If you go to christmas dinner, and seven people are attending said dinner, and the spread on the table includes filet mignon, turkey, ham, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, green beans, cranberries, homemade rolls, triple chocolate cupcakes, homemade blueberry cheesecake, homemade apple pie and ice cream, 6 different assortments of cookies, crackers and cheese, fruit, vegetables and dip, five pounds of shrimp and cocktail sauce....
For the love of god...one bite of everything honestly. Because, really, there is no way in hell you can cram in the necessary four pounds of sweet potato casserole with all that other noise distracting your belly from the annual requisite sweet potato casserole stuff fest. It is absolutely acceptable to fork-stab incoming hands for the casserole dish you have annexed. If necessary, retire to your bedroom with the casserole dish and serving spoon, sit on your bedroom floor indian style - and bonus points if you can fit the entire serving spoon in your mouth. its christmas. you deserve it.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
free advice part 4
how to enjoy christmas eve in two easy steps.
1) eat a xanax
2) slouch on the sofa and stare at the most beautiful christmas tree you have ever laid your eyes on. This would be whilst simultaneously shrugging away any minor worry that tries to soil the most phenonmonally blase experience you have ever been so intensly blase excited to be blase.
optional 3) dab the drool that pools at the corners of your mouth.
1) eat a xanax
2) slouch on the sofa and stare at the most beautiful christmas tree you have ever laid your eyes on. This would be whilst simultaneously shrugging away any minor worry that tries to soil the most phenonmonally blase experience you have ever been so intensly blase excited to be blase.
optional 3) dab the drool that pools at the corners of your mouth.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
bob
Pulling marathon shifts at the scope does less then wonders for my already delirious mind state induced by marathon sleepless nights. However, sitting in a dark, smelly, cramped, cold room has its advantageous, because the core facility is run by the one and only, Bob the superhero. Don't believe he is a superhero? Tough. You know why he is a superhero? Because he makes fresh bread daily in the lab, and then, he not only allows, but encourages me, to sit at his cozy table and chat whilst eating a meager 57 slices of his delicious, buttery, soft, warm, fresh baked creation. Today Bob the superhero also had a mocha cheesecake. What is even more delicious then fresh baked bread? Eating it while you work, beats the eff out of that whole whistle nonsense. That's right, Bob the superhero lets me eat at the scope.
Bob the superhero also has a nice microscope collection. That is to say, these microscopes are probably worth more combined then the entire population of the eastern coast of the united states of america. Adjusting the stage, focus, and imaging 13 slices of my cells with only a few clicks of my mouse while shining no less then 100 different wavelengths of light on my sample at my pleasure is almost more sweetness then I can handle. The only thing this scope is not capable of, is marriage, otherwise, I would be in Vegas instead of blogging.
So, while eating bread, and scoping, and eating bread.
I determined why exactly they have two monitors to display the contents of one scope. Hah! This is why I am a grad student. Take notes people.
Thank god I can simultaneously read post secret, the superficial, peruse craigslist, keep tabs on my mail AND facebook while scoring endless macrophages. Bob the superhero is the coolest core facility manager ever. honestly. Thank you super hero Bob, for turning what would have been a mundane crappy day into a carb filled entertaining delight!
Sunday, December 7, 2008
-fin-
I am freezing, exhausted, and starving. I have not eaten since breakfast (it is 8pm), I am wearing flip flops (it is in the 30's), and I did not sleep last night (nor did I two nights ago - cumulative muck effect). I am also sitting in a lab with nothing to entertain me but a computer - and as it turns out you schleps are dead on facebook right now which means I have almost no entertainment at all.
But, despite falling apart at the seams, I am overly elated because I have just completed my *last* take home of the semester.
That's right. My take home final rests in completion beside me, all warm and toasty from being freshly printed, and ready to turn in tomorrow at 10 a.m.
I just wanted you to know that, even though it may look like I have bags the size of Croatia under my eyes, and my hair is unwashed, and I am more slouched in my chair then is humanily possible, and my eyes are glazed over, and my mouth is agape, you should and may consider being extraordinarily jealous. Because I am finished. and it was hard. and I almost died approximately 42 times this semester to get here. and I climbed over the metaphorical equivalent of 238 mountains to be at this point. right now. about to pick up a subsidiary dinner from the Teeter, where I will walk amongst the regular folk, who will have no idea how exactly special, this fucking moment is.
But, despite falling apart at the seams, I am overly elated because I have just completed my *last* take home of the semester.
That's right. My take home final rests in completion beside me, all warm and toasty from being freshly printed, and ready to turn in tomorrow at 10 a.m.
I just wanted you to know that, even though it may look like I have bags the size of Croatia under my eyes, and my hair is unwashed, and I am more slouched in my chair then is humanily possible, and my eyes are glazed over, and my mouth is agape, you should and may consider being extraordinarily jealous. Because I am finished. and it was hard. and I almost died approximately 42 times this semester to get here. and I climbed over the metaphorical equivalent of 238 mountains to be at this point. right now. about to pick up a subsidiary dinner from the Teeter, where I will walk amongst the regular folk, who will have no idea how exactly special, this fucking moment is.
Monday, December 1, 2008
free advice part two
If you want to pour grape nuts into your uneaten yogurt, only seven will fit into the container, and approximately 926 will fit on your counter.
So, before just pouring away to your hearts content minding little else then the cats at your ankle, do yourself a giant favor and eat a bite of yogurt first, or get a bowl - if you're the type that keeps clean bowls around. Then find me and thank me, I will be in the kitchen looking at Becky and shrugging innocently at the elusive grape nut mountain. That is all.
So, before just pouring away to your hearts content minding little else then the cats at your ankle, do yourself a giant favor and eat a bite of yogurt first, or get a bowl - if you're the type that keeps clean bowls around. Then find me and thank me, I will be in the kitchen looking at Becky and shrugging innocently at the elusive grape nut mountain. That is all.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
phlebotomy gone bad
This looked way more impressive yesterday, however, I wasn't struggling to finish a take home yesterday, therefore no procrastination was necessary.
Thanks lady, for practicing your cross-stitching skills in my veins.
