Panhandle peanut gallery.

I wore a neon green Rice t-shirt on a run in the park after work today.  Comments received:

“Jerry Rice—he was a good, good friend of mine muttermuttermuttermutter”

“You run to burn calories, but you wear rice on your shirt!  HA HA HA HA”

“Rice!  It’s what’s for dinner!”

“You don’t eat a lot of rice—I like you have no belly.”

WOW THANKS EVERYONE RICE FIGHT NEVER DIE

Harvey who?

I find myself in a familiar scenario—I fly tomorrow for the Dirty Jerz, my suitcase stubbornly remains unpacked, and I decide that now, 11:00pm, is a good time to sit down and blob.  At least I’ve packed the two critical items—my everything bagel and cream cheese making kit and my terry-cloth bathrobe. Whatever else I need I can probably steal from my sisters.  This has worked in the past.

But now I feel compelled to share some big, cheesy love for the first city that stole my heart—HOUSTON, you big, ugly, beautiful, delicious sprawl of a city.  Just writing the word “cheesy” made me hungry for the queso only you can provide.  Look what you’ve done to me.  I have you to thank for some of my best friendships and best memories.  I miss you, I love you, I’m proud of you.  The images from the hurricane boggle my mind and break my heart, so I went back through my own images of Houston to cheer myself up.  I hope they’ll do the same for you.

First, literal cheer.

Second, comfort food.

Third, weather you used to think was a disaster.

And fourth, the kind of downpours we prefer.

Please be mindful of your safety.

And know we've got your back.
(Friends, please consider donating to YES Prep Family Flood Relief fund. I used to coach at YES Prep--they are wonderful people.)

PS. Current presidents need not apply...

...Houston has enough dopey big heads!

Rice, fight, never die.

Last night, as I browsed Breitbart (as one does to court heart disease/lose IQ points/take years off one’s life), I was surprised to see a familiar name:

Nice try, Breitbart, but this photo is not from the Rice group hug, as that took place at night.

Rice University, my dear alma mater.  If Breitbart is mocking you, you know you’re doing something right.  Oh how I love thee.

I think the last time the internet mentioned us was back in 2011, during the Worst NCAA Basketball Championship Game In History.  UConn played Butler at Reliant Stadium in Houston, and both teams were absolutely miserable.  The game was so boring that the cameras kept panning over to show the section of Rice students holding signs that said “We’re just happy to be here”.  Apparently we were trending on Twitter during the game as many people were like, “what is Rice #worstgameever”.

So here we are, back in the internet spotlight—this time featured on the official news outlet of the Trump White House no less!

The article laments a group hug conducted by Rice students as “just another in a series of campus coddling events that have occurred at universities across the United States in response to Trump’s victory.”  Please watch the video in the link and judge for yourself if this was a “campus coddling event”.  In true Rice fashion, this is the most awkward group hug imaginable.  It’s not even a hug.  I’m actually disappointed—I was hoping for a big hugging mob (not MOB) (Rice joke) around Willy’s statue.  Instead, they just stand there linking arms and eventually start singing the Rice song because it must have been too awkward to stand there in silence.  Is this really news, Breitbart?  Can’t you guys, like, I don’t know, get a life?  Leave my Owls alone?

Because my blood pressure was not high enough, I braved a trip to the comment section.  Oh the rewards.

Interesting you'd mention "moral compass", Wagoner.

Pretty sure they are still getting drunk and laid, but they are also managing to learn EMPATHY--a lesson you may have missed...along with grammar.  Go back to ignoring minorities.

Hoooooo hoooo hoooo "simpering nancies"!!!  "Bottom feeders of society"!!!!  Bless you, ArsenicSundae.  At the risk of sounding too tri-coastal elite (Gulf Coast, what up), I can't wait to tell all my Rice doctor friends what bottom feeders they are.

Seriously, you don't want to know what my Rice friends are doing with their pathetic lives.  But I won't be so gauche as to list them out.

But here it gets interesting:

Killin' it, Cath.  THEY CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH.

I'm not sure we could find an exchange that better sums up what is wrong about Breitbart.  Denial of an account that does not align with the propaganda, preferencing "my reading of what happened" over "what actually happened", patronizing an entire generation and denying its value, only accepting their definition of "Conservative".

