Recent Sanjida Events

January 1, 2002

Wow. I'll be 22 this year (and I just turned 21 yesterday. Gotta love that new years eve bday..). I didnt have a party. too many peopel were out of town, and out of a favor to my mom, I thought I'd make it a family night. So, my family and I went out to eat at Bravo! and afterwards watched Shrek on teh bigscreen at home. To welcome teh new year, i found Jupiter and Saturn in teh sky overhead outside in my front yard. The ball was just too much hype for me. I love new york, but seriuosly, theres planets in teh sky that are not always visible.. versus a bunch of lightbulbs? Please...! such an easy decision! it was also really cool to be outside just after midnight, instead of by teh TV. you could hear the screaming in everyoens houses, and the noisemakers and fireworks and stuff...what a celebration! Why sit on the couch at home? For my birthday, I had a piece of tiramisu with one candle in it. No one felt like buying or making a cake, and I dont even like cake all that much, so piya arranged to get me tiramisu at Bravo! and my family gave me a hopeless rendition of happy birthday at the dinner table. hey, at least I got Calamari fritti earlier on. YUM!:)
ANYWAZ. So many thoughts I have been meaning to jot down ?I got back into my journal-ing. It has definitely been a missing love in my life. I hope to write a lot before I go back to school: poetry, fiction, inspiration, whatever I can get my mind to churn out. There were some initial plans to possibly go to NYC this week, but I don't know if that's working out or not.