Monday, November 10, 2008
sabrina <3
"it's been an interesting few weeks. how's shit by you? tell me all about why you hate everyone and i will agree that they are all wrong and you're infallible. then i will describe in great detail how i might tie down their moms with barbed wire and piss on them, and then light them on fire. would that help? rest assured, i will find their moms. nobody's safe from my yellow stream of justice.
xoxo
sabs"
CRAP sabrina, you should move to NC. now i said. =(
xoxo
sabs"
CRAP sabrina, you should move to NC. now i said. =(
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
faux eclecticism
At the end of yesterday I was impressed with the social gamut I managed to cover in a mere 12 hours- but then, as my hand was in the process of reaching for my back in pursuit of a firm well-deserved pat - I put my feet back on the ground and realized this spectrum of avocations I felt so inclined to be proud of, were meagerly deserved at best.
pothead: went to a head shop - spent an hour in a heady discussion with the store clerk on the pros and cons of bubblers, bowls, vaporizers and the different strata of pothead that utilizes such paraphernalia. Then purchased a bubbler for a friend's birthday.
meathead: proceeded to GNC - spent some time talking with the store clerk on the pros and cons of various protein and energy supplements, talked extensively about cycling and lifting. Then I purchased a protein blend I'm just okay on, since my standard was not in stock.
political enthusiast: voted - spoke to no one, purchased nothing, received a coupon for a free coffee at my local bakery. felt particularly empowered and proud for being a good American. went to a party celebrating the election.
altruist to the homeless: while passing a gaunt aged man on the street, huddled in an alcove, was asked for any spare change. I paused to give him every last coin I could procure out of my purse (a 3 minute search at best) - and also I gave him a clove for good measure.
scientist: went to lab - Discussed at length the pros and cons of various substrates employed im my (desperate) desire to make things work. Purchased HPTS (8-hydroxypyrene-1,3,6-trisulfonic acid), a pH dependent flourophore for my very own pet project that I am building from the ground up.
The punch line:
pothead: I don't smoke pot, haven't purchased a piece in ages, tried my best to regurgitate phrases I haven't used in years.
meathead: I know a limited amount of anything dealing with supplements, but this guy seemed impressed I was aware of the basics so our conversation was mostly over my head. I tried my best to regurgitate phrases I may or may not have heard other exercise savvy friends toss about.
political enthusiast: I voted. the end. I normally hate politics and avoid them thusly, this year was an obvious exception. after 3 hours of sleep that coffee saved my life.
altruist to the homeless:I never give bums money, donating to shelters maybe, rarely will I give hobos a sideways glance. But, seeing as I veritably lied my ass off to some kind old attendant when parking in a lot - where UNC affiliates are absolutely not allowed to park - I needed karma on my side. I left the lot ticket free.
scientist: who has two thumbs and knows her lab shit? this girl right here.
pothead: went to a head shop - spent an hour in a heady discussion with the store clerk on the pros and cons of bubblers, bowls, vaporizers and the different strata of pothead that utilizes such paraphernalia. Then purchased a bubbler for a friend's birthday.
meathead: proceeded to GNC - spent some time talking with the store clerk on the pros and cons of various protein and energy supplements, talked extensively about cycling and lifting. Then I purchased a protein blend I'm just okay on, since my standard was not in stock.
political enthusiast: voted - spoke to no one, purchased nothing, received a coupon for a free coffee at my local bakery. felt particularly empowered and proud for being a good American. went to a party celebrating the election.
altruist to the homeless: while passing a gaunt aged man on the street, huddled in an alcove, was asked for any spare change. I paused to give him every last coin I could procure out of my purse (a 3 minute search at best) - and also I gave him a clove for good measure.
scientist: went to lab - Discussed at length the pros and cons of various substrates employed im my (desperate) desire to make things work. Purchased HPTS (8-hydroxypyrene-1,3,6-trisulfonic acid), a pH dependent flourophore for my very own pet project that I am building from the ground up.
The punch line:
pothead: I don't smoke pot, haven't purchased a piece in ages, tried my best to regurgitate phrases I haven't used in years.
meathead: I know a limited amount of anything dealing with supplements, but this guy seemed impressed I was aware of the basics so our conversation was mostly over my head. I tried my best to regurgitate phrases I may or may not have heard other exercise savvy friends toss about.
political enthusiast: I voted. the end. I normally hate politics and avoid them thusly, this year was an obvious exception. after 3 hours of sleep that coffee saved my life.
altruist to the homeless:I never give bums money, donating to shelters maybe, rarely will I give hobos a sideways glance. But, seeing as I veritably lied my ass off to some kind old attendant when parking in a lot - where UNC affiliates are absolutely not allowed to park - I needed karma on my side. I left the lot ticket free.
scientist: who has two thumbs and knows her lab shit? this girl right here.
Monday, November 3, 2008
advisement
If you happen to accidentally scare the everloving piss out of me - and subsequently you decide its a good idea to laugh at me, and hard I might add - because I did a little dance in place, and maybe I screamed, just a little bit....
well, you should probably consider running, at full speed, in the opposite direction
because that shit was decidedly the most un-funny thing that has ever happened to me in my life.
well, you should probably consider running, at full speed, in the opposite direction
because that shit was decidedly the most un-funny thing that has ever happened to me in my life.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
seperation anxiety
It was any other glorious day with my phone, running through fields of daffodils, constructing decoupage photo albums as we waited for our bunt cake to finish, and then retiring to the porch to share lemonade and tales of our childhood. While perusing facebook snuggled up in our favorite rocker, our most cherished pastime I might add, my little phone,
my
dear
poor
little
phone
passed away
in my hands
dear
poor
little
phone
passed away
in my hands
clutching my hair in my fists and screaming enraged to the heavens - I demanded God to tell me why he would take my phone at such a young and tender age. Why now!? WHY HALLOWEEN NIGHT OF ALL TIMES GOD. I worked hard to resuscitate my little love, but there was no hope, all I really had left to do was call T-mobile to handle the remains and begin the process of moving on. So many times between the passing away of my phone and now I have gone to snap an impromptu picture, jot a quick text, check facebook - all which unmercifully rips the scab off of my battered and broken heart upon recalling there *is* no phone to speak of, anymore.
I stopped at the T-mobile store today to purchase the cheapest replacement phone to tide me over until a proper replica of my old phone was delivered to me. My replacement and thank god temporary new phone will never ever fill the shoes of that which was all dear and sacred to me.
