Oh Joy, Oh Rapture!

Down here in Maryland, there is a very large population of Christians, particularly the kind that CawfeeGuy likes to refer to as "Crazy Christers." How do I know? When driving around, I observe many a car with those fishies (which, by the way, I'm particularly fond of the Darwin parody. There are also the stupid bumper stickers which say "Warning: In case of Rapture, this car will be unmanned" or something to that effect. For those who don't know what the Rapture is, it's the idea that when the judgement comes, the believers will be taken to Heaven, body and soul.

Anyway, JS and I were chatting yesterday while he was sitting in particularly bad traffic. Or rather, what was supposed to have been bad traffic according to the radio, but it was, in fact, eerily quiet. So, the obvious question was, where the f*uck is everyone? OH MY GOD, the RAPTURE occurred! Well, we were joking that's what happened. Then JS came up with this for a bumper sticker:

I hope this Rapture thing happens soon.
My commute would be so much easier!

Maybe we should get that one made.

There are so many things which disturb me about this...

But one of the things that disturbs me the most is the fact that the doctor made her diagnosis of ADHD and bipolar based mainly on the mother's description of the child's behaviour and behaviour "briefly observed" during office visits.

I could go on a tirade about the fact that people are over-medicating their children. I could go on and on about the fact that the majority of the psychotropic medications out there were never tested on children and that the long term effects of taking such powerful drugs are not known. I could go on and on about how temper tantrums and misbehaviour are part of childhood.

We live in a fast paced world and it's hard to keep up. It's always been hard to keep up with children, and life does not make it any easier these days. But parents are supposed to protect their children. Not give them a pill to keep them quiet when it's inconvenient.

It's easy to say that the parents were not well educated and didn't know any better. But judging from the fact that the mother kept going back for more and more pills... I personally believe there is no doubt she knew what she was doing.

What do you want to do when you grow up?

A couple of months ago, I was invited to give a talk to future biomedical engineers at Hopkins. The talk is for a class called "BME in the Real World" and happens to be tomorrow. I was told I can pretty much talk about whatever it is I wanted, so long as it has to do with how I ended up where I am.

Well, as I was putting together my presentation, it got me thinking about it all. When I was really young, I wanted to be a teacher, because that's the only thing I ever saw women doing back then. My Mom made clothes for a living, and I didn't see myself doing that. As I got older, I wanted to be a doctor - a radiologist to be exact. I knew even then that I would not have a good bedside manner. Then I wanted to cure the common cold, then cancer. Then I went to engineering school for no other reason at the time other than I was really good at math and physics. Then I wanted to go to grad school - partially because I wanted to hold off getting a real job and partially because I didn't feel like I was finished learning yet.

When I entered grad school, I had dreams of finishing in 5 years, doing a post-doc and becoming a professor. Doing great research. Having my name published and becoming a world renowned expert at ... well, something. Then getting the Ph.D. became a means to an end. I no longer wanted to do great research and learned, through my TA experience, that I really do love teaching (hey, we're back to wanting to teach again). That was truly the most satisfying part of my grad school life - watching students learn. But I no longer wanted to jump through the rest of the hoops to get there - it was too unsatisfying, too scary and too depressing.


So I am here. And I love my job and get great satisfaction from it. I have yet to be bored with anything that I do. There are annoyances, as with everything. And there are days I don't want to come. But, for the most part, I like it here. And I will probably continue to like it until I no longer have anything to learn.

A long time ago, I figured out that I am happiest so long as I am learning. If I ever get to the point where I feel I have nothing more to learn, I know I need a change. I knew it was time to wrap up my Ph.D. when I hit that point. I have not yet hit that point here. I'm not sure I will anytime soon. Which is good, I suppose, cuz I like it here.

Happy Birthday MS!

Another year of absolute fabulousness past. Many, many, MANY more to come!

It's a man's world... but does it have to be?

