Dangerous around nog
a while back, I bought Kev a giant jar of cashews from Costco. Actually this was the smaller container. STILL HUGE! He’s been eating from it for over a month.
they are whole! and fancy!
and they come with the best warning label in the ingredients:
OH MY GOD! IT HAS CASHEWS IN IT? I HAD NO IDEA!
well, it was funny for us.
I have not posted anything of substance lately, I know.
Substance? HA! Like dirty monkey sex stories? pft. you’ve NEVER had anything with substance here.
Shut up.
Anyway…it’s because, as many of you know, I am in the final throes of graduate school. This is the most painful phase, called “writing.” After collecting and incubating years and years worth of data, I now must give birth to an elegantly written explanation, summary, and defense of all that data.
Folks, I think this is a breach birth. or this sucker is coming out sideways. It’s pretty painful.
Actually, I’m not solely working on my thesis, I am working on a paper of my main project in the lab that will be submitted to a journal for publication . the nice thing is, with a few edits and additions of some “eh” data, this paper will also be the bulk of my thesis. Copy. Paste. Print.
The thing that is making this so difficult is that word that can either bring tears to the eyes, or send shivers down the spine of any graduate student: collaboration
A collaboration means that you take your data and someone else’s data (often from another lab, at another school), both of which might be slightly weak on their own, but together make for a stronger paper. You both get 1st author on the paper, and everyone is happy.
Except I’M the one writing this paper. The girl I collaborated with wrote her thesis and is GONE. I have her thesis to work from, and now I must mesh her data and mine into a beautiful tapestry that tells a story and has an easy to follow ending.
Oh, and while our projects are similar (how else could we combine them?), our…research focus is different. Without giving too much away, and to totally confuse those of you who can’t remember 9th grade biology, she worked with a meiosis assay, while mine is mitotic.
Not such a big deal, especially when you’re just writing up the methods, and then describing the data. Everything can be kept separately. here is my stuff, here is her stuff.
BUT…
the discussion section. OH MY GOD, THE DISCUSSION! Where everything has to be wrapped up neatly in a little bundle! Where I find the intersection of my data and hers, and come up with some universal model that explains them both! Genius! Neat! Elegant!
I
.
.
.
CAN’T
.
.
.
DO IT!!!
I’m trying. I really am. But I feel like every time I try to type something scholarly and succinct, what I’m really doing is just barfing all over the screen. Yep, here you go, Dr. Adviser…barf paper! Mind the chunks, they’re nasty!
So that, dear friends, is the reason for my crap posts that are half pictures, and my general absence in commentsville. I do still read you, I promise. But only a few at a time, stolen pieces of time while I eat lunch, or to calm me down and keep me from hurling my laptop at the wall (i’ve come close, believe me).
I remember a talk I had with Brenda, a previous graduate student in the lab and occasional reader here (HI BRENDA!), after she had finished writing her thesis. She said, and I’m paraphrasing here, “You know when Jenny was writing hers and having all those problems, I remember thinking ‘I’m a good writer, this is not going to be so difficult for me.’ But ESC, it IS hard. So very hard. It’s the hardest thing and most painful thing I’ve ever had to write. you might think it will be easy but IT WON’T. IT WILL BE VERY DIFFICULT.”
Brenda, I miss our little pep talks. You always knew how to cheer me up.
So yeah, it’s hard. Vomit inducing hard. And OH MY GOD thank JESUS for pills, because without my happy pills, none of this would be working out for me AT ALL. I just turned in draft #5 (a day late. oops. did I mention how hard the discussion section is?), which is PROGRESS people. PROGRESS!
Now I’m going to go over the draft again and fix all the little typos I made and missed during the 20 reads of the paper before I turned it in, which she will find and mark and send back to me. Because I always do stupid shit like that. I also need more references. Just how many references does one sentence need? 2? 8? I MUST REFERENCE EVERYONE IN HISTORY WHO MENTIONS THIS GENE IN ANY CONTEXT!
No.
Alright, I need food - I think my blood sugar MIGHT be a touch low…ya think?
Kev: my elbow still hurts. is it red?
ESC: yeah, a little
Kev: wow…feel the heat coming off of it
ESC: yep, definitely not good
Kev: I think it might be what you had a while back, on your leg?
ESC: possibly
Kev: yeah I think I might have mastitis
ESC: …
ESC: uhhh…do you know what mastitis is
Kev: yeah…wait…what? no…
ESC: HAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!
Kev: it STARTS with an M, doesn’t it?
ESC: HAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!
