At my desk, in my chair, hello computer!

Just like Phaedrus fears water, I fear computer simulations. I don't hate it, I just fear it.

And competing with that are the following fears:
1. Fear of feeling unproductive, aka, I haven't made a real device in the cleanroom in the last 4 weeks.
2. Fear of not having real data by testing a real device.
3. Fear of not being able to get anything useful out of the simulations in a short amount of time.
4. Fear of disappointing the Big Boss by not being able to get anything useful out of the simulations in a short amount of time.
5. Fear of not comprehending why the heck these simulations seem to behave the way they do.

I am happy to report that I have temporarily overcome some of these fears and have been tied to my desk and chair for 8-10 hours a day like millions of people who earn their bread by staring at a computer screen, and rediscovered a few things:
1. Ha, I don't have to necessarily wear long trousers to protect my legs, because I am not going to the clean room. It sure makes a variation in my daily (imaginary) fashion statement. I remember last year, when I was going through a similar simulatory phase at least 3 colleagues who I do not talk to on a regular basis stopped to ask me why I was wearing a skirt (!!).
2. Suddenly, numerous people seem to complement me on my "new" hairstyle, aka "not tied up and pressed flat against the scalp like Princess Leah". Courtesy, the same as above.
3. Telecommute, aka the joy of working wearing your PJs. Unfortunately, PJs are also very conducive to plopping on the bed and going off to sleep in the middle of the day when you are frustrated with the (non) results of your computer simulation.

How are the simulations going, you may ask? Uh, I'll let you know after I have napped a bit.

"Back" up

Piyali is in UK right now, and too much of sightseeing = back pain and sciatica, and extreme pain during any change in movement: standing up, turning, walking. I have seen her living with daily excruciating back pain for the past 15 years. The diagnoses have been many: slipped disc, osteoperosis, and a crazy number of others. Tractions, exercising, vitamin D injections, and what not, seem to have no effect. The primary treatment other than surgery for her seems to be exercise to keep the back flexible and reduce weight, but how does one do that if one can hardly stand? Lower back pain is one of the most common ailments out there, and the number of therapies that are present are mindboggling. But equally suspicious are the rates of success, the side effects, the temporary nature of the treatments in some cases.
Recently, I came across a unique back pain website, which seems to clear up at least some of the myths around back pain. While I am not yet sure what will work for Piyali, at least I have a better idea of what will not work. For example, I had no idea that chiropractic school was such a huge sham. Not that I have ever been to a chiropractor (we don't really have an equivalent of this in India), but the extent to which many of them are ill-trained and ill-equipped is scary.
On the other hand, I am hoping to see more about the efficacy of ozone discectomy in a future post , which interestingly, is available in India but still not in the States.
Maybe some form of discectomy or an epidural that would allow pain relief for a few months for her to get started with an exercise regimen maybe in order. Kal, my friend who is a physical therapist suggested this. Wierd, but I don't know why no doctor till now has suggested that, and it seems like a really good idea.
So currently I am on a mission to find out more and hopefully, help Piyali work with a doctor in a more informed way when she gets back to India.

Ironically, the way I keep my back in shape is by doing the yoga exercises Piyali taught me. Since she is an artist, I have nice figure drawings for each of the asanas, so I don't forget how they are done. And she can't do them because she is in too much of pain.

Plants

Are uncontrolled experiments. Too many unknown variables (Water, soil, drainage, nutrients, pot size, insects, temperature, species, mood...! ) in too complex a system composed of too many parts and too many materials and chemicals (it is a Plant).

It is comforting that I have better control in the clean room. Known, controlled variables of humidity, temperature (and you name it) in a simple system, heck, a simple element (silicon!) or compound (Gallium Arsenide).

But if my plant starts dying, I can look up the Internet for tips to further try to manage this complex system. If the device I make dies, I scratch my head. And scratch my head. Gardeners across the world are smarter than this PhD student.

