by God! Who knew!?
article
December 29, 2008
December 28, 2008
things I bought myself for Christmas
- green curry tofu. I missed it soooooooooo much.
- Wilco, Being There. It's an old album, but it's new to me.
- House of the Spirits, Isabella Allende.
- a haircut. I really really needed it.
The above picture is Yoko Ono at age 74 [FYI: I am a Beatles fan that loves Yoko. The Beatles needed to break up anyway, otherwise they'd be making shit like the last Rolling Stones album]. Yoko claims that eating a lot of curry keeps you from aging and can make you live forever. I think she also said that about heroin. One of the two is obviously correct, because look at her legs! I absolutely do not want to live forever. Correction: I would not want to live forever unless I could eat a different kind of curry every day: Massamun, red, yellow, jalfrezi, masala... mmm curry.
Edit: I just took a shower and I can smell the curry coming out of my skin. No more curry for a few days. I have some plans that require me to smell like a human being.
December 23, 2008
MOAR JOY
I was supposed to go downtown today, but this is as far as I can get out of my house:
because it's been snowing for three days straight.
So I spent the day baking!
I am sooooooooo domestic.
because it's been snowing for three days straight.
So I spent the day baking!
I am sooooooooo domestic.
December 22, 2008
CHRISTMAS JOY
I had these big plans to spend a lot of time at home away from home to minimize the amount of hair I pull out of my head. HOWEVER, Chicagoland is suddenly covered by "dibilitating snow" and -30 degree windchill weather, so no one is supposed to leave their house, let alone bar-hop and shop their way to sanity/freedom. Yesterday I tried to go downtown (because I am obviously a crazy person with no regard for my personal well-being and only care about shopping and eating pho with Shelby) but the train switches were frozen, so I couldn't get there. It's probably for the best, but damnit, I want some Asian food. I also really need to get out of the house.
Yesterday my mom was sick, and my dad had to deal with basic food preparation all day, so he's in a bad mood. Honestly-- he had to make oatmeal, toast a bagel, spread cream cheese on it, and at dinner, he had to put stir fry on his own plate. These wimmentasks have obviously raised his estrogen levels so high that he's entering physiological PMS. All yesterday and all this morning, he has been doing bizarrely unproductive cleaning tasks, like washing my breakfast dishes before I am done eating and picking up random things and demanding to know if I needed to keep them (they aren't even mine!).
Two months ago, my mother forced my dad and me to get a flu shot and claimed that she would have no exposure to the flu so she wouldn't need one. Now she claims she has the flu, and it's our fault. I'm not sure that people who have the flu have enough energy to go to the gym for two hours then come home and scream at people/cats, but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt so that I can revel in my frustration that I have a degree in biology and she won't let me advise her about how viruses are actually spread. (Honestly, I'm not an expert or anything, but I do understand basic disease transmission. "The only place I go is the gym, where I am certainly not exposed to airborne fluids coming off hundreds of sweating potential flu virus carriers!" OKAY MOM.)
In summary, in case you can't make it through all of that bah humbuggery, MERRY CHRISTMAS from my family insane asylum.
Yesterday my mom was sick, and my dad had to deal with basic food preparation all day, so he's in a bad mood. Honestly-- he had to make oatmeal, toast a bagel, spread cream cheese on it, and at dinner, he had to put stir fry on his own plate. These wimmentasks have obviously raised his estrogen levels so high that he's entering physiological PMS. All yesterday and all this morning, he has been doing bizarrely unproductive cleaning tasks, like washing my breakfast dishes before I am done eating and picking up random things and demanding to know if I needed to keep them (they aren't even mine!).
Two months ago, my mother forced my dad and me to get a flu shot and claimed that she would have no exposure to the flu so she wouldn't need one. Now she claims she has the flu, and it's our fault. I'm not sure that people who have the flu have enough energy to go to the gym for two hours then come home and scream at people/cats, but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt so that I can revel in my frustration that I have a degree in biology and she won't let me advise her about how viruses are actually spread. (Honestly, I'm not an expert or anything, but I do understand basic disease transmission. "The only place I go is the gym, where I am certainly not exposed to airborne fluids coming off hundreds of sweating potential flu virus carriers!" OKAY MOM.)
In summary, in case you can't make it through all of that bah humbuggery, MERRY CHRISTMAS from my family insane asylum.
December 20, 2008
A few weeks ago, before bedtime, I encountered the worst thing that an insectophobic single person can find when she is exhausted and hoping to get a good night's sleep: a palmetto bug (read: GIANT FLYING ROACH) hanging out on the ceiling above my bed.
To make a long story short, I had to chase it around my room with a can of Raid for 20 minutes until I had finally sprayed it enough to kill it, and by the time the whole ordeal was over, I was too freaked out to sleep at all. Since then, I've been having nightmares almost nightly about waking up with insects in my bed, crawling out of the walls, etc. Sometimes I hear my heating vents rattle and I'm convinced that a roach the size of Paris Hilton's dog is skulking around up there.
Is there some kind of hypnosis that could benefit me? Something that would make me think of roaches in the same tomboyish way that I think of spiders, worms, snakes, toads, and mice? Could that remedy be delivered to me in a vodka tonic or tequila shot? Please advise.
To make a long story short, I had to chase it around my room with a can of Raid for 20 minutes until I had finally sprayed it enough to kill it, and by the time the whole ordeal was over, I was too freaked out to sleep at all. Since then, I've been having nightmares almost nightly about waking up with insects in my bed, crawling out of the walls, etc. Sometimes I hear my heating vents rattle and I'm convinced that a roach the size of Paris Hilton's dog is skulking around up there.
Is there some kind of hypnosis that could benefit me? Something that would make me think of roaches in the same tomboyish way that I think of spiders, worms, snakes, toads, and mice? Could that remedy be delivered to me in a vodka tonic or tequila shot? Please advise.
Want to know something that makes no sense? (If not: why are you reading this blog?)
In North Carolina, I have tons of crap to do all the time, and it's really important. It's my future that's at stake, sometimes. I get it done, and I don't feel overwhelming stress about it. I'm in Chicago now, and somehow every second seems overburdened with stress, making it hard to accomplish anything-- even though there are literally two things on my omnipresent "to do" list, and neither of them are particularly difficult.
Normally I'd be able to say it's because my mother is harping on me, or something... but she really isn't at all. It's been really nice, as if they are starting to admit to themselves that what they feel about my relocation is not outrage, but a sensation of missing my sometimes unpleasantly liberal and outlandish but otherwise irreplicable* quirky presence. I'm sure none of their friends gush adoringly about the differences between activation kinetics of sodium and potassium channels and how they influence the shape of an action potential. God, I'm getting hot just thinking about it.
*not a real word. What's an antonym for replicable?
** Should I start tagging my posts? Do people use tags?
In North Carolina, I have tons of crap to do all the time, and it's really important. It's my future that's at stake, sometimes. I get it done, and I don't feel overwhelming stress about it. I'm in Chicago now, and somehow every second seems overburdened with stress, making it hard to accomplish anything-- even though there are literally two things on my omnipresent "to do" list, and neither of them are particularly difficult.
Normally I'd be able to say it's because my mother is harping on me, or something... but she really isn't at all. It's been really nice, as if they are starting to admit to themselves that what they feel about my relocation is not outrage, but a sensation of missing my sometimes unpleasantly liberal and outlandish but otherwise irreplicable* quirky presence. I'm sure none of their friends gush adoringly about the differences between activation kinetics of sodium and potassium channels and how they influence the shape of an action potential. God, I'm getting hot just thinking about it.
*not a real word. What's an antonym for replicable?
** Should I start tagging my posts? Do people use tags?
December 18, 2008
December 14, 2008
RANT
Okay, this was going to be a rant, but instead I'm just going to calmly state that every Sunday, I call my grandparents, and they basically let me know that they think I am living in North Carolina because
- I want to "punish" our family by living in a state that isn't Illinois
- I couldn't get a job anywhere else
- I'm rebelling against jobs that earn money
- I'm rebelling against my Catholic upbringing by being a science pagan hippie liberal misanthrope (though this may be partially true, there would be way more effective ways to accomplish it than moving to North Carolina to get a PhD. For example: working for PETA, writing a sex column, becoming a professional groupie, moving to France and not bathing, interning for Barack Obama)
December 13, 2008
I love older Southern women. The stereotypical kind-- you know what I mean. They have this particular accent and way of speaking that would sound out of place on anyone else. Their hair is permed. They love food. They call you sweetie. In fact, they remind me of my paternal grandmother MINUS the martyr complex and offbeat pre-dementia, PLUS a more mothering attitude.
This week I discovered that my new-I'm-a-semi-grownup-with-my-very-own health insurance covered the HPV vaccine. My catholic parents would not let me have the HPV vaccine because they don't really understand the research on it-- more than that, they don't really understand how vaccines work. They also don't understand that even if you only have sex with the one person you marry, you can still get a disease. They told me if I wanted it, it would cost about $400 dollars and I would have to pay for it myself.
Anyway, when I discovered that I could get the vaccine using my own health insurance, I decided to do the responsible thing. I made an appointment and showed up 20 minutes early. No one was there except the vaccination nurse. She was ordering breakfast sandwiches for the office and asked me if I wanted one. I said no, thanks. She prepared me for the shot, telling me it would hurt. After I told her I'd had the flu shot, she said "Oh, no, honey, people tell me this is way worse than that!" and gleefully stuck the syringe into my arm.
HOLY BALLS it hurt! I'm strange because I've always, since I was a toddler, morbidly enjoyed getting shots. This was pretty unpleasant, though. After the injection, there was this burning sensation in my muscle for about two minutes, and for the next few hours, aching. But I love older southern women. In Chicago, some disillusioned and vitamin D deficient nurse would have dispassionately sent me on my neurotic way, leaving me to worry about insurance payments, side effects, and deltoid muscle atrophy. This woman gave me a little pat, told me I'd feel better soon, and made me feel just as secure as if she'd hugged me and put a lunch in my hand.
Hooray for southern women! And for immunocompetence.
This week I discovered that my new-I'm-a-semi-grownup-with-my-very-own health insurance covered the HPV vaccine. My catholic parents would not let me have the HPV vaccine because they don't really understand the research on it-- more than that, they don't really understand how vaccines work. They also don't understand that even if you only have sex with the one person you marry, you can still get a disease. They told me if I wanted it, it would cost about $400 dollars and I would have to pay for it myself.
Anyway, when I discovered that I could get the vaccine using my own health insurance, I decided to do the responsible thing. I made an appointment and showed up 20 minutes early. No one was there except the vaccination nurse. She was ordering breakfast sandwiches for the office and asked me if I wanted one. I said no, thanks. She prepared me for the shot, telling me it would hurt. After I told her I'd had the flu shot, she said "Oh, no, honey, people tell me this is way worse than that!" and gleefully stuck the syringe into my arm.
HOLY BALLS it hurt! I'm strange because I've always, since I was a toddler, morbidly enjoyed getting shots. This was pretty unpleasant, though. After the injection, there was this burning sensation in my muscle for about two minutes, and for the next few hours, aching. But I love older southern women. In Chicago, some disillusioned and vitamin D deficient nurse would have dispassionately sent me on my neurotic way, leaving me to worry about insurance payments, side effects, and deltoid muscle atrophy. This woman gave me a little pat, told me I'd feel better soon, and made me feel just as secure as if she'd hugged me and put a lunch in my hand.
Hooray for southern women! And for immunocompetence.
December 9, 2008
Simpler times
Today I judged an elementary school science fair and it reminded me of simpler times, when science seemed untouchably large, complicated, and god-like. Actually, it still seems that way most of the time, but now it's "supposedly" within reach. That's what they want us to think.
DID YOU KNOW?
You'll have less unpopped kernels if you freeze your popcorn before popping it.
2 days in white vinegar dissolves the eggshell off an egg and cooks it translucently.
Heavier paper makes farther-flying paper airplanes.
Regular ziplock bags prevent freezer burn better than freezer bags.
I miss working with kids soooooooo much.
DID YOU KNOW?
You'll have less unpopped kernels if you freeze your popcorn before popping it.
2 days in white vinegar dissolves the eggshell off an egg and cooks it translucently.
Heavier paper makes farther-flying paper airplanes.
Regular ziplock bags prevent freezer burn better than freezer bags.
I miss working with kids soooooooo much.
December 8, 2008
Things I should never do ever
- Stay up past midnight unless I'm hanging out with people. Not only is there NO POINT, but nothing good ever comes from it. I can't think of one instance.
- Eat pizza in North Carolina. In theory because I'm allergic to wheat, but honestly because it sucks.
- Plan to be somewhere before 7:30 a.m. Even if it does miraculously happen, it's not going to be pleasant for anyone involved. SORRY KIDS.
- Drink green tea; it makes me throw up. Why? Because I am a health anomaly.
- Wear those cheap 2 dollar obnoxious earrings you can buy in teen retail stores. They're the reason I pierced my ears and I'm allergic to them. They make my ears swell up but sometimes I risk it it, anyway, because, listen: Giant, bright yellow, plastic hoop earrings are worth any cell damage they might incur.
- Purchase butter. I don't eat butter. Why do I have butter in my refrigerator? What am I going to do with it? Does butter go bad?
- Pierce my nose. But I really really want to. Should I do it?
- Go to my high school reunion. Nothing good can come of that, and by that I mean, I could just go to a bar when I visit home and be alternately ignored/accosted by the exact same people for free.
- Send my dad a Barack Obama birthday card. It was hard to resist the temptation today, but I managed.
- Let people know that I refer to myself as two entities: Good elyse and Bad elyse. Oops, I just told you. That was Bad elyse's idea.
- Write in this blog. Bad elyse makes me. I need to go do something productive now.
