Squirrel behavior, part 2- the scientific method

March 16, 2009 at 10:18 pm (animal behavior, i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, insomnia, jinxing myself, simply flabbergasted, weirdness abounds)

We all know I loves me some science, as long as rat vaginas are not directly involved. Last week I posited the question, “what is this squirrel thinking?” and it turns out the correct answer was given by Kurt: “I think he’s plowed on fermented berries and is telling the tree “NO! No! I LOVE you, Man!!”.” This conclusion has since been supported by the following evidence.

This is normal squirrel behavior:
img_0821bShe’s* all “oh, hey, look, I’m a squirrel and I am foraging, looking all cute and stuff! If you are a scientist, back the fuck off! I know what you guys do in that lab of yours, you perverts!” You know, normal squirrel behavior.

This is how I found crazy squirrel the other day:
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This is an instance of scientific observation that can only be described as “What the fuck??” I have been watching campus squirrels for almost 10 years now (sigh) and I have never seen crazy hangover-type behavior like this before. Oh, and he’s not dead- soon after I took this shot, he moved into a hole in the tree and proceeded to watch me, all creepy-drunk-peeping-tom-squirrel style:

drunk-squirrel1
So we can see that someone has been partying way too hard without inviting me, which is totally uncool because I had to molest many, many rats today and if anyone needs a drink, it’s me.  That or possibly that is an anti-gravity tree so he’s hanging on for dear life, and only barely made it to the hole before flying off into space. That’s how science works, people, you gotta examine all the possibilities.

Moral of the story? Not only do we have to watch out for scary jabberwocky trees, but also anti gravity trees and/or trees filled with hungover squirrels. It seems like trees were much safer when I was a kid and all they did was fling me to the ground at high rates of speed. I’m pretty sure my cocyx got broken once, but I never had to be on the lookout for drunk rodents! Also, while we’re on the subject of stuff and being old**, how come stuff takes so long now?? For example, it apparently has taken me 30 minutes to write this blog! I did have to adjust the pictures from their original 290844789 pixel size to something that wouldn’t crush the interwebs, but still, 30 minutes?!? And holy crap, studying takes me more time now, too! I’m brushing up*** on my physics for this massive test you have to take to be a science teacher in Texas, and it took me all night to read three chapters. Three chapters of easy stuff that I already know. How the hell did I do this in college??

Oh, right. I didn’t bother reading in college. Also I didn’t have a full time job. Also my brain wasn’t all higgedly-piggedly and in need of antidepressants. Also I have to get lots of sleep now in order to be fresh enough to face work and its crazies (including, yes, the rat vaginas. Don’t act like you didn’t want to hear about them again!), wheras in college as long as I got 5 hours I was just fine. Well, suck it. I don’t know who needs to suck it, specifically, but surely someone is in dire need of a good “suck it!”

I’m so tired. So many rat vaginas await me in the morning…

Time for sleep…

*It’s very easy to tell if a squirrel is a boy or girl. As Dr. FianceHusband puts it, the boys carry around an “air conditioning unit.” Seriously, their balls are bigger than their heads. Evolution- go figure!

**Old = 27 in my case = maybe I’m just lame.

***Brushing up = poking the brain cells that already know this stuff but went into hybernation once they figured out they were not needed for grad school. Hopefully the massive amounts of drinking I did in grad school did not kill those brain cells ’cause I need them now. Otherwise I might as well find myself a nice tree hole to live in and stock up on the rum!****

****That’s right, I will be teaching children soon (assuming I pass this test). I think now is a good time to look into homeschooling.

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Only 2 and a half more months until I am DONE WITH RAT VAGINAS FOREVER!!!

March 16, 2009 at 9:46 am (jinxing myself, just pure awesome)

Holy crap, people, I got into my fancy-shmancy teaching certification program!! Out of over 1100 applicants, only 150 are chosen and I am one of those nerds!! I’m so freakin’ happy, you have no idea. I’ve never gone into this before on this blog, because it’s sorta gross in the abstract and I’m scared of PETA, but I work with rat vaginas a lot.* Long story short, looking at the cells of the rat vagina tell us what reproductive cycle the rat is in- it’s not like we can ask the rats, “hey, are you crampy? Do you want some chocolate? Do you hate yourself?**” to find out if they are fertile or not. So, I have to examine rat vaginas. For a living. A lot. While my allergies try to kill me and my brain is screaming “GROSS. What is that?? GROOOOOOOOSS!”

But the silver lining is that unless I die of rat dander induced anaphylactic shock in the next two months, the end is in sight!! I’ll be leaving the lab FINALLY in June to go learn to be a teacher!  I’ll take surly high school kids over toxic rat vaginas*** and bastard grad students any day. Especially since it pays waaaaaaay more.

