The Great American Family Trip of Autumn 2013

This September, Dave and I trekked across the Atlantic for the best of reasons... my uncle Bill got married! After two flight transfers we were scooped up by my cousins Emily and Lizzie at Indianapolis airport and deposited into a Holiday Inn full of my extended family.

Bill and Tracy Gallogly got hitched on the most spectacularly sunny of days, and looking through the photos you will see just how happy we all were. The bride looked gorgeous (bride and groom looked TAN), and everyone was smiling. This visit I especially liked reconnecting with my cousins; I think some of us naturally drifted apart over the last decade or so, as people moved away, got new jobs, got married, and got busy lives, but something in that process has stopped or even turned around. We're all still very different, but I loved the easy-going family thing that we seem to have aged into. The other excellent bit was how easy it was to drop Dave into the middle of the family chaos. I think he knows more names of distant relatives than I do, and I didn't have to worry at all when I wandered off and left him to fend for himself. So yes, bravo Dave, and bravo rest of family, you all work out nicely.

USA trip September 2013

After the wedding weekend, Andy headed back towards Japan while Dave and I joined my parents for the long drive home to New York. There we ate a LOT (it turns out I actually do like dry rub BBQ ribs), drank a fair bit (wine tasting out east at Channing Daughters winery), and enjoyed the sandy beaches and pumpkin farmstands of Long Island in the fall. One glorious day Dave and I invaded Brooklyn to gossip with the lovely Kate Stocker and putter across the Brooklyn Bridge at sunset. It was perhaps my best visit home yet (having Andy would have been icing on the cake). I was sad to leave after only a week, but while in transit at Dublin Airport we managed to catch Bill and Tracy on their way back from their Ireland honeymoon. Not even a week of driving on the wrong side of the road could dim their newlywed happiness :)

Science Outreach with a steampunk slant

This August, an idea hatched by the public engagement committee here at CUBRIC finally took shape as we brought quirky neuroscience demonstrations to a new kind of venue: a four day music festival in the mountains. While this might sound massively bizarre, the Green Man Festival in the Brecon Beacons in Wales has started to get an interesting reputation for more than indie-pop. Each year, the area dubbed "Einstein's Garden" attracts exciting science stalls and performers: knit blood vessels, crawl through a model of the digestive tract, or make music using skin conductivity! And this year, I am pleased to say, our Laboratory of Neuroillusions was the star of the festival. 

Seven of us donned victoriana steampunk costumes and invited festival-goers to try the Phantomic Hand (make a rubber hand feel like your own), the Psycho-Kinetic Chambre (levitate a ping pong ball using brain waves), and the Optical Inversion Glasses (watch adaptation in action as you learn to adjust to wearing prism goggles... then take them off). As quasi-performers, we were given "Artists" wristbands, meaning that we could pitch our tents in the special "Artists" area. The biggest names performing were obviously not staying in dome tents and using porta-loos, but it was fun to be surrounded by the more "up-and-coming" musicians. Even better, there were much shorter queues for the SHOWERS. I had stocked up on baby wipes and dry-shampoo under the impression that showers would not be possible, but to my great relief and joy there were hot showers for me three times during the six day adventure.

Camping was fun, albeit very different camping from what I'm used to. Although we were among the first to pitch tents in the artists area, waking up the second morning we found tents placed nearly on top of our own as the field filled up. Fortunately, the exhausting days, copious nighttime drinking while staying up to watch bands, and good use of ear plugs meant that I slept soundly at night; in the mornings I would be regaled with tales of what our neighbors got up to (ranging from Chloe crying over a lost mobile phone, potential scary domestic abuse, and men wrestling less than 1 meter from my head). Following a civilized campsite breakfast of fresh coffee and scrambled eggs, we manned the stall from 10am to 8pm every day... which was absolutely K N A C K E R I N G. I don't think I've ever done anything more exhausting. Although we took rolling breaks, the seven of us felt a bit guilty if we left for more than an hour and so we made our lives more difficult than they needed to be. Still, as the biggest and most exciting stall, we were really proud of how word of our illusions was spreading through the festival. We probably saw upwards of 3000 people, ranging from little kids we helped make pipe-cleaner neurons to stoned band members who could barely see straight Before putting on the prism goggles... it is surreal to jump between those two audiences in the space of a deep breath, before launching into the appropriate spiel.

End result was a massive sense of accomplishment and success, my first pair of wellies, the decimation of my vocal cords, and my first exposure to a British music festival. Really happy to have been a part of it. And now I have a set of steampunk clothes in the back of closet... did I mention I did everything I described in a corset?

GreenMan2013

Another summer, another van trip across Europe

Each summer, Dave and I drive a van full of musical instruments to some exciting European destination so that the Oxford Millennium Orchestra has things to play on. The orchestra members fly, but it's tough to fit a double bass or timpani in the overhead compartments these days. Following the previous two tours to Porto and Budapest, this year we made the trip to lovely Bilbao on the northern Basque coast of Spain. Not only was the destination closer (a piddly 16 hours of drive time, compared to 24 hours to Porto!), but we have learned a few tricks from previous years.

