Evilsciencechick

Of note:

today, someone with the Yahoo ID “nigga4life2010″ tried to add me to his friends list. Ummm…I don’t think so, no.

Someone found my blog today Google searching for “blogspot she was hiccuping”

If Kevin gets his butt in gear, tonight we’re going to see “Debbie Does Dallas, the Musical” Hooray!

When I was younger and stupid, ie: in high school, my music tastes did not wander too far away from the top 40 station. The exception was my disturbingly large collection of musical soundtracks. Actually, the musical soundtracks were my clue as to what my taste would develop into, once the facism of high school was behind me. What I like about music is the singing. Why? Selfishly, it’s because I like to sing. I like music I can sing along to. Loudly. When I’m in the car. Or doing the dishes. Or just walking down the street. I have a pretty good voice, I’m not ashamed!

So when the hardcore grunge of the early 90’s slowly gave way to the singer songwrite, I was in heaven! Especially the women artists like Sarah and Jewel (yes, Jewel, before she sold out and become all whore-y).

I think the reason I love that kind of music so much is how expressive it is, capturing nuances of emotion that I could never express otherwise. I am not a poet or songwriter. I don’t scribble my pain away on tablets. I envy those that do. Instead I sing my pain away in songs that other people wrote. I have lived my life as soundtracks. Songs for the sad times and happy times, when I’m in love or when I’m brokenhearted. It’s pretty safe to say that I’ve got a song playing in my head most of the time. And not always the annoying ones, like the winky winky song.

The Indigo Girls have been around a long time. I knew of their existance when I was in high school and college. I knew that their music was right up my alley. But, and this is perhaps one of the stupidest notions I have ever had: I was afraid to buy a CD or listen to their music much. Why? Because they were…gasp! lesbians. Don’t get me wrong, I had no qualms with lesbians. But I went to college in a very small, very rural town. People were not very open minded about alternative lifestyles. I was afraid that if I listened to music sung by lesbians, people would think I was a lesbian. After all, I wasn’t really dating anyone. I was not sleeping around with the college boys. I was teetering on the edge, apparently, and I didn’t want anything to push more over the social ledge.

Now, is that about the dumbest logic you have ever heard in YOUR ENTIRE LIFE??? I am ashamed to even admit it.

Fast forward to my first year in Atlanta. A friend in my class asks if anyone wants to go see the Indigo Girls in concert. Sure! Why not? I was curious. And slight more evolved than I had been in college (I hoped).

That was one of the most amazing concerts I had ever been to. That music took hold of me. Every song Amy and Emily sang was TO ME! Like they knew me! They were singing my soundtrack!!!

After the concert, Least Complicated was my new favorite song. I went out and bought some CD’s. Like an addict, I wanted more!

I have downloaded and installed the Firefox browser from Mozilla, and therefore have inched my way up the geek ladder somewhat. Seems to be working OK. I’m hoping to avoid any more nasty spyware incidents. Anyone else using it who has an opinion?

Once again, I have failed my dog as a mother. I’ve been promising to take her to the park now that the weather is nice a cool. I don’t take her in the heat of summer, as she spends most of the time lying in my shade. Sucks to have a black fur coat in July in Atlanta. But now the weather is wonderfully cool and perfect park weather.

Yesterday I got home from work too late. Today, Kevin surprised me for our year and a half anniversary (we’re so sweet it’s pathetic, right?) with take out fried chicken, cole slaw, mashed potatoes, and super sweet tea from Mrs. Winners, apple pie and a chocolate bar, and flowers.

Best. Boyfriend. Ever.

Tomorrow is choir practice. So THURSDAY I WILL TAKE MY POOR NEGLECTED DOG TO THE PARK!!! And she will stop giving me those sad puppy looks

yeah, like that.

I generally get the cooking bug on a friday night. Unless we’re going out, I usually try to make something fun. Today I felt like cookies.

Under the guise of “my dietician said I need to eat more fiber,” I made some yummy oatmeal cookies, but substituted the walnuts for butterscotch and white chocolate chips. yummy!

I did go a little cooking crazy today, but it was a rough week. So roast pork loin, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and caesar salad, all washed down with a nice white wine seemed like a good way to end a crappy week. mmmmmm…feeling much better now.

No big plans for the weekend. some cleaning, maybe a trip to a mall (woohoo!). I still have to get pictures developed from my trip to Cedar Point, and I have to post on the recipe site.

Since it will be a lazy weekend, and not too many people will be blogging (pout!), again I ask…

Any questions for me?
Any recipe requests?
Any picture requests?

Have a great weekend!

It is very dark.

And windy.

And rainy. Not normal rain…scary-ass sideways rain that is almost a solid entity instead of drops.

And I am about to walk out of the building and to my car and try to drive home, where, kevin has informed me, we have no power.

Grrr…

Then again, no tv…no computer games…and no blogging? How will we spend our time? Whatever shall we do? hehehe…

I have entered the dark side. There is no hope for me.

Thanks to Fleecy-poo, I now have a Gmail account. Yay! The ultimate email geek accessory. Now all I need is an mini ipod and I’ll be styling. Styling like a geek.

Anyway, I changed my email link on the side to reflect the change. my new email address is:

evilsciencechickatgmaildotcom

The yahoo address will now become my full time spam email. I also have a yahoo account that is my main account crazy blog stalkers like yourselves will never know.

I have too many email accounts! Hooray!

This falls under the category of “only funny if you’re a grad student.”

I found these at a website for a comic called Piled higher and Deeper (PhD…get it?)

Never ask me when do I think I’ll finish. I will hit you. Unless you’re family. But it’s getting to the point where I’m going to start hitting them, too.

Sad, but true. I have a graph (a huge graph, but a single one none the less) that has 5 years worth of data on it.

I think I’ll get this one on a T-shirt

I was probably around 13 when I went up one of the twin towers with my family. Standing next to the buildings and looking straight up, I couldn’t imagine that something could be that tall - they seemed to go up forever. On a previous trip we had done the empire state building, but the WTC dwarfed King Kong’s favorite NY hangout.

I remember the looooong elevator ride, thinking hat I hope the elevator didn’t break down because I did NOT want to have to climb all those stairs.

The view from the top was amazing. You could see everything…and waaaay in the distance, a tiny statue of liberty. There was a railing in front of the observation windows, probably to keep people from leaning on them. I stood up on the lower railing and leaned just my head on the glass to get the best veiw down. And something was climbing up the building! AAAAAAGH!

It was a neat little machine that cleaned the windows. It looked like it ran on vertical tracks, up and down the building. cool! We spent probably around 45 minutes there, before riding the elevator down down down and on to the next tourist stop. Never imagining that 11 years later it would be gone.

We’re not doing anything special today, really. Some good friends of mine that moved to Charleston are back in town, so we’re all going over to another couple’s place for dinner and game night. I volunteered Kevin to make his famous beer butt chicken (I’ll take pics for the recipe site).

After 9/11, people said that nothing would ever be the same again, but there are still get-togethers with beer butt chicken and good wine and great friends. The terrorists failed to crush us, and I hope their souls are in a dark, hot, tortuous hell, and I hope they realize they failed and I hope that’s the worst pain of all.

I’ve updated the picture site with some old pictures my grandmother gave me. Including some of me with unfortunate hair.

Just a warning…it’s bad.

I’m back. and exhausted. and I have blisters on my feet.

HOOORAYYY! another succesful vacation.

Cedar point was fun for the most part. I relented and bought an overpriced disposable camera to take pictures with. But now you’ll all have to wait until I get them developed to see them.

Since we were there on weekdays at the end of the season, the park wasn’t at all crowded, and only the newest rides had lines. The weather was sunny but not hot, perfect park weather. We stayed in one of the cute little cabins owned by the park - within walking distance of Cedar point and Soak city. hehe, I haven’t been to a water park in YEARS! So much fun!

Entering rant mode.

There was one thing that left a big dark blot on my vacation. Cedar point has two new rollercoasters. The Millenium Force and the Dragster. Millenium Force is a huge and fast rollercoaster. Nothing but good reviews. Dragster is one of the scariest looking things I’ve seen in a long time. It takes you from 0 to 125mph in about one second, shoots you up a track that goes straight up in the air 420 feet, over a hump, then straight down. And when I say straigt, I mean 90 degrees. Perpendicular to the ground. It looks awsome. And no weenie “over the head and shoulder” lockdown supports, either. There’s a seatbelt, and a bar that locks down over your lap, and that’s the only support you get.

A little back story. Apparently, at some park in new england, a fat guy got on a rollercoaster and was having trouble fastening the seatbelt. The park worker forced the belt in and sent the ride on its merry way. The strain on the belt was so much that during the ride, the belt broke, the fat guy fell, and died.

Major amusement parks response to this tragedy? Did they make the belts a little bigger to accomodate more people? Did they add more supports in as fail safes?

No.

They SHORTENED the seatbelts, and made a rule that they had to be able to fasten them, and then tighten the belt so that at least one inch of excess was visible.

Result?

I was unable to ride either the Millennium force or the Dragster because I am too fat.

I have never been so embarassed in my life.

There may be some of you reading this thinking “well, chubbo, better lose the pounds! serves you right for eating too many twinkies!”

for the record, I don’t eat twinkies.

I have been overweight my entire life. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms with it. It’s only been in the past few years that I have allowed myself to look in the mirror and think “I am beautiful” blah blah, I’ve blogged about this before. But I have never let being overweight hold me back. I’ve played sports. I’ve gone hiking, whitewater rafting, skiing. While I may have struggled a bit more to accomplish these things because of my weight, I have never been told that I couldn’t do them because of my weight.

And I’m definatly not in the morbidly obese catagory. I know I should lose weight, and I’m working on it. But it’s not like i have rolls of leg fat obscuring my ankles, or anything (shudder!). I’m pretty much on the lower end of the fat crowd. By shortening the seatbelts, Cedar Point has prevented a large (haha, pun intended) percentage of the population from riding those coasters!

Fortunately, those two rides have “test” seats at the start of the line, so you can sit in them and make sure you can fit in. That at least saved me the embarassment of finding out in front of an entire line full of people. I was about an inch short of getting the seatbelt clipped. Cruel fate. Kevin, somehow, squeezed himself into Milenium force, while I shopped around the frotier village shops. While his belly is bigger than mine, his hips are narrower. Damn womanly figure! He tried later to blow it off as no big deal, but I could tell he thought it was great. Later he asked if I would mind him going on the dragster, and it was just too much for me. I told him fine, I’d meet up with him later, but he realized how upset I was and said forget it. What was I supposed to say? “Yes dear, please by all means leave me alone again while you ride another one of those awsome rides that your fat girlfriend can’t. I’d be thrilled if you did that. Be sure to wave at me from the top!”

To top it off, you can see the track for the dragster all over the damned park. So no matter what ride we were on, I could see it looming over me, taunting me.

So that was the big blot on my vacation. Not too terrible (oh poor baby, couldn’t ride 2 of the many many rides at cedar point, boo hoo!). A good time was had by all, and that’s pretty much all that counts anyway, right?

I’ll have to post this now, as I won’t be able to tomorrow. But as it’s 12:08am, it IS technically Sept 2.

Scroll down for the latest vacay update.

A wonderful blogger, The Dastard, is having a birthday today. According to his profile, there will be 104 candles on his cake. Wow…someone call the fire dept. and have them on standby, ok?

What can we say about the Dastard?
This evasive creature, Limulus Polyphemus & Bean Town boy, will not allow his visage to be published on-line. He is quick, shifty, and likes to tease. I guess that’s why he’s the Dastard. Some speculate that he is just shy. The ladies are convinced, however, that the real reason is that he is so damned handsome. That has to be it…He won’t show us his picture because he knows that all of the ladies in his cyber-harem would fall desperately in love with him (well, that is, those who aren’t already)!

Dastardisms
A big part of the reasons why we love the Dastard so much is the funny and clever things he says in comments - our comments and his own.

“The eyes follow you everywhere because the body they are attached to follows you everywhere. uh….that sounded a lot more creepy than sexy, huh? Sorry.”

“The beer in the fridge it’s yours…except the PBR, that’s mine. And put back what ever you find in my sock/porn drawer.”

“Sowing discord where ever I go. That’s the Dastard way.”
“I am wearing sparkly no-pantz right now!”

“I am nnnnooottttt…a…scifi..d..do..or…….Argh. I can’t say it, but I did try so I still win.”

