13.1 miles = 2:34:13

Virgina Beach was a great time. After fearing that Ernesto may wash out the weekend, it all turned out to be beautiful. It was a good omen when we were in the home stretch of the drive down, crossing the bridge-tunnel thing, that the sun broke through and clouds dispursed. Beautiful.

JS and I arrived at the hotel, where Crazy, SweetPea and SP were waiting. After picking up race packets and taking a nap, we went to dinner to celebrate and carb load for the race. Dinner, carb load, stopped at an arcade to partake of skee ball, Ms. Pac Man, air hockey and shoot 'em up saloon. It's the great joy of winning tickets to turn in for absolutely useless objects (we got 1 large and 2 small superballs, by the way). Great times and fun memories of childhood. After all this fun, we turned in early as gun time was at 7am.

Let me just say that waking up at 5am sucks. No matter what the reason. When the reason is to run a whole lot... makes it much harder. But we were there with a purpose. No crapping out now. Gun time was at 7am, which meant that the elite runners took off at that point. We of the slow corral did not even make it up to the start line until nearly 25 minutes later. Which also meant we knew that, at the point where the course loops back at miles 2 and 8 over the bridge, we would be seeing the leaders heading back before we even made it over the bridge.


It's quite humbling to see that, actually. And at the same quite cool.

My knee began to bother me at mile 2.5. Really, I was hoping that my body would coorperate on race day, and in all of my training, the distance I had been running before my knee began to annoy me had increased. Now it decides to be a bother. I ran through it. It really hurt at points and I walked a lot more of the race than I had hoped. But I kept going. There was nothing that was going to keep me from finishing, even if I had to crawl.

The course passed by the hotel at which we were staying at two points - in front on Atlantic Ave. and behind on the Boardwalk. JS and SP had made signs, and I was really looking forward to seeing the cheering squad. After having lost her earlier in the race, Crazy found me and we passed the hotel at Atlantic at the same time. No cheering squad. I was sad. But we figured that we had estimated the time we would be passing by wrong, since we didn't anticipate the long delay after gun time. Maybe they thought they missed us.

Coming around on the Boardwalk, I was searching for them again. From a distance I saw the signs hung up on the hotel room balcony. I hear my name. YAY! Cheering squad. Quick sweaty kiss and I was off to the finish, which was about 1.5 miles from that point. God, I think that was the longest mile I have ever run. But coming in, seeing the finish line in the distance approaching, I got a burst of energy and crossed the finish strong.

Afterward, well, not so much. It took forever to find each other at the end and even longer to make our way back to the hotel. But after getting off the shuttle bus, we turned the corner to the hotel and saw this on our room door:


That was probably the best thing ever. Made us all laugh out loud.

The rest of the day, I was pretty much useless. After that much stress, my metabolism was all screwed up. And I had a headache that just would not go away. I felt awful about it. I pretty much fell asleep in my lamb chops at dinner.

We're home. I'm achy. I'm sunburnt. My knee feels much better after some heat therapy. I have the personal satisfaction of accomplishing something I've never done before. I have a cool medal to show for my pains.


And I ask myself, would I do it again? In a heartbeat.

The end is near...

The end of summer that is. Okay, on the calendar, summer doesn't officially end until September 22nd or something (I can never remember). But for all intents and purposes, everyone equates the end of summer with Labour Day (just like the beginning is Memorial Day). And what better way to celebrate this last weekend of summer than a whole lot of rain from what is left of Hurricane Ernesto (aside: I find it amusing that while Ernesto, a hurricane with a pretty fun name, but little punch, is churning in the Atlantic, John, common name, much bigger punch, is slamming the Pacific. But that's just me, I like hurricane watching.)

My other end of the summer activity for the weekend is the long awaited half-marathon. Yes, it is finally here. And for all of you who made fun of me this past weekend for not running in the rain - the storm will be well past Virginia Beach by gun time. So, after a year of waiting and training, the race is finally here, and I actually feel prepared. We'll see how I feel Sunday afternoon when I'm done.

Mostly I'm kind of disappointed that the summer went by so quickly. I had so many plans that didn't work out for one reason or another. JS and I were supposed to go to the museum once a month in DC - that didn't work out. Life seemed to get in the way of living for a while, which is never a good thing.

But I have so much to look forward to this fall. Next weekend is the American Chemical Society's conference in San Francisco. Yes, I know, thrilling, right? But it's San Francisco, so I'm happy - as is JS because he's coming with me. Then it's PR at the end of the month with MS and TC. I'm sure there are going to be other fun things to do before the end of the year.

There is a mistique about summer though. It's the time of fun and free time, even though we are still working everyday. The weather I prefer is autumn. But I guess I will never be out of the kid mindset that summer is the fun time and the rest of the year is filler.

For fear of... me?

So, I was told yesterday that certain people are scared of me. I've always joked at one time or another that people, when they meet me, often find me to be scary. It generally depends on the situation under which we meet - in the lab, when I'm in the middle of an experiment, standing in front of a classroom of idiot college junior/senior BMEs, etc. I'm not an intimidating looking person by any means, and have spent most of my life being shy. But, given a certain situation where I am serious, I guess I can be scary.

Mostly, I'm just a happy person now. Just don't get me pissed off. It really does take a lot to piss me off, so people generally know to watch out when it happens. In talking to Cynical yesterday, she described a look I gave which she described as "so cold, I nearly ran out of the room." Efrex told me way back that I had, what he called, "The Stare," which apparently can curdle milk. So I guess that's what people fear - my anger or the possibility of my anger.

But again, it doesn't happen often. It's not like I pop off and yell at everyone who steps on my toe. It really does take a lot to get me to the point where I can't just brush it off. And most of the time, there's a long build-up to it.

I just find it humorous - me, scary and intimidating.

The Seven Worker Dwarves (revised)

Evil, Crazy, Bitter, Jaded, Cynical, Pissed and Maniacal.

We got rid of Clueless because, well, he was too clueless.

Introducing Hauser

Jay and Ang's new baby





And the question of the day from Jay: How do you train a pup to not pee and poop where he wants?

How do we define fugly?

Okay, okay. I'll admit it. I'm not a fashion maven by any stretch of the imagination. I don't generally follow the most current fashion trends. But I know what I am comfortable wearing, what I generally look good in, and I stick with what works. There are some things that took me a while to come around to - like capri/crop pants, which I now love. Some things I wish I could pull off (gouchos), but simply can't. And things that I will wear even if they go out of style - cargo pants and boot cut cords (not the ones with the fat cords, but the narrow ones that are actually slimming).

What is distressing me as of late is the apparent return of 80's style fashion.

"The fabulous '80s are staging a comeback for fall 2006. Especially in the form of leggings, booties and off-the-shoulder sweaters. For those of us who are, ahem, young enough to remember this glitzy era, our first initial reaction is to cringe. Visions of Madonna and Jennifer Beals appear dancing and grinding before our eyes."



Now, I've noticed it for a while, but it's coming on full steam. I mean, the outfit in the picture is actually being sold as "Sophisticated 80's Look." Seriously. There are some things that should just be left behind. MS once said that there were certain looks from the 80's which evolved into better things - the evolution of the legging to the yoga pant was her example. And I totally agree. I think it wouldn't be so cringe-inducing for me if one or two elements came back here and there. I believe it's the fact that it's coming back all at once that makes me want to scream: NOOOOOOOO!

I think I'll just stick with one piece of fashion advice I heard not too long ago: If you're old enough to have worn it the first time around, you're too old to do it again.

Oddly appropriate

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Explicit instructions

So, last Friday, as part of our half-marathon training, Crazy, SweetPea and I went out for a run in the morning in the sweltering heat. Since we were leaving just before JS would be leaving for work, we made a request: Please leave the garage door open so that we can get back into the building. This was so we wouldn't have to take keys on the run with us.

Well, returning from our run about 40 minutes later, we are happy to find that the garage door is open and we can get in. Trudge up the stairs, desperately wanting a shower (it was about 200% humidity that morning), we approach the third floor and our apartments. Happy and relieved I made it up the stairs, I try to open the door - try being the operative word here. What the?!?! F*CK!! The door is locked!! And I hear Thor barking behind the door - damn the dog for not having opposable thumbs.

I called JS to inform him of the situation (very apologetic). Maintenance was called to let me in... and I waited in Crazy's apartment until they arrived. While we were sitting and chatting, SweetPea brought up a funny point. He says, "Well, he did what you asked him to do. You told him to leave the garage door open. You never said DON'T lock the apartment. He's a guy, he needs explicit instructions..." (btw, SweetPea is a guy too, so don't get all upset thinking this is a guy bashing story) Crazy and I are laughing hysterically. Well, he does have a point, you know.

I'll just remember next time to leave step by step instructions when I go running again.

