Lemons can make more than lemonade.

A quick update since it's been so long:

I've been unusually busy with grad school and the work-study position I recently started, but somehow, I've found a way to strike a balance between academics, work, and a semi-existent social life (at least when my schedule permits). Currently, I'm also reading T.R. Reid's newest book, The Healing of America: A Global Quest for Better, Cheaper, and Fairer Health Care, which is a perfect complement to the Frontline documentary that PBS featured a little over a year ago. You can watch the full program, Sick Around the World, on their website.

Points of note during the past week or so include going to hear my grad school department chair, Kenneth Thorpe, present a brief in which he discussed the most latest amendments to the health care reform bill (click here for a pdf of the briefing); and partaking in a few Emory Homecoming activities during the past week (e.g., the entertaining styling of comedian, and now actor, Aziz Ansari).

Given some recent discussions I've had with colleagues and my desire to further develop my ongoing interests in public health, health care, and research, I've begun to seriously consider the merits of a future in science writing. I think handling unforeseen changes in professional aspirations and overcoming never-before encountered adversity is part of growing up, whether you actually have a handle on any of it or not. It's part of recognizing that adulthood, despite its much sought-after privileges and supposedly lessened limitations, also comes with the rude awakenings of reality: that pursuing what you love calls not only for a resilient resolve but commitment, responsibility, and practicality.

As the saying goes, "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade." But if lemons are opportunities in disguise, who's to say you can't set your sights on the best of the best? I'd rather shoot for something that might bring more fulfillment in the long run, and my experiences this year are starting to show me that you can do a lot more with the lemons you're dealt if you're willing to think outside the box (or the cutting board, in the case of this analogy).
Correction appended (10/3/2009): When I first made this post a few days ago, I incorrectly stated that I was interested in science journalism and not science writing. While the two professions are similar, there is a distinction: all journalists are writers, but all writers are not journalists. To quote Michael Kenward, a previous editor of New Scientist, "Science writing is about explaining complex ideas that nobody wants to keep secret; science journalism is about explaining things that everyone can understand but that some might prefer to keep buried."

*Information on science writing from "So You Want To Be A Science Writer?" by Natasha Loder, Science and Technology Correspondent for The Economist (Spring 2002). You can download the full text (pdf) on the Association of British Science Writers' website.

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Et si s'aimer ce n'était pas regarder dans la même direction...

... mais fermer les yeux et voir la même chose.
- Quote in one of the ads posted in a métro car on the RER B

Belated updates from Week 4:

Monet's Gardens in Giverny

Sorry, I've been a bit M.I.A. lately. Here are a few brief and noteworthy recaps from this past week (a.k.a., the week of my 21st birthday & the amazing Fête de la Musique!)

On Monday, after classes, I saw my first movie (Sunshine Cleaning, with Amy Adams) in a French movie theater. Even though the film was in English, it was definitely a different experience because the French viewers in the audience didn't always react as expected to moments of irony or particularly comedic scenes. Wouldn't really recommend the film to anyone, though...

On Tuesday, I was thanked for the creation and subsequent success of Slumdog Millionaire. While I was getting dinner at the cafeteria on Cité Universitaire's campus, a jovial, middle-aged French man came up to me in the dessert aisle and struck up a hilarious conversation, in French, of course. After announcing his disappointment because "il n'y a pas de mousse chocolat!"/there wasn't any chocolate mousse left, he asked me if I was Indian. I responded a bit hesitantly, because I didn't understand why he was talking to me - and then, in rapid-fire French (i.e., what sounded like gibberish to me) he exclaimed something about "Slumdog". At first, I started blankly at him, with a confused look on my face, and then he asked, more slowly, "Tu n'as pas vu cette film?" (Haven't you seen that movie?). I realized he was talking about Slumdog Millionaire, so I said, "Oh, oui, Slumdog Millionaire." And, then he said that it was a fantastic and moving film, and he thanked me for the movie. Great end to an otherwise uneventful day.

What I do when I'm bored in class (which happens often... click on it for the best view)

On Wednesday, I bought a cute new dress from a boutique near our classroom location. The place, called MiM, is apparently a UK chain that recently expanded to international markets in Belgium, France, and Ireland.

Thursday afternoon was spent muddling around Palais de la Découverte with the rest of my study abroad group and then buying some cool artsy postcards (a new collection that was just released in Paris) from a newstand near a métro stop on the way back to my dorm. I'll try and post pictures soon, if I can get my camera to come alive again...

