…but mostly rants
liquid nitrogen pics are up!
we didn’t follow any specific recipe. we just mixed one and a half bottles of mocha frappacchino and a carton of heavy cream.
It came out a little ice milky, but still very good! And we didn’t use as much liquid nitrogen as we thought, which was good. Which also means we can make lab ice cream more often. Yay!
No time for a real post right now. I’ve had to do a million things today. But…
1. my financial aid form is signed and turned in.
2. my DNA from the CsCl gradient is drying on my bench.
3. we made liquid nitrogen ice cream. awesome. pics tonight (maybe)
4. I ALMOST have a truck rented for trip home. I’m waiting for car rental lady to call me about her conversation with the first dumbass guy I talked to, to confirm the reservation. If all goes well, I’m dropping my dented car off at Maaco, and the nice car rental people will pick me up and give me a truck. We pay for rental from Friday through Monday. Insurance picks up the bill from Tuesday to Friday. We would technically pay from Saturday to Monday, but Maaco thinks they might need to keep my car until then…which means car rental would reimburse us.
This is the plan. CALL ME BACK, LADY!!!!
Also: I heart tanning gel. I look like I’ve been at the beach for a few days. Sans the sand in my crotch.
Except I’m not short.
But I am busy today. I’m getting my CsCl gradient done today COME HELL OR HIGH WATER!
I’m also expecting a call from the insurance agent to come look at my car. (long story short: a while back I was a victim of a hit and run, from a guy riding his bike illegally on the sidewalk, and he rammed into me as I was waiting to pull out of a driveway.)
So jusk quick ones today. I’ll probably just be adding on to this post, though, so stop by frequently. Like maybe every 15 minutes. Stalker style. I like do to all of you.
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and the lion lay down with the lamb
can it be true? Religion and science…LIVING TOGETHER IN PEACE???
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kaBOOM!
I hate…HATE using the ultracentrifuge.
what is it? Well, a centrifuge is a gizmo that spins things, right? Well, the ultracentrifuge is the mack daddy of all centrifuges (and if there’s a faster one, shut up, I don’t care). It’s the size of a washing machine, and it can spin a rotor very very very fast. I’ve got my CsCl gradient in there at 55,000 rpm. fifty-five thousand…rotations per minute. that’s 917 rotations per second.
That’s fast.
So fast, you have to use a special tube to put your sample in. Shaped like a large capsule with a small tubey opening at the top, which you melt to seal closed. And you’d BETTER make sure that thing is sealed. Because if your tube leaks. YOU’RE SCREWED! AND A VERY EXPENSIVE MACHINE IS NOW BROKEN.
55,000 rpm…I don’t even know how to do the calculation to figure out the g-force on those tubes. But it’s ALOT. So if your tube leaks, then all of a sudden your rotor isn’t balanced. And what happens to a rotor spinning at 55,000rpm when it’s not balanced? I DONT’ KNOW, AND I DON’T EVER WANT TO FIND OUT!!!!
I DO know, that the inside of the ultracentrifuge is made out of tank-grade metal. That’s the metal the army makes tanks out of. In case the insurgents try to attack my CsCl.
So for the rest of the day, I’m going to be a little jumpy. I’m just waiting for the explosion.
I hate ultracentrifuges.
PS: I should mention that it spins for 18 HOURS! 18 HOURS OF WAITING FOR THE EXPLOSION!!!
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Dropping a hunk of donut into liquid nitrogen and then flinging it to the floor is not as entertaining as we’d hoped.
Tomorrow we try the ice cream recipe.
Today is not a good day.
We’re leaving for pittsburgh on friday, and I have a million and a half things to do before then. I have to get my car in for repairs. I have to rent a pickup truck for the trip (we’re coming back with my grandfather’s shopsmith, and likely, my grandparent’s washer and dryer). I have to pack. I have to remember to bring our birth certificates. I have to give Sadie a bath. I have to turn in my form to get my student loan.
I have so much to do in the lab.
I’m living in fear of my advisor right now. I’m avoiding her so she won’t ask me how much I’ve gotten done. If I’ve done my CsCl and started on another 2D gel (no). I’m afraid she’s going to ask me about the meeting I had planned on attending in Colorado at the end of July. I’m not going. I can’t lose a whole month. I need to keep working. And then she will give me shit about taking a week off to go home to pittsburgh.
And if she does that, I will flip out at her. Because if I don’t get out of here, I will go crazy. Total and complete mental breakdown.
I am on the edge right now. I’m hovering on a razor sharp line, and the slightest nudge will push me over.
I’m holding my breath.
Monday I trekked to ANOTHER mall (yay…I hate malls) to exchange the zipper-challenged skirt. I went after working out. After Kev called to tell me that HE was heading home, and that he was going to put the chicken in the rotisserie.
Great - that meant a very late dinner. And I was starving.
(note for people who care: actually, the chicken was still a bit frozen in the middle, so we scrapped the chicken idea and I made beef and bean burritos)
interesting side note: blogger spell check does not recognize the word “burritos”
another side note: I probably still have spelling errors, because I only let spell check get so far before closing it in frustration of it not recognizing words like “burritos” and “blog”
I needed a snack. But there is NOTHING healthy about mall food. And I didn’t want anything that would fill me up. Maybe there was a whorebucks… But, while searching for the Lane Bryant, I passed a very small, interesting beverage-dispensing place, called “Quickly.”
A quick peek inside revealed many bright colors and lots of asian language posters with poor engrish translations (”super fun cool!”), and a menu that included what looked like flavored teas.
hmmm…could they possibly have it? a treat that is hard to come by? Something I had only once…and instantly became an addict.
I quickly returned the skirt, then made by way back to Quickly. A cheerful (Japanese, I think) woman greeted me.
Hello! what can I get for you?
Umm…not sure…
I’m scanning the menu, looking for those two words…
You want slushy? Everyone seem to like slushy!
She started to walk over to the slushy machine in the front of the store. I didn’t want no stinkin’ slushy! I can go to Quik Trip and get a slushy! Where was it! They had to have it!
There! on the counter! a smaller menu!
Actually, I would like a bubble tea, please!
She looked surprised. I bet there’s not alot of call for bubble tea in the north atlanta ‘burbs. She’s probably been shoving slushies down stupid white people’s throats since day one.
So I ordered a honeydew bubble tea…heaven! absolute heaven! A drink and a small snack….ALL IN ONE!
Do you NOT know what a bubble tea is? mmmmmmm….sooo good. Though most people I know don’t like them. I think lots of people have texture issues with food. And if you have problems eating things of odd textures, you will NOT like bubble tea.
Bubble tea is a chilled milky black tea that you can add flavoring to. Not so scary. But…floating in the tea…are soft, lightly sweetened, chewy….black tapioca pearls, about a quarter inch in diameter.
you use a special large straw to slowly sip the tea, and then chew on the tapioca pearls, which are like gummier gummy bears, but with only a faintly sweet taste.
Now I’m going to have to drive my ass up to Gwinnett more often…dammit!
….would be an excellent name for a band.
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warning: more boobs
I am wearing one of the new bras today. Not a scary one…this one is sort of half way between a normal and a scary. And it’s blue! Hooray! But oh…the difference! I guess I just keep wearing the same stretched out pokey wired bras for so long, that when I finally get a bra that fits well…it’s like heaven.
I actually look thinner.
And I feel like my boobs are no longer in control. They are fully contained and supported. Not spilling over, or weighing down on my back. Hahaha…boobs…now I AM IN CONTROL! YOU WILL OBEY MEEEEE!!!
Now…look perky and jiggle just a bit when I walk.
Exxxcellent.
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enough with the boob talk, on to racial profiling
Today I had to leave work for a bit to drive our Lab Goddess home. Her son had been sent home on the early bus from summer school, and no one had bothered to tell the parents. Fortunately, a neighbor found him and called LG.
LG was furious. They have been having problems with bus transportation since the start of summer school. The bus drops him off too early, too late, not at all…and now this.
LG is german, so a lot of things she says kind of come out angry in her accent, even if she isn’t. But THIS time, I have NEVER seen her so angry! And an angry german spitting out nasty things about something that’s pissed them off…whoa. I would not want to be on the recieving end of that anger.