The customer service department at T-mobile handled my delicate situation with the utmost gentle and respectful nature. I was told I would have a new phone free of charge shipped to me in the next seven business days (7 days way to fucking long with the aforementioned replacement phone from hell). I was instructed to gut the contents of my phone in preparation for returning its now silent and still body to phone heaven, where it will undoubtedly rest in peace forever.
The gutting however, lead to the pleasing discovery of the cutest little 1 gig card ever!
There is only one thing really I can do now, (who can possibly complete a take home test in stressful times like these I ask?) is put on Sarah Mclaughlin and reflect on our fulfilling and harmonious relationship. Recalling the euphonious chortling of incoming texts, the patience of learning T9 together, my phone was the best little mp3 player ever, and I'll never forget our sneaky voyeuristic endeavors with my favorite little camera. Yes, my phone did it all. I will be preparing a eulogy and candle lit services for later. If you can't make it, at the least, please send me your phone number - as my phone took these memories to the beyond.
I willlll remember yoooouu
*tear
*tear
[(in)sanity disclaimer - I was on hold with t-mobile for the majority of this post - hence my paper craft and photography exposition]
Thursday, October 30, 2008
illustrious demands
25 years ago today I was expelled from my mother's uterus.
therefore, in celebration of my existance on this earth, (and thank your lucky stars, your life) this is what I want for my birthday:
1) biscuits and jelly
2) apple pie and ice cream
3) a maid
4) a frodo costume for halloween
5) the answers to Dale Ramsden's take home test
6) the answers to all my questions actually
7) a personal assistant (Erin, really, your name is written all over this one, I suggest you put your bid in early before someone else takes it)
8) new bike wheels
9) someone to image my slides so I don't have to go into lab today
10) an updated sirius radio
11) oh shit the sirius stiletto
12) sirius to be wired into my actual stereo and not transmitted through shitty fm
13) PBS and RPMI waiting for me in the cold room
14) a gym membership at the Y
15) recognition from all the people that I deem relevant in my life, that you are in fact, pleased to have me around, I would like this to be expressed in a monetary or material nature, I could settle for a hug, but a pair of sweet Bose headphones would really drive the message home.
Alright guys, there you have it, you have til midnight, i'd suggest you get cracking, esp for number 5 and 6, could be tricky.
I also recommend you talk amongst yourselves as to who is getting what so I'm not stuck returning double presents.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
the seventh circle
How come, on a mental vacation to the seventh circle of hell, it feels like everyone around you is aware that you are failing miserably at life. Everywhere you walk, sit, eat, meander about, minding your own business, the mundane and ordinary crap happening around you is somehow now, a direct attack at you being a bad person who could have made better choices. Your professor that may have looked at you for a brief second? Totally the stink eye because he knows you aren't paying attention. Didn't get waved at by a friend who is two miles away and on their cell phone? Certainly its nothing rational like they didn't see you, because they secretly have been hating your guts and are choosing this moment to let you know, by ignoring your wave. feel like a friendless loser yet? no? great! the surface has just been scratched.
While mentally traversing the sub-strata of hell, don't forget to take a pit stop on the tier where people are secretly grimacing at you in complete disgust as they smile and nod their head at some vacuous blase conversation the two of you have somehow had the misfortune of falling into - because really they are thinking who let this girl into grad school, why do her pants have a hole in the leg-- WHY DOES SHE KEEP DIGGING IN THE HOLE, a pity how she forgot to filter her secondary antibody, whole weeks worth of experiments down the tubes, god this girl is basket case, the circles under her eyes are terrifying.
All the while, I'm not only tapped into possibly the most poorly timed conversation of my life, reading between the lines of said conversation, but understanding that everyone in a 40 foot radius is aware that I am currently the mecca of all that is execrable. Being such, these people are finely tuned into the fact that I'm not enjoying this conversation, I'm faking my chipper disposition, know that I am now one less friend, and think its also atrocious that I won't stop digging at the hole in my jeans.
I think I really arrive at sheer inner pandemonium when I speak with my PI about my progress in lab (this is the true test of keeping calm on the surface as my insides feel like they could quite possibly succeed in pushing their way through the finer pores in my skin). I could fill entire books on what I perceive to be happening in his head, every blink, breath, throat clearing, 'umm' and 'err' is cataloged to be a secret sign as to how he really feels about my lab work. My streaming thoughts follow a repeating pattern of, 'oh shit does this man even like me? will there be slander on my rotation assesment, Balfour!? WILL THERE?!' Multi-tasking however, like I'm really good at, in that I actually suck at it, I'm also carrying out a scientific, knowledgeable, controlled, and intelligent conversation about the direction of my project. I place more meaningful context with this man's basic bodily functions then I think I ever did in the combined last three years that I was in a relationship. (mis)construing the spectrum of my PI's physical and verbal cues, add up to at best, please strongly consider a job in the secretarial world, preferably that of a lowly run legal office. And, lest it not be forgotten, that this takes place while I mentally fan myself from a lawn chair, sipping warm shit through a straw, in the seventh circle of hell.
What has catapulted me into this mood that would permanently scar small children? Well, nothing really, I was just you know, in a mood for like - oh 4 days. Yesterday however, in the words of the great sabominator, I changed my tampon and got over it.
While mentally traversing the sub-strata of hell, don't forget to take a pit stop on the tier where people are secretly grimacing at you in complete disgust as they smile and nod their head at some vacuous blase conversation the two of you have somehow had the misfortune of falling into - because really they are thinking who let this girl into grad school, why do her pants have a hole in the leg-- WHY DOES SHE KEEP DIGGING IN THE HOLE, a pity how she forgot to filter her secondary antibody, whole weeks worth of experiments down the tubes, god this girl is basket case, the circles under her eyes are terrifying.
All the while, I'm not only tapped into possibly the most poorly timed conversation of my life, reading between the lines of said conversation, but understanding that everyone in a 40 foot radius is aware that I am currently the mecca of all that is execrable. Being such, these people are finely tuned into the fact that I'm not enjoying this conversation, I'm faking my chipper disposition, know that I am now one less friend, and think its also atrocious that I won't stop digging at the hole in my jeans.