Cathy’s story is absolutely plausible.  A "can't we just hug this election out" group hug feels a lot more Rice than "omg what are we gonna do Trump is president now" group hug.  Rice is still in Texas, y'all.  There are Republicans there.  But as Cathy so aptly points out, the truth does not fit the Breitbart narrative.  Empathy on college campuses does not fit the narrative.  

---

I'd ignore Breitbart were it not for the fact its chairman, Steve Bannon, will be president-elect Trump's chief strategist.  Breitbart and the "alt-right" are no longer "fringe"—Trump has given them the legitimacy of a coveted White House role.  If Bannon has zero moral qualms about promoting ignorance, insinuating anti-Semitism, or giving voice to white nationalists, what will he do when he has the ear of the president?

I'll leave you with one last bit from the comment section:  

Jacktee, at least we can agree on that.

Hypochondriacal tendencies.

My moral code and habits for health and safety are generally so ingrained that I don’t have to actively make rules to protect myself from my temptations.  The only exception is this: “Never go on WebMD.”  I am very good at following this rule in times of health, but in times of sickness, I am very susceptible.  Last night, I succumbed.

After work, I went with a group from the office to Autodesk’s Design Night.  It was very cool—interesting models and exhibits, good speakers, open bar, good (?) food, and music.  We had a fun time, but I headed home before the rest of the group because I had to get up for an appointment at the DMV (plan: get CA driver’s license, register to vote).  Almost as soon as I walked in the door, I got this sudden, sharp pain in my stomach just below my ribcage.  It was unlike any kind of pain I can remember ever having.  I lay down on the couch to see if it would go away, but it just got worse.  Commence, my inner dialogue.

Rational Claire: Stay calm.  You are fine.  Maybe some indigestion or perhaps you ate something bad.

Hypochondriac Claire: We’re dying.  Oh my God, we’re dying. 

Rational Claire: Ignore her.  Breathe…..

Hypochondriac Claire: You should probably go to the emergency room.  If your appendix ruptures, you could die.

Rational Claire: You probably just need to throw up.  It’s a perfectly normal thing our body does to expel things that don’t make us happy.

Hypochondric Claire:  DO NOT LISTEN TO THAT RATIONAL BITCH.  WE HATE THROWING UP.  REMEMBER HOW MUCH WE HATE THROWING UP?  WE WOULD RATHER SUFFER FOR HOURS DELAYING THAT TERRIBLE MOMENT.

Rational Claire:  Right, but you’ll feel so much better after you throw up.

Hypochondriac Claire: IT’S A TRAP.  DO.  NOT.  THROW.  UP.  NEVER.  SURRENDER.

(I surrender.  But still have this stabbing stomach pain.)

HC: Oh my God, shouldn’t we be feeling better?  You said we would feel better.  We are NOT FEELING BETTER.  WHAT IS THIS PAIN.  WHAT IS HAPPENING.

RC: Ok, how about we just hang out on the couch for a bit—

HC:  WHERE IS WILL.  WHERE IS HE. 

RC:  Will went to a wedding in Houston.  Relax, you are an independent woman.

HC:  JESUS WHAT IS HAPPENING.  IS THIS A KIDNEY STONE?  You should call Erin.  She had a kidney stone.

RC:  It’s 3AM for Erin.  She is asleep and getting a call in the middle of the night will really freak her out.  You know that better than I do, Hypochondriac Claire.  I really don’t think this is a kidney stone—

HC: WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT KIDNEY STONES?  NOTHING.  YOU KNOW NOTHING.  YOU KNOW WHO DOES?  WebMD.

RC:  Wait, wait, wait, wait.  We should not go to WebMD.  That is a mistake and you know it.  Wouldn’t we be dead several times over if WebMD were always right?  Do we have HIV?  No.  Do we have diabetes?  No.  Have we ever had a heart attack?  No. 

HC: YOUNG FEMALES HAVE HEART ATTACKS.  They are more likely to ignore the symptoms and therefore more likely to DIE.

RC:  Alright, but have we ever had one?

HC:  Maybe this is a heart attack.