(OK, maybe not all germans sound angry, but LG definately does. I have had many new people come to our lab and then secret tell me after a few months “I think LG hates me, she’s always yelling at me.” and I have to say “oh, no! she doesn’t hate you! and she’s not yelling! she’s just german.”)
warning: probably a boring post for the guys to read, though there is mention of boobs and lingerie at the end.
today…I went shopping. My high school reunion is in less than a week, I need something PRETTY. Something that says “hey, maybe I should have dated her in high school…boy was I stupid.” Something that will make up for the fact that I am probably going to have this conversation with someone at some point in the evening:
So, what do you do?
I’m still in school.
Oh. Do you have any kids?
No.
Married?
No. I’m in a serious relationship, though.
Oh, that’s great! For how long.
A little over two years.
Wow. So you’re engaged?
….umm…no.
Oh. well…where is he?
Umm…I didn’t bring him, because I thought he’d be bored. So I left him with my parents…
Do you have a picture?
No.
riiiiiiiight…ok. hey, there’s Tom! TOM! HEY, TOM!!
Right. So I need an outfit that will ease the pain of that conversation. So head off to the slightly less ghetto mall near me, where there was a Lane Bryant. Ahh, Lane Bryant: fashion salvation for fat girls.
I wander in, and already, it doesn’t look good. Half the store looks empty. No “going out of business” signs, so I’m assuming I have hit the void that is summer shopping: to late for summer wear, too early for fall.
Crap. So I pick out a few things to try on. And I find a BEAUTIFUL red skirt. It’s bright red, with shimmery flecks running through it, and a golden floral design. and a ruffle that runs down the front and around the bottom.
Excuse me, are there any tops that go with this skirt?
You know, we never got anything in for it! People keep asking, but nothing ever came.
Dammit. So now I’m wandering around the store looking for red. I also have a black silk dress that I already know won’t fit me in the boobs, and a brown skirt with a gauzey beige blouse.
then I see it…a beautiful red lace sleeveless top…gorgeous…but it’s on one of those torso manniquin hanging on the wall. I can’t find any tops like it in the racks. The saleslady says it was a return, and it’s the only in the store. MINE! MINE!!! She brings down the scary headless torso manniquin and removes the top. I try it on…and it fits perfectly. But…it doesn’t really match the skirt. It’s a different red. But now I’m thinking SCREW the skirt…I WANT THIS TOP! Now I’m scouring the store for another skirt, or maybe some really dressy pants. The sales lady is trying to convince me that the brown skirt I had on (for the other set I tried) looked great with it. I dunno…red and brown. It was a cute skirt, though…slim to the knee…with that little kicky flair out at the bottom.
If you had it in black..maybe…
Oh yes, we do!
She pulls out the black skirt and hands it to me…so BACK into the dressing room. But I can’t zip down the zipper. It’s totally stuck. I struggle with it for awhile, and give up. I can step into it and slip it up, though. Hooray! I check myself out in the 3-way mirror. Very sexy. Oh yes…this outfit…she will be mine.
I’ll just pick up another one of the black skirts in my size…
But there is not another one in my size. God…dammit. Fine FINE…I’ll take it. There’s one at another mall that has my size. If I have time I’ll exchange it. If not, I can still wear it with the fucked up zipper.
NOW comes the part I’m dreading…bra shopping.
Some of my bras are faling apart. Over stretched. Underwire poking out. Leeetle bit too tight. I need new bras.
I hate bra shopping. Whatever size I think I am…I’m not. So I pick out 5 or 6 bras in the size I bought last time…the size of the bra I WORE INTO THE STORE…and head to the dressing room…AGAIN! (by this point, my hair is messy…i’m sweaty, and my deoderant has worn off, because I’ve taken off and put back on my clothes 8 times in 30 minutes. this must be what it’s like to be a prostitute) I stretch the bra around me, hook all the hooks. Seriously, how many hooks do I need? Pretty soon, bras will be full body suits with hooks all the way from your feet up to your nose.
And as soon as I hook the first bra, I realize that this isn’t going to work. I look like a tube of toothpaste with a rubber band wrapped around the middle.
Clothes BACK on, back OUT to the sales rack…pick out some more bras the next size up.
(dammit….dammit dammit dammit. Maybe I should try to sneak into Curves a 4th time during the week…)
I don’t get very complicated bras. I go for the underwire, of course. If I didn’t have an underwire bra on, I would scare small children. But aside from a variety of pretty colors, plain underwire.
Now…I start eyeing the fancy bras. The scary ones. The big padded “push up and squeeze” bras. With the solid cups. That don’t look like they’d even fit into my bra drawer. But…I DO need to look fabulous…
How boobagely gifted women try on a bra:
Take off own bra.
wrap new bra around you, and hook in the front.
ouch. try the next hook.
twist the bra around the right way.
try not to cry as the many tags stapled to the bra slice into your skin as you twist.
now put your arms through the arm straps.
now your boobs are at eye level, because the store always has the straps at the shortest setting
adjust straps.
inspect yourself. check for frontal quadraboobage, as well as backfat boobage. both of these are bad - if found, reject bra
bounce up and down a little…does anything fall out? if yes, reject bra.
wiggle around…anything poking you? if yes, reject bra.
bra passes test. ok…that’s ONE. now do it all over again…with EACH BRA YOU PICKED OUT!
ps: this is why I sometimes HATE small chested women. “oh, I don’t even HAVE to wear a bra most of the time!”
*THWACK!*
bitch.
I bought four bras. Two of them are the cleavage enhancing scary bras - one black, one white.
Excellent.
whoops…
I went to take a heartburn pill…and instead took my thyroid pill. I already took my thyroid pill this morning, so that’s two in one day.
I hope I don’t die.
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Sweatin’ for Jeeeesus
Went to Curves this morning. I’ve pretty much kept to my Monday, Thursday, Saturday schedule.
So they always have music playing. It’s always a techno dance-mix kind of thing. Alot of ABBA, some show tunes, some oldies…but always to the same driving beat. It really keeps you moving. I don’t usually pay a whole lot of attention to the words of the music (which is not normal for me…i LOVE singing to music, but it’s hard to sing and excercise at the same time). But today they had on a music mix that I hadn’t heard before. A few of the words jumped out at me…”praise,” “worship,” “forever.”
Hmmm…maybe a fluke.
Nope…the next song was the same. It was Christian techno rock. I kept looking around to see if anyone else was noticing this. No one was. Of course…I was in north atlanta suburb hell. They probably saw nothing wrong with a theorectically secular workout facility playing Christian techno music. We’re ALL good CHRISTIANS….right? Well, OK, I’M a Christian. But that doesn’t mean everyone is. And ugh…christian techno beats? Gag.
I can’t wait to transfer to one closer to my home. Just a couple more weeks. Of course, I live in what I like to call “little india,” so maybe they’ll play Hindi techno mixes. that would be cool.
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Everything’s furry…
Today I vacuumed. It was time. Everything that has touched the floor quickly became coated with dog hair. Everything. Papers, shoes, purses, slow moving old people…
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…and green!
I did what I HOPE will be the last of my balcony planting - my italian parsely was pathetic and spindly, so I bought a new one, along with a new house plant.
And I finally got around to straightening up my balcony. It was covered with dirt, debris, the plastic pots you buy plants in, plant name tags…and of course DOG HAIR. So now it’s a nice place to sit and be…but it’s too damn hot to be out there sitting and being.
A fact which I realized quickly after only a few minutes of working on the balcony. I had JUST showered after getting back from curves, and I was getting all hot, sweaty, and dirty again.
Which probably turns on the perves. “ooooo…I’m soooo hoooooot….think I’ll…take off my bra…”
HA! Perves.
where was I…oh yeah…
Go to my flickr pages to see the fruits of my labor. Or click here for poppy slideshow goodness.
Rarely to I get to combine geeking out over my dog with geeking out over science. But today, I had such an opportunity.
Behold: the DNA shaped dog toy.
What it’s actually called is “Hard Rubber, Squiggly Dog Toy” (tre’ original, no?)…but just LOOK at it…it’s DNA! I HAD to buy it! My dog…playing with DNA! Just like mommy!
And notice the pretty rainbow colors? Obviously, the people at JW Pet Company are not ONLY trying to educate your pet on the building blocks of life, but they are also teaching tolerance of all lifestyles. Bravo.
But, as you can see…she has completely turned her nose up at the awesome DNA toy.
Stupid dog.
Well, at least I can play with it.
Oh, and here’s the now full white, plastic, flip-top, garbage can of doggy extasy.
Just in case you were worried about her dinner.
Spoiled?? nooooo! surely not!
