Life, the Universe, and Everything

So it is about that time... time for me to join the "real world" and time for this hippie to "get a job." Yesterday I was suddenly struck with the motivation to apply to a few positions that I found in the local paper. Well, to be truthful, I was trying to avoid studying for a test, but anyway... I managed to find two jobs which I appeared to be qualified. As such, I had just fired off an email including my resume and cover letter to the first position, and was in the middle of amending the paperwork for the second, when my cell phone rang. It was Cory. We talked for about three minutes, and when my phone indicated that I had another call, I ignored it. After I had concluded the conversation, I checked the resulting message. Apparently not five minutes after I had emailed the first job, I got a call back from the employer. What? Oh, and this is the best part- when they called (and I ignored them) they were directed to my voice mailbox, which (as many know) has held ...

"Well-behaved women seldom make history." --Laurel Thatcher Ulrich I saw a bumper sticker that boasted this slogan the other day. I thought it was rather clever. Is it true I wonder? If it is, then I am destined go down in the annals of time, becasue there are few that can

It greatly disturbs me that I have a bottle of fish sauce in my refrigerator. I have no idea how it came to be there. For that matter, I have no idea what it is used for. It has been sitting there rather unassumingly for some time now, fraternizing with the Grey Poupon in some forgotten corner of my condiments shelf. I am not in the habit of wasting food, and as such, I have not had the heart to throw it away. I think it had a love tryst with the kikkoman. I have been finding little packets of duck sauce strewn about, and I can only assume that they are the progeny of their illicit union. It prompted me to write a haiku about the whole sordid affair. Fish sauce how can you Sit there so coolly while I Ponder your being? The soy sauce was so distraught it tried to commit suicide yesterday, leaping haphazardly from its precarious perch. Or was it just trying to distance itself from the minced garlic? If my neighbor had such an offensive disposition, I might try to move too.

I got a professional massage yesterday. It was fucking awesome! Words cannot describe the deed. It was the first time I had ever been presented with the opportunity, and I have got to tell you, massage therapy is definitely hedonism at its zenith. I got the gift certificate as a birthday present. I had waited to cash it in for some time. Half the experience is usually the anticipation of the event. Man was I wrong, it was a wholly unexpected phenomena in itself. It met and exceeded my expectations by a factor of ten. Now a lot of people will trade massages with friend or lover, but not many like to give them as much as they like getting them. This is a tragic shortcoming of humanity. Life would be so much better, and there would be a lot less tension in the world if giving a massage was as rewarding as receiving. I was checking out the normal rates of the clinic when I initially got the certificate, and I thought them costly at the time. I since amended my sentiment, and I believe it i...

It has recently become very apparent that I have a habit of "placing the cart before the horse." There are certain people that tell me this may be serous shortcomeing in character, and others call me a dreamer, but is that such a very bad thing?. I am a very excitable individual. I tend to take ideas and kind of run with them. Now, it is normal for an individuals to contemplate the possible outcomes of an event. That sort of thinking is even commendable, for it demonstrates ones ability to rationalize. When an event presents itself that necessitates a decision, I try to make a logical descision. When I rationalize with myself, I formulate a number of consequences, however (and this is the zinger) I tend to fixate on the most appealing one. Unrealistic? Perhaps. It would be awefully nice if life was so idyllic. However, is it so very bad to hope for the best? Is optimism necessarily wrong? As T. E. Lawrence once said, " All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by ...

It is amazing how productive I can be when I am trying to avoid being productive. Case in point : This weekend I had a microbiology test for which I desperately needed to study. The problem being, I had virtually no interest in the material being tested over. As such, I systematically identified and preformed every other undesirable chore available in the house. My hope: that my slack rate and my productivity rate would balance each other out. So, in avoidance of said material, I did 10 loads of laundry, reorganized my storage room, went grocery shopping, and did some very nasty dishes. In retrospect, it was slightly foolish. What was it about the test that was so repulsive that I would rather face a pile of dirty laundry that weighs more than I do? Are the mechanisms of bacterial transcription and translation really more offensive than a sink filled with plates featuring week-old-spaghetti clinging tenaciously to small chunks of rancid meatballs? That is a tough call. I go through th...

Tis true. If there was a monarchy in the mythical land of good intentions, I would rule absolute. For instance: Somewhere in a box, I have whole sets of Christmas cards dating back two years. Now, buying a box of Christmas cards and forgetting about them is not in and of itself spectacular. What is interesting is that they are completely filled out, many with addresses and stamps on them. I simply cannot bring myself to mail them. As a matter of fact, I have 3 complete sets of cards that I never sent out. All in all, that is about 60 cards that I wrote in extensively, and never sent. It is almost like some sort of neurosis. I also have a few letters like that. I am not sure what it is about me that makes me unable to send those cards. I cannot even be able to speculate. I have thought about it for a long time, and I can devise no feasible hypothesis to explain the behavior. It is ironic in a way. In my everyday life, I find that I say too much. I have long suspected that I am quick to ...

Happy Birthday to you Happy Birthday to you You look like a monkey And you live in a zoo... Last Friday I was walking down the sidewalk, and I heard some young girls singing the above verses while playfully chiding one of their contemporaries (man I sound old). Being as how it was practically my birthday, and considering the tune was amusing enough, I have had the song stuck in my head for days now. I found the above picture of Charles Darwin and thought that the image was strangely fitting for the sentiment. I love my birthday. Some people would prefer not to have them due to some fear of aging. I, however, do not prescribe to that school of thought. Birthdays are awesome. My birthday is the only holiday specifically dedicated to me. I do share the day with approximately 0.274% of the world population (assuming there is an equal probability of being born on any day of the year - which incidentally I do not think is true), but I still consider it a 'me' holiday. This year wi...

