Word(le)

February 23, 2009 at 12:56 pm (art?)

Everyone should do this. Here is my blog as a word cloud:

wordle-223
Not as satisfying as smashing clay representations of your stressors, but definitely interesting!

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having survived a serious crawfish overdose, our heroine does something stupid.

February 23, 2009 at 12:36 pm (life in general, why do i do these things?, work shmork)

Oh moly.

Happy almost Mardi Gras, everyone! Or are we in Mardi Gras right now? Being all non-Christian as I am, I honestly have no idea- did it start this weekend? I know tomorrow is Fat Tuesday, right? Then Ash-on-forehead Day and weeks of lots of fish specials. Right?!?

Um, anyway, I know that there were serious crawfish specials at the restaurant we always go to in order to celebrate my mom’s birthday, and that is what really matters. The purple, gold and green decorations were really the only thing that reminded me that oh, that’s right, Mardi Gras is always around Mom’s birthday. Anyway, the point is that on Friday night I had what felt like my weight in mudbugs, washing it down with rudely named but beautifully colorful alcoholic drinks. Mmmm! And then I succumbed to a crawfish induced coma for two days. If only my mom could see me now…

So, because I felt like a serious fatty after eating several pounds of crustaceans, which had either been deep fried or smothered in a creamy bisque, I thought that I should probably start working out. This morning, I pulled my bike out of the closet and decided to ride it to work. Go me! Bike riding has always been one of my favorite ways to exercise, second only to hiking. Plus, it’s easy! Or it was when I last rode my bike, back in my first year of college. Can’t be that hard now, right? That was only a few (wow, 8 ) years ago…

HA!!! I made it about four blocks before deciding that the best plan was to lie down on the sidewalk and dry heave for a while.

See, I am not in the best of shape. I have what I like to think of as a sexy nerd physique. That is influenced by cake and hotpockets. I can bust my butt intellectually and look sexy doing it, but apparently that’s about it. Also, I always sorta believed stretching was a conspiracy but in retrospect I have much more respect for it. Back when I was biking last, as a freshman in college, I had just come out of high school where I was a vigorous marching band nerd. I didn’t realize it at the time but marching band kept us in shape! Since then, the most exercise I do on a regular basis involves walking to the bus stop. Sure, it’s two blocks away and I have to dodge hookers, but it’s not really that strenuous. The life of a lab tech, at least in my field, doesn’t involve a lot of leg work. You should see my pipetting thumb, though, it is ripped!

So, I jumped on my bike, assuming that if that old aphorism* of  “it’s like riding a bike” was true when it comes to balancing on a bike, it should also apply to actually riding the bike. Ok, in truth, I didn’t think at all, I just jumped on my bike and took off. I honestly thought the worst that would happen is that someone would pull out of their parking spot too fast and smash me. Imagine my surprise when I survive my parking lot, but then feel like dying a few blocks later! I even pushed on through the crappiness, figuring it would go away, right? HA!! again. So I sat down for a while, realizing that 1) I’m heavier now than when I was in college, making it hard to move the bike, 2) my bike seat totally hurts my ass, probably as a result of #1 up there, and 3) I might throw up and pass out at any second. Fortunately Dr. FianceHusband called right then to see if I had died, and while I had planned to be all, “it’s cool, I’m just resting,” instead I pathetically said, “can you come get me?” even though I was only 4 blocks from my apartment. I am awesome. By which I mean pathetic and stupid. Fortunately when I say Dr. FianceHusband is awesome, I mean he really is awesome, even though he did give me the “you are pathetic” sigh when he hung up. See, he’s been riding his bike to work for a while now- the whole 6 miles. He enjoys lording this over me.

Anyway, I came home feeling like crap because I am super not smart when it comes to exercising, and decided to work from home/call in sick today.

All in all, this is a very boring post but I don’t care, I’m posting it anyway as a way to show that I did, at one point, try to exercise, it just kicked my ass because I didn’t sneak up on it by stretching first. That is what I am going to go by, anyway. Now I’d like to go pass out for a bit but people from work keep sending emails that piss me off** so instead I will go make clay representations of stuff that pisses me off and then smash them. I will probably photograph this and post it later.