I am out of dry dog food. Dammit. I meant to pick some up yesterday on my way back from Curves. Instead I went to Publix and bought salad mix and hamburger buns. I scraped out enough to give Sadie dinner…but this morning there was nothing left but crumbs in the white, plastic, flip-top, garbage can of doggy extasy.
I had canned left, a mostly finished open one in the fridge. I could open another can and give her all wet food, but I like to make each can last a week, since canned is more expensive than dried.
So…what to do…whaaaaat to do.
I made her a 3 egg omlette.
Sadly, I think it was one of the better omlettes I’ve made. It didn’t break up in the pan when I flipped it. It wasn’t burned a little on the bottom. I must remember this when I make one next time…you know…for PEOPLE. It was perfect. Until I slid it into her bowl, and mashed it up with the remaining canned food and some organic chicken broth.
And Kev will KILL me when he reads this because one of his fantasies is me making him a hot breakfast every morning. HA! You DON’T want me near a stove when I get up too early. Besides, he doesn’t have time - he takes the smoothie I DO make (hey, I’m not HEARTLESS! mmmm…smoothies!) to go, anyway!
When I finally set the cooled bowl in front of her, she hesitates, and gives me this look of amazement. “is this…is this ALL MINE????” “Yes, go ahead and eat!”
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Adventures in living together, #762 in a series
Me: cooking dinner *sigh* Well Kev, I think we’re going to have to get married soon.
Kev: and why is that?
Me: the handles on my pots are all starting to get loose
Kev: “the look”
Me: Whaaaaat? They are!
Kev: I can probably fix those with a screwdriver.
Me: nooo….I dont’ think you can. there’s no screw head on them. I think we need new ones
Kev: examining pan I think I can fix them. I just need a hammer.
Me: dammit
Whoops! My counter hit 30,000, and I didn’t notice. Sorry about that, #30,000. Guess you’ll just have to wait until 40,000 to get the prize -
nekkid pictures.
(I didn’t say “of me,” perves!)
Any-hooo…ummm….
Yeah, I got nothing right now. I’m hungry. Time for lunch. Leftover pasta….and puddin’. Sweeeeeeeeet.
Adventures in getting to work
This morning I was pretty distracted…and late…getting to work. Therefore I wasn’t really concentrating all that hard while driving.
So I didn’t see the obvious, not-even-trying-to-hide cop with the big radar gun until it was I was almost passing him. I was going 50. In a 35.
Shit.
The look on my face must have been pretty comical, though, because all the cop did was laugh, shake a finger at me disapprovingly, and point to the radar detector. He wasn’t even trying to hide, so it must have been pretty funny to him that I was speeding past him.
I laughed with him, pointed to my head and made a helpless gesture…more out of the utter absurdity of the situation than relief. I hit my brakes to slow down, and continued on my way.
Whew!
Then I was behind a woman with a vanity plate. MORFR8.
what?
more freight? morf rate? more fright?
very confusing.
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Equality and good movie lines
I was reading Bacon Strips the other day, and one of the guys did a post on his Top 20 Movie Quotes. They were all good, mostly expected, but disturbingly…all by male characters.
I made the comment that there were no women characters represented, and he replied that he couldn’t think of any good lines by women characters.
hmmm…
Well, there are certainly FAMOUS lines uttered by female characters - “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” “I’m ready for my closeup, Mr DeMille,” etc, etc.
but were there any like those he had posted? That were cleverly funny, or expressed anger and rage, summed up in just a single sentence?
Hmmmmm….
No doubt my friends out there can come up with some, but last night it struck me. One of my favorite lines, spoken in my absolute favorite movie. I’m cheating somewhat, in that orginally it was a play, not a movie. But back then, there WERE no movies, plays were movies. So I maintain that it counts.
I included several lines, to give the context, but I’ve bolded the best one - and yes, technically two sentences are bolded…but it’s all part of the same “phrase”
Is he not approved in the height a villain, that
hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O
that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until they
come to take hands; and then, with public
accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour,–
O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart
in the market-place.
awesome. Rage, anger, dispair…all there. So that’s my vote for best movie quote by a female character. Anyone have any additions?
God I love that movie. And I will always hear those words in my head as spoken by Emma Thompson.
I think I need to watch it again. It’s been awhile. I’ll do it while Kev’s playing his Unreal, since it’s such a chick flick, and I have a tendencey to mouth all the lines to myself.
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HAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!!
Flying Spaghetti Monster theory of creationism
via BoingBoing
So I just baked and tried the No Pudge Chocolate Brownies. This is a brownie mix that you just add yogurt to, and then bake, and…THEY’RE FAT FREE! The box claims that the brownies are thick and fudgy, just like regular brownies.
Well, we’ll see about that.
I’m somewhat cheating, in that I didn’t have any fat free yogurt on hand. Just regular…and also plain, so I have to add some vanilla extract, which the directions say to do if you don’t have vanilla yogurt.
Also, I HAVE to have chocolate chips in my brownies. Have to. Yes, I know…BAD ESC BAD! But I didn’t add as many as I usually do.
So…what do I think…
MMF! mmmmfmmfmmfmmfff. fmmmmfMMMmfffmm mfmfff fmmfd!
(that’s OH WOW THEY’RE REALLY FUDGYAND GOOD!”)
so No Pudge Brownies get the ESC seal of approval.
OK, to the person who found me doing a yahoo search for:
MY HUSBAND DIED 2 YEARS AGO. I STILL GET PANIC ATTACKS AND CRY ALOT. I FEEL VERY LONELY.
seriously…get help. please! medication! support groups! ummm…a puppy!
…I IM with people who are not Kev. Not that these conversations are ANY LESS ENTERTAINING!
Gloomygus : I just feel like an addict who has finally hit rock bottom & decided I’ve had enough.
ESC: uh huh
ESC: you take your break
ESC: and then when you can’t take it anymore
ESC: you’ll come around
Gloomygus : I’ll believe it when I see it…until then.
ESC: yeah yeah, you’ll wallow in your misery…
ESC: reading blogs and chatting with strange women
ESC: oh, and eating cheetos
Gloomygus : DAMMIT! McSweeny’s hijacked my Ninja-theme. Fucking hacks.
ESC: ninja theme?
Gloomygus : You know, how I work ninjas into amusing situations and funny stories?
ESC: under “health watch four silent killers”
Gloomygus : Yeah. Bastard hack-people.
ESC: riiiight
ESC: you’re the only one who rights about ninjas
ESC: http://www.ninjapirate.com/battle.html
Gloomygus : Oh, now you’re against me?
ESC: hey, dont’ blame me…blame the pirates
ESC: I use monkeys to add humor
ESC: everyone likes monkeys
Gloomygus : Yeah, but ninjas are MY thing
ESC: i don’t think you own the exclusive rights to ninjas
ESC: ninjas are old school
ESC: you want to “own” something clever, you got to come up with something new
ESC: like “pandas”
Gloomygus : Oh, I feel dizzy
ESC: over ninjas?
Gloomygus : Your suggestion that I adopt pandas as my signature leitmotif.
ESC: well, that was just an example
ESC: (and SHUT UP, pandas are cool)
Gloomygus : Cool? Explain to me why I just threw up in my mouth.
ESC: ’cause you’re a freak
Gloomygus : Yeah yeah, material already covered (and apparently captured to your harddrive, freak)
ESC: it’s so when you find happiness, I will have PROOF THAT I WAS RIGHT!
ESC: AND…pandas are cool
Gloomygus : Do I have to die alone and happy to be right?
ESC: ummm…maybe
ESC: alone and unhappy works too
ESC: unless you’re unhappy because your wife of 50 years passed before you
ESC: then I still win
Gloomygus : Married 50 years? I’ve got maybe another 35 on this ticker before I’ll need a new one.
ESC: please, in 35 years they’ll just grow you a cloned heart
ESC: FROM A PANDA!
ESC: would a NINJA give you a cloned heart?
ESC: I DON’T THINK SO
ESC: HA!
ESC: don’t have a comeback for THAT one, DO YOU MR GLOOMYPANTS???
Gloomygus : No. You got me there. Cloned panda hearts…make sure I write that down correctly.
ESC: yeah…that’s what I THOUGHT!
ESC: and yes, you can SO BLOG THAT
ESC: and if you don’t…I might
Gloomygus : Maybe you had better. I haven’t entirely “embraced the panda” yet and wouldn’t do it justice.
ESC: what if they were ninja pandas?