I have much more to blog about, including drunk squirrels, a burlesque show, Spamalot, etc, but it’ll have to wait, I have another 27 rat vaginas to assess…only 2 and a half more months, only 2 and a half more months…

*Just to clarify, they are still attached to intact, live rats at the time. It’s totally painless to the rats, and in fact after a few days they start to really enjoy it. Like I said, GROSS.

**I don’t know if this happens to anyone else but I totally have shit self esteem when I’m fertile, or just after. What’s up with that? Evolutionarily, that makes no sense what so ever.

***How awesome a band name is “Toxic Rat Vaginas”? Total lady punk, we-hate-dudes type music, I think. Not that I hate dudes, I’m rather fond of them, actually, so much so that I had an awkward dream about a hot professor. And by awkward I mean he walked around in a speedo a lot and I blushed and ran away. Which is actually what I would do in real life.  Because I’m awesome like that.

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If waiting were personified, it would be a big, fat, mean jerk

March 9, 2009 at 8:54 am (jinxing myself, why do i do these things?, work shmork)

GAH! F*ck you, waiting! I hate waiting on interview results, especially. So, the big teaching interview I have been alluding to was this past Saturday. Technically, it’s not to get a teaching job, but to get into this advanced fancypants teaching certificate program- you do six weeks of training, then start teaching right away. The “interview” was a day long event where I had to prepare a five minute teaching sample, participate in a “discussion group”, do some “writing samples”, and finally, at the end of the day, do the actually interview. What a bunch of hooey. The teaching sample went well- I talked about the physiology of the stomach, and I can teach your pants off so that was no problem. The writing sample and discussion were bull-hockey- the questions were along the lines of “you are a new teacher and your principal is yelling at you that your grades suck. What do you do?” How the hell should I know?? I don’t know anything about the culture of being a teacher, I just know how to teach people stuff. The interview reiterated these questions so I made up some nonsense that in retrospect was basically verbal diarrhea (which, technically, is called logorrhea- look it up, fools!). Bah.

The good news is that they will let us know their decision with in a week. I can only hope that the people who were shit instructors but had really good bullshit answers for the bullshit questions are judged accordingly, since I was in the category of “good teaching, not putting up with bullshit questions.” Sigh. Especially annoying were the people who went off on their soapbox diatribes instead of answering the actual questions we were asked to discuss- yes, dude, standardized testing is super stupid, but we’re supposed to be discussing whether or not it is the teacher’s responsibility to make sure students succeed, and the way the state determines that is through standardized testing, so stop pontificating and let someone who knows what the hell the question is about get a word in. Not that I’m judging.

In other news, I completely hate Daylight Savings time. F*ck you, Ben Franklin! I don’t actually know if he was the one who started Daylight savings, but I also don’t actually care to look it up. I do care that it is now pitch black when I wake up, which sucks some serious donkey parts.

In other, other news, I dyed my hair this weekend so that I wouldn’t go to my interview with hair that was two inches dark blonde, four inches light blonde, because my hair is crazy and hates me. I had intended to go all auburn, so it’ll fade properly (have I mentioned my hair defies logic?), but the color the stylist recommended came out crazy, crazy red…it looks ok, but let’s just say the interviewers won’t be forgetting me. That’s a good thing, right? Sigh. Also, here is a conversation my stylist and I had, where I should’ve realized I was in trouble:

Her: Have you done red/auburn before?
Me: Yeah, many times
Her: Oh thank goodness. So you know it may not turn out exactly like we expected, right?
Me: …

Whatever, it came out cool in the end. I’d totally post a picture but 1) it would ruin my secret agent cover on this blog and 2) I’m not good at taking pictures of myself, myspace-angle-style, unless there is a cat in my face.

Off to check my email for the millionth time in hopes that I have received my “we love you, join our program” email…

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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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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.

img_0611b
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?

img_0623
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:
img_0403
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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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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i can't roll my eyes back any further than this

February 2, 2009 at 12:02 pm (blog-a-day!, jinxing myself, rants, stupid grad school)

Long ago, this blog was started as a way for me to deal with losing my mom. It also turned into a way to vent about how much I hated grad school, and you can’t bitch about grad school without bitching about your adviser, right? I always thought it was funny when I got comments from friends in grad school in other places along the lines of “Wow, how come your program sucks so bad? Mine is great!” followed by, 6 months to a year later, “Holy crap, you were right, grad school sucks!” comments. ‘Cause face it, people, grad school really does suck. It is a special kind of torture that science students put themselves through in order to become either completely disillusioned* by science or to go so deeply into denial about how bad academic science is run that they become professors and propagate the crappiness inherent in the system. If you decide that the whole system of publish-or-perish is not worth dealing with get-grants-or-starve work that they never tell you about when you are in school dreaming about becoming a scientist, you skip the Ph.D. ritual and opt to become a tech rather than a prof.

