This is my third attempt at publishing this blog. Why you ask?? Hmmmm.. Very good question, quite timely and precise! Well folks, it sadens me to tell you that lady luck is not on my side these few days. My career has suffered a great blow. I know Graduate Assistanship hardly qualifies as a career, but still it is what I have been occupying myself with for the past year and a half, and as a result, my nagging skills and techniques have grown sharper than ever, so GA, by all means, qualifies as a career! With my previous GA supervisor, I used to work in a private research lab, CRPH, Center for Research on Population Health. We used to be around eight girls, always occupied with something. Whenever you'd go in, all you would hear is the sound of shuffling of paper, and ofcourse the continuous frantic tapping on keyborads with our illuminated faces staring at blinking monitors, some for purposes of actual research, and others for the delight chatting on msn with yoru friends brings, especially in a work environment. I belonged to the latter group of people, of course! I did research, but I also chatted, and blogged, and listened to music. In short, I multi-tasked! I did have my privilages there. It was like being a member of an elitist club. Plenty of resources to use and abuse, and I must admit, I did my share of using, not abusing though! Instead of cigars and fine wine, there was the printer, a photocopy machine, and a phoneline.

I felt like I was in some teacher's lounge at Hravard, but quite devoid of all
the intellectual discussions that might take place there.

Those were the days. Then the semester came to an end. My GA contract was renewed, naturally, but my supervisor has changed. A move that I didn't realize would cost me my distinguished seat at the CRPH, a three wheeled black leather seat that I was and still am willing to fight for and hold on to just as tight as our highly regarded president clings to his presidential chair. Unfortunately, my new supervosir is not on good terms with the professor in charge of the CRPH lab. Come think of it, I am not sure he was so keen on having me there to begin with. Whenever he went into the lab, he would fire glances at me, satanic looks that seemed to be drenched with hatered and resentment for my very existance. Could it be the music that would be playing EVERY single time he happened to be there, or maybe the sudden alerts I got from all the popping chat windows. Regardless, I didn't have to report to him, he was not my supervisor. So anyways, seems my chances of getting back into the lab are dwindling by the day, so yseterday I went to collect my 'box'. You know in Hollywood movies, whenever they let an employee go, they usually get this box, where they put all there personal belongings, mugs, pictures, papers, calender, a stapler (usually it belongs to the office!)- and because simply you wouldn't see a day coming when you will actually have to vacate, and so you make your office just a tiny bit less comfortable than your own home.

Until recently I have been carrying my things around the faculty to settle somewhere. Most of the time, I end up in the faculty's computer lab, a place for commoners, where all people share one printer, talk, make sounds with their chewing gums, a place where MSN is not installed, web MSN is blocked and I can't even right-click on my mouse for 'security' issues! Worst of all, the internet there is extremely slow, which explains why I have failed to publish this entry earlier. But today I got an idea. My supervisor's office has an extra desk, and with the wireless internet all around campus, I have set up my new desk! Access to her office is not an issue as I can get the keys from the librarian anytime I want. My desk is situated next to a window with a view, some plants too, and a hand weaved canvas hanging on the wall facing me. The only disadvantage is that it gets pretty warm in here sometimes, but it is a low price to pay for the refuge I got in Room 318, my new headquarters!

I would hate for my come back to be a sad one, so I shall not dwell on what seemed to be the never ending fall semester that me and a bunch of other unfortunate MPH students had to endure, nor will I tell you how terrible it feels to have your grandfather pass away, especially when it is right in the middle of your final exams period. Thankfully, I was surrounded by amazing people and friends who stood by me and helped me get through… To them I am eternally grateful. As for my grades, well I passed my courses, rather beautifully if I may add.

On an even lighter note, I really feel the urge to share with you an incident that happened to me recently. A typical "Seinfeld moment". For those of you who watch the show, you will know what I am talking about. Seinfeld is a sitcom, almost 25 minutes of events that seem irrelevant, but somehow intertwine and echo a common theme in the end. Usually the characters are stuck in awkward situations, say weird things, and always, always manage to get misunderstood some way or another.

Anyway, here's what happened. I am a much unorganized person when it comes to my personal belongings, and I always carry too much luggage with me. Practically anyone can track me down because of the trace of things that fall off of me as I walk around the campus. In all cases, since winter time has come, I decided to buy an umbrella, a big one; because if I buy something tiny and practical, that can make my life much easier, and we don't want that to happen, now would we?! It had a bright red color, with floral arrangements of dark blue and green scattered over its surface. It had a distinctive feature; its handle was light brown, except for a one big dark brown spot. During December, I'm not sure when exactly, I had the umbrella with me as I attended my class, but not so surprisingly, left an hour and a half later without it. What bugs me most is that it only dawns on me days after my things have gone missing. [The mere thought freaks out my father, as he ponders on the future of my children, slipping down my waist into the street accidentally, and me only realizing it several weeks later, also by accident.]

In any case, three weeks later I happened to be passing by that very same class, and there it stood; flaming red, dripping because of the rain, wide open with all its dazzling beauty and majestic colors, and the dark brown spot on the handle… Oh joy!! My umbrella has returned. In fact, it was beckoning me to pick it up and carry it around, and later probably drop it somewhere else and forget it again. But that was not the point, the point was, my umbrella was there for to reclaim. I headed straight towards it, and I was just about to fold it when I realized what was going on. Someone was actually using my umbrella, hence the rain droplets on its surface. I felt confused, and angry, and tricked. I felt like Kramer in a "Seinfeld moment". In an attempt at self-consolation, I mumbled 'well …at least I don't feel like George Costanza'. I mean, I wasn't insecure or panicky, just confused and bluffed. Say you loose an item, an umbrella for instance (oh how relevant!), how much time should pass before you loose possession over it? Before it becomes 'public property' and up for grabs? Finders keepers is a fine proverb, but definitely an incomplete one at that. Finders keepers after ______ is more like it! In the blank goes a measurable unit of time, 4 days, 2 weeks, 70 hours, depending on the materialistic value of the item at hand. That's just wishful thinking, I agree. But I really wish some people had the decency not to put anything they come across into their personal use and benefit, before at least asking if other people own that article and verifying that it didn’t just fall right off from the sky.

I thought about it, and maybe three weeks is a more than enough of a time interval for my umbrella to become public goods, so I decided not to pick it up, let go, and suffer the consequences. Little did I know that the worst was yet to come.

Only a few days after my encounter with my ex-umbrella, I was working in the faculty lounge. It was pouring, a typical January day in Lebanese crazy weather, and I had to go half way across the campus to get a book from the library. I stood outside, waiting for the rain to die down, when it happened again, another "Seinfeld moment". Only this time, I felt like George Costanza, actually I think I WAS George Costanza. You see I was waiting, and waiting, and all of a sudden, I see my umbrella, carried around by its new owner, a happy lady, walking around confidently, sheltered from the rain. I looked in disbelief, as I was genuinely hurt. I strained to see, to make sure, and yes, it was my umbrella. I even got to see the dark brown spot on its handle, because God forbid that lady luck could spare me the shred of a doubt to soothe my pain by thinking that it could be, just could be, an identical but not the same umbrella. But noooo… It just had to flash before my eyes, that stupid dark brown spot.

I cursed my luck, I cursed the rain, I even cursed my decency, and went back into the lounge thinking 'Hmmm… what's that I see on the table?? why it's an abandoned umbrella!' Needless to say, I took it, assuming that it's been there for more than just three weeks! I did have a book to fetch after all!