Moment of Joy

Wait a minute... it's November?!?! But... what happened to October? You see, this is what I get for ignoring the entire month of September and pretending it doesn't exists; suddenly the end of the year sneaks up on you.

Anyway, I thought I'd post a Moment of Joy from waaaaay back. Now that I think about it, this picture is 6 years old. Holy crow! How did I get so old?!?!

This is from a series of pictures I took during my first semester of my undergrad career, a bright eyed and bushy tailed freshman. I loved that lake on campus. I spent a lot of time walking or just sitting by it, watching the geese and red-winged black birds, the beaver or just the way the water rippled in the wind. It sounds overly poetic, but I just liked being very still and watching things by the lake.

So here is an autumnal photo from years ago. I bet if I were by that lake now, it'd look very much the same.

Crockpot Beef Stew

Rabbit Rabbit!

My maternal grandfather, Papa, has always been an inspiration to me; my earliest memories of him are in the kitchen, tasting whatever he was cooking. There is no meal in the world more delectable than Papa's broccoli-rabe, beef stew and his own invention, potato pie. My offhanded, handful of  this, handful of that cooking style is a direct result of watching him throw whatever is on hand into a pot and creating something spectacular.

My quest into graduate school is also inspired by him. When I was little I was slightly awed by him and how he can talk about any subject with authority. He tells the most incredible stories about his childhood, time in the Navy, career as a police officer and everything in between. When I was in college and studying the court system he'd lend be books on Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes and landmark Supreme Court decisions. His passion for learning and desire for me to get the best education possible is one of the main reasons I went to grad school.

Consider this improvised beef stew recipe as an ode to Papa and a learning experience!

Crockpot Beef Stew
1 pound of cubed beef stew meat (or more if desired)
4 large potatoes
4 cloves garlic, chopped or pressed
1 tbs paprika (I don't have it on hand and usually substitute with taco seasoning)
2 tbs soy sauce (or Worcestershire)
1 onion, chopped
1 1/2 cups beef broth (or whatever, bullion and water works, too)
1 cup wine (red or white, you pick)
2 carrots, cut into sticks (or chopped in a food processor to save you time)
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 cup homemade tomato sauce (or 4 chopped fresh tomatoes)
Grind to a Salt (have you noticed I love this stuff?)
Freshly ground black pepper
Some flour

Combine broth, wine, soy sauce, tomatoes, brown sugar, paprika, some seasoned salt and pepper in the slow cooker and set to high (4-6 hours cook time) or low (8-10 hours cook time) depending on when you want to eat.

Wash, peel and chop potatoes, carrots, onion and garlic. Throw them into the broth.

Take your stew meat and put it into a zip-lock bag. Sprinkle some flour over it and salt and pepper it a bit. Close the bag and give it a good shake to coat the meat (or, in the words of Weasel, "Shake it like a Polaroid picture!"). Throw this in the fridge for a few minutes while you drag out a frying pan and add just enough olive oil to coat the bottom on the pan and let the flame heat it up on high. Toss in the now coated meat and saute until nice and brown. It doesn't have to be cooked all the way, because  you will now throw it into the slow cooker with all the rest to continue cooked. Make sure the pot is covered, and walk away (cocktails, anyone?).

Enjoy!

Note: The measurements in this recipe are arbitrary. I usually just pour, sprinkle, toss and add according to my whim, what I have in the fridge, and what kind of flavor I am looking for. The beauty of this method? I have a base recipe I can work with, and I also have the freedom to experiment!

Project Hera: On Hold

Darn, and just when I was really getting into it, too! I'm sorry to say that Project Hera has been postponed for at least a few weeks, but at least with good cause.

It turns out that Weasel needed the book more than I do. As we pack her and her spinning wheel off to college, she's really worried that she won't make friends, won't fit in, isn't attractive... all fears I can debunk in about half a second, but let's face it: hearing it and believing it are totally separate things.