I think I really arrive at sheer inner pandemonium when I speak with my PI about my progress in lab (this is the true test of keeping calm on the surface as my insides feel like they could quite possibly succeed in pushing their way through the finer pores in my skin). I could fill entire books on what I perceive to be happening in his head, every blink, breath, throat clearing, 'umm' and 'err' is cataloged to be a secret sign as to how he really feels about my lab work. My streaming thoughts follow a repeating pattern of, 'oh shit does this man even like me? will there be slander on my rotation assesment, Balfour!? WILL THERE?!' Multi-tasking however, like I'm really good at, in that I actually suck at it, I'm also carrying out a scientific, knowledgeable, controlled, and intelligent conversation about the direction of my project. I place more meaningful context with this man's basic bodily functions then I think I ever did in the combined last three years that I was in a relationship. (mis)construing the spectrum of my PI's physical and verbal cues, add up to at best, please strongly consider a job in the secretarial world, preferably that of a lowly run legal office. And, lest it not be forgotten, that this takes place while I mentally fan myself from a lawn chair, sipping warm shit through a straw, in the seventh circle of hell.
What has catapulted me into this mood that would permanently scar small children? Well, nothing really, I was just you know, in a mood for like - oh 4 days. Yesterday however, in the words of the great sabominator, I changed my tampon and got over it.
Monday, October 27, 2008
addendum to previous post.
to attest to my current state of non-sleeping, non-eating, non-functioning affairs, several mistakes from previous posts have been accumulating either in my inbox or comment thread. I don't care to go back and fix said mistakes. But, for someone who is apparently, loosely here people, a scientist, I will note that kelvin is inaccurate. my point was its hot. the end. if you don't know what im talking about then please move on. if you do, and you noticed Ifucked up and didn't care to tell me, well whatever. hope you got a good chuckle.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
get your free advice here!!!!!
unless you are so inclined to stay awake for most of the night due to superfluous vomiting, do not, under any circumstance, ever, eat, a semi-raw sweet potato.
and if you choose to do so, do not under any circumstance, underestimate the ability of your body to procure weeks worth of food to disgorge in a fashion that would make the writer's of exorcist jealous.
and if you choose to do so, do not under any circumstance, underestimate the ability of your body to procure weeks worth of food to disgorge in a fashion that would make the writer's of exorcist jealous.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
3/4 finished with a test=new post!
So, I am desperately trying to finish up yet another brutal take home exam, and in doing so I manage to find myself analyzing every aspect of all that is everything with a magnifying glass that decidedly has nothing to do with Dr. Maile's question, which, is a direct descendant of some altered distopian cess pool universe from hell. (For the love of God, its open ended nature is a direct parallel as to if I was asked, 'hey - what did you do that time you were 10?')
As such, it has occurred to me that upon arriving to Chapel Hill, I have somehow let maintaining standard aspects of well being fall to the way side. For example, my diet has been whittled down to sweet potatoes and frosted mini wheats with the occasional apple. Every now and then I will splurge on tomatoes and mozzarella. Running constantly from point A to point L and then back to point C, and if there is time maybe point B - food is on the same order of silly notions as sleep and making friends with my neighbors 200 lb. Rottweiler.
I am happy to report however, I stay consistently showered (mostly) and I manage to make my bed every morning. And also, I even found time for a hair cut yesterday -which, the lady at Great Clips, where hair cuts cost $13, was horrified by the state of disrepair and pronounced dead end dissemination of what was once a nice hair cut (last year's?). Great clips people, the lady at great clips was disgusted with my hair.
I am also happy to report, that my brand new scooter - where I was asked to sign a waiver promising to bring my bike in at 200 miles, and no more then 200 miles for proper calibration post breaking in -is going in on Thursday morning pushing 600 miles.
I have yet to still find time for glasses, which is rapidly making its way to the top of my to-do list. I really hate sitting at the front of every class, its especially rough now that its getting cold and I wear my heavy ski coat in every morning because my scooter ride is on an order of fucking frigid that would cause trepidation among Russians and eskimos. So, arriving to class, more often then not late, which is to say a standard ten minutes late every class, I have to loudly swish my way to the front, swish my way into a seat, swishing while I unzip my back pack to pull out the requisite binder, pen, water bottle, and the inevitable tissue search, all, whilst swish swish swishing away in my ski coat. And, it is WAY to effing cold to remove my coat until hours after I have disembarked from my morning scooter commute. This, as you can imagine, causes quite the disturbance at the front of the lecture hall, causing my professor to stumble and loose his place, as it takes me five minutes to settle in, sounding like my own advanced acrobatic team dressed in full out nylon sumo suits. Yes, glasses are in order very soon. Honestly, carrying out such nonsense is a back of the classroom activity.
On and on I could go - however, now the sun is up which means I have to relocate to campus, and instead of posting, its more important that I try and find a brush to untangle my freshly butchered hair and scavenge my closet for something slightly clean before making my way to class, which I will be late too, because I will be looking for clean(er) clothes, a brush, packing my lunch of a sweet potato, forgetting 12 things as I walk out the door, returning for 6 of them, leaving, getting to my bike, cursing, returning for the other 6 things, and thusly managing to arrive on campus sans sweet potato, tired, hungry, and waiting to buy my next cup of coffee.
As such, it has occurred to me that upon arriving to Chapel Hill, I have somehow let maintaining standard aspects of well being fall to the way side. For example, my diet has been whittled down to sweet potatoes and frosted mini wheats with the occasional apple. Every now and then I will splurge on tomatoes and mozzarella. Running constantly from point A to point L and then back to point C, and if there is time maybe point B - food is on the same order of silly notions as sleep and making friends with my neighbors 200 lb. Rottweiler.
I am happy to report however, I stay consistently showered (mostly) and I manage to make my bed every morning. And also, I even found time for a hair cut yesterday -which, the lady at Great Clips, where hair cuts cost $13, was horrified by the state of disrepair and pronounced dead end dissemination of what was once a nice hair cut (last year's?). Great clips people, the lady at great clips was disgusted with my hair.
I am also happy to report, that my brand new scooter - where I was asked to sign a waiver promising to bring my bike in at 200 miles, and no more then 200 miles for proper calibration post breaking in -is going in on Thursday morning pushing 600 miles.
