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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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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(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:
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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:

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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!
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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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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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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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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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dear universe,

January 19, 2009 at 9:23 pm (dear universe, work shmork) (, )

Ok, universe, the last of my interviews from my mad application flurry is tomorrow, so let’s try to get this one right, hmm?

Actually, I’ve basically given up on the job market. I’m going to work in ratty hell for the rest of my life, or at least until my boss retires. Then I’m extra screwed. The good news is that she’ll probably never retired, because she keeps getting tons of awards and grants and stuff. The bad news is that my rat allergy seems to be even more powerful than most of my allergy meds- the exception being benedryl, but my boss tends to appreciate me more when I am actually awake at work…

I decided it might be a good idea to look up the details for the job I’m interviewing for tomorrow (because seriously, there have been a millions it seems, which in real life numbers is 50), and found out it’s actually a job I would enjoy- environmental specialist agent- which of course means I totally won’t get it. Way to think positive, me! But really, would it end up being a job where I start out totally loving it, and then end up being totally disillusioned by society through it? Probably.

Think good thoughts for me anyways, universe! It makes me sad that I can’t hang out with the cool people at work because the less cool people then bitch about it to the boss, who them writes me up as being “unprofessional” for no real reason! Plus this job involves exercise, which I need!

love,
Megan

PS. I can’t figure out either how to turn categories off or how to take off the tags I tried out, so instead it looks like I am stupid or OCD or something. Whatever. Really I’m just too lazy to look it up.

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how to start your monday properly

January 12, 2009 at 10:30 am (blog-a-day!, cats, life in general, work shmork)

Step 1. Drink your coffee out of this mug:img_0323
Step 2: Drink lots of coffee from that mug.
Step 3: Put on your sexy boots, the amazing ones that don’t hurt your feet, even if they don’t really match your outfit.
Step 4: Spend a little extra time with the cats, especially if they are trying to sleep:

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Step 5: Repeat as needed.

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back to work

January 5, 2009 at 9:44 pm (blog-a-day!, cats, continuing depression, life in general, work shmork)

I had to go back to work today after two weeks off…sadly they were not a restful two weeks, since half the time was spent running around after family and the other half was spent being incredibly ill, but whatever. So, most of the time I actually really like work- we do cool research and most of the time I just get my assignments and do lots of work on my own, with out the boss breathing down my neck. I especially like work during intercession (the two weeks between the semesters)- no students mean I get lots of work done! Plus it turns out my boss is super famous now, so that’s cool. I just wish being a tech involved making more money. Apparently the prestige of working on a big campus is supposed to make up for the lack of salary that private sector techs get. See, prestige doesn’t pay the student loans, people. Hence my almost complete abandonment of all my hopes and dreams to become a fancy successful marine biologist. Bah!

Anyway, today was an ok work day, which means I’m suspicious of the rest of the week. And the rest of the semester. And basically the rest of my life. Bleh. Stupid gloomy day has given me a stupid bad mood. No more talk. Just cat pictures.

Kiwi and his paper bag:

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Moon and her box:
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Time for bed. Then more work. Repeat. Forever.

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