hvindenm

I had my wisdom teeth removed on Friday.  I thought it might be a more terrible experience than it was, but it has been easy.  I didn't think I needed pain medicine yesterday, but I took it anyways, just in case.  I didn't take any today, though I did take my antibiotics as well as my anti-swelling medicine. 

My jaw is slightly sore and swollen on the left side, and I can't open my mouth all the way.  I ate a piece of salmon as my first solid food in a few days.  I have been eating fruit juices, pudding, and stuffing.  It is strange feeling the stitches in my mouth. 

This was the first time I've been under the influlence of any kind of anesthetic.  I sat in the dentist's chair, and the dentist put a tiny drop of an analgesic under my skin.  Then, he put an IV in.  I wonder if the anesthetic -drop was necessary, consdering how much I enjoy having needles put in me, but I've never had an IV put in, so maybe this is part of the normal experience.  The dentist put 5 syringes-worth of fluid in me; at the end of the series, I asked him why he didn't use a bigger CC syringe (seems more efficient), and he said each of the syringes contained a different kind of medicine.  Alright.  I started to feel a little light headed so I laid my head back to rest on the chair.  All the rest is a blur after that.  I vaguely remember some sort of conversation about shivering after recovering from anesthesia.  I remember science lover holding my hand.  I remember stopping at the pharmacy.  I remember science lover telling me I'd already told him something twice before, and that short term memory loss was a normal part of the process.  I vaguely remember walking to my apartment.  My complete memories returned after getting to my apartment.  I found a receit for gas with my medicine, so I wonder if we stopped for gas after the procedure.   

The whole experience has been very easy, and it only cost me $300 (it cost my insurance quite a bit more).  Not too bad to get rid of hallitosis and the problem of biting the inside of my cheek with my wisdom teeth.
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I came across a strange sight this morning.  I found a nearly dead chipmonk on my floor.  I'm not sure how it got there, whether sama brought it in sometime yesterday when I had the door open, or if it somehow came in through another unfortunate path.  At first, I thought the creature was dead.  I picked it up and felt a slighth muscle twitch in my hands.  The poor creature was still alive.  Uff.   I gave it to Sama -- he had no interest in the chipmonk.  There was a big gash in the chipmonk's undersection, including its thigh.  It was probably in pain, and would not heal on its own.  What to do?  I decided the responsible thing would be to put the animal out of its misery.  I thought letting it slowly die outside would be cruel.  Had I a BB gun, I would have shot it.

Instead, I drowned the creature in a bowl of warm water.  It seemed to hold its breath a long time.  It sat in the water for what seemed like forever, not moving at all.  Then is started to twich, every so lightly.  Probably 3-4 minutes passed until it finally stopped twitching......when it died, it stretched its back legs and crossed its front legs in front of its body.  Maybe I should have tried to break its spine, but I didn't know how similar it would be to killing a mouse.  I think I did the right thing.  Who knows how long it sat underneath my sewing table, suffering.

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I tried making Laurel leaves for a hood, but I'm only semi-pleased with the results.  I might try to do some subtle embroidery, instead. 

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I finished Memoires of a Geisha today.  It was a really good book. 

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I want to get a new cell phone.  I don't want an i-phone.  Any advice for a phone with GPS, one that I can have access to the internetz and e-mail.  A blackberry, maybe? 

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1. What's the first thing you wash in the shower?
My breasts.

2. What color is your favorite hoodie?
Blue -a  medieval hood.

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
Yes.

4. Do you plan outfits?
Yes.

5. How are you feeling RIGHT now?
Lethargic.

6. What’s the closest thing to you that's red?
Part of a square on my crazy quilt.

7. Tell me about the last dream you remember having.
I have so many, but none recently come to mind.

8. Did you meet anybody new today?
Nope.  I am recouperating from having my wisdom teeth pulled.

9. What are you craving right now?
Snuggling.

10. Do you floss daily?
Twice a day.

11. What comes to mind when I say cabbage?
Cole slaw.

12. Are you emotional?
Yes, and I try to suppress it.

13. Have you ever counted to 1000?
Yes with the aid of a colony counter.

14. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it?
Lick it.

15. Do you like your hair?
Yes.

16. Do you like yourself?
Most of the time.

17. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush?
No.