*big word!

** grad student 1: we need to inventory this freezer, it hasn’t been done the whole time Meg’s been here
me: no, I keep it inventoried at all times
grad student 2: I agree, and I’ll do it tomorrow but Meg has to help
me: No, I already have it done.
boss: yes, inventorying is a good idea, Meg please drop everything you have planned and do this***
me: AAAAUUUUGGGGGHHHH I HATE YOU ALL!!!

***she hasn’t said this yet, but she will. She always does. She’s already flip flopped back and forth on an upcoming experiment.
Boss: do it this way- lots of samples, lots of overtime, but lots of data
Me: ok
Boss, after getting my protocol: Why are you doing it that way? Do it this way: small, no usable data
Me: But you wanted to do it this way (lots of samples, lots of data) originally
Boss: Yes, that is a good idea, do it that way instead
Me: ok
Boss, next day, after being cc’d on a planning email from me to a couple students: Why are you doing it that way?
Repeat.
Pull out hair.
Work hard to get a teaching job.

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follow up!

February 20, 2009 at 12:39 am (cats, insomnia, jinxing myself, monsters)

So, I wanted to follow up on my “where did the phrase ‘bat shit crazy’ come from” from the last post- this enigma was solved by Dr. FianceHusband!! He did a minor stint of bat field work, and one of the guys working with him told him that guano, since it is super good fertilizer, actually attracts a specific fungus that releases neurotoxins into the air that make you act all sorts of crazy. Hence, “bat shit crazy!” Everything is right with the world…ok maybe not but I do feel slightly more complete having not only solved that mystery but blogging about it as well. Ah, I love etymology…entomology is lovely too, but something completely different.

Also I’d like to point out, also in reference to my last post, that just because I push for treating blondes as real people does not mean that I don’t also respect people with other hair colors (or breast sizes). Seriously, I’m sorta not good at telling hair color anyway. I could’ve sworn that for most of my childhood my mom had red hair, when in actuality she only had red hair for a little while, while I was super young, then let it go brunette again. Still, every time I’d describe my mom she was always a red head in my brain. Imprinting is an amazing psychological thing, people!

In other news*, I think the spawn of the jabberwocky tree I saw last weekend have moved into the “attic” space above my apartment. We’re on the top floor, so I can’t hope that the crazy scrabbling noises that I hear coming from just a few feet above my head are being generated by a neighbor’s cat. Moon, who heard the monsters move in a couple weeks ago and kept trying to tell me by staring fixedly at a spot on the ceiling for hours, has totally been shooting me withering  “I told you so” glances all day. Or she’s just being her normal cat self. I seem to barely recall hearing the same noises for a while last year, but I take a lot of meds so memories are fuzzy things for me and tend to be highly influenced by whatever cartoon I just watched. And I certainly hope it’s jabberwocky spawn because if it is rats I’ll die of allergies (thank you very much, work!), and if it’s possum I will die of puking at the grossness. Raccoons I can handle. Monster spawn? I’d have to look into how to deal with them on an individual species basis. Personally I’m going to hope** it’s a family of obamacorns.