1. Snacks. For example, peanut M&M's don't melt in the hot cab of the van. They claim these things have air-conditioning, but this is a lie.

2. Audio book for Molly. When drives are long, you understandably need to take naps when you are between driving shifts and catch sleep when you can. Without someone to talk to, driver-Molly needs entertainment beyond the immensely dull straight stretches of  toll roads in France (admittedly well-maintained but exceedingly expensive and mind-numbing). This year our van didn't even have an audio-in jack, so I made a last minute trip to the Oxford library for a Norweigian detective mystery on CD (12 discs!). I am clearly turning into my parents... one day I'll voluntarily listen to a Tony Hillerman navaho mystery book on tape. My 9-year-old self shudders, my 29-year-old self nods with approval at such sensible action.

3. Car-adaptor for electronics charging. This year our TomTom (satnav) made a pathetic clunking sound rather than turn on, so we relied on phone GPS and actual paper maps to get us places. Keeping the power-sucking GPS phones running was critical. 

4. Enjoyable rest-stops. Previous years we have stayed overnight somewhere that split the distance roughly in half, at a hotel that was as cheap as possible while being as close to the motorway as we could manage. We have had a few bad experiences trying to find a Travelodge at 1am in the dark business parks of suburban Tours. This year, we were smarter, and had more flexibility with driving schedules. On the way down we stopped in Chartres, getting to see the immense cathedral illuminated at night by an impressive, quirky, animated light show. On the way back we stopped in Poitiers, known for it's university vibe and a special type of buttery biscuit, and quite enjoyable to putter around in. Knowing that a long-wheel-base van is frightfully difficult to negotiate in medieval cities, and secure parking is critical to protect our precious cargo, we researched parking garage height-restrictions in our search for good stopover places. Our choices were successful... nice accommodation, new cities to explore, and I got to practice my French while ordering gorgeous croissants and baguettes.


What we learned this drive:

1. Reversing a transit van up an incline, around a blind corner, into a busy sidewalk and traffic intersection.... bad.

2. Doing this with hand brake still somewhat engaged... stinky. And that stink doesn't go away for a while.

3. Dave is a parking fiend. Utterly amazing. I admit that we swap places such that he always handles parking the van. However, he did hit me with it once or twice while I was helping guide the parking process... and I did have to shout frantically once to prevent him from ramming into a confused Basque driver.

4. The Parkopedia website shows you the locations of parking, the prices, the height restrictions, the time limits, and the google street view for parking lots in your destination city. So helpful.

5. It wasn't a fluke, customs agents continue to take one look at me and Dave and immediately decide our giant van is more likely to be filled with wholesome presents for orphan children than illegal smuggled contraband. This is helpful, and so far entirely accurate.

6. It shocks the system when the toll booth operators change nationalities at border crossings... how many times did I ask for un reçu in Spain or say gracias in France? But it is nice knowing any faux pas I perform get attributed to British tourists, due to the big GB sticker on the van and the right-side-drive.


The drive was surprisingly easy and the two stopovers were precisely what we were hoping for: good food, minimal stress, and something interesting to see or do while we were in town. Only real hiccups included some shocking interpretations of the word 'espresso' (no, it is not overcooked filter coffee tar poured into a small cup. no, it should not fill a large travel mug.). But the quantity of butter I ingested while traversing France may have cancelled out this bizarre caffeine issue. Yum.

Please enjoy this album of photos from our drive across France... more from the actual orchestra tour in Bilbao to follow soon!

OMO van driving through France

Cailin Comes to Cardiff (or, Castles, Colleges and Cake)

Much to might delight, Cailin visited me in Cardiff this summer! Lots of friends talk about making the trek across the ocean, or even just across the UK, to see me my Welsh home. But this friend is special... this friend really did it :)

Cailin was with me when I first stepped foot on the British Isles... back in our college years, she was wrapping up a semester in Switzerland and I was in the middle of a challenging summer internship in Berlin that had me feeling immensely lonely. We met in London, and it saved that summer for me. Looking back, we stayed in a hostel in a dreadfully sketchy part of London, did touristy activities, and spent more time talking to eachother (in beautiful, rapid English) than absorbing the bustling world around us. But it was glorious.

This visit was amusingly similar. The best bits involved her, me, coffee, cake, and good conversation. Or replace coffee with cocktails and repeat. We did touristy things, like visit castles, the Austen-esque city of Bath, and the windy streets and colleges of Oxford. Poor Cailin dealt admirably with an air mattress on my living room floor. We are older, wiser, but not that old and not too wise. She remains a unique friend in my life: we seem to have conversations that I don't have with anyone else, and we can always pick up where we left off despite there being an ocean between us.  It was, as before, glorious.


