Editorial blues

I'm about two-thirds of the way through editing a friend's application essay for one of those undergrad summer research programs. This is a very bright (and much more hardworking than me) kid who's been doing research since like her freshman year or something; she might even be going to Antarctica next winter (!); one of my sister's best friends. Two more essays to look at after this, for a feminist webzine that another friend and some other young Malaysian women are starting up, aimed at our demographic.

I got these essays in my inbox several days ago, but I'm only going over them now. Know why? I don't like editing *sigh*. I have much more sympathy now for the teachers we used to whine about in school when they didn't return our exam papers on time. It's not that I don't enjoy reading my friends' writing. Just that having to gramatically fine-tooth comb* a piece of writing, pick apart the organization, fuss about the style, and above all make negative comments on it is highly tedious and makes me feel like I'm being a mean person. No matter how many times a person says "Go ahead and kutuk my writing as much as you like, I need to know my faults," you know that it's still going to hurt them when you do, from the subjective experience of being on the receiving end. (NB: You guys know who you are; by no means am I saying I'm mad at you or "don't send me any more stuff". You people and your projects are close to my heart, so I want to help as much as possible.)

This is something that I haven't given much thought to before, but helping other people work with language, in addition to becoming a writer myself, is a vocation. In secondary school I'd frequently get requests of "Hwa, can you correct my composition?" and it got wearing, especially when I discovered that some of the girls asking for help were bitches who called me a weirdo behind my back (not that I'm not both a weirdo and a bitch, but I abhor backstabbing). Nevertheless, the ability to explain, clarify, and teach still provided a great deal of satisfaction, especially since by upper secondary I'd outgrown the childish idea that having the luck of having been born into a literate family made me intrinsincally superior. If you live in a little village and win the lottery, you can't not share it (see Waking Ned Devine, btw; it's a great movie).

Infectious disease research intern by day, amateur editor, writer, and artist by night...I'm turning into a real Renaissance man =P Or maybe just turning into a insane bundle of ambition going nowhere.

*this phrase is "fine-tooth comb", in the sense of one of those wooden combs for removing kutu, not "fine tooth-comb", for heaven's sake. what sort of siao eh lang would try to comb their teeth?

new and improved font

I made the words in the blog column bigger by removing the thing that said "font-size:85%" in the template. Haisyo. I keep telling myself, when the Philippines art project is over I'm going to sit down and completely redesign my blog. And learn how to use CSS properly, dammit.

Bring it!

Just got vaccinated against smallpox about 45 minutes ago, for my job. Unlike other vaccinations where you get a subcutaneous injection, this one was literally a "jab" (as Malaysians like to call injections). They take a bifurcated needle that looks lke a little fork and go pokepokepokepokepoke 15 times =P

Apparently it - the smallpox vaccine is the live vaccinia virus, the cause of cowpox - can make some quite nasty pustules on other parts of your body if you're not careful about not touching the lesion, being careful where you put your hands after changing the bandage, etc.

I hope the lesion doesn't last a long time. It's supposed to take about 3 weeks to scab and fall off - which is what they told me back in Standard 6 when I got the BCG at school (mass vaccination of schoolchildren is standard practice in a number of developing countries konon; not just Malaysia) and then it took three freaking months. Then again, that could have been my fault since being Miss Itchy Fingers, I kept picking at the scab and went swimming in the sea during a church camp.

On top of all the regular childhood stuff I've also been vaxed against Japanese encephalitis, typhoid, Hepatitis A, and rabies last spring in preparation for going to the Philippines. I have quite the l33t imm00n system now. ^_^

CWD Necropsies: Day 1

I spent about 5 1/2 hours today stuffing bits of dead deer nerve, muscle, and tongue into little plastic bags. We started around 3:45, had a short dinner break close to 8pm, and it was almost 10 when we finished. My only complaint about it is that my back hurts.

Signs I have incorrigibly set my feet on the road to becoming a career biologist:

• Can listen to a 15-minute conversation about the right way to cut off a head without thinking it either grotesque or particularly funny.
• Can spend hours bathing in blood, eat a hearty dinner, and go back to bathing in blood.

My boss volunteered me for this, by the way. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Okay, it's a good thing, but my back still hurts.