A bee in a flower in Monet's garden in Giverny

On Friday, our group took a trip to Giverny, where Monet's gardens (the classic water gardens with lily ponds and amazing floral scenery) and home are located. The entire area was incredibly picturesque, so much so that every photo I took looked as though I used Photoshop to enhance the graphics. We had a huge lunch at a really nice restaurant (Les Nympheas/The Lilies), and then I had my first pain aux raisins (instead of my usual pain au chocolat) from the boulangerie near my dorm. The best part, though, was ending up at the Seine after dinner that same night and celebrating my 21st birthday precisely at midnight. We met a few French business students who had studied abroad in the U.S. - all the people we met were genuinely interesting, witty, and charming, and we had a great time with them - and, exactly when the clock struck minuit, they all sang "Happy Birthday" to me in French and English. Everyone decided I should try something new and fun on my birthday, so one of the guys in the French group playfully pulled me over to the part of the river bank where musicians were performing and Parisians were dancing. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), he was gay and a really good dancer. Those two facts may or may not be inter-connected...

Dancing by the Seine on my 21st

... recaps of the rest of the weekend (complete with entertaining stories about birthday escapades and Fête de la Musique events) are to come...

In the meantime, here's a fantastic and classy music video to keep you entertained! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1_CLW-NNwc

Post-script: It's been brought to my attention that the link probably won't work if you're not in France... so just YouTube "Ok Go A Million Ways" and watch the first music video that comes up in the search results!

Sometimes beginnings aren't so simple.*

College was good. College was bad. College was easy and college was difficult. College was crazy and apathetic, exhilarating and boring, surprising and predictable, painful and reassuring. It was nothing and it was everything.

As humans, we have an often-unrealized desire to define our experiences with labels, to assign singular categories to pluralities, and to endeavor to simplify incomprehensibly complex phenomena. Classifications bring about a superficial sense of stability, but they often fail to provide a truly accurate representation of the events in our lives.


I remember freshman year like it was just yesterday: the boys crowding into our iconic Smith 114 room, never ceasing to exasperate, entertain, enlighten, and, ultimately, endear us all through the unpredictability of their actions; the late-night conversations about love long-lost and life lessons learned and all that the uncertain future might hold; and, most of all, the ways in which we allowed ourselves to fall, to tumble to the ground in uncontrollable laughter and collapse into each other’s arms in irrepressible tears, because we knew we had a family of friends that would find a way to pull us back up in the end.

And, yet, at the very same time, it feels so long ago.


It’s as if yesterday was both a recent present and a distant past – composed of a million unforgettable, undeniable memories – memories that continually resurface when I least expect it. The nostalgia hits when I unconsciously breathe in the pages of a newly-published book in true Namrata-fashion, when the off-key recordings of Ashwin’s guitar-playing and singing randomly come on my iTunes, and especially when someone yells “EXPECTO PATRONUM” in a Harry Potter movie.

For me, the smallest things have always held the strongest meanings; and now, more than ever, they give me something to hold onto until we see each other again. College was more than the sum of my classes, and definitely much more than my GPA and my GRE or MCAT scores. It was four years of intricately intertwined, unquantifiable moments – moments that defined me even though I can’t define them.

In the meantime, I can look forward to detecting honesty in games of mafia, spending an amazing six weeks in Paris, and adjusting to new modes of communication to keep in touch, regardless of where we are or what we end up doing post-graduation.


*"Shadow of the Day" by Linkin Park (Minutes to Midnight Album)

My First (and probably only) Top 13 List.

So, I'm sitting in the computer lab, trying to come up with brilliant ideas for the final paper I have to write for my senior biology seminar on ethics & genetic testing, but I just can't seem to concentrate on the task at hand.

For once, though, I can say that my inability to focus is not completely my own fault; the French-American couple at the table ahead of me is to blame for my lack of productivity.

Typically, I would hesitate to stereotype an individual (or pair of individuals) - especially when they're just a few feet in front of me. They seem happy enough together, so maybe there's something I'm missing. Maybe he treats her differently when they're not in public, maybe he's not being serious when he makes fun of her personality, and maybe he's just as nice to her and she is to him. But from the hour or so that I've been in the same room with them, most of what I've seen points to a classic "nice girl dating a jerk" scenario.

It happens all the time, especially on college campuses: attractive and/or perfectly nice girls date not-so-nice guys. And it only leaves me wondering - why???