So I was thinking about something recently?it's a helpless and haughty thought I assure you? but I will share?."a twist of fate and I would have been raised on the rice paddies of a Bengal village." Actually, that would be kind of beautiful I think? I've seen the village, and its so serene and innocent! At least it was in 1989?yes its true, I have neglected the homeland for over 12 years now. I really haven't had much say in the decision making process. Three years ago I wanted to go back to visit, after I graduated. It didn't happen due to family issues. Since then my own dream has been to go make umrah with my family and go to Bangladesh for a month or so. Problem is, the political condition of Bangladesh is awful. Hartal (strikes, which often become very violent) are all over the country... roads, even cities, are closed for them. Mafia-style crime is rampant as well, in addition extreme Islam is rising. At this point, it is literally life-threatening for a woman to travel the streets alone. And yet, I look back to racing my 4 yr old brother to the nearest vendor to buy a Fanta and some "chanachur" with the allowance my grandfather gave us (when I was 6). I never did take the time to know my grandfather on my dads side (Dadu) very well, I was too young to understand, but I do remember how much he loved us. He cherished me particularly because I was his first grandchild. Wrote me a song for my aqiqah, which was held belated in Bangladesh (perhaps so my dadu could attend), that all my relatives sang to me.
My most precious memory though is a simple letter. My dadu wrote me a letter at the end of January 1991 (I was 10). He asked me why I hadn't written to him, how he was getting old and would be leaving the world soon, that the sound of my voice (specifically, when I spoke English), was like music to his ears, that grandchildren and grandparents historically are best friends, but I hadn't kept up my end of the deal. Within three weeks, he died of a stroke, inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi rajiun. It was my grandfather's last letter.
Looking back, I don't know if there was anything else I could do to heal. My dad was stationed away from home during the Gulf war (Army medical reserve). I missed him so much, and I was helping my mom with the "new baby" (Piya) and my two younger sibs. At school, my teacher would take extra time with me to talk about the war going on, how I felt, I would write letters to Saratoga soldiers (the Saratoga was the ship that sank a couple of years later) with my class, because my teacher's son was on it too, I still have all the pictures of soldiers and American flags and peace signs that I would sit and draw with my brother (and then ask my mom to choose which was "best".. of course, we both were..;P). I regretfully think, because my Dadu had passed away far from home, and I hadn't been there to see it, and my dad was also away from home, and I wasn't seeing his pain, I moved away from the sad news terribly quickly. For a 10 yr old, perhaps that was best, the Qadr of Allah. Once, about 2 years ago, when I was very sick, I saw Dadu in a dream, with my boro chacha (who was killed in the 1971 war) and they were telling me some beautiful comforting things. The words themselves, I don't remember specifically. But still, I'll treasure that too. I do hope to see them again inshAllah One Day.
Oh yes, Bangladesh, when I arrived there at age 6 with my parents and brother (sister number one was still in Mom's tummy), we got off the plane, walked down the stairs (there was no walkway) and were immediately surrounded by a crowd of people, the beggars. "Paisa den bhai.." (please give some coins). My brother and I were frightened at the grabbing hands, the thinness, the shouting and pushing. My dad pulled out his change, American coins because he had not yet exchanged it for Bengali currency. One woman picked up a dime, and then put it down in preference for a penny, which was larger and a different color? by that point we understood what was happening and my brother and I tried to yell at her to come back "Hey, that's just a penny! Take a dime!" But she didn't know English, and our Bengali, well.. it sucked at that point. I don't think I will ever forget that scene.
Another scene I will never forget, and perhaps this is a subconscious root to my feminaziness, was at the mosque. In Bangladesh, women typically don't attend the mosque, or if they do, they go after the men have prayed and left. I remember looking down from my dadu's balcony and seeing the men flocking to the mosque next door after adhan (how I MISS that! It echoed through the sky, I thought the whole world could hear it!) and then 20 minutes later, a much smaller flock of women in their salwar kameez and dupatta. Since my mom did not have a habit of attending the mosque (when she was young she was taught that women didn't have to go, so she only goes on Eid), my dad took me with him during the men's time. Bear in mind, I was a 6 yr old. You know how 6 yr olds come: short, cute, often disproportionately lanky? So there I was 6 yr old me.. still innocent and little, going with Daddy to the mosque. It was very very hot, so I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. As I sat with my dad after salat, and he did something else next to me (sunnah perhaps? my memory is fuzzy on this point), I was looking around the room. An old man in front of me, with a long beard, turned around and sneered at me! He stuck out his tongue and kinda gave me an evil stare, I looked at my dad but he was still praying. I looked back at the man, and he looked at my legs and did the evil sneer face thing again. I seriously think he was condemning that I wore shorts to the mosque. I was 6! Anyway, that was my first experience with intolerance and modesty-patrol (which I will explain later). Thus, this has been a bit of my past geneology. It has its sadness, but it as human as any other. I do not wish to end here. I still have more to share.
Modesty-patrol is what I have come to call the people who have nothing better to do during salat, but make sure that everyone else is covered and non-nailpolished. For example, some woman at the mosque I attend is a modesty-patrolwoman. More than once, it has happened that during sujud, my hijab slips to the side, so a bit of hair peeps out the bottom. This woman literally starts tugging at my hijab while I am praying to fix it. I understnd that perhaps she is trying to save me from jahannam, which is why I don't' confront her or complain ni public (except on the internet, and only anonymously!). But really, have you ever had someone PULLING ON YOUR HEAD while you were trying ot concentrate on prayer to your Lord? It's a little unnerving. More so because we are in the sisters section, where not a male in the universe is allowed to set foot, and there is no one but other women there anyway. Other modesty-patrol people scan toes during Ruku. I've seen it out the corner of my eye.. some woman is glaring at my toes? oops.. Sorry ma'am .. I had no nailpolish remover left for today, astaghfirAllah. "Allah looks not at your bodies or your forms, but at your hearts and your deeds." We can all learn from this. Modesty Patrol people can relax. Accidents happen, mistakes happen. We are human. Let us pray! I guess I shouldn't be soo overtly cynical. Perhaps they are better than I am and perhaps their intentions to help their sister are more pure than my negligence. Another example of modesty-patrol that I find more humorous than anything else occurred when tamina was alive. We walked into the brothers section of the mosque to advertise for IAW (because we didn't have any brothers volunteer, besides, who cares, we were covered head to toe like we were supposed to be..)?so we walk in?.the room fell silent? all 30+ of the men were in awe.. (how dare they!!!!).. some small conversations continued.. we started to hang up the flyers, not saying a word to anyone.. but the room was still uncomfortably quiet, and some brothers left? I felt like a harlot. Scarlet Letter anyone? Some random brothers came up to us and very courteously told us the directions to get to the "sisters section" (salam sister, the other sisters are down that hallway)? if I wasn't polite, I would have told him, "yes brother we know.. we just came OUT of there.." but instead I just kept my mouth shut and let tamina explain our MSA publicizing purposes. Eventually we got to speak with one of the higher-ups who didn't mind having us there. I have to ask, "sisters rooms" (with the TV broadcast of the imam's pulpit) could not possibly exist prior to 50 years ago. So how is this sunnah?