Run, run as fast as you can

So, I've mentioned that I will be participating in the Rock n' Roll Half Marathon on Labor Day weekend. The training goes... don't know necessarily that it goes well, but it goes. We did 8 miles last weekend (surprised the heck out of me that I was able to do it). We're going to do 10 miles next weekend, I think. Then just some short runs until the race.

I have a problem though. I hate running. I really do. It's boring. It's only somewhat fun if I have my running/training partners with me. Unfortunately, Crazy and SweetPea are away this week. I need them for motivation. Even going to the gym for the treadmill is hard, let alone running outside. And it's been hot (well, not today, but it has been hot). But I need to get out there, or else by the time they get back (and I know they're running where ever they are), I will be back to suck. I do need to take advantage of the nice weather, now that it's here.

I made it to the gym today, but the overall workout pretty much sucked. Maybe gluttony and sloth aren't too far off the mark, after all.

Why can't I ever have a normal round of golf?

It seems something funny always seems to happen when I go play golf. Saturday, SweetPea and I played a round at the Executive 9 at Needwood Golf Course. It was fun. I was hitting much better than I had last week. My short game still sucks. But I was feeling pretty good about the day overall. On the 9th hole, happy that my drive hit the green, I began my lineup for my putt. Last hole, ending on a good note. Hoping for par (it was a long putt). Well, as I was in my backswing, the sprinklers pop up and start spraying us, our clubs and most importantly, the green, in water. We were surrounded. It took quite a long time and a lot of dodging to finish the last hole... Why can't I ever have a normal golf outing?

Ok, this one is just random and funny

For some reason, I thought this one would be a good one to try. The answer is totally random...

Your Boobies' Names Are...

Bambi and Thumper

Boobie Name Generator

Okay, I needed to do this one cuz I'm a geek

You Passed 8th Grade Science

Congratulations, you got 8/8 correct!

Could You Pass 8th Grade Science?

Just wanted to check.

Seriously, how sad is this?

Your Deadly Sins

Gluttony: 60%

Pride: 20%

Sloth: 20%

Envy: 0%

Greed: 0%

Lust: 0%

Wrath: 0%

Chance You'll Go to Hell: 14%

You'll die from a diabetic coma.

How Sinful Are You?

Really. I knew I liked to eat, but not this much. I think I'll take a nap now.

Have we seriously come to this?

When I was young and started school, Kindergarten was a wonderful thing. I remember my teacher, Ms. Heagney (Jay, help me out with the spelling here), being the most fabulous person in the world. She really was the quinticential kindergarten teacher, with the patient, soothing voice, always making people feel smart and making learning fun. Kindergarten was a place where you learned for a little and played for a little, where creativity was encouraged and learning was supposed to be fun. We learned to read and write and count. We learned to share, to resolve arguments, to make friends and develop social skills. We played dress-up. We painted (I always looked forward to my day at the paints). We pretended. We used our imaginations.

Why am I talking about this? Because reading this article disturbed me. When did we get to the point that children need to do math drills at 5 years old? Why would we want to? Now, I don't have kids yet, and I understand that this is a competitive world. But why start this type of thing at 4 or 5 years old? This is the time in children's lives when they are the most fertile in their imaginations, in their sense of fun and play.

More and more, while I'm out, I see children who have absolutely no sense of proper behaviour in public. They don't know how to act around strangers. They don't know how to use their "inside" voice. They throw tantrums. And maybe I'm stretching, but I think part of this has to do with the fact that so much of everything else is structured, they don't know what to do at unstructured times. That's the type of thing that kindergarten is supposed to teach. Fair play, that you don't always get what you want, that you sometimes need to be patient for your turn, that you can occupy your free (play) time with wonderful things going on in your head instead of making a ruckus, that when free time is over, you need to be quiet. If this time is taken up with sitting and doing math drills and reading comprehension worksheets, what's left?

There is so much placed on fulfilling the numbers and quotas that we end up raising little robots. Robots who are ready to explode at any moment. Children should not be bored in school at such a young age. If they get that sense at 5, there is no hope for the future.

Drink more coffee

It's good for you. I happen to love coffee. Not for the caffeine, really, as I don't drink it everyday. I just love the taste of coffee. I will occassionally patronize a Starbucks, as there are really no independent coffee shops near work. I will not drink their drip coffee, however, as it just tastes like bitters. So I usually cough up a few bucks for a mocha or something to that effect (Frappuccinos, I have to admit, are really tasty, but that could be because of all the sugar). There is a bit of ridiculousness as to the preponderance of Starbucks in this country. Anyway, this is not a Starbucks rant - there are plenty of websites out there for that.

Back to the point - I really like coffee. For the taste. So I generally search out good coffee, if at all possible. In the northeast, the mecca for good and relatively cheap coffee is Dunkin Donuts. Love Dunkin. And they have been known more for their coffee than their doughnuts for a very long time. In their expansion across the US, rather than compete with the ubiquitously good Krispy Kreme for king of the doughnut kingdom, Dunkin is marketing their coffee - a good move, I think.

I spent much of my last year in grad school, typing my thesis at Evergreen Cafe, fueled by excellent coffee and free WiFi. Why would I go anywhere else when there's internet and free refills all day long (for $1.50 - try to find that anywhere else). The thing is, I really miss is that kind of place. The cafe where you can sit for hours on end, nursing a coffee and cookie, reading and just relaxing. I haven't really found a place that even comes close since moving down here. And as a result, my coffee consumption has dropped.

I need to find a place like that around here. There are coffee shops here and there, but they are usually a part of the strip-mall culture that reigns in these parts. It takes away the allure a bit. *Sigh* I need a place with good coffee, comfy couches, cool music and interesting people to watch. The search goes on.

Dreaming of Puerto Rico

I. Want. To. Go.

Blogging about blogging

I have to agree with CawfeeBoy about these particular observations about blogs. The rare time I hit the "next blog" button up there in the right hand corner, I am confronted with some lame ass piece of crap, wrought with cheesy music or written in another language. So I don't generally hit the "next blog" button. But again, I hope that my blog is not half as bad as what I've seen out there.

So it was interesting when I came across this article. I, like the "about half" of the people who responded to this particular survey, blog for myself and my close friends and family. I don't think there are all that many people I don't know who read this thing. And I'm fine with that. I'm not out there to make a statement. I just think it's more fun to put the crap in my brain out there rather than writing mass e-mails when I feel like having a braindump.

I get to vent. I get to be silly. I get to write about whatever the hell is on my mind - however inane. I get to show everyone that I am indeed Supergirl. And whomever chooses to read will and all others will pass it by. And I love the occasional comments.

But the reason I started it all was actually really simple. Way back when, Blogger required that you register for a blog in order to make comments. So, I figured, as long as I was registered for one, I may as well use it.

You asked CawfeeBoy

You wanted to know which superhero? Here's my answer:

Your results:
You are Supergirl

Supergirl 75% Superman 70% The Flash 65% Spider-Man 60% Wonder Woman 60% Iron Man 55% Robin 52% Batman 50% Hulk 50% Green Lantern 45% Catwoman 25%

Lean, muscular and feminine. Honest and a defender of the innocent.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz


All right, the HTML is screwed up and I can't fix it. We'll all have to deal.

Hell hath no fury...

What happens when a woman finds out her husband is cheating on her with her best friend? This happens.

Update: I'm disappointed, because I was hoping that this woman had really big balls. Unfortunately, it looks like some sort of add campaign for Court TV.

Killer kangaroos and the demon duck of doom

Seriously. Sometimes, it's not even necessary to make up headlines.

Going to hell... and laughing along the way

A while back, I mentioned my new little addiction, the Blogging the Bible project on Slate.com. First, the shit's funny. Second, I love that the person writing it is named David Plotz. Seriously. Plotz. He's finished with Genesis and Exodus - great bits of reading, and has moved onto Leviticus.

You know when someone is a good writer when he can summarize the book of Leviticus, which he calls "a confusing swirl of baffling practices, peculiar laws, and ornate rituals," into something truly entertaining to read. My favorite part today?

Leviticus interrupts these dire leprous warnings to reassure men that, yes, it's OK to be bald. "If a man loses the hair of his head and becomes bald, he is pure." And it gets better! God also approves of male-pattern baldness. "If he loses the hair on the front part of his head and becomes bald at the forehead, he is pure." So throw out that Rogaine! God loves a cue-ball, baby!

Tellin' ya, this shit's funny. Makes you look at the bible in a whole new way.

It's Friday

And I want to see Pirates! I have been very much looking forward to the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie, and it's finally here. I really loved the first one - even though I went into it not really expecting anything. It's now one of my favorite movies, and the movie that brought Johnny Depp clearly back into my sphere of awareness. It's amazing to me that his Captain Jack character, with the swarthy tone, ambiguous sexuality, and overall sloshiness could be so damn sexy. But he is, and I'm so looking forward to more. I hope I'm not disappointed.