Technically I should be sleeping, since it’s a Thursday and all, but screw technicalities because I’m off tomorrow! I took the day off because tomorrow is my mom’s birthday (she would’ve been 52), and it’s a good thing ’cause I’ll need to spend it preparing for a TEACHING INTERVIEW!! After attending a career fair a couple weeks ago at my university (where I was the oldest “potential employee” and people kept asking me when I’d be graduating- jerks) I learned about this accelerated teaching certificate program, where you spend the summer cramming like mad about how to teach and deal with kids (I think there is a section on how to use flamethrowers), then you start teaching in the fall! Holy crap! On a whim I applied to it, which involved writing annoying essays which reminded me of high school which made me rethink wanting to be a teacher, even on a whim. Anyway the application went in and now I have to go teach other applicants something “age appropriate” which I have no idea what is. When I was in high school, age appropriate biology lessons involved making up answers for my biology worksheet because everyone knew that Coach Smith, who “taught” the class, had a volleyball game the night before and a rehearsal for his Christian folk band***, so there was no way he would actually be grading our work seriously. This was seriously my only biology class in high school, and yet I became a biologist. I always figured that being a scientist was way glamorous, but I am totally wrong. And you know what? Teaching pays WAY more than being a science tech. Also? No more begging for money worrying about funding cycles and grant renewals. And in all honesty, I actually really like teaching biology. Also I would totally be the hot but bat shit crazy teacher that everyone remembers forever, when they are off being doctors and real scientists and living in places that are not infested with monsters. Which by the way the cats are totally not interested in any more, which makes me think that the cats and the monsters have made a deal of some sort involving the monsters coming in and eating me in my sleep, as long as they are quiet and don’t wake up the cats****. Good thing I don’t have to work tomorrow! ‘Cause I’ll be staying up all night now, awaiting my monster-induced demise!

*HA! See, Kurt, “other news” stories are important!

**Haha, I was funny with out meaning to be!

***On days when we were supposed to be learning real science that made Coach Smith uncomfortable, like reproduction or evolution, he’d play us tapes of his Christian folk band rehearsals instead. How the hell did I become a biologist?!? The only piece of information that I remember “learning” from that guy was completely wrong- right before he turned on one of his rehearsal tapes, he told us “all you need to know about reproduction is that Y is dominant” with a stupid I’m-a-coach-not-a-real-teacher look on his face. This is wrong on so very many levels, people. Ethically, socially, but most importantly biologically. If you think that the Y chromosome is dominant I’ll let you blame it on a bad biology teacher but know now that this is a classic case in biology of there being no absolutes. Other than there being absolutely no people alive with only a Y and no X chromosome. Suck it, Coach Smith!

**** I told Dr. FianceHusband this theory and he reassuringly said “don’t worry, Moon wouldn’t let them eat me. She loves me.” True. However, I’m totally screwed. Kiwi loves me but is crazy dumb so he’d probably either pee on my laundry again or bring the monsters his toy, thinking we were playing a fun game and it was totally his turn to play. Or he’d just jump on my face.

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I honestly don't know what is going on in my brain when I'm not paying attention

February 19, 2009 at 10:46 am (i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, life in general, thoughts and musings)

These thoughts have been fluttering through my mind recently. Obviously it’s time to consider a lobotomy.

-I’m going to start calling the boy Dr. FianceHusband on this blog, because I’ve been reading other blogs where “the boy” refers to a kid and it creeps me out that people who write stuff on those blogs might read this blog and think I enjoy making out with or throwing things at children. GROSS. Except the throwing stuff at kids part, and then only when they really deserve it, like when they kick you in the shins first. Also calling him Dr. FianceHusband makes me thing of Dr. Girlfriend from The Venture Brothers which we all know is super awesome. Dr. FianceHusband isn’t actually a doctor of anything but he’s way smarter than me which means he is light years ahead of some doctoral students I know, and on a completely different planet, intellectually, than some premed students I know so I consider it close enough. Also he is Dr. FianceHusband because we’ve been engaged for three years now, with no wedding day in sight, but in Texas if you declare you are married to someone for six months than it becomes true. I don’t know how I feel about that, hence me awkwardly calling him fiance, husband, boyfriend, or that guy, depending on my mood.

-I just found out there is an application for my phone that turns it into a vibrator. Gross and dumb. That thing goes on your head, people, as in very close to your nose. And there are way cheaper “toys” (because technically vibrators are illegal in Texas! Because this state is awesome! By which I mean sorta dumb!) out there. But the real lesson here? Never buy a used version of my phone!

