numbers

April 6, 2009 at 9:25 am (life in general, thoughts and musings)

I like numbers. They do what the are supposed to and don’t get passive aggresive or poop or anything.

Number of hours I’ve work in the last two weeks: 120
Number of hours I will work this and next week: 110, at least
Number of hours I slept when I got home Saturday night: 12
Numbers of weeks I thought I had left until this job was over: 6
Number of weeks I actually have left: 8
Percentage I am disappointed by this: 100%

Days until my teaching test: 7
Days I need to feel confident I know everything that is covered on the test: 30
Actual number of days I will spend studying this week, probably: 3
Number of stress pimples I will probably develop as a result: 3-5

Percentage, on a low self-esteem day, that I feel like I’m making a mistake about switching careers: 50%
Percentage, on a good day, that I feel like I’m totally doing the right thing about my career: 100%

Number of people that I think will be disappointed by my hiding of my cleavage post: 18,3478,430,923
Probable actual number: 2

Number of cups of coffee that it will probably take for me to get through today: 12
Number I’ve had so far: 1
Probability I’ll be working at a coffee shop all day: 100%
Probability that I’ll spend most of the day watching hipsters pontificate about random crap instead of working: 100%
Probability that the coffee shop I’ll decide to work at will be the one where the guy living next door to it is super hot and walks around his backyard half naked: 150%

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I disturb myself

March 18, 2009 at 7:38 pm (thoughts and musings)

Dang it. This is what, according to Wordle, I’ve talked about the most in recent posts:
wordle-318While I’m not surprised “vagina” made it up there, it saddens me that “like” and “totally” are both big words. Is it because I was a child in the 80s? Or something more sinister, such as bad grammar fairies that live in my walls and come out at night to whisper badly formed sentences into my ear until my brain is filled with nothing but?

Dang it again. Now, instead of dutifully studying physics, I want to create grammar fairies out of polymer clay (have you seen my billy goat? He protects me from blog trolls!). And then smash them.

Physics must come first…there will be plenty of time for productive metaphor creations when I am certified to teach teenagers about work and energy and angular momentum…

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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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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:

card41

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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sometimes i wonder…

December 8, 2008 at 2:01 pm (jinxing myself, life in general, rants, thoughts and musings, um...)

While walking to work this morning I decided to cut through the museum part of campus rather than going by the law school or being super lazy and taking an extra bus. Very good choice on my part- I got to see random art and the dinosaur tracks that have been on display since I was a little kid. On the way, though, I started to wonder: do I have boogers on my face? ‘Cause I walked by two different people who just gave me crazy stares when I said hello. One was a pretty cute music professor, the other was just a mean old man (or at least that’s how I remember him). Both just stared at my face as they walked by; the cute one had a bemused look, while the old guy just looked mean and angry. So I reiterate: did I have boogers on my face? That’s the only explanation I can think of. That or it was just sorta early in the morning on a day when no one really should’ve been on campus. That’s right, it’s finals time! Or rather, the days before finals when there are no classes, just lots of illegal review sessions (technically you’re not supposed to have any during this time, but everyone does anyway). I wonder if the two people thought I was a student who should’ve been hiding in a library somewhere, studying? People ask me all the time if I’m a student. Is it ’cause I look young? Or maybe because I take the bus? Or is that just the safe thing to ask people? ‘Cause let me tell you, I am not student age any more. 27, people! I’m supposed to have a real job and goals and a house and some kids and stuff by now. HA! That’s me, always disrupting people’s preconceived notions of what I’m “supposed” to be…

****

The weather in Austin is all poopy and Texas-y. We have a saying, “if you don’t like the weather, just wait a minute!” meaning that the weather goes all schitzo in the winter and refuses to say the same for more than two days at a time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fan of cold and I’m super happy it rarely ever snows here. But it’s freakin’ December, people. The highs should no longer be in the upper 70s. I’m tired of having to seriously debate in the morning if it is worth putting on socks or not. Also, we have all these omnious clouds rolling over head all the time, but no rain. LAME!

****

I have a phone interview on Wednesday with the head of my old department…I’m pretty sure he hates me so I don’t really know how this will go. Ok, so I totally know how it will go. He hates me so he’ll ask me lots of “you’re so stupid” questions then decided randomly that I can’t work for the department. Whatever. I’m also pretty sure I didn’t get this other super awesome job that would’ve let me travel around the world, imparting scientific knowledge on people. Of course, they won’t tell me how much they aren’t going to hire me until they “finish interviewing” which I think is unnecessarily cruel. Jerks. I should know by next Friday, bleh.

