girl power ... for real
[thursday] 06 08 06
Yesterday I stopped the subway doors from closing with my body. I felt like such a bad ass. A few of us interns were coming back from a meet ‘n greet happy hour thing at an over priced bar (wouldn’t you think they’d pick someplace cheap considering it was an event for interns, many of whom aren’t paid?) and we were too busy talking to realize we had reached our stop. At the last minute, I looked up to see a 14th Street sign tacked to the pillar on the platform just as the doors were closing. I jumped up, sprinted to the door and pushed out with all my mite until I hear the “da-ding” that means an obstacle is preventing a door somewhere on the train from closing. The sound of success — that obstacle was me.
I’m mentally and emotionally drained. But I have a lot of recapping to do and maybe writing will clear my head. I apologize if this isn’t the most eloquently written entry. Tuesday I went to the Yankess-Red Sox game – Kristen came with me, more for the experience than the baseball game, and I don’t think she was disappointed.
Let me tell you somethings about Yankee Stadium.
1. You can’t get toppings on your hotdogs. Just packets of ketchup and mustard. Even though they have grilled onions back there for the sausages they sell, they refuse to put it on a hotdog.
2. They don’t serve beer in the bleachers. You can’t even go below, buy a beer and drink it inside. The whole bleacher seating section is separate from the rest of the stadium. It’s literally a separate entity.
There’s absolutely no excuse for number one. Number two, however, I came to understand why. The Yankee’s bleachers are different from Wrigley’s. The back row stands up against the wall and heckles fans—verbally and physically—of the other team the entire time. They yell shit and throw shit and I can only imagine that they’d get more physical if they were allowed to drink for seven innings. By the third inning, the entire back row was kicked out of the game – only to be refilled by a new row of people. Then that group was thrown out. They cycle then repeats itself a few times. It was pretty entertaining, especially since it was the greatest rivalry in baseball. They didn’t let people in wearing Red Sox Suck shirts, which I thought was kind of stupid (prior restraint is illegal, even in the case of T-shirts, If I could remember that far back to Helle’s class I could site the exact case. I’ll get back to you).
Even with the lack of beer the game was a great time. I of course wore a Cubs shirt so that made for interesting conversation from the minute I got on the subway in times square through the ballpark and all the way back to union square that night. My response to why I like the Cubs to everyone who asked “we serve beer in the bleachers.” No one could argue with that. I was sitting behind the flagpole, which incidentally is right where Melky made the amazing catch to keep Boston from pulling ahead and possible winning the game. The next night, at that meet ‘n great, they were airing the game during the scheduled game’s rain delay and I was able to pick myself out in the crowd when they showed the play – I was the only on in Cubby blue. It made for another good conversation with my fellow barstool patrons who were sick of shaking hands and “I’m _______. I’m interning at ___________. How about you?” (that got old after two minutes).
Back in the bleachers, I made friends with a family from the Bronx. They bought me hotdogs and shared their peanuts with me. It was fun to have someone to talk shit with as I was rooting for the Sox and they for the Yankees. The mother, Kathy, was funny as hell and the father and uncle were jokers too. Good people.
Work’s been keeping me very busy. Yesterday, I brought tapes home to transcribe and today I work from 9-8. I did, however, get to leave the office for a couple hours to attend the L’Oreal Women in Science Fellowship awards ceremony. It was very empowering. I know that sounds corny, but its really the only way I can describe it. The fellowship awards $20,000 for a woman doing post-doctoral research in any science or medicine related field. The reason they target post-doctoral scientists is because that’s the point in their career many women drop out of the field in order to become mothers. They addressed the issues so many women deal with regarding motherhood and career choices. For example, how can I be a good mother if I’m doing field research in southern Chiapas, Mexico six months out of the year? How can I be a good scientist if I’m not doing field research as much as I should be in order to raise my children. One woman, the scientist I interviewed for the pop mech blog (I’ll link to it when its online), specifically thanked her boyfriend for supporting her while she spent two years in Mexico – and now look at her, getting this amazing award and doing amazing things (this woman specifically researched the effects of hurricanes on shade-grown coffee plantations. This was only because she’d been researching the biodiversity of different types of coffee fields – shade-grown, treeless and in between – for eight years then Hurricane Stan hit the area she was studying). It really made me think about what I want in life, career-wise and family-wise. Women today are lucky in the sense that we don’t have to fight for our education. Yes, there’s still discrimination in the work force and in education, but it’s not like it used to be. Older women scientists, many who paved the way for the women they were awarding to get to their position, presented all the awards. Of course, if a woman wants to put her career on hold, or even end it totally, in order to make a family, that is absolutely fine and is by no means succumbing to the “female role” — it’s the fact that she has a choice in the matter that counts.
At the luncheon I sat next to a woman who’s putting together a Science Festival in Manhattan in 2008. She gave me her card and told me to call her if I decide to move to Manhattan because she’d love to have me on her team. She’s the president and CEO of the organization. I put myself out on a limb and gave her my card (ha, I love that I can do that, even though it’s a buzz card) and offered to do any stringing on the UIUC campus for her. She accepted.
I found some dudes a few floors below who watch lost and smoke. I felt like I was back in Evan’s living room. I'm still staying off the lost message boards, even though my supervisor at work is always trying to send me links to spoiler sights.
Tomorrow’s Friday, thank god. I bought myself New York City’s Best Dive Bars and I’m going to test some out tomorrow. Good night.