Time warped

Okay, I'm all disoriented today. Long weekend (with visit from MS, which was fab). Yesterday I worked at home (and I DID work, and got lots done too). We went out to see Spamalot last night, so it felt like Friday night (highly recommend it). And today is my first day actually in the office since Friday, so I feel like it's Monday. So then, it's Friday again tomorrow - which is great. But I'm all out of whack - it's all confusing, and a lot of people are still away, so the office is still quite empty. I'm sure I'll be better after the weekend.

The Seven Worker Dwarves

We rounded out our seven in the office not too long ago:

Evil (me), Crazy (LS), Bitter, Jaded, Cynical, Pissed and Clueless

Because I'm evil...

Well, maybe not evil in this particular case, but sometimes people just set themselves up so well, I just can't let an opportunity pass. This is a transcript of a conversation I had with the one who pissed me off last week:

Him: So what are you reading there?
Me: A resume.
Him: You applying somewhere?
Me: No, someone else’s resume.
Him: Oh, okay. Someone else’s fluff.
Me: Yeah, blah blah blah. It’s funny to see the kind of fluff people write.
Him: Yeah, I wonder what mine would be like.
Me: (as I am walking away) Somehow, I don’t think that fluff is your weak point…
Him: (calling out of office) Weak point? That’s not nice.
Me: *smile and laugh*

The other than really setting himself up like that, the reason why it was funny was because it took him about a second too long to realize that he had just been insulted.

My smile of the day

I read the news constantly. I have an order every day, a few times a day, when I need a break from my work. CNN, NY Times, MSNBC, and Slate. In that order. I skim headlines, see if anything peaks my interest, read a few articles, move on to the next site.

During my lunch hour cycle, I came across this book review. A book review by a 6 year old. It is probably the funniest thing I've read in a while. This kid is very astute and observant, but definitely a kid. My favorite quote is for a book called, "Why Do Dogs Have Wet Noses?" --

I'm not patient, and this book is so big. I bet that whoever wrote this book is a scientist because they know so much about dogs... I was bored but I liked learning about dogs. I think that's all of my opinion.

Freakin' hilarious.

Rules of personal behaviour

Okay, I'm not a list maker. But this is a list that's been bouncing around my head for the past few days. Probably because of everything that has happened of late, I feel the need to put things down in writing. This is not me preaching to anyone. These are the rules I have for me.

So, here are my rules of personal behaviour - the rules which I have been trying to follow in my everyday life:

1. Treat everyone with kindness and respect - including yourself.
2. Embrace love - don't fear it.
3. Be honest with yourself and others.
4. Don't allow yourself to be a doormat.
5. If it seems like everyone is against you, take a good hard look at yourself.
6. Never expect anyone do to anything that you would not do yourself (except killing bugs).
7. Laugh at yourself - don't take yourself too seriously.
8. Professionalism does not mean you can't have fun, but don't have fun at the expense of professionalism.
9. Do not go through life avoiding the things you hate or fear.
10. Don't sweat the small stuff, but do the little things to make yourself happy every day.
11. Don't whine or complain about a situation if you are not willing to do something to fix it.

Most everything on the list is an extension or elaboration of the first three rules. But it is necessary for me to make some things more specific, I guess. This list is by no means finished, either. I'm going to continue to add to it should I think of anything. But one of the main things for me is to not follow one rule at the expense of another. And I'm trying. And I'm sure I will fail at times. But I'm trying.

Having it in print will allow me to come back and read it whenever I need a reminder or a kick in the ass.

On giggly women

So, the episode the other day concerning my co-worker got me thinking about something very specific. We all laugh. I happen to laugh a lot and, much of the time, quite loudly. But there is a subset of women whom I cannot understand or abide. And they are giggly women. More annoying is a subset of that subset: giggly Asian women. I'll get to the sub-subset in a moment.

When I say giggly women, I don't mean the ones, who when they laugh, do so quietly or are reserved. Or when one "gets the giggles," which happens occasionally. I am talking about those women who seem to be in a constant state of being just about to giggle when you talk to them. The ones who will giggle at any inane joke that a guy they are interested in (and sometimes not interested in) makes. The ones who, when they get around the other giggly women, giggle incessantly to the point where I want to go over there and smack them.

Why such vitriol? I think part of it has to do with the fact that I chose a career path which is male dominated. When women are the minority, whether there is a need or not, there is a tendency to try to be more serious, to show that we are serious. Over-professionalism, I guess. And I've worked with and encountered males who have literally said, "I don't trust attractive women in science," and who do not take an opinion seriously when coming from a woman but will when coming from a man. And it's made me a little cynical and jaded on that front. I want to be taken seriously, by everyone. I want to be perceived as intelligent from the moment I open my mouth. And I feel that the giggly women, no matter how intelligent they are, present a really silly front, and I think it's bad for all women. Not only do I think it doesn't allow a step forward, I think it sometimes causes a step back.

So, the sub-subset of giggly Asian women. What's my beef with them? They propagate a stereotype which I just hate. A stereotype with which I try very hard not to be associated. The Hello Kitty toting, really awful J-pop listening, feet shuffling, everything they own needing to be cute, traveling in packs, life is all about being cute women. The Iron Chef actress/commentator, "Teehee, this tastes like spring," chick. The ones who seem to have stopped maturing at the age of 12. And I know that they exist and will always be out there and that stereotypes come from somewhere. I just want it to stop. Stop trying to be all cutesy and demure. It's just irritating.

Am I being fair? Probably not. And not all giggly women are airheads. But I think that, if you are in that constant state of giggle-dom, and laughing increases airflow to the body (unless it's uncontrollable, then you just hyperventilate), then it's reasonable to conclude that the majority of giggly women have a bit more air in their heads than average.

**this also marks my 100th post to this blog **

Random and freaky

So, while at dim sum yesterday, sitting and having conversation with TC, PC and JS, I see a woman bee-lining toward me, smile on her face. Someone from grad school whom I haven't seen in years. Totally random to be in the same restaurant and being seated at tables next to each other. So, cool. She gave me her card and we have a pending brunch date.

Because of this encounter, I began thinking of people with whom I had not spoken or emailed in a while. About an hour or so ago, I thought of someone, also from grad school, and was trying to remember her email address. About 15 minutes ago, I got an email from her, simply asking what's up. That's a little freaky... okay, a little more than a little freaky.

Maybe I should start thinking about winning the lottery or something and it'll happen.

Livid doesn't even BEGIN to describe it

I get last minute work all the time. It's annoying. But mistakes are made, things are overlooked and as a result assignments are received late. So, I grumble, but I deal. Do my work, as best as I can, trying not to compromise quality just because I'm a little rushed.

Today, I am asked to review part of a file. Okay, it's a file for a standard device. And why he thought that a chemistry review wasn't needed for this one, when one is necessary for every file of this device type - well, I'll attribute it to a brain fart or just plain stupidity.

Me: When is the file due?
Him: Out on Wednesday.
Me: When do you need it?
Him: I was hoping to get it done by today or tomorrow morning. I have to leave at 1pm tomorrow and won't be here Monday or Tuesday.
Me: In other words today.
Him: If there isn't much, don't bother writing anything up.

Well, there was much. A full review was necessary. These reviews usually have about a 2 week timeline because of other work and because of thoroughness' sake. So, I have, essentially, an afternoon. I drop the rest of my work to do it. It sucks, but it needs to be done. Nothing I have is due tomorrow. And it's the right thing to do and I don't want him to get stuck. It's happened to me before, so I get it.

So, I'm working my ass off all afternoon. Trying to get the review done for him. So he doesn't get in trouble. Because it's the right thing to do. We all have brain farts. It's an honest mistake. An oversight. Happens to all of us. I ask how long he'll be sticking around. He says that he wants to try to get it done, so whenever it is.

I was fine with it... Until about 5:45pm. When I hear - giggling. Girl giggling. Girlfriend giggling. What the FUCK?!? I am here working my ass off so that he can get the file in on time. Doing him a favor. Dropping all my other work because he asked, because it was the right thing to do, because I have a work ethic. And he's goofing off in his office with his girlfriend. I ask again: what the fuck?

I am beyond livid. Why in the world am I bothering to work on this so hard when he apparently is not putting in as much effort on the rest of the file to get it finished? It's his damn file. Livid. Angry to the point of shaking. LS advises me, since he's obviously not working on it, I should just close up and leave. Work on it tomorrow. Tell him tomorrow how what he did was unprofessional - asking me to do the work, to do him a favor, while he's goofing off.

So I finish the thought I was typing and am getting ready to go home. And then he appears in my door to say good night.

Me: Leave
Him: What?
Me: Leave now. I am livid beyond description with you and I can't talk to you now. I'll talk to you about it tomorrow. Leave.

