Vegan things

Here are some delicious vegan things in San Diego.

1. Anything at Plumeria. It's in University Heights, and I am fairly certain there are at least two other good vegan restaurants nearby, though I haven't tried 'em yet. Plumeria is exclusively vegetarian, though some of their dishes contain dairy and other animal products. However, most (possibly all) of their dishes can be made vegetarian. I'm getting used to the idea of eating meat substitutes since moving here, mostly because fake duck is just so damn good.

2. Vegan chai donuts at Dark Horse. It's a tiny coffee shop in Normal Heights; I ended up there with a study buddy recently after the larger coffee shop down the street was too packed on a Sunday afternoon. Only a few seats, but not typically very crowded. The iced coffee with almond milk was good, too.

3. An extensive vegetarian menu including amazing homemade tofu at Dao Fu, formally Tao, also in Normal Heights. They don't give you the opportunity not to try their homemade tofu, in fact. You are given an on-the-house salad with the stuff the moment you sit down.

4. A third Normal Heights spot, LeStat's, has several vegan options, including vegetarian cupcakes and vegetarian chili. It's spicy and delicious. And the cupcakes taste like they are created from heaven. There's also a LeStat's in University Heights on Park.

5. North Park's Sipz is pretty much can-do-no-wrong vegan. I always get the same things and split with friends because they are so delicious I can't bring myself to order anything else: kung pao "chicken", the dynamite roll, the caterpillar roll, and sometimes a vegan red velvet cake slice. If you didn't think vegan sushi could be good, I dare you to try theirs. There are other Sipz locations, though I haven't tried them.

6. Many options at the Hillcrest Farmer's market on Sunday mornings, including vegan cheesecake. If you think you're being healthier by eating vegan sweets, beware; this baby is made pretty much wholly of oils from cashews. While delicious, they're not exactly non-fattening.

7. Roots, located on the UCSD campus, is almost surely one of the reasons UCSD consistently gets voted top vegan campus. My favorites: sweet potato fries, the Root burger, and the Hetch Hetchy.

Originally I had thought of making a new themed blog (I'm a fan of themes) in which I'd report on all sorts of restaurants in terms of their vegan-friendliness. It seems that perhaps there is not a large need for this (one can of course use Yelp! to search for veganness within a specific restaurant), so I'm holding off.

In other news, the quarter is drawing to a close, meaning that summer is drawing near! In San Diego, that means we are entering what I have heard named "June Gloom". Unfortunately, the month that is typically nicest in eastern cities is one of the saddest in the south of California. However, it seems to perk up in the afternoons, when the clouds have been clearing (at least recently). This afternoon it was still a bit cloudy when our softball team (which I am a part of almost only in name; I played in just one game this term), the Earthpigs, won the intramural championship game! ...by default, since the opposing team only showed 55 minutes late. No matter, we still won championship t-shirts (a first for me, in sports) and got to eat celebratory Popsicles. Snort snort snort.

Reunions

At some point in the last few years, I think it finally sank in for me (and likely for my parents) that "settling down" was something that would not happen for me in the near future, if ever. When I told my mom I had the best offer for continuing my PhD in California her response was something like "Well, if you have to go far away, we will just have come to you sometimes." Thinking back to when I was in high school and wondering if I would even get the chance to get out of the small town I grew up in for college, I feel incredibly fortunate to have such supportive and caring people in my life, my family chief among them.

So come to me they did, this past weekend -- some of my family, that is. Through a series of happy coincidences and last-minute decisions, my mom and her two siblings, as well as my uncle's wife, my cousin, and his fiancee, all trooped (some via car, some via plane) to southern California from various parts of the country and we had a multi-day mini-reunion. It was such a good feeling seeing all of them at the same time -- that hadn't happened since I could count my age on two hands. My uncle's family was only in town until Sunday, but we got a good three days to spend with them. My mom and aunt and I had more time, and we put it to good use. It's kind of fun being a sight-seer in your own city, particularly when you're new to it. We made it to see the seals in La Jolla Cove, to the gliderport up Torrey Pine Road and to hiking in Torrey Pines State Reserve, to the San Diego Zoo, to lunch at Harry's diner and fish tacos at Oscar's, and to shopping at more places that I knew were good including my favorite eclectic jewelry shop in La Jolla, a very girl shop in Pacific Beach, and the tourist-y yet diverse shops of Old Town.