For (silly) practical reasons, the photos are divided between two albums:

Cailin-In-Cardiff

Cailin-in-Cardiff2

Very proud of Dr. Dave

This weekend, Dave finally (officially) became Dr. David Patrick O'Neill, after a degree ceremony in the Sheldonian Theatre. The ceremony is mostly in Latin, and involves a costume change as you officially transfer to your new degree. The D.Phil. gown is bright red with big blue sleeves, and I think Dave (ahem, Dr. Dave) looks quite dashing in it. Just as in my own ceremony last year, the caretaker of the Sheldonian likes Dave and saved us the best seats in the house (also meaning we got slip in ahead of the sweating queue of people waiting outside). England is experiencing an epic sunny heatwave, and the audience was admittedly wilting by the end. Still, the bright sun was glorious for outdoor photography and the garden drinks reception at University College after the ceremony. Dave's parents came down for the weekend, and the four of us had a proper Oxonian visit complete with a (nearly) private dinner at Keble College and visit to the pub. I think Dave is quite pleased to acquire his new title, and Dr. O'Neill and Dr. Bright wish to thank everyone who helped get both of us to this point!

Dr. David O'Neill

Musical updates from sunny Wales

I've been so unexpectedly fortunate in my numerous musical opportunities in Cardiff. It is always a worry for me when I move to a new town: who needs an oboist, and who do I want to play oboe with? I lucked out with the university ensembles, particularly when I crossed paths with the director of the chamber choir and we found a mutual passion for Bach (John Hugh Thomas, officially my oldest Facebook friend). JHT directs the Swansea Bach Choir and first asked me to play John Rutter's "The Lord is My Shepherd" for choir, organ and solo oboe for a BBC Radio 4 programme (joy joy joy joy joy). This term, he trumped that offer by inviting me to play the solo oboe obbligato part in a Bach Cantata (how much joy can I express in a single blog entry!?).

Following a very successful concert of the Bach with some Handel and Purcell in Llandaff cathedral, the choir had a repeat performance in St. David's-- a micro-city on the southwestern coast of Wales with a glorious sunken cathedral and a laid back surfer attitude. My own "saint" David graciously agreed to drive me and my oboe 2+ hours each way rather than force me to sit on a coach with less lucky undergrads. The Welsh coastline is gorgeous (it was Lonely Planet's 'Best Region On Earth' to visit in 2012), and we had brilliant sunshine for our field trip. Here are a few shots from the day:

St. David's Cathedral in St. David's the "city." (It is technically a city, because of the cathedral being there, but it is about two pubs, three surf-shops and and ice cream stand big. 

Have you ever seen such a sunken cathedral?

We wandered over to the coast during my break in rehearsals

There was this yellow bush, everywhere in Southwest Wales. A very happy color, and welcome now that the armies of daffodils in Wales have passed their prime

Dave, very pleased to have his sunglasses. I think it looks like he is so pleased that wispy clouds are radiating out of his forehead.

The concert went very well; unlike most cathedrals, the acoustic was dry enough to achieve clarity in the music. For many of the undergrad musicians, this would be their last ever performance with the university ensembles, and all the students came together as a friendly community for their send-off. After the performance, JHT introduced me to a friend of his who conducts another choir in Wales. Somehow, after many minutes of not being able to fully understand his rapid Welsh accented questions, I ended up being asked to play with his ensemble at a music festival in the Brecon Beacons this July! For this concert, I'll be paid to play second oboe with the principal oboist of the BBC National Orchestra of Wales. In an upcoming concert, he would like me to reprise my Bach Wedding Cantata solo. Dust off the reedmaking tools, I have professional gigs this summer!

Meanwhile, Dave and I are preparing for our annual orchestra tour to Europe... this year we'll be driving the van full of instruments to Bilbao! The orchestra had been needing a few extra string players to bulk out the sections, and through these last few concerts I've wrangled a handful of Cardiff musicians to join the Oxford group for the tour. Look at me, ambassador for Anglo-Welsh relations :) I promise to take lots of pictures from the Basque coast and the mayhem that the Oxford Millennium Orchestra tour usually creates!

Mountains, Mormons, and Meetings (oh My)

Every spring I get to enjoy the main "perk" of being in academic research: the international conference meeting. Thus far, I've been reimbursed to travel to and enjoy Berlin, Toronto, Honolulu, Stockholm, Montreal, Melbourne and in 2013... Salt Lake City.  Yes, I admit it lacks a certain glamour that our typical destinations boast, but it is apparently over a million dollars less expensive for the society to host it there than in Europe, so fair enough.

The main benefit of Salt Lake City is that flights from LHR to SLC can be manipulated to pass through NYC, and thus I can nab a cheeky visit home within my travel budget. It was a short stay, but it was made rather wonderful by the simultaneous appearance of my globe-trotting brother, who was briefly returning to US from his assignment in Japan. Andy apparently stuffed every nook and cranny with small Japanese gifts for us, including a wide range of bizarre edible snacks (most pleasant surprise? chocolate bread bites. yum. most distressing item? too-realistic plastic shrimp.)