He doesn't leave. Asks me what's up. If it's something we can talk about now. He won't leave. Fine. Come in. Close the door. And I lay into him. I've been working my ass off because he asked for a favor. Because he said he wanted to get the file done today. And he's in his office giggling and goofing with his girlfriend. He tries to claim that he was doing his work. That I had no idea what was going on in his office. Literally I said, and I did this in my best annoyingly cutesy girlie voice: Teeheehee. You're so funny. Heehee. *smirk* You're crazy. Then seriously: THAT is not work. He had nothing to say about that.

Let the backpedaling begin!! He says he knows I've been working my ass off for him, to help him get the file done. He knows that I've dropped everything. If I can't get it done today or tomorrow, get it to him by next week and he'll deal with the consequences. He doesn't want it to look like the file is late because of me and he'll deal with it. Welcome to the world where we completely miss the point! AND in NO universe would the lateness of this file be because of me.

Me: You don't understand this. And you probably won't understand this until you get screwed. But perception has a lot to do with how people see you, what they think of you. What you present. No, I don't know exactly what's going on in your office. But I know what I heard, and it wasn't work. It's the impression I got. And I'm your friend. But it makes me wonder why I'm working my ass off when you're not. And a lot of what I'm feeling and how angry I am has to do with how much I invested in this today. How much work I've done. To save your ass.
Him: I know you've been working on it. I saw that you've only been working on it. I don't know how to say it that can show you how strongly I know (note: what the hell does that even mean??). I wish there was something I could say, but I don't know what.
Me: There is nothing you can say right now to make this any better. Leave. She's waiting for you. We will talk about this more tomorrow.
Him: (while opening the door) I really wish I knew what I could say.
Me: Leave.

I rarely ever get this angry. At these times, I try to step back. Ask myself: Am I overreacting? Am I being unfair? Is this really not a big deal? What annoys me is that he doesn't get it. He has no clue, none whatsoever, why what he did was unprofessional. Why it pissed me off. If he had just left, I would not have gotten angry. I understand that he's already been there for 12 hours. I told him this. Him going home is not the point. The point is that he gave the impression that he was goofing off while I was working hard on something he gave me. Am I overreacting? Maybe. But I don't feel unjustified.

*If anyone has ever seen Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle, I basically felt like Harold did when he gets the work dumped on him to finish while his boss went out to party.

I knew I didn't want to be at work this week when...

... I sat down at my desk this morning, was relieved/annoyed it was Thursday, only to realize it was Tuesday.

Fuck.

For the love of TiVo

I love our TiVo. Why? I hate watching commercials. I want to watch my programs when I feel like it - I don't think I watched a single episode of Grey's Anatomy on Sunday. And I know I never saw InuYasha at midnight on Tuesday.

But the most recent reason why I love TiVo? The NPR podcasts. I love the radio show Wait Wait - Don't Tell Me. And now TiVo has podcasts of the episode from the previous few weeks. Which is great, because I forget to turn on the radio at 11am on Saturdays to listen. But there are a whole bunch of other catagories of podcasts, not just NPR.

Now if only they would podcast Car Talk...

Auto love

It's always funny when I read things in articles that I've said. Whenever someone gets a new car, or has an otherwise really fun car, I always ask what the car's name is. Half the time I get an answer, the other half I get a perplexed look. And I have always said that there are two categories of people: ones who name their cars (and other inanimate objects) and ones who don't. So it was funny when I began this article and read that very same quote. I always knew other people felt this way.

Well, I'm a car namer (for those who don't already know, the first car was Eva and the current one Ian). As is JS. And we name all sorts of objects - JS settled on Samantha for his Australian accented GPS. Most people I know are namers - perhaps not of the car, but of objects. And pretty much anything which appears to have some sort of intelligence, will at least get a sex assignment.

So, the question is, what category are you in?

Underwear that's fun to wear

So, what are you? Boxers? Briefs? Thong? Commando?

Bug in a bonnet

I was told something yesterday that really made my day. Apparently, I have made myself a bug up the butt of one of my companies. Why does this make me happy? This is why:

DF (team leader for particular document): I spoke to name deleted before, and she asked how the review was coming.

Me: I'm working on it.

DF: I told her you were working on it. I told her not to worry because you were good. And she said,'too good.'

*big smile from me*

This gives me great joy. One of the perks of this job is being able to tell big companies what to do. And another is to help the little guy along. But it gives me great pleasure to know that company X knows not to try and bullshit me.

Back from hiatus (i.e. the Motherland)

I love and hate going to New York. Mostly, I love it. Love seeing my family. Love seeing my friends. Love being in the old neighborhood. Love being among "my people," so to speak. Especially love the food.

Hate sleeping on the couch. Yeah, that whole crashing on the couch thing lost its appeal when the college years drifted further and further away. Why am I sleeping on the couch? My Dad no longer lives in my childhood home. He downgraded a little more than a year ago to a smaller place, because he really couldn't and didn't need to maintain the house anymore. But that also meant that he now has just enough space to be comfortable. Add one - and well, that one is uncomfortable, i.e. the couch.

I can take it for a weekend. In fact, I really don't mind it for a weekend. A week is another story. That and the no privacy remind me that, although New York City is always where I say I am "from" and I call going "home" (small H), I really no longer have a "Home" (capital H) there anymore. "Home" (capital H) is here, where I live, in Maryland, with JS and Thor. And even though I moved out of my childhood home over 10 years ago (with a brief 9 month return my final year of college), it wasn't really until early last year, when that house was sold, that I felt that final tie severed - that the definition of "Home" became more definite instead of split.

So, I've noticed that I have been saying, "I'm going to visit my Dad," or "I'm going to New York," when previously I would say, "I'm going home to see my Dad," or some such thing like that. After a week on the couch, I was really very happy to be Home, in my own bed.

Addendum: In thinking about it, the sale of my childhood home also coincided with the end of my student career. Entering the "real world" at that same time, I'm sure, contributed to that change in the "Home" status in my mind.

Workin' for a living

One of the reasons why I like my job so much is the "Any 80" policy. In short, "Any 80" means that I am allowed to work any 80 hours I choose in a two week pay period. If I work over that 80 in any pay period, I can bank the extra hours (up to 24) to use in another pay period should I need to make up time. It also means that I tend to hoard my vacation and sick days. I staunchly refuse to use them. Why? Because sick leave can be carried over ad infinitum. I can carryover up to 240 hours of vacation every year (I'm no where near that yet). Sounds sweet? Well, more like necessary, since there is no such thing as "maternity leave" where I work. So, whenever I choose to have a child, it's my own time that I have saved up that I have to use. It's the whole equity thing (there's no such thing as paternity leave, either). No bonuses for those who want to have kids over those who choose not to.

Anyway, why am I talking about this? Oh, yeah. I'm coming to NYC next week. For the whole week. And I'm trying really hard to do it without using any of my vacation days. Don't think it will work. But I'm working super-overtime this week to try. It's not really a stretch to work the long hours this week, either, since any work that's due next week or early the week after needs to be done before I leave. And I'm probably going to bring some work to NY with me too (what a loser am I?).

Well, back to work. Have to get this crap done.

Okay, I'm going to hell

But I think this shit's hilarious. I've been following along with this little article stream on Slate.com. A guy is reading the bible - every word - and summarizing what he reads and comments, and writes these entries on Slate. He's still in Genesis, talked about Sodom and Gomorrah, and is up to the sacrifice of Abraham. Some of his observations are pretty funny, some inciteful. And what's really funny is that I'm sure he'll get to plenty of stuff that they never talked about in the 13 years I was in Catholic School.

Hour 3 - I am so on Team Addison

I felt like I just took a ride on the craziest emotional rollercoaster. Meredith and Derek deserve each other. Derek certainly does not deserve Addison, because he's too wrapped up in doing what he thinks is the right thing. Problem is, in trying to do the "right thing," he ends up doing it all wrong. Same with Meredith. Meredith sees in Derek what she figured out about the Chief. And she so desperately does not want to become her mother. I thought she had let go when she let Doc go. I was wrong. Meredith doesn't deserve Finn. Derek doesn't deserve Addison. And Derek is to chicken-shit to tell Addison the truth.

Christina Yang has lost her edge, she says. "I will not be responsible for making you less human," the Chief tells her. And we've seen it. She got scared. She ran. She didn't have the answers. And in the end, it was okay. Because she took Burke's hand. And that's the only answer she needed.

Karev put his issues aside to care for Izzy. And it's more obvious to me than ever that he actually cares for Izzy. He didn't say what he said for his own benefit. It wasn't selfish. He said it because it was the truth. And he tells the truth. But this time, it was a real truth. Something more true about Denny than I thought possible to come out of his mouth. And he said it, not for himself, but for Izzy.

George has gotten stronger and stronger. And he tells Callie the truth. She's in love. He's not there yet. And he was man enough to tell her the truth. To not run.

I will continue to say over and over just how awesome Bailey is. She rocks. Because she doesn't take crap. But she cares for her interns. Truly cares. She's a softy behind it all. She is more human and more real. And she, in times most insane, keeps it together.