Such thoughts and memories scramble through my mind at times. but so much else too! Latest procrastination tactic: finding englsih translations to my favorite hindi songs. There is so much beauty in their meanings that I was unaware of before! I found a "me" song too! "Mein Albeli" from the movie Zubeidaa, always had a special ring to it and I love listening to teh song. The dance too, is really cute. The lyrics though, bear an uncanny resemblance to me. Check it out. :)

For more hindi song lyrics in english, check out Bollywatch.com.
I was thinking about these lyrics a lot. A sole wandering enigma, carrying a heart of glass in a world of stone. That's me. I'm not sayign I'm upset, no shattering glass here... In fact, its the opposite. There is a certain freedom and peace in being a wanderer. I have been blessed in my journey to have encountered such peace as much of the world bears only as a pipe dream. But that is the essence of peace, at least in my current philosophical moment... a glass heart in a world of stone.. is peace. Its beautiful, fragile, and its clarity is such that some can't even see its presence...
Latest favorite movie: Lord of teh rings all the way. Its ridiculous how some peopel find hte "ending was stupid." My gosh. My favorite character was Aragorn.. he's so cute, a valiant prince (big girly sigh, lutfi-style)! Ok, really, my favorite character was Gandalv. So wise and good. "I wish I had never been given teh ring. I wish none of thsi had happened." "Dear Frodo, waht has happend has happened. it is what you will do with what has happened in the time you have left that will matter." Another favorite line that echoes in my mind simply because Cate Blanchett said it sooo well.... "Aha.I have passed the test. Now I shall go off.. into the East.. and forever remain... Geladriel..." Also, I love when the Dwarf says "NOBODY TOSSES A DWARF!" finally, "Even the smallest of creatures can change the course of the universe" (geladriel again). Oh yes, and Legalos has amazign hair. I maen, it woudl be more amazing if he wa s girl, cuz he looks awfully girlish with that hairstyle.. but its so shiny and long. I mean, and this is unanimous between my sisters and I, but he had the best long hair in the whole movie, even better than Liv and Cate's! Man, the irony, eh? If you havent' seen this flick yet, you definitely* should (and you should definitely invite me because I will definitely go with you.. I cant pass this one up!.. "inshAllah" to all of the above). LOTR is an excellent movie, perhaps the best I have seen in a very very long time.

i watched LOTR in Nashville when I went during Christmas weekend to visit my relatives. Pics are up on this site. Go to the homepage to get the link. It is always a great experience getting together with my mom's side of the family. we are way artsy on that side. Song, dance, music, abounds. We have three professional musicians on that side of the family. And of course, I'm a dancer like my mommy. :) In fact, my sister and i held a dance show when we were there, for all the ladies. They taped out craziness. We came up with a really dirty dance for "No. 1 panjabi." I mean, its not dirty dirty, its just really modern, kinda hip hop, more than I'm used to ever doing in public...it threw our "older audience" for a loop. ;P I refuse to repeat that dance for any male I'm not married to! Aside from that, we did some cute onesto "bumbro," a hilarious rendition of "chori chori chupke chupke" (think.. what else do people do "on the sly and surreptitiously?"), "mehndi," "humko humise" was a flop, as was "pairon mein bandhan hain," but "nimbooda" was ok (got cut off on the tape). Radha kaise na jale was really good, according to the feedback i got from my mom, but we didnt get it on tape. oops.
Quick! Shoma's favorite hindi movies!
Lajja, Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam, Lagaan, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Taal, Chori Chori Chupke Chupke

OK, I think I'm drained of thoughts for the moment, or perhaps I'm making excuses because I'm sick of typing. As soon as my computer learns to dictate, you'll get much more out of me. :P

Later on, I'll try and write about the following things taht will take more time than I currently have available...Rookie/Sanjida conversations on gender relations and modesty in Islam.... Lutfi/Shoma conversations on the "predictable downward spiral of Shoma's interest in her crushes" (at least he says so...)...Dadima/Bitiyarani conversations on the meaning of life, the method of living life, and other way too deep issues...and of course, more on shoma's fave hindi flicks

In closing, here is a beautiful lullaby from the song Mission Kashmir? it is "So ja chanda" (sleep, lovely moonlight child..). Shoma means moon, my birthday was on Monday, and I found this song on my birthday. InshAllah, when I ever have someone to sing to sleep... (another big girly sigh)