“What’s all this then? Oh, (large lapelled shirt open to my navel) it’s time for The Dastard to kiss and make love to a certain special lady or ladies tonight, maybe followed by a little light sloth-tossing.”

“Sorry. some of the below is witless prattle and may be boooorrrringgg!!!
I like saying “witless prattle.” Did I just dis myself. Doh!”

“Me fail English, that’s unpossible!!!”

“WUTTHEFUCKAREYOUEVENTALKINGABOUT?!!!!” “Better have my money now. I’m The Dastard, bitch!”

“Your mamma has an afro with a chin-strap”

“The picture you have up now is Hi-larry-us! I can’t believe someone
actually made a conscious decision to leave the house looking like a
total…wait-a-minute..Um…DAD?!!!!!”

“Thanks for the big ‘ol man-hug. Sorry I forgot to put deodorant on.”

“Have you read all the way to the bottom and no dirty stuff or political rhetoric? Don’t be mad, here’s your reward: pener, hoo-ha, boobie, heiney, doin’-it, president.”

“huhehheheheee…you like to eat….never mind. BAD DASTARD!!”

“I don’t have 2 pussies but I do have a man-gina.”

“You don’t want to be to harsh with the kitty. It’s much better to be even handed. Maybe you should start gently and then add more discipline as needed, depending on the behavior of the kitty. Try this strategy: “nice kitty, nice kitty, nice, nice kitty, nice…bad kitty! bad kitty, bad, bad kitty….nice kitty, very nice kitty.”

“I am your Bare and Unbalanced news source.”

“I would never burst your bubbles, only gently caress and massage them.”

“I like a girl who can guffaw at wrong things.”

“Or maybe I’ll just mount and then stuff you. Oh, you heard right”

“Hullo Random Gentle Sleepy Peach. Wakey-wakey. Poke-poke.”

“The REdasTard had struck again”

“Remember to always probe your meatballs.”

“I am wearing paper pantz”

“My mom made me those pants!! Shut up!!!”

“Great, now everybody knows what my ass looks like. Thanks a lot
Fleece. That camera phone is dangerous.”

“Actually that is not me. I would never wear a red thong with pink tite-pantz.”

“I cloned headless babies.”

“I’m the only boob here.”

“Did you really stay up until 1am last night like a big loser waiting
for blogger to come back? Huh? How do I know it was back up at 1? Ummmmmm……I, ah….shutup Fleece”

“It’s Don Juan Dastardo to you!”

“I am not trying to be a tease, unless your name is Michael or Gooch and have a tub of ass-wax. Damn, am I typing it instead of only thinking it again?”

“why does everyone think they are the boss of me. “Dastard get haloscan. Dastard put up a new post. Dastard stop dating my mom.”"

“I did everything exactly like you said…but after I asked this one guy to smell it, well, that’s the last I remember until I woke up in a hotel room somewhere in Thailand, wearing nothing but a leopard print banana-hamock.”

“Comply!”

Critics Agree…
“Dastard, even though I crush on you, you don’t pick on me about it.
Everything is fair game, and I love that. Happy Birthday Shmoopee!” - Lovisa

I think he is great, he shows a side you don’t often see in the real world and that’s refreshing. - Nord

“Dastard, Cheri, you know that I think you are simply the cat’s pajamas. You are sensitive, intelligent, mysterious, obnoxious, freaking hilarious, thoughtful, and oh so sexy - everything I love in a man. Happy Birthday! *104 WHAPS and matching giggle smooches!* - Celti

What I like about El Dastardo.. he’s witty, not afraid to make fun of himself, insightful and not afraid to admit (gasp) he has feelings and is sometimes confused and angry about life. He’s remarkably upfront about what others may see as “geeky science stuff.” I think he has a true passion for it and doesn’t give a rats ass what anyone thinks. Did I mention he’s a real hoot? And even though we’ve never seen his face, he truly has a sexy personality. I hope he’s willing to meet me when I got to Boston later this Fall. What he said to me today in comments really did cause intense passion to flood my loins, which was no more than “I’ll make you come… up here.” LOL!!! He has such a way about him that you can’t help but think of him sitting at his computer, biting his lip with a wicked, wicked grin on his face as he spars with the bloggers. He’s a diamond in the rough. - Inanna

That Dern Dastard! There was this time that I thought Dastard was trying to steal my identity. He signed off as Cooter Pie on Sloth’s website… and I felt oh-so violated. After all, I’m the sweetest Cooter there is… and if he was closer to the midwest, I’d eat him right up! Cootersnap likey Cooter Pie… - Ang

The Dastard is a good man deep inside. i used my x-ray vision of doom and i saw the truth. inside the spiky metal armor beats a great big heart with real feelings inside it. -el sid

He’s my Distardly boy — even though he often commits fashion faux pas
that I document on my blog (hello! red crisscrossy pants!). I love
this guy for his quirkiness, insight and fearlessness to question
everything that challenges him. Happy Birthday, Dastard! Fleecely hugs and love.
- Fleece

Top Ten Reasons I love the Dastard:
1. He’s funny
2. He’s smart
3. He has pretty eyes
4. He always says the right things: “Aimee: you are as sweet as a Krispy Kreme. I will think about you the next time I eat one but I will be thinking something nasty too.”
5. Waaay back, before we even knew about the moth flies in the men’s bathroom, he told us about his love of crotch-less wetsuits, the funny-name lists he makes, and his missing asparagus-pee enzyme. When I commented, his reply was, “Aimee: Consider yourself Mrs. Dastard”, so I do.
6. When I get sick & have pulled muscles, he says, “My favorite Goofhead: Aww..blisters and pulled muskles. You need some tender dastardly luv.
7. When I flirt with guys, he chastises me in the nicest way (and makes me blush), “FLIRTED WITH A GUY?!! Let me at ‘im! Seriously, that’s good pour vous. But we already knew you were a great flirt.”
8. Even though he’s in love with Lovisa (aka: Lovie Poppet), see #5 above. (heehee!)
9. He and Sloth are friends, and Sloth is a good, good woman.
10. He had the good sense to be born a Virgo.
Happy Birthday, Dastard. Love you. - Aimee

Dear Dastard, because it is your birthday and ONLY because it is your birthday, I will, for one day only…………………………let you be the boss of me. - Sloth

And Now…a little musical dedication to our Dastard:

• “Dastard of Blogging”

• Click the Title to Hear the Tune - Sung by Michael to the music of “Master of
  Puppets” by Metallica.

  Who the hell is that
  In the Krispy Kreme hat
  Elusive just to scoff you
  His references you heed
  Books that you should read
  Vonnegut and Nabakov, too.

  I will read your site
  ’Cause you’re erudite
  The pics you volunteer
  Are in your scuba gear

  Come scrawling faster
  The blog of Dastard
  His comments blast ya
  The blog of Dastard
  Dastard

  Dastard of blogging he’s funny as hell
  Bein’ a wise-ass, but bein’ himself
  Blinded by wit you can’t see his face
  That or ‘cause his hand’s in the way
  Dastard
  Dastard
  Sometimes he’s “Dangsta” but I’m gonna say
  Dastard
  Dastard

  
  We love you Dastard. Have a very, very happy birthday!

Ack. I’ve been bad about responding to comments. Usually I blog throughout the day, answering comments at will. But now I only have time to log in at night.

Another exhausting day today. Went shopping with Kevin and Mom. He wanted to buy shoes (tax free in PA, miss that in GA :P) I bought shoes, sandals, and a new bl…

(GAAAAAH! Big black spider crawling next to me! GAAAAAAH! Kevin took care of it. My hero
where was I? A new blender, in black. We’ve had the worst luck with blenders, they always break pretty easily. This one is glass and metal and seems pretty heavy duty. It was $32, and just couldn’t pass it up!

The on to Sam’s club for new tires. I have the best mom ever - she paid.

Later, on to K-wood park! Yay!

It’s hard to explain K-wood to those who have never been there, and haven’t grown up in pittsburgh. K-wood is an amusement park. It’s very old, and it has a nice blend of new rides and historic rides. Kevin likes it there because it’s cheaper than Six Flags.

But for those of us that grew up going to K-wood for school picnics and family gatherings every year, the park holds a very deep emotional attachment.

See that tree over there? Jenni used to sit there when the rest of us rode the pirate ship - it made her sick. Every time the ship swung up high so we could see her, we’d all yell “JENNI!!!” and embarass the hell out of her.

See that rock over there? In 8th grade, that’s where we saw Becky’s boyfriend Brian kissing Jennifer A. It was the scandal of the year.

Of course, things change. They turned the Haunted Hidaway/Old Mill ride into something called “Garfield’s Nighmare,” which is a cute 3D boat ride in the same building. I made Kevin kiss me for the picture that they take (so you can purchase it for the low low price of $7 after the ride) because the Old Mill was always the traditional “make out” ride and I never had anyone to make out with on it before.

I realized I can’t reclaim my youth at K-wood, because about an hour after eating a cheeseburger and greasy fries, we thought it would be a good idea to ride The Volcano (formerly The Enterprise), which is a ride that goes in circles and then goes upside down. I used to LOVE that ride when I was a kid. The effect it has on me now is much different. I didn’t throw up, but I came darned close. So no more fast circular rides for me for the rest of the evening!

Rode every roller coaster, though. I LOVE roller coasters! Love the Jackrabbit, with it’s double hump hill which practically throws you out of the seat. Love the Racer, even though I’m ALWAYS on the losing coaster.
Love the Phantom’s Revenge, SO much better than the old Steel Phantom, which shook you around so much that you left with a headache.

We watched the Fall Fantasy parade. My old high school wasn’t marching today, I think they do it wednesday or thursday. But still it was fun to watch the bands. I miss marching band sometimes. Sometimes.

I bought a T shirt and some cotton candy to bring home to share with my mother.

I am very very tired. We have no real plans tomorrow, except dinner with my great aunt and uncle. I’ll try to sort through those pictures then. Maybe go visit my brother’s grave in the afternoon. It will be nice to have a day off on my vacation! We have to take Sadie to the boarding place tomorrow night, though, as we’re leaving for Ohio on thursday pretty early on thursday. Poor Sadie. Wish I could disguise her as my ugly hairy child and take her with us!

Yay vacation! Kev and I made the trip in 12 hours, including pit stops. My parents were none too thrilled (”were you going 90mph????” “yeah, a little…”)

Today we celebrated my mother’s birthday. We at a big lunch at the new Cheesecake Factory in the south side. I’ve been to the one in atlanta a few times. Mmmm…their food is soooooo good! I had the tiramisu cheesecake. There was a free concert festival at point park, featuring Reba McEntire, so we went to that next.

Something you should know about pittsburghers. ELo, back me up: if you provide free entertainment, booths serving fried food, and fireworks, you are guarenteed to get the bulk of the city of pittsburgh to show up.

We set up chairs and listened to the opening acts as the sky slowly darkened with threatening clouds. We only had three folding chairs, so I stretched out on the blanket and took a short nap - I was sooooo full from lunch.

My parents and I are…eh…about country music, but the big entertainment is the people watching. Whoa…the trash was out en force tonight. There was a girl sitting in front of us for awhile that really killed me.

Now, I am overweight. I know this. I know that I am beautiful. I realize that while I am free to wear whatever I choose, I will look my best in clothes that flatter my figure. So I wear things that emphasize my breasts and de-emphasize my tummy. This girl must have been close to 400 lbs. She was wearing…wife beaters (for those that don’t know, “wife beaters” is slang for men’s tank undershirts). Which were very tight on her, revealed all her lumpiest parts, and when she sat down, exposed at least half of her back, and the ugly tattoo on it. Whoa.

Later, three men sat in front of us rolling cigarettes and smoking them Bleah! A girl walked by wearing a low cut white shirt that was wet, and her blue lacy bra was clearly visible. Did I mention she looked about 16?

Later in the night, the Elvis impersonators walked by. God, I wish I had remembered to bring my camera. The first guy was about 5′3″, big poofy black wig, full beard, and HUGE beer gut. He was wearing the white Elvis costume circa 1972, with the…well…remember “the dress” worn by J. Lo a few years back? Well, it was cut like that, exposing his huge, hairy, beer gut. The other Elvis with him was a scrawny black guy who’s costume sort of hung limply on him. They passed in front of us, and Kevin moved our blanket out of their way. The first Elvis turned to look at him. “thank you, thank you very much.”