I have to watch it again. Have to.

Addendum:
1) I love the look Callie gives to Derek when she finds them.
2) Burke went to Hopkins!! YAY!!!

Hour 1.5

So I'm watching the Grey's Anatomy 3 hour season finale. I'm at hour 1.5 and I'm freaking out. My heart nearly dropped out of my chest at the end of hour 1. I started crying at about 15 minutes into hour 2. Breaking for dinner because I'm freaking out.

More science

This time from the world of physics. Yeah, I'm totally science geeky these days...

A week behind

Okay, so I'm a week behind on Grey's Anatomy. This will be remedied. But it took me until last night to see the episode about being "Scary and Damaged." And there are a lot of things that could be said, but I'll refain until I see the two parter from this week. SA, I took a peek at your "summary." Oh-my-God - I thought I was on a freakin' rollercoaster. I can't wait.

More to come soon...

Muscle soreness

Okay, I'm on a science kick these days... but there are a lot of interesting things coming up recently, so please bear with me.

I read this interesting article about lactic acid. We all learned over the years that lactic acid buildup in the muscle was bad - caused cramping, soreness, etc. Turns out, that theory was completely wrong. Lactic acid is, in fact, fuel for the muscle. And that endurance trained athletes are more efficient in the use of lactic acid during exercise and competition. It all has to do with the mitochondria in the muscle cells. The more endurance trained you are, the more transport molecules are produced to transport the lactic acid into the muscle for fuel.

Well, there goes another thing that we can blame for crappy workouts.

Scientific ethics

This morning, it was reported that the South Korean scientist, hailed for successfully cloning human stem cells only to be disgraced as a fraud, was indicted "on charges of fraud, embezzlement and bioethics violations in a scandal over faked stem cell research." Five members of his lab were indicted on lesser charges. This is very important. I don't know what the precedent is, but I don't recall a case where a scientist has been legally charged with fraud, at least not in the US - I'm not sure about other countries, as this case is (if someone can come up with one, please let me know). But this case was huge. The claims made in the article were huge, thus being proved fraudulent was enormous.

The thing that disturbed me initially when the fraud was exposed was how Dr. Hwang tried to blame his researchers. How he said that he did not realize they had made up the data. Which may be true. I have known many PI's who have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on in the lab - they are too busy grant writing, or on travel, etc. But the work that comes from a lab is the work of the PI. The PI, who generally does not touch an experiment, is the one who gets the acclaim, elevating the status of the lab in general. So the lack of responsibility taken really bothered me.

The other thing that bothered me was how this example called into question, once again, the peer review process in scientific publishing. Scientists are self-criticized, self-edited. But there in an inherent trust that the data being presented is truthful. The data is scrutinized, but rarely, if ever, are lab notebooks of the raw data requested and cracked open to check if what is reported was what was actually observed. When scrutiny is increased, the dissemination of scientific information is slowed. When it is lax, false information is published to the detriment of the rest of the scientific community. When seemingly large breakthroughs occur, however, it's easy to get overexcited and miss what can sometimes be obvious.

Scientists reputations are based on their integrety. When something is proven fraudulent, careers can be ruined, not only for the PI but also for the people in the lab, past and present. Having been a lab for the majority of the last decade, reports like this are still very close to my heart.

Time crunch

My job is one primarily based on deadlines. We get documents in, they are date stamped, and depending on the kind of document, they will fall into a specific timeline for completion. For the past couple of months, I have been loaded. Everyone here has. And my timelines have all seemed to converge on these past 2 weeks, many on May 1. And it hasn't ended yet.

Meeting deadlines is of utmost importance around here. We miss one, and it automatically means a company can start working on something by default. It's written into the rules. The onus is on us to get shit done.

What gets me is when we don't have cooperation from the companies. It's Corporate America. It's all about the bottom line for them. Get it, get it fast, get it cheap, cut as many corners as you can. But I need to be the skeptic. I was hired to be the skeptic. And I don't give a shit about the bottom line. It's not my job to pander to the companies. It's not my job to make it easy on them.

But it is part of my job to not be "burdensome." That's the buzzword. And that's what gets thrown back at us all the time. What we're asking for is "overly burdensome," or some shit like that. It means that the information I am asking for is not pertinent to whether we should say yes or no; that it's not necessary to give for some reason. Most of the time the reason is the bottom line. And, to me, that's not a good reason. Why should we not spend the money necessary to prove that things are safe for the public? Answer: Because it cuts into the profits.

My job is to keep people safe. I have to keep reminding myself of that when Corporate America tries to tell me that I'm just being picky. I have to remind myself of that as I'm trying my damndest to finish things on time, so I don't miss anything that could cause problems later.

On friendships, revisited

I may have made a post or two about the subject of friendships, but I feel the need to revisit the subject. I am a lucky person because of the friendships that I have. I feel fortunate that I have friends from different stages of my life, who I know will always be there for me as much as I for them. I never made friends easily. I've always been a little shy (all of you stop laughing right now!) and guarded. I don't trust easily and it takes a little while for me to open up. So when I do, it means a lot. On the other side of that, when the trust is broken, it's very hard to mend. I can be very forgiving, but I also become cautious.

I give people chances to show that, perhaps, whatever happened, whatever they said, was an isolated thing. I have no problems saying that I am at fault for something, so I generally (and naively) believe that others would be the same. I have come to learn over time that this is definitely not true. It takes a self-reflective person to admit that s/he may be at fault. To see that there are consequences, however intentional or unintentional, to their actions. That when asked about it, that person can look within him/herself, honestly, and see things from another point of view, rather than coming up with excuses or saying such things as, "I'm sorry that you feel that way but..." I hear something like that, hear the excuses and can see more clearly that person's character. People generally become defensive when they have something to hide, particularly when they are not being attacked.

I give chances, but only for so long. A person can disappoint me only so many times before I give up, resign to the fact that what s/he is showing is the reality, and not what was there before. People can change. I truly believe that. But it'll take a while for me to believe that the changes are real. One cannot be friends with someone with whom they lack respect and trust. Nothing can move forward otherwise.

So I feel blessed for the friends I have, for the ones who have always been there and I know will always be. I grieve for those who I thought were friends, but over time revealed their true selves. But it lets me know, reminds me again, of what true friendship really is. And that I am truly fortunate that it exists in my life. That we all continue our journeys knowing that we will have each other for support.

Running on empty

So, this past Sunday was the Pikes Peak 10K Run, of which I had previously spoken. I didn't do too bad. I was hoping to finish it at a 10 minute/mile pace. My official results were:

1:04:39 (gun time); 1:01:06 (actual time); 9:50 (pace)

so better than I was shooting for.

Race day is such a strange thing. I've only run a couple of races. And each time, the race is the "longest distance I have ever run before," and this race was no different. I had never run more than 5 miles (we went for a 5 1/2 mile run a couple of weeks ago... I was pretty much out of gas at mile 5, and had to walk a bit at a couple of points). So the fact that I was running continuously until after mile 5 was an accomplishment in and of itself. Had my knee (damn knee) not gone out, I would have continued. But, alas, my knee did give out and I has to run/walk the last mile. But no matter. I still made pace and that makes me happy.

It gives me more confidence for the Half-marathon in September. A few more months to double the distance to, again, the "longest distance" I had ever run. There is still time. And definitely still will.

I will say one thing, and JS will attest to this: I was really out of it the rest on the day on Sunday. Electrolyte balance off or something. And have been kind of off ever since. So, I guess my body needs a re-adjustment period. Gives me a good excuse for an afternoon nap...

The rules of whining

Everyone whines or complains at some point or another for whatever reason, particularly at work. But at a certain point, if one is whining or complaining about the same thing constantly, it gets very tiresome. There are certain people who believe that everyone is out to get them. That they deserve more respect or trust or responsibility. And whine and whine that they never get it. Funny thing is, the thought never crosses their mind that, if the problem is with everyone else, perhaps they should just look in the mirror.

Which brings us to the LS's rules of whining:

1. You are allowed to whine/complain about something a couple of times. After which point, if you are unwilling to do anything to fix it, shut the hell up and deal.

2. It's not all about you. (obviously addressed to whomever is whining)

I feel the need to smack some people with whom I work with a 2x4 that has these rules engraved on it. Granted, I like nearly everyone I work with, I really do. But there are a certain few who always blame their misfortunes on other people, and it wears very thin. Particularly those who will complain then do absolutely nothing about it except to complain more. I experience this now as much as I did during grad school. I guess I was hoping that people grow out of such things. That was naive, I know. There are certain things that never change, that one will experience in all stages of life. It's life, and I have to shut up and deal with it.

*Take this as my one whine about whiners. I'll shut up now.