Every once in a while I read an article about the state of women in leadership and I get depressed about how much further we need to go. Whether it's women in high level positions in business, university, professorships, whatever. A few months ago, there was an article in the NY Times which talks about the fact that, even though the female undergraduate population in sciences and engineering are increasing, the number of tenured female professors has remained stagnant. The general frustration that women scientists and engineers feel in trying to get ahead - having to work harder, prove themselves more, but skirting the edge of being called a bitch for being too ambitious.

Today, a new survey shows that men and women still prefer being bossed by a male versus female. The survey found "a bonanza of stereotypes among those polled, with many using the optional comment section to label women 'moody,' 'bitchy,' 'gossipy' and 'emotional.' The most popular term for woman, used 347 times, was "catty.'" I find these descriptors interesting, since when you ask about males who are not fit to lead the words that usually come up are "unprofessional," "unproductive" and the like. At least in my experience.

I do admit that when a male colleague is being whiny or annoying, I usually say he is "acting like a girl." Maybe I should put that away. The funny thing is, at my job, all the way up the chain of command to the Office Director, the managers are all female, save one. And that one, well, he's not what I would call much of a leader in comparison to the others.

It's hard. I happen to be in a career path where, as a female, I have always been the minority. Yet I work in a place where a great majority of the managers are female. What does that say? It's all still progressing. The majority of people surveyed had no preference of male or female. And there is still hope despite the closing comment of the article:

“As liberated as I consider myself to be, I think I’d have a problem taking orders from a woman.”

I need a Hiro...

There are very few shows that I watch on TV. It's pretty obvious that Grey's Anatomy is one of them. One show I haven't talked about is Heroes. CawfeeGuy posted about it a while back.


Tonight, there was a hell of a cliffhanger. A lot of shit was revealed, a whole bunch of answers and a whole shit load more questions. How far into the future did Hiro and Ando teleport? How is Linderman tied into it all? Does he run the "Company?" Is he opposed to them? How much does Peter and Nathan's Mother actually know? Will Mohindar die, or at least quit his whining? Can they all, in fact, save the world?

And there are 6 weeks before another new episodes. SIX FREAKIN' WEEKS. Sorry. Didn't mean to shout.

You spin me right round, baby, right round

So, MS recently posted about all the annoying, over-dramatic histrionics by Meredith on Grey's Anatomy recently. Well, apparently, the "all about me" attitude exists in real life too.


Recently it was announce that Grey's would be spinning off a show centered around Addision Montgomery. Whether or not it would work, we'll have to see. But Addision is such a great character, I have mixed feelings about whether she should stay on the show or have her own. Apparently, the cast of Grey's is none too happy. Particularly Ellen Pompeo, the impossibly skinny actress who plays the impossibly whiny Meredith. I specifically find this funny:

The source adds that “Grey’s” star Ellen Pompeo “seemed particularly peeved because she felt that, as the star, she should have been consulted.”

I never really considered her the "star" of the show. I know the show is called Grey's Anatomy, but the show has such a strong ensemble cast that, depending on the storyline or episode, any one of them could be the "star." I guess I just find all the other characters just so much more interesting.

Gung Hay Fat Choi!

What a difference an hour makes

Previously, I've talked about how lucky I am to be at a job where I can basically make my own hours. It's great. I've been here for nearly two years now, my contract is about to get renewed (all the papers were signed by management, now I need to sign whenever I get them), and I really wouldn't change anything.

I generally get in about 8:30 - 9:00am and leave about 6:00pm or thereabouts everyday. Today I got in at 7:30am, since I have somewhere I need to be at 4:00pm. I didn't think it was a big deal. There was a time, way back when I started that I got in at 7:30am every single day (I was still in grad student mode) and it never bothered me. I was perfectly competent and capable from the time I got in. Today, I'm here and I'm totally useless.

At some point over the past year or so, I discovered I really like sleeping in. Not much, mind you, but just enough that I would get in about an hour later. God, I never realized how much of a difference that hour makes. I am, right now, quite literally falling asleep at my desk. What sucks is that I was asleep by 10:30pm last night, so it's not like I didn't get enough sleep. This sucks.