All for now. May Allah keep you in His loving care. Ameen

As of February 10, 2002:
so a lot has been on my mind, and where else but my e-diary to vent it all. just call me the mistress of self-disclosure...
i love poetry, and i miss it because i have been too busy to actually write it all down, but at various points throughout my week i'll note a cool idea or concept that is poem-worthy.. and very rarely do i take the time to follow up on that. i tried though the other day, and got some poems started, but none finished. inshallah soon.
busy. yes i'm a busybody, a busybee. i dont know what life woudl be like if i weren't busy. many people have asked me if i've ever been bored, and i can't say i honestly have. i have too much fun wherever i am and whoever i'm with. as frank vizarre said, there are no strangers... only friends we have not met. and on the rare precious occasion of solitude, i find moments of peace, rest, meditation, poetry, art, or music, to occupy my time. i have also been known to dance wildly around my room when no one is looking. ;) hey, ya gotta practice moves somewhere*.
i have been studying for my social psych test (tomorrow) lately and the concepts in this field are really intriguing to an introspective soul such as myself. elyse and i debated whether i'm individualistic or collectivistic. a 1st generation bengali, i think there are elements of both in me. we discussed the possibility that organized religion may be a cohesive force in some ways that seeks to collect people, but on the other hand, allow independent thinking (within reasonable means). i think the most interesting concepts to me are the ideas of false attribution error, self-serving bias and self-fulfilling prophecy. its amazing how these ideas play out in our lives at all moments but we never really notice. false attributino error is when say, you do something weird, and i say "you did somethign weird because you ARE weird." but when I do something weird, i think to myself "well, i only acted weird this one time because of such adn such circumstantial reason." self-serving bias is pretty self explanatory. we do things for our own perosnal benefit most of the time. did you knwo that in a survey of hundreds of people who "ranked who would go to heaven (or not)," more people (87%) thought that they would go to heaven themselves than people who thought mother theresa would go to heaven (73% or so)? self-fulfilling prophecy is when what i think will happen becomes what occurs. we subconsciously act out our predictions, positive or negative. definitely gives a big boost to teh importance of PMA! :) ok, my first two tests of the semester are tomorrow, so i best get going. more later.

As of February 18, 2002. i realized that in this minibio, I have yet to actually put much about my biographical info. So here it is.
Sanjida is known to sleep little, talk much, and be so busy that people have asked her if there are two of her on campus. Sanjida was born in Cincinnati, OH and has lived in Ohio for the majority of her life. She is a junior at CWRU, double majoring in Biochemistry and Psychology. She intends to pursue an MD/PhD in neurology/neuroscience once she graduates in 2003. Currently she does independent research at Louis Stokes VAMC on an antipsychotic drug called Risperidone (Risperdal, commercially). Sanjida has worked actively with CWRU's Muslim Student Association and Muslim Campus Outreach group since 1999. She has further been involved with several Muslim youth groups, camps and seminars since high school. At CWRU, she is also a Resident Assistant in a dorm building, and a Teaching Assistant for an introductory biology lab. In addition, she has been president of CWRU Intercultural Dialogue Group for a year now. In her "spare time," she likes to volunteer at UH and the Free Clinic, play violin, go shopping with her sisters, listen to all kinds of music, write poetry, paint, watch movies, and take long walks with friends. She enjoys discussing Islam from all angles and welcomes any questions or comments at sss16@cwru.edu.

As of March 24, 2002

This is my social psych experiment. I found it a highly interesting day. :)

