Weblog by A. Elizabeth Graves. iPhone photography and links to science-y and foodie topics.
Oh, it’s been so lovely this week.
This week featured the soupiest, most dramatic fog.
The warmest, glowiest sunrise. (Yes, I may be making up words.)
Delightful conversations with people who are fun and talented at conversation, so that interacting with them felt so natural. The kinds of conversations that leave you smiling and feeling a little sunnier. (Sunnier a real word.)
My only regret is that I’ve been wreck on days when I’ve run live training for large groups. Interacting with so many people (and then continuing on to have a full day of meetings) just… EMPTIES me. And then I am mentally just pudding in human form, and can’t respond properly to others. I feel rude toward people who reasonably expect me to engage, but who don’t know that I’ve already given out all the communication I had in me.
I feel like I should wear a vest similar to the ones that service and police dogs wear that says “DO NOT PET.” I said similar – I’m not that size. (Also, I wouldn’t use that label, because there are people I know who might hassle me whenever I’m not wearing it.) The phrases I would use to both apologize and ask people to be gentle with me are all too long to put on a reasonably-sized patch, however.
If you know me: I appreciate your patience as I reboot.
Novelty pens labeled “failure is always an option” and “you can be replaced” from a colleague. I laughed out loud. She noted that those of us who are more seasoned see them as funnier than young people. Note that we work in the legal profession.
I returned home from work on Wednesday, and wondered why the lights were so bright and the lines in my kitchen seemed so wavy. I was just tired enough to wonder what was wrong with the lights… but it wasn’t the lights.
This is called “aura,” and it’s like the special effects you see when you have your eyes dilated by an eye doctor. I can achieve the same effect through the magic of MIGRAINE HEADACHES.
Despite the beginning of a new migraine series (they rarely happen just one day in a row), it’s been a lovely week. It isn’t just all the people congratulating me on my promotion, though that is sweet: it’s all the people just being delightful to interact with.
It’s the scientist I bumped into after leaving a bookshop, who chatted with me on the sidewalk for perhaps 20 minutes; it’s the young person from another team who is always so optimistic; it’s the gal from another company who once had me sample farmer’s market strawberries, and who chats with with me so comfortably that it feels like we’ve always known each other; it’s the gal from a global function who bought espresso with me and was charming even at 6:45 in the morning as we made our way toward our ferry; it’s the shuttle driver I ride with 3 or so times a week, who knows I don’t ride in the evening, yet rolled down his window to try to tempt me with a shuttle ride to the train station (which made me laugh out loud – it’s a free shuttle); it’s the attorney who popped into my office with a question, and then told me she is amazed that I am so consistently PLEASANT and that listening to my voice is like walking into a spa; it’s the workers at the fancy coffee place who know my name, and I know theirs…
Perhaps it was the isolation of 2020-2021’s safety precautions still influencing me, but I appreciate people being casually enjoyableso much. I’ve enjoyed it in the past, but it feels… more special now. Having lost those opportunities for a while, I ensure that I notice and enjoy them now. I will relish them right up to the next pandemic!
Weblog by A. Elizabeth Graves. iPhone photography and links to science-y and foodie topics.
This year, I’ve traveled by plane three times for my career, but only once for recreation, which likely does reflect my priorities (ouch). It also feels like a lot of flying after the pandemic shelter-in-place times, even though it pales beside my old regular-commute-to-Europe phase.
This past week, I attended a conference in Las Vegas, where it reached 107 degrees outside. The conference schedule was packed and in a large hotel/conference center, which made it easy to stay engaged while hiding indoors from the heat. There were coffee and even espresso stations to help balance out the increasingly aggressive air conditioning with inner warmth. It was a good experience, and I even dreamt about new (highly sci-fi versions) of the presentations last night, so I am still processing what I experienced.
I’ve only been to Las Vegas twice, both times for this conference.
I have found it difficult to explain to friends who like Vegas why I don’t: just because I don’t enjoy drinking to excess, smoking of any kind, gambling, dressing for attention from hard-partying strangers, etc., doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with those activities. They just aren’t my cup of tea. And when it is over 100 degrees Fahrenheit outside, it isn’t like I can escape to the great outdoors – even frozen tea wouldn’t be enough to cool me to functional temperatures.
Returning home, I was filled with joy at the fog, plainly visible from the airplane, as we approached the City… It’s so good to be back in my natural habitat!
A repeating collage of my most recent negative COVID test results from fresh tests restocked last month. I’d swear the control lines used to be more vivid… But these are so reasonably priced!
My employer’s mandatory return-to-site policy has been in effect for several months. A pattern has emerged: every few weeks, the safety team’s email arrives, letting me know that I have been exposed during a likely contagious period to an unnamed work colleague who subsequently tested positive for COVID.
Again. And again.
Masks are freely available at work, which is nice. Test kits aren’t: now, you must fill out a form JUSTIFYING why you want one from a menu of specific types of exposure. This seems… counterproductive.
I actively monitor myself, I keep fresh at-home tests stocked (at my own expense!), I pay attention to changes in how I feel. I maintain a supply of fresh Korean KF-94 masks (I like the fit), prettier Hong Kong masks (rated EN149 & FFP2; I like the designs and colors), and some even prettier Japanese fabric masks (because not every situation requires a highly rated mask, and Japanese fabric patterns are so hip). There are fresh masks sealed in containers in nearly every type of purse, bag, or backpack I carry.
But this is effort. And money.