-I keep being involved in conversations in which someone inevitably ends up saying something along the lines of “what do they want, some dumb blonde with big tits?” As in, “my brother only dates dumb girls, but I don’t need some blonde with big tits” or “everyone is always surprised that I’m a pole dancer, I guess they expect them all to be ditzy blondes with big tits.” PEOPLE! I am blonde and have a massive rack! And yet, apparently against all evidence out there, I am not dumb and/or ditzy! So suck it! Stop the stereotyping! I happen to know many blonde ladies with breasts who are all super smart. This may come as a shock, but we don’t think with our breasts and hair color actually has nothing to do with intelligence. Also, seriously, can you not see me when we are having these conversations? Also, whenever people say stuff like that I automatically assume they have tiny, frightened sex organs.*

-Since when did it become ok to spell it “blond” and not “blonde?”

-I often wonder if people think I am trying to grope them when I reach over them to pull the cord on the bus. I also wonder if people fart on their seats just as they get up, knowing that I’m on my way to claim their recently vacated spot.

-People who don’t understand the endocrine system make me giggle. For example: Gary Busey said, and I quote, “I’ll pull your endocrine system out of your body.” That is awesome and completely impossible because the “system” in not actually connected, that’s sorta the point of hormones. Perhaps he meant reproductive system? Or perhaps he is simply bat shit crazy?

-I wonder where the term “bat shit crazy” came from. Does it have something to do with parasites in guano? That would make sense, but I’m too lazy to google it.

-Two pairs of my jeans now have worn patches (holes!) in the left knee. This is from me sitting cross legged in my chair at work and being too cheap to buy “good” (read: not so thin and crappy that holes pop into existence when you sit cross legged in them) jeans. I’m worried, though, that people will assume it’s from something dirty that involves being on my knees (or rather, knee, since the right one is not holey. What’s up with that?), an assumption that is not helped by the fact that I am blonde with gargantuan breasts (but see above, please). I think I need to wear a sign that says “hey! that hole in my jeans is from sitting weirdly in my chair at work! Not what you’re thinking!” except that probably no one else thinks like I think they think but then they’d see the sign and be suspicious.

These thoughts keep me up at night, people. Unless I’ve taken several antihistamines, in which case I fall asleep so hard that I don’t even notice when one of cats jumps on my face so violently that I end up with an awesomely huge scratch right across the bridge of my nose.**

*That’s called irony, people. Or something. Whatever, suck it. Also I totally know the people who say stuff like that are totally jealous.

**I totally have a massively huge scratch on the bridge of my nose right now.

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la familia, aka holy shit, batman!

February 17, 2009 at 10:59 pm (history of meg, life in general, thoughts and musings)

So I only just realized that my family is sorta out of control now. As in numbers, not necessarily actions, though there’s that too. For a long time it was just me, my brother and my parents. Sure, there were a couple uncles, one that I like and one that I don’t, who are both married to a teacher named Kay* but one of the Kays is slightly more interesting than the other. Plus a couple cousins here and there, who mostly think I’m either old or crazy or maybe both (damn kids). On the whole, though, eh, no biggie. The only people I’d ever turn to about jabberwocky trees or the AlphaTroll’s lastest weirdness were my parents and brother, and the rest of the relations were only brought up when loots was involved (e.g. xmas, graduations, etc). They remind me of Rabbit’s family and relations from the original Winnie the Pooh stories, who only were brought up in random situations like when Pooh got stuck in Rabbit’s door and stuff. No names, just family and relations.

Then stuff happened. Now there are a million people that I have to make xmas presents for or I feel crazy guilty.

My brother, who for a long time and for reasons that continue to baffle me was apparently a bit of a hot catch (is that what kids say these days? I need a nicer way to say “bit of a manslut”) and had a million zillion girlfriends, is engaged and will be getting married way before me, in that he is getting married this century. The good news is that his lady, Fae*, is pretty cool, and she has a kid already and for some reason that also baffles me want to have my brother’s kids  so screw you, my ovaries! We aren’t having babies! Enough of my genes will be passed down through my brother’s spawn kids, so my plan to have a million animals instead because they don’t curse at you (in English anyway) and you can leave them at home alone for a couple days (with lots of food, duh, don’t get all PETA on me, jerks) with out feeling guilty is GOOD TO GO.  This is good, because instead of saving money to buy a house and cribs and other baby related paraphenalia I tend to spend it on new phones**.