I'm going on a search for caffiene now... Maybe I'll have more when I'm actually awake. Then again, probably not.

I don't need to prove how big mine is because I don't have one!

So, I've apparently been drawn into a pissing contest. Over the stupidest thing. And I certainly didn't start it and have no intention of continuing it. But I've been drawn into it nonetheless.

Here's the deal. We're migrating email servers, and because of this, everyone has been told to reduce their mailboxes to below 200mb. With some of these people, this will be impossible, but that's not where I'm going. Anyway, during our Division meeting yesterday, we were chatting about ways of reducing, saving, downsizing, etc. At a certain point, MBE (the director) looks for Patsy (he's supposed to be our IT point of contact), and asks a couple of questions. Then she looks to me (who has been an unofficial point of contact for several specific people in the Division, including MBE) and asks me a few questions about setting up local folders and whatnot (something I did for her a long time ago). After a little bit of conversation, she asks me to research the problem further and to have a chat with our office IT person and get back to the Division. Now, during the entire time of our conversation, Patsy is sitting behind MBE kind of grumbling to himself - I'm guessing he was upset that I was asked to do something he technically was in charge of.

Anyway, I shoot off an email to the IT manager for the office and await a response. Before I get a chance to talk to the IT manager, Patsy has sent an email to the Division on the subject about which I was asked to research. No sooner had I read his email (and was laughing my ass off since it was clear what he was trying to do), did I get an email from the IT manager to come have a chat. To make a long story short, everything that Patsy had just advised everyone to do, the IT manager said was not advised (unless there was no choice) for a variety of reasons. As a result, I had to send an amendment to his email, explaining everything I had just spoken to our IT manager about.

I had a feeling that it would not end there. And I was right. When I got in this morning, there was another email in my inbox from Patsy. All I could do was laugh. It basically gave everyone advice about reducing their mailbox size (which I had briefly outlined in my email) and a reiteration of what the IT manager had stated and what I had already sent in the previous email:

"Having said all of that, local folders are still okay, but it should be stressed not to move then entire contents of your email over to it. If you’re close to 200MB, you could set up a local folder and move some info into it for items that you may not want lost during email migration, etc., but please refrain from moving too much. As J------ stressed, IT folks are worried that users will back up their entire inbox onto a local folder.." (J----- is the IT manager)

The reason why I find this hilarious is that everything that was in his email was already in mine, but written in a tone which made it seem like it was either new or insightful because he wrote it. The other reason is because, when I amended Patsy's email with the correct information, I responded to it, keeping the original copy attached so that people would know what I was referring to. His email this morning had all other previous responses deleted.

I have no intention of continuing this idiocy. I didn't realize I was dealing with a 5 year old. I thought this kind of shit stopped in junior high. Why is it necessary for a 28 year old man to jump up and down, waving his hands screaming, "Look at me! I can do it better!!"?

Wedding dress follies

Before anyone goes nuts - no I am not engaged. However, Crazy and SweetPea are. So Nancy and I went dress shopping with Crazy today. She's very low maintenance, so it's really come to no surprise that she's found her dress and ordered it. What's funny is how the decision on the dress came to be.

After trying on 2 dresses (the second of which we thought would be the one), she came out in a beautiful, sparkly number, which Crazy admittedly said looked much better out than in the dressing room. Anyway, we were trying to decide between the sparkly one and the second dress. Well, in the store was another bride with her family. The grandpa asked if we wanted a male opinion. We said yes. He very bluntly said that when she came out in the sparkly dress, "That turned me on!" At which point we all start laughing. He went on to describe why he liked it: it's about the placement of said sparkles - not too much througout the dress, but enough in the right places. He then leans over to Nancy and me and says, "In the end all men are titty men."

No shit.

Exercise in futility

Okay, so last year, I decided that, you know, in order to torture myself, I would start running. Not only just running, but running a half-marathon. And, in the end, I was really happy I did it. It was a lot of fun, despite the chronic knee pain incurred.