One thing you realize in grad school is that every single mildly sane grad student has a hobby of some sort, which they didn’t start until they got to grad school. I was actually talking about this with my boss yesterday- she plays violin and has forever, but didn’t really get back into playing in quartets until she was in grad school. I took up crafting in grad school, and one of my labmates became obbessed with dog rescues while another started volunteering with an elder hostel…the list goes on and on. The madness induced by the frustrations of being a grad student have to be balanced by or taken out on some completely unrelated event. The people who I see burning themselves out on work and wanting to drop out of science completely are the ones with no outside interests at all.

ANYWAY, the point of this post was actually to talk about how my graduate adviser recently, after two years, got back in touch with me. We have a long (professional) history- he was my mentor when I was in college and I developed a serious hero worship complex with him- he did the kind of science I wanted to do and was passionate about the same animals I was (elamsobranchs- look it up, kids). Then I got to grad school and he was a major jerk. I’m talking serious favoritism to the my lab mates, who were boys and definite “cool kids,” while I was a lowly girl with serious depression issues in desperate need of guidance which I totally did not get. Needless to say, I graduated with some serious resentment towards him. I even have a comment about it on my Facebook page- something along the lines of “I am awesome now and my old adviser, who said I would never be awesome, can suck it.” Now, I would like to point out to the universe that Facebook is not a professional website. It is a silly place to catch up with friends and see who got fat. Thus my comment about what I do now vs. grad school- I want people to see that I do awesome science techniques now, despite being told in grad school that, and this is a direct quote, I was a “waste of resources” and “would never make it in the sciences” (my adviser had a temper tantrum at me, which hardened my resolve to continually think evil thoughts at him). On Facebook. Where it doesn’t matter.

So, recently, randomly, my adviser has gotten back in touch with me. On Facebook. Even though he has my email and phone number. So, my Facebook page is super secret private, so I knew he’d never see it. Plus I don’t care. It’s just Facebook. No one cares. But I forgot that when you message people on Facebook, they can see your page. Poop. Well, whatever, he knew there’s no love lost between us, since we haven’t communicate in two years.

*I was very confused about why I kept screwing up how to spell this word. Turns out I was writing “dis-solution-ed.” I am awesome.

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you win some, you lose some

January 31, 2009 at 6:34 pm (hero worship, i'm too old to be a fangirl but..., jinxing myself, just pure awesome, life in general, thoughts and musings)

Dear lab mate who is currently mad at me: I’ve called you, emailed you, and even went by your place, please get back to me. Obviously we both said things that pissed the other off, but in the end I think we are both actually arguing the same side of this argument. Let’s talk about it and move on.

In other news, I got my first troll!! To mark this momentous occasion I am awarding myself this badge from the Bloggess:

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Good times. I’m trying not to let it get to me. I also really like this one:card1

In other, completely different and completely AWESOME news, I met one of my scientific idols last night. I got to talk to him, shake his hand, tell him how much I admired his work and ask him if he was looking for grad students (to which he said- yes!). It was pretty freakin’ awesome. For a good part of the question/answer section, he was only a few feet from me!! Then I started thinking, this guy is such a good speaker, and so well known and respected, and gives talks all over the world…so he’s probably not actually in the lab very often any more. So first of all, he’s got to have a kick ass lab manager (it’s funny how I think about these things now…) and second, I don’t think I could work in a lab where the adviser was never around. Plus, why am I even thinking about going back to grad school anyway? That’s how good his talk was, people.

In further hero worship, I sent my old high school physics teacher an email last night, because after seeing super science guy talk, I realized I need to tell the other people that have touched my life in a positive way that they are awesome. So, he’s a prof in education now, but he sent me an email back with in hours of my emailing him! And was still as great as I remember. See, this guy was a really, really enthusiastic teacher, and actually made physics fun. I know that sounds all cliche, but seriously, I would think about his lectures when I was in college physics, which I despised. The thing is, this is the first time I’ve reached out to a hero and they’ve actually gotten back to me in a good way instead of a “um, whatever, weirdo” way. Opening yourself up to your heroes is not easy, so to have one actually communicate back and still be as awesome as you thought… I am speechless. Ok, maybe not, that never really happens. I am really moved, though.