I have yet to still find time for glasses, which is rapidly making its way to the top of my to-do list. I really hate sitting at the front of every class, its especially rough now that its getting cold and I wear my heavy ski coat in every morning because my scooter ride is on an order of fucking frigid that would cause trepidation among Russians and eskimos. So, arriving to class, more often then not late, which is to say a standard ten minutes late every class, I have to loudly swish my way to the front, swish my way into a seat, swishing while I unzip my back pack to pull out the requisite binder, pen, water bottle, and the inevitable tissue search, all, whilst swish swish swishing away in my ski coat. And, it is WAY to effing cold to remove my coat until hours after I have disembarked from my morning scooter commute. This, as you can imagine, causes quite the disturbance at the front of the lecture hall, causing my professor to stumble and loose his place, as it takes me five minutes to settle in, sounding like my own advanced acrobatic team dressed in full out nylon sumo suits. Yes, glasses are in order very soon. Honestly, carrying out such nonsense is a back of the classroom activity.
On and on I could go - however, now the sun is up which means I have to relocate to campus, and instead of posting, its more important that I try and find a brush to untangle my freshly butchered hair and scavenge my closet for something slightly clean before making my way to class, which I will be late too, because I will be looking for clean(er) clothes, a brush, packing my lunch of a sweet potato, forgetting 12 things as I walk out the door, returning for 6 of them, leaving, getting to my bike, cursing, returning for the other 6 things, and thusly managing to arrive on campus sans sweet potato, tired, hungry, and waiting to buy my next cup of coffee.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
old habits die hard
Out of sheer lack of motivation to crack into my latest series of papers I should read, before tomorrow, and allow me to re-emphasize the plurality of said papers - I am finding myself perusing the oldest of archived photo collections on my computer. I have thus come to several conclusions, many of these which I have previously thrown around lightly before in post-college haze memorandum style -- these conclusions often allude to a vague picture of me kind of being a hippie in college.
Now, in stark contrast to my current life, my retired hippie days have been etched, in marble, in a time capsule, in the safe hands of NASA. I am happy to leave them there, perma-sealed in with my old birkenstocks.
I bring to you the life and times of the ostensible college hippie:
:
really dirty table, beer shelf, hookah, shot glasses, old beer bottles, some - hugging hippie statue - now so cleverly turned upside down and balanced on aluminum foil and photographed. Really? I'm sure no one did that stoned, and it probably didn't blow their mind either.
Yes, my roommates constructed a solar oven. Yes, we used it, a lot. Yes, there are pictures of breasts on gandalf and frodo in the backround - and yes, that is a little tube of incense below the breast montage.
dirty hippie feet. dirty hookah. dirty beer wall. the ever present dirty aluminum foil. hah! we weren't dirty crackheads.
yup.
check.
one tricked out hemp beaded necklace and one quintessential striped poncho
Thats almost definitely not me, I wouldn't be caught dead in a tie dye dress, hula hooping is for potheads, and this certainly did not take place two months ago.
Now, in stark contrast to my current life, my retired hippie days have been etched, in marble, in a time capsule, in the safe hands of NASA. I am happy to leave them there, perma-sealed in with my old birkenstocks.
I bring to you the life and times of the ostensible college hippie:
:
really dirty table, beer shelf, hookah, shot glasses, old beer bottles, some - hugging hippie statue - now so cleverly turned upside down and balanced on aluminum foil and photographed. Really? I'm sure no one did that stoned, and it probably didn't blow their mind either.
Yes, my roommates constructed a solar oven. Yes, we used it, a lot. Yes, there are pictures of breasts on gandalf and frodo in the backround - and yes, that is a little tube of incense below the breast montage.
vegan burrito anyone?
Free hippie beats!
please. for the love of god. keep your pupils to yourself. thanks.
yes. awesome. lets camp and get dirtier together. it could be fucking harmonious.
Free hippie beats!
please. for the love of god. keep your pupils to yourself. thanks.
yes. awesome. lets camp and get dirtier together. it could be fucking harmonious.
dirty hippie feet. dirty hookah. dirty beer wall. the ever present dirty aluminum foil. hah! we weren't dirty crackheads.
yup.
check.
one tricked out hemp beaded necklace and one quintessential striped poncho
Thats almost definitely not me, I wouldn't be caught dead in a tie dye dress, hula hooping is for potheads, and this certainly did not take place two months ago.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
You're invited!
TO A PITY PARTY!!!!!
Yes folks its that time of year already!! Where did the time go!? - the annual fall melee of fuck my immune system is here, only place to go where the gamut of illness runs from cotton balls in my nose to gravel and glass shards in my intestine, and I'm pretty sure someone put a few bricks in my sinus cavities last night. If you lost your chain saw/blender blades/nails/or otherwise obtrusive sharp objects - look no farther because I think I may have accidentally housed them in my throat and bronchial tubes.
To overload you on the fabulous and fantastic fun that I am currently sitting here not experiencing, I get to present my research tomorrow at 9am. Have I started on my presentation yet?? would this really be a proper pity party if I had? But no worries, because its not like I really sleep anymore anyway. I'll type and fret away into the wee hours of the morning whilst trying to keep most of my internal organs from crawling out of my esophagus.
RSVP by midnight. Bring your own orange juice, tissues are provided, hugs should be distributed cautiously.
Friday, September 26, 2008
oh grad school. oh you.
I have leftover pizza in the fridge for dinner tonight [yay] , I slept a full 8 hours last night thanks to Tylenol PM [bows] , I will be attending an all day music fest tomorrow [fantastic] , I parked on campus for my 4th time in the past two weeks with no ticket [I am a god] , and I just received my take home test from advanced molecular bio [shit] . I'm thoroughly amused with the piquant directions, even though the questions are nothing short of a blood bath.
[
lets break this down:
This exam may contain trick questions designed specifically to lower the Gaussian curve.
Awesome. Thanks. Big relief, because I was pretty worried about breezing right through this test. I mean, its not like I can barely interpret your questions or anything. I'm sure your gratuitous riddles will be just like doing a sudoku to pass the time.
or, you know, how about *not* trying to fail us?
or, you know, how about *not* trying to fail us?