Gloomygus : Oh, I’m definitely going to pass out now…
ESC: are you laughing at me????
Gloomygus : No wait, that was passing gas…
ESC: uh huh
ESC: ’cause I will TOTALLY clone some Evil Ninja Pandas to come KICK YOUR ASS
Gloomygus : Good luck training them to throw stars WITHOUT OPPOSABLE THUMBS!
ESC: I’M A GENETICIST!
ESC: I CAN GIVE THEM OPPOSABLE THUMBS!
Gloomygus : Yeah, not too worried about that, having read your blog
ESC: ok, now I hate you
Gloomygus : Oh Regis…you know I’m just teasing you.
Happy Father’s Day to all the good daddies out there.
I got my dad one of these:
yeah yeah, it’s the “MS pacman” one…but it’s the only one that has Galaga. Galaga was our favorite game - my dad and I played each other on our old Nintendo system, and any time we’d be at a restaurant or arcade that had Galaga, we’d always slip in a few quarters to play. I’d get so excited every time I saw that familiar green game…”DAD! GALAGA! can we play? huh huh? can we?”
Happy Father’s Day, Daddy! And practice that game…I’m a big girl now, and I can probably beat your high scores 
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Green ESC
and not that I’m at ALL jealous of Sylvana’s beautiful garden…cause I’m NOT! but…my little balcony garden seems to be doing well this year:
The relatively mild spring and lots of sunny days and stormy evenings have done wonders. Hooray!
Lots of fragrant herbs and hopefully, some nice ripe tomatoes very soon.
I don’t do flowers.
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I promised Restless Angel some pics of the new hair color.
Before:
After:
Yeah, it’s not a dramtic change. But I got what I wanted. I’ve always been a sort of kind of maybe dirty dishwater dark icky blonde. A sort of non color. I’ve gone bright blonde before…it wasn’t pretty. So I decided to take the alternate route. Now my hair is a satisfying light to medium brown…with blonde highlights.
I used the L’Oreal “Couleur Experte” in the “Almond Rocca” color. It’s the kind with hair color and highlights. The highlights are a little tricky to do, and I think I might have overdid it a bit…but when I saw how dark my hair looked…I freaked out a bit.
It was time for some sidebar cleaning. Some updates, some deletions. I deleted some people off my blogroll. If you have been deleted, allow me to ’splain…
my link list is for ME…these are the blogs I read. yes, it’s nice to be linked, but I only link people if I like their stuff. You are on my sidebar if:
a. you post regularly
b. you post things that are “interesting” or “entertaining”
c. you leave lots of comments on my site about how much you love my blog (ESC has an ego)
All of the above criteria must be met. The exception to these rules is:
d. your site is above and beyond cool. a site I aspire to be one day. a mecca of blogdom. these are placed in the coveted “wish I were as cool as” section.
If you do not meet any of these criteria, your ass is out of there. Sorry! no linky love for YOU!
but if you DO meet these criteria, and I have thoughtlessly deleted you or worse, never added you, please let me know!
Ahem…where was I?
Oh, and going with the “ego” theme, I included a “best of” section. For the benifit of new readers, who may be interested in knowing why some people will refer to me here as “bondage chicken“.
I tried to include my personal favorites, and posts that seemed to get a lot of attention. But if I missed any of your favorites, let me know. (EGO! OH MY GOD, DID YOU SEE THAT HUGE EGO??? It was fucking HUGE!)
Hope everyone’s having a fun weekend like me! I did Curves today…and now I’m at work! yay! wait…that’s not fun. Well, Curves was fun…but work sucks. But I’m going home now! Yay! Probably to clean the bathroom. Not fun. But later I might dye my hair! Yay! To a darker color, which I’ve never done before…and I might hate it. Not fun.
OK, a better weekend then me, then!
I am tired and sore.
So much for my productivity streak.
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And to this I say…
AMEN! I think he hit the nail on the head with respect to the vast majority of Christians out there. But why are we letting the ultra conservative speak for us? We need a louder voice!!!
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It’s Fun Underwear Friday!
Do you have your fun underwear on? I do! It’s boy-cut style, blue with light blue edging. On the front is a cartoony fish (hehe…hehehe…) and on the butt in big letters is says “GREAT CATCH!” Oh, how I love Fun Underwear Friday!
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Getting closer…
Today my DNA has not disappeared…yet. I think I was losing it after my first cleaning, for which I just used ethanol precipitation. Someone in my lab suggested I use a kit. duh! I was just trying to save the money, since I didn’t really need the DNA all that clean…but it was costing MORE money to do the damn thing over and over. So yay! My DNA is still there. NOW I just have to set up my ligation…
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This is a section where maybe my “real life” friends should perhaps stop reading, lest they are rendered unable to ever make eye contact with me or Kev ever again.
So Kev and I tend to be loud in bed. Well, really just me. I’m loud, I admit it. Fortuantely, Kev likes me loud. and what he REALLY likes…what REALLY gets him going is…a struggle. Yep…weirdo men. And yeah…I kind of like it, too. I like to try to wiggle out of his grasp, to make him pin me down and then take me. WANNA MAKE SOMETHING OF IT???
Anyway, as part of the “struggle”, I tend to yell “NO!” alot, in a faux angry yet sexy voice. Which of course REALLY means “YES YES PLEASE OH GOD YES!”
So what’s the problem? Well, on cooler nights, we like to turn off the AC and open all the windows, including the big sliding glass door that leads to the balcony from the bedroom.
Have I mentioned that we finally got downstairs neighbors? One of whom enjoys smoking on her porch in the evenings?
I am just WAITING for the night that the police show up at our door. “Ma’am, we got a report of a domestic disturbance? Something about someone screaming ‘NO NO’ over and over? Is everything OK, ma’am?”
Nothing has happened yet. I haven’t met the smoking sister yet, either. But she HAS to have heard us on at least one occasion. Maybe she’s avoiding us.
Or maybe she likes it….
Today I went into work early, discovered that my cultures were indeed contaminated, and STILL managed to get a full day of work in…THEN went to work out at Curves. THEN went to the farmer’s market, came home, and made Thai food.
THEN Kev installed a new digital thermostat, and I replaced the hissing popping flickering lightswitch/dimmer in the bathroom.
THEN I changed the template on my recipe site and added the thai recipes. Go there now and shower me with praise.
Comply.
Dude, I should be WAY more tired then I am. Maybe someone slipped me some crack?
Do you doubt that I went to a freak show of a high school? DO YOU DOUBT ME????
Even after super-fertile Kurt impregnated his wife with double twins?
Well…let me assure you…THE FREAK SHOW DOESN’T END THERE!!!!
Have you heard about shower jesus? It’s for real, here’s the ebay link.
I WENT TO HIGH SCHOOL WITH THAT GUY, TOO! He GREW UP DOWN THE STREET FROM ME!
His mom taught english at my high school.
And Jeff??? WAS A JERK! Seriously. An egotistical jerk. (what I believe the English refer to as a “wanker”).
His mom, however, is a sweetheart.
But still, Jesus should NOT be appearing to such a jerk….though maybe he’s a reformed jerk. Still…look at the bidding! HE’S GOING TO BE A REFORMED RICH JERK!
In the lab, we’ve been speculating on what he was DOING in the shower to make Jesus appear. Bwahahahaha! Jeff, look! You made Jesus cry!!!
1. I ran a gel to purify a DNA fragment only to find out that some how I had lost all my DNA, in all four plasmids.
2. I found out that the 5ml culture I used to innoculate my huge 500ml culture that I will be extracting DNA from tomorrow via CsCl gradient so as to continue the monotony that is 2D gel analysis…was contaminated. Meaning that a. my 500ml cultures might very well be contaminated, and b. even if they’re not, then the bacterial contamination might have thrown off my OD count to determine how much of the 5ml culture to use to innoculate. Which means that my 500ml culture might not be ready when I need it to be tomorrow. Either way, I might NOT be able to get my DNA in time to start another 2D gel next week.
3. while column cleaning my PCR fragment, I knocked over the wash buffer.
see? I’m not exaggerating! MY LAB LIFE SUCKS!!!!
Yesterday, I cleaned.
I’m just so sick of doing the same things over and over in the lab and them not work. I feel like I’m going insane. Like it’s all pointless. Nothing I do works.
And I got home, and I stared at the mess of papers on the floor, shopping bags on chairs, old mail in piles on endtables…and I said THIS I CAN DO!
