Turning Points

One of my coworkers was “once upon a time” a sheriff. He told me the other day while waiting for a meeting, “you know, no matter how bad it gets, it was never as bad as the worst day of my career as a sheriff”. I have no idea what happened in June 1978 where he was a sheriff, but I am thinking I don’t really want to know. However, the fact that he stood there on Wednesday morning and said this to me should provide a bit of context for the week’s events and my mental state.

I thought about this a few times in the past few days. What was my worst day at work? What day do I look back to in my professional career as the really downer days? Do I have an epic fail? What is the worst day?

When I was in graduate school I learned a major lesson that I have carried with me throughout my career, “don’t depend on anyone but yourself”.

I was a graduate student and went to my first professional society conference with my advisor. I stood proudly by my poster and answered all the questions that came to me. I was on top of the world! The next day was my advisor’s talk. I sat anxiously in the audience waiting for my name to appear up in front of all those scientists and secretly wanting to flash my badge to everyone so they would know that was ME! We had run some computational work that was standing out as being large impact in our field. It contradicted what a few preeminent scientists in our field had said about this reaction. But we ran the computational work over and over and had experimental work to back it up. It worked and it made sense (to a new assistant professor and a 3rd year grad student).

My advisor stood up there and spoke. He was interrupted once, he answered it, he was interrupted twice, he answered that question. Pretty soon the room had erupted and my advisor had a red face and wasn’t able to answer the questions that were flying at him. They were ugly questions, many of them with little basis, but some were quite legitimate questions.

I walked away from that talk a changed graduate student. I had put so much faith into my advisor leading me, guiding me, taking care of me and telling me how to do things and what to do. This was my first exposure to the cut-throat nature of science. I snuck to a phone booth (this would be a place where you could go and make a call on a large phone attached to the wall and hardwired to the building that also required coins to operate). I picked up the phone and called my boyfriend at the time (now my husband) and declared how ugly it was. I had serious reservations about the validity of our work.

We moved on in our research. We learned from the work. That ground-breaking paper? Never published. And it didn’t make its way into my dissertation either.

That day at that conference was the worst day of my graduate work. The turning point in my graduate career and possibly my professional career as well – I could only trust myself.

My post-doc years were rocky, I have talked about that before. I can think of many of those days that were less than ideal. I remember one day sitting in my mentor’s truck on our way to lunch and he started making comments to the other occupant in the cab of the truck about how hard it was going to be to get me hired on. I remembered that day with my advisor and my vow those couple years ago to only ever depend on myself. I reminded myself that if I wanted a job here, it was going to be up to me to do it.

I did it. And I did it without my mentor. At the time he complained to me how offended he was that our manager had hired me on as staff without so much as even speaking to him. At the time I rolled my eyes – I had taken the initiative to get myself hired and made it happen, yay me! I understand his complaints a bit more now that I have limited term staff under me. I understand as a full time staff member with my own projects the load and hit your project can take when you have budgeted for a post-doc and you suddenly have a full time staff member under you.

I understand why he cut me loose. One element of it was that he had to do it from a budget perspective (in theory of course). The other, and larger element I believe was that he was making a statement to our manager. “You hired her, you find her something to work on.”

I was then on my own. I didn’t inherit a project to lead, or even a task. I didn’t have a mentor. I was a lowly and lost Scientist 2.

I floundered a lot, but eventually made my way into a new group and succeeded in keeping myself employed by pounding on doors and introducing myself during those early years.

Unlike many people at the lab, my start as a staff member was solo. My constructing myself as a scientist has for the most part been solo. I am now considered mid-career (however that happened) and I will happily, any day of the week, hang my hat on the fact that I built myself to where I am now. I met people, I worked so many different varieties of projects I have (to my own detriment) been called a Jane of all trades. Yes, I have been given helping hands at many points along the way, but that has been based purely off of my performance for others and proving myself. In times recently when it has been feast or famine. I have feasted. By my own doing.