As another COVID wave rolls through the office, and we must navigate our obligations to keep others safe while not necessarily being safe ourselves, I marvel that this most recent office exposure (day zero) resulted in an authentic COVID headache (TM) and fatigue on day 4 – without a fever and without testing positive. My relief at the mildness of my condition arm-wrestles with the frustration that I must be exposed this way at all, and don’t know what to expect next.
My interpretation of current official guidance is: if/when I feel fine, it doesn’t really matter if I have COVID anyway (!?!), which seems like something written by COVID itself.
I have jokey flashbacks to that scene from the Devil Wears Prada about being ‘one stomach flu away from [my] goal weight,’ and joke that I feel ripped off: rather than returning to the office slimmer, or with fewer wrinkles, or with firmer abs as the result of my exposure, I’ll only return to the office with a higher risk of stroke and other unwanted conditions. (Zero stars: I do not recommend COVID at all.)
I write this as someone who likes going into the office three (or even four) days a week. There’s something about the flexibility that hybrid work policies gave people to stay home when they felt a little off without needing to justify it that was broadly beneficial. Those are just GOOD policies.
The wonderful thing about weekends, though, is that naps are possible if I don’t overschedule myself. Yes, I was up at five something, but by eleven (AM!) I went down so hard for a nap that I considered checking my neck for drugged darts.
I needed that.
Unlike this bottle of Pocari Sweat, which I don’t need, but which I am truly enjoying…
Delicious to look at, delicious to drink: hooray for almond milk lattes at Ritual Coffee!
Update on Facial Graffiti: After using a harsh fading shampoo three times in one day on my hennaed eyebrows, I went to work and… received compliments on my new glasses from a nice young man.
I didn’t have new glasses: my newly visible eyebrows frame my face so well, my glasses look better. All is well that ends with improvements to my vanity, I guess!
I just have to figure out how to avoid that first-day-Sharpie-attack look. And argue with my stylist about her very unrealistic definition of “light brown.”
Update on What I’m Reading: I was going to apologize for going from being the person who only writes about SERIOUS SUBJECTS (oooooh, so impressive) and summarizes US Supreme Court rulings with mildly catty commentary to someone who has 85% graphical fiction content with a trend toward gay male romances, but… why apologize? I’m enjoying myself! That’s what is important. Well, to me, anyway. There are always more heavy books in my pile, and I will get to them when the time is right.
What I’m (Not) Writing: I’m working on notes for the science fiction scenes that I imagine when I’m listening to too much of Massive Attack’s Angel, but I’m not getting far. Someone sits near me, and when he is there, I don’t write. I just… am. I hold the pen; I hold the notebook; words just float away.
The one who sits near me has the best hair. (Ahhhhh.)
Others sit near me and don’t have this effect, so I am not forever sabotaged: it’s just that the scenes that have come to me aren’t all smoothly connected (there is a war, war lacks narrative cohesion and involves abrupt transitions in my view), and it will take some time to connect them with proper bonds.
I’m afraid I’m being influenced by the styles of streaming television, as the wreckage in the first scene makes me want to put up a giant title card that says, “10 days earlier” and launch a flashback… I don’t need to write that way. Unless Netflix has a pile of money for me, in which case, I will happily change my style.
Also: I need to not kill off so many characters so early. Aside from the realism that would bring. (Have you noticed how most named characters survive nearly every improbable thing in American stories? What the hell?!?).
I designed a costume for the character modeled on myself years ago. The left arm of her spacesuit is a different color (red) from the rest of her suit, which is unfortunate, but is based on something she predicts before it happens. Her/My left arm has it EVEN WORSE in this story than it has in real life. Dear left arm in real life, I truly love you, even with the plate and screws (especially with the plate, screws, and the scar!), and I am so sorry for what happens to you in the novella.
COVID Negativity Is The Best Negativity: Stay positive in outlook, negative in fresh diagnostic tests!
All the kids are making their eyebrows bolder now. (I want to blame the fabulous eyebrows on Korean drama actors, because those are some very attractive brows, but I doubt it is all their fault.) The women at work have them drawn in geometrically idealized eyebrow shapes with strong verticals and sharp edges, which they create with multiple tools, attention, and skill each morning.
My eyebrows, on the other hand, which have never matched my natural haircolor at any point, are fading from a neutral brown to white. They are mostly curves and awkward (startled or skeptical) angles. I’m not good at ‘multiple tools’ and ‘skill’ in the mornings. So, when I was getting my brows threaded into tidiness, I signed up to have them tinted. Tinting faded brows is the lazy way to roll out of bed and rush off to work without having a graphically important pair of features missing.
Tinting is a delicate professional thing: every box of hair dye you’ve ever seen tells you not to try it with hair products, because they will maim you. Sure enough, the eyebrow places use henna, which stains hair effectively with non-blinding, largely plant-based ingredients. My handler chose light brown, and got to work.
As she was finishing up and fresh, faintly-lemony scents evaporated from my forehead, she told me that the first day of henna is not the way it will really look: it just needs some time to finish setting. I have used henna for hair in the past, and know what she meant. So I wasn’t entirely surprised by the results.
But I was a little surprised.
Surprised in a way that could be seen from a distance.
It looks like my eyebrows have been drawn in with a Sharpie (TM).
I had other plans after my brow appointment, but cancelled them once I realized how bold my brows now (temporarily) are. My mother called, and I described this to my mother in my typical way. She couldn’t. stop. laughing.
Having delighted my mother means that I’ve achieved something worthwhile today.