PSCL 315 Extra Credit: The estranged prom queen experiment

On March 19, 2002, the social norm I violated was casual dress code in everyday environments. I decided to wear a big poofy blue prom dress to several places around University Circle?social psych class, down the street, VA medical center, on an RTA, Thwing center, and the Baha?I club cultural dinner--for the duration of an afternoon. I chose this because although I would violate a norm, I felt like dress code is a social norm that would be something that could be ?positively? violated? that is, no one would get angry or get in trouble for this prank, and I felt that was important since it was just an experiment. To plan this, the day before the ?experiment,? I spoke with my VA lab director to make sure she was aware that I was fully sane and doing this for class and not to lose my job (the idea of working with lab rats in a prom dress struck her as very funny, admittedly, but she said Ok and that she couldn?t wait to see it.). So, I came back to my room during my lunch break and took my dress to my first class in a bag, since I didn?t have time to change, and changed in between that class and my social psych class. When I took the dress out of the bag in the Baker 1st floor restroom (my dressing area), I realized that I had forgotten to grab my nice shoes and a matching ?hijab? (the scarf I wear on my head). I was getting a little nervous about that, and even contemplated waiting until the next day to do this experiment. However, I pushed myself against my own doubts to not only don the dress, but accompany it with the hiking boots, white ankle socks, and maroon hijab that I already had on me. Regardless of how beautiful the dress was, I was less concerned with looking out of place than with looking just plain tacky with the clunky boots and mismatched headgear. I ran into Jessica in the bathroom and she guessed that I was doing this for my project, but I told her not to tell anyone, and she didn?t. In addition to looking funny, I arrived late to class, my dress making a ?swish swish? sound with every step, whereupon I heard lots of laughter as I tried to find a seat as quickly yet nonchalantly as possible. When Natalie asked for examples of projects, I raised my hand and mentioned another incident that I had done previous to this class (passing out smiley stickers to ER patients). At that point, I felt like everyone was watching me: ?So, if you did that ER thing for your extra credit? what?s with the ball gown?? At least, that was the effect I was hoping to achieve. I wanted to control for the bias of our psych class. After a while, no one seemed to notice my fashion faux pas, but on my way out of the building, I caught one male student giving me a really weird look as I dragged the tail end of my dress (its easy to clean off luckily) up the stairs. I went to KSL after that to check my email, and made it a point to walk around the 1st floor a lot.. to use the bathroom, to visit a friend, to check my email, etc. I ran into three friends, who all asked me why I was so dressed up. I said I just felt like it. They said I looked ?really nice? and laughed when I revealed my hiking boots. One of them, the only guy of the three friends, didn?t say a word to me when he typically is very talkative with me, so I found that interesting. By this point, I was having fun and forgot the inconveniences of wearing a prom dress, so I swished around the 1st floor some more, wrote a couple of email, and headed out to work again. As I walked to the VA medical center where I do research, I saw a Greenie coming and I was near a stop. I raised my hand and started to move to the stop, and the Greenie passed me by. However, that could have just been a really picky Greenie driver too, since I wasn?t yet exactly* at the greenie stop. When I got to the hospital, I entered through the main hospital entrance instead of the research building entrance I normally go through, and walked nonchalantly through the waiting room. Heads definitely turned. I saw them. I bought a chai from the coffeestand, and as I waited in line, a male nurse?perhaps in his late 30?s?approached me and asked me if I knew ?some girl who looked just like? me ?and had a bookbag like me who worked in research. Some research study that had to do with dogs?? I said, no I didn?t. He then asked me what I did and where, I told him research and gave him a very vague response as to where (it was a little scary); ?I work in research.. in the research building.? He suddenly got really animated and said ?It?s YOU!? So I corrected him and told him a little bit about my research. He tried to ask me some questions about ant brains?and whether or not I found them fascinating too? I think he was just trying to make conversation. I know nothing about ant brains, so I had to shrug him off in order to get to work. I was able to do my lab work without any problem, and afterward, I went back to the waiting room and sat very conspicuously right next to the TV, so that anyone watching TV (which was everyone), would have no choice but to see me. I sat there for 20 minutes, looking around the room, even examining the sign that pointed to the Mental Health ward (I thought it would be a