December 7, 2008
Dear Chicago,
I miss your pizza. I miss the vagina building. I miss the Lake. I miss ethnic food. I miss Polish surnames. I miss the availability of hard liquor. I miss being anonymous. I miss the vibrations of the El. I miss your ubiquitous coffee shops. I miss shopping and not buying anything. I miss Belmont and Andersonville.
In 14 days I will be running my hand on obsidian buildings and shivering against the wind and smelling filthy city air and bouncing around on trains in my triple layered wool sweaters and ducking into shops for hot five dollar coffees to warm the tip of my nose while I walk.
Love, love, love, love, love...
elyse
In 14 days I will be running my hand on obsidian buildings and shivering against the wind and smelling filthy city air and bouncing around on trains in my triple layered wool sweaters and ducking into shops for hot five dollar coffees to warm the tip of my nose while I walk.
Love, love, love, love, love...
elyse
December 5, 2008
On Main St. in Carrboro, there is an apparently vacant shop with a printed out paper sign in the window that says "SMOKE SHOP" in some fancy Photoshop word art. I stand beside this suspicious place while I wait for the bus after getting groceries a few times a week.
Today, there was a new sign in the front window, and a small, Charlie Brown-style tree decorated with approximately four tiny lights at the very top. The sign said,
Today, there was a new sign in the front window, and a small, Charlie Brown-style tree decorated with approximately four tiny lights at the very top. The sign said,
MAYORS AWARD
FOR BEST CHRSITMAS [sic] DECORATIONS BY A CARRBORO BUSINESS
IS PRESENTED TO
THE SMOKE SHOP
BERT (recipient)
BEST IN TREES (category)
(signed by "the mayor")
FOR BEST CHRSITMAS [sic] DECORATIONS BY A CARRBORO BUSINESS
IS PRESENTED TO
THE SMOKE SHOP
BERT (recipient)
BEST IN TREES (category)
(signed by "the mayor")
Carrboro is the best town in the United States, and this is proof. I love living here.
It's weird to be in graduate school and live in such a way that you could, should you undergo a personal revolution/drugged up weekend (or anything in between), end in one fell swoop. It's weird that moving here, existing here, and continuing to live here is completely my decision, within my power.
My family really does not get it. They would be happy if I quit school, moved home, and got a job as a teacher. I'm positive that my parents pressured me to get into science so I would settle down and not become the next Mountain Girl. (MG was/is my heroine. Have you read the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test? That girl rocks.) Even in middle school I was talking about fun stuff like running away with bands, getting tattoos, being a bartender, traveling the US to write novels, piercing things, and dying my hair purple. I was also writing protest poetry about the Man. They probably thought, "Here's something productive and rational that our wild child can direct her energy towards. Let's kill off sex, drugs, rock'n'roll, and wanderlust before they even occur to her." I'm sure they thought they could thwart my reckless future by making me love science. I'm sure they thought by majoring in biology, I'd meet some nice doctor and marry him. I'm sure, failing those things, they at least thought that my career in science would keep me untattooed, well-groomed, and close to home. Ha! Joke's on them!
Well, the point of me saying all this is that I am totally in control of my whole life, and I love it. I have never been happier and more scared of screwing up.
I have all this creative energy and I haven't figured out how to use it in science yet, but I will. I will. It's going to be revolutionary.... Viva la neuREVOLUTION! Or maybe, viva me eking out a PhD without losing focus and having to spend the rest of my life writing self-help novels or assembly instructions.
My family really does not get it. They would be happy if I quit school, moved home, and got a job as a teacher. I'm positive that my parents pressured me to get into science so I would settle down and not become the next Mountain Girl. (MG was/is my heroine. Have you read the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test? That girl rocks.) Even in middle school I was talking about fun stuff like running away with bands, getting tattoos, being a bartender, traveling the US to write novels, piercing things, and dying my hair purple. I was also writing protest poetry about the Man. They probably thought, "Here's something productive and rational that our wild child can direct her energy towards. Let's kill off sex, drugs, rock'n'roll, and wanderlust before they even occur to her." I'm sure they thought they could thwart my reckless future by making me love science. I'm sure they thought by majoring in biology, I'd meet some nice doctor and marry him. I'm sure, failing those things, they at least thought that my career in science would keep me untattooed, well-groomed, and close to home. Ha! Joke's on them!
Well, the point of me saying all this is that I am totally in control of my whole life, and I love it. I have never been happier and more scared of screwing up.
I have all this creative energy and I haven't figured out how to use it in science yet, but I will. I will. It's going to be revolutionary.... Viva la neuREVOLUTION! Or maybe, viva me eking out a PhD without losing focus and having to spend the rest of my life writing self-help novels or assembly instructions.
December 3, 2008
why i love my ipod and sunglasses
Sometimes my life is outrageous and ridiculous. For reasons I don't quite understand, I am a bona fide creep magnet. Do I look stupid and gullible? Do I look like I am on the road to total self destruction? Do I look like I want to marry someone that lives behind Dunkin Donuts?
I'm not going to go into all the details, but I have been asked out by homeless men on the bus, homeless men on the street, and senile widowers while I'm trying to study in a coffee shop. In Chicago, men used to stop me in the street (DAILY) and tell me we'd have beautiful babies together. Once someone followed me home from the bus, trying to convince me to invite him up for a drink. I had to call the police to get him to stop following me.
What the hell? I am pretty sure I don't possess captivating beauty or radiate with charm. I am a nerdy, quirky girl with a boyish figure and anxiety problems. The only reason I can guess as to why so many strange men harass me is that god(s) wants to laugh at my discomfort. So if you ever catch me looking super unfriendly, with headphones in my ears and sunglasses on a cloudy day, it's because I don't want Joe Sex Offender to ask me out on a date again. If you're a cute single man, by all means, harass me, please harass me.
I'm not going to go into all the details, but I have been asked out by homeless men on the bus, homeless men on the street, and senile widowers while I'm trying to study in a coffee shop. In Chicago, men used to stop me in the street (DAILY) and tell me we'd have beautiful babies together. Once someone followed me home from the bus, trying to convince me to invite him up for a drink. I had to call the police to get him to stop following me.
What the hell? I am pretty sure I don't possess captivating beauty or radiate with charm. I am a nerdy, quirky girl with a boyish figure and anxiety problems. The only reason I can guess as to why so many strange men harass me is that god(s) wants to laugh at my discomfort. So if you ever catch me looking super unfriendly, with headphones in my ears and sunglasses on a cloudy day, it's because I don't want Joe Sex Offender to ask me out on a date again. If you're a cute single man, by all means, harass me, please harass me.
December 2, 2008
Lucky Numbers: 2, 13, 36, 11, 18, 17
Thank heaven I bought those 196 packets of instant organic zen oatmeal, because right now it's the only food I have in my apartment! I am a poor, poor, poor, poor, poor grad student, but it's totally cool because I fucking love oatmeal.
Yesterday I got a fortune cookie that says "If you're happy, you're successful," but what about all the stipulations? Like, what if you're happy but really cranky? Then maybe you're a successful power-bitch. That wouldn't be so bad. After all, bitches get things done, right? Unfortunately I've never used that power for anything beyond stealing someone's boyfriend, which I no longer feel so happy about...
Anyway, past bitcheries aside, success is a loaded word, Fortune Cookie. That is why I am taking this time out of what I intended to be a productive morning to lecture you all ("y'all") about the caveats of asserting nebulous truisms and not qualifying them. That's just bad writing, and I demand a lot more from my fortune cookies. I'd like to see The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock next time, in fact. Get working on it.
LEARN CHINESE- Be invited = (zuo) (ke)
Yesterday I got a fortune cookie that says "If you're happy, you're successful," but what about all the stipulations? Like, what if you're happy but really cranky? Then maybe you're a successful power-bitch. That wouldn't be so bad. After all, bitches get things done, right? Unfortunately I've never used that power for anything beyond stealing someone's boyfriend, which I no longer feel so happy about...
Anyway, past bitcheries aside, success is a loaded word, Fortune Cookie. That is why I am taking this time out of what I intended to be a productive morning to lecture you all ("y'all") about the caveats of asserting nebulous truisms and not qualifying them. That's just bad writing, and I demand a lot more from my fortune cookies. I'd like to see The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock next time, in fact. Get working on it.
LEARN CHINESE- Be invited = (zuo) (ke)
December 1, 2008
AND
Now I am going to spend the rest of the semester working my ASS off. But don't worry, I'm sure I'll have plenty of crazy things to write here as I go through delirious recreational withdrawal. You can live vicariously through my inanity.
FANGIRLING
Last night I saw Fastball play in Carrboro and it was pretty awesome. I used to see tons of live music, and then I went to college, got poor, decided to take that time to listen to only music from the 60s and 70s. This is mostly because half of the jackass elitists at my college were so bossy and competitive about their indie music that I was totally turned off by anything modern, no matter how good it was. Now I have this deep deep appreciation for good music that stems from the Beatles riffs ingrained into my deepest brain regions, so you can believe me when I say that it was an excellent show.
The concert was awesome, but having been a fan for 11 years, I have NEEDS that were not completely satisfied. Like having Tony on bass and keyboards. So I made a fantasy Fastball concert lineup. It's like fantasy baseball! But a billion times less boring! (And that's the last time you'll ever hear me pun Fastball with baseball because I am a better punner than that, baby.) (Note that this doesn't include the new music because I don't have that on my iTunes yet.)
** Jug bands are awesome.
*** Let's be honest; I have no self control when it comes to musicians.
I love you, Fastball!
The concert was awesome, but having been a fan for 11 years, I have NEEDS that were not completely satisfied. Like having Tony on bass and keyboards. So I made a fantasy Fastball concert lineup. It's like fantasy baseball! But a billion times less boring! (And that's the last time you'll ever hear me pun Fastball with baseball because I am a better punner than that, baby.) (Note that this doesn't include the new music because I don't have that on my iTunes yet.)
- Morning Star
- Airstream
- Out Of My Head (Keyboards necessary*)
- Emily
- Drifting Away
- Freeloader Freddy (underrated; I like the revolting Miles-coughing at the beginning)
- I Get High (Tony's falsetto is the best, *)
- Whatever Gets You On (I fucking love this song and I don't think I'll ever hear it live)
- You're an Ocean (*)
- Damaged Goods
- Love is Expensive and Free
- ("encore")
- Mercenary Girl
- Warm Fuzzy Feeling
- Red Light
** Jug bands are awesome.
*** Let's be honest; I have no self control when it comes to musicians.
I love you, Fastball!
November 26, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving!
I'm thankful that I'm warm and well fed and have a good job and family. I'm also thankful that I can afford to see my family and friends in Illinois this weekend. And I'm thankful for a holiday entirely dedicated to the one thing I am really good at: EXCESSIVE FEASTING.
Have a slice of pie for me, with extra whipped cream. Hell, just have the whipped cream.
Have a slice of pie for me, with extra whipped cream. Hell, just have the whipped cream.
November 24, 2008
living in the future
Let us never speak about my public speaking skills again.
Here are things I'm looking forward to, in chronological order:
** Except in North Carolina, the Bermuda triangle of make-out prospects
Here are things I'm looking forward to, in chronological order:
- Drinking beer after study group tomorrow. Study groups should not exist without being coupled to beer drinking.
- Going to CHICAGO. And drinking beer there.
- [Possibly] Making out *
- Thanksgiving with Shelby! And my family.
- SHOPPING. And drinking hard liquor. With Shelby!
- [Possibly] Making out *
- Seeing my grandparents for the first time in sooooo long. I am a terrible grandchild.
- Seeing Fastball at Cat's Cradle!
- [Unlikely] Making out **
** Except in North Carolina, the Bermuda triangle of make-out prospects
November 23, 2008
Neuro, I can be your boyfriend
Hi, I'm elyse. I listen to Jens Lekman for hours instead of practicing presentations about songbird behavioral plasticity. I dance to the Rolling Stones in my underwear every time I get through a page of a paper about depolarizations in macular tissue. Whatever! I'll just go be a roadie if they kick me out of grad school! That's just as good as having a PhD. My family will be so proud.
Oh, God! What have I done! I came to grad school to have some fun!
The clock on the wall says 4, 5, 6 !
My heart's just not in the scientifics!
Oh, God! What have I done! I came to grad school to have some fun!
The clock on the wall says 4, 5, 6 !
My heart's just not in the scientifics!
Public speaking
Last time I had to give a presentation, it was only five minutes and I spent a neurotic four days practicing and still went dry-mouthed as I stood in front of 20 people with a powerpoint. LAME.
This time I'm taking the maverick approach. I've got a half finished powerpoint and I'm walking around my apartment talking to myself about birdsong. That's the same as "preparing," right? I DO WHAT I WANT.
I've got one of those brain tumor headaches today. It's only on one side of my head, which is new and strange feeling. Owww.
Days that I've been saying I need to go to the doctor: 123
Days that I convince myself that doctors won't help: 123
All right then. Let's not mess up a good thing.
This time I'm taking the maverick approach. I've got a half finished powerpoint and I'm walking around my apartment talking to myself about birdsong. That's the same as "preparing," right? I DO WHAT I WANT.
I've got one of those brain tumor headaches today. It's only on one side of my head, which is new and strange feeling. Owww.
Days that I've been saying I need to go to the doctor: 123
Days that I convince myself that doctors won't help: 123
All right then. Let's not mess up a good thing.
November 22, 2008
Preface: I am not crazy
I had an interesting paranoid delusion the other day. Don't call the psych ward yet-- I'm no psychiatrist but I'm pretty sure if you can identify something as a paranoid delusion, it's not really a delusion.