My dad announced that it made the entire concert. We all agreed, after we stopped crying from laughing so hard.

We decided not to stay for Reba’s whole set, as 1. we saw heavy lightening in the distance, and 2. the thought of fighting the crowd to get out of there was not at all appealing. We would miss the fireworks, but it seemed the best plan. Just as we got back to the van, the sky opened up and sheets of rain drenched everyone who didn’t take cover in time. yay! Good timing.

So now we’re just watching a Bond movie and snacking on leftover pizza. Tomorrow we visit some relatives, and maybe later get some new tires for my car at Walmart (parents are picking up the tab, because I am P-O-O-R and pathetic) as my tires are dangerously bald.

Some people go to beachy exotic places for vacation, but I doubt they had fat hair Elvis impersonators!!!

There is no dumber phrase ever uttered in a funeral home

Before they left for Scranton, mom went through grandma’s closets to find something to bury her in. Grandma had closets and closets of clothes, all of which she paid no more than a quarter for. No dresses. Nothing my mom deemed “appropriate.” So she went to buy a dress for grandma.

“make sure it’s on sale,” dad said. “or she’ll come BACK!”

Mom bought a dress that grandma never would have bought herself.

As we got ready to leave for the funeral home, mom said “they say this is supposed to make you feel better, but I can’t see how.” I agreed

My feeling is, once you are dead, you are gone. What you leave behind is a shell. What was waiting for us at the funeral home was no longer my grandma, but her shell. And instead of having my last memory of her being alive, I will have a memory of what her empty shell looks like.

It didn’t look like grandma. We all stood around the casket. She was wearing a beautiful purple dress with beading. Mom was right, grandma would NEVER wear something like that. They painted her nails. Mom: “I don’t think I have ever seen Mom with painted nails in my life!”

Mom was worried they would have done her hair up too fancy or put too much makeup on, thank god they didn’t. But her face still looked strange, alien. Like there was too much skin. We stood there, and though tears were in my eyes, I was holding it together…until

“there’s a picture of Aaron in there!” Mom had given them a picture of my brother to put in the casket. It was of him at their high school graduation party, about 4 months before he got sick. I lost it. I cried and cried on my mom’s shoulder. We both cried. Because then it had really hit home for me at that moment. There was my brother, and there was my grandma, and I would never see them here on earth again. And I just hoped they were together in heaven now (I am crying so hard right now, as I’m typing this). No matter what that jerk priest said about purgatory.

And I had to sit there later and listen to several people say the asinine yet obligatory “oh, she looks just like she’s sleeping!” and I wanted to SCREAM at them because THAT’S NOT WHAT GRANDMA LOOKS LIKE WHEN SHE’S SLEEPING!!!! When I saw her sleeping she’d be sitting on the couch, with the paper in her lap, head tilted back, mouth hanging open, snoring like hell, and letting out the occasional old woman tooty fart, because THAT’S what old people do when they’re sleeping! They don’t do their hair and makeup and wear fancy dresses and fold their hands together around a rosary! That was not my grandma. She was gone.

Monday morning we went back to the funeral home and waited for all those who would attend the funeral. The funeral director called their names so each person could come forward and pay their last respects. He mangled a lot of the polish names, which we thought was weird because the home was in a big polish neighborhood. We were last, then we went out to the limo. The pall bearers that Dad had recruited the day before loaded her casket into the hearse, and the long line of cars drove to the church.

The church was her sister’s church, Aunt Dorothy. It was named after an unpronounceable Polish saint, which I learned later was just St. Peter, that’s just how you say it in Polish. The steps leading up to the church were very steep, which made me nervous, since the pall bearers unloaded the casket and took it up into the church! That was new one. I thought “they better have secured her good in there!”

They did a full mass, with communion and everything. I did a reading from the book of Romans, and I have to say that I did a better job of it than my cousin (of some sort, 4th cousins and such), who was a theater major. Then the priest did the whole incense ball thing and waved it around the casket. Smelled awful but it cleared my sinuses.

Then the casket was taken back DOWN the steep steps (ARG!) and loaded back into the hearse and we drove to the cemetery, where AGAIN they took out the casket and took it into a little sanctuary. The priest said a few more prayers and that was it. We didn’t go to the grave. Mom had been worried about the weather, and also that the plot was on a hill, and didn’t want the older relatives trying to walk up to it.

And grandma is gone. I just talked to my mom today to wish her a happy birthday. She’s been with grandpa all week, and he is being difficult.

“dad, do you know how to use the microwave?”
“I’ll do what I need to do”
“do you want me to show you?”
“no”

she said yesterday she brought up the subject of where he wants to live. He told her to go to hell. (still think he’s cute and cuddly? Grandpa has a stubborn streak a mile wide…said the pot to the kettle…)

This is not going to be easy.

Hey guys. Sorry I’m not posting as much as usual. I’m working on (in my head) a post about my grandfather. But I’ve been pretty busy at work, as I was out of town, and since our yearly trip to pittsburgh is next week and I’ll be missing yet MORE work, I want to get as much stuff done as possible to avoid getting the look from my boss when I remind her I won’t be here next week.

That was a very long sentence, and I apologize.

In more positive news, I met with a dietician today to discuss lowering my cholesterol (206 total, I think my “bad” cholesterol is 137, which is apparently not good). My doctor had warned me that she would tell me to cut out chicken and red meat. Bleah! Not good, especially since I told Kevin whatever diet I’m on, HE’LL be on. That didn’t go over so well.

Fortunatly, the dietician seemed somewhat impressed with my diet. I don’t use a lot of processed foods, and I cook with healthy oils. Hooray! So with the exception of cutting down on my potato chip and cheese intake, most of the dietary changes I’ll be making are additions.

I’m supposed to make my diet more mediterranean. For instance more oats, rye, olives, and beans. Also I’m to buy whole flax seeds, grind them up and sprinkle them over my food to get more omega 3 fatty acids. Um….mmmmm….yummy?

I don’t cook with beans much. Canned bake beans, and black beans and rice are pretty much it as far as my experience goes. So if anyone out there has recipes for whole beans that they would like to share, I would very much appreciate it. You can post it on the recipe site. If you’re not on the recipe site, drop me an email and I’ll add you. I have to use whole beans.

Also, any recipes using oats, rye, or barley would be greatly appreciated.

I’m back. I’m safe. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. I will post all about my weekend when I’ve had time to decompress and think ab0ut things.

In the meantime, I’m going to go read up on you guys and find out what I missed!

Good to be home

…and because I don’t think you guys are sick of me yet, I’ve started my photo blog. It’s Inanna’s fault, really.

I also added a teaser link on my sidebar. I’ll change the pic for the link to reflect the content. Probably.

I’ll take requests for pictures as well (no nudity!), at least I’ll try.

This is the most recent picture I have of my grandmother. I took it last thanksgiving. It’s not the greatest - she blinked.

I still feel like it hasn’t fully sunk in yet. This is the busy time, after a death. The time of phone calls and planning flights and such. You’re so busy trying to figure out the how and when, because the why is too painful to think about.

So many memories to sift through.

Grandma Helen wasn’t the greatest cook, but she knew where all the good bakeries were. They brought these apricot sandwich cookies from a bakery near them whenever they came in. mmmmmm

She would never sit down for more than 5 minutes at a time during a meal. she was always getting up to get something for my grandpa, or to take dishes in to the kitchen. Grandpa would yell at her “WILL YOU SIT DOWN???” “I’m just taking the salad bowls in, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

They yelled at each other like only people who had been in love for 60 years do. It was LOVE yelling, and it made the rest of us laugh.

Grandma loved playing cards. Her game was 500 rummy. She would let the discard pile get really big, and then take every card and put down 200 points worth of matches. She always creamed us. Grandpa would yell “YOU’RE CHEATING!” “NO I’M NOT! I just needed that jack!”

They would drive in christmas morning, usually in the middle of the gift opening orgy. Her pet peeve was wrapping paper on the floor. She would immediately find a garbage bag and pick up all the papers and ribbons, and then sit there until we were done. “give me your paper, I’ll put it in the bag.” Somewhere I have a picture of her still in her coat, sitting next to a huge overstuffed garbage bag full of paper.

Grandma would give us money like she was buying drugs. She’d fold up the bills real small, then come up like she was going to give us a hug,then press the folded money into our hands. “don’t tell your mother”

She was Thrifty but Generous. She and grandpa live like paupers. Once they cancelled a seniors trip to vegas because it was going to cost them $350 instead of $310. After telling my mom this, they wrote her a check for several thousand dollars to help with college tuition for me and my brothers.

They would go to the grocery store for sales of things like “tuna, 3/$1, limit 6 per customer.” She would go through and buy 6. Then grandpa would go buy 6. Later that day they would do it again. Their basement was full of tuna, jello, canned beans, and frozen donald duck orange juice. She would also brag about how cheaply she bought bananas. Every time they visited they brought us bananas and donald duck orange juice (which is the worst orange juice ever, but we drank it anyway!)

Mom would take all the clothes that we weren’t wearing any more and take them to goodwill. Grandma insisted on going through the bags first, because, as she said “you throw away good stuff!” She would take the clothes home for her and grandpa. She was very handy with the sewing machine, so we were always surprised to see the reincarnation of an old christmas dress into a snappy blouse. Grandpa was not so lucky. Once when mom went to visit them, he was wearing one of her old turtlenecks. He didn’t care, he wore whatever grandma told him to.

She had trouble remembering names, so any time she wanted to get your attention, she would go through her list of family names until she found the right one. “shirley…dorthy…jean…ESC!”

Grandma LOOOOOOOOVED flea markets and garage sales. She had no shame at striking a bargain. I would get so embarassed. There would be something for $10, and she would offer them a nickel for it, because “sometimes they say yes!” and she was right - sometimes.

Here’s how my grandparents met: She was best friends with my grandfather’s sister, Mary. She didn’t like him very much, said he was moody and spoiled. She teased him. Then one day his mother got very sick, and he stayed by her bed and took care of her. Grandma saw that, her heart changed, and decided right then and there that she was going to marry him. poor grandpa didn’t stand a chance.

Poor grandpa. I don’t know what he’s going to do. I don’t think he can live by himself. Together, my grandparents made one functioning person: she cooked and told him what to wear, and he organized their medications like a pharmacist. I don’t think he will last very long on his own.

Thanks for being so supportive, everyone. It’s so weird…even though I don’t know any of you, and I feel like I really DO know you? Aimee said that she often goes to call one of us, only to remember that she doesn’t actually know us! I feel like that, too. You have all been so great to me, and you don’t know me, either! hehe…you know too much ABOUT me, but…you know what I mean.

So thanks for all your kind comments and words. I’ll be around a little while longer, I’m leaving saturday for scranton, and I’ll be back tuesday. So I’ll be hanging around in the back of your comments sections, trying to be funny, as usual, for a little while longer at least. I just can’t seem to stay away from blogland

Things I really did today:

Got my oil changed and successfully avoided the dirty creepy old guy in the waiting room by pretending to read the paper.

Did a google search to find out what the name of the large hairy monster muppet was (it was “sweetums”). had discussion about the origins gonzo, and also the “crossover muppets” that did both the muppet show, and sesame street.

Lost my Coke. I was almost done with it, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t throw it away. I must have wandered off with it somewhere, but the lab’s not that big!!! Where’s my coke, dammit! Damn lab gremlins.

Finally got my expensive bath salts I ordered off the internet (company called Vitaglow, or something stupid like that). NY recommended this brand for eczema. They’re dead sea salts “imported in a pure, unprocessed extraction in natural form directly from the southern dead sea in Israel.”
JESUS could have walked on my salt! Cool. That’s why they’re $16 ($21 with shipping), apparently.

Had a 15 minute discussion about weird body hair (other people’s weird body hair! with BM.

Had one good idea about someone else’s project.

Tried my transformation for the third time, with new PEG, new lithium acetate, and fresh plates. If this doesn’t work, I quit.

Spoke with my mom. They’re headed to the hospital tonight to get the results of the tests. They’re testing to see if she has any brain activity left. She’s still in a coma. I’m supposed to start looking for flights to Scranton. For a funeral.

I suppose I should add a #21 to the list of things about me: I handle grief a little weird. With humor. Not that grief is funny, it’s just how I cope. Actually how my whole family copes. So if I have a weird post that starts off a little funny and ends on a sad note, please forgive me.