'Lazy' days of summer

Summer goes too fast, and when Phaedrus is in town, the speedometer breaks.
Last week we did the following, in the stated chronological order:
Work, visit friends for dinner, work, watch Ice Age : Dawn of the Dinosaurs in 3D.
Work, visit the Eno River Festival and get our caricatures drawn, work.
Work, go to an American Dance Festival concert and watch a drag performance of Beyonce's All the Single Ladies, played an hour of Table Tennis.
Work, listen to the Army Jazz band on Corcoran Street, visit a Hindu temple and unexpectedly attend a Satyanarayan Puja, watch Howards End (quite a jump from pious Hindu godly thoughts).
Work, go to the mall and buy supplies from Target for a weekend-out-of-town trip, work.
Work (and finally get experimental results and submit a grant proposal....in two separate unrelated events), experience the Duke Immersive Virtual Enviroment cube, go to Target to finish shopping, go to Dain's Place with friends.
Drive to the Outer Banks, mull over the genius of the Wright brothers, beach around, watch "The Lost Colony", an outdoor drama in its 72nd year, wonder how many lakhs/crores of rupees would be needed to start and run an outdoor theater in India.
Climb up the shifting sand dunes of the Jockey's Ridge State park (is it the beach, or is it a desert?), climb up the 268 steps to the top of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse (and NOT pant, Hurray!), go the the Graveyard of the Atlantic museum (the museum is pretending hard to not be a Graveyard.) Take the ferry to Ocracoke, beach around.
Go parasailing at 1200 feet (that was it?), watch a Kite Flying festival, drive back from the Outerbanks, eat substandard garlicky Indo-Chinese food for the umpteenth time (we never learn), watch a crappy Bollywood movie while burping out garlicky burps.

Pass out.

Very Difficult

To believe in the inherent good in people.
Aren't some just born evil?

Light

...at the end of my laser converted into bits, captured, stored, backed-up, plotted, graphed and printed out. It works. It works.

A silver, or in this case, infrared lining, to a dark cloud is always a good thing.

More Excuses

It's raining cats, dogs and thunderstorms, and I already got drenched once.
So, biking will have to wait for sunnier days.

No excuses left

The cat's eye is installed
The rear reflector is now set.
The batteries are charged.
Tire pressure seems right.
The ambient temperature is conveniently 76 degrees.
The sun makes me squint just the right amount.

No excuses left,
To ride my bike.

Envying the plants on the other side of the fence

Why, oh why,
Do I want a garden so green?
I turn green looking at my neighbor's garden,
And my garden turns brown with shame.

Depressed Bird/ Dumb Bird? Suicidal Bird!

My colleague A- and I, walking from one building to another on-campus, came across a bird. Sort of looked like a pigeon, but we weren't sure. A sitting duck would be a more apt description.

It was on the road, leaning against the edge of the side walk. We walked a foot past it, and it did not budge. Both A and I noticed it, but it did not register in my head till A- said...Woah that is one calm bird. So we stopped. A- touched Bird, but it did not seem to care. No shaking, no palpitating chest.

A- and I circled it twisting our heads this way and that. Was it injured? Was it pregnant? Was Bird suffering from mid-life crisis? Maybe it was just lazy. Maybe it had brain surgery done to it in the lab next door, and had escaped. There were no signs of injury. Very strange. Maybe Bird was just sick, maybe just ate too much for lunch and couldn't move (I know that happens to Phaedrus, but he is human). I also nudged it a bit, and I could swear it gave me a look of utter boredom.

I tried to call a friend who knew about birds (same brain surgery lab ), but couldn't get through, so we were like...okay, guess there is nothing we can do. Sorry, Bird.

Just at that moment, a truck Roared past it. Barely 2 feet away. In fact, we quickly jumped on the sidewalk because we saw the truck coming. Bird did not Move. Not an inch. This Bird was dimwitted ! A crazy, suicidal Bird! That was it. I started pestering A- to pick up Bird from the road and put it on the sidewalk. Since it appeared that I was more scared to pick it up than he was, he agreed.

A- goes and puts his hand on Bird and about to pluck it off the ground, when it takes off and flies away, like any normal self-respecting Bird.

What a birdbrain.