I always said that I would not live my life avoiding the things I hate or fear. So, today began the new quest (not that I've given up running - I need to work up to it again because of my knee). Swimming, which is supposed to be better for the knee. And it is apparently worse for everything else...

Let me explain. I am a BAD swimmer. It's very simple. I did not grow up with ready access to a pool. I probably didn't even really learn how to swim until I was about 10. I never learned how to breathe properly, blow bubbles, anything. People keep telling me that blowing bubbles is simple. Not so much for me. Anytime I've tried, my immediate inclination is to breathe in, and then there's me flailing and coughing up water. So, for me "swimming" is pretty much bobbing around in the water under the hot sunshine of summer, immediately followed by sunning poolside.

Today, Crazy and Sweetpea invited me to go to the community pool with them and the kids. Should be fun. Crazy and Sweetpea have decided that they are going to do a sprint distance triathalon (not me, thank you very much), so they are swim training. While I'm not doing the triathalon, I do want to at least try to become a better swimmer.

Today, it was all about trying not to sink. My head bobbing atop the surface of the water while, beneath, my legs slowly finding their way to the pool bottom (the lap pool is only 3-5 feet deep). By lap number 3, halfway across the pool, my feet will have found the pool bottom and I need to stand up and kick off again. I made it back and forth across the pool 10 times (I won't actually call them laps since that would be an insult to actual swimmers). By the end of 20 minutes, I wanted to die - my head felt like it was about to explode and my legs felt like they were 300 pounds. Now my shoulder and arms are beginning to ache. I know that I'm going to be paying for this tomorrow morning. And, again, as with the running, I want to go back for more pain.

There seriously must me something wrong with me.

I'm so freakin' tired

Okay. So I couldn't drag my ass out of bed until almost 8:30 this morning. And I'm about ready to fall asleep at my desk, and it's not even 11 o'clock (forget the fact that I got in at 9:45). This sucks. I see an unproductive day ahead of me.

Things one should never overhear while eating lunch

"No, I didn't drink yellow coffee... oh, wait. There was that time I drank my own urine..."

Get (red)

So, I wanted a new cell phone since my old one was dying and I wanted a new toy. I was debating with JS over what phone I should buy... particularly because I really don't use all the web stuff and all. But, in the end, JS bought me a phone I really love - for more reasons than just because it's new and shiny (which is usually reason enough).


I got the Motorola (red) Razr. I'd never been a huge fan of Motorola products. This one, however, is attached to a good cause. Unless you've been living under a rock, you've probably heard about the (red) project. It's the project started by Bono and Bobby Shriver in support of The Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria. Part of the proceeds of every (red) product sale goes to The Global Fund.

The fact that it's a (red) product made me more apt to buy it. I think that's going to be the case in the near future for a lot of things. I'm probably going to get the (red) Bluetooth headset to use with this phone. The whole point of the (red) project is to allow people to help contribute to The Global Fund through buying products they already use. Well, it's definitely worked on me.

... and not so fresh

Well... I spent the majority of yesterday at home in the fetal position. Why? Because I spent the previous night praying to the porcelain god. Was I drunk? Was I hung-over? God I wish I was. Unfortunately, neither was the case. I had a bug in my tummy. One that came roaring in at about 2am the night before and finally ceased at about 10am. I never realized that my body could be in so much pain all at once.

At the very least, I can be thankful that nothing began until after the drive back from MS's place, or JS would not have been a happy camper in the car (nor I, as a matter of fact). I'm much better today, but not 100%. I'm feeling rather... empty. I know. TMI.