Once or twice a week I take the bus to Carrboro to buy groceries, and this gets pretty monotonous. I get a little queasy if I read because it's so bumpy, so typically I use this time for listening to music/assessing my life. I was thinking about how I moved across the goddamn country to change my life, and not enough is changing. I'm happy, but why? Nothing has changed but my location. I moved 1000 miles closer to a certain friend of mine, and I still never see him. I live in this beautiful beautiful place but don't have time to enjoy it. So I was telling myself, change things or go back to Chicago, Elyse, because you didn't come here to dick around, make basically no money, and be 1000 miles from anyone who gives a crap about you.
That's when I started noticing lots of weird little things that you'd only notice if you took the same busride at the same time of day on the same days of the week. There's a boy with a mohawk I admire who always wears the same red plaid jacket. There's the bike (the one identical to my own) that I always notice locked up outside of a restaurant in the same position, with its wheel removed. I started thinking that, if this were A Beautiful Mind or something, all of these little things would be repetitions because my mind can only generate so much material to put in a 'fantasy world.' I like seeing people in mohawks-- there's mohawk boy. It explains how my life can be so superficially different when everything is deeply rooted in the same old bullshit.
And then, to top of all this paranoia, "Carolina in My Mind" came up on shuffle. WTF, life? Why do you fuck with me so much?
So, let me wrap this up by reiterating that I'm not crazy. I don't seriously believe that my entire world was generated as an escapism from my "real life" as an in-patient in a mental ward, and I don't really believe that ALL people in Disney character costumes are out to get me... oh wait, were you not aware of that one? It's called masklophobia and IT IS A REAL CONCERN FOR MANY PEOPLE. Anyway, the point is, I gotta take some action against this inaction.
Once or twice a week I take the bus to Carrboro to buy groceries, and this gets pretty monotonous. I get a little queasy if I read because it's so bumpy, so typically I use this time for listening to music/assessing my life. I was thinking about how I moved across the goddamn country to change my life, and not enough is changing. I'm happy, but why? Nothing has changed but my location. I moved 1000 miles closer to a certain friend of mine, and I still never see him. I live in this beautiful beautiful place but don't have time to enjoy it. So I was telling myself, change things or go back to Chicago, Elyse, because you didn't come here to dick around, make basically no money, and be 1000 miles from anyone who gives a crap about you.
That's when I started noticing lots of weird little things that you'd only notice if you took the same busride at the same time of day on the same days of the week. There's a boy with a mohawk I admire who always wears the same red plaid jacket. There's the bike (the one identical to my own) that I always notice locked up outside of a restaurant in the same position, with its wheel removed. I started thinking that, if this were A Beautiful Mind or something, all of these little things would be repetitions because my mind can only generate so much material to put in a 'fantasy world.' I like seeing people in mohawks-- there's mohawk boy. It explains how my life can be so superficially different when everything is deeply rooted in the same old bullshit.
And then, to top of all this paranoia, "Carolina in My Mind" came up on shuffle. WTF, life? Why do you fuck with me so much?
So, let me wrap this up by reiterating that I'm not crazy. I don't seriously believe that my entire world was generated as an escapism from my "real life" as an in-patient in a mental ward, and I don't really believe that ALL people in Disney character costumes are out to get me... oh wait, were you not aware of that one? It's called masklophobia and IT IS A REAL CONCERN FOR MANY PEOPLE. Anyway, the point is, I gotta take some action against this inaction.
November 18, 2008
Things that annoy me today
- When I am riding the bus home with my arms full of heavy, heavy groceries, because I can't afford a car, and there are 20 empty seats on the bus, and some guy insists on me moving my bag so he can sit next to me and not cooperate by leaning over a little when I need to get off at my stop. I am a skinny lady and my groceries crushed my legs, oww, you bastard!
- The pregnant "man." Go away, pregnant "man." You have a uterus and ovaries. It is not a miracle you're pregnant.
- Chief Illiniwek, and all the sheep from the Illinois suburbs at U of I who can't see anything offensive about him. Especially the girl I know who says people are making too big a deal about offending Native Americans because "they are extinct."
- Me, for not sleeping enough. Won't I ever learn??
November 16, 2008
Patch clamp <3
Songs I dedicate to my method-crush, Patch clamp:
(heartbreak.)
- Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Queen
- Why Don't You and I - Santana feat. Alex Band
- Going Out of my Head - the Zombies
- A Case of You - Joni Mitchell
(heartbreak.)
November 14, 2008
FYI
I have been happy here in spite of the lack of making out. For the last three months, it's like some huge weight has been lifted off of my chest. I am no longer depressed and unable to function, like I was in Chicago. I wake up in the morning and I actually feel like getting out of bed and doing things.
I don't know if it's the extra sunlight (Chicagoans do have vitamin D deficiencies), or the academic environment, or my homeopathic antidepressants, or the massive, massive amounts of B vitamins I take to keep my fibromyalgia from acting up... but it's probably a combination of those things.
HOW LONG CAN THIS UNFOUNDED HAPPINESS LAST? It's so much better than unfounded sadness. Now I know what everybody was saying about life and how it's "worth living" and "too short" and "not a cesspool of violent emotional conflict."
On a side note, I have had massive cravings for pop-tarts every time I walk down the cereal aisle since I can remember. I don't let myself eat poptarts because if I started, I'd never be able to stop. So please remind me, when I have babies someday, to never let them have pop-tarts; I'm trying really hard not to damn my kids to a life of suffering via junk-food craving.
I don't know if it's the extra sunlight (Chicagoans do have vitamin D deficiencies), or the academic environment, or my homeopathic antidepressants, or the massive, massive amounts of B vitamins I take to keep my fibromyalgia from acting up... but it's probably a combination of those things.
HOW LONG CAN THIS UNFOUNDED HAPPINESS LAST? It's so much better than unfounded sadness. Now I know what everybody was saying about life and how it's "worth living" and "too short" and "not a cesspool of violent emotional conflict."
On a side note, I have had massive cravings for pop-tarts every time I walk down the cereal aisle since I can remember. I don't let myself eat poptarts because if I started, I'd never be able to stop. So please remind me, when I have babies someday, to never let them have pop-tarts; I'm trying really hard not to damn my kids to a life of suffering via junk-food craving.
November 13, 2008
Quickies:
- Why would anyone stalk Sandra Bullock?
- You might have called me 'toothpick' in high school, but I am going to live forever.
- Finally, a translation of ancient Greek literature that I am excited about.
November 10, 2008
did you know!?
... elk and moose are the same animal, with different names on each continent!?
... you can cook pasta like risotto and it tastes delicious?!
... I am getting a FREE FUTON THIS WEEK.
Today was my mom's birthday so I called her, as good children are expected to do. (Being the only child, I must be both the good and bad child; luckily, I forgot that there was no mail today and failed to send her card early enough to arrive on Saturday. That took care of the "bad child.") She was telling me about this "supper club" she and her friends are forming. It has a secret password and once a month, a couple in the club has all the other couples over for dinner. The name of the supper club is "The Secret Spice of Life."
PASSWORD?! SUBURBAN COUPLES!? SPICE!? I am tormented by my suspicions that this is one of those swinger clubs Oprah is always talking about. Now it's even more important that I don't join the world of swinging couples when I get the invitation.
Fear of my parents: perhaps the only moral pillar that hasn't fallen.
... you can cook pasta like risotto and it tastes delicious?!
... I am getting a FREE FUTON THIS WEEK.
Today was my mom's birthday so I called her, as good children are expected to do. (Being the only child, I must be both the good and bad child; luckily, I forgot that there was no mail today and failed to send her card early enough to arrive on Saturday. That took care of the "bad child.") She was telling me about this "supper club" she and her friends are forming. It has a secret password and once a month, a couple in the club has all the other couples over for dinner. The name of the supper club is "The Secret Spice of Life."
PASSWORD?! SUBURBAN COUPLES!? SPICE!? I am tormented by my suspicions that this is one of those swinger clubs Oprah is always talking about. Now it's even more important that I don't join the world of swinging couples when I get the invitation.
Fear of my parents: perhaps the only moral pillar that hasn't fallen.
November 9, 2008
APPLICATION SUBMITTED
... one of the most beautiful phrases an automated process has ever said to me. Poetry, really.
On with life. Science is stifling me. I need an outlet. Every week or so I try to adopt the habit most of my coworkers have, which is exercising your stresses away, but I end up stressing about what to do and how stupid I will look doing it. Yesterday I rode my bike around, but since my legs are only about twice as thick as a piece of dental floss... I do not think I will ever be able to bike in the piedmont region. Also, I got lost. Last week I tried running, which was fine, but I can't just run because I will get bored with it eventually. How is it that so many people here use physical activity as an outlet? I feel left out and neurotic. Maybe I will just do what I do best, and that is crappily strum my guitar and/or dance around to the Rolling Stones in my yoga pants.
It has apparently been snowing in the midwest, which makes me extra happy to be living in NC. Sometimes I walk around in the 65-70 degrees November weather and feel like I am living in a tropical area, which is not an accurate descriptor of Chapel Hill as much as a sad, sad reflection of how miserable the midwest is in the winter.
After the UTTER HAPPINESS I felt after Obama's election, I guess I was a little overwhelmed by my workload, because I spent all of Wednesday morning trying not to faint. Mayyyyybe I should buy a multivitamin.
On with life. Science is stifling me. I need an outlet. Every week or so I try to adopt the habit most of my coworkers have, which is exercising your stresses away, but I end up stressing about what to do and how stupid I will look doing it. Yesterday I rode my bike around, but since my legs are only about twice as thick as a piece of dental floss... I do not think I will ever be able to bike in the piedmont region. Also, I got lost. Last week I tried running, which was fine, but I can't just run because I will get bored with it eventually. How is it that so many people here use physical activity as an outlet? I feel left out and neurotic. Maybe I will just do what I do best, and that is crappily strum my guitar and/or dance around to the Rolling Stones in my yoga pants.
It has apparently been snowing in the midwest, which makes me extra happy to be living in NC. Sometimes I walk around in the 65-70 degrees November weather and feel like I am living in a tropical area, which is not an accurate descriptor of Chapel Hill as much as a sad, sad reflection of how miserable the midwest is in the winter.
After the UTTER HAPPINESS I felt after Obama's election, I guess I was a little overwhelmed by my workload, because I spent all of Wednesday morning trying not to faint. Mayyyyybe I should buy a multivitamin.
November 6, 2008
Quick update--
I've been so stressed it's literally making me sick: nausea, migraine, fainting spells. I'm also going through withdrawal from not enough makin' out-- three weeks is a long time. This sort of inhumane suffering robs me of my ability to entertain you with witty malapropisms and outrageously unfounded claims.
November 3, 2008
Moderate-wing conspiracy
For the record, I have this sneaking feeling that McCain is in cahoots (yes, I said cahoots) with Obama for him to win the presidency and take power away from the 'publicans. I think that moderates McCain and Obama had a couple of beers together a few years ago and decided to rig the game, the way my cousin and I used to play "collaborative Monopoly" against our dolls to take control of the bank. But I don't think that ObaMcCain want to take control of the bank (who'd want to in this economy, anyway?), I think they just wanted to make sure a moderate-friendly government took over post-Bush.
Why do I think this? Because I honestly can't believe that McCain picked Palin thinking it would help him win the election. If he wanted to win, all he had to do was pick some solid, uncontroversial VP , and his ticket would suddenly look like a rock-solid campaign of experience compared to the perception of Obama's naivety. I cannot believe that McCain honestly thought Palin was a winning choice for vice president, and he must have MUST HAVE picked her as a way to handicap his campaign and cede the vote to Obama.
This is my conspiracy theory AKA security blanket. It makes me feel good to pretend, if only for a moment, that America isn't really a place where someone, ANYONE, considers Sarah Palin a legitimate candidate to be a world leader.
Why do I think this? Because I honestly can't believe that McCain picked Palin thinking it would help him win the election. If he wanted to win, all he had to do was pick some solid, uncontroversial VP , and his ticket would suddenly look like a rock-solid campaign of experience compared to the perception of Obama's naivety. I cannot believe that McCain honestly thought Palin was a winning choice for vice president, and he must have MUST HAVE picked her as a way to handicap his campaign and cede the vote to Obama.
This is my conspiracy theory AKA security blanket. It makes me feel good to pretend, if only for a moment, that America isn't really a place where someone, ANYONE, considers Sarah Palin a legitimate candidate to be a world leader.
October 29, 2008
How to apply for NSF funding... and how not to
What you should do:
What Elyse does:
Why do I even bother? Because I need an extra $5k a year? When did money become so important? When did I stop having a life? How can I even expect success when I haven't tried very hard? Don't I have any work ethic? and most importantly... how did I become the Goofus against life's Gallantry?
- Designate enough time in the month before the application is due to put together a well-thought out proposal, personal statement, and resume.
- Submit drafts to your adviser and other trusted people for feedback.
- Edit, rewrite, edit, rewrite.
- Consider many examples of grant essays and apply what worked for them to your grant.
- Feel proud of yourself for submitting a coherent and substantial application.
What Elyse does:
- Think of an idea for a proposal exactly 12 days before the grant is due.
- Spend the better part of three afternoons writing, rewriting, and rewriting again.
- Submit to adviser just in time to get his feedback on a single draft, maybe two if I'm lucky.
- Submit application and pray that you just get lucky.
- Pray more. Then : epic fail.
Why do I even bother? Because I need an extra $5k a year? When did money become so important? When did I stop having a life? How can I even expect success when I haven't tried very hard? Don't I have any work ethic? and most importantly... how did I become the Goofus against life's Gallantry?
October 27, 2008
sorry, but I have to get political
... except really, I'm just defending science from "Palin" politics, AKA the Deliberately Uninformed Opinion Brigade.
Palin Opposes "Pet Project" Research on Autism
There are no words. Well, there are words, but I'm not going to say them here. You're smart enough to figure out what they are.