Loot from Japan!

During the trip, Andy and I escaped into the city for a day of sunny perfection: we meandered down the "High Line" and basked in a streetside cafe in the West Village before meeting up with my friend Cailin for drinks and my friend Becca for a posh manhattan mexican dinner. On our last full day together, we drove out east to a new art museum in the Hamptons. Although I admit that I was sceptical, the museum turned out to be more engaging than I anticipated: neat architecture (apparently it looks like a "potato barn" and is surrounded by manicured acres of "natural Long Island flora" and a nearby vineyard), interesting-enough art, and a fantastic cafe serving up curried carrot and peach soup. We stopped off at the beach afterwards, and I enjoyed suitably silly barefoot prancing about on the sand. It's so easy to forget these aspects of Long Island; it really is a glorious place to live if you take advantage of the beautiful spaces. Friday morning, we said our goodbyes and I was delivered to the local micro-airport of Long Island to began my trek to Utah.

First and foremost, Utah has mountains and sunshine (see above picture). As predicted, the 7-lane roads that dissect Salt Lake City into an enormous grid system were not particularly enjoyable to navigate as a pedestrian: everything is much further away than it appears on a map, particularly when rushing to make a certain poster session after lunch. My first impression of the city was rather negative, perhaps due to the shock of Mountain-state distances on my walkable British town sensibilities. It was also difficult to tell whether the city was "on the up" or declining, with abandoned lots pervading the city center. However, by the end of the week I was enjoying the glimpses of mountains at every intersection, the genuine friendliness of folks, the pervasiveness of book shops and the odd culinary gem.

The conference also provided a boost to my science mojo. Last year I struggled, for months, with a bit of science that just... didn't... work. It felt as if I was bashing my head against a wall, with nothing to show for it after months of labor. Add to that the stress of finding funding for next year and I had been a little anti-science or anti-research in the period leading up to the conference. I should have predicted it: being surrounded by the 6-thousand-odd people that really care about your area of work is very stimulating. The plenary sessions are full of big names talking about their early years (typically with photographic evidence that they once, as a grad student, had HAIR), reminding us that we all have awkward beginnings and just have to hang on. Seeing old lab connections, and meeting friendly interesting people through them, is always a joy. I was also able to gain a bit of perspective on how far I've come since my first ISMRM conference in 2007, and I enjoyed the "Session Moderator" ribbon on my name badge, the increasing number of attendees I recognize and interact with, and my growing confidence in my own scientific capabilities. Coming back to CUBRIC, I am bursting with ideas and have numerous scientists to contact. The mojo returns!

More pictures from my trip, including my walk through the LDS Temple complex, can be found in this Picasa Album

Easter Shenanigans

Happy Easter everyone! Here's a quick update on how we celebrated the holiday in Cardiff.

Dave arrived late Thursday and stayed through to Monday morning (Monday afternoon he attended a conducting masterclass with THE Valery Gergiev back in Oxford... rather unreal). We decided to try a new church for Easter: neither one of us has been particularly happy with the nearby Catholic church in Roath. Although St Peter's has been beautifully re-done and people had been friendly to me, something about the television monitors (ick), the music choices (hokey song for the Lord's Prayer? ick), and the cacophony of talking/"whispering"/crying/screaming/running-around children making it nearly impossible to hear the priest (GAH) made it a poor fit for us.

But Cardiff is also home to the Cardiff Metropolitan Cathedral (it is also known as St. David's Cathedral, but everything is "St David's Something" in Wales and the Catholics and Anglicans have to compromise). The cathedral is a somewhat austere stone building tucked in behind the busy streets and shopping malls of central Cardiff, and is the seat of the Archbishop, who was present for the Triduum masses. Its congregation was smaller than expected, but crucially it boasts a choir made up of young children from the cathedral school and adult lay clerks. The music choices are entirely different from my existing experience with Catholic churches, featuring a few hymns and lots of polyphony and plainchant; this may explain a) why Dave and I like it so much and b) why mewling infants aren't present. Anyways, for the first time in a long time, I really like a specific church. It can actually get *quiet* during mass, the A-team singers are top-notch, the priest has a beautiful plainchant voice, and the bishop was funny. The only hiccup is that no one in the congregation knew how to queue up for communion (and we are in Britain! this is not supposed to happen here!)

Easter Sunday we invited a few friends over to help devour a leg of lamb. Alan and Cyril live five minutes away, and Alan's girlfriend Sinead was visiting from Dublin for the weekend. (You may recall that Alan and Sinead were the lovely people who helped entertain and chaperone me and Dave after Kevin's wedding in Dublin at New Year's.) We made lamb smothered in rosemary-garlic-butter, cabbage, and 1.5 kg of potatoes roasted in goose fat. Guests brought the roast veg, cheeses, and an apple-chocolate tart to finish off the feast. Oh, and there was a lot of wine.