Kevin had a very nice birthday. The roast and fondue turned out very yummy. And I took plenty of pictures…of the food! for the recipe site.

My mother called me a little while ago to tell me that my grandmother (her mother) was in the hospital. She’s in a coma due to bleeding in her brain, that may or may not have been caused by a fall last week.

They’re putting a stent in to relieve some of the pressure. But we’re supposed to prepare ourselves.

I’m staying hopefull. She’s come through some pretty bad times before: triple bypass, uterine cancer, breast cancer. She’s tough and a fighter.

Please keep her and my family in your thought and prayers.

Today is K’s birthday. OK. It’s Kevin’s birthday. The whole K thing is getting silly. His name is Kevin. Or teddy bear. Or babe. But only I’m allowed to call him those last two.

Today is his birthday, and aside from the gifts that he WON’T be getting today (thank you VERY MUCH ups, and usps!) I’m making him a special dinner.

Cooking is how I express my love for people. It’s a bit of a selfish act, because I love trying out new recipes and tweaking old ones, and I love the satisfaction of having something come together and taste delicious. I love making people happy with the food that I make, and I love the compliments I get from my cooking (hey, I’m only human).

This love for cooking only developed in the past few years, but the seeds were planted very early in childhood. My grandmother bakes up a storm for every holiday. She gives pies and puddings and cakes as gifts. Every time she presses a pound cake into my hands before I leave her house, she is really saying “I love you.”

This also explains why my entire family is overweight.

Since Kevin and I started dating, I have expanded my cooking repertoire considerably. There are many things that are silly to cook for one, but great to cook for two. Also, he eats whatever I put in front of him with gusto, so I can experiment with different ingredients and cooking styles without fear that he’ll turn his nose up at it (I’ve dated picky eaters before. Beatdown with my cast iron grillpan!).

The result of all this is that I have ruined Kevin, culinarily speaking, for anyone else. According to him, his ex wife would only ever make two dishes: soup and sandwiches, and chicken fingers. And she would bitch about having to do it as well. So the fact that he’s now with someone who not only cooks huge and sometimes exotic meals for him, but LOVES doing it as well, has completely blown his mind. I don’t think I ever have to worry about him straying.

Also I’m pretty good in bed.

Kevin is MINE FOREVER! BWAAAHAHAHA!

So his food tastes have changed since we started dating. I’m pretty sure that a “special” meal for him before probably would have just involved steak, or some other basic meat. Maybe with some instant mashed potatoes. Voila – special birthday dinner.

Not anymore. For his birthday, Kevin has requested cheese fondue. I make it with chedder, swiss, and beer and serve it with bread, asparagus, and apples. And for dessert…cake? No. Not cake. Crème brule.

as an aside: you CAN make easy crème brule! There is a MIX from a company called Dean Jacobs. It costs less than $3 and makes 4 servings. You probably have to go to a gourmet food store, though. All you do is add cream and milk and cook it like you would jello pudding! Then pour it into bowls or ramekins and stick in the fridge for a few hours. Swear to GOD it tastes the same as what you get in a restaurant. The mix even comes with a little package of natural sugar that you can sprinkle on top and melt under the broiler or with a torch. GUYS: impress your wives/girlfriends with this! Plus you get to play with fire!

Actually, I think he just wants crème brule so he can play with my kitchen torch. Men!

Also I’m trying a roast beef in the rotisserie. The rotisserie is his new favorite toy, and every time we’re at the grocery store he wants to buy ANOTHER chicken so we can use the rotisserie.

Me: but we JUST HAD it yesterday!!!

Him: so??? We can have it again tomorrow?
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Hooray! The packages finally arrived! The tracking was wrong! Now I just have to sneak out of work a little early and head to the mall. I want to look for something for me to wear…that’s really for his enjoyment. Hehe…

There will probably be pictures, but I won’t be posting them here

Well, Sloth beat me to a dream post. My dream this morning wasn’t nearly as disturbing as hers. Though that may be up to interpretation.

K gets up at the butt crack of dawn, way before I have to. But generally I put the early morning news on so he can get a traffic and weather report. Then I fall back asleep with the TV on. When I wake up again, they today show is on. I watch it for a little while before getting up and getting ready.

This morning, I must have been in a half sleep when the today show came on. I think they were talking about the US olympic men’s swim team. They kept talking about a Michael (Michael Phelps, I suppose). But for some reason my sleep addled brain was processing the name as Michael Moore.

My brain combined “olympic” “swimming” and “michael moore” into a dream consisting of Michael Moore on the US swim team, and how he had to beat George W Bush’s time in the race.

This was accompanied by a visual of Moore in speedos. Yeah, I know. I’ll pause to give you a minute to bleach your brain of that particular mental image.
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In my mind I kept thinking “what is he doing on the team? he’s so fat - he’ll never win!”

(SHUDDER!)

No more late night Thai food dinners for me!!!

(Puppet - how’s that for a band name?)

I started taking the steroids today. A whopping 6 pill dose for the first day. Didn’t take long for those side effect to kick in. My day has gone something like this:

Drink
Pee
Drink
Pee
Drink
Pee

(Drink+Pee)^8

I’ve peed alot. Thus ends the informative body functions part of this blog.

Now begins the stupid science humor that only 1% of you will get: Because our stupid building can’t seem to keep a consistant temperature for more than 20 minutes, I just programmed a PCR machine to hold at 25 degrees C (room temperature).

Excuse me, I have to go pee now.

So I had to go back to the health center for a blood test this morning. I had to fast (bleah), since it was for cholesterol. Not looking forward to these results.

Anyway, I was familiar with the nurse who was going to draw the blood. She is a very nice woman, late 50’s, early 60’s, very tall and on the overweight side. Wedding ring and a big ole’ diamond rock ring. Southern drawl, very polite.

When she came out to get me, I noticed that her normally short hair was now even shorter, and she had gotten some highlights. I was going to compliment her on her new haircut, but then she turned around so I could follow her back to the lab. She had a rat tail.

OMFG! Really? A rat tail? I think rat tails went out of fashion with red neck 12 year old boys at least 5 years ago. I can’t remember the last time I saw someone with one. Yet here she is, my nurse, in all her glory, with a 5 inch rat tail.

It was one of the FEW TIMES in my life I wish I had a camera phone.

Geez!

Why is it that the paper robe that you have to put on when you go in for your fun “yearly” checkup is one size fits all, but the little plastic “belt” is 10 inches long? Who is the brainchild behind that particular torture? As if the exam itself is not uncomfortable enough!!!!

I’m going to design a loose fitting COMFORTABLE robe that women can wear to these appointments. I will make MILLIONS!!!

Also, the Dr. freaked when she saw my skin. ESC will now be taking steriods until I stop looking like a plague victim. INFORM THE OLYMPIC COMMITTEE! ESC IS ON STERIODS!

Damn.

I’m happy to say that the meatball making gene was passed along with my 1/4 italian heritage. mmmmm…homemade meatballs and frozen ravioli for dinner…

It was my first try at making them from scratch.

I don’t really have much else to say, other than: what did you have for dinner? was it homemade meatballs?

Didn’t think so.

BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

(See Janelle, I CAN be evil!)

So I put the “I am amused by” and “I am not amused by” sections on the sidebar there, so I wouldn’t feel compelled to post every funny/maddening thing I came across. not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I post enough already (as jamie pointed out). This way I just paste in the link and let you, my loyal readers, can click at your leisure.

But i don’t think you are taking advantage of this little service I am providing, since I have gotten little feedback about it. And surely “winky winky” thing it worth at least one “haha.”

So if you are not out having a swell time drinking the night away, and are stuck at home watching “american chopper” like me, please click on it. I believe the real name for the flash is “touching things is fun.” Just make sure there are no small children about. And warning, you will be singing the song for the rest of the weekend. I’ve been singing it all week, and getting some strange looks.

other than that…God I wish i had something clever and funny to post, but my brain is fried from a long day at work.

hehe…my favorite word for the “sounds dirty but isn’t list”: duty. Helps if you hear GW say it.

Hehe…DUTY.

What pseudo-dirty words can YOU think of?

And for those of you who said “smootches from ESC? Ew yuck. I would much rather have a picture of sadie!” Here it is. Please ignore the used drier sheet on the floor next to her. Oh, the shame…the shame…

As some of you may or may not know, I work in a genetics lab at a school in Atlanta. I’m not going to say that we’re a lab full of hard core scientists, disregarding everything except our research, but we are a pretty dedicated bunch. And while we don’t work with scary viruses or combustable chemicasl, we’ve got some pretty nasty stuff laying around: chemical mutagens, biological solvents, stuff like that. And bleach. Plenty of bleach.

For that reason, the dress code around the lab is pretty relaxed. You can only spill bleach on your pants so many times before it kicks in that maybe wearing nice clothes isn’t such a good idea. We’re mostly a “jeans and t-shirt” kind of lab. Plus we’re mostly girls. The only guys in our lab are undergrads. There’s just no reason to put on the party clothes and makeup every morning.

About a year ago we moved into a newly renovated lab space. The latest trend in laboratory design is “open.” What that means is that there are no walls separating our lab from the other two labs that moved here with us. It has its advantages and disadvantages.

One of the labs here is the JCL lab. JCL himself is Italian…not Italian like me, but really from Italy. He has stocked his lab with other Italians, one Asian, and a Cuban (sounds like your choices for lunch delivery, doesn’t it?). They are a super friendly bunch, and all the crap I’ve been doing with radioactivity lately would not have been possible without their help (and their stuff!).

Here’s my problem. They…are…GORGEOUS! The italian and cuban girls especially. Oh my god, they come looking like models, hair and makeup perfectly done, and dressed super sexy. Yesterday I was asking Gypsy (the cuban) if they had something, and realized, as she bent over to check if they had what I was looking for, that she was wearing white linen pants…with no underwear! And I’m a boob-girl myself, but she had major booty. and I couldn’t stop staring!

Recently they aquired a guy from Naples, who’ll be here for a few months. This guy is like liquid sex. When I was introduced, I found myself blushing…BLUSHING! like a schoolgirl! (no offense, sloth!) and not being able to look him in the eye! He’s got a euro-fabulous girlfriend that hangs around too, also with models looks. Also she wears sunglasses inside, which is a look few can pull off, I think. Of course, she can.

This is a lab! We’re not supposed to be sexy models, strutting around with no underwear! The occasion thong, yes, but only if we’re planning on torturing our boyfriends later (hehe…drives K crazy when I wear a thong… hehe).

Anyway, I guess I don’t really have a good point here. It’s just been very distracting. Guess I’m not earning a whole lot of sympathy here.

Arrrrgh. Defending online dating, still. That’s fine. It’s not for everyone. It has it’s ups and downs, like any method of meeting people.

So sit down, cheeldren, and I’ll tell you the story of how K and I met. This is the last “ESC’s sad dating past” story I’ll tell, I promise.

Let’s start pretty early on in the game. I had gone on a few dates, but nothing was clicking. Then I started chatting with a guy I’ll call “tom,” because that’s his name. Tom was funny, tall, and smart. He was a writer, but in his former life he had been in microbiology, so he actually understood most of what I said. Wow. Too good to be true?

Yes. Tom was…mormon. Hah. What did I say about dating anyone who’s faith was radically different from mine? Well, I ignored my own rule. He seemed normal, smart, how mormon could he possibly be? OK, he was a 30 year old virgin who had never seen boobs before. So? Not like I had all that much experience!

So we started going out, and all was going great. I began to think…wow…this is someone I could actually see myself with. That wasn’t supposed to happen - I just wanted to date, you know? But I decided to give myself permission to fall for Tom…hard.

Then came the “invite him over and cook him dinner date.” You know, the one where you show off your skills. I made my specialty: chicken parmesean with angel hair pasta. mmmmm…

Everything started off normal…did a little kissin’, had dinner, and then we started talking. Well, he started talking, I listened. He talked about the last girl he dated, how she was mormon, and how he didn’t like dating mormon girls. Then he said that he was reading through the book of mormon the day before (uh oh) and had done some thinking (double uh oh). Here the summary: I was someone he could see himself spending the rest of his life with, but that would mean he would only find happiness on earth with me, since I’m not mormon and we wouldn’t be able to go to mormon heaven. And since he doesn’ t like mormon girls, he’s decided to give up dating all together, so he can go to mormon heaven.