Read the question two times and then read it again to your cat to be certain that you (and your cat) understand what is asked for.
what will the people with no cat do!? WHAT WILL THEY DO!?!? lower the Gaussian curve is what they will do. Thank god I have a fantastically intelligent cat.
Each year about 15% of the answers score zero because the person has re-interpreted the question and answered a different question than the one asked for.
15% of your previous test takers were, apparently, not cat owners.
Remember--your TAs have been specifically trained to detect such deception.
What? wow, did you train them with little treats and a bell? Do they have cats? Are they trained too? Did you also train them to give me a dirty look that would kill the young and innocent when I come to your class late? (and aren't they used to this by now?) Isn't this turning into a lot of work JUST to make sure some people fail your test?
This is all, just mildly appreciated, sir. And furthermore, if it wasn't for your cheeky directions, I'd probably have already started on the test and not be blogging.
This is all, just mildly appreciated, sir. And furthermore, if it wasn't for your cheeky directions, I'd probably have already started on the test and not be blogging.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Reason 468 why Becky is fantastic.
The past two weeks have left me high and dry on the whole - getting 8 hours of sleep per night suggestion. Ive been averaging maybe 2-3 non-consecutive hours a night. In lieu of my new found insomnia, I have resorted to drinking caffeine all. day. long. to overcome the brutal exhaustion that surreptitiously creeps into my brain after 2-3 hours post coffee/tea/diet pepsi max.
So after a long weekend of homework, take home tests, an absurd amount of drinking, and an even more absurd amount of not sleeping, I took melatonin and crawled in bed at 8pm for what was sure to be the answer to all of my life's problems. I could barely make it through a chapter of my John Grisham book I was so exhausted. I turned out the lights and laid awake until, oh, 5am. While being completely and totally exhausted. and *not* sleeping.
Since this wasn't fucking maddening enough--upon waking this morning I dragged myself out of bed, only to have a completely unfamiliar brand of shitty slam me in the face.
I called out to Becky to alert her of only what I could presently figure out - which was that I was really sick, possibly dying, and maybe I needed her help. Appropriately, the world then went silent and black and I woke up in front of my bathroom vanity after a very refreshing and very unplanned nap.
I called out to Becky again and instructed her that she probably needed to call an ambulance, a doctor, my mom, maybe the pope. As Becky comes to my door, I realize that I'm not only lying on my floor, but I'm lying on my floor mostly naked with no means of covering myself since I am completely immobile. So, laying there, and SURE of the fact that I was dying, was washed over with a wave of sudden extreme modesty, and told her she was NOT allowed to come in, but if she could please bring me some water that would be fantastic.
Becky returns with water and attempts to hand it to me with one arm through a tiny crack of my open door. I have no means of reaching said water because I'm still laying on the fucking floor and moving was not an option yet seeing as the world was still mostly black/spinning/silent. So now I'm like, Becky, wtf are you doing, I can't move, come in, jesus christ I'm dying lady. So Becky comes in, comments on the fact that I'm really white, my lips are white, brings me clothes, runs back downstairs and fetches the Brita, comes back, and settles in beside me to finish her homework to make sure I don't, in fact, die. A good 30 min of laying on the floor, watching the kitten fucking drink my water, but was nice enough to take turns with me, and not even caring that he had his entire fucking head in my glass, re-hydrated and moved on with my life.
So the good news is, its 12 pm, I'm alive, on my third cup of coffee, 6th glass of water, and I will make it to my confocal microscopy appointment on time.
Three cheers for Becky who undoubtedly saved my life this morning.
So after a long weekend of homework, take home tests, an absurd amount of drinking, and an even more absurd amount of not sleeping, I took melatonin and crawled in bed at 8pm for what was sure to be the answer to all of my life's problems. I could barely make it through a chapter of my John Grisham book I was so exhausted. I turned out the lights and laid awake until, oh, 5am. While being completely and totally exhausted. and *not* sleeping.
Since this wasn't fucking maddening enough--upon waking this morning I dragged myself out of bed, only to have a completely unfamiliar brand of shitty slam me in the face.
I called out to Becky to alert her of only what I could presently figure out - which was that I was really sick, possibly dying, and maybe I needed her help. Appropriately, the world then went silent and black and I woke up in front of my bathroom vanity after a very refreshing and very unplanned nap.
I called out to Becky again and instructed her that she probably needed to call an ambulance, a doctor, my mom, maybe the pope. As Becky comes to my door, I realize that I'm not only lying on my floor, but I'm lying on my floor mostly naked with no means of covering myself since I am completely immobile. So, laying there, and SURE of the fact that I was dying, was washed over with a wave of sudden extreme modesty, and told her she was NOT allowed to come in, but if she could please bring me some water that would be fantastic.
Becky returns with water and attempts to hand it to me with one arm through a tiny crack of my open door. I have no means of reaching said water because I'm still laying on the fucking floor and moving was not an option yet seeing as the world was still mostly black/spinning/silent. So now I'm like, Becky, wtf are you doing, I can't move, come in, jesus christ I'm dying lady. So Becky comes in, comments on the fact that I'm really white, my lips are white, brings me clothes, runs back downstairs and fetches the Brita, comes back, and settles in beside me to finish her homework to make sure I don't, in fact, die. A good 30 min of laying on the floor, watching the kitten fucking drink my water, but was nice enough to take turns with me, and not even caring that he had his entire fucking head in my glass, re-hydrated and moved on with my life.
So the good news is, its 12 pm, I'm alive, on my third cup of coffee, 6th glass of water, and I will make it to my confocal microscopy appointment on time.
Three cheers for Becky who undoubtedly saved my life this morning.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
This is not you, This is not me. But just looking at her makes me feel better.
I have nothing to write, really, I just need to share this picture from last night. Take away what you will, enjoy.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
just sayin'
*Acknowledgments:
Chris - I am sorry you have to put up with me in your cubicle. Thank you for letting me poke fun of your really expensive Prada glasses. Thanks for not being upset over my sloppy guffawing when I told you they look just like Zelda Rubenstein's glasses. I could tell you weren't the slightest bit amused, although your polite chuckle was appreciated.