And that is the reason I have come up with this list - because it's easier than doing my work and because it's more fun than doing my work, too. That being written, here are a couple explanations, albeit overly-generalized, not always true, and not really all-inclusive, that might shed a bit of insight on this inexplicable phenomenon.

The Top 13 Reasons Why Attractive Girls Date Jerks

No. 1. Low self-esteem.
Sometimes, really attractive (and/or talented) girls don't realize how attractive and talented they actually are, so they settle for guys that are jerks.
No. 2. The fear factor.
Let's face it - deep down inside, way too many of us are afraid of not having a significant other at all in our lives, so much so that we're willing to date someone who doesn't treat us well enough.
No. 3. Physical attraction.
If you don't want a serious relationship but you do want to have fun without the emotional entanglements, then dating a jerk is definitely the way to go.
No. 4. Inexperience.
The simple and unfortunate truth of the matter is that some college girls just don't know any better at this point in the game.
No. 5. The enigma factor.
It's hard to explain, but, for some reason, some girls like it when guys have something to hide - it's as if the less a guy says (no matter how much of a jerk he actually is), the more a girl is attracted to him. And then, there's...
No. 6. The surprise factor.
You know when you're watching a really great, action-packed film and you think you have the personality of the "bad guy" figured out, but then the he does something that completely surprises you 10 minutes before the end of the movie? (Slumdog Millionaire is a perfect example of this.) Makes a girl think - there's always the possibility that your jerk of a boyfriend might surprise you in the end, too, right?
No. 7. Potential for change she can believe in.
Despite copious amounts of evidence to the contrary, you can't change a guy if he's not willing to change himself. You can try and try and try, but sometimes when a guy is a jerk once, he's always a jerk. Some things never change, like a person's...
No. 8. Reputation.
A lot of the time, guys who are jerks can get away with it because they have other things going for them - an IQ that parallels Einstein, a musical ability to sing Bob Dylan like no other (like one of my favorite female artists, Adele), or an athletic talent to throw 3-pointers better than Marcus Jordan.
No. 9. Less pressure.
(Something Michael Jordan's son probably never experienced in his lifetime.) If you're not dating someone who's nice to you, there's less of a reason for you to be nice to them, too. Not to mention, if things don't work out between the two of you, no one will fault you for breaking up with him. Although, that's not to say some girls can't handle...
No. 10. More drama.
Dating a nice guy is just oh-so-boring - they're always complimenting you, giving you way too much attention, telling you how beautiful you look, etc., etc. If you date a jerk, though, you can complain 24/7 to all your friends and get a lot more attention.
No. 11. Deviations from the norm.
There are, at times, however, those rare moments of kindness, when he doesn't degrade you or belittle your every action; those exceptions to his general tendency of being a jerk, the niceties that are few and far between - they're just enough to keep you in a suboptimal relationship.
No. 12. He used to be nice.
But as soon as he started dating a girl as attractive as you, he started to take it for granted and turned into a bona fide jerk. I guess, when that happens, a girl can always feign...
No. 13. Apathy and/or affinity.
Sometimes an attractive girl just doesn't particularly care if a guy is a jerk, and other times, she's actually attracted to a guy who treats her like she's worthless - a sentiment that might stem from a multitude of factors (the most common of them being some sort of dysfunctional relationship between her father and mother, which left her thinking that all guys were jerks and that all relationships were supposed to hurt).

It's true that sometimes jerks do get the girl first, and nice guys end up finishing last. But, at least the nice guys get the nice girls in the end, right? For the betterment of humanity, let's hope so.

Maybe eugenics is only a good thing if scientists happen to discover a gene for niceness and parents selectively choose to have offspring with that gene... that's an idea I could actually use for my paper.

First, Break In Spring

Here's a recap of the images, words, and sounds that made my Spring Break more enjoyable - as usual, interesting factoids and copious amounts of commentary are included, too. Officially-speaking, the break's not over yet; but, unofficially, it's pretty much ended since it's time to get back to work again.

Flo & Tiny

"Our best built certainties are but sand-houses and subject to damage from any wind of doubt that blows." ~ Mark Twain

The photographs* below (click on them to view them at their full-size) probably speak for themselves, but the phenomenally-crafted sand sculptures of "Flo" and "Tiny" on Dauphin Island beach were one of the most memorable parts of my Spring Break. Whoever you are, and wherever you are, hundreds (if not thousands) of beach-goers were definitely amazed and entertained by your one-of-a-kind works.

John 3:16

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."