Palin Opposes "Pet Project" Research on Autism
There are no words. Well, there are words, but I'm not going to say them here. You're smart enough to figure out what they are.
October 26, 2008
Owww
I am in the middle of one of those headaches/migraines/hells that starts friday afternoon and hasn't stopped since then. I go to bed with a headache, I wake up with a headache, I spend all day with a headache... sure, it's not crippling the entire time, but it sucks to spend the entire day at home waiting for this horrible pounding pain to build up from the top of my head to my soft palate. Last night, around 10pm, it got so bad that I found myself lying on the couch with a blanket pulled over my face, clutching the sides of my head.
Here's where everyone tells me I should see a doctor for my headaches... but I'm too busy to see a doctor, because 4-5 days a month of migraines means 25-26 days of insane catching up. So INSTEAD I am going to bake banana nut muffins and hope for the best.
Here's where everyone tells me I should see a doctor for my headaches... but I'm too busy to see a doctor, because 4-5 days a month of migraines means 25-26 days of insane catching up. So INSTEAD I am going to bake banana nut muffins and hope for the best.
October 20, 2008
I guess North Cackalackys think it's getting cold here because everywhere I look, there are windbreakers, hats, sweaters, and Ugg boots. Not just Ugg boots, but Ugg boots with 5 inch heels. Hate to tell y'all, but it's still hitting 70 degrees in the afternoon, and if you were ever in a place with snow, those boots would cause you death or injury.
It was pretty damn cold in Chicago this weekend, so naturally, I contracted some sort of virus. My parents harangued me non-stop with their crazy Fox News politics. You can go home again, everybody, and when you do, you'll be as miserable as when you left.
That's a bit of an exaggeration. I went out to the local bars nearly every night and had a lot of fun. I remembered that I can make myself look pretty if I put a little effort into it. I also remembered what my hair used to look like before the humidity took over my styling duties. Hooray!
It was pretty damn cold in Chicago this weekend, so naturally, I contracted some sort of virus. My parents harangued me non-stop with their crazy Fox News politics. You can go home again, everybody, and when you do, you'll be as miserable as when you left.
That's a bit of an exaggeration. I went out to the local bars nearly every night and had a lot of fun. I remembered that I can make myself look pretty if I put a little effort into it. I also remembered what my hair used to look like before the humidity took over my styling duties. Hooray!
October 18, 2008
Adventures in Misarthropody
tuesday night, i visited the bathroom at one point, as one does, especially when one imbibes coffee all day long to stay conscious. when i entered the bathroom, i saw, reflected in the mirror behind me, an ominous dark mark on the ceiling. i whirled around, hoping that it was a manifestation of my paranoia. it was not.
IT WAS A TWO INCH LONG INSECT.
under not-too-close inspection, i realized that it was a cockroach with antennae that were twice as long as its body. that detail is so you can imagine this intruder in its full, horrible glory. i reeled back, trapped in the bathroom, then a burst of adrenaline inspired me to run underneath it and into the living room. i grabbed my can of extra-strength, ovary pruning, internal-organ-crystallizing RAID, which has this amazing little nozzle on it that allows you to point and shoot at a single spot instead of a large area. i aimed. i fired.
this &$%#&$*&#@ bug FLEW ACROSS THE ROOM. it hit the mirror and flew to the other end of the room. that's when the Raid must have started to take effect, because it hit the ground, flew into the wall two more times, and then tried to run under my shower curtain. here's where i have to admit that the entire time this was happening, an utterly inhuman scream was coming out of my mouth. it was the sound a monkey might make if you lit it on fire. i pulled back the shower curtain to find this thing sitting on the floor, watching me, watching me. i sprayed it again and ran out of the room.
when i came back it was crumpled on its back, dead dead dead. i put a kleenex over it and exhumed its body with my hand-vac. i am dreading the day that i am forced to empty that hand-vac. after that, i took my raid and sprayed every externally facing baseboard in my apartment-- these flying cockroaches/palmetto bugs apparently live in the trees around my apartment (the anoles and squirrels that i love so much eat them!) and probably don't have breeding populations inside. PLEASE DO NOT CORRECT ME IF THAT IS NOT TRUE. anyway, my point is that it probably got in when i had my windows open this weekend or when i was doing laundry/recycling that caused me to go in and out and in all day.
but guess what, people? now i can do anything. i feel empowered and nauseous, like a pregnant ayn rand. i feel the exhilaration that sarah palin must feel when she hunts elk/polar bears/pandas/people who have sex using condoms-- only i feel even MORE QUALIFIED than palin because i did all this WITHOUT wearing an entire tube of lipstick artfully smeared on my over-lined lips. WITHOUT A POWER SUIT, Hillary Clinton! i did it in my new Puma ballet flats, half naked, with chocolate chip oatmeal cookies in the oven.
IT WAS A TWO INCH LONG INSECT.
under not-too-close inspection, i realized that it was a cockroach with antennae that were twice as long as its body. that detail is so you can imagine this intruder in its full, horrible glory. i reeled back, trapped in the bathroom, then a burst of adrenaline inspired me to run underneath it and into the living room. i grabbed my can of extra-strength, ovary pruning, internal-organ-crystallizing RAID, which has this amazing little nozzle on it that allows you to point and shoot at a single spot instead of a large area. i aimed. i fired.
this &$%#&$*&#@ bug FLEW ACROSS THE ROOM. it hit the mirror and flew to the other end of the room. that's when the Raid must have started to take effect, because it hit the ground, flew into the wall two more times, and then tried to run under my shower curtain. here's where i have to admit that the entire time this was happening, an utterly inhuman scream was coming out of my mouth. it was the sound a monkey might make if you lit it on fire. i pulled back the shower curtain to find this thing sitting on the floor, watching me, watching me. i sprayed it again and ran out of the room.
when i came back it was crumpled on its back, dead dead dead. i put a kleenex over it and exhumed its body with my hand-vac. i am dreading the day that i am forced to empty that hand-vac. after that, i took my raid and sprayed every externally facing baseboard in my apartment-- these flying cockroaches/palmetto bugs apparently live in the trees around my apartment (the anoles and squirrels that i love so much eat them!) and probably don't have breeding populations inside. PLEASE DO NOT CORRECT ME IF THAT IS NOT TRUE. anyway, my point is that it probably got in when i had my windows open this weekend or when i was doing laundry/recycling that caused me to go in and out and in all day.
but guess what, people? now i can do anything. i feel empowered and nauseous, like a pregnant ayn rand. i feel the exhilaration that sarah palin must feel when she hunts elk/polar bears/pandas/people who have sex using condoms-- only i feel even MORE QUALIFIED than palin because i did all this WITHOUT wearing an entire tube of lipstick artfully smeared on my over-lined lips. WITHOUT A POWER SUIT, Hillary Clinton! i did it in my new Puma ballet flats, half naked, with chocolate chip oatmeal cookies in the oven.
October 14, 2008
Unsurprising fact:
I do not find Kenny Chesney attractive, nor do I enjoy his music. Quite the opposite.
October 12, 2008
Counting down...
There's nothing like two weeks of nonstop work to make you look forward to flying to a place that's 20 degrees colder and occupied by your pathologically republican parents.
Briefly: they amped up the reading in NBIO, I had to make two presentations, my brain underwent a conformational change that caused me to realize that making presentations is way easier than lots of other things (for example, operating on 6 hours of sleep every day-- more on this later), moar readingz!?, two weeks of lab totalling to 60 hours of pouring solutions, putting tiny pieces of tissue on slides, and scorching all my viable eggs from exposure to xylenes while i coverslipped and cleaned 130 slides. And just when I thought i would have a break, my neuroetho journal club asked me to present an article, which isn't a huge deal but I haven't done it before, and I naturally picked an article that was SUPER DENSE and only interesting to me and the profs in the club, so there was so much pressure and [insert neurotika here]. THEN our NBIO exam came to kick my ass all weekend. And it's still kicking my ass.
Here's an unfortunate cycle:
1. I have a lot of work to do so I need to get up early every morning and do it.
2. I am very stressed all day so when I get home I have all these borderline obsessive-compulsive things to do that ultimately keep me up wayyyyy later than is necessary.
3. Repeat.
I understand that there are many many many people who can operate successfully on 5-7 hours of sleep every night, but I am not one of them. I tried to do that in college and I was in so much physical pain and depression and exhaustion that I thought I had Lyme disease-- turns out I probably have fibromyalgia. I need my sleep. Maybe if I need it that much I should have gotten a 9-5 and not gone to grad school, but let's not talk about that now-- it's too late! Besides, I'm way too nerdy to be with normal people.
So: Four days until i'll be gallavanting around Chicagoland just like old times (hopefully the good part of the old times) and every day I'm waiting seems LONGER AND LONGER. Put me on the plane! Give me some non-crappy pizza! Until then... I will be working on this crazy exam until my eyes shrivel up like my poor, xylene-ridden ovaries.
Briefly: they amped up the reading in NBIO, I had to make two presentations, my brain underwent a conformational change that caused me to realize that making presentations is way easier than lots of other things (for example, operating on 6 hours of sleep every day-- more on this later), moar readingz!?, two weeks of lab totalling to 60 hours of pouring solutions, putting tiny pieces of tissue on slides, and scorching all my viable eggs from exposure to xylenes while i coverslipped and cleaned 130 slides. And just when I thought i would have a break, my neuroetho journal club asked me to present an article, which isn't a huge deal but I haven't done it before, and I naturally picked an article that was SUPER DENSE and only interesting to me and the profs in the club, so there was so much pressure and [insert neurotika here]. THEN our NBIO exam came to kick my ass all weekend. And it's still kicking my ass.
Here's an unfortunate cycle:
1. I have a lot of work to do so I need to get up early every morning and do it.
2. I am very stressed all day so when I get home I have all these borderline obsessive-compulsive things to do that ultimately keep me up wayyyyy later than is necessary.
3. Repeat.
I understand that there are many many many people who can operate successfully on 5-7 hours of sleep every night, but I am not one of them. I tried to do that in college and I was in so much physical pain and depression and exhaustion that I thought I had Lyme disease-- turns out I probably have fibromyalgia. I need my sleep. Maybe if I need it that much I should have gotten a 9-5 and not gone to grad school, but let's not talk about that now-- it's too late! Besides, I'm way too nerdy to be with normal people.
So: Four days until i'll be gallavanting around Chicagoland just like old times (hopefully the good part of the old times) and every day I'm waiting seems LONGER AND LONGER. Put me on the plane! Give me some non-crappy pizza! Until then... I will be working on this crazy exam until my eyes shrivel up like my poor, xylene-ridden ovaries.
October 7, 2008
October 4, 2008
Grad life
I haven't been doing anything but school, lab, school, and more lab, so that's what I have to write about this weekend. I am making this post because I should be preparing a presentation about neuroethology for my First Year Group (a professional skills workshop everyone has to take).
My neurobiology class has been pretty great. It is like a review of all the neuro I took at UChicago plus an hour and a half of more detail, which is exactly what I expected it to be. We also read papers and discuss them, which sort of burns everyone out, so there is a lot of delicious comisery to enjoy every morning.
My first year group is pretty annoying. This is something I should have expected because I have never enjoyed anything involving learning real-life, non-theoretical skills... and this is one of the first times that I actually MUST learn the skills because I will need them for the rest of my life. I'll adjust.
The problem I have right now is that we are all giving these 5 minute talks, then Q&A, then the class critiques us so we can improve. Everyone in my group gave their talks on their molecular biology research, and they were especially focused on the therapeudic benefits of whatever anyone talked about. Even the few behavioral neuro people in my group talked about their research on alcoholism and drug abuse, which has obvious clinical implications. My research is a little more abstract than that. I have this firm belief that any research that advances our knowledge of how a brain is working can be used as a stepping stone for further understanding, especially in light of the fact that every organism's brain is obviously incredibly different from a human brain, and we cannot perform experiments on living people. So I need to give a speech to convey that defense of my research.
But anyway, I love my research. It is so awesome. I spent almost 30 hours this week staining tissue for my project, and next week Kendra (the post doc) and I are going to put the tissue on slides and take pictures of it under the microscope for me to analyze on my computer. Kendra is trying to correlate song output with vasotocin expression. I have been preparing to write an NSF grant proposal and getting extremely interested in individual behavior patterns within a species, or, as I have learned to call it, "behavioral polymorphism." The individual's life history in regards to environmental conditions pattern it for a specific type of behavior as an adult, and this maximizes the fitness of the species in a variety of environmental conditions-- i.e. an abundant vs. poor summer. I'm really interested in that right now, so I assigned myself a lot of reading for the weekend.
Ughhh. It's time to clean my apartment, exercise, write my speech, fix my powerpoint, and read read read read read. I'll work on being more entertaining next time.
My neurobiology class has been pretty great. It is like a review of all the neuro I took at UChicago plus an hour and a half of more detail, which is exactly what I expected it to be. We also read papers and discuss them, which sort of burns everyone out, so there is a lot of delicious comisery to enjoy every morning.
My first year group is pretty annoying. This is something I should have expected because I have never enjoyed anything involving learning real-life, non-theoretical skills... and this is one of the first times that I actually MUST learn the skills because I will need them for the rest of my life. I'll adjust.
The problem I have right now is that we are all giving these 5 minute talks, then Q&A, then the class critiques us so we can improve. Everyone in my group gave their talks on their molecular biology research, and they were especially focused on the therapeudic benefits of whatever anyone talked about. Even the few behavioral neuro people in my group talked about their research on alcoholism and drug abuse, which has obvious clinical implications. My research is a little more abstract than that. I have this firm belief that any research that advances our knowledge of how a brain is working can be used as a stepping stone for further understanding, especially in light of the fact that every organism's brain is obviously incredibly different from a human brain, and we cannot perform experiments on living people. So I need to give a speech to convey that defense of my research.