We feasted for hours, wearing headgear furnished by Sinead (bunny ears for the gentlemen, hand-crafted "Easter Bonnet" headbands for the ladies). We took a brief break to watch Oxford dominate this year's Boat Race against Cambridge, and eventually had the genius idea to wander down to Waterloo Gardens with my camera for some impromptu acrobatics and silly antics. This silliness, and the earlier feasting, are documented and available for your consumption in the Album linked to below.  After sub-freezing temps and miserable gray wintry skies, Wales had finally shown us a glorious sunny day. With good weather, good food, and good company, it was a glorious Easter.

Easter Shenanigans

Molly the immigrant.

I have just gotten back from having my visa application approved. I am not actually feeling massive relief; I'm not organizing a big celebration. Don't misunderstand me, this application process has been a prolonged period of frustrating uncertainty about my future and it great to have it behind me. But really all that changes is that I can stop worrying and put that energy back into my job.

A typical application requires you to hand over your passport, your sole lifeline in a foreign country, for up to 12 weeks. If you're a complicated case, it could take even longer. Recent news articles have revealed that the UK Border Agency has massive backlogs dating back years and years. The helplessness of surrendering your passport to this beast of a bureaucratic machine is more than just an administrative nightmare. Sure, it would totally scupper my plans to attend the big international conference in April. But what if there was a family emergency? The worry that, if it came to it, I might not be able to get HOME, is frighteningly powerful.

I had one other option: book a "premium" appointment where the decision is made in the same day. Bringing the visa application price up from £567 to £867, this service gets your passport-shaped security blanket quickly back into your hands. Once you decide you want to pay for one, the fun begins. 42 days in advance, the UKBA website will open up a few appointment slots at their 8 or so locations across the country, at the stroke of midnight. And as thousands of people descend on their server, it crashes, making it nearly impossible to go through the six pages of forms and box ticking that are needed to book one of these prized slots. I found a blog entry from a fellow expat describing in detail how to "play the system." It involves 20 minutes of prep before the midnight rush and opening up 8 tabs in two browsers. At midnight, one tab is used to test if the site is working while the others contain your login details:

Is the site loading?
If yes: press next on one of your "real" tabs, to get to the next page in the process.
If no: keep pressing refresh until it seems to be working.
Repeat.

Now, the server could always go down while you are in the process of "clicking next" and moving to the next page, in which case all your information is lost and you have to start over (or you go to one of your many backup tabs!).

Over an hour (and 300+ page refreshes) later, with a generous glass of wine to sooth my impatience, I got my appointment (in Cardiff, making my life even easier). And all that was left was for me to double, triple, n-tuple check my application and supporting documents before my big day. And today, the appointment was surprisingly efficient. I had a brief meeting (called "sifting") before having my fingerprints/photo taken, and then I was free to leave. I had a brief scare, where they called and said my bank statements weren't acceptable (they were mistaken), but almost as soon as I got into my lab I received a text telling me to head back. My passport was returned with an acceptance letter, and I left with a big smile.

I think I'll have some wine this evening, to mark the occasion, but otherwise I'll just keep coming to lab. And soon enough I'll be searching for the next job. Which requires another visa. And thus everything will begin again in less than a year. Ultimately, this process just reaffirms that I am a foreigner, despite how long I've been here, the friends I've made, the life I've built, and the degrees and jobs I've worked hard at. And this won't change any time soon. But for today, perhaps this little victory is enough.

Overcoming the sleazy-heebie-jeebies of self-promotion

What does the word "networking" make you think of? It is a word that I have often mocked, deriding the suit-wearing business-card-wielding flattery-proffering plastic-smiled people who have attended a workshop on how to shake hands and enthusiastically slide into conversations with the influential denizens of meeting or conferences. It is so easy to dismiss all of that world as "sleazy." Surely the time spent working on your introduction line would be better spent on your science. Surely everyone else is creeped out by your blatant attempt to build more contacts. Good scientists shouldn't have to stoop to such tactics.

But, I must recant these opinions: recent events have shown me that networking and self-promotion can be easy, sleaze-free, and actually feel quite genuine.


Monday last week: I joined twitter. Twice. A personal account for silly comments with friends and a "work account" that is more streamlined for brainy tweets. Probably like all new users, I stalk my stats, checking up on any new followers several times each day. This is rather like watching paint dry, as I really haven't amassed that many recipients for my witty 140-character blips, but it's human nature. Anyways, almost immediately after joining, I was followed by an anonymous MRI-related person. Clicking through the profile links, I discover he has a blog. It is very well put together and the guy is clearly a respected member of the field. In his blog, he has a very long entry that reviews a recent paper, which happens to be on a topic quite similar to a recent publication of my own.

The brain starts to mull over my options. Do I add to the long list of comments? Do I stoop to the act of throwing my paper at the internet community?

Tuesday last week: I make my move. I spend over an hour crafting a two paragraph comment. I open with a complement-- great post, really interesting, i read that paper too, etc. I follow up with something a bit self-deprecating, echoing the blogger's confusion at a certain complex analysis method. Then I try for humor, acknowledging the fact I am about to blatantly hock my own research.