Starting the New Year fresh

There are certain times when a conversation is so funny, that there is no other way to describe it except to just give a transcript. So, here is the "Happy New Year" conversation I had with my Dad at approximately 12:02am on New Year's Day:

N'il: Happy New Year!
Dad: Happy New Year, how are you?
N: Good. Were you asleep?
D: No, I was watching TV.
N: Good. How are you feeling?
D: Not bad. Not bad.
N: Well, that's good.
D: I just moved my bowels.
N: Really?! Well, that's good. You're starting the New Year off fresh.
D: Yeah, I moved them 4 times today. I did just before you called.
N: Well, that's really great Dad. As I said, you're starting the year fresh.
D: Yes, well...
N: I'll give you a call later this week, okay?
D: Okay. Have a good night.
N: Good night, Dad.

I guess when you're nearly 81, there are some things which are just much more exciting than watching the ball drop.

So, I took the week off

And this is what happens when I am left to my own devices when I have literally nothing else to do...


I received this puzzle for my birthday from Jay and Ang. I opened it yesterday thinking, "Well, I'll get the border done and work on it the rest of the week." I've never finished a puzzle by myself before (okay, JS placed one piece of this one). And things were going so well... well, I got a bit OCD and NEEDED to finish it. I started at around 3pm. I finished at about 1am.

The puzzle is 1026 pieces... and it's the history of chocolate.

Well, somebody's got a case of the Mondays

Yeah... that's today. I really feel that way. I am dealing with a Lumburgh at the moment. In my office. I have a document that just keeps getting sent back for "just one more thing." I have buy-in from all the people that matter that my document should not be approved - from the management above my Lumburgh. I have the emails to prove it. But I need to document it in the review - so that the people, who already approved it, know that I already talked to them. How does that make any sense? Really?

And on top of that, the Idiot is in charge this week. This is going to be a long week...

You'll shoot your eye out, kid!

I have two favorite Christmas movies: A Charlie Brown Christmas and A Christmas Story. I look forward to seeing these movies every year. J was lovely enought to give me Charlie Brown in my stocking last year and I got the soundtrack last year as well. It's a classic story about the true meaning of Christmas.

A Christmas Story, on the other hand, is a riot. All the things about winter and the holidays that can and do suck, well, it's in there. But told from such a unique perspective. Anyways, there are some people who take being a fan too far, but in a good way. For those who really want to, you can go visit the actual Christmas Story house, both outside and now inside. What some people will do to live out a dream.

It's a "people suck" kind of day

... and I've decided that, rather than impose my obviously bad mood on people, I am hiding in my hole (in other words, locked in my office). Why is it a "people suck" kind of day? Who knows. I woke up feeling like this. But everyone is getting on my nerves, and I just can't deal.

Can I go home and take a nap now?

Big dog, Little dog

I introduced Jay and Ang's fuzzy baby not too long ago. Well, at Thanksgiving, Thor met his little cousin dog, who isn't so little anymore. Hauser is almost twice as big as Thor. He certainly is twice as tall. But anyone who has met Thor knows that Thor believes he is much bigger than he actually is, and acts that way, much to the humour of everyone else.

Well, the cousin dog meeting went as well as we could have hoped. They liked each other. They played and played. They chased. I think what was most amusing to me is that for much of the time, Thor was doing most of the chasing - pretty nimble for a dog with such short legs. And I'm always amused when the little dog chases the big dog. That shit's just funny. Equally funny was when Hauser went into stalker mode with Thor staring at Hauser coming at him with the look of "You know I can see you..."

After a while, because Thor is Thor, he got tired and didn't want to play anymore. And Hauser, because he lost his playmate to tiredness, he did what every precocious puppy does when they're big enough - he wanted our attention, particularly where there was food.

In the end, I was so happy that the puppies got along (yes, Thor is still my puppy). And hopefully the fun will continue the more times they get together.

Wireless life

I work at home once a week. The problem with working where I do is that security is tight. So until recently (read: tonight), in order to connect to work, I had to use dial-up. That's right. Now, we've had broadband for a long while, so it seems silly for me to have to use dial-up. So, let me explain.

Our apartment is completely wireless. There is the cable modem, the router and all sorts of wireless cards for various devices. There were practical reasons for this arrangement. Mostly, because of the way the apartment is laid out, running wires to the loft would be too much work and far too unsightly. So, we chose to be wireless.