Zelda Rubinstein: I didn't have cable as a child and so I religiously watched Poltergeist and Dirty Dancing EVERYDAY growing up, and sometimes a bad japanese cartoon version of Gulliver's Travels. You were someone I admired and feared for years.
Vacuum cleaner, sponge, Clorox: I spent my morning not studying, but scrubbing and vacuuming. This house is clean I tell you! (see what I did there? - lets try and get on the ball with these obscure movie references please.)
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A pleonastic tribute to my friend and yours, Djarum.
Even better than coffee, in my room, on a dark rainy day, in my pjs, with sirius 17 playing me sweet sweet tunes, even better then my free breakfast this morning, and having slept in until 7:15...these things, all of these things have just been overridden, surmounted, TOPPED WITH ICING AND CONFETTI AND BELLS AND WHILSTES,
My will power crashed and burned. My self control plummeted to zero. I just enjoyed my first clove from my first pack of Djarum Blacks as a grad student, while sipping a delicious dark roasted coffee from Panera Bread, while sitting in my dark room in my pjs, while listening to the mellifluous tones of The Heavy Pets.
Oh god its so good to give in. Thank you tobacco store. Thank you Clove. Thank you Panera. Thank you weak will power. I can now commence studying for hours in the etheral calm that only Djarum can bring me.
because
I
just
gave
in.
I
just
gave
in.
My will power crashed and burned. My self control plummeted to zero. I just enjoyed my first clove from my first pack of Djarum Blacks as a grad student, while sipping a delicious dark roasted coffee from Panera Bread, while sitting in my dark room in my pjs, while listening to the mellifluous tones of The Heavy Pets.
Oh god its so good to give in. Thank you tobacco store. Thank you Clove. Thank you Panera. Thank you weak will power. I can now commence studying for hours in the etheral calm that only Djarum can bring me.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Smack Talk
This is a few months worth of some wall posts exchanged (the private messages we send each other tend to be much worse) between myself and my internet friend Matt, I have never met said friend, and yes, we met through the mecca of all that is awesome-- facebook--. Our entire relationship is based on verbally assaulting one another - for really no other reason then I can consistently beat the shit out of Matt in Scramble (unless he cheats). A little background, I think Matt is like, pushing 40 - is a lobbyist, and and knows how to play maybe three chords on a guitar.
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote at 1:56pm on July 6th, 2008 I'm beginning to understand why you don't have a boyfriend.
*ouch | |
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Lisa McCoig wrote
at 2:23pm on July 6th, 2008
woah - you're reaching. and - you just aren't reaching far enough.
at 2:23pm on July 6th, 2008
no - didn't cut me deep on that one im afraid.
shouldn't you be expending that little bean of yours' energy on scramble.? i know that dig took a lot of effort. don't tax yourself now. pacing is key.
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 12:41am on July 19th, 2008
at 12:41am on July 19th, 2008
I'm sorry, Lisa. I seem to be beating your ass in Scramble. I let my subscription to SA expire because the new editors turned it into a commie pinko rag.
Lisa McCoig wrote
at 10:22am on July 19th, 2008
at 10:22am on July 19th, 2008
So, I am sitting here on my couch wistfully reflecting on memories of old, memories of new. Whilst staring off into space with a dreamy gleam in my eye, I recalled this foggy memory of the time you wrote on my wall bragging about - I think you were beating me in scramble? or something, but you totally were throwing down mad smack talk. I guess you thought you were going to win. yeah, it was definately scramble.
and then. I won.
and then. I won.
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Lisa McCoig wrote
at 10:10am on July 23rd, 2008
at 10:10am on July 23rd, 2008
you would be so lucky to a) be cool enough to rock out my glasses and b) understand how to embrace things of an awesome nature such as large unsightly cranial accessories.
your skills are clearly lacking in more then just scramble and perhaps two or three missing fingers.
just sayin' ;)
GO BACK TO WHORE ISLAND!!!!!!!!!!
your skills are clearly lacking in more then just scramble and perhaps two or three missing fingers.
just sayin' ;)
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 6:27pm on July 23rd, 2008
I BEAT YOU!!!!!
at 6:27pm on July 23rd, 2008
GO BACK TO WHORE ISLAND!!!!!!!!!!
Lisa McCoig wrote
at 10:32pm on July 23rd, 2008 I give you my most sincere congratulations for beating me after 100's of rounds. The statistics have treated you well. | |
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Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 10:50pm on July 23rd, 2008 Ahhh, rationalize it however you wish, but the fact remains that my skill grows like a mighty oak, as yours diminishes like a bush that has been urinated on too much. (I've actually seen that happen. | |
Lisa McCoig wrote
at 2:34pm on July 24th, 2008
at 2:34pm on July 24th, 2008
I'm sorry to hear your bush died b/c you lack indoor plumbing.
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 4:30pm on July 24th, 2008
at 4:30pm on July 24th, 2008
Funny how you immediately assumed it was due to a lack of indoor plumbing... must be a cultural thing.
WHAT THE HELL IS THAT BUMPER STICKER?!?!?!?!?!???
WHAT THE HELL IS THAT BUMPER STICKER?!?!?!?!?!???
Lisa McCoig wrote
at 12:25pm on August 10th, 2008
at 12:25pm on August 10th, 2008
dear matt,
my condolences for your grief on my latest internet disappearance. do not fear, i will be back to kick your ass in scramble. i hope your wet tear stained pillow doesn't keep you up at night.
love and kisses,
lisa
my condolences for your grief on my latest internet disappearance. do not fear, i will be back to kick your ass in scramble. i hope your wet tear stained pillow doesn't keep you up at night.
love and kisses,
lisa
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 10:51am on August 20th, 2008 It's "ensuring," moron | |
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Lisa McCoig wrote
at 12:29pm on August 20th, 2008 thanks douchey. | |
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Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 10:53pm on August 25th, 2008 You're forgetting the rope!!! You need a ROPE, silly!!! | |
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Lisa McCoig wrote
at 7:01am on August 26th, 2008 uuhh. what do i need a rope for? | |
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 8:03am on August 26th, 2008
at 8:03am on August 26th, 2008
Oh, never mind. Your profile pic shows you standing on the stool, and I just assumed you were in despair about losing to be twice in Scramble. I decided to cheat just to irritate you.