So, dad’s marrying a lady I like, so that’s good. She keeps him in line and reads a lot, so that’s a plus. She has a daughter my age who we will call Steppy because (and this didn’t dawn on me until recently) we’ll be step sisters soon. Steppy also has a kid (not my age unless you divide it by 9), so that means that I have a nephew which means *extra score!* I still don’t have to reproduce. Awesome. Recently, Steppy made big news because she ran off! Just told her husband “Fuck you, buddy!” and took off to Wisconsin for a while (for some reason- maybe cheese? If so, we really are related). Now, everyone*** is freaking out about this piece of family drama but my first and continued reaction is/was “You go, Steppy!” because I don’t like her husband. Also she sorta scares me because she is loud and more (loudly) oppinionated than  me so I basically stand behind anything she does so she doesn’t turn her madness on me.  Mostly the first reason, though. Her husband always struck me as bit of tool.

The boy is totally baffled**** by my reaction to the addition to my likeable-family. See, he’s got a monterously huge family, full of REAL drama, of the stabby/illegitimate kid having/coke snorting boyfriend having variety, but they all count as likeable-family to him, in that he talks to them more often than once a year or so. So me getting two sisters is basically nothing to him, because even though he’s an only child, he and his mom lived with one of her sisters for a while when he was growing up so his two cousins were basically like sisters to him. And I’m not even going to start on how I’m not related to all the people his side of my now massive family. It just gets too complicated.

So now the question becomes, if have two  sisters now, does that actually mean anything? It’s not like I’m social, plus they are off in exotic lands like Portland (Fae) and Cedar Park (which is maybe 20 minutes from Austin but we’ll just pretend it’s in a different universe; plus who knows when she’ll be back from Cheeseland?) so it’s not like we can call each other up and say “hey, let’s get drunk!” or “my apartment is smelly and I’m too lazy to do the laundry, want to go nerd it up in a bookstore with me?” and really do anything. Plus I’m totally not touchy-feeling in a sisterly way, so I don’t even know if I’m supposed to hug them or not…

Man, I just had a serious urge to go nerd it up in a bookstore. By myself. I’ll figure this family stuff out when it becomes more relevant. Like, if they ever bring it up. ‘Cause I’m not going to. ‘Cause I’m a big fan of the “not worrying about it until it’s all up in your face!” philosophy. Awesome.

*names changed because that’s how I roll.

**Holy crap, I just got the Google phone and words cannot describe how freakin’ sweet it is. Except the battery life sucks jabberwocky tree ass.

*** everyone= my dad and his fiancee. Oh, and maybe the husband, though he probably didn’t notice she left ’til, I don’t know, a few days later. See why I say “Go Steppy go!”?

****I have never used the word “baffled” so many times in a post before…

*****This is all this guy’s fault. His devilishly handsome looks and interests relevant to my own (re: boobs, jabberwocky trees) has inspired me to footnote. Plus I don’t get to footnote enough in life, so deal with it.

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(resigned sigh)

February 15, 2009 at 9:23 pm (art?, i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, just pure awesome, life in general, reality is not for me, work shmork)

I don’t want to go to work tomorrow. If I had to pick any tree in the world to represent how I would personify work as a tree, it would be this tree I saw while hiking today:
img_0632
Scary jabberwocky tree!! What, you don’t see it? Well, good thing you have me here, looking out for you! Here is how to spot a scary ass jabberwocky tree:

jabberwocky-tree-explained
Do you see him now? Lewis Carroll’s jabberwocky ain’t got nothing on scary ass jabberwocky trees, indigenous to Austin with appetites for small dogs and blue cars. Or maybe the Jabberwocky of Alice got really tired and became a tree? Alas, the world may never know. But I still have to go to work tomorrow. Bah!

