Now that I have that small bit of horse out of my system (yeah right)  I will go on to talk about something else I find delightful.  My extraordinarily talented friend Lindsay  confessed to being "that kid" in class who defended technology as a inevitable component of the Humanities. I was impressed at her insight, and it also made me think of some of the great things I've seen at the Uvinersity of Uhat. (yes, I change the letters on purpose. I ain't gettin' google searched out of a job thankyouverymuch).  One of my favorite departments that I NEVER would have known about and NEVER set foot in is the Center of Integrative Biomedical Computing, which creates real time, 3 dimensional, maleable images of, well ANYTHING. Prepare to have your mind blown. mere students, humans in their late teens or early 20s, can build images using code of everything from maps of  comparative images of the Dark Universe  to  atmospheric changes over time  to the complicated interio

until THIS. I've watched this promo 7 times and it still makes me cry. 

I don't post political things here very often, but think of this more as applauding great rhetoric.  After Iran's leader Ahmadinejad claimed that "most americans agree with the view that 9/11 was an inside job aimed at saving Israel and the Zionist Movement"  the Americans walked out of the UN's auditorium.  Here's where it gets good. Mark Kornblau, spokesman of the U.S. Mission to the world body, issued a statement within moments of Ahmadinejad's attack: "Rather than representing the aspirations and goodwill of the Iranian people," he said, "Mr. Ahmadinejad has yet again chosen to spout vile conspiracy theories and anti-Semitic slurs that are as abhorrent and delusional as they are predictable." I don't know Mark Kornblau, but I like him.

My horse juice has been in 100% full gear mode for about a month now.  I'll give you a hint: It's probably better than beer.  What you need to know is this: The Universe is trying to tell me something. After 4 years of living in Salt Lake in College, the only time that I ever went riding was when I went home to Sanpete County to ride the solid paint horse, Duke, that my parents had for awhile.  He was an awesome horse who got me back on my feet after the trauma of Starr and a couple safe but jarring tumbles off my mom's wonderful but rambunctious gelding, Ralphy.  So for that, Dukers, thank you. Duke: But never, in the 4 years I was here, did anyone ever offer me a horse to ride.  Then I go to Virginia, I lease this amazing horse Murphy. All Murphy and I do for 2 or 3 times a week for 2 solid months is trot and gallop up down and around Manassas Battlefield until we're both pooped. No agenda, no fear, just good solid fun.  Something about that time changed me foreve

I'm almost too mortified to admit this, except that it seems a little ridiculous, and possibly entertaining for someone to read. So I'm admitting to this. The secretary brings in a big ass plate of cookies to the office.  How nice. It really is.  She offers one to me at her desk, and I want it, but I resist.  An hour later, SHE BRINGS THE COOKIES TO MY DESK, and again, in desperation to stick to my new healthy regimine of kicking crap and caffiene from my diet, I resist.  Not an hour later, she goes to lunch and says "could you watch the phones? and oh, if you change your mind, the cookies are still on my desk." I'm only human, people.  So I sneak into the kitchen to get a plastic knife and a napkin, come back, cut a cookie in half (which people in our office do ALL THE TIME) and take the napkin and the cookie to my desk, feeling satisfied and guilty.  Guilty for eating the calories, and NOTHING else.  The next thing I know, the secretary is back and whini

I’m hyperventilating. Not in a “call her therapist kind of way” but in a “she’s having too much fun, get her a paper bag and let her walk it off” kind of way. I have two enormous pieces of equine related news. I don’t care if you don’t know what I’m talking about, hear me out and read this, because this is amazing, you will learn something, and your life will be better for it. No, these are not horse races. These are not rodeos. The World Equestrian Games is the world championships of a variety of disciplines, from Vaulting- a gymnastic exercise on horseback  to Reining- a riding technique practiced in the Old West to train cowhorses  to Dressage- a series of composed movements which originated in military training techniques in the ottoman empire and Europe, and is one of the oldest sports in the world. Every 4 years, the World Equestrian Games brings all these disciplines together, and declares their world champions. It is as big of a deal to horsemen as the Olympic

Strange things are happening. It's Rosh Hashana, which is the Jewish New Year, and that is excellent.  My small and personal observance of the holiday may or may not have made me dream incessantly about Jewish things last night, including me telling a small hispanic boy who threatened to burn a Torah that "I dare you to, but you don't have the CHUTZPAH!"  and then proceeded to tell him that this country's very fibers were woven by the immigrants of every country, and his liberties were paid for on the burdened backs of my untiring Jewish ancestors. So apparently, in my own subconscious, I am an 83 year old yiddish woman from upstate New York. Actually, there is nothing surprising about that. Then when I woke up this morning there was a text from my Harvard/Peace Corps/Students First friend (let's call her Wonderwoman) and Wonderwoman has sent me a picture on her phone from a book of a ravine filled with ousted Jews from an "unknown soviet state"

In the course of the past couple of weeks, things have gotten exponentially better at my job. My productivity has gone through the roof, and the work that I’m producing is the caliber that I expect of myself. And sure enough, once I started truly committing myself to the research and to the letters and to each patron of the Uvinersity of Uhat that I am writing to, the number of errors, the amount of red ink, and the amount of worry has gone down. And as my confidence improves, the confidence is more apparent in my writing too, and I actually sound more like the accomplished middle aged white males I’m supposed to be writing on behalf of! It’s quickly turned into a beautiful cycle of success, and I’m starting to really enjoy my work. For cubicle work, it’s the most rewarding thing that I can imagine.   Today, I was given a truly great opportunity by my boss to interview the chairman of a committee here about his experiences as a student and philanthropist. The interview went superbly