But anyway, I love my research. It is so awesome. I spent almost 30 hours this week staining tissue for my project, and next week Kendra (the post doc) and I are going to put the tissue on slides and take pictures of it under the microscope for me to analyze on my computer. Kendra is trying to correlate song output with vasotocin expression. I have been preparing to write an NSF grant proposal and getting extremely interested in individual behavior patterns within a species, or, as I have learned to call it, "behavioral polymorphism." The individual's life history in regards to environmental conditions pattern it for a specific type of behavior as an adult, and this maximizes the fitness of the species in a variety of environmental conditions-- i.e. an abundant vs. poor summer. I'm really interested in that right now, so I assigned myself a lot of reading for the weekend.
Ughhh. It's time to clean my apartment, exercise, write my speech, fix my powerpoint, and read read read read read. I'll work on being more entertaining next time.
September 29, 2008
+ / -
+ My teen idol wrote on my Facebook wall this weekend. TWICE. To let me know his tour was heading to my town. Because he knows where I live and wants me to see their concert. 13 year old elyse is having a stroke from happiness. 23 year old elyse is also pretty thrilled.
- I am exhausted and have to give two presentations this week.
+ I have food in my apartment and don't have to go grocery shopping!!!
+ Food includes: wine and beer.
- A crazy mood has descended upon me and I have been toying with various insane ideas about what to do with my hair, which i hate right now.
- I still have not made up my mind about which of my tattoo ideas I will still like in 50 years.
+ The weather in Chicago sucks and I don't live there.
- Migraine
+ Jeff Tweedy's migraines turned into beautiful music sounds. Maybe I can turn mine into something worthwhile.
- Migraines still suck, so they get two mentions.
- NO TIME TO EXERCISE
+ No time to eat!
+ Visiting Chicago in 2 weeks! (+ pizza, sushi, friends)
This weekend I watched my mother try to open a laptop that was clicked shut. It was like watching a monkey try to pry open a clam. She literally picked it up and hit it on the table. I am laughing now just thinking about it. Technology + older generations = guaranteed entertainment.
- I am exhausted and have to give two presentations this week.
+ I have food in my apartment and don't have to go grocery shopping!!!
+ Food includes: wine and beer.
- A crazy mood has descended upon me and I have been toying with various insane ideas about what to do with my hair, which i hate right now.
- I still have not made up my mind about which of my tattoo ideas I will still like in 50 years.
+ The weather in Chicago sucks and I don't live there.
- Migraine
+ Jeff Tweedy's migraines turned into beautiful music sounds. Maybe I can turn mine into something worthwhile.
- Migraines still suck, so they get two mentions.
- NO TIME TO EXERCISE
+ No time to eat!
+ Visiting Chicago in 2 weeks! (+ pizza, sushi, friends)
This weekend I watched my mother try to open a laptop that was clicked shut. It was like watching a monkey try to pry open a clam. She literally picked it up and hit it on the table. I am laughing now just thinking about it. Technology + older generations = guaranteed entertainment.
My pantry is full, unlike my soul
When my parents arrived on Thursday night the first thing they did was head to the fridge to see if there was a snack there-- even though I specifically asked them if there was anything they would like me to get (they said no) because there would otherwise be nothing there. There were three yogurts, oatmeal, and soy creamer. My dad said, "Don't you have chips or something to make a sandwich?" I said, "I told you all week that I have NO FOOD here." He said, "I didn't realize that included no sandwich food."
WTF Dad?
Anyway, I can't complain because they took me to the store and now my fridge and pantry are full full full and I don't have to go to the grocery store for weeks and weeks, hooray!
WTF Dad?
Anyway, I can't complain because they took me to the store and now my fridge and pantry are full full full and I don't have to go to the grocery store for weeks and weeks, hooray!
September 21, 2008
Natatory Notice
It's almost my birthday, and if you read my blog (I have a hunch that you do...), I want you to know that I would love to spend it downing vodka tonics and jagerbombs with you. Unfortunately, depending on who you are, various circumstances prevent me from doing so: for one thing, I'm in North Carolina. For another, my parents are going to be here all weekend, and while they SAID it would be OK to ditch them to go out with friends one night, I doubt that they mean "we will be your designated driver so you can go to a bar, get trashed, and stumble home with some strange man to make out with until the wee hours" which is what I planned on doing.
SIGH. But it's okay, I'm glad they are visiting, I miss my family, blah blah blah. They are going to be horrified that I have no food in my apartment. Here is an account of the contents of my fridge and pantry:
But I digress. My point is that, when it's not my birthday anymore, will you still go out with me and drink hard liquor? If you're from Chicago, I miss you. If you're from NC, I see you, so I don't miss you, but I do miss hard liquor.
OK time to make coffee.
SIGH. But it's okay, I'm glad they are visiting, I miss my family, blah blah blah. They are going to be horrified that I have no food in my apartment. Here is an account of the contents of my fridge and pantry:
- 1 cup of flour (freezer)
- Half a bag of frozen spinach and a bag of frozen stir fry vegetables
- 1 yogurt (after I eat the second yogurt in about five minutes)
- 1 egg
- 1 eggplant and 3 red potatoes
- Mustard, minced garlic, and basalmic vinegar
- 1 apple and 1 lemon
- Dried lentils
- Canned tomatoes
- Instant organic awesome zen oatmeal
- Tea, tea, tea, and coffee, coffee, coffee
- Wild mushroom risotto
- Rice vermicelli noodles
But I digress. My point is that, when it's not my birthday anymore, will you still go out with me and drink hard liquor? If you're from Chicago, I miss you. If you're from NC, I see you, so I don't miss you, but I do miss hard liquor.
OK time to make coffee.
September 15, 2008
I have no life
... by which I mean no car with which to go anywhere on the weekends. I am going to take full advantage of this by applying for an NSF grant. Hooray! It's like applying to grad school, but 20 times more competitive!
September 14, 2008
Myspace
... I should really not be on Myspace.
1. I don't use it correctly. All I do is write weird things about myself and friend musicians that I stalked when I was younger and pray that they will one day look at my profile and think "Wow, that little freak turned out to be a good looking freak." I only have 24 friends and I never write comments or receive comments-- If someone left me a comment I wouldn't really know what to do with it. Reply? Or think they are a loser for using Myspace? Reply to tell them they are a loser for using Myspace?
2. [edit for content, 2/09]
3. What is this list about again? Oh yeah. Myspace. I get a lot of creepy creepy messages from people about my profile, basically either asking me to have sex with them, have cyber sex with them, or give them attention so they can think, although they live hundreds of miles away, that I want to have sex with them in their apartment full of empty beer cans and dead roaches. The saddest is when the guy looks at my profile (which is almost entirely a joke) and picks out one of the insane things I wrote about myself and uses it to make a case about why we are soulmates. Um, OK, Internet Man, I have decided that if my soulmate is on Myspace looking for me, I'd rather die alone.
But the reason I'm writing this is because I have received the weirdest and most disturbing message ever. It is from a 42 year old married female with children and a husband in her profile picture. The message says:
WHAT!?
1. I don't use it correctly. All I do is write weird things about myself and friend musicians that I stalked when I was younger and pray that they will one day look at my profile and think "Wow, that little freak turned out to be a good looking freak." I only have 24 friends and I never write comments or receive comments-- If someone left me a comment I wouldn't really know what to do with it. Reply? Or think they are a loser for using Myspace? Reply to tell them they are a loser for using Myspace?
2. [edit for content, 2/09]
3. What is this list about again? Oh yeah. Myspace. I get a lot of creepy creepy messages from people about my profile, basically either asking me to have sex with them, have cyber sex with them, or give them attention so they can think, although they live hundreds of miles away, that I want to have sex with them in their apartment full of empty beer cans and dead roaches. The saddest is when the guy looks at my profile (which is almost entirely a joke) and picks out one of the insane things I wrote about myself and uses it to make a case about why we are soulmates. Um, OK, Internet Man, I have decided that if my soulmate is on Myspace looking for me, I'd rather die alone.
But the reason I'm writing this is because I have received the weirdest and most disturbing message ever. It is from a 42 year old married female with children and a husband in her profile picture. The message says:
You are very interesting. Would you be interested in a couple where anything is possible and where good conversation is a must. Not saying anything will happen, but just seeing if we connect. Talking and meeting over dinner or a drink.
Angie & Andy
WHAT!?
Long sleeves
Last week, one afternoon, it rained. It was about 70 degrees so I put on my long sleeved shirt. Now I can't stop thinking about my fall weather clothes.
I miss you, sleeves. It's nearly September-- we should be reunited already, but instead you sit in my drawers while I run around campus in a tank top sweating like crazy.
Sleeves are like a portable, instant comfort zone for my paranoia about having flabby arms. I also like not having to look at my arm hair. I can do all the push-ups and yoga I want, but it's never going to replace that peace of mind I get when no one can tell if my arms are toned.
Cold weather sucks, but I fucking love my hoodies.
I miss you, sleeves. It's nearly September-- we should be reunited already, but instead you sit in my drawers while I run around campus in a tank top sweating like crazy.
Sleeves are like a portable, instant comfort zone for my paranoia about having flabby arms. I also like not having to look at my arm hair. I can do all the push-ups and yoga I want, but it's never going to replace that peace of mind I get when no one can tell if my arms are toned.
Cold weather sucks, but I fucking love my hoodies.
September 12, 2008
???
Hey Contradictory South:
Why is it that hard liquor is sequestered away to inconveniently placed liquor stores, and you prevent me from buying it on Sundays and holidays...
... but a 12-pack of beer is still called a "Family Pack" in grocery store ads? FAMILY PACK? Are you kidding me? Twelve beers would be a hard stretch in my family.
Why is it that hard liquor is sequestered away to inconveniently placed liquor stores, and you prevent me from buying it on Sundays and holidays...
... but a 12-pack of beer is still called a "Family Pack" in grocery store ads? FAMILY PACK? Are you kidding me? Twelve beers would be a hard stretch in my family.
September 7, 2008
random thought
Why isn't there a beer delivery service around here? I need beer and I need it to come to ME. Maybe the beer delivery man would even open the beer for me and hand it to me so I won't have to get off the couch.
MM BEER, THE GLUE OF SOCIETY.
MM BEER, THE GLUE OF SOCIETY.
things i am going to do in 5.5 weeks when i am in chicago
(this list is not comprehensive)
so what do you think of me dying my hair black??? is that too emo? maybe i don't care if you think i'm emo, and that's how emo i am. or maybe it's tearing me up inside, and that's why i'm so emo. emo emo emo. i am too old for this shit.
- eat asian food (i don't care which kind) that doesn't SUCK
- hang out with JAMIE, et al
- go downtown and hug a big building
- eat pizza that doesn't SUCK
- drive a car to get somewhere when i want to, without having to build in an hour-wide transportation time window.
- homework... because i do homework every weekend
- eat waffles, and i don't mean at a goddamn Waffle House
- wear long sleeves (!!!)
- not be scared of giant hornets when i go outside
- get my hair cut and maybe dye it black or dark dark dark dark brown.
so what do you think of me dying my hair black??? is that too emo? maybe i don't care if you think i'm emo, and that's how emo i am. or maybe it's tearing me up inside, and that's why i'm so emo. emo emo emo. i am too old for this shit.
September 6, 2008
YOU KNOW YOU ARE LAME WHEN:
Okay, i realize i've been freaking out over nothing lately. I am going through one of those "major life changes" and everything feels like a big deal. Today i did a minor re-organization and major cleaning of my apartment (usually I wait until Sundays to do the weekly OCD cleaning) and i'm just going to enjoy my saturday night in a clean place by eating some (crappy) chinese food and maybe doing some reading.
Next weekend is our first exam. [insert freakout over nothing here]. Now, back to business.
YOU KNOW YOU ARE LAME WHEN:
... I was going to write a long list of things insulting myself and I decided it wasn't necessary. Someone, please, come over and look at my obsessively clean apartment, and you'll automatically know that I had nothing to do this weekend besides study and procrastinate. I have no life. I also have no hard liquor in my apartment to help me ignore the fact that I have no life. WHERE IS MY CHINESE FOOD!?
Hey, did you know, adult neurogenesis was first discovered in birds? Pretty neat, eh? My blog is educational.
Next weekend is our first exam. [insert freakout over nothing here]. Now, back to business.
YOU KNOW YOU ARE LAME WHEN:
... I was going to write a long list of things insulting myself and I decided it wasn't necessary. Someone, please, come over and look at my obsessively clean apartment, and you'll automatically know that I had nothing to do this weekend besides study and procrastinate. I have no life. I also have no hard liquor in my apartment to help me ignore the fact that I have no life. WHERE IS MY CHINESE FOOD!?
Hey, did you know, adult neurogenesis was first discovered in birds? Pretty neat, eh? My blog is educational.
September 5, 2008
Um, this has been a really hard week in terms of sleeping and eating, but you know what makes it awesome? Fulfilling my monthly awkward situation requirement by going out for drinks with both my research adviser AND academic adviser AT THE SAME TIME.
TWO DAYS IN A ROW.
THEY ARE MARRIED TO EACH OTHER.
For some reason that makes it much more awkward for me. The fact that they are married somehow makes me want to perform like a little monkey for them so they will go home and say "My, my, that Elyse is an entertaining little devil," even though what I should hope they say is more like "My, my, that Elyse is really meeting our expectations as a graduate student." But my brain does not work like that, so I'm chugging down a Guinness and making jokes about Sarah Palin's kids' names, Trig and Trackmark and Whatnot.