WTF??? On a positive note, I usually win the “best breakup story” contests - I got dumped so that he could go to heaven. In retrospect, I’m greatful. I would have resented any attempt he’d made to convert me. But at the time I was pretty upset. And to make the devastation complete, Mr “I’m not going to date anymore’s” profile was back on yahoo 3 days later. What an asshat.

So I was pretty jaded after that. I switched to Match, and tryed a new pool of guys. From then on, any conversation I had with a guy began with “so, what religion are you?” Had a few dates, nothing clicked. I wasn’t just getting desperate…I was getting HORNY! Tom’s “no sex till marriage” believe meant no lovin’ during our short relationship.
Match didn’t work for me, and I thought about giving it a rest, when I saw a commercial for Lavalife. I decided to set up a profile, but not pay anything, and just see if I get any interest. With Lavalife, you can send “smiles” to someone you’re interested in for free. Perfect. So I sent a couple of smiles out. A guy named Rust (again, ’cause that’s his name) started writing me. Rust was nice, though he’s the one who lied about his height. But he seemed genuinely interested, and he was methodist, so I let it slide. Around that time, I came across a profile of someone called “buffettfan.” His profile seemed interesting, but no pic. Oh well, can’t hurt to send a smile. He wrote back, and we started IMing. His name was K (haha! not going to give away his name…like there’s all that many that begin with K) He was a few signatures away from finalizing a divorce. He’d only been married for a year, and had been separated since the previous september, had dated other people since (so no rebound worries) and he was raised baptist but wasn’t really religious. We had nice chats on IM, and he thought I was funny (very important). But things were going OK with Rust, we’d already gone out once and had a nice time. There was no fireworks, but he was normal and he liked me and I was horny.

K wanted to meet, so I thought what the heck. Things were going well with Rust (REALLY well…hehe) so K would have to make a pretty good impression if it were going to go anywhere. And after all the IM flirting we did, I was curious to meet him. Rust and I hadn’t had the “exclusive” talk, so no harm. So K and I met for dinner at a nearby restaurant. K was…tall (oh my)…broad shoulders (is it hot in here?)…had a deep but soft voice with a southern drawl (definately getting warm)…and was adorably shy (oh…my…). He was a computer geek, but had his share of blue collar gigs, giving him skills in electronics, car repair, and carpentry (….!). Afterwards, I was this close to inviting him back to my place, but was afraid of ruining it (ruining it? but I was seeing Rust…right?). So I kissed him goodnight and felt warm and fuzzy for the rest of the night.

Rust and I had another date, before he left for Japan for two weeks. But my heart wasn’t really in it, and I think he could tell. K and I kept instant messaging (it was our preferred method at that point. we occasionally still IM each other, me from the living room, him from the spare room. isn’t that disgustingly cute?).

Our second date was fabulous wonderful amazing. So much so that…it…uh…lasted two and a half days. Hehe. I’m such a slut
And that’s pretty much it. I broke the news to Rust when he returned from Japan. He was dissapointed, but not overly surprised. I still get the occasional IM from him, fishing for info on whether K and I are still together. Poor guy.

So that’s the story of K and I - we’ve been together ever since. He moved in in december. We’ve discussed marriage, and he’s said he’ll propose “when the time is right.” What a guy answer! (hehe…just kidding, sweetie! love you!)

Any more questions?

My one cleaning accomplishment today:

There used to be nice outdoor carpeting on my balcony. There a unit above me, so the ceiling of my balcony is her deck. Water would run right through. So not long after I moved in, my dad and my brother put up a Fiberglas panel ceiling, with nice cedar trim, designed so that water would run off the front, not down. So I could sit out during thunderstorms (mmmm…nice). But our buildings were recently painted. We were warned that the prep work would involved taking down these Fiberglas panels. What we were not told was that they would THROW THEM AWAY! Fuckers. So my outdoor carpeting got gross and moldy. And everything you see there was, until today, sitting in my sunroom. So today K and I moved it all out and got it cleaned up. Nice, huh? Of course, that’s all we’ve done. I have a clean kitchen, and a clean balcony. Who wants to buy my place?

I’m ready for margaritas!

My new best friends (in no particular order):

AJ
Mike
Sarah
Riz
Aimee
Fleece
Jamie
Inanna
Nord

Hononable mention to Sloth, who kept her comments going all weekend.

did i miss anyone?

Thanks for keeping my weekend not boring

Have I mentioned that my brother is a tattoo artist in pittsburgh? It’s true.

I told him to design one for me. I’m a little scared…

A new feature on “…but mostly rants” is The Shameless Plug.  Scroll down and you’ll see it on my side bar.

The first link is to SaraRed’s new project, RedScience.  This is a site that will hopefully be able to explain science (well, genetics anyway) to the un-scienced.  Red’s done a pretty good job of writing in such a way that you shouldn’t be overwhelmed by the language. 

And, having absolutely NOTHING to do with my plug here, I just happen to have a posting there, too.  I attempted to explain my research in an easy to understand, and unsuccessfully humorous, way. 

Scientists and the discoveries they make tend to be villified by movies, the press, republicans…
I think everyone should have a basic understanding before they go making snap judgements like “stem cell research is bad” and “all cloning should be banned.”  Got news for you - cloning has been going on for much longer than you’d think.  But because you hear the word cloning and think “dolly the sheep” and “human clones will take over the world!”, cloning has gotten a bad wrap. 

Sarah explains things like stem cell research very well.  You should all check it out.

The second plug is a site started by Celti, called Beatdown!  It’s a group effort to fill the void left by People who Deserve a Beatdown, who apparently ran out of people to beat.  If you want to be able to post to beatdown, go to celti’s site and leave your email address.  Together we’ll beatdown the idiots and dumbasses of the world!

 We got a new toy a few weeks ago: a big toaster oven that also has a rotisserie feature. K and I decided to try out the rotisserie feature tonight and make Garlic-Lemon Rotisserie Chicken With Moroccan Spices…mmmm. But the chicken was a little too big and kept rubbing against the drip pan. So we tied it up a little more, then a little more. So here, submitted for your approval…is bondage chicken. 

From fleece, and quite hideously featured on the dastard, I found Portrait illustrator Maker.

Yay!  Enormous waste of time and energy.  See the results on my sidebar.

Oops - think my PCR is done.  Should actually work now…

To prove to you all that science is not all cloning headless babies and cool arc-y pictures, here’s what I did today:

1. fill pipet tip boxes and epe tube containers, autoclave

2. organize the tube rack cabinet, and pull out all obsolete and useless racks that no longer fit any tubes we use. this will make the cabinet less messy and easier to keep neat. this has been bothering me for MONTHS!

3. replace pH meter storage buffer. old stuff was getting grody.

4. put new toothpicks into circulation. for you non-yeast genetics people, we use sterilized toothpicks to manipulate cells from plate to plate, start liquid cultures, streak out strains from the freezer, etc. new toothpicks are usually only useful for the latter two, since they tend to tear up media plates. we reuse toothpicks, and after a while, they develop a nice patina of charred carbon on the ends that makes them soft and allows for easy spreading of cells on plates without gouging. here’s the fun part - toothpicks break, so occasionally we have to put new toothpicks into circulation. we buy standard flat toothpics that have a pointy end and a round end. the round end is the useful end, so we want that end down in the storage beaker so it stays sterile. But the toothpicks out of the box are not all facing the same direction. so you have to pour out a pile, arrange them so they’re all facing the same direction, and then put them in the beaker to be autoclaved. how. exciting. is. my. life?

our lab slave is at summer camp, so this is why these tasks get passed around. i didn’t really have anything to do today, anyway.

Well, it’s finally happened.  K and I are officially “out.” 

I was talking on the phone with my mom, discussed our upcoming trip to pittsburgh, and how the four of us (me, K, my parents) will be going to cedar point for a few days (yay!  cedar point rocks!).  When the following conversation occurred.

me: so when his boss is back from vacation, k will find out if he can get the whole week off

mom: Ok, just let me know.   so….I wanted to ask you…

my heart grows cold…
 
mom: is K living with you now?

oh shit

me: yes, he is

mom: oh

me: well, it was getting stupid.  he was never at his place, he was basically paying rent to store his bed, so…

mom: is he paying his way?

me: yes!  he pays me, mom.

mom: so can I send you less money now?

me: if you feel that you should, I guess.

aside note: I am a graduate student, so I can’t afford to pay mortgage+ on my own, so my condo was a “joint” investment with my parents.  So they send me a chunk of money every month.  sad part: I still have no money at the end of every month.  current balence of checking account right now: $54.  current in savings: savings?  what’s that?

mom: well, I was planning on coming down for a visit in october, but I won’t do that now

me: why not?  it’s not like we’re walking around naked all the time, you can still come!

yes, I said that to my mother

mom: well, the whole point of me visiting would be to spend time with you…

me: and you can still do that with K here.  we can leave him at home on the couch - he won’t care!
 
in fact, he’d probably be happier doing that!

mom: well, we’ll talk about it later.

 
Surreal.  I hope she’s not like this when we’re married.  She’s very weird about K, and has been from the beginning.  Mom and I have always been close.  Maybe she resents that he’s “stealing” me from her.  From our past conversations, i’ve gathered that she feels that she got married too soon (right out of college) and didn’t really have an opportunity to be free and independent.  But I’m 27 and have had 5 years of post-college independence! 

She wants grandchildren, but doesn’t seem to want to go along with the process that will produce them.  Grrrrr!  Parents are frustrating.

Look!  Look!  I can see the arc!!!  My 2d gel worked for the first time!

Best. Data. Ever.

It should look even better next week.

Sometimes…just sometimes…I love what I do!

Annoying!  I was supposed to have lunch with this guy from church today.  As of this fall, I will be the chair of the evangelism and membership team (#1: presbyterians love to form teams and committees, and #2: my team is not “evangelical,” we pretty much have luncheons for visitors and new members, and keep track of who comes on sundays.  Boring!).  JF, a new member to the session, will be my co chair.

So we talked last sunday, agreed to meet for lunch this week to discuss plans for the year, blah blah blah, and decided that friday would be the best day.  I said I’d email him the place, either the snack bar here or Doc Cheys (mmmm…noodles…)  He works near where I go to school, so either one would be convenient.  Well, the snack bar here is closed for rennovations (for TWO weeks now, but no rennovating seems to have taken place!  idiots).  So I emailed him and said Doc Chey’s it is, how does noon sound?  Heard nothing back.  Emailed him again this morning…nothing.  I only have his email address.   He has my email, and my home/cell/work phone numbers! 

I realize that he is in a wheel chair and has trouble getting around.  But HE picked friday, and HE said Doc Cheys worked for him… and I know he has a cell phone! 

grumble grumble inconsiderate so and so grumble

so I had to order out my lunch today, which isn’t so bad, I guess.  I sincerely hope he wasn’t waiting over at doc cheys for me.  I almost called them to ask if a guy in a wheelchair was there waiting for someone, but I didn’t. 

so that’s it.  just a minor annoyance in my day.  looking forward to a nice, relaxing weekend with nothing important to do.  K is taking me to IHOP tonight (we have a coupon) - yay!  ironically, I hate their pancakes, but they’ve got other yummy stuff. 

So yesterday I waited and waited for the radiation guy (who does have a full head of hair, by the way) and he never came.  The lab next door had just gotten in a shipment of the same stuff the day before, and they said I could use their stuff, and that they would use ours next time they needed it.  (this is against the rules, but screw the rules!  living on the edge, sharing radioactivity, baby!) 

So I made my probe, used the new buffer from the JCL lab, got a little over 50% incorporation (kick-ass!) added to the hyb tubes with my blot and left it.  My beautiful blots will be ready tomorrow, yay!

Last night, I dreamt that Martha Stewart was going to start working in our lab, and that I was going to have to work with her.  I was in a panic, because I knew she was going to be difficult to work with.
 
She had me chopping onions for my experiment and kept criticizing me about it.  Nothing I did was right.
 
Then she asked me if I’d boiled my probe.

This was around 3am.  I sat bolt upright in bed.  I didnt’ boil my probe before adding it!!!!

Shit.  See - a probe is supposed to be composed of single stranded DNA (think of a ladder, split in half down the middle).  It doesn’t like this, so it binds to the DNA you have imbedded on a membrane (the blot).  Since it’s radioactive, where ever my DNA of interest is on the blot, that area will become radioactive.  But when you make your probe, it is double stranded (a ladder).  You need to boil it for a minute to break the strands apart, then put in on ice so the strands don’t have time to find their complementary partners and just sort of sick together half-assed, leaving alot of single stranded DNA for your probe.

i didn’t boil/ice my probe.  I am such a dumbass.