nice touch). I caught about 3 ?one-time only starers? and 5 ?repeat starers? out of the 20 people in the room. One man approached me and told me I have a lovely complexion. (?What the???). After 20 minutes, I got up and walked out to wait for the bus. I got on the RTA, using my handy dandy RTA pass, accompanied by two men with prosthetic legs. There were only two passengers on the bus already, and they didn?t seem to be fully alert to what was happening, so I had an uneventful ride over to Euclid. From there I went to Thwing center, where I spoke with a couple of my friends who were highly impressed by my dress and made me spin around princess-style for them in the Thwing atrium. It was Elyse and Jackie from social psych, no less. J They also wanted to know if it was a special day and why I dressed up so nice. I said that I just felt like it, and they gave me an understanding, ?oh?? I could see that they weren?t exactly satisfied with my answer, but they made it sound like they understood anyway. It was the social norm of politeness, I felt. At this point, I went to the Baha?I club dinner a half hour early. I am not an active member of the club though I am on the mailing list and know the president really well. I walked in, and though I didn?t know anyone but Aaron, asked if they needed any help setting up. They were a little surprised at first, but then welcomed the assistance. Swishing around the Thwing ballroom in my ballgown and hiking boots, I set up the tea and coffee table and the programs. Aaron and some of his friends were standing with me at one point when a middle aged man who had come to attend the dinner introduced himself. Speaking only to Aaron, he said, in total seriousness, ?I?m guessing you guys are all from Baha?I club right? And it looks like she [referring to me] just kind of wandered in?? Perhaps he was kidding, but he really seemed to disapprove of my presence at their cultural dinner for ?good people,? since I looked out of place. Aaron flashed me a ?Yo Sanjida, disregard what he said? look. I wasn?t offended but I didn?t respond to him either. In fact, after the rest of the day?s glares and politeness, I was surprised that the man had made a comment directly about my belongingness at this particular event. During the dinner, I received several comments that I looked nice and they loved my dress. I noted one friend who had a nice sweater and nice pants on, even say that she felt ?really underdressed? for the occasion... although the occasion was clearly semi-casual to casual, and not a formal affair by any means. At Thwing I ended up telling my friend Hadele, about this experiment. I really felt like telling someone about my day?s experiences. She promised not to tell until the dinner was over, but was the first to admit to me that yes, my outfit was tacky and that she was shocked I didn?t match my hijab to my outfit as I usually do. I realized something at that point. Throughout the day, I really had to know that SOMEONE nearby, be it Jessica in class, my lab director at the VA, or Hadele at the dinner, knew that I was still a ?normal? person, that I was not crazy and that this was ?just for a class.? It reflected my own insecurity about being different from others. That was probably the most interesting thing I learned from doing this, because at first I didn?t even realize I was following this pattern everywhere I went in my dress. I walked home with Yasamin and Amit. After I debriefed them post-dinner, Yasamin said that ?several? people had approached her during the dinner and said ?Sanjida looks really nice today.? I suppose that some people may have decided that since I had ?tried? so hard to ?look nice,? the fact that I didn?t match didn?t matter (E for effort?), and overall, to them, I did ?look good.? However, another possible explanation is simply the social norm of polity. It is ?common knowledge? that one should not criticize someone to their face because it might hurt their feelings. That is, keep the negative opinions to yourself, and express the positive. It is probably a good thing that we do this, survival wise. I don?t think everyone would want to know what I totally honestly think of them at some time or another, and I don?t think I would want to know what they totally honestly think of me at some time or another. So, it makes me wonder how often we are truly sincere in what we say to others. Had I not told anyone ahead of time about my project incentive, I probably still would do this activity, but only if I could debrief everyone afterwards. It is important to me that people see me as a rational person. My concern about my impressions on others, especially those friends and people who know me well, overshadowed my desire to be unique to the extreme. Also, my self-consciousness probably colored my attributions to others' behavior or intentions in what they said to me all day long. I don't see any way to avoid that false judgment when breaking the norm. I would definitely dress up again just for fun on a school day, but probably not to the point of breaking out a prom dress. If I ever DO break out the prom dress again, at the very least, my hijab and shoes have GOT to match. There just ain't another way to do it.