So I cleaned. I sorted. I moved. I scrubbed. I did everything but vacuum, because then Kev got home with the Chinese take out. Maybe I will vacuum tonight after choir practice.
I even cleaned up the desktop on my laptop.
I am organized.
THAT I can do.
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Julie’s recent squirrel issues made me think of a funny story.
Way back during my first year in atlanta, I lived in an apartment..a rather ghetto apartment. I had sadie only for few months, and still kept her locked in her crate at night. One saturday morning, she started getting restless and whiney at around 7am. OH NO YOU DI-INT! So I went out and yelled at her (yeah, I’m mean like that). She quieted down for a little while, then started up again.
I contemplated getting up again, when I heard *clink*. Clink? wtf? Nothing in her crate should be going *clink*!
*clink* There it was again!!!
I walked into the living room/dining room, and didn’t see anything to weird. Sadie was REALLY anxious. I walked over to the table where I kept all her food and treats. The lid was off the glass container that held her peanut butter biscuits, which had been full the night before, and now was completely empty. OH SHIT!
I let Sadie out of her crate, and she bolted into the kitchen and started sniffing around the fridge. I was thinking…rat? Oh shit, I hope it’s not a rat. Would a rat be able to climb up the table and lift the heavy glass lid off the jar? Not sure…wait…what else could it be….
SQUIRRRRRRRRREL!
I pushed Sadie out of the way, but didn’t put her back into her cage. She was my only protection against a violent squirrel attack. Cautiously, I pulled back the fridge and peered behind.
There was…a HUGE FUCKING HOLE IN MY WALL!!!! At least 2 x 2 feet. At some point in the past, some asshat maintenance person decided that the best way to fix the hole was to nail (not screw in) a piece of plywood over the hole. Eventually, the nails worked themselves loose (or, more sinister, the squirrels hammered them out from the inside using acorns and small rocks…hmmmm….) and the piece of crap plywood fell, exposing the hole, and providing a nice squirrel access passageway into my kitchen. IN MY APARTMENT! MY DOMAIN! I’VE BEEN INVADED! I think I was hyperventilating a little.
So I shoved the fridge back into place and (this is the genius bit) propped up some baking sheet pans to cover the spaces next to the fridge. Take THAT, stupid squirrels! You can pull a heavy glass lid off a jar, but COWER BEFORE MY ALUMINUM BAKING SHEETS!!!!
I called the front office “THERE’S UMM…WELL THERE MIGHT BE, OR THERE WAS A SQUIRREL…OR A RAT…I DON’T KNOW…IT’S GONE I THINK BUT THERE’S A HOLE IN MY WALL! BEHIND THE FRIDGE! SQUIRREL! BISCUITS!”
“OK, ma’am, we’ll try to get someone over there sometime today”
WHAT??? FUCKING RIGHT NOW BITCH!!!!! But it was Saturday. Nothing gets done on Saturday.
So I waited…and waited. Sadie kept guard next to the baking sheets. Then I decided…this is silly. I am a Strong, Independent Woman Living On Her Own. I am not Weak and Useless. And, most importantly, I Own Tools.
So I grabbed my hammer and cautiously pulled back the fridge enough for me to get access - making as much noise as possible, to scare off any potential second wave of squirrel infantry. I quickly nailed the plywood back in using the old nails, and then shoved the fridge back in place.
I was jumpy for the rest of the weekend. I started leaving Sadie’s crate door open at night, but there were no more suspicous incidents. As far as I know, the asshat maintenance people never showed up, and that hole is probably still there to this day - while the squirrels slowly work away at the backs of those nails.
I bought Sadie more peanut butter biscuits and apologized for yelling at her.
Dangerous Curves
Today was my first session at Curves. Rose was there, and she took me around the rotation, showing me how to use each piece of equipment. You may only get 30 seconds at each station, but it’s enough! It wasn’t long until my heart beat was up to where it was supposed to be for my age (18 - 23 in a 10 second count). I could feel my muscles working on each machine…and I worked up quite a sweat. I’m a head sweater. It’s kind of embarrassing. Sweat dripped into my eyes, and pretty soon the sweat on the back my net had soaked my hair.
It
was
GREAT!
I feel great! Rose said I did very well and that she was proud of me. Awww…isn’t she sweet? There was also obviously a mix up - the cooperate account is still viable, according to DAC, so the rather ditzy manager tried to figure it out today. But of course, everyone at DAC had gone for the day. They told me they’d try to work it out tomorrow. As I stood there behind the front desk, I perused the protein shake mixes and nutrition supplements sold there, all “formulated specifically for a woman’s system.” A digestion aid, a stress relief aid, joint care aid….a prost aid???? what? the bottle didn’t really have much information about what it specifically did…but…still…PROST AID FOR WOMEN???
I’m shooting for Thursday for my next visit.
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TMI of the day
Today I learned: my body does not digest brown rice.
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A message from the PSSP
Ok, this story made me mad when I first heard it last week, but I waited to rant about it until I heard for sure what I knew the outcome would be.
So, this 12 year old girl was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease, which is a type of cancer of the lymph nodes. Not something to fuck around with. So their oncologist prescribed a few rounds of chemo, followed by radiation treatments.
The parents agree, and the girl goes through chemo. After the chemo courses are done, the cancer is no longer detected (yay chemo!) and it’s time for the radiation.
But the parents decide “why does she need radiation? her cancer is gone! 100% gone! it’s not coming back!” and they refuse the radiation for her, against the doctor’s wishes.
WHY WHY WHY WHY are stupid people allowed to breed?
So the doctor informs the state, and child protective services removes the girl and her brothers from their parents custody.
The parents argue that their doctor never discussed alternative treatments with them, and never told them why she needed the radiation after her cancer appeared to be gone. OK, fine, their doctor was probably an ass. But what kind of medical training background makes these people feel qualified to start arguing with CANCER TREATMENT??? The doctor prescribed both chemo and radiation because for Hodgekin’s, that’s the treatment that’s been proven most effective. To quit after the chemo step is like stopping taking antibiotics halfway through the course because you feel better. Yes, you may FEEL better, but those ugly nasty bugs are still there, waiting for their chance to come back. And then with new and improved antibiotic resistance. the same holds true in this case. Did you know that cancer can become immune to certain types of chemo? yeah, it can.
I’m not saying that there might be viable alternatives out there. But did the parents investigate? Did they go online and check out chinese herbs and accupunture and, I don’t know…fucking scented incense burners??? Did they send emails to cancer experts at other hospitals across the country, to find out their opinions on the best course of action? NO! They just whined “our doctor didn’t talk to us about alternatives.” Guess what? YOU’RE the parent…YOU must do the investigating! OR…and here’s a radical idea…TRUST THE ASSHOLE WHO’S TREATED CANCER BEFORE AND WHO DOES SHIT LIKE THIS FOR A LIVING!!!!!
Christ.
So, a judge put a hold on the radiation until they could check to see if the cancer had come back. They did a PET scan this past weekend.
well, guess what?
THE CANCER IS BACK!!!
Fucking stupid ignorant inbred fucking STUPID BATSHIT CRAZY ASSHOLES!!!!
Now this poor little girl is going to have to go through chemo AGAIN…and it will probably be worse, because they’ll have to use different, and even stronger stuff to kill the cancer this time.
Ugh. DRIVES. ME. CRAZY!
Friends don’t let stupid people breed. Paid for by the People for the Sterilization of Stupid People.
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So as not to end my night on such an angry note…
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!! I HEART NATALEE DEE!!! I especially like the expression on the face of the “OMG” person. BWAAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!
ooooohhhhhh ohhh ohhohhhhhh….
Saturday, the lab got together and went to a Braves game. We’d been planning it for awhile, figuring that after all the problems we’ve all been having, PLUS Brenda will be leaving for Boston at the end of the summer, we NEEDED some fun time together that wasn’t spent screaming “NOTHING GREW ON MY PLATES!!! I’M GOING TO KILL MYSELF!”
The day was cloudy and muggy, and I wanted to dress for comfort. I chose a green stripy tank top. Who are the Braves playing? I have no idea, but I can’t think of any green teams, so I figured I chose a safe color.
Kev and I rode MARTA (it’s “smarta”) to avoid traffic. This weekend was Music Midtown, and I knew traffic in and around the city would be nightmarish. We all managed to meet up and find out seats.
So who are the Braves playing, anyway? The Oakland Athletics. Shit…THAT’S CHEATING! Stupid interleague game. The Athletics color is green. Oh well, no one hasseled me.