I once heard a lab leader say “the lone wolf mentality is not tolerated here”. But when you don’t have the support of others to help build your career, what other choice do you have? I have few allegiances professionally. I am fighting my label as a “Jane of all trades” in order to build a niche area. Everyone has hurdles professionally and this is mine.

So back to my “worst day of my professional career” thought…

That would be the entire last two going on three weeks. I have managed to stick my foot in my mouth more than once in ways I will never forget. I have delivered bad news. I have yelled. I have hid in my office. I have confided in others, some I have learned I maybe shouldn’t have. I have found myself trembling as I have sat in my chair and listened.

Yes, this period of time would be the third turning point in my professional career… the first in grad school when I realized I couldn’t trust anyone but myself. The second when I actually acted on that as a post-doc and got myself hired on as staff and the third when I have had to deliver blows to people, real live people with feelings and aspirations in life. I have thick skin. I haven’t cried (yet). But it has really taken it out of me. And yes, yes, I do believe that these three weeks have changed me. I am not sure if it is for the better or worse yet.

But I will admit to contemplating (for a brief moment in time) that maybe I should buy a farm, raise chickens, sew and be a SAHM?

My new favorite...

cookbook.



When I graduated with my Ph.D., I got a few gifts. Not many. It isn't like when you graduate from high school or college and are lavished with gifts. With grad school it is more like people figure you are going to go out and make lots of money and work a great job and you are an adult... what do you need with "Oh the Places You Will Go"? (And you probably have four copies at least anyways.)


I received a few gifts though, despite the fact that I didn't send out announcements, nor did I march. Which according to my grandmother means I never graduated. (The whole defending your dissertation thing apparently didn't count.)


Ok, so on my list of regrets I will add that I never marched in my graduation ceremony for grad school. I was too excited to get up here and start my ultraimportant job and they "needed" me.

(Had I known how much they "needed" me, I would have stayed put and marched... Hindsite.)


One of my mom's good friends bought me the CIA's Textbook, The Professional Chef. CIA being the Culinary Institute of America, not the Central Intelligence Agency.


I knew it was a fantastic and unique gift when I received it, but it sat on my bookshelf relatively unused. Ok, I admit it, everything being measured in lbs and ounces put me off. Yes, I am a scientist, I can convert. But who wants to analyze a recipe at that level of detail before cooking?


Plus back then? I was way into The French Laundry's cookbook and mastering what I could in there. Thomas Keller was my hero.


My CIA textbook though has gotten more use in the last few days then it has in the previous 6 years. And I am leaving it out on my counter so I can do more with it. I am loving really learning the basics, the science and art of food at a much higher leven than I ever really intended in so far just three recipes.


The cookbook is NOT for everyone. Like I said the whole "1 lb of sugar" thing is just weird. But in addition to that, the recipes assume a lot. Like that you will know what the right amount of butter is - many recipes say "butter as needed" - many things are not measured. Times for cooking are not exact. Don't know what tomato concasse is before you start? Better find out! (Fancy name for peeled and seeded and diced tomatoes... of course...)


Sunday I made one of the quiche recipes. Fantastic. (And I will get the recipe out to those who asked for it.) Tonight I did pears poached in port. The recipe suggested serving them with caramel. Of course that would be a homemade caramel... but I do reside in the reality suberb of working mom-ville - thank you Hershey's jar of caramel sauce. It actually sounded somewhat nasty to me - caramel and port? Chocolate and port maybe. Caramel?


No joke. Yum.


Top Chef here I come!

Getting the true sense of the word?

The other night sitting at the table Leif suddenly stated, "I am a vegetarian."

He routinely says things, using "big words" and sometimes understands their meaning, sometimes not.

"Oh you are?" I ask him. I wasn't overly surprised given the lack of meat he will willingly eat lately. He has never been a big meat kid, but we are seeing the meat he will eat drop off the radar alarmingly quick. Quick enough that it has sent AB and I scrambling to define the "rules" of dinnertime. Something I had hoped to avoid with my "no fail" approach to not make a big deal out of food at all.