Actually, I really like hanging out with them because it's not like they are uptight-- they are funny and cool. My brain is just bruised from trying to learn histochemical techniques, memorize the layout of the lab, and thinking of non-sexual non-swearing non-blatantly offensive non-chicago non-cynical jokes. Seriously, I can only make fun of Trackmark Palin and bad North Carolina pizza for so long before I am rifling through my barrel of tricks to find a story that isn't about making a boy cry.
Ugh, it's early. I have situps to do, class to go to, and work-appropriate humor to construct before I go to a BBQ tonight.
TWO DAYS IN A ROW.
THEY ARE MARRIED TO EACH OTHER.
For some reason that makes it much more awkward for me. The fact that they are married somehow makes me want to perform like a little monkey for them so they will go home and say "My, my, that Elyse is an entertaining little devil," even though what I should hope they say is more like "My, my, that Elyse is really meeting our expectations as a graduate student." But my brain does not work like that, so I'm chugging down a Guinness and making jokes about Sarah Palin's kids' names, Trig and Trackmark and Whatnot.
Actually, I really like hanging out with them because it's not like they are uptight-- they are funny and cool. My brain is just bruised from trying to learn histochemical techniques, memorize the layout of the lab, and thinking of non-sexual non-swearing non-blatantly offensive non-chicago non-cynical jokes. Seriously, I can only make fun of Trackmark Palin and bad North Carolina pizza for so long before I am rifling through my barrel of tricks to find a story that isn't about making a boy cry.
Ugh, it's early. I have situps to do, class to go to, and work-appropriate humor to construct before I go to a BBQ tonight.
August 31, 2008
My apartment
... now has food and bedroom furniture. Hooray! We used Tom's Sam's Club membership to go to Sam's yesterday and buy stuff that I use a lot: granola bars, tomato sauce, olive oil, paper towels, brownie mix (mmm), big frozen pretzels (okay, I don't eat a lot of those but they will come in handy someday when I'm craving pretzels). Also this weekend I've bought: french-style couscous in bulk at Whole Foods (I eat TONS of couscous as snack food), two containers of rice milk from Trader Joe's, my bulk oatmeal came in the mail from Amazon.com (best oatmeal ever: Zen Optimum), a couple of yogurts, ice cream (!), and brie. I wish they made soy brie (and for that matter, soy yogurt that wasn't sickeningly sweet). And a few minor other things. Luckily, I got paid on Friday, or I'd totally be broke right now. Most of my money goes to rent and bills but I have some money saved so I can afford to stock up on food like this as long as I don't like, eat it all in one week.
My dresser and nightstand came yesterday! They are so so cool. After I get my apartment straightened up from this weekend I will post a picture. They are black and have neat hardware on them, and the thing that I like best about them is that they aren't clear plastic tupperware storage boxes. I was using one box to put my alarm clock on, and two more boxes to store my clothes. All of my clothes smell like plastic. It is sickening. But now I can wash them and they will suddenly be bathed in pine scent! Which probably isn't too much sexier.
CONFIDENTIAL TO L.A.: I sleep at normal times. If you didn't ignore me so much you'd understand why I need to do this. Sorry I missed you, though.
My dresser and nightstand came yesterday! They are so so cool. After I get my apartment straightened up from this weekend I will post a picture. They are black and have neat hardware on them, and the thing that I like best about them is that they aren't clear plastic tupperware storage boxes. I was using one box to put my alarm clock on, and two more boxes to store my clothes. All of my clothes smell like plastic. It is sickening. But now I can wash them and they will suddenly be bathed in pine scent! Which probably isn't too much sexier.
CONFIDENTIAL TO L.A.: I sleep at normal times. If you didn't ignore me so much you'd understand why I need to do this. Sorry I missed you, though.
August 30, 2008
oh my gosh, i've been so busy that i have been neglecting this little facet of my self expression.
last week i did three main things: eat, learn, and sleep.
i ate southern pizza again, because i'm a glutton for pizza-disappointment. i miss you, charlie fox's and giordano's. i tried chinese food from a place that had free delivery and it wasn't BAD, but it was extremely americanized. one night i ate chips and spinach dip for dinner, which made me feel pretty gross about my life. but last night, tom and i went to Lime and Basil, a vietnamese restaurant that everyone tells me is great, and it totally lived up to expectations. i had a chicken-broth seafood version of pho for $7.50 and it was a huge. finally i was able to enjoy what is enjoyable about asian food: the perfect blend of non-western flavors. it was excellent. the seafood wasn't great so i'll probably get tofu next time, but mm the broth and the noodles and the vegetables were perfect. mm Lime and Basil = the only good asian food in chapel hill.
i started working in lab. i only worked about 12 hours this week but i designed a sampling protocol for a video-taped behavioral experiment that the post-docs ran in june. i am going to go over the sampling protocol with them and hopefully get an undergrad to do that for me, or at least part of it. kendra (one of the post docs) brought in a bunch of wild-caught house finches from the aviary and she's going to start them on a short photoperiod so in 2 months she can stimulate them to reproduction again. she took measurements and weighed all the birds and i wrote down the data for her. i'm not on the protocol to handle the birds yet, but she let me practice holding one anyway-- you hold their neck inbetween your pointer and middle finger, and keep the tips of the fingers together. the bird has a surprisingly thin neck so this is not hard to do at all. if you have your fingers closed together the bird will not be able to escape your grip.
sleeping. i have not been doing enough of it. it's not my fault, really. i go to bed but i have trouble falling asleep. in the morning it is really hard to get out of bed. i crawl into the living room and do situps before i let myself do anything else. then i inject myself with a near lethal dosage of caffeine. no... i drink have a cup of coffee standing up at the counter (i have no chairs) while i watch Good Morning America.
my friend Tom is visiting this weekend! he drove all the way from chicagoland to see carrboro/chapel hill, delight me with his culinary skills, and be afraid for my health when he saw that i had no food in my apartment but granola bars, yogurt, Crystal Light, coffee, and condiments. we have been buying lots of food. now we are off to a coffee shop so i can do some homework. yayyyy work.
i'll try to be more clever and entertaining next time i post. SORRY Y'ALL.
last week i did three main things: eat, learn, and sleep.
i ate southern pizza again, because i'm a glutton for pizza-disappointment. i miss you, charlie fox's and giordano's. i tried chinese food from a place that had free delivery and it wasn't BAD, but it was extremely americanized. one night i ate chips and spinach dip for dinner, which made me feel pretty gross about my life. but last night, tom and i went to Lime and Basil, a vietnamese restaurant that everyone tells me is great, and it totally lived up to expectations. i had a chicken-broth seafood version of pho for $7.50 and it was a huge. finally i was able to enjoy what is enjoyable about asian food: the perfect blend of non-western flavors. it was excellent. the seafood wasn't great so i'll probably get tofu next time, but mm the broth and the noodles and the vegetables were perfect. mm Lime and Basil = the only good asian food in chapel hill.
i started working in lab. i only worked about 12 hours this week but i designed a sampling protocol for a video-taped behavioral experiment that the post-docs ran in june. i am going to go over the sampling protocol with them and hopefully get an undergrad to do that for me, or at least part of it. kendra (one of the post docs) brought in a bunch of wild-caught house finches from the aviary and she's going to start them on a short photoperiod so in 2 months she can stimulate them to reproduction again. she took measurements and weighed all the birds and i wrote down the data for her. i'm not on the protocol to handle the birds yet, but she let me practice holding one anyway-- you hold their neck inbetween your pointer and middle finger, and keep the tips of the fingers together. the bird has a surprisingly thin neck so this is not hard to do at all. if you have your fingers closed together the bird will not be able to escape your grip.
sleeping. i have not been doing enough of it. it's not my fault, really. i go to bed but i have trouble falling asleep. in the morning it is really hard to get out of bed. i crawl into the living room and do situps before i let myself do anything else. then i inject myself with a near lethal dosage of caffeine. no... i drink have a cup of coffee standing up at the counter (i have no chairs) while i watch Good Morning America.
my friend Tom is visiting this weekend! he drove all the way from chicagoland to see carrboro/chapel hill, delight me with his culinary skills, and be afraid for my health when he saw that i had no food in my apartment but granola bars, yogurt, Crystal Light, coffee, and condiments. we have been buying lots of food. now we are off to a coffee shop so i can do some homework. yayyyy work.
i'll try to be more clever and entertaining next time i post. SORRY Y'ALL.
August 26, 2008
Blogger regret
... but not what you think. If you thought something, that is.
Today, my first day officially working in the lab, my boss/adviser came in and reminded us that the printer in lab was broken, but if we had anything to print, we could use the printer in his lab.
"Just remember to bring in your dongle" he said.
Here is where New Grad Student Elyse was unable to suppress her giggling and pretended to be very interested in a map of the songbird auditory cortex. Luckily, I was the only person in the state who knew about the alternate meaning of 'dongle.' Hopefully you'll never be my boss, Jamie. You'll be forced to fire me for sexual harassment, and sadly, it will probably have nothing to do with the word 'dongle' and more with the fact that you and I would have a bias toward hiring hot hot hot hot man candies. That, and I have no self control whatsoever.
Today, my first day officially working in the lab, my boss/adviser came in and reminded us that the printer in lab was broken, but if we had anything to print, we could use the printer in his lab.
"Just remember to bring in your dongle" he said.
Here is where New Grad Student Elyse was unable to suppress her giggling and pretended to be very interested in a map of the songbird auditory cortex. Luckily, I was the only person in the state who knew about the alternate meaning of 'dongle.' Hopefully you'll never be my boss, Jamie. You'll be forced to fire me for sexual harassment, and sadly, it will probably have nothing to do with the word 'dongle' and more with the fact that you and I would have a bias toward hiring hot hot hot hot man candies. That, and I have no self control whatsoever.
August 25, 2008
Today is the first day I've been (almost completely totally wholly) headache free in five days. I don't think it's possible to tell you what a great feeling it is to be able to move around in a well lit area without my head pounding and nausea welling up inside of me.
Jeff Tweedy has migraine headaches and he makes ethereal music. My pain causes me to wake up in the morning with schizophrenic-caliber theories in my head about neuroscience topics. I enjoy Tweedy's headaches more.
I have no social life here. I drink wine by myself in my apartment to soothe my sex drive and my headaches. I clean a lot. I do my work. I should have given up on social activities at UChicago, rather than pursuing them and experiencing frustration at their poor poor quality.
Other things I have noticed about the south lately:
Jeff Tweedy has migraine headaches and he makes ethereal music. My pain causes me to wake up in the morning with schizophrenic-caliber theories in my head about neuroscience topics. I enjoy Tweedy's headaches more.
I have no social life here. I drink wine by myself in my apartment to soothe my sex drive and my headaches. I clean a lot. I do my work. I should have given up on social activities at UChicago, rather than pursuing them and experiencing frustration at their poor poor quality.
Other things I have noticed about the south lately:
- People here dress in boring color and pattern, and everyone dresses the same.
- Girls here straighten their hair, even though it's really hard to have straight hair here.
- My hair is super wavy. No, really, I don't straighten it anymore because it isn't worth it, and now I look like a hippie/cavewoman/like someone who just had crazy sex.
- Where are all the jewish people!?
- ... And the brown people?!
- Coffee is about 75% as expensive here as it is in Chicago. That is all I need to know about on-campus dining, thanks very much.
August 20, 2008
Reading a SEED magazine that i borrowed, i came across the world "solasalgia," which is pain resulting from one's living space. Thus, i would like to coin the world "solasthesia," the exact opposite, and instead of a definition, i'd like to point to my BEAUTIFUL APARTMENT as a shining example of a living space that has eased all of my past (and sometimes present) pain.
Another word that was co-coined with Jamie: dongle. It's already a word, but we gave it a new meaning that you can ask me about in private. My new goal in life is to see a dongle and document its existence somehow. Heffalumps and woozles! And dongles! Oh my!
It was a fabulous day in the 100 acre woods, AKA Carrboro.
Another word that was co-coined with Jamie: dongle. It's already a word, but we gave it a new meaning that you can ask me about in private. My new goal in life is to see a dongle and document its existence somehow. Heffalumps and woozles! And dongles! Oh my!
It was a fabulous day in the 100 acre woods, AKA Carrboro.
internet warz
For posterity, here's my response to a comment someone left about a note of my friend's on Facebook. To paraphrase, my friend wrote about our need to overcome Puritanical ideas and embrace a more personal and liberal version of sex education, which she believes is the key to reducing the abortion rate in the long term. The other girl responded with some confusing rhetoric that can basically be summed in one of her sentences: "I do agree with sex education however, just like how we're taught not to do drugs and to not drink excessively , it still doesn't stop stupid people from doing it . [sic]" I objected to her use of "stupid" to describe people who engage in risky behaviors because for many it is culturally or genetically mediated, and she amended her statement to "Education doesn't stop people who don't care for others health and safety , who do not respect live and never will and those who do not think of consequences."
... which really set me off.
In summary, arguing with high schoolers who can't even use proper grammar is too easy and I can find better ways to use my time.
... which really set me off.
Should we consider those born with bipolar or schizophrenia, for example, people who don't care for the health and safety of others? Or should we consider a young female who makes the hard decision to value her own life's potential over the potential in 100 dividing cells in her uterus someone who does not think of consequences?
Simply because you were fortunate enough to be born into a family with no genetic predisposition or family problems relating to addictions or other risky behaviors, a family who instilled you with a strong black/white religious moral background, because you are the sort of person who is able to be unquestioning in the face of opportunities, does not mean that everyone is so lucky.
I believe that abortion is up to each person and should therefore be legal. We can only understand the decision from each person's individual situation-- I wouldn't want someone to make a decision about your body for you. I believe what Abby is trying to say is that each person needs to be educated, but deeper than that-- that they need to be educated about themselves-- their UNIQUE needs, the singular nature of their own life history and future. Only by encouraging women to be less prudish about their own bodies and the independent nature of the consequences of their independent actions can we expect them to make responsible decisions.
