go with the flow...

And.

Don't fucking come complaining to me that the way we work is crappy.

You are joining a team; it's your job to adapt, not ours. Not that you cannot suggest way of making things differently. But please, give the system a try first.

You don't like using your crappy desktop only as a terminal to log on to more powerful units? Well run things locally on it, nobody is trying to prevent you from doing that, but don't come whining that it takes forever and crashes your weak system. You don't like that Graduate Advisor has many, many people under his supervision, and that it means that the PhD students have to be autonomous instead of accounting for every single one of their days like you did during your own PhD? Well maybe that was something to find out before you decided to come here.

Moreover, we've spent a lot of time making this lab a better place to work in, and I am proud of having be part of the process that allowed for good, friendly work conditions that made everybody's research more efficient. You don't like that we are free to come in whenever we want to, to take it easier during the summer, and to work from home, as long as results are produced? But nobody prevents you from setting your own times; and if you want to come 8 to 5 every day of the week, feel free to do so, I guarantee you that, once everybody will be back from their summer breaks and relaxed schedules, you'll be bound to see everybody at one time or the other, because having no set rules doesn't mean that we're going lose. You don't like that we have what you call "useless" guidelines for code and knowledge maintenance? Well I'd like to give you one of my projects in the state in which it has originally been passed to me by Dr. Asymmetric before we decided to implement these guidelines, and see if you can figure it out by yourself. You're joining a team, remember, with which you'll work for about a year; don't you think you're also supposed to let people take over once you're gone? You don't like that there is a big weekly meeting in which some people are bound to talk about projects you have no hand in? Don't you really have any ounce of scientific interest for what other members of your lab are doing, really?

See, I value your opinion. What I want here is for all of us to work in the best possible conditions. I want people to be motivated, I want people to have as much help as they need, I want people to be able to pop out of their office and find someone they can ask for a tip, I want people to have the opportunity to go out for lunch together. What I don't want is someone who, rich with his experience of one single lab with totally different dynamics, comes here and declares that it sucks. So may I kindly suggest, and please don't see any hard feelings in it, that you just go fuck yourself for a while and come back with constructive criticism once you've calmed down?