18. What are you listening to right now?
The Return of the King

19. Are your parents strict?
No.

20. Would you go skydiving?
No.

21. Do you like cottage cheese?
Nummy.  Love it.  I get the low calorie stuff.  A great diet food. High protein, high calcium.

22. Have you ever met a celebrity?
Sort of, if you consider the calligapher for LOTR a celebrity.

23. Do you rent movies often?
No.

24. Is there anything sparkly in the room you're in?
No.  Unless polished marble is sparkly, then yes.

25. How many countries have you visited?
Many.  Canada, France, Nice, Italy, the Neatherlands, Japan. 

26. Have you made a prank phone call?
When I was a child.

27. Ever been on a train?
Yes.

28. Brown or white eggs?
Free range farmers market eggs.

29. Do you have a cell phone?
Yes.

30. Do you use chap stick?
All the time.

31. Do you own a gun?
Yes. 

32. Can you use chop sticks?
Absolutely.

33. Who are you going to be with tonight?
I'm going to be alone, like every night.  Sigh.

34. Are you too forgiving?
Yes.  But once I give something up, I can give it up forever.

35. Ever been in love?
Yes.  I wish it didn't happen.

36. What is your best friend(s) doing tomorrow?
Vacation, work, graduate school.

37. Ever have a cream puff?
Yes.

38. Last time you cried?
At my Laureling ceremony.  I cried like a little, little baby.

39. What was the last question you asked?
"Sama, where are you?  Sama, Sama, Sama?"

40. Favorite time of the year?
Spring.

41. Do you have any tattoos?
Nope, but I have many piercings.

42. Are you sarcastic?
I try not to be.  I never have the right tone.

43. Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect?
Yes.

44. Ever walked into a wall?
No.

45. Favorite color?
Green.

46. Have you ever slapped someone?
No.

47. Is your hair curly?
Straight.

48. What was the last CD you bought?
Something from Wolgemut.

49. Do looks matter?
For some things, yes.  Not always.

50. Could you ever forgive a cheater?
Cheating is pretty bad.  It would always be in th back of my mind.  I much prefer honesty.

51. Is your phone bill sky high?
No.

52. Do you like your life right now?
Yes. I miss my family and friends, terribly. 

53. Do you sleep with the TV on?
No.  I hardly ever watch TV.

54. Can you handle the truth?
Yes.

55. Do you have good vision?
No.

58. The last person you held hands with?
My science lover.

59. What are you wearing?
Grey sweat pants, green sweater, and my bathrobe, with wool stockings.  I need to feel comfy.

60. What is your favorite animal?
Kittehs!

61. Where was your profile picture taken?
My profile pick on FB was taking on my brother's farm.

62. Can you hula hoop?
Not to save my life.

63. Do you have a job?
Yes.

64. What was the most recent thing you bought?
$90 worth of tea.  I like tea. 

65. Have you ever crawled through a window?
Yes.

I am drunk from asparagus. Yum!


http://www.pubmedcentral.nih.gov/articlerender.fcgi?tool=pubmed&pubmedid=7448566

Can't wait to pee!

about the go-to-sleep-and-never-wake-up berries.  I wish this would stop running throug my mind.

Identify a way to ablate the fear response in members of your army.    Okay, this isn't too terribly new, in that I saw a video of mice attempting to attack a cat about a year or so ago (with this same principal)........ but it's still fun.

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10 years ago, intense fear and stress resulted in me scarfing down anything in site.  Now, I have discovered that intense fear and anxiety kills my appetite.  My stomach hurts today, from worry. 

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I will most likely be defending my dissertation in one months time.  Don't expect to see/hear/read much of/from me.   Godz, that's an ungly way to write that idea. 

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When I write the word "pseudogenization," I can't help but think of the word "pseudogenitalization."  I don't think this is a word, but I think it, nonetheless.  I know my fellow grad students will be thinking this when I give my defense. 

your freedom to associate?

So, I'm all about there being more jobs for scientists.  Yay jobs!   But this job isn't quite what I had in mind.  It seems as if government -- people -- want a blank check signed with the sum "This product is safe."  That's..... impossible to define.  Even "This product is mostly safe" .... provides a lot less comfort and has little meaning, too.   