Education about sex should not be some abstract chalk-talk using plastic penises and latex babies, it should be an attempt to become intimate with one's own biological processes, value system (religion-derived or otherwise), and personal goals.
If a girl is aware of her own wants (professional/social/sexual/etc) and the ways in which she can facilitate or damage her path to success, RATHER THAN attempting to blindly appease someone else (a boyfriend/parents/God/etc) she can be more confident and more wise in her decision making when it comes to sex, drugs, alcohol, academics, hobbies-- you name it.
In summary, arguing with high schoolers who can't even use proper grammar is too easy and I can find better ways to use my time.
August 18, 2008
biking
Scratch what I said about being able to bike everywhere in Chapel Hill. You can't, at least not from where I live, with skinny toothpick un-muscled legs like mine. It's hilly! There aren't any shoulders or bike lanes on some of the roads! In short, I imagined that I almost got killed, and it was a scary scenario involving me on my bike, tumbling down a cliff, where no one would ever find my body.
August 17, 2008
holy crap
... I just saw a hornet the size of my toe. The toe next to the big toe. Why are the bugs bigger here? WHY!?
Also, did you know you aren't supposed to kill hornets? Because if you happen to be within some proximity to the nest it will release all these "I've been MURDERED" pheromones and the whole hive will come after you.
Also, only YOU can prevent forest fires.
Also, did you know you aren't supposed to kill hornets? Because if you happen to be within some proximity to the nest it will release all these "I've been MURDERED" pheromones and the whole hive will come after you.
Also, only YOU can prevent forest fires.
Musings
Sometimes when i get a migraine (like now), i have this very 'religious' experience wherein everything has more meaning to me than it has in my pain-free days. Coincidence blows my mind.
This morning while I crawled into the kitchen and up the cabinets in search of advil, thinking how goddamn pathetic I must look, and trying not to vomit in my freshly cleaned cabinets... where am I going with this? Anyway, I thought that perhaps people like me get nearly debilitating headaches twice a month for a reason. Because it makes me think at least twice a month that it would be nice to have another person around to bring me advil and protein water in bed and tell me how brave I am for fighting off neurological electrical storms. Not just for fun stuff like makin' out.
Buuuuut, i think i'll be back to my old self by tomorrow.
This morning while I crawled into the kitchen and up the cabinets in search of advil, thinking how goddamn pathetic I must look, and trying not to vomit in my freshly cleaned cabinets... where am I going with this? Anyway, I thought that perhaps people like me get nearly debilitating headaches twice a month for a reason. Because it makes me think at least twice a month that it would be nice to have another person around to bring me advil and protein water in bed and tell me how brave I am for fighting off neurological electrical storms. Not just for fun stuff like makin' out.
Buuuuut, i think i'll be back to my old self by tomorrow.
August 15, 2008
UNC life pwns UChicago life
Being a student at UNC is the total opposite of being a student at UChicago. I haven't taken any classes yet, so I'm not even talking about whatever differences there may be in academic rigor.
First: If you go to UChicago, you have to live in Hyde Park, or you have to be willing to commute. Commuting sucks because there isn't very convenient access to campus from the CTA. Living in Hyde Park sucks because there isn't really a great place to live. If you live close to campus, you're probably close to Hyde Park Produce and your classes, but you're a long way from access to downtown and a long way from all the more interesting places to eat on 53rd and 55th street. If you live farther, you have easy access to all these cool Thai restaurants, Hookah, etc, but you have to shop at the inferior grocery store and you're so far from campus. The thing is, though, that you really aren't "far" from campus-- it's only like 6 blocks-- but it seems SO FAR, especially in the winter.
At UNC, you can live in another TOWN and still feel connected to campus. You can bike everywhere and don't have to worry about getting mugged when you walk at night. There is free bus transportation for everyone, and you don't have to have your ID to ride. There are cool restaurants all over the place. There are MANY good grocery stores (including Whole Foods and Trader Joe's) and local produce, and you can access them all by bus if you've got it together.
Second: Everyone here is NICE. At UChicago, when you walk into a room of people, you automatically get the impression that everyone is thinking of ways to prove they are smarter than you. Or that you put too much/not enough effort into your appearance, depending on the person. (Just because Einstein didn't have time to groom himself doesn't mean you don't have to-- you aren't as important as he is, trust me). People are on guard to any other presence because they must preserve their personal integrity as "a smart person." Of course, everyone there IS very smart. I don't understand why everyone's gotta have this complex.
Also, no one at UChicago will hold a door open for you unless they are from the midwest, and sometimes not even then. Because they are in their own heads, I guess? But it's not about chivalry or antiquated gender roles (even though most of the guys will argue with you that it is, mostly because they feel under attack by your statement [see above paragraph]), it's about not letting a door slam in someone's face if they are holding a stack of books, a cup of coffee, a baby, a rack of test tubes, a home-made atomic bomb, or all of the above. LISTEN UP: Everyone, everyone, everyone at UNC will hold open a door for you, unless they don't know you are behind them. Sometimes a man will stop and hold a door open for you and let you go through first.
And! Guys are just nicer here. No one yells crude things. Everything is subtle. And no one is trying to prove how smart they are in the first 15 seconds of your introduction to them. And if you don't know what something is, you can ask about it, and someone will tell you in a non-condescending way. Everyone is smart and no one needs to prove it in a social situation. That's how it should be, right?
The last big difference I've noticed in this week of orientation is that my advisers at UNC are seriously considerate about my mental welfare. "You don't need to take another class-- there's plenty of time for that later." "We know you will be busy, and we don't want you to be stressed out." I found myself itching to take an optional elective class and found everyone else telling me I was nuts for pushing myself unnecessarily. That would never happen at UChicago. Be relaxed? Save time for social things? Where has UNC been all my life?
I'm even finding it hard to be cynical.
First: If you go to UChicago, you have to live in Hyde Park, or you have to be willing to commute. Commuting sucks because there isn't very convenient access to campus from the CTA. Living in Hyde Park sucks because there isn't really a great place to live. If you live close to campus, you're probably close to Hyde Park Produce and your classes, but you're a long way from access to downtown and a long way from all the more interesting places to eat on 53rd and 55th street. If you live farther, you have easy access to all these cool Thai restaurants, Hookah, etc, but you have to shop at the inferior grocery store and you're so far from campus. The thing is, though, that you really aren't "far" from campus-- it's only like 6 blocks-- but it seems SO FAR, especially in the winter.
At UNC, you can live in another TOWN and still feel connected to campus. You can bike everywhere and don't have to worry about getting mugged when you walk at night. There is free bus transportation for everyone, and you don't have to have your ID to ride. There are cool restaurants all over the place. There are MANY good grocery stores (including Whole Foods and Trader Joe's) and local produce, and you can access them all by bus if you've got it together.
Second: Everyone here is NICE. At UChicago, when you walk into a room of people, you automatically get the impression that everyone is thinking of ways to prove they are smarter than you. Or that you put too much/not enough effort into your appearance, depending on the person. (Just because Einstein didn't have time to groom himself doesn't mean you don't have to-- you aren't as important as he is, trust me). People are on guard to any other presence because they must preserve their personal integrity as "a smart person." Of course, everyone there IS very smart. I don't understand why everyone's gotta have this complex.
Also, no one at UChicago will hold a door open for you unless they are from the midwest, and sometimes not even then. Because they are in their own heads, I guess? But it's not about chivalry or antiquated gender roles (even though most of the guys will argue with you that it is, mostly because they feel under attack by your statement [see above paragraph]), it's about not letting a door slam in someone's face if they are holding a stack of books, a cup of coffee, a baby, a rack of test tubes, a home-made atomic bomb, or all of the above. LISTEN UP: Everyone, everyone, everyone at UNC will hold open a door for you, unless they don't know you are behind them. Sometimes a man will stop and hold a door open for you and let you go through first.
And! Guys are just nicer here. No one yells crude things. Everything is subtle. And no one is trying to prove how smart they are in the first 15 seconds of your introduction to them. And if you don't know what something is, you can ask about it, and someone will tell you in a non-condescending way. Everyone is smart and no one needs to prove it in a social situation. That's how it should be, right?
The last big difference I've noticed in this week of orientation is that my advisers at UNC are seriously considerate about my mental welfare. "You don't need to take another class-- there's plenty of time for that later." "We know you will be busy, and we don't want you to be stressed out." I found myself itching to take an optional elective class and found everyone else telling me I was nuts for pushing myself unnecessarily. That would never happen at UChicago. Be relaxed? Save time for social things? Where has UNC been all my life?
I'm even finding it hard to be cynical.
August 13, 2008
OK BBZ
OH HAI. I am in North Carolina now, and I have internet, but I don't have time to update with pictures until this weekend. But I am having an awesome time, despite the fact that half of the people in my program are married. You can't win 'em all. I'll find other ways to have fun.
I had a miniature FREAK OUT yesterday when I met the head of the neurobiology department, and when I told him my name, he said he "remembered my application." My reaction to this was that my personal statement must have been extremely obnoxious (and I'm fairly sure it was) but everyone else assures me that it's a good thing. He wants to have a meeting with me and my advisers to work out a special course program so I can take behavior and evolution classes in the biology department and apply them to my neurobiology program and be a NEUROETHOLOGIST. Then, in just 20-30 years, when I've established myself in the field, I will start a science journal called NEUROETHOLOGIST for which I will be the editor.
I have plans for the next 50 years of my life but I don't have any food in my fridge and don't know how to use the bus system to get any. I'm imagining my interviews for post doctoral research positions and I haven't prepared for my meeting with my adviser today. Sounds like someone (me) needs to re-read Sometimes a Great Notion.
I had a miniature FREAK OUT yesterday when I met the head of the neurobiology department, and when I told him my name, he said he "remembered my application." My reaction to this was that my personal statement must have been extremely obnoxious (and I'm fairly sure it was) but everyone else assures me that it's a good thing. He wants to have a meeting with me and my advisers to work out a special course program so I can take behavior and evolution classes in the biology department and apply them to my neurobiology program and be a NEUROETHOLOGIST. Then, in just 20-30 years, when I've established myself in the field, I will start a science journal called NEUROETHOLOGIST for which I will be the editor.
I have plans for the next 50 years of my life but I don't have any food in my fridge and don't know how to use the bus system to get any. I'm imagining my interviews for post doctoral research positions and I haven't prepared for my meeting with my adviser today. Sounds like someone (me) needs to re-read Sometimes a Great Notion.
August 11, 2008
mini update
I made it to north carolina! I am... stealing internet, lying on my comfy bed in my beautiful apartment, and anticipating another OK day of graduate student orientation. I think all i have to do tomorrow is attend a panel on "choosing courses" and eat lunch with a grad student "mentor." Oh, and then i need to go to Whole Foods and stock my pantry with something other than bottled water and instant oatmeal. Although, i am able to thrive on instant oatmeal. I've done it before.
August 8, 2008
Flashback
I think a big part of life is delayed gratification. If you wait long enough you can have anything you once desired. Examples:
1. TONY SCALZO is my facebook friend *HeAdExPlOdEs*
2. [private]
3. They finally have Beatles umbrellas at the Fest!
4. Grad school, live in warm climate, have own apartment, etc
5. [private]
Sorry for all those privates. I don't know who reads this thing.
In conclusion: if you sit around and wait until you are a good looking 22 year old/have a college diploma/Tony Scalzo joins facebook, you can achieve ANYTHING. Unless you are Tony Scalzo-- in which case, you can't be your own Facebook friend. Sorry to disappoint.
Edit 8/9/08:
6. I finally met Mark Hudson! He's at Beatlefest every year and I want to adopt him as my crazy, rainbow-beared uncle, and I finally got a picture with him.
By the way, I'll be posting some pictures next week after the internet starts working in my apartment. And I probably won't post anything until then. Go read Jorge Garcia's blog or something.
1. TONY SCALZO is my facebook friend *HeAdExPlOdEs*
2. [private]
3. They finally have Beatles umbrellas at the Fest!
4. Grad school, live in warm climate, have own apartment, etc
5. [private]
Sorry for all those privates. I don't know who reads this thing.
In conclusion: if you sit around and wait until you are a good looking 22 year old/have a college diploma/Tony Scalzo joins facebook, you can achieve ANYTHING. Unless you are Tony Scalzo-- in which case, you can't be your own Facebook friend. Sorry to disappoint.
Edit 8/9/08:
6. I finally met Mark Hudson! He's at Beatlefest every year and I want to adopt him as my crazy, rainbow-beared uncle, and I finally got a picture with him.
By the way, I'll be posting some pictures next week after the internet starts working in my apartment. And I probably won't post anything until then. Go read Jorge Garcia's blog or something.
August 7, 2008
my last days in illinois
Sadly, they have been filled with migraines and weather headaches. I won't go into all the vomiting i've been doing lately on this blog. Sorry, emetophiles!
When i'm not vomiting, i've been drinking, getting massages, and buying lots of stuff-- which i really shouldn't do, because now i have a lot to fit into my teeny tiny suitcase. This morning, Abby and i went out for coffee and "browsing" but i ended up buying new panties, a fedora, and a necklace with a vial on the end. I plan to keep something in the vial, but i'm not sure what. Illinois soil, perhaps, or maybe some of a lover's blood. Only time will tell. Time, and a court order.
When i'm not vomiting, i've been drinking, getting massages, and buying lots of stuff-- which i really shouldn't do, because now i have a lot to fit into my teeny tiny suitcase. This morning, Abby and i went out for coffee and "browsing" but i ended up buying new panties, a fedora, and a necklace with a vial on the end. I plan to keep something in the vial, but i'm not sure what. Illinois soil, perhaps, or maybe some of a lover's blood. Only time will tell. Time, and a court order.