After the groundwork has been completed, I paste my citation and add a link to the pdf download. Not able to end the comment so abruptly, I add a few sentences describing how what I did fits in to the paper reviewed in the original post. No big claims, no exaggerations, just an honest take on the pros and cons of the science involved. After a LOT of editing and hesitation, I press submit.

Tuesday last week, one hour later:  Reply! And not only is the blogger nice, and happy to have my comment, he has actually already seen my paper and was considering using it for his next review! He asks a few questions, he's curious if I'll be presenting more of this research at the upcoming conference... in short, the whole thing was an immensely satisfying success!


I am still a bit off balance by this series of events. I think it has actually changed my perspective on science. People have told me that it takes a bit of time to "recover" from a PhD, in the sense that you really begin to be a professional ("adult") scientist instead of a nervous student version. Regardless, I'm on Twitter. I'm reading lots of interesting science in and out of my field, every day. I'm no longer quite so shy about talking to strangers in my field (online at least, we'll see how I do in person at the conference in April). I'm excited about being a scientist.

Oh, and you can follow me on twitter now: @BrightWrites for personal goodies (look to the right for the latest), and @BrightMG for my science side.

omg yum

Knowing that I am dangerously close to being that person on facebook that instagrams every salad they make... here is a picture of my super awesome loaf of bread from this evening!

The taste is divine, the crust is delightful, and a slice was delicious enough to have as my dessert this evening; it is a triumphant success! This is my fourth loaf in a recent spate of bread baking, and after a few hiccups, I think the recipe is starting to be perfected. It is a no-knead, long-fermentation bread... after barely combining the usual water/flour/yeast/salt, there is no further effort. The yeast is left to bubble away for days and days in the fridge, slowly but surely lining up a gluten structure and developing in flavor. I bake the loaf inside a dutch oven with the lid on, to imitate a steam-injection oven and hopefully imitate the lovely crusts that professional bakers manage to produce. (Try it yourself! My main source is here.)  There are more tweaks to try out: how long should the ferment last? how can I shape the loaf without scalding myself on the pre-heated dutch oven? how much whole wheat flour could be added before it affects texture? But for now, hot damn, I made one fine loaf of bread.

(Note, however, that while no kneading is required, this method seems to get flour everywhere in my kitchen and all over me. I'm in denial until tomorrow!)

Simply because I stumbled across these photos as I was writing this, I thought I could show off a bit more baking from Blenheim Road. Here are a few pics from a bagel-making adventure... now these take a LOT of work. But it is worth it, to get good bagels 3500 miles from New York!

The night before, make the dough. After one rise, shape it into rings and let it rise again.

Boil bagels, in water with a bit of malt barley syrup (or honey), to get that classic chewy bagel crust.

Then bake to brown them, and coat in toppings! Maybe I need to make these again soon.

A new home on the web

Thinking I should have some "presence" on the web that is independent from Facebook, Linked In, Academia.edu and others of their ilk, I have spent the last few weeks tinkering with a new homepage. Like everything else in my world, it is managed by the beneficent Google. It may one day even show up in the Google search results when you look for me!

What prompted all this? Perhaps I am starting to get the sense that I am building a career, and this is a way to get my name out there. Along those lines, I've put up my CV, publications, and descriptions of my research meant for either the lay reader or for people in the fMRI world. To add a charming dose of humanity to the all-business picture being painted, I've kept a page for music.

So please, have a look. Extra please, give some feedback! Dave has already painstakingly brought me from my first to the current draft. There is a lot of room for improvement, and your comments are welcome!   http://sites.google.com/site/mollybright/home

Fellowship of the Wheelie Bin

Today I received an email from my department. An email that simply stated "please see the attached document," pointing to a pdf file. And that pdf file contained a letter only a few sentences long. Typically these signs do not point to success...  but in this case I nearly jumped up and down in the middle of Starbucks when I read my application was successful and I have been awarded a one-year fellowship to fund my own independent research at CUBRIC.

In truth, the fellowship doesn't affect the specifics of my daily scientific life very much. My boss and I already decided to extend my contract with him for one more year, but this fellowship means that he doesn't have to pay my salary, and this makes travel and other perks much easier to arrange. We will still be partners in crime (er, science). But what it does change is that now I am a Research Fellow instead of Associate, and I have shown I am capable of bringing in my own funding, and these facts will look very good on my CV when I look for my next job or next fellowship.

It also feels very nice to receive some love from the Wellcome Trust after not being successful with the big 4-year fellowship application I submitted to them earlier this year. I don't regret that earlier application, even though it ate up countless hours of productivity and sleep over months of my life. I learned a lot from that process, and it directly affected how I approached the little 1-year fellowship that I now managed to win. The successful proposal was sleek, tidy, and concise. I selected only one of three topics from the big app, then reduced that topic by half, and then simplified it. I made it obvious why the work was important, showed how other research would be directly impacted by my results, linked in other researchers who would contribute to the project to our mutual benefit... look at me, learning grantsmanship slowly but surely!