It drizzled off and on throughout the game. I was sitting next to D, the very fidgety son of our Lab Goddess. As long as LG kept food or drink in his hands, he seemed OK. It was fun to see his excitement, though. He’d grab my arm and yell “Look! Hit the ball!”
We only had to drag out the umbrellas once for about 15 minutes, but we spent most of the game cool and just a little damp. Overall, a good day for baseball. As a bonus, the Braves won - hooray!
(note to the Pittsburghers: I was, am, and always will be a die hard Pirates fan, as difficult as that has been the past…10 years. And the Braves have a history of being a heinous foe to the Pirates. When I moved to Atlanta and joined my lab, I made an agreement with my Braves fan labmates: as long as the Braves were not 1. playing against the Pirates, or 2. competing with the Pirates in a close penant race, I will cheer for the Braves while in Atlanta. This make everyone happy. But I do die a little inside when I do the tomahawk chop)
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conversations, part ? in a series
we’re watching a home show on DIY, and their showing a built in Wok burner that can be separate from your stove. Very shiny and stainless steel. Cost? $2000.
Kev: you’d have to cook a lot of Wok stuff to make that feasable
Me: well, maybe if you’re Asian.
Kev: You’d have to be pretty hardcore Asian.
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! HARDCORE ASIAN!
Kev: You’re going to blog this, aren’t you?
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The three alarm false alarm
Just about a half hour ago, I wake up still groggy from my nap. I’m still on the couch, contemplating whether I really need to wake up, or if I can still pass out for awhile longer, when I hear sirens. Close sirens. Cool! Somethings going on! Maybe I can see! So I shuffle outside in my bare feet, through the breezeway to the front of the building. Where I’m met by a couple of fire marshal type people and a firetruck, which fully geared up fire persons are climbing out of.
“WHERE’S 2002?” Firemarshal #1 asks me. “ummm…” I’m still waking up, and a little in shock. fortunately, one of my neighbors has come out and is a little more with it “Downstairs in the back.”
I run back and peer over the railing as Firemarshalls #1 and #2 knock on 2002. The nice hispanic lady who is either renting or housesitting (we haven’t determined which, yet) comes to the door.
“did you report a fire, ma’am?”
“What?? no! no fire!”
Now one of the sisters renting the unit below me come out. “We’re just burning papers in the fireplace!”
By this point, about 4 or 5 fully geared up firepeople are milling around, and I can hear more sirens. A fire rescue ambulance and ANOTHER firetruck are pulling into the complex.
Firemarshall #1 is on his walkie talkie, trying to figure out if they have the right unit number.
Neighbor sister calls up to me “Did YOU call?”
“No! and what are you doing with a fireplace fire in June???” I’m laughing now. She’s laughing, too.
“We’re just burning papers! I TOLD my sister to buy a shredder!!!” I feel bad that we’re having a good laugh at the expense of these very brave and hardworking firepeople, but it’s a little comical.
None of us can figure out who called in the fire. It had to be someone from another building who saw smoke coming from the top of the building and thought that something must be wrong, because WHO lights a fire in June? In ATLANTA??? And now there’s a firemarshall truck, TWO firetrucks and a rescue ambulance parked outside, and no one knows what to do. It was all pretty funny.
Eventually, the fire department left and now everything’s back to normal. I went downstairs to get more of the scoop, bu she’s just as confused as I am! Oh well, at least I got to have a nice long chat with a fairly new neighbor. She’s very sweet.
Today is not a good day. Bleah.
Bleah bleah bleah.
But it is friday, and I will cope. In the mean time, here is a fun thing called Googlism that I got from Brighton. Below are some of my favorites. I used my real name, but replaced it with ESC to avoid any unfortunately family googles. Yeah, I’m paranoid about that sort of thing.
ESC is a stud monkey
ESC is synonymous with greed and jealousy
ESC is forced to pit for sheet metal repair around the grill opening
ESC is congenial
ESC is not only an inspired and leading scientist
ESC is winning battle of the posters
ESC is dismissive of the notion that psychedelic drugs can provide genuine mystical illumination ESC is firmly on the other side of the farmyard fence
ESC is hypnotized and gets angry
ESC is clandestinely digging amid a ring of stones and she sees lachlan teetering on the brink of a cliff
ESC is a peripatetic historian
ESC is of counsel to the buffalo
ESC is very quick handed
ESC is essentially an oedipal monster and hysteric
ESC is a powerful vocal force to be reckoned with
ESC is definitly the snake in this garden
ESC is on a mission to save whales
ESC is ensconced in her bedroom
ESC is just a precocious little prankster
ESC is maintaining in her mind
ESC is facing the death penalty for espionage
ESC is the president and ceo of the futurework institute
ESC is out of touch with reality in terms of how the tax office operates in 1995
ESC is to have this one basic right
ESC is a precocious young girl who starts behaving strangely
ESC is not all serious
ESC is annoyed by clayton’s presence
ESC is overwhelming
ESC is always on duty and often makes house calls
ESC is pissing on the collective carpet
ESC is found in someone like you
ESC is found in black knight
ESC is not only an inspired and leading scientist
ESC is lukewarm at best
ESC is an idiot
my personal favorite is the “ESC is dismissive of the notion that psychedelic drugs can provide genuine mystical illumination.” Also, it’s very educational, as I learned what “peripatetic” means. We strive to educate our readers here at “…but mostly rants.” and by “we” I mean me and the evil monkey that lives in my closet.
He wasn’t always evil.
So I finally limped my ass up to Roswell to sign up at Curves.
What? Didn’t I do that on tuesday?
no.
I hadn’t gotten very far when Kev called, and I told him where I was headed.
I was going to try to stop by after work. Perky lady was ALL ABOUT THAT. “Oh yes! Please do!” Never once saying “so I’ll put you down for 6?”
So a quick call later, and I have an appointment for thursday at 6:45.
Right.
I fight the traffic, and make only one wrong turn (this is good for me). And I get there early! A very nice woman who sounds exactly like Rose, Betty White’s character from the Golden Girls.
We go through a quick questionaire, where I tell her how I learned about Curves (ummm…every strip mall in Atlanta?) w at I hope to accomplish (lose weight, gain self-esteem), etc, etc.
Then comes the humiliating bit where I’m weighed, measured, and body fat index calculated buy a little handheld doohicky. No, I’m NOT going into details, but let’s just say that if I were a delicious food item, I’d probably be an Otis Spunkmeyer’s Chocolate Chocolate-Chip Muffin.
Now comes a quick tour around the room - there’s 15 machines and 15 ‘rest pads’ for inbetween machines. You use the machine, then when the music tells you, you move to a rest pad, and sort of dance/walk in place to the music. Then you move to the next machine. 30 seconds - not much time! You do the whole circuit twice in a half hour. every 8 minutes, everyone stops and measures their heart rate. But the process must work. Along the back wall were paper printouts reading “10 pounds” “20 pounds” “4o pounds,” with many many smaller shape cutouts bearing a name and some numbers - weight and inches lost - arranged around them.
Then we get around to the nitty gritty: money. I tell her that my boyfriend’s company (let’s call it the DumbAss Company, or DAC, for reasons that will become clear) has a cooperate account. Rose goes back to the front desk to figure out exactly how much the discount is. Time passes. She’s on the phone. She hangs up, dials another number…keeps giving me the one finger “just another minute” gesture. Finally, she comes back. Rose can’t get ahold of anyone at DAC. But they can find out and let me know maybe tomorrow? Fine. I start filling out health forms. Then Rose’s boss shows up, and Rose explains the problem.
Boss lady clears things up: the reason Rose can’t find the correct person to talk to about DAC’s account, is that DAC’s account with Curves expired and was never renewed.
WHAT????
Obviously, employees at DAC are still under the impression that they can get discounts at Curves…has no one noticed that it is no longer happening? Kev got his membership to Gold’s Gym without issue, so obviously THAT account is still good.
Goddammit.
Seeing my dismay, boss lady makes an offer. The normal sign up fee is $150, plus $29 monthly. There’s a special that cuts the fee to $75…and then ANOTHER special that says if you and a friend sign up, you split the $75. She offers me the special price: $37. plus the $29 monthly dues.
So I take it. They happily take my credit card….and…their computer goes down.
This is just so not meant to be.