ok, i just noticed something highly disturbing but i dont know how to fix it. All my apostrophes and quotation marks are coming out as question marks on the screen. GRR. i'm not really that awful at punctuation or that rhetorical, so pardon the screwup (and tell me how to fix it if you should happen to know.:)

As of September 2003

OK, this time I've really done it. I had totally forgotten about the little web "home" that Becky had so generously acquainted me with so long ago. She told me in 1996 that someday, when we're all reclusive people whose primary identities are found on the internet, it will be really nice to have some space to myself, like my own webpage. Well Duck you were right!
It looks like I haven't written since Junior year of college... um, thats a while, so I'll try to fill in main events right now.
The end of junior year came and went really fast. Through Spring, Summer, and Fall 2002, I was primarily devoted to my research in the Pehek lab when I wasn't in class. I managed to get 3 studies out of that lab: the SPUR study on D1 receptor specificity that took me to the Society for Neuroscience Conference in November 2002 (almost IMMEDIATELY after I was declared out of the severe stage of mononucleosis--see below-- I was on a plane to Florida! let's just say, never go to CityWalk unless you remember your ID! The only places we were able to go in were MoTown, MargaritaVille, and someplace else I can't remember. Although, dancing with the students from Alaska and Birmingham in the middle of the street for 2 hours was totally fun! So was getting reimbursed for the trip later!!), and then the Risperidone study took both Omar AND me to Colorado Springs (Can anyone ever forget the superposh BROOOOOOADMOOR Hotel? OOHHH GOOOOOOOD. or running into the other two indian/arab students from vancouver that were there and goin out with them for nearly the whole night (on Omar's heavenly bed, wasnt it)? or meeting the guy that invented Clozapine in person? perhaps driving "into the hills" during every spare moment, and watching EVERY STAR IN THE SKY SHINING above us from the pitch black heights of the Rockies! and then freaking out because the pot dealers brought their pickup to teh same ledge we parked our rental Camry! And finally, did I drive 10,000 ft into the sky? Up the tallest mountain in the continental US? in a RENTAL CAR? AWWWWWWwwww YEEEEAAAA baby!), and finally, I got to work on a really fast project to try to look at prolactin regulation of dopamine (American Cancer Society summer grant... that was the time Dan came by and nearly puked when he saw the rat guillotine). And all that fun was just from working in the lab! Let this be a lesson to those of you who think research is boring and for, dare I say it, NERDS.
but I still managed to have a life ON campus too. I TA'd BIOL 210 and 211, for Missy, who was once my own TA back in the day! Teaching is SO in my genes. My grandfather was a teacher, my dad is a professor, my uncles are professors, my other grandfather was a spiritual advisor. Its in my blood to teach people. I knew that academia was totally for me because of my TAing... and of course, I also got to meet all the cute little froshes and sophs. Admittedly, I had my favorites, and its been so cool to watch them "grow up" and start doing research of their own, get their own fellowships, etc. I miss em!
I also continued to work, at least peripherally, with ICDG and MSA (probably not as well-organized as I was initially), and RA both Glaser and Kusch (top of the hill buildings). I wasnt very good at either of these huge projects during senior year for several reasons. First of all, I got mono at the end of September, JUST after I submitted my AMCAS. So, I sat in bed, thinking I was dying, waiting for my spleen to rupture as I tried to breathe, propped up on 4 pillows for 2 whole weeks so that my throat wouldnt close on itself (it was SO swollen!), and surviving solely on ginger ale and Caprisun liquid calories. I dont think theres a single episode of The Wedding Story, Trading Spaces, or The Baby Story that I ever missed. For someone who never watched TV, I watched more than I needed to make up for it during those 4 weeks in bed, and the following 2 weeks "adjusting to light activities." So, in the meantime, my secondaries piled up skyhigh, and I scrambled to finish my coursework so I could still graduate on time (did you know mono counts as a student disability?). I actually took the midterm and final for my Pharm 430 class within ONE week of eachother!! Second reason I was underinvolved Senior year was cuz of med apps. I applied to several schools, from what I remember, they were OSU, CWRU, Wright State, Northwestern, Vanderbilt, U Illinois, Boston U, NYU, U Michigan, Duke, and Wash U if I remember correctly. Aside from the "only in-state applicant schools" like MIch, Boston, and NYU, I got interviews at every school. I actually ATTENDED interviews at OSU, CWRU, WSU, UIll, and Wash U. I know I know, why would I cancel an interview at Northwestern or Vandy? Believe me I got slapped across the face by many a compatriot premed for being such a snot. But honestly, it was because I knew I wasnt going to make it into their MD PhD programs (I missed the deadlines for that application at those schools) and I had already been accepted to MSP at UIll and OSU and waitlisted at CWRU. Wash U was really tempting until I actually went to St. Louis. I didnt like it. And yeah, I lived in Cleveland for 4 years.. St Louis should be a step up eh? Whatever... Ultimately, I picked OSU. It was good for me for a lot of reasons. I knew that an 8 year investment of time would require a lot of family support, and also perhaps more of my own support of THEM. So I wanted to stick close. As Westernized as I think I am sometimes, whether thats actually true or not, I still have the ingrained belief that its my job to take care of my elders in their old age. Its the least I owe them for all I've put them through... I mean seriously, I would have a really tough time trying to raise a kid like me! I'm always so damn complicated! Also of course, I liked the OSU program better than UIllinois. Funding and resource wise, social life and urban access wise, OSU had the goods and U Ill didnt (as much). The third and final reason I was underinvolved on campus was cuz I spent so much of my spare time either in the lab (I'm talkin weekends and evenins