The major issue with this arrangement is that my work computer, for reasons of security, was freed of its wireless card before I received it. That's right. My work computer came with a wireless card and it was removed before I received it. Only recently, within the past couple of months, has the agency allowed wireless access for home use. Once I heard that - I jumped on it and got my card re-installed. Great, simple, right?

Wrong. The encryption used by the agency is WPA, which, until recently (read: last week), was not supported by TiVo. So until all of the software was updated, etc., the choice was TiVo or work computer. Well... the TiVos won. Anyhoo, that's not a problem anymore since the software has been upgraded to support WPA encryption (well, on one of them... the other one is having issues).

So, what's the point? Well, now that everything has been set up and updated, I not only have broadband access with my work computer, but on top of that it's wireless. This makes me a very happy camper. No more waiting forever (and I do mean FOREVER) for email to load into Outlook. And I am no longer tethered to my desk.

This will make working at home even more enjoyable from now on. No more screaming at the dial-up anymore!

Odd Priorities

Election day was yesterday. Obviously this was a very important election for a number of reasons. Whether one believes it was a referendum on the current administration, on the Iraq war or whatever, it was very clear that the people in this country wanted a change. So the fact that the headlines on major news sites, like CNN.com were splashed with news of election results, surprises, upsets and possible recounts is no surprise.


I mean, it's the day after come very contentious politicking. So, when I scolled down the CNN page to read the other top headlines, I was amused when I saw this in the list:


I just love that in this country, Britney Spear's divorce is considered a top headline just below a story about a suicide bomber.

But, as you can tell... I clicked on the Britney article first. What does that say about me?

Extreme grocery shopping

Okay, so JS and I have discovered a really cool grocery shopping experience. I know what you're thinking: "Cool grocery shopping experience? What the hell is she on??" Let me explain. There is a new grocery store in our area called Bloom. The concept of this store (yes, this store was built on a concept) is to design a grocery store based on customer suggestions. So what you end with is a grocery store that is actually quite logically designed: The prepared foods are right by the front door so you don't have to go all the way to the back to get grab-and-go meal. The non-foods are relegated to the far end of the store so you get to that point last (which is good for someone like me who generally skips those isles in favor of Target). A map of the store on the grocery cart so if you forget something you're not like,"what isle was that in?" and run up and down isles looking for crap. And price scanners everywhere (because you never know when something is in the wrong place on a shelf).

Okay, I know, where's the cool part? Well, the cool part comes in the form of hand scanners. You know, like the ones they use when they stock? You scan a customer card (like a bonus card type thing), pick up a scanner, pick up a rack of bags, and you're off. Scan and bag as you go along, all the while keeping a tally of the final total. When you're done, you scan that you're done, go to a self-checkout, scan the customer card and everything you just scanned appears magically on the screen. Pay and leave. No surprise gigantic total at the end. No argument over price since you found out when you scanned. Totally awesome.


I know I'm totally geeky. But you have to understand, I'm one of those people who likes the self-checkout because it's generally faster, and I don't have to deal with a crabby checkout person. This whole, everything-is-scanned-as-I-go-along-and-all-I-have-to-do-is-pay thing is very very cool to me.

And I like using the scanner. But that's the geeky part.

I have nothing witty to say

I'm very tired. These past couple of weeks have been stressful. And I think I need a nap.

It says "For Adults Only"

But it's being sold at a toy store. Well, not a toy store, but in the toy isle of the store (a store which seems to be similar to Target or Wal-Mart) and in the toy section of their website. A pole, for pole dancing. That's the equivalent of seeing this type of thing in the toy section of the Target website or in the stores. Who was the brilliant person who thought that this was a good idea?