Running scared

... or running in pain, depending on how you look at it. I think I have mentioned that I'm running a half-marathon over Labor Day weekend. LS convinced me by saying, "Come on, it's only 13 miles." Only 13 miles she says. Sometimes I dread this decision. But I have already said I would do it, I've paid the registration, and I've never done it before, so why not? Never mind that I've never run more than 5 miles at any one given time in my life... and, did I mention - I hate running. But as I've always said: I can't spend my life avoiding all of the things I hate. Sometimes you have to, as the old Nike tag line used to say, Just Do It.

So we went running last night. For 45 minutes. So a little over 4 miles or so, assuming a 10 minute mile pace, which is just about average for me. Funny thing is, my limiting factor while running is not how bad a shape I'm in - I'm actually fine. My knee sucks. I'll be going along just fine, breathing well, not terribly tired. But my knee will be screaming at me to stop. This happened at about 1.5 to 2 miles. Walk it out a little, begin running again. It's annoying, and totally dependent on the day. If it's a little moist - great for the knee. Too dry, too cold - sucky. Last night, I felt was great running weather. Relatively cool, not too moist, not too dry, good air to breathe. Yet my knee sucked.

But I have to push on. And I'll only quit if the pain is truly unbearable. We have the Pikes Peak 10K in 2 weeks. A little over 6 miles. A little over an hour of running. The goal? Finish with enough energy to have popovers at Normandie Farms after the race. I have to set some sort of carrot in front of me, don't I?

Sushi and sake

This weekend is the end of the annual National Cherry Blossom Festival. A few years ago, they began holding the "Grand Sushi and Sake Tasting" during the festival. And for the first couple of years, I tried to get tickets far too late. Last year, JS, SA, and I went to, what we thought, was this event. And while we learned a lot about premium sakes, it was not what we expected.

This year, I checked the Cherry Blossom website at regular intervals to be sure that I would not miss when the tickets for this event went on sale. Well, we got tickets, and the event was this evening. And it was fantastic. The sushi chefs who were serving the masses had, this afternoon, competed in a sushi chef competition. We were served by both the first and second place chefs this evening. There were tables of sake. At least two dozen different brands and varieties. Had we more time, and no drive home, I'm sure we would have sampled more.

The final part of the evening, which JS and I agreed topped everything off, were the Japanese drumming group. Taiko is traditional Japanese Drumming - it's rhythmic, athletic, visual, emotional... I could keep going on. I've always loved Taiko and have had only a few opportunities to see it live, and never as close up as tonight. JS and I were ready to leave and decided we would stay for one song. Then another. Then another. I could have kept watching and listening. The group had two honored guests with them this evening - two very accomplished Taiko drummers, one of whom was a founding member of Soh Daiko, the only Taiko group I can remember by name. Watching these two men drumming with this amazing coordination was such a visual and auditory treat.

We had such a good time tonight. It's one thing to have the expectation that an evening will be fun. It's an entirely different thing to have that expectation met and exceeded. We're going back to this event every year from now on if we can help it. Any takers to come next year? Just let us know!!

The world's foremost expert on everything

I am not one to eavesdrop on conversations at restaurants, but sometimes I just can't help it. Las night JS and I went out for Indian food and at the next table was apparently the "World's Foremost Expert on Everything." Let me explain - the guy at the next table was having a very loud and one-sided conversation with his dinnermates about just what a wonderful person he was. He knew about everything. He was in insurance (not sure what, but he gets to deal with people and loves talking - as if that wasn't obvious). He was also an EMT, a fireman - "I always have my gear with me... in case I need to jump in and help." A FEMA expert - "Well, when the Hurricanes happened in New Orleans, the problem they had was..." And a number of other things that I can't even remember. He just kept talking and talking and talking. Talking himself up so much that I thought he must have been some sort of stud or something.

Well, when he got up with his dinnermates to leave, I turned around to see for myself what this man of amazing skills looked like... honestly, no joke, he looked like a gnome minus the beard. After leaving, JS and I saw him running by (we were sitting by the window) toward his car. JS burst out, "RUN FOREST RUN!" At which point, the couple at the next table burst out laughing. We had a nice laugh over it - it was good to know that it wasn't just us.

One step closer

I have been at my job for one year. And at one year, there are two choices: step increase or grade increase. Step increases are automatic, based on the amount of time on the job. Grade increases are not - they have to be approved by one's supervisor. And although everyone around me kept telling me that there was no way I was not going to get a grade increase, I wasn't going to bank on it.

Well, on Tuesday, one of the managers (not my direct supervisor) came into my office to hand me something and happily states, "Congratulations on your promotion!"

Me: I got my promotion?
Him: You didn't know?
Me: No one told me...
Him: (as he's walking out of my office) Oops...

"Oops," that was classic. I was really happy, but curious as to why I didn't hear it from my direct supervisor first. Well, she came in yesterday to confirm that I did, indeed, get my promotion. And that it was her intent to tell me had the other one not spilled the beans first. Oops, indeed.

So I have taken one step closer... to what, exactly, I'm not sure. But it's been taken.

Test drive

So, we have already talked about how JS got his driver's license. As with all things that take a long time to obtain, once obtained, one generally runs with it! Which, in this case meant, JS really, REALLY wanted to get a car.

Once he started researching, however, he found that it's a really shitty market for cars, particularly used cars. Really high resale values, high interest rates, limited selection, etc... really the worst kind of market for cars. What kind of car to buy? What year? What color? The initial idea was to get a Civic EX, like Ian (if you don't already know, that's the name of my car). JS had gotten used to driving Ian around while preparing for his test. We test drove one beautiful '03 Civic EX Coupe - in nearly perfect condition. The one problem was that it was selling for only about $1000 less than what we had paid for Ian... for a now 3 year old car. We decided we should keep looking, keep our options open.

We went to a dealership to look at an '04 Civic Coupe, mysteriously selling for the same price as the '03 we tested... and once we saw the car, it was no longer a mystery. Bad ju-ju all around from this car. A few dents, scrapes, etc... but the feeling was bad. The parking break stuck, incidental parts were missing (small panel covers, etc.). JS told the man that he didn't even want to bother with it. The dealer tried to show us another Civic. No go... not what we're looking for.

While wandering around the lot, pretty much feeling like we should leave, I pass by an '04 Mazda 3. The Mazda 3 had been the darkhorse choice, as we knew very little about it, and there seemed to be very few used ones available. And those used ones that were available were way out of the pricerange. Yet, there were two of them, twins, both silver, sitting right there, next to each other. We wanted to take one out (the one with fewer scratches), but first we asked what the dealer was willing to part with it for. The dealer told us a too-good-to-be-true price... time for a test drive.

JS started it up and we had that feeling that this car was meant for him - there were blue lights. We exit the lot onto MD355. As he's accelerating, the engine is revving very high - too high... what the hell?!?! Why aren't we shifting into gear?!?! What's wrong with the transmission?!?! We pull over into a random parking lot to switch places and figure out what's going on... Yeah, it's an automatic, so what the hell is up? Hrmmm... why is the shifter on "M" instead of "D"? What we did not realize is that Mazda's are equipped with sport manual - for those who want to feel like they're in control - the car is still electronically controlled. But that explained why we weren't shifting into gear. Well, that figured out and me in the driver's seat, we took this little puppy for a drive. And loved it. JS took over after a few minutes. Short jaunt on the highway and we were convinced - this car was definitely meant for him.

So with little hesitation, after confirming that the dealer was, indeed, serious about the price, we signed the dotted line.

So now, without further ado, I introduce MAX:




Doesn't Max have a cute butt?

Update: Blood and sweat

Unfortunately, there are no updates... it's been a week since this whole thing began, and I haven't heard a thing.

In the meantime... an image, courtesy of PhD Comics:

Blood and sweat

I have discussed multiple times the elation I felt when I completed my PhD. It was a lot of work, but in the end I joke about what it got me: three letters after my name, a piece of paper in a frame which basically says that I was in school for a really long time, and a book (my dissertation). My Dad asked me when I presented him with a copy of my thesis whether anyone would read it or buy it. I told him, honestly, that we write and bind these things and they generally sit on a shelf in a library collecting dust. No one will read it. And certainly no one would buy it - I didn't think they could even be sold. That is, until I got this email from LJR:

"This is really creepy - I was googling my name to see if my new website was showing up yet, and found this.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000EOUOFI/104-2407611-6118346?v=glance&n=551440

and

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000EQIW9Q/qid=1143229077/sr=1-1/ref=sr_1_1/104-2407611-6118346?s=books&v=glance&n=551440

What do you think? Any idea how our dissertations wound up online for sale at Amazon?"

WHAT?!?! My dissertation is on sale on AMAZON!?!?!

Needless to say, I was a little disturbed. Here is my work, of which I always joke that no one cares, on which I spent a quarter of my life thus far working, on sale, without my knowledge. I called my department and reported this finding, and there are many people looking into it. JS called thedistributorr and they told him that I had signed a release when I gave my dissertation to Hopkins. And apparently, after $100 in sales, I get a 10% royalty. The dissertation is copyrighted to me. I remember signing a whole bunch of papers when I gave in my dissertation, one of which was about creating an electronic copy for the library, but I don't remember signing anything about selling it. It's also possible that I did, I haven't a clue. It was over a year ago, and I was so happy to be done, that I'm not sure I would remember anyway.