In the midst of all of the chaos my mom managed to squeeze in a business meeting and I managed to finish writing a paper on methodologies in language research, take a final exam on behavioral genetics, have meetings in both labs (EEG and eyetracking) that I'll be working in next quarter, and (briefly) have a visit with a friend who was in San Diego from Boston for an interview. Not exactly a full work week, but it's spring break now so I have decided not to feel too guilty about it all.

Now it's off to Boston for some more reuniting. Not quite the confluence of people that so serendipitously occurred in San Diego this past week, but it does involve the arrival of another friend from Spain nearly simultaneously along with the return of yet another from Atlanta and yet another from a conference in South Carolina. As lucky as I am to have folks come visit me, it's fair enough that I should repay the visit once in a while.

Meanwhile, back in the lab...

 
Wednesdays are by far my favorite day of the week this quarter. Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays are filled with classes, meetings, and talks, but Wednesdays I can have pure, unadulterated time in the lab. Typically, this means I schedule a participant for the morning and take longer than most people doing things like running calibration pulses / cleaning up after / transferring and checking data / etc.  And sometimes it means I try my hand at data analysis afterward, which it did, today.  Around 4pm, I was about to leave to go study for an exam in a behavioral genetics class I'm taking this quarter, when I decided to try to catch our lab manager before he left for the evening. The reason why is a bit of a long story, but it wound up leading me to be in the lab until around 7:30pm, and it goes something like this...

1. There is a short, squat cabinet in the lab. In it is a key to a tall, typically-shaped filing cabinet. In the filing cabinet are documents that are relevant for the institutional board of review of our university with confidential information about participant identity, potentially linking individuals to code numbers. It is important to keep this kind of information under lock and key, but unfortunately, the cabinet in which this particular key resides is fussy.

2. I am particularly poor at opening said cabinet and today it became jammed while I was trying. I therefore ended up with two documents that needed to go in the locked filing cabinet, but could not get to the key in the short squat cabinet to unlock it.

3. Our lab manager is a bit of a magician (i.e., good at making things work), and so I knew he could get the door open. It turns out that an hour, a lab manager, and two graduate students (including one with some twine and paperclip skills), and some dislodging later, we finally got the cabinet open.

4. Whew!, thought I. Papers in filing cabinet, filing cabinet locked, key back in the original cabinet, home free. Yes? No.

5. In the meantime, I had noticed that the calibration files I had so painstakingly recorded earlier had some abnormalities. Namely, "Channel 18 cals are might weenie," according to our home-grown lab software. So I re-ran the calibration pulses and this time they came out perfectly.

6. However, just as team Us had finished with the filing cabinet fiasco, a senior member of the lab walked in and immediately witnessed our "up-to-no-good" looks.

7. This led to a conversation with said senior member involving the wonky cal pulses. And he suggested attempting to find the root of the problem, which honestly seemed pretty reasonable. So I ran the cals with the channel 18 headbox pin on a couple of different settings, neither of which ended up being to explain the original wonky results.

8. However, in the process of finishing up the second test set of cals, I managed to jerk my hand into a very fragile wire in the process of pulling out the cable for the calibration box. Meaning that it broke. The very fragile wire, that is. It was of course connected to a rather spaghetti-like configuration of rainbow wires that all had to be replaced at once and re-configured to their appropriate places in the headbox.

9. ...and the replacement happened to be in the original short squat cabinet which (thank goodness!) we again had access to.