As much as I want to just sit Weasel down and tell her that in college there are no popular kids, and the people who were losers in high school meet all the other losers from high school and suddenly no one is a loser anymore and you have friends who know and love you. Hey, I met Super Boy the first day of college, so anything is possible!

But Weasel needs to learn all of this for herself. And I want her to feel as confident and self-assured as possible, so my copy of Seven Days to Sex Appeal is now (temporarily) in her hands. What does she hope to gain from it? Well, that's her business, but I get the feeling that, like me sadly, she just needs a boost in her assertiveness, self-confidence and just become more aware of herself in general.

So go forth and learn Weasel, and who knows? Maybe you can teach me a thing or two!

What you need to know about your physician assistant student...

I'm fairly certain I've mentioned the Super Boy is studying to become a physician assistant but I never told you that he's a blogger, too. In fact, his blog on pre-physician assistant students has become quite popular in some circles!

While offering unique insights into the student experience, however, he has neglected to discuss what the experience is like for those around them, especially family and significant others. This, I feel, warrants some information,explanation and advice on my part, as I am very well aware how grueling this program can be...

You'll be alone even if you are sitting in the same room as your student. This might be the hardest part. A student can be so focused on their work for hours at a time, every night for weeks, until you might as well be in a room by yourself. You might also get more conversation by talking to yourself, too. I haven't found a good way to combat this feeling yet, but I think it's worth knowing about. The best advice I can offer on this point is to make sure our student sets aside some time for activities that you both enjoy and can participate in without thinking about your workloads. Quality time is scare, so use it wisely!

You'll be taken for granted, even if they don't mean to. I have seen Super Boy take a plate of dinner I'd spent hours making and start to tuck in without ever taking his eyes off of his computer screen and his radiology scans. He'll drop dirty scrubs and clothes and books all over the apartment I'd spent all day cleaning. And yeah, it makes me mad, but I know he doesn't mean to do it. His head is so full of pharmacology, H&P's,  and anatomy that he's drained at the end of the day and blind to a lot of the little things that are happening in the background. Try not to take it too personally, but gently point these things out if they are really bothering you.

Be patient and supportive with your student, but don't hesitate to give them a swift and loving kick in the pants if they start to get snippy with you or too critical of themselves. It takes a lot of faith to wade through all the dysfunction, and you need to be there to act as a guinea pig for their physical exams, quiz-masters for flashcards and general cheerleader when their spirits get down. But it's just as important they you do not let them take their frustration and anxiety out on you, and it's counter productive to let them beat up on themselves. Be firm, positive, honest and assure them that everything will be okay.

The good times will be really good. I know I might sound like this is a miserable, heartbreaking program, and some days it can be, but when things are good they are really good. For instance, when Super Boy and I were in Disney World, we were so deliriously happy and spent every moment together. The fact that the week was sandwiched between very busy weeks made it all the more special. You can expect every day to be a fairy tale, but the fairy tales you do have are extra sweet!

I hope this gives some comfort and insight to those who love physician assistant students, and who knows? Maybe I'll get Super Boy to be a guest blogger and offer his side of the story...

What is Criminological Theory and Why Does it Matter?

So the semester has started up again, and so has all the nonsense. Toad is being Toad, bragging about a "grant" that isn't all that much to brag about, because I doubt the existence any such thing. And, of course, professors are being professors, adding "last minute" books that we need for yesterday ( and are hundreds of dollars to boot) and handing out syllabi that make no sense (there are only 14 weeks in a semester). So the typically stress has started up again, and the petty annoyances are just that: petty and annoying. In the end, I'll laugh, I'll cry, I'll freak out and I'll work my butt off. And I'll be fine after all.

Obviously, grad school is very different from college, and a PhD program is going to be different from a master's program. But in the end, the subject matter is the same: criminal justice is the study of crime and practitioners in the field, and criminology is the study of the causes of crime. This is an oversimplification; the real definition is amorphous and intricate and there is no one right answer, making it a bit difficult to explain to the layman (or just wrap your head around in general). I have this problem with my family and friends quite often, particularly my grandmother. She is thrilled to have a grandduaghter working towards a PhD, thrilled beyond belief. But she has no real understanding of the material, just a general sense of what I might be working on at any given time. And that is perfectly normal.