I essentially gave my perfect, wonderful, fabulous blots a 65 degree radioactive overnight bath.  Crap.

So in an attempt to save my wonderful blots, I made yet more probe today, BOILED IT, ICED IT, and added it to the mix (accidentally injecting my pipet tip into one of them.  oy!).  Hopefully this will save my experiment.

If not, I’m quitting science and opening up a soup and sandwhich buisness.  Who’s with me???

Mr. Overly friendly radiation delivery guy is late.  He’s usually here before noon.  It’s now…1:37 and HE’S NOT HERE!
 
This wouldn’t be such a big deal, but I have nothing else to do today unless I can make my probe.  So I’m just irritating everyone here by goofing off on the computer.
 
The reason I had to order yet another round 32P dCTP is because I’ve been getting lousy incorporation in my probes.  I have two blots to probe, and these are the good ones.  These are it.  They look good.  If these work, I am DONE with this whole crappy 2D gel buisness. 
 
So I can’t just use any crappy probe with a measly 33% incorporation!  I used to get anywhere from 55-75%!  WTF???  So I’ve decided that instead of cleaning the probe with the qiagen pcr clean kit, I’m going to steal (actually, I asked first, so it’s LEGAL stealing) some buffer PN from the JCL lab, which is for the qiagen nucleotide removal kit.  Hopefully, this will increase my % incorporation, and I can probe these wonderful, beautiful, FABULOUS blots!
 
Oh, and I’m feeling much better today.  Thanks for the well-wishing
 
Also - today has been a banner day for searches that find my blog. Search terms have included: sexerciser, eforcity mailing address, and my personal favorite: squirrels cause chaos.
 
Yay!

I find that the number of compliments I get on my shoes is inversely proportional to the amount of money I spent on them. These are flip flops that I bought at payless for about $12. I got about 8 people complimenting me on them at church today, including our music director. And he’s GAY, so he must know something about fashion, right?  
 
Please ignore the fact that I have hideously ugly feet.  Feet that bear the scars of horror shoes past.  Cute little fashionable strappy shoes that tear into my feet and have me bloody and limping after an hour, walking shoes that felt so comfortable in the store but give me blisters during their first road test.  I have ridiculously sensitive feet.  So I prefer cheap and comfortable to expensive and tortuous (means I can buy more shoes, if they’re cheap!).  Also, I have weird square toes and very little toenails.  Most of what you see painted red there is probably skin, masquerading as fancy red nails. 
 
Alright.  I’m done talking about my feet now.  Really, I had nothing else better to talk about.

Yet another hapless person has found my blog on Google by attempting to search for something scientific.  This time it was “CsCl gradient.” 
 
BWAHAHAHA you will get NO help from me BWAHAHAHAHA!!!
 
Seriously, I feel sorry for you if you found this blog looking for support and words of encouragement for your reserach.  I have none.  I’m entering my 6th year of grad school and feel that graduation is still so far out of reach, so the only pleasure I can take in my work is to make sure that EVERYONE DOING THE SAME THING I AM IS AS MISERABLE AS ME!!!!
 
But if you’re desperate, I use the Zakian Lab protocol for my CsCl gradients and 2D gels.
 
Good luck!

Bit of name dropping here…
 
I’ve been reading a blog called dooce, which I found off of Dr.Dave’s site.  Dooce is a wonderful writer, up on par with Mimi Smartypants, in my humble opinion.
 
Anyway, on her site she mentioned someone called the Barren Britches Brigade.  Intrigued, I followed the link.  It let me to this link  at a blog called Chez Miscarriage. 
 
I am not a mother, or mother to be (thank GOD!), and I’m not even sure if motherhood is in my future.  However I give a resounding “here here!” to the advice CM gave to Dooce (whom she calls Doo-chay).  I’ll copy it here, but you can get the full impact at her site.  Show this to every mother or mother-to-be you know.
 
Dear Doo-chay,
I am writing in order to give you some words of wisdom:
Doo-chay, be suspicious.
Be suspicious of people who condemn every parenting choice you make, people who don’t know anything about you but who nonetheless harbor strong opinions about what’s best for your family, people who are so catty that cats are suing to have the adjective changed. They are the same people who tell infertile women that IVF is “selfish,” that they can’t understand why we don’t “just adopt,” that “some people aren’t meant to be mothers.”
Be suspicious of people who assert that the provision of any structure will irrevocably warp a child’s gentle flowering spirit just as water warps wood, people who claim to be “shocked” or “horrified” by the fact that you did or did not give Baby Doo-chay a Cheerio at six or eight or ten months of age, people who swear that all babies are angels straight from the lap of God and therefore - in the grand calculus of the universe - more valuable than you. They are the same people who tell infertile women that IVF is “unnatural,” that “fertility drugs cause cancer,” that we should all “just relax.”
Be suspicious of histrionic mommy-martyrs who peddle ass-pucking hypocrisy, anyone who prioritizes your child’s need to breastfeed over your need to not feel suicidal, anyone who begins a sentence with, “Now, I don’t know anything about post-partum depression, but.”
In short, Doo-chay, be suspicious of people who claim to love Motherhood but who always seem to hate actual mothers.
You have a right, as a human being, to live a life that feels gratifying and coherent and meaningful. If that means that you must temporarily fill your breasts with so many SSRIs that your bra gets an endorphin rush, so be it. Wean. Take a day off. Have a drink. Go back to work, for all we care. I’ve read the research, Doo-chay, and the research is clear: the single greatest predictor of infant adjustment is maternal mental health. In other words, to put it more scientifically, if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. So do whatever it takes to be happy. You won’t hear a peep from us infertiles.
And if anyone gives you any lip about it, send them over our way. We’re used to telling asshats where to put it.
And if I do say so myself, we’re getting to be damn good at it.
With love, The Barren Bitches Brigade

My cell phone is back - God be Praised!

Let me tell you the harrowing story of my cell phone.

I have an lg5250 flip phone with sprint. I’ve been with sprint for about 3 years now. But K and I have been talking about getting a plan together. My contract runs out in september, so we’ll decide then. A few months ago, my 2 year old cell phone began showing its age. The antenna broke off, and more annoyingly, the battery didn’t hold its charge for as long.

{aside rant}: my parents got a cell phone that they share about two years ago. most of the time it sits on the charger on the desk in the living room. the only time it gets used is when my mom calls me on sundays. when I told my mom my cell phone was dying, she freaked out a little. “our cell phone is as old as yours, ours is OK. you just want a fancier phone!” she keeps bringing that up. I’m not sure why she can’t get it through her head that I USE MY CELL PHONE! I CARRY IT WITH ME EVERY DAY! IT’S GOING TO WEAR OUT QUICKER THAN HERS. and regardless of it’s age or use…THE ANTENNA IS GONE AND THE BATTERY SUCKS!{/aside rant}

I didn’t want to buy a new phone, since I was hoping to get a new plan and a spiffy new phone in september, so I decided to buy a new battery. Sprint will gladly sell me a new battery for the low cost of $50. Since that is a crock of shit, I decided to do what anybody would do when they want to buy something expensive, but not pay retail price.

I looked on ebay.

I found an lg5250 battery for 99 cents - sounds good to me! I bid and won, and like a good ebayer, contacted the seller (iTrimming, aka Eforcity) right away to square off shipping, etc. With shipping, my total was a little over $9 (rip off shipping, but still cheaper than a store). I sent off my check and waited for my battery. After a little over a week, my package arrived. It was the wrong battery (for the lg5350 phone, the color version)

I emailed iTrimming to let them know, and they said put it back into the mail, “return to sender.” (I kept the free “antenna booster” that they sent as compensaton) I started to wonder when they had just mislabeled their ebay ad. Did they really have the right battery? should I find it somewhere else? other ominous signs were the sellers ratings on ebay. Most of the comments were good, but those that were negative complained that eforcity had sent the wrong item, then charged shipping again to send the correct one. crap.

Around this time I had some friends over for dinner. Condensation from someone’s glass dripped on my phone and corroded away the connections on my battery. Now my battery was completely dead. Now it was critical I get the right battery.

I send eforcity an email (keep in mind that I keep replying to the original email I was sent, which contains the name of the item and the item # in the subject line) asking if they carried the battery for the lg5250 phone.

this is what I got in reply:

Dear Customer,
Please give us your name, shipping address, item
number, and the date that you sent the return package.
We will locate the returned product as soon as we
receive the requested information. Please note that
the returned package may take up to 10 business days
to reach us.

Okaaaay, Most of the info is in the subject line of the email, but I sent them the info, and again, asked if they carried the correct battery.
This is what they replied:

Dear Customer,
Unfortunately we still didnt receive the return item but once we
receive it then we can process the exchange.

Trong
Customer Service

First of all, TRONG? and second of all, why aren’t they answering my question? I don’t care if they got the battery back! I just want to know if they carry the right one! I sent them this in reply.

You STILL have not answered my question! I want to know if you carry a
battery for the lg5250. DO YOU HAVE ONE IN STOCK THAT YOU WILL BE ABLE
TO SEND ME WHENEVER YOU RECEIVE THE BATTERY I SENT BACK?
That is my question. Please let me know! Otherwise, I will find one
somewhere else!

Here’s what I got back:
Dear Customer,
Thank you for your interest.
Please look for the other items on our auctions we have on eBay. If
you would like to get more items or to get multiple of the same items,
you would have to bid on more of our auctions within 7 days from the
first auction. Make sure you do bid under the same seller account. There
are no combine shipping with different seller accounts on eBay.

You can combine shipping for the items by going to the latest ending
auction page and click on Checkout Button. It would give you a total and
payment method for your items.

S&H would be $5.99 for first item and $1.99 for each additional item.
Canada S&H would be $7.49 for first item and $3.49 for each additional
item.

Thank you.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

my reply:
Seriously - are you messing with me?

1. did you receive back the item #5702989443, SILVER LITHIUM-ION
BATTERY I sent back

2. do you have the CORRECT batter to send me? ie a battery for the
lg5250 phone that you ADVERTISED, but instead sent me a battery for the
lg5350 phone

THIS WAS YOUR ERROR! Please send me the correct battery!

I decided FUCK THEM and bid on another battery on ebay. $2, plus $4 shipping. Today I sent off the check. What was waiting in my mailbox right 5 minutes after mailing the check to the new guy? The correct battery from eforcity! What was waiting in my email inbox?

Dear Customer,
Please give us your name, shipping address, item
number, and the date that you sent the return package.
We will locate the returned product as soon as we
receive the requested information. Please note that
the returned package may take up to 10 business days
to reach us.

IDIOTS! So now I will have TWO batteries for a phone that I am only keeping until september.

Deep breath….I’m fine

but now I have my cell phone! yay!

moral of story: don’t buy on ebay from a company named iTrimmings or Eforcity.

Another “fire drill” today. Actually, don’t know if it was a drill, or if something tripped the alarm. Once somebody left an autoclave door open, and that was enough.

A universal groan could be heard throughout the building, as scientists were forced to make the decision: “your research or your life.” Most choose research. Everyone in my lab waited until they finished whatever they were doing before gathering purses and leaving. Firemen (and a firewoman) actually showed and went into the building, so I’m going for miscellaneous lab mishap that triggered the alarm. God help us if something ever does happen. Hundreds of lives will be lost. Those of us that leave the building don’t go very far - we all hung out near the entranceway, so that the SECOND we get the all clear we can get back to our work. Didn’t take too long for that to happen.

My agarose hadn’t solidified in the flask when I got back, so I was happy.

Feeling a little better today. Still have the occasional intestinal WTF, so I’m holding off on eating until I get home. I’M STARVING! But eating will just make me nauseous again. Decisions decisions. Want to get out of here so I can go home and at least make oatmeal. But what I REALLY want is pizza. mmmmmmm delicious pizzzzzzzaaaaaaa.

Yeah, I’ve been posting alot of these lately, but I have to keep myself entertained somehow, right?

found on Mistress Matisse’s site (a good BDSM education if you ever need it!):

a very funny animation featuring Kerry and Bush

one of MANY MANY I’m sure will pop up in the coming months

takes a while to load, but well worth it!