Kev: shut up
**********************
Today we decided to go see Pirates of the Caribbean at the cheapie theater, and then have dinner out. Since I’ve decided to be somewhat girly lately, I decided to wear a skirt - though it’s dark sage green, so it’s not TOO frilly. I paired it with a purply camisole and a matching green cardigan (it was somewhat warm today). When it was time to go, I realized I had a footwear problem. It was too cool for sandals, especially since we would be out until dark, when it gets cold. But I wasn’t about to put on pantyhose.
Quickly, I grabbed the socks Julie knit me, which ended up matching PERFECTLY…but I still didn’t know what shoes to wear. Kev was getting impatient, so I put on the black loafers.
Kev: No one’s gonna care
On the way to the theater, I realized that earlier, when the skirt pocket (a pocket! in my skirt! so handy!) had caught on a piece of furniture, it had torn a hole.
Kev: do you want to go back?
ESC: *sigh* no. it’s not so noticeable.
*looking over my outfit: ripped skirt, slubby cardigan, funky knit socks, and black loafers*
ESC: I look like the “before” person on “what not to wear”
Kev: hehehehehe
ESC: I can hear Stacey and Clinton now…”your skirt is RIPPED! what were you THINKING? and what is up with those SHOES??? You’re almost 30 and you’re dressing like a teenager!”
I am a fashion failure
**************
and…FINALLY…
I just spent AN HOUR knitting swatches on various sized needles, trying to get the right gauge for a pattern…finally found one that worked, and started knitting…only to see this at the top of the instructions:
“This pattern is worked with two strands of yarn held together throughout”
GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
dammit.
********************
AND NOW A BONUS MORONIC TALE OF HORROR!
Scene: this morning, getting ready for church
ESC: hmmm…i have 10 extra minutes! score! i can make a bagel! Ok…where is that small bread knife…dammit…did i put that in the goodwill box? *sigh* OK, I’ll grab the wusthof bread knife for this weeny bagel and I’ll just get through this…
YEEEOUUWWWCH!
Kev: from bedroom - What? What happened?
ESC: goddammit I cut my thumb on the goddamn bread knife.
OK, irony moment. I registered for and received a nice selection of Wusthof knives. They are great, and they are SHARP. My mom got me the starter set, and in addition, bought me this metal “finger guard” for when you’re chopping vegetables, to protect the fingers on your left hand while you hold said veggie. I haven’t used it yet, but let me just say that my knives are WICKED sharp. A huge chef’s knife. An evil looking boning knife. A small but deadly paring knife, etc etc, you get the picture they are ALL VERY SHARP.
and WHAT do I slice the knuckle of my thumb WIDE open with?
THE FUCKING BREAD KNIFE!!!
I soaked through an entire paper towel, before Kev and I managed to get a small bandaid wrapped TIGHT around the knuckle, followed by a BIG bandaid wrapped around my entire thumb, adding more pressure, and keeping my thumb from bending, which would just open up the wound again.
I told myself if I had bled through both bandaids by the end of church, I would just go straight to the hospital for stitches. fortunately, it didn’t come to that.
later:
Kev: how did you DO that, anyway?
ESC: I don’t know…I guess I thought the bagel would put up a little more resistance for the knife…
Kev: you have to start out slow, THEN really wale into it…you know….like sex.
ESC: WHAT???
Kev: HAHAHAHAHA!!!
ESC: I’M BLOGGING THAT!
Kev: HAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAAAAAA!!!
I’m kicking around some ideas in my head for creative use of leftovers.
Last night I made stock out of the turkey bones, and I have to say, this might be the tastiest stock I’ve ever made. I let it bubble on the stove all night (because I enjoy the dangerous thrill of potentially starting a fire while Kev and I sleep) and today I have collected copious amounts of the liquid gold.
So tonight, no brainer: turkey soup. I’m also thinking of making stuffing/cranberry stuffed biscuits (from a can, there is only so far I’m willing to go here, people).
Another idea I had was turkey and spinach lasagna. Mmmm…
This still leaves sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, and a lot of cranberry sauce, stuffing and turkey left over.
Assuming we get sick of sandwiches REAL quick…anybody out there have any special ways to kick up thanksgiving leftovers?
****leftover success!***
turkey soup
stuffed biscuits before, (click on picture for “recipe”)
and after:
deeelicious.
also, mental note: might not be a good idea to overdo it feeding Sadie thanksgiving goodies. As a direct result of us overindulging her yesterday…welll….