10. And after much fretting and breathing deeply and double checking, the rainbow-ribbon-y array of channels was re-mapped, I learned several lessons about the magic of EEG, and my handwriting now resides upon channels #18-29 (+ iso ground, the original culprit) in the white room of this particular lab at UCSD. Best part? Adviser's response to my email detailing all of this was that she was glad I saw it as a learning experience. Yes, yes indeed.

Return to their unnatural coasts

The last month, in addition to featuring Christmas, Hanukkah, other-holidays-some-of-which-might-include-a-flying-spaghetti-monster, and a whole new year, also featured a whole bunch of zooming around the country for me. Unlike Paul Simon, neither my first or final destination would I call my "natural coast" (see also this album). I, in fact, have no natural coast, and that point was destination #2.

First off was some time spent in Bostonia. Rather than trying to convey the slew of emotions that being back evoked, I will just say that it was really lovely to just be in the city again, and of course even lovelier to see so many wonderful familiar faces. There was a lot of walking around in the cold rain (even that part was kind of refreshing, honestly), many tasty meals shared with good folks, multi-night B11 live band karaoke madness, hot chocolate and bananagrams, A Christmas Carol AND the Nutcracker, an apple-fetching excursion, and some hair-slaying (I now have a bob).

And then it was time for my natural un-coast, or rather, the place where I'm from, Indiana. This trip definitively marked the longest period of time I'd spent at home since moving away nearly nine years ago -- I was back in Kokomo for nearly two and a half weeks. The trip feature some work (more than I had expected; less than I had hoped), some reading, a lot of hanging out with my sisters, some game-playing, some old-friend-seeing (including some folks I hadn't seen in many a moon), the viewing of a spectacular Indiana-grown independent film made by some friends called The Legend of Green Sock, a touch of karaoke on New Year's Eve, and a great deal of time spent in the presence of my cat. I was feeling a bit stir-crazy toward the end at times, but it was utterly relaxing and really nice.

Since being back in California, courses have resumed (best quote from a neuroscientist yet this year: "we may  have some issues, but at least we're not out of jobs, like physicists"), labwork has resumed (including the fairly successful running of a participant in an EEG experiment), I have talked about twin studies to a class of would-be geneticists, and I have learned about a project in Senegal educating women about the dangers of not interacting (read: speaking) with their children at early stages, i.e., not taking advantage of all that young brain plasticity!

In other news: life continues on the other coast and a part of the other coast is coming to me in February! Hopefully before then some serious chunks of science will happen. More on that later...

Northeast to Southwest

During my time as a Cantabrigian, I took some care to try to explore the northeast nook of the country.  Most of this exploration was restricted to the sunny (and not-quite-so-scholarly) months of the summer.  Lots of trips to NYC (short bus ride away), one brief venture to Montreal for the jazz festival, some trips to the White Mountains (among other mountains) in New Hampshire, a bit of time on island with the flora and fauna of Martha's Vineyard, skiing in Maine and Vermont, and even a short journey to Provincetown on the tip of the Cape (grâce à my old adviser).

One thing that slowly dawned on me after a few weeks living in San Diego is that there are such mini-adventures to be had around here as well, if not so densely packed in as in the Northeast.  The first evidence of this was provided by the camping adventure of a few weeks ago, and over the past week I have had quite a bit of additional evidence.

First, a visit to the city of angels (a first for me) because friends from the East Coast were around.  Only a couple of parts (the downtown area, mostly, and a bit of Koreatown, where I stayed) did I really explore, so I'm excited to go back and delve in sometime soon.  The best part was decidedly renting bikes to go down from Santa Monica to Venice Beach (not the last Venice I'd experience in the week).  Absolutely lovely... See picture above, down a teensy little crook of a pathway between lots of houses over-flowing with plants (in the good way).  Somehow I never feel as though the beaches of SD are that available to me, when I really should be making more of them.  Biking around the area's a bit difficult (maybe easier once I bring back Yoshi?) and I hate the idea of driving to the beach -- for some reason it just seems worse than driving other places.  As if the beach is this totally amazing natural phenomenon that I'm lucky enough to live near and then... I have to drive there.  I may crack eventually and decide to move far away enough to live by the beach peaceably, but then I'd have to drive to school...  File under overprivileged guilt, or something.  And just guilt at luckiness.  It really is beautiful here.

