Conference and the End of the Semester

La Jolla

The funny part about going to conferences at the beginning of your career/job is that you are at least 2 decades younger than anyone there. I'm not sure how long I will be doing the job I am doing, but for the moment I am content. I struggle with wanting to advance up the ladder because I'm already good at and familiar with my job, and leaving for greener grass as a neuroscience grad student and being the professor I've always dreamed of. Where will I end up? Ehh. Your guess is as good as mine.

All I know is, I'm a oddity at these things, but I managed to get as much out of it as I could. It was nice to escape the ABQ area for a while, and all the trouble of work and chaos of home. I didn't not wake up to dog kisses urging me to release them for potties, but to a cell phone alarm. Hmm. Not as nice or gentle a wake up. I did get my own hotel room and bad cable TV. I stocked up at Ralph's on munches and Sofia Coppola mini cans of champagne. I only buy the cans of champagne, as they are tasty and do not require working fingers/hands to pop a cork. I have always and will always be terrified of opening a bottle of champagne. I can only imagine the damage I would inflict on my 'weenie' hand should it all go awry. Yes, I am a coward.

Every night after the conference was over,  I would get to venture out into the area. The second night we went to La Jolla, the third Balboa Island, and the last was a special dinner aboard the USS Midway. I had never been aboard a aircraft carrier before. In fact I have never really done anything vaguely military related other than Arlington National cemetery. Growing up, my family was not militarily inclined. My father while 6'4 and imposing, is a pacifist. I can never imagine him striking anyone or thing. My mother's older brother Philip died when he was 18 in Vietnam. My house did not make for a pro-military house. In fact I was the black sheep when I decided I wanted to join the army/some branch at 17. It did not occur to me that having had arthritis since I was 11, they would not want me. I didn't actually make it that far, but I did see a recruiter and ponder it a bit. It's funny the things that you can never do don't really occur to you until much later.

I had a dream of being a bad-ass FBI agent. I really, really wanted to be a bad-ass FBI agent. Now, I know this would never happen. I cannot load a clip. I can fire with difficulty and enjoy target practice, but I cannot load a clip. There are a host of other things as well; I could not do the training required at Quantico; Hell the stress of taking the entrance exam would probably give me a flare-up. Ugh. I will never be a bad-ass.