So I recently got the sordid details of my latest research endeavor. The intricacies are probably not as interesting to you as they are to me, however, suffice it to say that I will be working in plant science. I have worked in the field before, but this time is a little bit different: I get to work with tobacco. Herein lies the irony: Not only am I currently employed by a brewery, but I am researching tobacco. All I need to do now is get involved with an arbitrary militant group, and I will be my own Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. I always try to find humor in what I do. In my last research position was working in a molecular genomic lab. We worked on some very esoteric problems, however one of the projects we were working on (in collaboration with another facility) was attempting to understand and mitigate the expression of the genes responsible for alcoholism. So at that time, not only was I making alcohol to distribute to the masses, but I was simultaneously work...

"A hard drinker, being at table, was offered grapes at dessert. 'Thank you,' said he, pushing the dish away from him, 'but I am not in the habit of taking my wine in pills.'" --The Physiology of Taste As graduation approaches, as of late I have found myself seriously considering pursuing a masters degree in oenology and viticulture. How does the saying go? In vino veritas ... There is some truth to that. Which is to say the alcohol industry is where its at. The people are fun, and the job is all about drinking good wine, eating good food, and traveling abroad. Plus, I get to work outside doing something somewhat reputable. What more can you ask for out of a career? There is only one caveat to the whole scenario: there are only four (major) schools who actually offer the degree. Cornell is one, then there is UC Davis, Fresno , and Washington State . My fear: that I get rejected from all four. What then? Would I have to give up on my dreams of dri...

So it is almost that time again. Another year, another candle on the cake. With a whopping 25 candles this year, the pastry should be visible from New Jersey. I grow nervous. Certain key individuals have not asked me what I want this year. Maybe I'll just get a lump of coal. Or is that Christmas? Well at any rate, I did receive one early present this year: I opened a case of Boulevard's Christmas beer, Nutcracker Ale, and noticed a very interesting phenomena: My name is on every bottle. Now before you jump to conclusions as to the nature of my most recent exploits, I would like to add that there are many other names on the label besides my own. The company, in recognition of its employees, places their names on the labels of that particular brew. It is a nice little perk. Last year I was not on because I do not work there on a full time basis; however, I guess this year they thought enough of me and my work to add me anyway. I rock!!! So next time I am battling with someone o...

It is my last semester in school and I am at a loss. A loss of motivation, and a loss of direction. You know, I had always pictured myself as being particularly driven during this last stretch, nevertheless, I am just too tired. School is much like a marathon. Now I cannot say that I have ever run a marathon, however, I did a 13 mile jog once, and that was enough to get the gist of the thing. By the time you see those last two miles, it is not really that you are physically exhausted, it is more to the fact that you are tired of running. It gets a bit repetitive. As such, the massive amount of work I am pumping into school (with no tangible reward in sight) has me a bit worn at the edges. At least at the end of the marathon they give you a glass of gatorade and a crappy tee-shirt. When you finish college you are handed an empty diploma case and a big fat student loan bill. Bastards. I want them to give me a tee shirt that says "I went to college, accumulated 131 credit hours, did ...

It bothers me a great deal that as a female, I am not completely in command of my emotions at all times. I mean, there are certain genetic and physiological processes that are conspiring against me. Their influence is marked. I am privy to the effects of the waxing and waning of hormone levels that are the cornerstone of my gender. These sinister, cabalistic forces have influenced my actions in ways that have changed the course of my life countless times... and certainly proved to be the bane of my existence more than once. Really, sex determines a significant amount of choices we make, and even the opportunities that we are presented with. It can determine the people you get close to, those you do not, social status, etc. Now I am not trying to undermine the feminist movement or anything, but the simple scientific truth is that there are subtle but tangible differences in physiology between males and females which can fundamentally alter your thought processes in many ways ...

While there is something to be said for making the most of whatever predicament you find yourself in, I cannot help wishing to experience every possibility the universe has to offer simultaneously. During my waking hours, my mind often digresses, and I find myself wondering what if ... What if I had not gone on that trip... what would have happen if I had talked just a bit longer with that interesting girl in the coffee shop... if I had pursued that passion... if I had not pursued that one... Lately I have realized that I am not content with the limited nature of the universe. Perhaps I am being selfish. How does that old saying go... Give some someone an inch and they will take a mile… I do not deny that when life’s lots were parceled I got much more than an inch out of the deal, and I think I have lead an surprisingly fulfilling existence so far. In fact all-in-all I would rate my brief stint on this planet fairly favorably. But what is it all? If life is a beach.. I have se...

Recently several individuals made fairly random appearances in my life. They were pleasant surprises. If you haven't seen someone dear in a while and you suddenly find yourself face to face with them, it is kind of like looking at a freeze frame of yourself at the zenith of your time together. Old memories come flooding back. Old jokes. Old feelings. It is very easy to feel like you can just continue the last conversation you had. But then you take a step back and realize the years between you. To comprehend all that has happened during that time you did not see them... and to wonder how all of that has changed who you both are. It is a temporal slap in the face. Sometimes it smarts. I had a similar experience when I was trying to update my webpage. Dredging up old pictures. Finding new ones. Contemplating where various individuals are after your brief interlude. Your short dance on the floor of the restaurant at the end of the galaxy. "The shows almost over fo...