A second recent southwest meandering led me to Vegas. V. (former roommate V., not current classmate V.) flew into L.A. the last day I was there, and after a couple of days in San Diego, we headed out for Thanksgiving in Las Vegas.  A weirder Thanksgiving did never I spend.  I've been describing the trip as a great Vegas-y trip (total experience without getting too nuts) but a not-so-great Thanksgiving-y trip (buffet at the Rio had some great stuffing but sheesh, so not the same).  However: It was indeed a fabulous first go at Vegas, and I came away with some first-timer tips:

1. First and foremost: find your place in the gambling sun.  For some, this might involve the sexy cabaret dancers at Paris; for others, the casino next to the amazingly re-created northern Italy setting at the Venetian; and for still others, the sophistication of Caesar's palace.  But when we saw our place, we knew it: Bill's Gamblin' Hall.  After a few minutes at the roulette table we were SURE we had found it -- not only did V.'s $1 bet on black 31 pay off (40 to 1 odds!) immediately, but we were also lucky enough to find a place with karaoke until 2 in the morning our first night there.

2. Leave the table once you quit doing well.  A lucky streak is a beautiful thing; once you feel like you're leaning away from that local maxima, go to a new table (or cash out).

3. Go to at least one truly Vegas show.  We may have hated ourselves a bit for it, but a woman sporting 10 hula hoops at once and a lover/roller-skater duo topped with a juggling pianist isn't a scene to be had just anywhere.

4. Don't pay for any drinks.  There will be plenty of free ones.

5. But don't get too drunk.  And if you do, go home.

A ukulele, an Oedipus complex, and a pomegranate

So play your favorite Beatles song

And make the subway fall in love

They're only $19.95, that isn't lots of money

Play until the sun comes up

And play until your fingers suffer

Play LCD Soundsystem songs on your ukulele

Quit the bitching on your blog

And stop pretending art is hard

Just limit yourself to three chords

And do not practice daily

Better words were rarely spoken.  And thus came into existence my desire to own a bright green ukulele (in bright green case!) shown above.  Apparently Amanda Palmer is not the only one to have written a song about the ukulele -- Stephin Merritt is also excited about ukuleles (me-kuleles?).

There are two primary reasons I decided it was time to own a ukulele.  And two corollaries.

Reason 1: It is simple to play.  Simpler than the guitar, which I would like to play soon.
Corollary 1.1: I found out it only takes 3 chords to play "Absolutely Cuckoo," one of my favorite Magnetic Fields' 69 Love Songs, and that's amazing.
Corollary 1.2: One of the reasons that I want to learn to play guitar is that I once wrote a song (in a moment of doom and gloom... mostly gloom) and I want to be able to play.  Somehow the piano just doesn't cut it.

Reason 2: It cost less than $15.
Corollary 2: Amanda Palmer has sanctioned ukuleles BECAUSE they only cost about $15.  Ok, according to her, $19.95 (and in an interview, that's "plus tax"), and also because of Reason 1: seriously, just learn THREE DAMN CHORDS.

Ok, I think that's enough about ukuleles for now.  On to Oedipus complexes.

In our core cognitive science class (that I have referred to before), we discussed the idea of "conceptual blends" this past week.  Related to metaphor, but not quite the same, conceptual blends involve the simultaneous use of two concepts in a single description.  Fictive motion is once example -- for instance, "trees running down the side of the river" blends the concept of a physical line of trees with the concept of an objet moving down the line.

Well, The Gospel at Colonus was a spiritual (in the musical sense, not necessarily the religious sense) retelling of the second play by Sophocles of Oedipus, after his arrival at Colonus post-gouging-out-his-eyes-upon-realizing-he'd-killed-his-dad-and-screwed-his-mum.  Woops.  A preacher simultaneously took on the role of storyteller and enacter, quoting "verses" which ended up being lines from the drama about Oedipus.  It was a blend of a church service, complete with (amazing!) gospel choruses and bible readings, and of the drama of Oedipus, where Oedipus at times became a Jesus figure, nearly seeming to wander the desert, and his daughters become virgin-Mary-like figures.