So why does theory matter? If it's so hard to pin point and there are so many conflicting views, then why bother? Well, in order to try and change crime, you need to know what causes it. For instance, let's say there is a burning building. You could just throw water on it and be done. But that might be a temporary fix; what caused the building to light on fire in the first place? What is the root cause? By identifying the cause of the fire, you know whether you have to shut of the gas lines, find an arsonist, or take that pack of matches from the toddler. You see? In order to fix a problem, you need to identify what's causing the problem.

If you think crime is caused by biological factors, then identifying a "crime gene" or medicating offenders will fix crime. If you think it is a matter of social inequalities an upheaval, then social programs and community involvement will stop crime. And if you think that crime is a function of the ruling class's oppression of the under class, then the redistribution of wealth and power within society is the answer. These are by no means the only theories out there, but I think it illustrates the point. If you want to change something, you need to know what needs to be fixed first.

If you are looking for books on criminological theory, I have two to recommend. The first is Cullen and Agnew's Criminological Theory: past to present. Unlike other tests that just summaries theories, this work offers the original articles that have become landmarks in the study of criminology. There is also a very handy grid in the first few The second is my personal favorite, Lilly, Cullen and Ball's Criminological Theory: Context and Consequence. Again, unlike other textbooks this work offers not just the theories, but the social, economic, political and cultural climate and changes that prompted new theories to develop. There are also discussions on whether these theories worked, and the long lasting effects of programs implemented on these recommendations. I personally felt that the chronological structure of this book, complete with the historical subtexts, gave me a greater understanding of where the theories came from and what they were a reaction to.

Theory may not be my favorite facet of my studies, but it's an important one. In order to understand where you are going, yo need to know what came before you. Happy theorizing!

Moment of Joy

Inspired by several awesome photoblogs, I've decided to take a crack at it myself. I can't always post a whole article, but I'd love to share these photos with you. Moment of Joy is my little way of sharing images that just make me happy, from any number of sources and venues. I hope they make you happy, too!

This first edition of Moment of Joy features one of my favorite pictures ever. This is Edinburgh at about 9 or 10 pm, just after I left a tour in Mary King's Close. I traveled there two summers ago for a college course and was amazed at how early the sun rose, how late it set, and how utterly gorgeous this city was, especially the colorful, modern, funky storefronts topped with century old buildings. Just thinking about that trip makes my heart soar. I think I am a misplaced Scot at heart!

Love your neighbor…

I rarely talk about religion, and with good reason. My mother always told me there are three things you never talk about in public: money, politics and religion. It's not a matter of having no opinion on the subject, or being ashamed of what you believe; my silence is a matter of self preservation. And, in a way, it makes me stronger and maybe even a little better as a person. Rather than spend time arguing with others and trying to make them see my side of things, I try listen to what others have to say regardless of whether or not I agree. Most of the time I nod and smile and move on. Sometimes I learn something. Regardless, I don't feel the need to push what I think is right onto others.

But the Lenten season has just started, and as a practicing Catholic (at least in theory) I am taking the time to reexamine my life and the way I live. So talking a little about religion is kind of required. There are a lot of aspects of religion I question, or just outright disagree with. I think that while God is infallible and always has a plan in mind, people definitely make mistakes. So while I have faith and believe in many things, I don't accept outright some of the Church's more modern teachings. I believe that Jesus had the right idea. God loves everyone, period. We are all made equal in His eyes. He is forgiving and never gives up on people. All in all, He's a pretty cool guy.

Anyway… I digress. Recently I have been considering one of the cornerstone tenants of the New Testament: "Love your neighbor as you love yourself." Simply speaking, treat those around you the way you want to be treated. I'm pretty sure I've been hearing that since Pre-K. But I will be the first to admit that I don't always follow it that closely. I have a short fuse and less-than-perfect people skills. I am not a big fan of humanity as a whole. People in large crowds can be incredibly stupid. One on one they can be just as bad. I have a low tolerance for idiocy.