Sometimes, religion (and religious phrases) , like art, show up in very predictable places - like the bumper stickers on the cars of conservative Alabama towns, the welcome signs outside of Protestant churches, or the Sunday morning broadcasts of church services on local television channels. Other times, though, they show up in the least-expected spots - like the bottom of your bright yellow, plastic Forever 21 shopping bag.

Don Chang and his wife, Jin, immigrants from Korea and the founders of the clothing chain, were apparently "deeply religious" devout Christians. But store managers, customers, and news reporters (like Deborah Kolben of the New York Sun) have their own ideas as to why the Bible passage is quoted on Forever 21's bag. Religion, even in small and seemingly inconspicuous doses, always seems to be up for interpretation and never ceases to stir up controversy and confusion.

"Jai Ho"

"May victory be yours."

Speaking of things that are "up for interpretation", the Pussycat Dolls have recently come out with a cover of A.R. Rahman's song, "Jai Ho" (from the award-winning Slumdog Millionaire film) - the original song won an Oscar for best song; but, the cover, in my opinion, is just an overly-Anglicized pop version of an already Anglicized Bollywood song. As talented and gorgeous as the Pussycat Dolls are, I feel that this cover is one that doesn't really do justice to the true meaning of the original lyrics. It's always difficult to find a perfect medium between staying true to the original traditions and social morays of more conservative Eastern culture when trying to gain popularity with incredibly liberal Western audiences. In this case, what's happened with "Jai Ho" almost exactly reminds me of what the teenage-pop star-character Cora Corman initially did to the song "Way Back Into Love" in the movie Music and Lyrics... except that this is real life, and not the movies.

Since musical preferences are a personal thing, though, I'll just let each listener and/or viewer independently and individually decide what he or she thinks about the song and music video. Maybe some things just take getting used to and you enjoy them more over time - I mean, it's not until you break-in a pair of shoes that they actually start feeling comfortable, right?


*Dauphin Island photographs captured by Dr. S Barik.

Three months of winter & wealth.

Fortune is a funny thing. The last fortune I received came on New Year's Eve, from a Chinese fortune cookie: "All the preparation you've done will finally be paying off!"

It's been about 3 months since then, give or take a few days; and each month, without fail, my fortune cookie fortune has come true.

Around the middle of January, I received the phone call that announced my acceptance to graduate school for next year; near the end of this month, I found out I was accepted to the study abroad program in Paris, France for the upcoming summer. Although, I'm not sure if an occurrence of equally fortuitous nature will present itself sometime in March.

So, I guess my fortune cookie fortune was right, but was it really fortune if I created all the outcomes myself? Everything that happened was a result of "all the preparation [I'd] done" and the hard work I've put in over the past few years. It seems as though we actually have the ability to alter our destinies - but, why, then, can't we always get things to turn out the way we want them to?

Jean-Dominique Bauby, a French journalist and previous editor-in-chief of French Elle, once wrote that it seemed as though his "whole life was nothing but a string of those small near misses: a race whose result we know beforehand but in which we fail to bet on the winner." Sometimes, the hand we're dealt is just that - near misses, but also serendipitously-seized opportunities.

The life of Bauby was, however, anything but completely fortuitous. After suffering a massive stroke at the age of 43, Bauby was "paralyzed from head to toe... his mind intact... imprisoned in his own body, unable to speak or move" (Bauby 4). Only by blinking his left eyelid could he communicate with others; this is how he dictated his entire memoir, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.

Interestingly enough, Bauby's memoir was originally dictated and written in French, so it has cultural and linguistic significance for me, especially now that I'll be going to Paris this upcoming summer. The book has since been translated into a number of other languages - most notably into English, by Jeremy Leggatt - and its French film adaption was nominated for 4 Oscars in 2007. Bauby's writing not only allows readers to gain insight into the inner-workings of a patient with "Locked-In Syndrome", but also offers a significant amount of background on the French healthcare system and the layout of Paris. Perfect literary material to prepare me for my neuroscience classes, my Parisian trip, and whatever else fortune might have in store for me.


*Quotes from The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominque Bauby; image is original artwork by yours truly.

Maybe it's written.