here!) or with the former BF Dan (yes, former... we'll get to that). When we spent time together during the SUmmer of 2002 living in Clarke tower, we had a great time. I could totally be myself, immature goofball that I am a lot of times when I let loose. He taught me how to swing dance, and I gotta admit, when a man knows how to treat a lady as a lady, and dance with her as a lady... dude thats impressive. We did the whole moonlight stroll thing, sharing our personal poetry with eachother, discussing our views of the world, etc. Then I asked him out (I'm always making the damn first move... can someone ask ME this time around?) and the rest is history. Coping through my illness, his LSATS, both of our application processes and interviews, my cousins illness and death, and pre-graduation craziness... in some ways, the point of the relationship got lost for me amidst the fun. I mean, who doesnt like having ready company thats always comfortable, easy to understand, and available for hugs? I'm a sucker for a hugger. OK, that sounds so weird, but if you can stop laughin at the statement, you know what I mean. ANYWAY, it was only when we spent several weeks apart during summer that I realized that our relationship was built on some flimsy idealisms, my own stubborness to make everything work no matter what, and the CWRU environment (which indeed is a bubble, and anyone who has ventured out of CWRU knows this... its not a bad bubble.. its a bubble you miss.. but its not a bubble you can take with you when you leave). We broke up in August just before classes started here at OSU. We're on hiatus but trying to be friends, but I think we'll manage.
SO yeah, in May I graduated. In June I started the MD PhD program here at OSU, also called the IMSP. I'm doing my PhD in integrated biomedical sciences, which essentially means I have access to rotate through and/or do dissertation work in any lab at OSU that studies something relevant to human disease. Its a different program than traditional MD PhD programs because it involves taking some grad classes and some med classes simultaneously at all times, but in the end, you get the dual degree and usually even shave a year off the time. For the CWRUers, its something like the BSTP and MSTP program all mixed together.
So far things are going well. Its definitely taking some adjustment, a new place, a new bunch of people, a bunch of people from my past that I suddenly run into (and had lost touch with.. so where do we pick up now?), and new responsibilities. I have never been a drinker, but suddenly I'm in this place where everyone drinks when they go out, so believe it or not, I'm finally learning to be a DD (i.e. I have been). I discussed this with Saad the other day. No matter how bad things got at CWRU, alcohol-wise... it was nothing compared to down here. AND, nobody ever really drove much (beyond across campus... a whole 2 miles), IF EVER. So this whole analysis of drinking and driving is totally new to me. Does that make me naive, innocent, or clueless? Anyway, its one of those new things, I'll learn, and I'm fine with it as far as my end is concerned. I'd never make someone stop drinking if thats what thy really want to do, just like I'd expect them to never push me TO do it, because I really dont want to (i have my reasons...). If theres anything CWRU taught me, its to be tolerant, and be yourself.
I do love bootyshakin on teh dance floor, and people watching, and meeting people, and of course sarcasm and "those random connections" (all the way back to Peter's connections journal) gets the best of me ALL the time, so I've still managed to have a good time between study sessions (and even sometimes AT study sessions!)
I gotta admit its hard here. As a mud phud, I dont quite fit into the MD1 class, or the IBGP PhD class, because my course requirements and schedule always differ slightly. Its easy to feel disconnected from both. Then of course, I'm THE female rep in our 4-person mudphud class. I can't reeeally complain because its such a small program and I assume the fellowships are more smarts-related than gender-related. There are two other women mudphuds this year but I've only met one. Natosha is great though, just further ahead in her career and in her life. We connect as women and friends, but its different than chillin with my fellow 20-something ladies. I mean, I've actually always gotten along better with guys, and when I count my closest pals, I'd say a good 70% are guys. But still, amidst all of this disjointed social life and scrambled academic schedule, I need some sisterhood ya know? What happened to my always reliable always fun always social activist dance-lovin posse of Soumzy, Samara, Hadele, Maheen, Yasi and Ro? Cooking together and bellydancing and playing powderpuff sistas "Fooooball" trying on outfits and guy-bashing and analyzing Trading Spaces and planning community service projects? I'm still in touch with everyone from CWRU, thankfully, and of course, I'm making my best efforts socially down here. Never really been afraid to go up to someone and start a conversation. Even if you're only 30% successful at keeping in touch with the person, its a better chance of finding cool peopel than if you say nothing at all. So yeah, I've met a ton of people, and theres definitely people I could go up to and make small talk, or joke around, or study with, or invite out for the weekend, and a handful I could even "talk" to about the things that I really* think about. But overall, this early in the game, I think I agree with Nupe when he said, "its like you end up making these really good friends, people who are always ready to hang out with, people you have fun with, have tons of inside jokes and history with, but when it comes down to it... how many could you tell your life story to? or talk to about the bad things, the sad things, the things that worry you?" I guess overall what I've been feeling lately is something between the thrill and contentment of being independent combined with the boredom and frustration of being alone. Its the pain and excitement of the lone adventurer starting on a hopeful journey..... I guess its time to call it a night. As usual, my best writing/venting is at 3 AM. Still hopeful though, and working hard to be the best damn Mud Phud Chick there is.

"I wonder what wonder the world will bring me today?"

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