That’s OK, they’ll put it through Friday. So after all is said and done, what was supposed to be a half hour appointment took a full hour. They told me I was the most patient person in the world. It’s a good thing Kev wasn’t there with me. He would have totally flipped out.
I call him afterwards, and he is pissed. He’s going to find out exactly what’s going on. Meanwhile, I still have to make the hike to Roswell for the next month before I can change my membership…and the only reason I had to do Roswell in the FIRST place was the coorperate account. But I doubt any of the closer Curves would make me such a generous offer.
I start monday. And it will be worth it. I need to lose…LOTS of inches. And muffins.
Anyone want to know what it feels like to have a 46oz can of vegetable juice fall out of the fridge and on to your foot?
huh??
well…let me tell you….
NOT GOOD!
I have to use some equipment that in a lab on the 4th floor whenever I work with radioactivity. Because the radiation safety department (theoretically) keeps track of all radioactivity (yeah yeah, in my case it’s radiolabeled dCTP, not generic “radioactivity). So anyway, when I use the equipment upstairs, I have to take our liquid radioactivity waste jug up with me. It sits in a big plexiglass retangular cube, with “RADIOACTIVE” stickers all over it.
I thouroughly enjoy riding in the elevator with my cart of radioactive waste when there’s other people in their with me. I love it. Lots of double takes, and slight edging over to the far end of the elevator.
It’s SAFE, people! Do you not SEE THE PLEXIGLASS CUBE???
Still…it makes me giggle in a very evil and not nice way.
I’m thinking about next time telling them that if they were to drink the jug, they’d get SUPERPOWERS!!! Bwaaahahahahhaaaa!!!
ps: I tried to find a picture of Meg with the long fingernails, but can you believe it? I COULDN’T! I have lost faith in google. But…I did find this. Awesome.
Oh the irony! The deliciously sad IRONY!
From MSNBC:
…52 percent of Americans disapprove of the job President Bush is doing overall, reports ABC News’ Polling director Gary Langer — the most in more than 75 ABC/Post polls since his presidency began. His approval rating is 48 percent.
George W. Bush’s approval rating is now a full twenty points lower than Bill Clinton’s was on the day he was impeached. Dear media, that means you gotta stop referring to him as a “popular president,” and no less important, stop treating him like one. If you want to be wimps about everything, fine, just don’t blame it on his ‘popularity.’ Blame it on yourselves.
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Now SHE’S hardcore!
from The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum:
A conceptually based sculptor, Demaray’s work has involved domesticating the great outdoors by knitting sweaters for plants, upholstering stones, and manufacturing alternative forms of housing for hermit crabs out of plastic. In a recent work titled The Nike Missile Cozy Project, Demaray upholstered a 10-ton Nike-Hercules Nuclear Warhead in eighty-eight yards of light blue quilted satin. In hand mapping the contours of the warhead in its silo at the Headlands Nike Missile Site in Sausalito, California, Demaray makes approachable the otherwise inimical object.
For this exhibition, Demaray took the Nike Missile Cozy and stuffed it, creating a lumpy, soft-bodied variant of the original form. This stuffed missile, titled Effigy, from the Nike Missile Cozy Project, was laid out across a series of sawhorses and inhabited the entire length of an Aldrich gallery. The lumpy shell of the cozy echoed the once destructive nature of the missile, and rendered the otherwise insidious object familiar and inert. Distorting our sense of order by wrapping the missile in its own cozy, Demaray explored the way our expectations of objects can affect our perceptions of the visual world.
Raw Monotany
Yet another conversation while watching wrestling (aka “wraslin’” )
Me: That’s how they ALL end
Kev: What?
Me: Then all end the same. That guy is winning, then the other guy, then the first guy pulls himself up and he’s winning…and just as he’s about to win, someone else entirely jumps into the ring and kicks his ass. they’re ALL the same.
Kev: no they’re not!
Me: YES THEY ARE!!!!
Kev: … dammit!
much tickling and our own kind of wrestling ensues. yay!
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Ebay power
My phone thong finally came in today. It is SOOO CUTE! Oh YEAH you want one! Don’t even be TELLING me that you don’t!
And I got it for $7 (including shipping). OH YEAH! WHO’S YOUR HERO???
Yeah, that’s what I THOUGHT you said!
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Layout musings
I’ve noticed that I’m doing a lot of these posts broken up into little sections. I could just post each one individually, a la Dan Tobin. But whenever I bury a post, everyone stops commenting on it. Doesn’t seem to be a problem on his site….but then he uses a lot smaller font than I do, so maybe that’s the key. If I made my font smaller, then more small posts would appear on the screen at once.
Then old people wouldn’t be able to read my blog, because the type would be too small for them. And I really don’t want to descriminate against old people, even if, as far as I know, no really old people (I’m talking 60+) read my site.
Maybe Dan Tobin hates old people? Bwahahahaha! (sorry Dan, you know I love your site!)
Doesn’t matter anyway, because I can start one of these posts with something very poignant, something I feel will really spark conversation. and then at the very end mention something very trivial, like how much I really like pie. Then 90% of my comments will be about pie.
So not complaining! But still…it’s very strange.
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Let’s get physical!
So if I can get out of the lab at a decent time (blogging not helping with this), and then fight traffic up to Norcross, I’m going to be joining Curves. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, Curves is a women-only excercise/workout facility. From what I’ve read, it’s just what I’m looking for. No thinking about which workout I should be doing, or waiting in a line for the bikes…everything is set up in an order, and everyone rotates and certain timepoints (I believe). Today I will sign up, and be evaluated according to my fitness needs. I will probably set off some kind of alarm as soon as I step in - WHOOOOP WHOOOOP WHOOOOP! FAT GIRL ALERT! WHOOOOP WHOOOOP WHOOOOOOP!
We get a discount through Kev’s job. he’s joining Gold’s Gym. I have to do the Curves in Norcross for a month, and then I can move my membership somewhere closer to home.
I hope I can keep it up. They recommend 3 times a week. I can handle that….I think.
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fun with food
Something to make you laugh.
woohoo!
I’ve given my blog address out to my friend Elizabeth. The one with the baby.
She pressured me! I swear!
I’m weak, I know….WEEEEEEEEAAAAAAK!!!!
So, everyone say “hello” to Elizabeth.
Now, she’s a respected wife and mother…but only a little over a year ago…bwaaahahahahahaaaa!!! This was her bachelorette party. Like the necklace? Yeah, I made that. Woohoo! Tybee Island!
YOU DON’T KNOW, MAN! YOU WEREN’T THERE!!!
*****UPDATE****
So then I start feeling bad…my friends Vic and Erin wanted to know my blogsite a while back, and I warned them off.
So IMing with Vic just a few minutes ago, I told him that I would give him the address if they still wanted it.
And he said….Erin had already found it! ACK!!! And she’d been READING IT! ACK ACK!!!
and she was SURPRISED AT SOME OF THE DETAILS!!!!!
Dude, seriously. It’s not like it’s all sex all the time here. Lately it’s about food.
(crock pot beef stew with dumplings tonight)
And lab suckiness. And randomness.
So anyway, a big “…but mostly rants” welcome to…VIC AND ERIN!!!
aren’t they cute?
(don’t worry, guys, most of my readership is pretty nice and I’m almost positive they won’t try to stalk you or cut out your faces and put them on nekkid pictures and sell them to porn sites)
Frozen white morons
As I was driving back from church, I got behind a white volvo with one of those abbreviate stickers on the back, similar to the “OBX” or “BNL” ones you see. This one said “CDN.” The letters were flanking with little maple leaf flags, and underneath in small letters it said “CANADA.”
Oh…so they just took out the “a’s” to make…canada…wait…that doesn’t work! CaDaNa? I sincerely hope that “CDN” stands for something else to canadians. Otherwise, these people were just stupid.
A few things that pointed me to the “stupid” conclusion: their license plate frame said “GO VEGAN!” and they also ran a red light right in front of a cop cap sitting in plane view. Unfortunately, the cop didn’t take the bait, but really…how stupid are you???
I am obviously NOT implying that all Canadians are stupid here. Just the ones from…Cadana. which actually makes sense if your nose is stuffed up. So maybe they weren’t stupid, they just had a cold?
~~see comments for explanation~~
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Do they make a patch for this?
I am getting somewhat frustrated with knitting as a hobby. I guess I never realized how expensive it would be. All the coolest yarns seem to be $8+…and only come in leeetle wee bundles…of which 10 or more are needed for a decent sized project.
now THERE’S incentive for a diet…lose weight and use less yarn for the clothing you make…hooray!