Tonight, I watched Slumdog Millionaire.*

I won't give away the ending or release any spoilers, but if you read any generic review about the movie, you'll soon learn that many critics have pegged it as "the best movie of 2008," a story that "lives up to its premise even at its most far-fetched, creating a beautifully realized and edited film" (Roeper, Ransom, Rotten Tomatoes). It's been nominated for 10 Oscars and 29 other awards, and it's won almost 50 other awards (IMDB). To top it off, Dev Patel, the actor who plays the lead character in the film, is only 18 years old - and he was starring in his first-ever movie role. His stellar acting skills even earned him a (playful) slap from Sharon Stone.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow once said, "Fame comes only when deserved, and then is as inevitable as destiny, for it is destiny." But if there's one thing that the writers and actors of Slumdog Millionaire have proved, it's that destiny isn't simply the result of inevitable, uncontrolled events. It's in your own hands, if you're willing to take the necessary risks and fight for it, against all odds.

I wonder if Dev Patel ever realized the caliber of recognition and fame that was in store for him, if he recognized that he'd already begun to build his destiny the moment he was cast in the role of Jamal in Slumdog Millionaire. M. Night Shyamalan has already picked him up for his next movie, Avatar: The Last Airbender, set to be released on July 2, 2010. Vikas Swarup, the author of Q&A (the novel that Slumdog Millionaire is loosely based upon), probably didn't expect his story to be adapted into a film and become an international sensation, either.

I'm not sure I would ever be able to survive in an area with a lifestyle as surreal and hardening as the ones that Indians have learned to endure and embrace, every day in the slums of cities like Kolkata and Mumbai. But, whatever I end up doing, I'd hope that my future work at least creates some semblance of an impact on a wider audience, however pale its scope may be in comparison to a Hollywood-Bollywood blockbuster. And, who knows, maybe my fame will come in the process, if deserved. Maybe it's written.


Or maybe I should just stop blogging and finish my readings for class.


*Kelli and Alec: So sorry for watching it without you; I promise I'll still see it again with both of you on Friday!

It is a truth universally acknowledged...*

...that a single college Senior in possession of an excruciatingly slow home internet connection must be in want of some sort of entertainment during her time in Alabama for the holiday season.

So far, two weeks out of my four-week winter vacation have been filled with movie-watching with the 'rents (oldies, newbies, and James McAvoy-ies), sporadic runs past the homes of neighbors (and the McCain-Palin signs that are ever-present on their perfectly manicured lawns), science-y/med school-related book-reading, and random errands with my mom. And, recently, I had dinner with old friends from high school, at the iconic corner of "Good Food and Good Times". Still boggles my mind that so many of them are married already, though...

Today was a prime example of finding a happy medium between coexisting with the social nuances of Southerners and being individually productive. While most people from a city like Atlanta might get easily annoyed by how aimlessly (and badly) Mobilians drive or how it seems as though no one is ever in a rush to get anywhere, I think I've actually begun to find some solace in these seemingly frustrating realities of small town life. It's not that I've completely stopped paying attention (to the ignorant, uninformed, and close-minded individuals that continue to be permanent fixtures where my family resides); I've just started to not let unnecessary things bother me as much. Maybe I've become more patient, or maybe I'm just getting older. Whatever it is, I think it's a better expenditure of my time and energy to concentrate on what actually matters.

After taking my dad's Audi TT roadster for a joy ride (in all honesty, it was more of a slightly nerve-wrecking ride to brush up on stick-shift car-driving, and my dad was in the passenger's seat the entire time, making sure I didn't stall or crash his snazzy car), I spent approximately 4 hours in the West Regional Public library, studying B.S. about the male and female reproductive systems. [I especially like how B.S. is the abbreviation for the Biological Sciences portion of the MCAT, quite possibly the most clinically relevant section, but ironically named, nonetheless. The test-makers sure have a hilarious sense of humor.] Had it not been for the random, middle-aged man (supposedly a painter) who struck up a conversation about my "intriguingly photogenic facial structure" and my potentially promising future in modeling and art, it would have otherwise been a relatively uneventful afternoon of academia.

I'll take the 5-hour exam in about a month, on January 31st, 2009 - hopefully, this third time will be the charm, i.e., the first time I complete the test, and the last time I ever take the MCAT. Note to self and other aspiring pre-med students: the key to success is to a) not move the test date for a third time, and b) not punk out after the very first section/prematurely void your scores.

P.S. Kitty, if you read this, I took a look at your latest post and I was absolutely shocked to read about your gum-smuggling criminal activities. The Singaporean government is probably assembling a clandestine group of agents at this very moment, in hopes of tracking you down... Seriously, though, I'm glad you're having a nice time so far and adjusting to life in Singapore - it's definitely entertaining to hear about your everyday escapades!


*Quote adapted from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.