In other news here is a peacock!
img_0663b
Holy crap! I didn’t notice until I started importing this picture for my blog but that bird is giving me the freaking stink eye! How rude! Maybe he could smell the jabberwocky tree on me, because maybe peacocks are the only line of defense between us and monster trees so this guy was getting all riled up with anger. Or maybe peacocks are just jerks. I means, look at this crazy girl:

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Sure, she’s pretty and obviously knows it, but what is going on here? I’ve been to this park and observed (read: chased around with a camera) the peafowl for many years, and I’ve never seen a female get all riled up and crazy like this. And what was here problem, you ask? A mighty terrifying sight:

crazy-bird
NO! It’s just a freakin’ dove! Crazy bird!

(Ok, so the biologist side of me is forcing me to point out that she was just making sure her chick got to eat before the dove stole the food that was put down, but in all fairness even the chick was bigger than both of my cats put together, so give the poor little dove a break, you jerk bird!)

And some how I am still reminded of work…

In other, other news, I found another fabulous blog to obsess over!!

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denial ain't just a river, it's my state of being

February 12, 2009 at 11:18 pm (cold, continuing depression, jinxing myself, just pure awesome, mom, the boy, weirdness abounds)

i don’t want to think about what today really is for me, so instead here is a picture i took of the hawk that likes to hang out in the trees above the creek outside my office/lab. also work is still abysmal, my boss and i were supposed to meet yesterday to talk about how i am terrified that the students are going to make me lose my job and how uncomfortable i am around them, but she never showed up for the meeting. when i asked her about it her reply was, “i can’t remember why we were meeting, so it must not have been important!”

seriously.

anyway, here’s the hawk. today i saw him swoop down and catch a frog, maybe. or it could’ve been a rat or  small dragon or a gnome, i didn’t get a good look at it.

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the intended meal, be it frog, rat or gnome or other, is under the claw you can’t see. the hawk wouldn’t start eating while i was watching it. i try not to think that whatever small animal was caught by this majestic bird was originally some poor lab animal that escaped, only to be devoured. not only is that a shitty fate (but such an apt metaphor for life!) but imagine how many weird chemicals would be coursing through the hawk’s veins if it were true.  just for the record, all my rats are accounted for! no estrogen and/or pcb filled hawk treats are on my conscience, thank you very much.

also, how freakin’ awesome is this picture?

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the correct answer is, of course, quite. quite awesome indeed. and that’s the original pic, no color adjustment or anything. if you’re not from austin, just know that this monstrous fork (it’s probably 2 stories high, maybe?) is a classic landmark for a sorta so-so restaurant (sorry, sad but true, even if the hot waiters do flirt with me), and the object at impaled on the fork changes sometimes. for a while it was a sad looking birthday cake, and before that i think it was fries, maybe… anyway, the point is i was walking by today and snapped a picture around sunset and it turned out FANTASTIC! i plan to use it in my valentine for the boy. we never do valentines stuff, so this’ll be a surprise.

lastly, because i love a good photo-rich blog post, the boy and i went to a local sculpture garden that we’d never been to before a while back for our anniversary. my favorite thing there was that there were a ton of guard lion statues! you know, the kind that are paired up so they flank the entrance to a house or library or court house. oh, just look at the picture:
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i tried to skew the perspective on purpose because i thought he deserved to look as regal and majestic as possible, but it might still be obvious that this guy’s only about a foot tall. anyway, he was my favorite of the three or four pairs of lions we saw.

also, this statue, the last in a series of season statues on display in the sculpture garden, reminds me of my mom for some reason:
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the chin, maybe? but no, my mom and i have the same crazy pointed irish chin, so i don’t know if that’s it. maybe the tilt of her head? in any case, how apt is it that she represents winter? i know i haven’t been truly warm on the inside for four years, to the day.

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i don't like posts like this.