Trying to keep the piles from tumbling on me

The piles around me keep growing, both at home and at work. I'm not overwhelmed yet, but it's getting there. This is the busy time of year around work - companies try to get their submissions in before the end of the year and all, so we end up with a flood. In addition to my regular work, I volunteered to be in charge for this week and next. Not a big deal as a whole, and a good learning experience. I guess the one thing I didn't count on was how many meetings I would have to attend. And all the documentation for the meetings just add to the already growing piles.

It's been a stressful few weeks, ever since coming back from PR. JS has not been well, and it's taking a toll on both of us, particularly him. The most stressful part is that we don't really know what's wrong, and, because he had needed to take some heavy pain medication, it pretty much means he checks out every night. Neither of us are fond of this situation. And this is pretty much the reasons why the piles are growing at home - we did something like 8 loads of laundry last weekend.

So, moving forward, trying to keep things from getting out of hand. Trying to keep the piles from falling on me.

It's so freakin' cold I have to blog about it

Yeah, it's cold. Two-and-a-half weeks ago, MS, TC and I were sunning ourselves in PR. When I got back, it was a little cold and then it got warm again. Yesterday was a relatively warm day. Today it's cold. And not just a little cold. The HOLY SHIT IT'S FREAKIN' COLD! kind of cold. Dropped nearly 40 degrees overnight cold. That's right 40 degrees. It reached 70 degrees yesterday and the low when we woke up this morning was in the 30's.

And I am sitting in my office, where I've been freezing my butt off all day because they seem to have forgotten to turn up the heat.

Are you done yet? Are you done yet? How about now?

Okay, so a couple of weeks ago, we had 2 new hires in our division, both in my branch. I have the pleasure of being assigned to mentor our new microbiologist (MB) - you know, get her acclimated, make sure she knows how things are generally done and where to get good ice cream sundaes. You know, the important things. Our new engineer (EN) is being mentored by the idiot Patsy someone else.

As I work at home on Wednesday, I got a flurry of emails from MB asking me to check over her review, which she is frantically trying to get finished because EN keeps asking her if she's done. I was having a hard time understanding this since MB told me that she had until the end of the month to finish it - at least that's what the request sheet said. Apparently, EN's mentor told him, more or less, that it would be good if the document was finished and a letter sent out by Friday (day after tomorrow) since the document has been in house for *GASP* 15 days already.

First of all, for the type of document it is, 15 days is way early. Second, I have no idea why EN's mentor is rushing since he has shown himself incapable of keeping track of his own timelines. But most importantly, how is anyone supposed to work when there is someone in your doorway every 5 minuntes asking, "Are you done yet? How much longer? When do you think it will be done? How about now? Now? What about now?"

MB emailed and called me and asked whether this was the way things usually are. Whether this breathing down the neck was normal. She's new, obviously she doesn't know. I reassured her that it's not always like that, and the fact that her due date was moved from the end of the month to the end of this week was unacceptable. More unacceptable was the annoyance.

It became very clear that this was a sore point for me, particularly because it appeared that EN's mentor was the source of the problem. I have a major problem when there is a lack of respect of a person's workload and timelines. If the person in charge of the document screwed up a due date, it's his own damn fault. Ask to see if something can be done to expedite, then leave to allow work to get done. Really.

No. But really. The lizard DID attack me...

Well, perhaps not attack, per se. Here's the story. MS, TC and I were sitting on a beautiful beach on Palomino Island at the El Conquistador Resort in PR. Under the shade of a mini-hut, umbrella type thing. I was reading and half-falling asleep and thoroughly relaxing. Then I feel this tickly feeling on my leg. I look down expecting to shoo away a fly or something. But no. I look down and there is a 6 or 8 inch lizard on leaning on my legs with it's front feet. Let's just say that at this point I made the most ridiculous, undulating scream to the effect of: WHAA-AA-AAH! One of those comedic, sitcom-like moments. Needless to say that the lizard quickly jumped off and ran away, likely quietly screaming about the crazy, loud chick. We had a good laugh after that.

At that point, there was really no falling back asleep, as we had all been jolted awake and I was hysterical laughing. So we went to lunch, which I lost later in the afternoon - but that's a different story entirely.