My most recent and aggravating example of this is my interaction with Sally the Slut and my neighbor Bam Bam. Easy to love they are not. A few nights ago they woke me up not with sex but with conversation. A loud one. At 2 in the morning. I suppose I should be thankful considering their normal pursuits, but I had to be at my internship early the next morning and my nerves were worn thin to begin with. This was the last thing I needed. By 4 a.m. I hit my limit; I stomped down the stairs and knocked on Bam Bam's door. When he answered (in a revolting state of undress that is just too traumatizing to record here) he seemed angry at me, as if I were disturbing him rather than the other way around. After a short and sharp conversation I went back to bed. But it bothered me. True, they were in the wrong to act so selfishly at the expense of everyone else in the house, but did I do the right thing? Yes, it fixed the problem. But I think Jesus would have taken this in stride, maybe used a parable to get his point across rather than a scowl and sarcasm. So maybe I should try to be a bit more patient and a little more understanding of the people around me. And maybe I should forgive people, no matter how inconsiderate they are.

Then again, Jesus never had to live in a college dorm. Maybe if he did "love your neighbor" would have a few exceptions to the rule…

The background story…

So some background information is probably in order. I am a twenty-something criminology major at a pretty selective state school in the mid-Atlantic region (no specifics here, folks). The department of criminology here is… volatile at best. Lots of regime changes, name changes and, I'll admit it, grandfathering in old to make life easier. Apparently I came in just as things began to get straightened out, and I really have thrived here. I have a great mentor, and I have done very well academically (dumb luck mostly). Suddenly I find myself about to graduate and desperately trying to throw together an exit strategy.

Considering I have been spending the majority of the past few months trying to get into PhD programs, I haven't actually searched for jobs. So there is no plan B if plan A falls through. Oops. And, because I am a sucker for punishment, I am also interning at state and federal organization (I'd tell you where, but then I'd have to kill you… no… really). Oh yeah, and I am on the campus EMS squad. And I get sucked into doing all kinds of extra things that are time consuming and make me want to pull my hair out.

So, hi. I'm rozzie bear, a walking ball of over-stressed and overbooked nerves.

But I am lucky in many respects. Firstly, I am pretty darn smart. Not by any real hard work, just good luck and good genes. So the whole grad school thing might be a real possibility. And I have a great family. They're all insane, of course. Family reunions, especially the big holidays, are more like feeding time on the psych ward. But they really are the most loving and supportive (if dysfunctional and gossipy) family around. I may say I'm the lone white sheep in a herd of black ones, but I say it with lots of love… most of the time…

And then there's Super Boy. Super Boy and I met on the first day of college and we have been friends ever since. About two years ago he and I finally got around to dating, and things have never been so good. I know, it sounds disgustingly saccharine. Can't help it though. Even on my worst days (and there are a lot of those) I've got Super Boy to cheer me up, keep me sane and keep me going. Without him I'd probably be even more of a mess than usual.

So there you go. That's me in a nutshell (emphasis on the nut)… So now I just have to figure out what happens next. I probably should do some research… or at least some homework. But no. I'd much rather nap. Oh well. So much for all that drive and ambition.

So about this blogging thing…

I hear it's a kind of catharsis. You know, like you write down all the things that are buzzing around your head and then, by some magical blogging healing powers, you are suddenly cured. I am less then sure about all this, but why not? I figure I need a reason to procrastinate (more than I already do) and why not a blog?

So…about that catharsis… How am I supposed to feel better about moving out, leaving my parents behind, and setting up my life in some nondescript apartment? How am I supposed to juggle a relationship with massive overdoses of homework and research? Who is going to teach me to pay bills? And where am I supposed to get the money to pay them in the first place? I am a college senior without a clue, a plan, and just the barest sense of a prayer. I am figuring it out as I go… and writing it down along the way. I just wish someone had warned me about all this.

When did I suddenly have a life? What is this "responsibility" thing I keep hearing about? Since when am I a grownup?