What's this wheelie bin, you ask? The work I have proposed involves the lower body negative pressure chamber that we are constructing. It has been slow going, mostly because Kevin and I have been focusing on other stuff and not able to literally hammer out a prototype. Our proof of principal setup involved an empty yellow wheelie bin (big trash can, for the US readers) hooked up to a standard household vacuum cleaner and sealed with a neoprene kayaking skirt. Hopefully we are on the road towards a more professional looking piece of equipment... it really doesn't look right next to a multi-million dollar brain scanner! The idea is that the "chamber" seals around your lower torso/legs and is hooked up to a vacuum pump. By changing the air pressure in the chamber, you can change your systemic blood pressure. I want to use this to measure the interaction between physiology and neural activity. Fingers crossed... I've got the money, the time, the independence (but also the support)... now all I need is some science!

Finally getting some winter!

I've been working remotely (the perks of academic life!) in Oxford over the last several days, in time for the first proper winter weather this season. I have an open-ended ticket back to Cardiff, so technically I could stay a while longer...  However, I will likely get a train sometime tomorrow and get my nose back to the science grindstone before my boss returns from his honeymoon. I did get a "reader's card" here in Oxford though, so I can work from the beautiful Bodleian library and Radcliffe Camera when the mood strikes.

These are two pictures from my daily wander around town with the new camera. The camera is an excellent pet: it encourages you to go for walks but can actually come with you when you travel. Both pics are very cropped down from the original image, but hopefully any change in image quality is undetectable. I've noticed that I have a weakness for Oxford's many walls and gates, which are featuring heavily in my miscellaneous albums. The more moss and rust the better! Pheasants on said walls are just icing on the cake.

Playing with Photography: Baby Steps

Dave and I are still getting used to our new camera... it is definitely smarter than we are, for the moment. With every YouTube tutorial we watch, with every book we peruse, we get a little bit more comfortable with the gazillions of options provided by our little Nikon. But, ultimately, I sense that most of our education will be from taking pictures and then looking at them.

With that in mind, we're trying to take the camera on little walks around Oxford, to get some "exercise." Dave lives right on the Oxford canal, and it is a glorious walk up to Port Meadow, a large expanse of free land where anyone can let their horses and cows graze. Grass can't get any greener.

Even with our photography education in its infancy, pictures do just "look better" with the D5100. It could be a placebo effect, I suppose, wanting our expensive investment to bear fruit, but I think the colors are instantly more vivid and the focus much sharper than anything I could achieve with a little point-and-shoot. I'm enjoying the flexibility I have with choosing what is in focus, and obviously also what isn't in focus. Already we talk about wanting different lenses to play even more with this depth-of-field idea, but Dave and I have made a pact to not invest in any new lenses for at least six months while we really figure out what we're doing.

And, just in case it looks like only I am holding the camera and only Dave will be in any pictures, I promise that we do trade off from time to time! Here is me being silly in Dave's kitchen:

These aren't full size images, so please click on one for a more impressive view of all pics in this post. I'm going to probably dump all our photography play into one Picasa web album where people can check out the full photos if interested. Hopefully tomorrow I can head out in the snow (the UK was just gifted with a few fluffy white inches) and get a bit more practice in! Suggestions, advice, criticisms, encouragement all welcome as I try to make better pictures.

Oh heyyy there

Dave and I have a new toy! Meet George, our Nikon D5100

 Once we wrap our heads around how and what to photograph, we'll provide some eye candy.

Celebrating in Dublin

After a wonderful Christmas at home with family, I boarded yet another plane and headed back east. But unlike previous years, my plane was white and green with a shamrock on it, and headed to Dublin!

Kevin (my friend in Cardiff who happens to also be my boss) married Fiadhna just outside Dublin on New Year's Eve Eve. They'd been together for, er, roughly ten years I think, and are brilliantly well-matched. The wedding was constructed to make everyone feel welcome, and it incorporated boatloads of music. Fiadhna's family is seriously involved in Irish music, and the whole clan turned up with instruments. When I say seriously, think of them as an the von Trapp family of Ireland. The father of the bride wrote the music played as they walked down the aisle, performed by her brothers, and later on an entire room was colonized by the McEvoy clan and friends and the occasional impromptu ceilidh dance. Guests could meander between the band, the bar, and the folk music and back again, bumping into new friends and even catching a moment with the bride and groom over a proper pint of Guinness. The newlyweds were goofy-happy, and everyone was smiling with them. It was a joy to be around such a giddy pair of generous and hilarious people!

As seems to be the fashion, the wedding had a "part two" on the day after, which happened to be New Year's Eve in this case. Kev hired out the top floor of his favorite pub in the center of Dublin, the Stag's Head. He waxed poetic about the perfectly poured Guinness and the gentle care taken with the pipes, and I'll admit it was more than tasty. Almost everyone stuck around for the second night, the stress of the previous day disappearing with every pint.