She had what Kev and I like to call “an emergency situation.” She was acting all weird tonight - restless, whiney…well, more than USUAL…refused to lay down and relax. “Do you have to pee AGAIN?” I had just taken her for a walk a couple of hours ago.
Oh yeah, she had to pee. And…other things. Messy things. Three times, at least. Deep in the wooded area behind the condo, so I didn’t actually SEE anything, but boy did I smell it!. Yeeach. I hope the people who live in the corner unit of my building don’t come outside tonight. Sorry ’bout that.
I’ll try to update between kitchen duty.
noonish: So how is “the plan” working? Well, last night I got the pie done, as well as the cranberry sauce (I’m sorry…”COMPOTE”), and the stuffing. I didn’t get the spinach gratin done, but that doesn’t take too long and I’m working on that right now.
I had every intention of waking up at 9, getting out of bed, and starting to cook as I watched the Macy’s parade.
What really happen: my alarm went off. I turned it off and fell back asleep. Woke up at 10, realized “hey, we have a tv in the bedroom!” and turned on the Macy’s parade. Alternate between dozing and watching until phone rings. It’s mom. Her turkey is already in the oven. Am I making a turkey?
Hmmm…the turkey is on my porch. In a large pot filled with brine and ice cubes.
OK, drain turkey, turn on oven, phone ring again. It’s Julie! We talk about the parade and how we wish hawks were stronger. And her friend’s aversion to things in cans.
turkey with anti-CIA satellite mind reading protective head gear:
last night:
Kev: so you made…what is that, cranberry stuff?
ESC: yeah, cranberry compote. it’s basically cranberry sauce.
Kev: huh. but you bought the canned stuff too, right?
ESC: um…NO!
Scary thing is, according to my mom, my dad has said the same thing to her in years past, when she’s tried to go fancy with the cranberries
11:30: Just saw that commercial for the new UNO game. The jingle at one point went something like this “you might get one card, you might get eight!” but I swear to GOD it sounded more like “you might get one card, you might get AIDS!”
that would be a really awful game.
2:30 OK, turkey is 25 degrees from being done. gratin is put together. bacon is done for the green beans, sweet potatoes and bananas are baked and cooling, and white potatoes are on the stove, waiting for the boil.
a toy poodle just won best in show. jeebus. hmmm…they have an online dog show for mutts. I’m totally entering Sadie.
************
DONE!
totally done. the food was all ready to go around 4pm. perfect. I never did get around to putting any snacks together, but Kev and i managed to survive by nibbling on chocolate bars and various olive bar treats he picked up during the TWO, count ‘em TWO trips he made to the grocery store (first for a paper and goodies to drink, second because I SWEAR I had another box of frozen spinach in the freezer, dammit!)
but you want to see pictures of the feast, don’t you? THAT’S WHAT YOU PAID FOR, RIGHT???
the turkey, the good side. kev had already started carving before i remember to take a picture. D’OH! I had painted mayo all over the turkey, which probably contributed to the nice golden brown color. mmmmm….this was damn good turkey.
it was moist and flavorful. not at all dry or funky, OR over-salty, which is what i was most concerned about.
greenbeans and bacon, and the sweet potato with bananas and honey. the sweet potatoes were the surprise hit of the night - the bananas made the potatoes sweeter and smoother, and the combination of flavors was amazing. what was also amazing was the crunchy top. obviously, the pecans the recipe called for were out. I crumbled up some cinnamon sugar graham crackers to substitute, and it worked perfectly. i dare say…better than pecans would have been?
spinach gratin (I swear! there is spinach under the cheese!) and the stuffing.
the table is set! the wine is called “7 deadly zins,” which has to be one of my favorite zinfindels. not overly spicy, which is just how i like it. also note our ghetto gravy boat: pyrex measuring cup. i should have registered for an “every day” gravy boat, as the one we got that goes with the good dishes is still at my parents.
all in all, our first thanksgiving together has been a rousing success! and we’re not technically done yet, because there is still PIE! but we had to slip into our tryptophan-induced food comas first, so now that THAT’S out of the way…bring on the pie!!!
10:00pm - big slices of pie and ice cream have long since been devoured. dishes are done, though the roasting pan is still soaking. What will be turkey stock in a few hours is bubbling merrily on the stove, filling the whole condo once again with fragrant turkey scented goodess.
now for your viewing pleasure: pictures of Sadie stalking Kev as he cleans off the turkey bones, hoping for a treat. which she gets, eventually.
ok, i have a video…let’s see if this works!
sorry it’s sideways…
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