February 9, 2009 at 5:03 pm (history of meg, life in general, rants, reality is not for me, simply flabbergasted, so confused, work shmork)

I cannot stand double talkers. I cannot wait to get out of this job. I cannot handle hypocrites who blame me for their own short comings. I HATE that people try to diffuse their own faults by blaming me for anything and everything they can. I hate that my boss listens to them and not me. I hate that I am overqualified for every fucking job I have applied for. I hate that I am over worked, underpaid, and still cannot make ends meet. I hate rats. I hate the fluorescent bulbs in my office. I hate that I no longer feel comfortable with anyone I work with. I hate people who like to make my business their business. I hate that I have been as transparent as I fucking can be at this job and yet people still do not care to get to know me. I hate that I have been here two years. I hate that I only have a 1 in 5 chance of getting into this teaching program I’m applying for. I hate that someone will probably misinterpret this post. I hate that no one cares. I hate February. I hate that I am ostracized for doing my fucking job. I hate that no matter what I do, the fucking AlphaTroll continues to try to ruin my life. I hate that I can’t stay home with my cats all the time. I hate that the 12th is coming up. I hate that I recognize the 12th for what it is, the day my mom died, instead of forgetting about it all together. I hate that people tell me that they will be somewhere, then are not. I hate the way that my professional life has turned out. I hate that no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to turn it around.

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i'll probably need to double my meds this month

February 5, 2009 at 10:45 pm (continuing depression, mom)

It’s been quite a while since my last major panic attack, so I guess I was due one. I spent my lunch hour throwing myself at potential employers at a career fair, which while it did give me some hope that maybe I’ll be able to leave academia eventually, was pretty stressful in and of itself. Turns out some of the companies that I could work for actually don’t want someone who has been out of school as long as I have…um, what?? So the more real-world experience I have, the worse a candidate I am?!? Gah. Plus, tons of the jobs I could do are actually not in Austin. FANTASTIC. Then I get back to lab and… no one is there. I end up working alone for about six hours. Sure, the first hour or two were fine, I watched some Hulu and did a ton of work. But, humans are social creatures, and after a while, the lack of stimulation lead to my mind pondering less than pleasant thoughts. A combination of mind numbingly boring tissue slicing, stress and not speaking for several hours lead to thoughts of how I’ll be stuck in academic research forever with zero intellectual input, how I’ll never make enough money to ever cover all my bills in a month and buy food at the same time,  not to mention buy a house, how basically all but one or two people I work with only talk to me when they need something or are prepping to stab me in the back, how my education was basically for NOTHING, and how if only my mom hadn’t died my life might actually be okay.

Cue massive panic attack.

Fortunately I was done with work by the time it got really bad. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a hold of anyone to help pull me out of it. See, usually all it takes is a little distraction- a text or something, like I need something to derail my brain from the bad tracks and get it back on a good or at least neutral one. The sucky part is that I can’t seem to do it myself- I can’t just pick up a book mid panic attack and start reading to distract myself, or watch a movie or something- I can’t focus. So, instead I sent a million texts and sat on the bus and tried to keep from bawling. I am awesome!

And so, February begins again. The month I try very hard to focus on my mom’s birthday, not the day of her accident. So far? Epic fail. And there are still how many days to go? Fortunately the days I get panic attacks, I don’t get insomnia, so there a minor silver lining in this…right?

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Happy International Technician Week!!

February 4, 2009 at 5:57 pm (i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, jinxing myself, lessons in troll avoidance, life in general, work shmork)

So this week is apparently International Tech Week! As in, science and animal techs, not computer- you computer tech folks get paid waaaaay more than us science techs, so no week for you. It’s like in high school when I got all these lame achievement awards, but none of them came with scholarship money and they all came too late for college applications. Be glad you get more money rather than a week that no one will really notice, computer techs!

So, have you given your lab tech a break today? We bust our gonads for you academics while having to sit back and let you take all the credit, and be the brunt of all grad student freak outs, all so we can pay our damn student loans. The phrase “grin and bare it” does not even begin to cover it.

Oh, and I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the crazy student in my lab who has inspired me to continue my job search! I was almost comfortable in my position, I even have a really good relationship with my boss now, but you opened my eyes to the reality that I will never be fully accepted in this lab, which is fine. I didn’t get nearly $100,000 in debt to spend my life struggling to get by financially while dealing with fragile egos and defending students who shouldn’t be treated so badly in the first place. So thank you, thank you so much! Also, don’t rant on my blog, get your own, please. Read the disclaimer if you are confused.

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