A lot of emails have been sent. No one in my department knew about any of this. They wrote to the library. The person they contacted didn't seem to know anything. She's going to contact her boss. And up the chain it goes. The fact that no one seems to know anything yet disturbs me - it all seems kind of shady. Particularly since LJR said that she didn't find the dissertations of any of our other classmates on Amazon. Whether or not I signed over the publication rights, which is still in debate, I would have like to have been informed that my work is publicly for sale. I feel disturbed and violated.

"There comes a time when we all must choose between what is right and what is easy." Albus Dumblebore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

One year

It has been one year since my new beginnings. Today is the one year anniversary of the day I started my fabulous job. One year since I've begun the stage in my life where, for the first time, I truly feel like an adult.

A lot has happened in this past year. There has been a lot of happiness. There has been a lot of pain. There has been a lot of learning. For 25 years of my life, I was defined as a student, in some form or another. Grade school, high school, college, grad school. I look back at those years, particularly at grad school, and though they are still fresh in my mind, they feel like an eternity ago.

I feel like I have grown this year by leaps and bounds. And the more I grow, the more I see in front of me... 'the journey' is long and continuous. The more answers I feel like I am getting just generate more intricate questions. And these questions further me on 'the journey.' I have stated previously how I feel about 'the journey.' And a lot of the time I do feel like it sucks - why can't I find the answers? Why do the questions keep coming? Why does the journey contain so much pain? How can I get inexorable joy and happiness and is it even possible?

I have caused more pain to others this past year than I ever thought I could. And, in looking at myself, I realized that the pain I caused, I was reflecting from within myself. And that, until I came to terms with myself and my own issues, I can never be as loving as I could be to others. I thought I was unapologetically happy and yet, there were times, I was apologizing for my happiness.

I've tried to live much more fully and honestly. And I have discovered the power of not accepting bullshit. From myself or others, but especially from myself. And that is really what has made me much happier. That I can say more honestly what I feel. That I am less inclined to run from confrontation (although there are times when I do still run - I'm working on it). That I can work to clear away all that is unimportant and see all the things that really matter.

My life has been blessed with so many wonderful people. And have received more love than I sometimes think I deserve. I still try hard to live without regrets for life and for love. But to believe that nothing can be changed once something is done is foolish. I don't regret decisions. But I can admit, more openly, when I am wrong and do all that I can to fix it. And if whatever it is cannot be repaired, I know that I have tried. I will not be complacent.

Sleep eating...

I am so glad that I am no longer an insomniac. For the entire span of my graduate studies, all 7 years, I did not get a full, uninterrupted night of sleep. Not one. I would just wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes several times, for sometimes no reason at all. However, through all of it, I never invested in any kind of sleep aid. Why? 1) I hate taking drugs. I avoid it as much as possible. 2) For reasons like this.

I've heard of some strange/scary side effects from drugs before - but sleep eating? Not only just sleep eating, but gorging, ravenously. And then not remembering the next morning.

No cause has been found for sleep-related eating disorder, but Dr. Schenck says he believed that it happened when the brain confuses two basic instincts: sleeping and eating. "Those two become linked," he said. "In the sleep stage you eat. I think two instinctual behaviors become intertwined."

So strange. I would love to see what the brain scans of these people while they are in this state. It must be very strange to wake up in the morning with a Snickers bar in your hand, not knowing where it came from. I guess the cupboards and fridge should be locked up before bedtime.

What happens in Vegas...

... stays in Vegas

Identity: Sigmund the Underwear Model from Zimbabwe
Visit: 4 days, 3 nights
Gambling balance sheet: -$0-

Everything else is between me and those who witnessed it...


Addendum: I am also minus 1 pair of pleather pants.

Astrological coincidence

JS and I were in the car the other day, casually chatting about random stuff. Our impeding trip to Vegas to celebrate SA's upcoming 30th birthday, my Dad's upcoming 80th birthday, which happens to be the day after, etc. JS then says, "My Dad's birthday was yesterday." I asked if he called his mom - he had just talked to her the day before, so all was good. Then, I had a thought...

Me: When is your Mom's birthday?
JS: September ... (I don't remember the date he said). Why? When is your Mom's birthday?
Me: September 15th
JS: Huh. So that makes both our Dads Pisces. Both our Moms Virgos... And we're BOTH Sagittarians! Holy crap!

I'm laughing at this point

JS: How did it take over 9 years of being together and 15 years of knowing each other to figure THAT out??

How did it take that long? It's strange the things that are overlooked. I always knew our parent's birthdays were near each other. And the fact that we are both Sagittarians was never a secret. It's funny how these connections are there and evident but not observed, until one random conversation in the car.

Life is a journey...

... and the journey sucks. But its a lot better than the destination.

And we'll have fun, fun, fun...

'til my daddy takes my T-bird away...

Or maybe not. But now it is a possibility for JS, who yesterday, after many unexpected delays, passed his driver's skills test.

Hooray!

Now a licensed driver, JS can conquer the open road... or, in a more accurate description of driving down here, JS can try to thwart Satan's Circle, aka the DC Beltway.

Congratulations, my darling. Freedom of movement is now granted by the State of Maryland. Use it well.

Karma, part II

Okay, MS. I agree with a lot of your points. And lots of bad things happen to "good" people and vice versa. And that everyone's yardstick is different. But my hope is that, out there, through whatever trials there are, some balance may be struck. (Sorry, that bit of Eastern Philosophy that probably comes with the genes.)

Granted, life is hard. And life rarely seems fair. But I am with you in trying to put as much positive energy in the world. And hope that the positive energy breeds more positive energy. Is it wrong to hope that the good you do and the love that you give will bring good to you? And not because that's what you're looking for, but just because? That there are consequences for every action, no matter how mundane. Is Karma all that much different than "do unto others?"

I know that my life and hardships will never compare to that of most people in this world. It would be foolish to believe so. I have had it good in the grand scheme of things. And I am always grateful for all that I have, most especially the people I love. But it helps me, in some small way, to believe that the pendulum will eventually swing back when things seem to be down.

How can one believe in Karma and practice medicine? - as Cristina Yang said. That's probably one of the reasons I could not practice medicine. I would think too many things are unfair.

And just as a note: The small part of me that believes in reincarnation is sure that I will come back in my next life as a lab mouse.

Karma

I think most everyone who know me know that I am very particular about what I watch on television. Well, I don't watch television anymore... I TiVo everything, because I hate commercials. Anyway, there are a select few shows that make it onto the TiVo. And some of them remain on the TiVo completely unwatched, at least for the moment (ahem, Desperate Housewives - I'm waiting for the whole season to be done so I can watch them all in one shot). To my utter surprise, the one show I did not expect to become hooked on has made a permanent appointment in my TiVo - Grey's Anatomy.

This week's episode was about Karma - good Karma, bad Karma. Life's unfairness... how things never turn out just how you imagine they would be. How good people seem to get crap and the not-so-good walk around content. How things always seem to, no matter how long ago they may have happened, come back and bite you in the ass (or in Addison's case, the vah-jay-jay, as Bailey calls it). Or that a bad experience may have helped you dodge a bullet later on.

I believe in karma. I always talk about "karmic retribution," the idea that every bad action you make will cause something bad to happen to you. But that's the negative spin on it... and mostly something I joke about. Seriously, though, I believe that there needs to be a balance. People who have had it way too easy early in life, who walk around believing the world is their oyster, will go through periods where things are completely unfair, where they can't seem to catch a break, get a date, make a deadline, whatever. People who have been through crap, where nothing seems to go right for a long time, will come to a point where things are good - and because of the bad, they truly appreciate it. And the pendulum always swings.

I have, by no means, lived a charmed life. But I believe that the hell and pain of graduate school (and all the things that happened in my life during that period) is being paid off by the happiness I have now in work and life in general. And I know that hard work helped to get me here. And whether it's deserved or not, I appreciate it all the more, I think, because I've experienced some every negative things. And I also know, that while I was in that negative place, I did not believe that it could get any better - I could not see the positive that would eventually come from it.

I know that the pendulum is still swinging. And that eventually, it will swing back in the other direction. But the balance is needed. People cannot appreciate the good without the bad... or else they begin to believe that they are entitled. And I never want to feel that way.

Cold warmth...

... and I can't deal!! Okay, so we get the snowfall of the century (or at least you would think it was, by the way the news was going on) on Saturday-Sunday. Lots of snow... lots of fun. I even built a little snowman on my balcony (from a "Snowman in a Box Kit (just add snow) courtesy of TC). I can deal with the cold if there is snow on the ground. It just seems to make the cold worth while.