Your friend,

NOT PREGNANT sciencechick! hooray!

…am now being cheered up by this commercial

wait for it…

So this seems to be the game of the week. I found it on madville a few weeks ago, and wasn’t very successful at it - didn’t really spend much time with it.

But K’s gone back to blockbuster to exchange “master and commander,” since the dvd we got keeps freezing up on us.

So I’ve got a little time to kill. Sadly, I’ve only gotten him 40M.

Is it me, or does he look a little like Dave Mathews?

Ketchup

I take back everything I said in my last post.

K just gave me multiple orgasms so hard that I cried - twice. That’s only happened two other times.

Oh…my…god…I’m still twitching.

Guys…I would give you advice on how to do this to your women…but I can’t really type so well right now.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

well I guess it worked so well for the pandas…

really, I don’t go out and look for these things. I just stumble across them, i swear!

For those of you not following along…

panda porn
it works

well, it turns out it’s not always so effective after all…poor pandas…

This seems to be the quiz of the week - yet another personality test.

Wackiness: 56/100
Rationality: 46/100
Constructiveness: 64/100
Leadership: 36/100

You are a WECF–Wacky Emotional Constructive Follower. This makes you a candle burning at both ends. You work until you drop, and you play until you can stand to work again. You have so much enthusiasm that you can find it hard to control on your own, and you appreciate the guidance that channels your energy and lets you be your best.

In a relationship, you require lots of attention and support. You often over-contribute and end up feeling depleted and cheated. You may benefit from more time alone than you grant yourself.

Your driving force is the emotional support of others–especially affection. You can run on empty for miles if you have positive energy behind you. Without it–as it occasionally must run dry–you are depressive, listless, and difficult to motivate.

You need a lot of affection. Get it any way you can, but never at the cost of your self-respect or well-being.

not too far off - don’t think i’ve ever worked until I dropped, but the rest is probably true, even if makes me sound a little needy. still not sure how “wacky” fits into it, though.

Blogger is really pissing me off! What the hell is going on? Some people’s blogs will only load after clicking “renew” a hundred times, some will only load if I add a “www” in there, some will only load the title and background and nothing else.
anyone else having this problem?

K and I will be heading over to BFE Alabama tonight to spend the weekend with his family. Actually calling it BFE is pretty generous. What you do is go 30 miles past BFE, make a left, go another 20 miles, and THAT’S where we’re going - outer BFE.

Anyway, won’t be able to post anything until monday, when we get back (his sister and brother-in-law have a computer with an internet connection, but it’s…it’s…dial up! the horror!)

Should be a fun weekend. The brother in law has a four wheeler that K and I can chase Sadie through the woods in. We’re staying with his mom, so chances for lovin’ will be slim. However, if it stops raining for an hour (not looking likely! OK rain! we get it! we’re wet now, thanks! you can stop now! we’re drowing in it! *glug blug glurb*) there a nice isolated spot in the woods by a stream and a waterfall…it’s where the local baptist churches (plural, there a thousand small baptist churches there) baptize people. Won’t they be surprised!

“look ma, nekkid people, and thar doin’ it!!!”

hehe!

So have a great independance day, fellow americans! And the rest of you can piss off!

(just kidding!)

Some people have inspiring dreams. Some people have fun dreams. Some people have vivid nightmares.

I have uncomfortably boring dreams that tend not to end well.

Last night I dreamed I was having dinner at Home Depot, which was owned by my grandmother (hey, it’s my dream). I was sitting with a large group of people at a long table, but I didn’t know anyone else there. Suddenly, I realized I was sitting across from…I wouldn’t call him my ex, exactly (too good a description for him) let’s see… a complete bastard mistake from my past. That’s a pretty good description I tried to avoid him, but he cornered me, and started doing what he did best: calmly and logically, he started bringing me down. He described things that were wrong with me, and that this was why I was acting the way I did, and why I was so unreasonable. I felt myself sinking down, down, and I couldn’t escape.

Next, for some inexplicable reason, I dreamt that a bunch of Hulk action figures (the kind filled with jelly goo, so you can stretch and squeeze them) were coming to life and killing people. I kept telling everyone “there’s just toys! Just don’t buy them, then!” but no one would listen. People kept buying the toys, which would come to life, and then kill them.

OK – first part of my dream is not so weird. I’m sure everyone dreams about those kinds of past mistakes. But the second part? WTF? I never even saw the hulk movie! My only possible explanation is that when I was a kid, I was terrified of the Hulk television show. Every time his eyes would start to turn yellow and glow, I would run screaming from the room. My father found this very funny, and would try to get me to come back. He did this during scary movies, as well. Whenever the music would get ominous, I would leave (come on, I was 5! Cut me some slack). And my dad would say “come back in, the scary part is over!” and of course, it wouldn’t be, and I would walk back in just as the monster/villain was eating/dismembering/stabbing the victim.

No wonder I have crazy dreams and am so messed up! My dad scarred me for life. Not just him. Around the same time (5 yrs old or so) we would go over to my great aunt and uncle’s for a Christmas eve family gathering. My great-uncle, “shark”, was an avid hunter, and one of his prize trophies was a black bear, who’s head was mounted in the family room.

“where’s the rest of the bear?” I asked

“behind the wall, of course!” he said.

Then he’d wink at me, and place an M&M in the bear’s open, snarling mouth.

About an hour later, he would call my attention to the bear again. “look!”

The M&M would be gone!!!

Obviously, the bear had come to life and eaten the M&M, and it was only a matter of time before he woke up again and ate me, too!

I was a troubled child.

The things your family does that screw you up, huh?

I am cheered up considerably by Todd Vodka’s description of riding a jet ski

Before you read it, make sure you have a change of underwear handy, as you will surely pee yourself laughing.

And if you hang them in your front window, they make lovely suncatchers. added bonus: they keep jehovas witnesses away!

Is it me, or is blogger acting weird today? An occasional “www” keeps getting inserted into some blog’s addresses, and blogger isn’t recognizing it. Pain in the ass! Haloscan is acting sketchy, too. IS NOTHING RELIABLE ANYMORE???

K just called for my SSN. Now that he’s getting health insurance (yay!) he’s going to try to get me on his dental plan. That would be nice - I haven’t been to a dentist since moving to ATL in 1999. Yeah yeah, gross I know. But my teeth seem to be in pretty good shape, I think I’ll probably go to a dentist and have, like 10 cavities. I floss, I brush, I…swish with fluoride. But it never seems to help. Poor genetics, I think.

Anyone know where my post heading comes from? I’ll call it the “quiz of the day?

My cell phone was a casualty of Saturday night. I left it on an end table, and someone put their glass down next to it. Condensation formed a puddle, which did something very bad to the battery. My phone won’t turn on, and when I put it on the charger, the red light just blinks at me. Not good. I bought another battery on eBay a few weeks ago, since my battery was on its last legs anyway, but they sent me the wrong one. It may be a week or two before I get the right one, that is, if they even have the right one.

My cell phone is 2 1/2 years old. The antenna broke off a few months ago, and the battery was dying. I couldn’t afford a new one without renewing my contract with sprint, and I didn’t want to do that because K and I want to get a plan together when my contract is up in sept.

I am without cell phone. I feel like I’ve lost a limb. It’s stupid, because I don’t really use it that much. I make long distance calls to friends and family, mostly on the weekend. I call K from the store (”what else did we need besides milk?”). A few friends who refuse to remember my home number call me on it. That’s about it. But I still feel a strange void. That familiar weight in my pocket is gone. The comfort of knowing that I can call someone no matter where I am, and that someone can call me anytime, is gone.

To top it off, I’m having a bad Monday. I’m sad and I need a hug!!!

I feel like such a name dropper with the number of blog link I have on the side column! I’ve tried to link everyone who either regularly make comments on my blog, or, in the case of flyerman, who have put a link to mine on their. (way to go flyerman, according to blogpatrol, your blog is in the lead for most number of hits to my page. blogpatrol is so informative! not that it’s a contest, or anything) My apologies if I’ve missed anyone!

still frantically cleaning my place in preparation for get-together tomorrow night. Like I mentioned before, I love being the hostess. But the real reason I invite people over is to force me to clean my place really well, at least once every couple months. I am not a neat person by nature. Neither is K. Together, we are a disaster. I cleaned the bathroom yesterday. I will wake up screaming in horror for nights to come at the memory of what I saw in there. *shudder*

And in my nice clean bathroom today, I decided to give sadie a bath. She is part lab, and while I know labs continually shed all year, she has been in a major molt for months now. Way beyond her usual spring shed. I cleaned enough hair out of the drain screen to make several more mammals. Yet she never goes bald. Strange.

Well, it’s bedtime. K just went in to lay down, making sure to announce it to me. Hehehe. We’ve got work to do!

Yeah, I’m just not feeling very creative today, so that’s why I’m just posting links to other interesting sites.

After working all day, I am not looking forward to going home and cleaning. Some friends are coming over on saturday, and the condo is a MESS! Especially the bathroom. Usually I make guest use the spare room bathroom, which is usually clean, since I don’t use it much. But since K’s moved in, all his computer crap…I mean useful and interesting stuff…is piled up in there. So cleaning my own bathroom it is. Am looking forward to using my favorite little cleaning device again, though!

I like hosting parties and get togethers…I just wish someone else would do the cleaning! Plus K will try to distract me with sex and kisses…he hates cleaning even more than I do, the bugger. Mmmmmmm…may give in, though.

“welcome guests. please excuse the mess - I didn’t clean, but boy am I tired!”

Your Honor? Are you listening to me? Are you sweating?

mmmmmm…so hungry!

Last night we had the best burgers. I asked K to bring home some cheese to make cheeseburgers - he bought brie!

So I mixed garlic powder, onion powder, salt, pepper, and a bottled quick marinade (think it’s mostly worchestershire sauce and salt) in with the ground beef, and wrapped the mixture around blobs of brie to make the patties. While they were grilling, I sauteed vidalia onions and baby portobellos with some cut up bacon, to put on top of the burgers. The brie inside the patties got all melty and oozy…

No condiments neccessary. K announced that it was better than any burger he’d had in a restaurant. They were goooooood…and sooooooooooo fattening! Not for the faint of heart or the diet conscious.

Oh well. We’ll be good for dinner tonight - something healthy.

Are ya hungry yet?

The definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over again, and expecting a different results each time. This can also be the definition of the project I’m working on right now, which leads me to wonder…

AM I FUCKING INSANE????

I keep doing these 2D gels over and over again, and no matter how careful I am, something goes horribly wrong, and the whole week is wasted. A whole week. Usually, screwing something up means a loss of a day or two, tops. But since this protocol is so long and complicated, a screw up means either 1. I’ll be in the lab all weekend, or 2. wait till monday to start all over, and face the wrath of SJR (advisor/boss). Fortunately, the one I started yesterday is still looking good. Got two bright smears on my first dimension gel. Keeping my fingers crossed!

And I’m supposed to be finishing up my old project (which I think I may be done with, for now, yay!) and concentrating on my new project, which I CAN’T do because she also wants an answer on this 2D gel stuff ASAP.

I’m being pulled in so many directions I think I’m going to snap. My answer? Maybe I’ll post something on my blog for a while…

Such a glorious way to waste time

It’s raining and storming…

I’m bored and the only people who are updating their blogs are the married guys who have blogs to vent about not getting laid. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! I feel for you guys, I really do! I make mental notes to myself every time I read theirs posts - “ok, when I’m married, don’t be like his wife…must still like sex…got it!” I wish I could give them better advice!

(props to: the good husband, suburban sex blog, and Memoirs of a Married Mad Man . I’m pulling for all of you!)

Where was I? Oh yeah…

It’s just that it’s a bit of a depressing read on a monday. I need something funny to get this day going…drdave’s bug story is only funny for so long
Got a little something something myself last night (if you couldn’t tell by my last entry). Something weird happened to my blog where it was only showing the heading and the two pie pics, and that’s it. Once I republished, though, it all went back to normal. Stupid blogger.

Ew ewwwww EEEEWWWWW!

