Life, the Universe, and Everything

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...

Thanksgiving... the holiday of sanctioned gluttony, and certainly one of my favorites. Primarily because I get off of school, and secondly, because I get to eat cranberry sauce. I have a fondness for cranberry sauce. There is something alluring about the shape of a mound of cranberry sauce right out of the can. Especially if it has managed to retain the shape of its container. The subtle ridges of that burgundy solid... there is something hypnotic about it's gyrations that are reminiscent of some sort of bizarre dance. It seems almost happy to be eaten. Perhaps it is due to the fact that it is only commonly eaten two times a year. I can only speculate that it gets lonely on the grocers shelves, next to the canned yams and pumpkin pie fillings. You ask yourself: what on earth is she talking about? She must not have eaten breakfast yet. And this is true, but if I could have, I would have a heaping bowl of cranberry sauce.

Yeah, I know I have been slacking. Forgive me readers, for I have sinned- It has been two weeks since my last confession (or rant about life, the universe, and everything). It is very easy to get caught up in the subtleties of everyday life. Often I do not even notice that I am doing it. One day I shake my head, rub I my eyes, and it is a month later. I guess that is what growing older is about. The daily grind. But I suppose it is all to some end. I was told by my advisor last week to start thinking about filling out an application for graduation. Now I have been at this position before at my last school, but this time it seems to mean a little more. To finally be done jumping through hoops. The possibility of holding that seemingly insignificant piece of paper in my hands... it is nice to see the light at the end of the tunnel. But that is still only a distant promise. I must concentrate on the matters at hand. I have been particularly bad as of late maintaining correspondence with t...

And boy am I pumped. You should be too, as that means I will only rant and rave about politics for one or two more blog entries... yeah! Have you been working out lately? I have. My fingers are soar from flexing my butterfly ballot punching muscles. With this new exercise regiment, I will have the dirty deed done with in no time. After that workout, I am going to cool off by doing homework and waiting to see if the rest of the country feels the same way I do. I might even booze it up to make the election results more tolerable. I am very concerned about the presidential facet of the thing. The whole local scene should interest me more, but I am unnaturally preoccupied with the events that will transpire over the next 72 hours. Besides, I live in Kansas, so my vote on the whole will be, in all likelihood- sadly ineffective. The next 72 hour could decide so many very important issues: where we are going with this whole Iraq scenario, the whole supreme court justice balance, women’s right...

So Monday I did the whole birthday thing. The day sucked for the most part, mostly because of the whole Monday aspect. I did the school thing, bombed a test or two, and then went to work. Work was work. I admit, working at a brewery, I am not necessarily subjected to much of the same drudgery as those who have office jobs, but I can zone out despite the environment. I did have people pop into the lab periodically, exclaiming "Happy Birthday Bianca!" That was nice. I attributed it to the fact that Boulevard publishes in internal monthly newsletter, and in that newsletter, they have a "Don't forget to say Happy Birthday to..." column. Never-the-less, I was pleased to note that so many people remembered it from the paper. My bosses boss ducked his head into the lab about half way through my shift, and cheerily exclaimed, "Hey Bianca.... Happy Birthday!" I said something to the effect of "Thanks Steven, I am flattered you remembered." "How C...

I am not the same 23 year old that I was yesterday. Birthdays that fall on mondays should always default to Saturdays. Today I have one final today, a quiz, and a paper to rewrite. Happy birthday indeed. It's ok though, as I celebrated over the weekend. Granted, Saturday did not begin with a great start. I awoke to a bathroom sink that appeared to be 3/4 filled with the previous eve's regurgitated alcohol and food detritus. A friend of mine had apparently been unable to make it to the proper disposal basin, and as such, I was faced with a mess to be reckoned with. So, I skipped out for a few hours in hopes that the mess would remedy itself by the time I got back. Luckily, given four hours, it did. I then had a very pleasant lunch at Applebee’s, followed by luxuriously languid afternoon. I was then treated by my paramour to a lovely and unduly expensive meal at a French restaurant, followed by a late night showing of Shawn of the Dead . All in all, I would consider it the perfe...

Please contain your excitement. Yeah, politics as of late have proven to be particularly disappointing. I have watched all of the debates thus far, and have come to realize that they are just a farce. I don't know the exact statistics, but I know that a sizable portion of the voting population do not even watch the things, they just vote for whatever party mommy and daddy spoon fed to them when they were little. For those that do watch the debates, and do not have a predisposition for one candidate or another- the so called "undecided voter" (which I am not completely sure exists at all), the debates are essentially useless. Sure they give you an idea of where the candidates stand on some issues, but most of the time when they are presented with a question on policy or morality; they fail to answer it at all. Instead, the candidates resort to using red herrings to divert the short attention span of the American public to some topic of policy that they actually are comfort...

It's kind of funny. I was sitting in my speech class listening to a guy names Raul speaking about the fact that today is his birthday. After class I casually inquired as to how old he was. He replied that he is 24. I made an offhand remark, something to the effect of "Man, that's old," and then it dawned on me that I am about to turn 24 in a few days. I guess the older you get, the less distinct the signposts are. I mean at 5 you are excited that you finally get to stop meandering aimlessly around the house, getting high on pixie sticks, and go to school. At 13, you are officially a teenager, and a new age of troublemaking begins. You start again with the pixie sticks. At 16 you get your drivers license. 18 you can vote. And then there is the magical age of 21, where drinking alcohol suddenly becomes legal (which I suppose can take some of the fun out of the thing). What is there left after that? I guess my insurance premiums will go down at 25, but that is not terrib...