What I can't deal with is the fact that yesterday, a mere 4 days after this snow, it was over 60 degrees outside. Why can't I deal? Why can't I just enjoy the lovely weather? Well I could if my sinuses didn't rebel every time there is drastic weather change! I would enjoy it if the weather didn't turn my winter wonderland into a slushy, muddy mess. Having snow then 60 degree weather in the span of 4 days is just not natural.

Okay, I'll stop complaining now. In the meantime, here's a picture of a snowman:

Year of the Dog

Chinese New Year Day was this past Sunday. It's the first time in a long while where I was able to be with my family for new year's eve dinner - in Chinatown, no less, so I had a really good weekend. Top that with a 2 hour yum cha on Sunday morning with friends, and I couldn't ask for anything more.

Chinese New Year is probably my favourite holiday - a combination of New Year, 4th of July and Christmas (well, at least for us unmarried folks). It's loud, people are happy, and we eat. We walk around Chinatown taking in the colors and sound. Get Hong Kong Cakes from a cart on the street - a treat that I have far too infrequently. And I remember all the places from my childhood, places that are still there and places gone for who knows how long. It was good to be there during New Year's Eve and Day. I'm not sure when it will happen the next time.

The celebration begins on the new moon and continues until the next full moon - so a 15 day holiday. Gung Hay Fat Choi!

Lion Dance (a little blurry, but what can you expect from a camera phone)

Do you hear what I hear?

I am always interested and amused by strange research. Having been a lowly PhD student for a *ahem* few years, I have run across all sorts of interesting (to put it mildly) research - things I have read in journals, seen at conferences, read in newsclippings, etc. And in seeing all the different things being researched, I have become convinced that ANYTHING will be funded as long as there is one person interested.

Genetics has always produced a great deal of interesting work, especially recently with the "completion" of the Human Genome Project. Completion is a relative term, because even though the genome is mapped, people are still trying to figure out what these genes do. (I personally don't believe the project is truly complete until they figure that portion of it out... but I digress.) Anyway, with a map of genes available, geneticists have been able to determine such important things such as the genes which, when mutated, could cause cancer.

So when I saw a news article entitled, "Scientists Find Gene That Controls Type of Earwax in People," my interest was a little more than peaked. Who researches this kind of thing? Why earwax? There are apparently two types of earwax - wet and dry (who knew?) - which are controlled by a specific gene. According to researchers, a single DNA change causes the inactivation of an export mechanism in cells, therefore resulting in dry earwax. Wet earwax is prevalent in the African and European populations, while dry earwax is dominant in East Asians. There is also apparently a correlation between the type of earwax, sweat and armpit odor, where those who have dry earwax tend to have sweat less and have little to no body odor. Eeeen-ter-est-ink

What does this mean for the rest of us? What can we do with this information? Who the heck knows. Maybe at some point there will be gene therapy for people with really bad BO. I think that would be a great step forward for humanity. It will at least make riding in a packed subway a little less gross.

Open that big mouth

There is something infinitely satisfying about saying exactly what is on your mind. I have been trying to do this lately - without being mean or snide, and only somewhat sarcastic, and let me say, it has made me a much happier person.

It's very difficult in general to be honest with yourself. I've had that problem and still occasionally do, but I'm getting better. The difficulty in being honest with yourself is that you have to be inherently self-reflective. I have recently come to the conclusion that one's level of maturity is coincident with the level of self-reflection one engages in. Why? Because in self-reflection, one learns not to point fingers, to honestly evaluate not only what one feels but also why, to expect the same from oneself as from others. It is easy to say, "I don't like it when YOU do that." How easy is it to say, "I don't like it when I do that?"

And in being honest with myself, it becomes much easier to be honest with others. I can get past ego and arrogance, learn to not take myself too seriously, learn to take criticism as something other than a personal attack. Because there is always more that I can learn from others - even the way not to do something. I have gained confidence and learned humility. I don't always need to have the last word. I can be wrong and say so without shame or anger or resentment. I try very hard not to say, "I told you so," because I know how much worse it can make things.

In trying to be more honest with myself, I have also noticed that I take much less bullshit from others. I no longer deal with petty behaviour. I will not allow someone else to accuse me of anything just because it eases his/her own mind. And I will call someone on his/her bullshit, just as I would expect to be called on mine. I am a friend and not a mindless cheerleader, which means I will express my opinion and not be afraid to disagree or be disagreed with. But even my friend disagrees with my opinion, I will give my 100% support because that is what friends do. And I am always trying to be a better friend.

Who was it who said that sometimes it's harder to make the right decisions? I guess it's the same person who said that it's impossible to be truly honest with others if you are not honest with yourself. I think those two thoughts go hand in hand... and that if I work to be more honest with myself, that the right decisions may become easier. Or at least that's the hope.

The New Year Cometh

It's the beginning of 2006. And as such, a time to reflect on the last year and look forward to the next...

I don't make New Year's resolutions. I don't because I believe that if you want to do something to improve yourself, you should just resolve to do it, whenever that may be. People make all sorts of resolutions at the New Year, only to have them fail before then end of January. Why is that? It just becomes expected and cliche. Losing weight, learning a new language, eating better, exercise, blah blah blah. It's trite.

There were a few things that I had decided to do this year long before New Year's Eve:

- I am going to run a half marathon with LS (who convinced me by saying, "come on, it's only 13 miles!" which I somehow thought was reasonable). As a prelude to this, we are going to run a marathon as part of a 4 person relay team (so 6.5 miles).

- I will re-learn to speak French (not that I was any good at it to begin with). I began this last year and will continue on this year.

- I am going to start climbing again and get as many people as possible to join me.

- I will become comfortable enough riding a motorcycle and try to save enough to purchase one.

These are things that I thought of as general things I want to do. It doesn't necessarily matter if they are accomplished within the timeframe of this year. As with everything, actions which promote self-improvement, whether successful or not, always further the mind and the spirit... boy, talk about cliche.

But... I don't have a lawn

Happy Holidays to all! During every holiday season, as we give and receive gifts, there are always the ones that you look at and just go: HUH? In my family, I'm always the one who gets that gift. I always seem to have the weird Christmas gift story.

BACKGROUND: Three years ago, I got, possibly, the worst Christmas gift in history - this is no exaggeration. My sister's family gave me... wait for it... a tissue box. Your eyes do not deceive you, I indeed got a tissue box - with a Mickey Mouse car cover on it. There have been many theories abound as to why I received a tissue box. Regardless, I got no explanation, so there it is... and my sister appears to have been making up for it ever since, as her subsequent gifts for birthdays and Christmases have progressively gotten better or more fun.

Anyway, that was just the background. Everyone knows about the tissue box, so when I arrived for Christmas dessert at TC's mom's place and announced that I had a weird Christmas gift story, everyone at once replied: AGAIN??

After Christmas Eve dinner, my family retired back to my Dad's place to finish opening gifts. My oldest brother left presents for my dear brother and sister-in-law, J and Ang, and for me. Now, our older brother is generally off the mark with Christmas gifts - J and I usually end up swapping. I open my gift, stare at it curiously... Ang asks what it is. As if I wouldn't have one, a 3 cup rice cooker, like the free gift you get from the bank when you open a savings account. I'm a Chinese girl who has been living away from my parents for over 10 years - why wouldn't I have a rice cooker? Well, I said to J and Ang that if they wanted, we could swap. They open their gift - a DVD player. There seems to be a disparity in the quality of the gifts. We ended up swapping since J and Ang have 2 DVD players and one of ours is dying. Well, good.

Now time for the gifts from my Dad's wife. My gift is rather large - a box about 4ft x 2ft big. I tear the wrapping off curiously... and stare unbelievingly.

Ang: What is it?
Me: A lawn reindeer. (Note: not only is it a lawn reindeer, but it's one of those with a moving head... so a really quality lawn reindeer)
Ang and J: WHAT?
Me: It's a lawn reindeer... I don't have a lawn. Do you want it?
Ang: Let's open ours and maybe we can switch.

J and Ang open their gift - a silver coffee server set (coffee pot, sugar bowl, creamer, and tray).

J: This is nice. Ang, should we switch?
Ang: It doesn't matter to me. We'll have two creamers and sugar bowls.

(and because J is always funniest when he doesn't mean to be)

J: Yeah, but look at coffee pot. It's nice. We don't have a coffee pot... (looks at the lawn reindeer)... But we DO have a lawn.

This was the point that Ang and I start hysterical laughing - uncontrollably. And in his confusion as to what is so funny...

J: What? What's so funny? I mean... we do have a lawn!

Well, there was a bit of debate as to what to do with the lawn reindeer. But in the end, J and Ang decided to give it a home at their new house.

So, just in case the image isn't clear in the mind, here it is:




Note: There was a suggestion from P-boy that we just take the head out and mount it on the wall like some prized game, being sure that the animation still works... just to freak people out.