"What does that mean?" I asked him.

"It means I don't like meat," Leif tells me.

So he does get what vegetarian means - basically at least. I started wondering where he picked up the word (and the meaning) since we aren't vegetarians.

The next morning at daycare I asked if there was a child who was vegetarian or if it has been a topic of conversation. Nope, no children are vegetarians and she asked if he meant "veterinarian" as some of the older kids have been talking about wanting to be veterinarians.

I explained that he told us it means he doesn't like meat. His teacher was nearly as perplexed as I was. AB picked him up later that day only to report that Leif did declare his vegetarian status to the teachers as well - that he still ate his dino nuggets.

I am actually quite sure this is some sort of evil Karma thing going on.

You see when I was in grad school I met Vegan. Actually, that wasn't her name, but her name rhymed with Vegan (substitute the first letter for a "T"). We started grad school the same year and for our first semester or so we hung out together. We became friends mostly because we were not associated with a research group yet, we were taking all our classes together and being that we were a few of the only English speaking females - we could talk to each other.

I found her to be one of the oddest people I had ever met. She took "stubborn" to new heights. She was 4'10", vocal and more set in her ways then most senior citizens. After the first semester, once we all had offices and were associated with research groups, our frienship waned. Honestly, she drove me nuts.

She drove a lot of people nuts except for one guy - Bill. Bill was a really good looking Masters student. The guy that you don't even bother flirting with because there is just no shot. Oh and the fact that I was already dating someone, but anyways. Bill and I actually became friends and would occasionally eat lunch together, and we would all get together routinely to cook, hang out or go skiing. He and AB hit it off.

He told me one day, "I have to confess something. I really like Vegan for some reason, I am drawn to her, she intrigues me."

My jaw dropped open. Food may have fallen out.

Anyways, he never did date Vegan, and one day we met his new girlfriend, Jen. She was perfect for him; sweet, kind, active. I hope they married.

Eventually Vegan just drove us all insane and ended up leaving the university on bad terms with nearly everyone, including her advisor - though the university did award her a Masters degree for her time in. We all wondered who her family bought.

Ok, so back to my story...

Vegan told us one of the first days we all met at grad school orientation that she was a vegan and had been since she was three, despite the fact that she grew up on a farm and her parents were omnivores. So the story goes, when she was three years old she asked where meat came from and when she found out it was from animals, she swore off meat. And it never crossed her lips after that.

The thing about Vegan was that most of us didn't really take her seriously. Three years old? You swear off meat? Get real! (None of us had kids.)

Oh and not to mention the food she did eat? Ding dongs, twinkies, Burger King French Fries. Vegans and vegetarians - at least in my mind - are always relatively healthy. Though she declared herself vegan, she chose to remain ignorant of the fact that eggs are used in A LOT of things she was eating. We (myself and fellow grad students) didn't fail to point this out to her very regularly.

When Leif announced his new vegetarian status the other day, images of little Vegan sitting at my table crossed my mind.

Noooooo! I wanted to scream. Someone is so messing with me right now given the amount of teasing we doled out towards Vegan that year.

Actually though, should Leif decide he wants to be a vegetarian, I have no real problem with this - though AB might buck a little. I was a vegetarian in college for a few years and I understand the dietary requirements and alternate sources of protein.

But it may come as a shocker to Leif that turkey pepperoni... the stuff he sneaks to the fridge to grab and hide so he can snack on it at will? (I have found the turkey pepperoni packages hidden in many different locales in the house.) Turkey pepperoni is not part of a vegetarian diet.

Neither is his new declared favorite from last night... king crab. He put away a serious amount of king crab last night.

Ok, so there are fish eating vegetarians out there... I could let that slide. But picking and choosing the favored meats in the name of being a vegetarian? Not so sure about that.