I've learned that Ireland really is a tiny place... Alan (a friend from lab, but also from Dublin) brought his girlfriend Sinead as his plus-one, and she recognized several family friends! Ireland is friendly... even though it felt a little bit like junior prom, Alan's dad very kindly picked the four of us up in the wee hours of the morning to avoid us needing to drive after the wedding reception, and delivered me and Dave to our guesthouse, 30 minutes away. Ireland is tasty... we passed so many places I wanted to eat at! I'm already planning my next trip to Dublin with Sinead and Alan, because I really didn't get to see enough on this visit.

Now, I'm not particularly attached to the magical "midnight" moment of New Year's Eve, so I ushered Dave and me onto the airport shuttle bus about quarter of an hour earlier (rather like Cinderella, if I'm being generous, or like a fuddy duddy, if I'm being honest). About three hours of sleep at the airport hotel later, and we were back to the terminal and checking in to our flight to Edinburgh, where Dave's dad was very kindly picking us up. Another four days of rest and relaxation in Northumberland with his folks and we were speeding south to Oxford by train, and a day after that I finally made it back to my Cardiff flat, 3 weeks after I set off. Sure, my washing machine broke and my cold tap water smells worryingly of skunk, but it is good to be home.

Excellent traveling though!

Here is an album with captions from the Ireland portion of the trip:

Dublin Celebrations

Here are two videos from the wedding, including Fiadhna dancing with Kevin's dad and later joining in on concertina with the family band:

And an example of the family playing a big proper venue:

A Very Bright Christmas 2012

Christmas was perfect... it was good to be back home after a year away. Hopefully 2013 will find me back in Bayport more than once!

Our tree!

Our family tradition is to extend Christmas morning as long as possible. This used to be done with lots and lots more presents, but now with two "adult children" (as mom now calls us) this is done with many breaks for baking, coffee making, and eating. Now, I really love this in principle, but this year we were a little ridiculous! At one point I had to lay down the law and demand a continuous string of 4 presents in a row. Then I ate another sticky bun.

Before anyone could have known I would be a music nerd,
my Christmas stocking had three musical Santas

Christmas begins on Christmas eve of course. First we have the neighbors (plus a few almost-neighbors) over for brunch. This year I realized that Emma, the one actual child that comes to this event, has been going to this her entire life. It feels rather special to know that this new tradition, which I remember being created almost 10 years ago, will be one of those things she always associates with Christmas.

I usually open one present before midnight mass, which inevitably ends up to be something I can wear to church. This year I had a festive red scarf to go with my new little black dress (Yes, mom and I had an impressive pre-holiday shopping adventure that resulted in multiple dresses. If you are going to go shopping before Christmas, it is important to go with the person who has bought most of your presents so that you avoid overlap!)

Midnight mass was at 10 pm, obviously. The actual service was preceded by half an hour of music, and it was the usual suspects of assorted instrumentalists (plus Kate Stocker! Yay!) joining the massive choir that emerges from the woodwork for this one holiday and this one holiday only. Us musicians, well, we don't exactly rehearse for these gigs, so we can all be pleasantly pleased with how decently it comes together for the performance.

The next morning, before presents even begin, the sticky bun dough made the night before and left to slowly rise overnight is stretched and pounded into shape and rolled up into perfect parcels of cinnamon butter delight.

The family tradition of sticky-bun making on Christmas morning

Mom looking lovely in front of stockings hung by the chimney with care

Presents were stretched out into mid afternoon, across many sessions of sticky bun munching and general fuss in the kitchen. I also had to slip out to make my challah bread dough to fulfill my part of the family Christmas culinary traditions:

My 8-stranded braid of challah bread... baked it twice this holiday!

Barbara and Charlie from across the street joined us for our evening feast, making Christmas dinner about half the work it normally is and adding twice the company.

Mom and Barbara give a wave on Christmas day

What I don't have pictures of is the rest of this very relaxing visit home. Andy arrived late in my visit, as he was sent on a last minute business adventure to Japan this year. At least he made it home! Still, he displayed very entertaining jetlag, and often took over my dad's job of randomly dozing while the rest of us watched Smiley's People. As an extreme example of his condition, on his first night he was fading fast at 7pm. Knowing that it is important to power through, I put him to work icing cutout sugar cookies until 10. Andy.... icing cookies.... while half asleep.... this year's batch was "varied" to say the least :-p

I caught up with old friends as well. Cailin Wilke and her mom came over for a mother-daughter (and red wine) viewing of the movie Brave. Kate Stocker, following her impressive debut at Our Lady of the Snow, met up with me at Starbucks, the local reunion spot of choice, for a Boxing Day Lattay™. The next day I returned to Starbucks to see Glenn Dengeles, whom I hadn't seen since high school (ten years!). I know that I am not particularly attached to the Bayport community at this point, but coming home and reconnecting with people felt wonderful.

So family, friends, food... what more could a girl ask for? Merry Christmas everyone!