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.

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.

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.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

ppppppppsssssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh *pop



















o_O






today's onomatopoeia is brought to you by the letter death and number oh fuck.

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.

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.



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.