And in more strange news, my old grad adviser, who I haven’t heard from in two years and who I was pretty sure hated me when I left his lab (and let’s not forget he once told me I would never get any where in science) has gotten back in touch with me. Part of me thinks “hey, this guy totally did me a disservice when I was his grad student, he can continue to suck it,” but another side of me really wants to go with the “hey, this guy was a great undergrad mentor and teacher and got me into endocrinology in the first place and…” thoughts. I am conflicted but I do hate grudges and enjoy taking the high road. Plus who else can I talk sharky hormone work with? Damn it…

I have a new hero, too- a girl who works in a lab upstairs from me is a super awesome lady and she’s going to teach me how to make cheese! My lactose-intolerance can totally suck it, I might never leave the kitchen again.

Ok, hero worship over. Time for crafting! I leave you with the following tenets that I enjoyed reading (written by Nassim Nicholas Taleb and found on Boing Boing):

1 Scepticism is effortful and costly. It is better to be sceptical about matters of large consequences, and be imperfect, foolish and human in the small and the aesthetic.

2 Go to parties. You can’t even start to know what you may find on the envelope of serendipity. If you suffer from agoraphobia, send colleagues.

3 It’s not a good idea to take a forecast from someone wearing a tie. If possible, tease people who take themselves and their knowledge too seriously.

4 Wear your best for your execution and stand dignified. Your last recourse against randomness is how you act — if you can’t control outcomes, you can control the elegance of your behaviour. You will always have the last word.

5 Don’t disturb complicated systems that have been around for a very long time. We don’t understand their logic. Don’t pollute the planet. Leave it the way we found it, regardless of scientific ‘evidence’.

6 Learn to fail with pride — and do so fast and cleanly. Maximise trial and error — by mastering the error part.

7 Avoid losers. If you hear someone use the words ‘impossible’, ‘never’, ‘too difficult’ too often, drop him or her from your social network. Never take ‘no’ for an answer (conversely, take most ‘yeses’ as ‘most probably’).

8 Don’t read newspapers for the news (just for the gossip and, of course, profiles of authors). The best filter to know if the news matters is if you hear it in cafes, restaurants… or (again) parties.

9 Hard work will get you a professorship or a BMW. You need both work and luck for a Booker, a Nobel or a private jet.

10 Answer e-mails from junior people before more senior ones. Junior people have further to go and tend to remember who slighted them.

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oh dear.

January 29, 2009 at 11:04 pm (about books, i'm too old to be a fangirl but..., jinxing myself, life in general, simply flabbergasted, work shmork)

If you are ever feeling like you are the most awkward and awful person on the planet and that no one could ever stick their foot farther in their own mouth than you just did, just walk into your nearest academic research laboratory and wait. Sooner or later, someone will say something so fantastically ignorant and self indulgent that you will realize that you are, in fact, more normal and level headed than you thought. Trust me on this. I think it has something to do with how we were all nerds as kids. Sometimes it’s me, but usually the students in my lab say what they think is clever but is actually incredibly horrible. Case in point: don’t put down an entire religion while someone of that religion is standing only two feet away. Seriously, people. Think it through. I don’t tell my sushi-loving friends about all the horrible parasites they could be ingesting while they are eating their sashimi, and that’s actual science. It’s just common sense and decency.

Sigh.

Also, Neil Gaiman never Twittered me back but I think I’ll survive. I wonder if Jim Butcher or Christopher Golden Twitter?

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false advertisement

January 20, 2009 at 3:38 pm (jinxing myself, work shmork)

So, while the rest of the world watched Obama get inaugurated (OBAMAAAAAA!!!!),  I went to my interview today…and the job is all about cleaning transformers! And not even cool robot transformers, but super scary and electrified, PCB-filled transformers. I don’t want to do that! Why didn’t they say that in the damn job posting?? Not only that, but I’d be one of only three women in the whole damn company- and when I was told this, I was also told “oh, and one is a retiree…” Well, then, she doesn’t count, does she, since she’s not working there any more! Plus for all my love of cake, I am still a tiny delicate girl compared to the huge bulky dudes who interviewed me. Not that I couldn’t totally do and rock that job, but I’m trying to get a more respectable (read: clean) job, not an even dirtier one.

So now the question becomes: if they for some reason decide to offer me the job, and at a few more bucks an hour than I make now, will I take it? Hmm… Well, I’m pretty sure this won’t come up, so I don’t have to worry about it. Why? ‘Cause no one wants to hire me! Sigh…

PS. I hate the dentist. Seriously. I have a blinding fear of going to dentists that started when I was 7 and had to get a root canal. Every time I go the dentist says “oh, you have bone spurs under your gum line…hm, maybe we should do something about it” and I say “NO! Just fix the cavity and clean my teeth, please” because like hell will I let those sadists mess up my mouth any more, and also I love candy.

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