Lisa McCoig wrote
at 11:26am on August 26th, 2008 wow. you would cheat b/c you obviously don't have enough manhood to handle my consistent winning streak. ahhhh one day maybe your testes will drop or something. | |
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 5:33pm on August 26th, 2008
at 5:33pm on August 26th, 2008
My testes did drop. I'll never forget that day, in fact. They hit the floor so hard they broke my foot and my parents had to call a contractor to fix the basement ceiling.
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Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 11:20pm on September 8th, 2008 McCoig, you so suck. | |
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Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 11:31pm on September 8th, 2008 Speaking of nightime accoutrements, you left your vibrator next to my bed again. | |
Lisa McCoig wrote
at 7:15am on September 9th, 2008 it can stay there, I don't need my vibrator when I'm with anyone else. | |
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 9:08pm on September 9th, 2008 Yeah, but it's your vibrator that's 6 inches wide with the 12-volt rechargable battery, and it's really taking up a lot of space. | |
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Lisa McCoig wrote
at 9:53pm on September 9th, 2008
so you are waiting for me to give you permission to house it in your anus. oh. i see. I don't know how I didn't read between the lines earlier. Well, Matt - by all me
at 9:53pm on September 9th, 2008
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 10:46pm on September 9th, 2008
at 10:46pm on September 9th, 2008
Well, no, actually. I'm just saying that if you can pick it up, along with the camper battery adapter and your value-sized tub of Valtrex, I might be able to put a few of my books down on my nightstand. Thanks!
Lisa McCoig wrote
at 5:09pm on September 10th, 2008
at 5:09pm on September 10th, 2008
Matt, number one, your reading is limited to menu's with pictures, number two, try not to act like I'm paying you some disservice when we both know you are feeling extra manly with my vibrator so proudly displayed on your nightstand, number three, my vag can not accommodate 6 inch wide anythings unless its squishy like a baby, number four, we went in on the extra big valtrex together- so why don't you scoop out your half and I'll think about removing the container to my own home - although i really only remember to take it when you're around. goodness gracious.
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 7:49pm on September 10th, 2008 Lisa, you're obviously still incensed over the time you caught me knocking up your mother. Don't be mad at me! She's the one who gave you the thumbs up sign in the middle of it, not me. I only told you to close the door because you were letting in a draft. I wasn't trying to be rude. | |
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Lisa McCoig wrote
at 10:40am yesterday
at 10:40am yesterday
didn't want a draft eh? understandable, you might need all the um *ahem* non cold and drafty conditions you can get.
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 9:58pm yesterday Certainly so. Your mom's vag is like a sloppy piece of roast beef on a good day, and when it gets cold it's like banging a snowman. Chilly! | |
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Lisa McCoig wrote
at 4:27am Matt, let's not act like roast beef isn't the better alternative to the microwaved watermelon you're used to. | |
Matt McBride (Baltimore, MD) wrote
at 9:52am Microwaved watermelon? Must be a Southern thing. | |
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Friday, September 12, 2008
Three caffeine induced life truths.
Upon waking yesterday morning from four hours of sleep to a really not so surprising wine hangover - I decided caffeine-- superfluous* amounts of caffeine that is, would be my answer to not only make it through my morning alive, but to also fuel what would be an otherwise miserable bike ride.
*
Main Entry: superfluous
Part of Speech: adj
Definition 1: more than enough; overabundant; extra
Definition 2: one cup of coffee brewed from espresso beans, one sugar-free red bull, one Centrum weight smart with Caffeine and Guarana
I began my ride as per normal, perusing through my mp3 player, and for the first time in years, not skipping over Jane's Addiction. One JA song led to another, and led me to another, until I was solely listening to the entire Kettle Whistle album - which leads me to truth number 1, Jane's addiction is totally worth revisiting, Jane and I have come full circle, furious grunge rock found its way back into my now rapidly beating little hamster heart.
As I fiercely forwarded from one song to the next- caffeine was subsequently taking over my bike ride/heart/life/soul. Now, in an insane pedaling frenzy, frustrated that suddenly this whole, axle/chain system was making my ride way too easy, and contemplating perhaps running, whilst carrying my bike, and maybe a few average sized men on my back --to adequately consume this insurmountable level of energy surging through my soul, I transpired into my very own living breathing quintessential Brawndo commercial. www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tbxq0IDqD04 (and can also apparently, render the wolrd's longest and most impressive run on sentences)
Riding, at perhaps 300 rpm, maybe averaging 50 mph, head-bopping and arm waving to Jane's addiction, I arrive at a stoplight and realize I am in fact, surrounded by morning traffic and perhaps I might look slightly foolish in my cycling/dancing endeavors. In my peripheral vision, I see a flurry - of something, something rapidly moving - furiously - scaring me that I am now starting to hallucinate on what can only be an overdose of caffeine. Upon further inspection, the flurry is a lady, and her arms are moving insanely fast. Her arm storm was inclusive of ripinng motions to her head, specifically her ears. I thought maybe we were on some caffeine induced ethereal page together. The terribly unexciting truth was, she just wanted me to remove my headphones to scold me, leaving JA to blare loud enough for at least three cars back to enjoy. (free beats!)
"I can't believe you ride with your headphones on!! Is it really necessary for you to listen to music while you ride? Don't you know the dangers of riding and not being able to hear traffic?? You need to be careful young lady, I am just trying to look out for you, you should take those things off!!"
Hey lady, maybe the next time you go on a bike ride, and judging from your sheer size would be never, but if you do, and also you get lost - and you are now 40 miles into your ride and you blew through all of your electrolytes hours ago, and also your are trying to peddle up a hill - which if it was any steeper cars would fall off the face of the earth - and your thigh cramps, but you can't stop because there isn't enough time to unclip your fucking shoe without falling over because you are moving up said hill so slowly...and the ONLY thing you have to rely on, your only fucking thigh cramp emollient, is the strong beat of Particle --And the only alternative to Particle is to kill yourself, because the pain is ungodly intense, THEN YES I DO NEED TO WEAR HEADPHONES WHEN I RIDE. (Truth #2) And if you are so inclined to be such the altruist, then maybe you can go clean up the vomit I laid down on 751 north, exorcist style.
Which leads me to Truth #3, when your eggs expired two months ago, don't eat that shit.
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