****

Alright, mini rant time. I am tired of making crafts for people who do not appreciate them. Worse, I’m tired of being around people who just expect me to make them things. The people at work who just bust out with “Hey, where’s my (random awesomely crafted thing by meg)” or “You better be working on my (crafty thing)” make me want to stop crafting forever. Not to mention the person who said “I want to learn how to make jewelry like you, but I want mine to look professional.” Well, no more crafty goodies for you, jerk. I gotta go craft some awesome things for people who like them to make myself feel better…

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random goodies

November 18, 2008 at 8:28 pm (bus bloggin', thoughts and musings)

I just discovered that I can blog from my phone! Horray, something else to do on the bus to avoid eye contact with all the crazies! The only “downside” is that I can’t seem to keep my “no uppercase letters” theme going, but maybe that’s ok. Maybe it’s time to use capital letters like a real person. We’ll see. I’ve never really prided myself on being a “real” person.

Some thoughts:
-did I use “prided myself” correcly? ‘Cause it looks all wonky to me.
-why the hell are there so many quotation marks in this post so far?
-I probably totally look like a lame scene or sorority chick, sitting on the bus stop bench, typing away at my phone. Don’t worry people, I don’t actually have any friends to text. Cue sad laugh! Also I’m way too old to know what “scene” means.
-Oooh, a text from Yee Yee! Too bad it’s all about how she got a cool comment from the bloggess while all I got was a scolding.

In other news, today at work I had an unfortunate encounter with gravity. See, gravity and I are not on good terms. I like standing up and walking sometimes, and gravity seems to think that occasionally I just need to fall flat on my face, and the more joints I twist on the way down, the better. So today, on the way to lunch, I was minding my own business, about to cross the street, when suddenly POW!!! I fall on my damn face. Or technically, I skidded in a patch of gravel, fell, and caught myself on my left knee and both palms, springing up lightly and laughing it off while my coworker freaked out. And then I took a step and realized, “hey, that ankle that you haven’t ever twisted before? Yup, toooootally twisted the crap out of it this time. Have fun!” Well, f*ck you, gravity. The best part was that immediately after I fell and started walking again, the truck that had stopped at the light pulled a quick u-turn, as if to say “quick, the gravity is too high in that area! Evacuate!” or possibly “holy sh*tballs, that girl is nuts. We need to get out of here before she comes after us.” Either is equally possible, I think. I wonder if there is a way to blame my problems with gravity on my boobs…

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high school all over again- but this time i'm ready

October 30, 2008 at 9:47 am (life in general, thoughts and musings)

hahaha! i think i’m officially the “social outcast” in my lab! all at the behest of the queen bee, i’m sure. that’s actually a good thing- now, if/when i find a super great paying job, it’ll be that much easier to leave this one behind.

i’ve never fit into any groups, at any point in my life. i’ve always been the odd girl who does crazy stuff. in school, this of course led to me being picked on, etc, but never stopped me from doing my own thing and loving my hobbies. in seventh grade, my latin teacher asked everyone in class to talk about what they got for xmas, etc. i was really excited that i had gotten a microscope, so i said so- and the whole class laughed at me. in sixth grade, my incredibly politically incorrect science teacher asked us to raise our hands if we supported abortion- i was the only person in class who did so, and she pounced on me. the only place where i started to find people like me was in band in high school, but even then it was hard to find people who loved playing their instrument for the shear joy of it, like i did. most people seemed to take it just so they could get out of gym and get into football games for free, or because their parents made them. or even just so they could belong to something.

now that i’m all old (haha) i’m actually proud of myself for always sticking to my guns. someone once asked me “do you ever hate yourself?” and i was flabbergasted by the question. how can you hate yourself? i had to learn the hard way that in life, you are the only absolute for yourself. you are the only person you can fully trust- people have their own agendas, all the time, and if you put your faith in others you will most likely be let down. not that i’m a massive pessimist, quite the contrary- i’m usually a cheerful optimist. but i only really became an optimist when i “came into myself”- when i realized that i like who i am and that i have to be strong for myself. i live with my mistakes and my accomplishments. there’s no point crying over spilled milk, people, what’s spilled is spilled- just mop it up and get ready to face the next spill. one of the strongest and hardest lessons i had to learn after my mom died was to not ask why in some situations- just be ready to face whatever is next. and always take joy where you can, because there are those people and situations out there that will try their hardest to break you down. just like high school.

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