I am completely in awe of the knitting blogs I come across. These talented ladies turn out the most amazing projects in a matter of days…and somehow manage to support themselves with what has to be a $150/month yarn habit. All which leads me to wonder…DO THEY NOT WORK? Seriously. How can you afford the pretty yarn and still have tons of free time to use it???
My theory is that they don’t eat. Obviously, they can’t be spending any money on food. So my fatal flaw is that I like to cook. These two hobbies cannot co-exist peacefully. Something must suffer.
IT’S LIKE SOPHIE’S CHOICE!
Speaking of cooking, last night with my farmer’s market purchases I made the most WONDERFUL spicey Thai food! A super spicey Tom-yum hot and sour soup with mushrooms, green onions, and tofu. And a coconut curry with chicken and peppers with rice.
mmmmmm…
And this afternoon, I took the thick slices of Challah bread that I had left out overnight and made some french toast…droooooooool…..
(have you seen American Dad? “how’s your french toast, dear?” “smelly and ungrateful, but this AMERICAN toast is delicious!” bwaaahahahahahahaaaa!!!!)
(also, I have been bopping around singing “…I ain’t no CHALLAH back giiiiirl, ain’t no CHALLAH back giiiirl!….grooooooan!)
So anyway…yeah, giving up cooking is pretty much impossible. I must come up with another way to fund my new hobby.
I’ve decided on bank robbing. I’ll let you know how that goes.
Errands to run…
Had to go to the lab for a little bit today. The good news is that I won’t have to go in again tomorrow. The bad news is that the reason is that the test on my latest batch of plates wasn’t pretty - same problem. The denser sample cells grew a nice lawn. The dilute cells didn’t grow at all! So a wasted 128 plates and I can’t do a fluctuation experiment on tuesday. At least I found this out BEFORE I did my big experiment. But this plate problem is seriously starting to piss me off.
Next stop: Ace Hardware. Some paintbrushes Kev had ordered were in, and I wanted to get some NEW basil, as my last batch ALL DIED…AGAIN! And…some terra cotta pots. And…a tomato cage.
Last stop: Dekalb County International Farmer’s Market (aka “heaven on earth”). All I needed to get was some olive oil. And I wanted to pick up some peach nectar, so I could try out Serra’s EXCELLENT sounding peachy iced tea recipe.
And maybe JUST a few more things…maybe stuff to make some thai food…umm…yeah…fish sauce…and…some thai hot and sour soup mix…and coconut milk.
And I’d like to make some hummus…chick peas and tahini…oo…beans…more black beans…and some white beans…
Oh, and Thai basil. can’t make thai food without thai basil…oh, and I need cucumbers. and red peppers. And garlic. And mushrooms and tofu for the thai soup.
And lemons. limes.
Oh, and some fresh mozzerella to go with the tomatoes at home. And some soft and creamy frenchy bleu cheese.
But that’s ALL!
Oh, and challah bread.
and tortilla chips.
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Now with added “features”
If you have a good browser, you should be able to see my new “favicon.” Look up the page…further…further…see the address bar? Look before the address…see it? Yeah, I’m that cool. Go ahead…be jealous. I’ll just sit back and bask in the glory.
What do ya mean, “what’s it supposed to be?” It’s a DNA strand, silly!
Yeah, well, it was really very easy. Just go to this favicon creating website, upload a square picture, and it will generate an .ico file for you to download, which includes a readme file on how to install it.
One caution: you can’t store the .ico file on photobucket, so if that’s how you store your pictures, you’ll have to find a site that accepts that file type.
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google searches of note
too good to just stick on my side bar:
my mom took my razors away today and i stole some razors from the store and i cut myself (Google)
pussies shit crap poop sex (Google)
he found my g-spot (Google)
screw you guys i’m going home (Google)
Knitting Knidbits
I finally got to the sewing supply store yesterday. I wandered around the yarn room, running my fingers over beautiful and EXPENSIVE yarns. I can’t imagine using the really bulky wool stuff right now, so I was trying to find something lighter. I settled on a 80% cotton, 20% MERINO wool blend - so soft! And such pretty bright colors! And since I can never make up my mind, I bought three skeins in three different colors - turquoise, orange, and purple. I would have bought more of the same colors, but it’s just not in the budget. So now I need some small projects to work on to use up this beautiful yarn!
I also bought a neat little knitting reference flip book. It’s pretty extensive - everything from how to do certain techniques to how to determine your measurements. Now maybe I won’t need to call up my knitting friends in a panic when I don’t know how to do something!
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Headache cures
I had left work early again yesterday, in part because I couldn’t do the experiment I wanted to…AGAIN! and in part because I had a pounding headache. This weather is driving me NUTS! Rainy, cool, and dismal. WHERE IS THE SUN! I am part photosynthetic, and I’M WILTING!
So when I finally got home, I just plopped on the couch. Talked to Kev, and decided that when he got home, we’d head to our favorite little eatery. I called first, though…CRAP! Business was slow and they were closing early. Damn. Hazaards of the indepedently owned restaurant. Did I REALLY feel like cooking?
Well….I suppose…so I just “whipped up” some frozen ravioli with a quick homemade tomato sauce, and my sausage cheese bread, made with Pillsbury french bread dough, cooking italian sausage, and mozzerella. Oh, and a quick salad. Mmmmmm…
I was feeling A LITTLE better after eating, so Kev decided that the best way to make my headache go away for good was to give me several orgasms. Mmmmm….LOVE THAT MAN! Sex during the week has been pretty rare, since we’ve both been working long hours and are usually pretty exhausted. But I guess we’ve both been pretty invigorated this week - hooray! I’m not complaining 
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Squeaky clean
Today is our annual Lab Cleaning Day. We’re such a girly lab, I know. No other lab I know of here does this. But it really does help us cut down on media contamination. We’ve cleaned up our benches and desks, and the new summer undergrads have done a bang up job of the common spaces, and everything is going very quicky. We’re on a lunch break, and then we’ll tackle the cold rooms. Ugh. A lot of the mess in there is mine….whooops!
But the important thing now is that my bench and desk are CLEAN! and ORGANIZED! They are beautiful to behold!
Now if I could just keep my CONDO clean…
Today I finished earlier than expected, and decided to use the extra time before choir practice to head on over to my local neighborhood yarny store and buy some fun yarn to play with. I called ahead of time, listened to the voice message, found out they closed at 6 on weekdays. perfect. I could leave at 5, get there at 5:30, buy yarn, find out if there were any classes being offered this month, and have plenty of time to get dinner and then get to choir.
10 minutes after I left, N from the lab called.
“are you running a gel?”
fuck, forgot to shut that off. no worry, N told me, she had just left herself, but B would be back in the lab in a half hour, so I could just call and tell her to shut off the gel.
Fine. I fight traffic and get to the sewing store. Closed.
Fuck. “closed wednesdays”
well…THAT little piece of information would have been useful on their voicemessage!
I call the lab, no answer.
Oh well, I swing by mcdonalds, get me a #2, and then head in the direction of church. But it’s WAAAAAY too early still. Hmmm…well, past my church there’s a shopping center with a Petsmart. I need more poopy pick up bags and doggy shampoo, and maybe some more flavored rawhide bones.
Ok, well, that killed 15 minutes. Damn. I was hoping they’d have an “adoption day” going, and I could play with the cute and fuzzies.
Called the lab again. No answer.
Sigh. I drove to my church, and sat in the parking lot for 20 minutes.
Call the lab. No answer
Go in to choir practice.
Call the lab, no answer.
middle of practice, we get a break.
Call the lab, no answer.
Practice is over. I’m going to have to drive back to the lab and do it myself! But, just in case…
call the lab. No answer.
I park in a handicap spot in front of the building, sprint in, run to the lab (WHY is it unlocked? grumble bitch gonna have something stolen here…bitch grumble)
There’s B, sitting at her bench.
“how long have YOU been here?”
“oh for a while now. do you have a gel running?”
“AAAAARRRRRRRCH!”
“was that you calling?”
“YES!!! FOREVER!!!”
“every time it rang, I was in the middle of something, and when finally I went to pick it up, I got a dial tone!”
yeah, our voice mail picks up quick. it took a lot of self control to not scream WE HAVE A CORDLESS PHONE! YOU COULD HAVE KEPT IT WITH YOU!!!
Gah!
is it friday yet?
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