RC:  This is not a heart attack.  This is our stomach.  Focus.

HC:  That’s it.  WebMD Symptom Checker, here we come.

RC:  NO.

(I open the computer, type webmd into browser…)

RC:  Claire, do you really want to do this?

No, but………..

HC: HIT ENTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I hit enter.  I put my symptoms into the Symptom Checker.)

RC:  Well, well, well, would you look at that?  Top three possible conditions: Indigestion, Gastritis, Muscle Strain.  And look, stomach cancer is the very last result.  I think we’re gonna be okay.

HC:  Ok, but…….H. Pylori……..

RC:  We do not have an H. Pylori infection.

HC:  Wow, I am…so…tired.

RC:  Let’s try to get some sleep.

I moved to the bed.  I’ll spare you the rest of the night, but thankfully, Rational Claire (mostly) prevailed and we all managed to get a bit of sleep.  Rational Claire does need to give WebMD some credit…it actually helped talk Hysterical Claire down from a ledge.

I missed my appointment at the DMV (also could not find passport until much later…) so I will have to reschedule.  But I am feeling better now and actually starting to feel hungry.  I might go make some rice and watch Inside Out.

Blobba Kucha.

1.  Will and I are proud that a fellow Rice Owl's theory that Ted Cruz is the Zodiac killer has gained traction on the internet and was even a polling question in Florida.

2.  I sadly bid farewell to Jeb.  The GOP wades ever deeper into whackadoodle waters, confidently spurning all life-preservers of calmness and reason.  Lindsey Graham put it well today, describing his own party as "the team that bought a ticket on the Titanic, after we saw the movie."

3.  Here is the bonus slide from my Pecha Kucha presentation today at work.

Nerd alert.

Last night, I finally embarked on a self-imposed assignment that I have procrastinated for almost a year.  Last night, I finally got cozy with Martin van Buren.

Be still my heart.

About six years ago, Erin and I made a pact to read a biography of each president, starting with George Washington on down.  Erin quickly abandoned our agreement, but I forged ahead.  In 2009, I read His Excellency: George Washington by Joseph Ellis, John Adams by David McCullough, and American Sphinx: The Character of Thomas Jefferson by Joseph Ellis again.  Then, faced with the incredible 760-page hulk, James Madison: A Biography by Ralph Ketcham, given to me by Uncle Pat, I took a three-year hiatus from the project in order to pursue other interests, like getting a boyfriend.  In 2013, I was ready to dive back in.  I tackled and defeated James Madison.  Invigorated by my victory, I went backwards in time to read ANOTHER book about Thomas Jefferson—Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power by Jon Meacham.  In 2014, I read The Last Founding Father: James Monroe and a Nation’s Call to Greatness by Harlow Giles Unger, who would have you believe that James Monroe single-handedly won the American Revolution.  I will not be reading any more biographies by Harlow Giles Unger.  I then read John Quincy Adams: A Public Life, A Private Life by Paul Nagel and finished out the year with American Lion: Andrew Jackson in the White House by Jon Meacham. 

After Andrew Jackson, I peered out over a long stretch of boring until Abraham Lincoln.  But, as a later president once said at Rice University, “We do not do these things because they are easy—we do them because they are hard.”  And actually, I’m lying when I say I’m bored by the idea of reading about these dudes (why would I do this to myself if that were the case??).  Martin van Buren (MVB, as I will affectionately call him from here onward) gets a lot of airtime in American Lion, and definitely piqued my interest.  I’m also looking forward to the John Tyler presidency (annexation of Texas, baby!).

So I researched which MVB biography to read, and as it turns out, there are not too many options.  The only people reading about him are reading a biography on every president.  The only people writing about him are doing a deep dive for some obscure dissertation.  My options were the 700-page version or the 500-page version.  Not that I don’t want to give MVB a fair shake, but I went with the 500-pager.  Hopefully I can still get the full picture.  I will report back when I am done.

I’m sure you are all curious as to my assessments of the presidents I have read so far (that is, if you haven’t already had the joy of hearing me discuss them in person).  It’s bedtime here, so I will have to save that for another post.  I will leave you with the man of the hour, MVB.  He was supposedly quite the snappy dresser in his younger years.