The lizard below is not the offending lizard, but one we saw roaming around while eating lunch:

Why I love Callie

Don't mind her. It's just the whole doctor thing... you know, 4 years of high school, 4 years of college, 4 years of med school. By the end we're in our mid 20's and have no idea. We're all social retards... It's high school, only with scalpels. We're 17. And I'm the girl sitting in the back of the classroom eating her hair.

Jon Stewart on...

J and I spent the evening at Merriweather Post Pavilion for an evening with Jon Stewart. I love Jon Stewart. We had the opportunity to see him a couple of years ago in Baltimore (he likes coming to Baltimore for some reason) and it was the best comedy show I had ever been to. He is hilarious and smart.

Last time around, I couldn't remember how he got from talking about the war on terror to ending the show talking about his dog puking. The transitions were that smooth. It also made it very difficult to remember anything about the show except the puking dog. So this time, I made an effort to try to remember other parts of the show - because I knew if he ended with his dog puking again (and he did, and it was just as funny as the first time), that I would not remember anything else if I wasn't taking mental notes.

So, here is Jon Stewart on...

... the president:

The president isn't stupid. I believe the president thinks we are stupid. Look at the way he speaks to us - "I make decisions. I'm a decision maker." That's his formula - I A B. I am B A. "As president, I protect the people. I'm a people protector."

... getting AIDS:

Senator Bill Frist, the Senate majority leader, actually got up on the Senate floor and said that there may be a chance that you can catch AIDS from tears. From tears. The ONLY way you can catch AIDS from tears is if the tears are coming from your cock.

... being a moderate:

The problem with being a moderate is that you can't motivate us to get out and shout our agenda... That's what the people on the extremes do. Think about it, getting all the moderates our there to shout out, "Hey! Lets all be reasonable!"

... science:

There are scientists out there experimenting with cloning. They are cloning to try to make humans... to make humans.*pause* There are 6 billion humans on the planet. Fucking is working.

I believe that the world will come to an end because of scientists. Don't get me wrong, I like science. But on Long Island, there is a particle accelerator, at Brookhaven National Labs. They are accelerating and colliding particles together because they think they know how the big bang occurred... and they're trying to recreate it. Think about that for a moment. They are going to collide these particles together and they are hoping they will make anti-matter... which will gobble everything up. The very last words uttered before the end of the world will be, "Hey. It worked!"

... homosexuality:

I mean, the "radical gay agenda." The radical agenda: they want to get married, join the army, be in the Boy Scouts. I don't understand why people are so up in arms about gay marriage. I mean, I would understand if they wanted to make it manditory - someone telling me, "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to marry a dude." Really, let people be who they are. The head can be swayed, the heart can be tugged, but the dick wants what it wants - it's irrefutable.

... his dog:

I realized that my dog has no short term memory... I believe this is what goes on in his head: BLEAGH (throws up)... Ugh, I feel awful... *turns to see vomit* Oh! Food!

... recovering from 9/11

There was a time when we all believed that we would not see light again... that there would not be a time when we would laugh again. But we move on. And slowly, we are able to laugh and smile again. Something happened for me about 3 weeks after 9/11. I was walking out on my apartment, and there was a homeless man there. I looked at him. And he was jerking off. And at that moment, I thought, "Things are getting back to normal."

I'm so tired I can't even smile

But I had a great time.

Things I just don't expect to hear when I'm calling a consultant at work

"Sweetie, mommy is on the phone with FDA. You're going to have to get off the computer now."

What the &%@#*&?

When we drove into Virgina Beach, I had noticed these odd signs everywhere and wondered what they were...


Walking to dinner we noted them again. No cursing? Really? Is that what it actually means? After walking a bit more, we found the list of rules:


I love that this town feels the need to set an ordinance for proper bahaviour in public. It's very amusing actually. While walking to dinner, we heard quite a few people cursing, and wondered if we were allowed to send the thought police after them...

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.