August 6, 2008
August 5, 2008
random things
- i am sitting here listening to Queen on my iPod while i wait to go out for coffee with tom. it's pretty obnoxious to listen to your iPod with other people around but i think it's even more obnoxious to sit at a computer and sing "We are the Champions" into a remote control while someone is trying to watch television behind you. ah, well. sorry mom, but you raised me to be this way.
- do you know if you can bring anything at all interesting on an airplane anymore? like tweezers? or computer cables? or sex toys? i might have to check a suitcase.
- IKEA has all this crap on their website but they don't deliver half of it. where else am i going to find 15 dollar barstools? or creepy worm-like paper lanterns? how can i survive without modern art dishwashing brushes!?!??! it might be a big mistake to relocate five hours from the nearest worthwhile city (i.e. metropolitan area with an IKEA)
- being a girl > being a boy, reason #1: wearing dresses.
August 3, 2008
a post-script conclusion
when i moved, i found the other half of my post-its. for my emotional reaction to this resolution, see the bible's rendition of "the prodigal son."
"my thoughts on" the south
(once i dated a guy with a blog. he titled every entry "my thoughts on [subject that alludes to his emoness]." i hope this guy checks out my blog sometime and burns with anger inside that i would dare insult him and his emoness and his suburban angst writing style. here's to you, BT. )
1. cigarettes are half price in the south, but lung cancer treatments probably aren't.
2. west virginia is a beautiful place full of people who know nothing about customer service.
3. kentucky is best viewed while listening to a bluegrass radio station.
4. no matter how long you're in indiana, it's too long.
5. no matter how long you're in north carolina, it's not long enough.
6. i don't think you appreciate virginia as much as you should. yes, you.
7. THERE ARE GIANT INSECTS EVERYWHERE. by everywhere, i mean that i saw one in my bathroom, and that is enough.
you can read more about my journey to the south at my other blog, which currently has no posts in it, so i haven't posted the link yet. patience, my little mint juleps.
1. cigarettes are half price in the south, but lung cancer treatments probably aren't.
2. west virginia is a beautiful place full of people who know nothing about customer service.
3. kentucky is best viewed while listening to a bluegrass radio station.
4. no matter how long you're in indiana, it's too long.
5. no matter how long you're in north carolina, it's not long enough.
6. i don't think you appreciate virginia as much as you should. yes, you.
7. THERE ARE GIANT INSECTS EVERYWHERE. by everywhere, i mean that i saw one in my bathroom, and that is enough.
you can read more about my journey to the south at my other blog, which currently has no posts in it, so i haven't posted the link yet. patience, my little mint juleps.
July 29, 2008
Things you almost always regret as soon as your liver is free of alcohol:
1. Eating those bar peanuts.
2. Not moving those clean clothes off your bed before you went out for drinks.
3. Throwing aforementioned clean clothes on the ground after going out for drinks.
4. Texting people you have dated, regardless of what you said.
5. Staring for what you now realize was a long long time at the boys on the other side of the room who went to your high school.
6. Thinking you can dance.
2. Not moving those clean clothes off your bed before you went out for drinks.
3. Throwing aforementioned clean clothes on the ground after going out for drinks.
4. Texting people you have dated, regardless of what you said.
5. Staring for what you now realize was a long long time at the boys on the other side of the room who went to your high school.
6. Thinking you can dance.
July 28, 2008
not economizing
i have been buying lots of things. buying things makes me feel like i am improving myself. in america, if you throw money at something, you can either improve it or have sex with it. i can have sex with myself for free so hopefully i'll also improve. we are in america, after all. this ain't canada, where my money cain't e'en buy the empty stare of a blind gentleman. (i don't even know what i mean by that)
i bought clothes and accessories and bike tires, but thats not interesting to write about.
i bought Shere Hite's study of male sexuality (a hefty tome) for five dollars at the Newberry Library's used book sale. it was the best five dollars i've spent since buying five dollars worth of chocolate covered raisins. my next boyfriend might be happy i'm learning from the book, but i can almost guarantee that the raisins had the tastier outcome of the two purchases.
i bought a used J Crew sweater and an espresso machine for ten dollars total at a garage sale down the street. this was the best ten dollars i've spent since, well, that's a private matter. but that was a damn good purchase.
i bought clothes and accessories and bike tires, but thats not interesting to write about.
i bought Shere Hite's study of male sexuality (a hefty tome) for five dollars at the Newberry Library's used book sale. it was the best five dollars i've spent since buying five dollars worth of chocolate covered raisins. my next boyfriend might be happy i'm learning from the book, but i can almost guarantee that the raisins had the tastier outcome of the two purchases.
i bought a used J Crew sweater and an espresso machine for ten dollars total at a garage sale down the street. this was the best ten dollars i've spent since, well, that's a private matter. but that was a damn good purchase.
Dear You
I'm sorry for sometimes being a canister of concentrated hatred let loose in your metaphorical front yard. Someday I'll be a nice girl, if the rehab works.
Love, Me
Love, Me
July 25, 2008
anhedonia
i have, in general, much difficulty feeling enthusiastic about anything, but holidays and social situations in particular.. when i moved to college there was a running joke in my dorm because i reminded this huge group of movie loving people of Annie Hall; they claimed this was a compliment because they loved that movie. well, i'd never seen Annie Hall, and when i finally did, i found it to be less of a compliment and more of an astute perception of my not-as-carefully-hidden-as-i'd-like neuroses. whatever, so i don't experience collective effervescence? boo hoo.
so here is a shortlist of things that most people enjoy and that i find (a) uninspiring or (b) depressing because i find them uninspiring. the difference between (a) and (b) is the amount of ecstasy i feel as though i am missing.
so here is a shortlist of things that most people enjoy and that i find (a) uninspiring or (b) depressing because i find them uninspiring. the difference between (a) and (b) is the amount of ecstasy i feel as though i am missing.
- graduation; mine or anyone else's. i mean, i was pretty damn glad to be done and to move out of my shitty apartment, but i'm sure there's more to it than that.
- 4th of july; i hate fireworks.
- christmas and new year's eve; NYE is the worst because there is so much pressure to enjoy it. usually i sit at home and cry and eat cookies and watch a movie that takes place in the summer months and drink alone.
- weddings; actually, this probably shouldn't go on the list... i just feel sad for people who get married to some loser, or who get married young and don't get to have any fun. but i also don't want to have a wedding ever, so i'm including it.
- birthdays; just mine, actually. i hate forcing people to celebrate my birth when they should really be rueing the day, like i am. if someone would just leave a cake on my doorstep and give me the day off to eat it and ignore happybirthdays as i please, that would be ideal.
- romance; ugh, i know you just want to make out with me. stop pretending you care and put your hands on my boobs. good boy/girl.
July 23, 2008
my class ring
my mom insisted that i let her buy me a class ring because i spent four years at the University of Chicago being stressed out, depressed, emotionally and intellectually isolated from my peers, and working my fucking ass off (most of the time). at the time, i mostly agreed because i didn't want to argue with her, because all i cared about was graduating and getting the hell out.
... but now that my ring is finally on my hand, i am so glad i have it. thanks mom!
i had the company create a custom die for me because i have a specialization in neuroscience. to be honest, my degree was technically in biology but my heart was only in the neuroscience (well, i loved the evolution and ecology classes but i didn't specialize in that). our degrees are A.B., not B.A., so i wanted to reflect that on the ring, too... because why would i want a ring to commemorate my college degree in an almost-accurate manner? it didn't cost anything extra for me to be a picky bitch about it, anyway. so my ring took an extra month and a half. and now it's finally here!
it is white gold with a white/clear stone in it and no black detail tarnishing, so it doesn't look like some rah-rah-school-pride ring. it is a serious symbol of my commitment to neurobiology. on one side it says A.B. Neurobiology, and on the other, 2008, and no other ring will say that.
the other thing i like about the ring is that it's big and hard and if i need to, i can hit somebody with it. haha, just kidding?
... but now that my ring is finally on my hand, i am so glad i have it. thanks mom!
i had the company create a custom die for me because i have a specialization in neuroscience. to be honest, my degree was technically in biology but my heart was only in the neuroscience (well, i loved the evolution and ecology classes but i didn't specialize in that). our degrees are A.B., not B.A., so i wanted to reflect that on the ring, too... because why would i want a ring to commemorate my college degree in an almost-accurate manner? it didn't cost anything extra for me to be a picky bitch about it, anyway. so my ring took an extra month and a half. and now it's finally here!
it is white gold with a white/clear stone in it and no black detail tarnishing, so it doesn't look like some rah-rah-school-pride ring. it is a serious symbol of my commitment to neurobiology. on one side it says A.B. Neurobiology, and on the other, 2008, and no other ring will say that.
the other thing i like about the ring is that it's big and hard and if i need to, i can hit somebody with it. haha, just kidding?
July 21, 2008
July 20, 2008
i'm moving...
...to the south! did you know they have fried everything there? fried cheesecake, fried nachos, fried pig intestines. fried mac'n'cheese, perhaps.
July 31-August 3rd, my dad and i are driving a big white terrorist-style cargo van full of my non-terrorist belongings to my apartment. and we're coming back (it's cheaper to rent a van that way, for your future information). i am most excited to risk our lives driving an oversized vehicle on perilous mountain roads.
August 10th-- say nice things about me because i'm gone. (that's a song lyric, i know you don't have anything nice to say about me)
September 26th-- i just thought i'd include my birthday in this list of (ir)relevant dates-- irrelevant dates? i didn't think we were talking about my last relationship... ba-zing... :(
July 31-August 3rd, my dad and i are driving a big white terrorist-style cargo van full of my non-terrorist belongings to my apartment. and we're coming back (it's cheaper to rent a van that way, for your future information). i am most excited to risk our lives driving an oversized vehicle on perilous mountain roads.
August 10th-- say nice things about me because i'm gone. (that's a song lyric, i know you don't have anything nice to say about me)
September 26th-- i just thought i'd include my birthday in this list of (ir)relevant dates-- irrelevant dates? i didn't think we were talking about my last relationship... ba-zing... :(
July 18, 2008
fail
1. every morning i wake up and tell myself:
"Elyse, you are not going to eat lots of carbs today! Let's get real, lady!"
then i head downstairs and eat a bowl of cereal and that's that. i fail. and that's all i really have to say about that. i should really invest in some yogurt or something. or eggs? yeah, i really do know how to eat right. there's no excuse for this behavior.
2. every evening i sit around and feel out of shape and i say,
"Tomorrow I will go on a run! No more 'Yellow Wallpaper' Elyse! Fit and healthy Elyse!"
and every morning i wake up and say,
"'Yellow Wallpaper' Elyse? What an inept analogy; you don't have post-partum. Settle down, honey, just do some crunches."
and that's what i do. fail.
"Elyse, you are not going to eat lots of carbs today! Let's get real, lady!"
then i head downstairs and eat a bowl of cereal and that's that. i fail. and that's all i really have to say about that. i should really invest in some yogurt or something. or eggs? yeah, i really do know how to eat right. there's no excuse for this behavior.
2. every evening i sit around and feel out of shape and i say,
"Tomorrow I will go on a run! No more 'Yellow Wallpaper' Elyse! Fit and healthy Elyse!"
and every morning i wake up and say,
"'Yellow Wallpaper' Elyse? What an inept analogy; you don't have post-partum. Settle down, honey, just do some crunches."
and that's what i do. fail.
July 17, 2008
my life is in utter disarray
do you know that feeling? it sucks, right? dude, yes. but perhaps what distresses me most about this disarray is that i bought a package of (generic) post its two weeks ago and half of it is sitting here on my desk, and the other half is missing. why!!?!? why did you leave me, post its? i can prove myself worthy, i really can... just come back to me, come back home.
the remaining half of the post its sit less than two feet away, mocking me, flaunting my failures as an organizer.
the remaining half of the post its sit less than two feet away, mocking me, flaunting my failures as an organizer.
July 16, 2008
some things i said i'd never do but i did recently
1. see an Angelina Jolie film in the theatres
2. buy skinny jeans:
what can i say? i look good in them.
somebody take me out so i can pretend i'm a scenester. i'll part my hair really far to the side and wear some big sunglasses in the dark. i'll wear too much red lipstick and refuse to smile. i'll wear some godawful gladiator sandals.
2. buy skinny jeans:
what can i say? i look good in them.
somebody take me out so i can pretend i'm a scenester. i'll part my hair really far to the side and wear some big sunglasses in the dark. i'll wear too much red lipstick and refuse to smile. i'll wear some godawful gladiator sandals.
July 15, 2008
bad luck
I have a mosquito bite on exactly the place on my foot where a sandal strap will rub, should I choose to wear shoes today. It's also right on a bone. Ouch.
EDIT (7/16) : I did not, in fact, choose to wear shoes yesterday.
EDIT (7/16) : I did not, in fact, choose to wear shoes yesterday.
July 14, 2008
nepotism beneficiaries
As a society I don't know why we allow this to happen:
At least my furniture is something real, unlike Haylie Duff's acting abilities.
- Lisa Marie Presley
- Ashlee Simpson
- Jamie Lynn Spears
- Miley Cyrus
- Haylie Duff
- Emily Osment
- Will Smith's children
- the other Hilton sister
- Ali Lohan
- Kim Stewart
- George W. Bush
- Avril Lavigne (not a nepotism beneficiary, but she's famous because... ? Because she looks like a shaved rat and embodies the sentiment of an bullied 13 year old girl?)
- the Castro family
- anyone affiliated with the Hills (even worse than nepotism... it's like MTV masturbating itself)
- legacy kids at Ivy League colleges
- me, after I inherit all my mom's jewelry and my parents' beautiful mission furniture
At least my furniture is something real, unlike Haylie Duff's acting abilities.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