Yesterday I stopped the subway doors from closing with my body. I felt like such a bad ass. A few of us interns were coming back from a meet ‘n greet happy hour thing at an over priced bar (wouldn’t you think they’d pick someplace cheap considering it was an event for interns, many of whom aren’t paid?) and we were too busy talking to realize we had reached our stop. At the last minute, I looked up to see a 14th Street sign tacked to the pillar on the platform just as the doors were closing. I jumped up, sprinted to the door and pushed out with all my mite until I hear the “da-ding” that means an obstacle is preventing a door somewhere on the train from closing. The sound of success — that obstacle was me.
I’m mentally and emotionally drained. But I have a lot of recapping to do and maybe writing will clear my head. I apologize if this isn’t the most eloquently written entry. Tuesday I went to the Yankess-Red Sox game – Kristen came with me, more for the experience than the baseball game, and I don’t think she was disappointed.
Let me tell you somethings about Yankee Stadium.
1. You can’t get toppings on your hotdogs. Just packets of ketchup and mustard. Even though they have grilled onions back there for the sausages they sell, they refuse to put it on a hotdog.
2. They don’t serve beer in the bleachers. You can’t even go below, buy a beer and drink it inside. The whole bleacher seating section is separate from the rest of the stadium. It’s literally a separate entity.
There’s absolutely no excuse for number one. Number two, however, I came to understand why. The Yankee’s bleachers are different from Wrigley’s. The back row stands up against the wall and heckles fans—verbally and physically—of the other team the entire time. They yell shit and throw shit and I can only imagine that they’d get more physical if they were allowed to drink for seven innings. By the third inning, the entire back row was kicked out of the game – only to be refilled by a new row of people. Then that group was thrown out. They cycle then repeats itself a few times. It was pretty entertaining, especially since it was the greatest rivalry in baseball. They didn’t let people in wearing Red Sox Suck shirts, which I thought was kind of stupid (prior restraint is illegal, even in the case of T-shirts, If I could remember that far back to Helle’s class I could site the exact case. I’ll get back to you).
Even with the lack of beer the game was a great time. I of course wore a Cubs shirt so that made for interesting conversation from the minute I got on the subway in times square through the ballpark and all the way back to union square that night. My response to why I like the Cubs to everyone who asked “we serve beer in the bleachers.” No one could argue with that. I was sitting behind the flagpole, which incidentally is right where Melky made the amazing catch to keep Boston from pulling ahead and possible winning the game. The next night, at that meet ‘n great, they were airing the game during the scheduled game’s rain delay and I was able to pick myself out in the crowd when they showed the play – I was the only on in Cubby blue. It made for another good conversation with my fellow barstool patrons who were sick of shaking hands and “I’m _______. I’m interning at ___________. How about you?” (that got old after two minutes).
Back in the bleachers, I made friends with a family from the Bronx. They bought me hotdogs and shared their peanuts with me. It was fun to have someone to talk shit with as I was rooting for the Sox and they for the Yankees. The mother, Kathy, was funny as hell and the father and uncle were jokers too. Good people.
Work’s been keeping me very busy. Yesterday, I brought tapes home to transcribe and today I work from 9-8. I did, however, get to leave the office for a couple hours to attend the L’Oreal Women in Science Fellowship awards ceremony. It was very empowering. I know that sounds corny, but its really the only way I can describe it. The fellowship awards $20,000 for a woman doing post-doctoral research in any science or medicine related field. The reason they target post-doctoral scientists is because that’s the point in their career many women drop out of the field in order to become mothers. They addressed the issues so many women deal with regarding motherhood and career choices. For example, how can I be a good mother if I’m doing field research in southern Chiapas, Mexico six months out of the year? How can I be a good scientist if I’m not doing field research as much as I should be in order to raise my children. One woman, the scientist I interviewed for the pop mech blog (I’ll link to it when its online), specifically thanked her boyfriend for supporting her while she spent two years in Mexico – and now look at her, getting this amazing award and doing amazing things (this woman specifically researched the effects of hurricanes on shade-grown coffee plantations. This was only because she’d been researching the biodiversity of different types of coffee fields – shade-grown, treeless and in between – for eight years then Hurricane Stan hit the area she was studying). It really made me think about what I want in life, career-wise and family-wise. Women today are lucky in the sense that we don’t have to fight for our education. Yes, there’s still discrimination in the work force and in education, but it’s not like it used to be. Older women scientists, many who paved the way for the women they were awarding to get to their position, presented all the awards. Of course, if a woman wants to put her career on hold, or even end it totally, in order to make a family, that is absolutely fine and is by no means succumbing to the “female role” — it’s the fact that she has a choice in the matter that counts.
At the luncheon I sat next to a woman who’s putting together a Science Festival in Manhattan in 2008. She gave me her card and told me to call her if I decide to move to Manhattan because she’d love to have me on her team. She’s the president and CEO of the organization. I put myself out on a limb and gave her my card (ha, I love that I can do that, even though it’s a buzz card) and offered to do any stringing on the UIUC campus for her. She accepted.
I found some dudes a few floors below who watch lost and smoke. I felt like I was back in Evan’s living room. I'm still staying off the lost message boards, even though my supervisor at work is always trying to send me links to spoiler sights.
Tomorrow’s Friday, thank god. I bought myself New York City’s Best Dive Bars and I’m going to test some out tomorrow. Good night.
posted by Erin at 12:14 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home