There was a girl (from australia, I think) who used to have a very funny blog, where she would, occasionally, scan food items that she had prepared and post them. That blog is gone, but I always thought it was a cool idea. Here are the before and after pictures of the blackberry pie I made today :) 

On my own today. K has to work one day every weekend this month, since it’s the end of the quarter. I should spend the day straightening up. We’ve got a little get together next saturday, with two other couples coming over for “game night” (basically, just an excuse to eat and drink too much, and attempt to play “cranium” and make fun of other peoples drunken humming ability)

Happy father’s day to all the dads that wander past this site. Thinking about picking K up a card “from the dog,” but he’d probably fail to see the humor in that. I need to call my dad this afternoon. Hopefully, he got his gift (a certificate for a flying lesson!) on time. I’m notoriously bad for getting presents and cards out late, so most of my friends and family are pretty used to getting them the day after.

Well, gonna be late for church. It our 121st anniversary, so there’re having some big shindig, with a potluck (I didn’t make anything…oops! Maybe I’ll pick up some chicken at publix, if I need to).

Obviously, K and I have much work to do, here. 62.5%???? That’s pathetic. We need to get more adventerous. Some things on my to do list:
1. sex in the ocean
2. sex on the beach (the act, not the fruity drink)
3. sex in a public place
4. video tape us having sex…

And that’s all I can think of right now.

Some of the stuff in this test is just…gross. Sorry, but I’m leaving my dog OUT of my sex life!

Here’s something funny. My blog stats tell me if someone pull up my blog from a google search, and also tells me what the search term they used was. This has happened twice since I started using this particular stat tracker. The first google search term was “CsCl gradient,” which is not so suprising, since I rant about my work all the time.

Today, someone did a search for (and I am NOT making this up!) “viscious lesbianism” and found my blog. Don’t believe me? Do a google search with “viscious lesbianism” and “evilsciencechick.”

Fun, huh?

My Myers-Briggs-Jung Test Results

Who knew panda porn could be so effective?

rate my logo!

In other news, when I went to the pharmacy this morning to get a refill of a rather critical and time sensitive prescription, their computer was down. Don’t they know that I ALWAYS wait until the last second, and that I’m relying on them to fill my presciption! No matter what!!!

Aren’t computers supposed to make our lives easier???? Oh, wait…I’ve ranted about that before…

So I went to work without it, and K is supposed to pick it up on his way home from work, since I have choir practice tonight.

Also, the pharmacist was a SUBSTITUTE! So I actually had to give her my name and birthdate, etc. Traumatic! Where’s the regular pharmacist? The one who knows me? When all I have to say is “the nasonex and the generic allesse” and come back after 15 minutes and it’s all ready for me.

Then again, I worry about one person knowing that much about me. Ever wonder what kind of power pharmacists have? They pretty much know your medical history, yet don’t seem to be bound by any doctor/patient confidentiality. Scary.

1. Blogs are stupid. Only people who think others care about their opinions have blogs. What a waste of time.

2. I’ll start a blog, but ONLY because I’ve been trying to start a journal and haven’t been able to find the time to write and this way I can do it anywhere. But I’m only doing this for ME. I’m not reading other people’s blogs, nor do I care if they read mine. This is strictly for ME ONLY.

3. I’m bored. Maybe I’ll read someone else’s blog.

4. Hey…comments!

5. How can I get comments on my blog?

6. Oh, haloscan…but the ONLY reason I would put a comment link on my blog is JUST IN CASE someone happens to stumble across it and wants to leave a note. I don’t care one way or the other.

7. Why don’t I have any comments?

8. No one likes my blog (not that it matters…right?)

9. Hey…a comment! Someone left a comment! I am funny and popular!

10. Any more comments? No.

11. Any more comments? No

12. …No.

13. Maybe I’ll leave comments on someone else’s blog…

14. Any more comments? No

15. Hey, another comment! I am popular again!

16. I’ll add links to the blogs I like and to those that leave comments on my blog.

17. I’m really annoyed that other people don’t update their blogs. Don’t they realize that my sole entertainment for the day is reading their blogs?

18. That’s a weird news article, I think I’ll link that in my blog. Hey look, a “what medieval torture device are you?” quiz! I’ll put that in there, too.

19. I’m such a blogger.

Ever meet someone who was a little too friendly? Who got a little too interested in personal conversation a little quicker than normal? The radioactivity delivery guy here is like that. Two weeks ago, I ordered some 32P for the very first time. The guy from Radiation Safety came to deliver it, and immediately struck up a conversation with me like we’re old friends.

“so what are you doing this weekend? Any fun plans? What else are you doing?” Etc, etc.

And not in an I-don’t-really-care-what-the-answer-is-I’m-just-making-small-talk kind of way. Like those short conversations with the UPS guy. You know, they go something like this “sign here, please” “OK. So is it still raining?” “just a little. Thanks, have a good night” “you too” That’s it. And that’s after having the SAME UPS guy for 5 YEARS!!!

Not so with radiation delivery guy. He’s Mr. Overly Friendly. He starts converstions in a forcefull and really interested kind of way. He did the same thing today. It’s not creepy, or anything, it’s just weird. Is he hitting on me? Nobody hits on me! Maybe he’s just really friendly but really really bad at small talk. I don’t know. I think I’ll ask around to see if he’s that way with everyone.

Let us sing the praises of air conditioning. In Pgh, we had air conditioning, but we used it sparingly, only for those hot days of late july and august. Most of the time the numerous oak trees that surrounded the house provided us with shade and coolness from the relatively mild yankee summer.

Not so here in the “saath” (proper pronunciation). Air conditioning is not a luxury. It is a NECESSITY!

Don’t get me wrong, I hold off for as long as possible. I love having the windows open, especially at night, feeling the summer breezes on bare skin…

But there comes a time when the hot, sticky Atlanta summer takes full effect. When the humidity is close to 100% and the temperature is in the 90’s during the day, and not a whole lot cooler at night. And you can feel the heat and moisture in your lungs.

Cuddling is severely impaired by this heat. It’s just too sticky. I love cuddling, so when it gets too sticky, I throw in the towel. It’s time.

Also, a good indication that it’s time to crank up the ole’s AC is, being a homeowner, when it breaks. Never fails. It works fine for those occasional too hot days of late spring and early summer. But when the 7 day forecast predicts 7 days of 90 degrees, and I reach over to the thermostat to click it on “cool”…nothin’.

The AC broke on thursday. K announced it as soon as I walked in the door. “I’ll call the repair guys” I said. “no, let me take a look at it.” “have you ever fixed an air conditioner before?” “no, but I’ll figure it out.”

K is a handy guy. It took him two days, but he figured it out. It wasn’t the ac, it was some corroded wires that gave power to the ac.

Best. Boyfriend. Ever! He fixes computers, cars, and (now)air conditioners

AHHHHHHHH…so cool….

So I was browing my favorite blogs today, bored (as usual) and I came upon something interesting. It was on Sassy’s blog (free advertising!). There’s a link on her site called “swag” and I thought..”huh”…so I clicked on it. This took me to a site called cafepress.com, which is a company that will, FOR FREE, make stuff featuring your logo/website/picture/whatever, and sell it! You can make money doing this!

How cool is that? Hmmmmm…evilsciencechick t-shirts? Wish I had a cool catchphrase…like…”get your Panda Porn here!” And a catchy logo…

Who would buy them? No one. But I could say “yeah, I’ve got my own line of clothing out, no big deal.”

I must start doodling! What a cool way to waste time!

Found this in a yahoo news story about pandas:

“Pandas are also notoriously difficult breeders and Chinese scientists have tried nearly everything to increase the population in captivity, including showing films of other pandas mating.”

Films of other pandas mating? Isn’t that “panda porn”????? They’re showing them panda porn to get them in a mating mood???

Oh those wacky chinese scientists.

And what sicko is out there FILMING panda mating?

I’m posting this story because K kept telling me I should. Falls under naughty more than ranting (must be reading too many of the sex blogs, it’s affecting mine!)

A few days ago, K and I were…making love? Doing the nasty? Bumping uglies? There’s no good way to say “having sex” without sounding cheesy or dirty. After we finished, he did what he usually does, and makes sure that I’m as finished as he is (he’s just the best bf ever!) And a good job of it he did, too! Afterwards, exhausted and in that post-coital pleasure haze, I stumbled into the bathroom. K was sitting on the side of the bed, clearing his sinuses (allergies), which he does by spitting…loudly. I used to tease him about this, because it’s quite gross when he makes that “kkkkwwwwwaaaachkt” noise. Usually I say something to the tune of “oooh baby, do it again, that turns me on!” Or something equally sarcastic. But now I barely even notice when he does it, and at this particular moment, with every nerve in my body tingling, I was in no condition to notice it.

Instead, I mumbled something to the tune of “oh baby…that was WONDERFUL!” K muttered something back, but the fan was on so it was hard to hear him, and he couldn’t POSSIBLY have said what I thought he just said.

“what?”

“I don’t do it because I WANT to, I do it because I HAVE to.”

“…WHAAAAATTTT?????”

“I SAID…I don’t do it because I WANT to, I do it because I HAVE to!”

He couldn’t possibly have meant that, but there was no sarcasm in his voice. I walked back into the bedroom to confront him.

“I’m talking about the orgasm you just gave me.”

“Oh, I thought you were making fun of my spitting.”

At which point we both fell down laughing because it was such a beautiful and hysterical misunderstanding.

Now whenever we start to fool around, he makes the joke “I’m not doing this because I WANT to…”

I know that SOMEBODY out there is reading my blog, because I do get occasional (very occasional) comments. Please please please put a pin in my guest map! It’s right over there -> below the counter. It’ll only take a minute…

Thanks!
- Desperately seeking popularity
(ie: evilsciencechick)

Never been so glad it’s sunday! Busy busy weekend. EA’s wedding (now officially ES)was this weekend. We had to go to the rehearsal and dinner on friday, since I was doing a reading at the ceremony (Ruth 1:16-17). It was a lot of sitting around, really. There were three of us sitting in the choir loft waiting for our turn, while the rest of the wedding party found out where they were standing, when the candles were going to be lit, etc etc. We were bored out of our skulls, so the three of us just whispered and laughed through the whole rehearsal, earning dagger eyes from psycho MOTB (who just a few weeks ago, told EA that this was HER DAY and E had NO SAY IN THE MATTER!!! Like I said…PSYCHO!)

Saturday was the wedding, and it was appropriately beautiful. Even I got a little teary eyed when they read their personal vows to each other.

The reception had good food, thank GOD (weddings in the south tend to be light on the food…WHY????) E and M walked to the bed and breakfast next door in a cloud of bubbles. K and I were exhausted by the end of it.

Now I’m just happy to kick back and relax - IM DONE WITH WEDDINGS FOR THE SUMMER!!! Now, of course, my friends have nothing better to do than pester K and I about when we’ll get married. Sigh. K did confess to me last night that he’s looking forward to marrying me, which is good. The scars of his ex and their disasterous marriage must be fading.

But for now…I’m relaaaaaxxxxing.

K is at MS’s bachelor party tonight. He’s pissed it’s on a thursday night - stupid night for a bachelor party.

So I’m on my own. Lying on the couch and VEEEERRRY relaxed, compliments of gorillalinks.com and a few of my fingers…a lonley girl has to keep herself entertained somehow, doesn’t she?
I’ll stop there, lest this becomes one of those infamous sex blogs (of which there seem to be many).

Busy weekend ahead. E and M’s rehearsal and dinner tomorrow, then the big event on saturday. Then we all get a few months off before the baby showers begin in earnest. Damn my super-fertile friends! Think I’ll double my dosage of the pill…

K just called - he many not even make it home tonight. I’d rather him crash at a friends then drive home drunk. Especially since they’re up at BFE Kennessaw. I worry, though. Worry worry worry. That small voice of paranoia that lives deep inside me that bubbles up whenever someone I care about is in an unknown situation.

I know where it comes from. As far as I’ve come in recovery after the death of my brother, effects linger, and always will. That voice that whispers “it happened once, it can happen again” has been especially active since meeting K. The one black mark on the absolute joy of our relationship is that crippling fear that I will lose him tragically, in an accident or an illness - like my brother. I’ve become quite good at pushing those thoughts and feelings deep down and suppressing those fears. Until, of course, K goes drinking with the guys (most of whom I trust, one who I don’t) in BFE, then calls and says he might not be home tonight…

Worry worry worry.

Have you ever walked down a hallway and you’re all alone, and you have to burp, so you do (because you’re alone, right?) but then you turn a corner and there’s someone coming around the corner towards you, and you know that they either HEARD you burp, or they’re just catching that “post-burp” weird expression on your face, and they give you a look like “what the hell is your problem?”

I hate that.