It was a play I saw with a friend at the San Diego Continuing Education Educational Cultural Complex (which was a fantastic space!) put on by the Ira Aldridge Repertory Players -- a friend of his was acting in the show, and did a stand-up job.  What was so cool was that there were many San Diego groups involved -- a jazz band, a men's quartet, a gospel chorus, individual soloists and actors... very impressive.

Item #3, the pomegranate, probably sounds the lamest but I'd claim stands an equal ground with fantastic local shows and acquisition of new instruments.  Here is a top-ten-type list of Things Noticed Whilst Eating A Pomegranate.

1. Pomegranates are Active Fruits. (You have to work to eat them!)
2. Plants and animals share some really strange apparently homologous features. (The thin layers of "skin" between seeds in a pomegranate truly _must_ echo the epithelial layers of animals, RIGHT?)
3. Corn kernels and pomegranate seeds are SO SIMILAR.  (Seriously... they are pretty much exactly the same size and very nearly the same consistency.)
4. Pomegranates are neighborly fruits. (I say this because I was invited to share a pomegranate, presumably because eating one is so much damn work that you want a companion in the process.)
5. Pomegranates are SO DIFFERENT FROM OTHER CITRUS FRUITS. (As I typed this I started thinking, hmm... I really hope pomegranates are _actually_ citrus fruits!)
6. Meat rocks maybe aren't that weird after all. (See this article published this past summer.)

Ok, think that's all I got for now.

Becoming a Californian

Shocking, but the longer I live here in Southern California, the more I'm convinced that I actually live here (and that it's not some elaborate dream I'm involved in or some very serious summer camp that I've decided to undertake as an adult).  More evidence to this conclusion came this week when I finally broke down and made it a priority to procure a legitimate digital piano from the bowels of Craigslist.  In addition the choir I joined as soon as I got here in mid-September performed their concert with full orchestra (C.P.E. Bach's Magnificat -- C.P.E., for short, just like "Ben" for "Benjamin," as our lively director put it).  You can't be owning digital pianos and singing in choirs with full-on orchestras unless you actually live in the damn city.

In further evidence, today involved the acquisition of a whole lotta Californian documentation.  Including (but not limited to) license plates for my car (though they expire before the current plates, grr), registration, a title, and some sad piece of paper that passes for a driver's license (they let me keep my Mass license, though it now has a hole through it, just like my heart).  In good news, I managed to miss exactly six questions on the written driver's test I had to take, which is the maximum number of items you can miss and pass (perfection!).

Ah, yes.  Also in other good news, the probabilistic linguistics class I'm in had a great little bit in the homework assignment that was due today.  In the end I think I misinterpreted part of it, which, if true, actually makes the problem even better.  Essentially we were to compute the power (i.e. the sensitivity to a true difference) for detecting the difference between two datasets pulled from two distributions with true underlying differences in mean and/or variance.  Neat, right!?

In other news, tonight a friend of mine and I bailed on our typical Tuesday-night activity of volleyball (with the world- ... ok, UCSD-famous EARTHPIGS of the cognitive science department) and hiked up (hike = drive in SoCal) to Solana beach to see the Devil Makes Three, one of the only "cool" bands I purport to know anything about, play at a place called BellyUp, which was a great venue (though we nearly got knocked over by some overly zealous-turned-angry moshers).  Band was awesome, as usual -- I saw them (once? twice) at Middle East (pretty sure twice) in Cambridge, which is a tiny venue and really great (typically leads to chatting with the band after, if you are so inclined), and once in Brooklyn back in the days of attempting to escape from Boston to NYC as often as possible (aka my second year of grad school).  Either this crowd was a lot rowdier, or I'm just getting old.