Muslim Men for Gender Equality: Islamic Family Laws Petition

Got an email from my cousin Jemufo (she's at Bates College, ex Seremban, ex Sitiawan) about a petition against the previously mentioned Islamic Family Law (Federal Territories). If you're Malaysian, go sign it. If you're not Malaysian, just read it anyway but don't bother signing.

Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo

Check this out:

And to think that a few weeks ago I was kidding that if our -20C incubators failed, we could put the frozen samples outside.

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...

Very Important Pants on fire

In an article in today's Star about the Islamic Family Law Act being put on hold by the Cabinet:

“The Cabinet takes the objections from the women seriously. Therefore, we really have to look at their views thoroughly, so, eventually, when we amend the Act, women will not feel discriminated against.” - Datuk Seri Nazri Aziz, Minister in the Prime Minister's department.

And this is the guy who said three weeks ago that

“They are free to debate and speak their mind, but when it comes to a vote, they have to follow,”

when invoking the Whip to make Barisan's female senators vote for it.

I've got one word for this guy: BASTARD!

This government doesn't listen to the people until the outcry becomes overwhelming.

pwnage!

These are a few recent examples of how I'm a total weirdo:

At office Christmas party:

Judy: My brother got one of those turkey deep-fryers last year, and my sister-in-law was sad because the weather was so cold, so they couldn't put it outside. [to use]
Kim: Those things cook the turkey so fast, it's amazing. It cooks faster than in an oven.
me: I wonder if it's because the oil provides better thermal coupling between the turkey and the heating element.
Judy: [stares] Okay, now you're getting way too geeky for us.
In my defense, I'd been reading a manual on PCR in lab recently... (13MB movie of a deep-fryer on fire here, btw.)

At the International Fellowship party Wednesday night, at the end of a Monopoly game:

Steve: I have $1200.
me: Seventeen-ninety, eighteen-ten...I have $1850. I just pwned you.
Steve: [cracks up laughing] I can't believe you just said that!
me: Well, I have a younger brother who taught me how to play DotA this summer.
And this is the guy who asked if I've ever been to a LAN party and offered to teach me how to play Axis and Allies, mind.

With boyfriend:

Any time we're in the middle of making out passionately and one of us breaks off to talk about science, politics, philosophy, or cartoons; i.e., fairly often.

i don't have all the answers - ain't gonna pretend that i do

On the way back from Appleton (tumpang-ed with AT for Christmas week) I had a 1:35 layover in Milwaukee (these Americans never heard of express bus is it?), so I went window shopping (with two enormous backpacks, sial). I wasn't planning to buy anything, but there was a second-hand record shop in the big mall, so I looked in. Fortuitiously - they had the Lifehouse CD I've been looking for for ages. (Geez. It's got five full stars on Amazon.)

One thing about this album is that it's a great illustration of the idea that we live by "faith, not sight". Other than the music, another reason for its popularity is that it expresses so perfectly the ambiguity that thinking Christians find themselves caught up in. We believe, and we reason, but reason alone isn't enough to hold up what we believe in, and we're trying to understand if this is satisfactory/if there's a way to make it work better/if we're turning into heretics/if this is what faith means. "Trying" is one song that I hadn't heard on the radio or downloaded before, and I love it.

...
Honesty is a hard attribute to find
When we all want to seem like we've got it all figured out
Let me be the first to say that I don't have a clue
I don't have all the answers
Ain't gonna pretend like I do, just
Trying to find my way
Trying to find my way the best that I know how

Well I haven't memorized all of the cute things to say
But I'm working on it
Maybe I'll master this artform someday
If I quote all the lines off the top of my head
Would you believe
That I fully understand all these things I've read?
I'm just trying to find my way
...

Sometimes you get caught up in the crossfire between a bunch of different arguments, and it drives you crazy, and it hurts so much and you feel like you're gasping for clarity like oxygen. It's desolation. Then you read or hear or see something that tells you that you're not alone, that you're part of a body that's struggling together to deal with this, figure it out, and in that, you find comfort. To quote a Garth Hewitt song that I can't remember the name of:

I shall fall
into the arms
of a loving God
Herein is peace
herein is peace
it is enough.

Wow. I think I'm addicted.