I guess I do want the biotech industry to have human safety (and environmental safety) in mind when developing new transgenic plants............... but........ we weren't asking this of selective breeders (much more favorably-perceived form of biotechnology) 100 years ago, and the world didn't become fracked (well, it did, but more so because of over-consupmption and poor management of natural resources) from plant biotechnology, and they didn't produce ice-nine (at least none that they've released into the environment). 

I guess it's a job.  And yay for more jobs!  But.........I wish they could spend their time developing products, instead of finding creative ways to work through government regulations. 

I feel guilty.  About killing ants.  It's kinda silly -- since I know they don't feel pain-pain, like humans, or birds, or dogs.  But, it still bothers me.  And it sorta bothers me that this is slightly irrational, but at the same time, these are my feelings and that makes them okay.  And that's probably an irrational statement.  But I don't care.

Okay, so I have an ant problem.  Last fall, I successfully masacred the ant population in my kitchen using chemical warfare. I do have issues with ants in my sugar.  It's not pleasant, and sugar should be pleasant.  Creatures that invade my sugar must die.  So, the ants have stayed out of the kitchen since chemical warfare ensued (probably not by their choice), but instead, the ants decided to take up residence in my bathroom.  I could live with that -- it seemed like a fair compromise.  Stay out of my kitchen and you will live.  I feel bad about killing them.  I don't know why.  They're ants, and I don't have a problem eating bugs of the sea....... so killing an ant shouldn't be a problem.  But I still feel guilty.  Why?   I think it's the purposeless of it.  It's the purposeless act of snuffing out the life of an animal, using my own brute force, for no reason save for my irrational dislike of ants in my bathroom. 

Well, my SCA lover told me that I should kill the ants in my bathroom.  They are scouts seeking bigger and better food and water sources, and once they hit paydirt, more and more will come.  Killing ants is not my favorite activity.  I can handle a few ants, but 100s crawling around in my bathroom?  I don't like it.  So, tonight, I swalloed my reservations and squished an ant with my thumb -- except I totally missed the mark. 

I lifted my thumb, expecting to see a masacred ant corpse.... and there was something black and smudged there.  I looked down at the counter, and wondered at the strange creature that was walking around.  I thought, this must be some strange baby spider.  Nope -- 6 legs.  Doesn't look like an ant -- no abdomen.  Then it hit me -- I had separated the hind section of this creature from its foresection.  Uff.  A botched kill.  Now, I must go through the second torturous act of attempting to kill this pathetic, maimed creature. 

Watching that maimed, confused, creature struggle.... hit close to home.  I'm experiencing a dose of futile dispair in my life, at the moment.  I must complete what I've started.

I'm going to go back to impersonal killing.  It seems to work much better for me.  I've had a fascination with poisons since I was a little girl, anyways.  Might as well play to my strengths.

Graduate school is a soul-sucking endeavor.

I have a search agent report all newly published papers that have certain terms.... "mycoplasma"  --  "size variation" -- "mycoides."  Sometimes, strange papers come to my attention. 

This title amused me:
Anal Intercourse Among Young Heterosexuals in Three Sexually Transmitted Disease Clinics in the United States.

Gorbach PM, Manhart LE, Hess KL, Stoner BP, Martin DH, Holmes KK.

From reading the title, it makes it sound as if the paper was about people who have anal sex in STD clinics.  The final statement in the abstract and the results section don't seem well-connected.     

If I were to write a moralistic story about a female geneticist, the name of the genetcist would be DeAnne Hay. 

This seemed more profound, this morning, when the thought occured to me. 

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I attended Calontir's Jubilee celebration this weekend.  It was a great event.  The scribes guild sponsored a bookmark competition, with vellum distributed by Mistress Alethea and me.  I think that's the correct way to write that phrase........we had 9 bookmarks turned.  I wish there had been more, but I was still pleased with the quality and creativity of the finished bookmarks.  

I was weepy throughout the event. I've been a little stressed, with interview jitters and a feeling that I can't write my dissertation fast enough.... but it's sinking in that if I don't find a job in Calontir, soon, my days in Calontir are numbered.  I've painted my last scroll for Calontir.  I've attended my last feast.  This isn't final yet.  I may find a job in St. Louis, KC, Omaha, or Des Moines.........but the upper midwest has been more bountiful regarding the job hunt, so far.   I will be okay with moving, because I will be happy be able to afford food and shelter, but I still wish I wouldn't have to move so far away.  Luckily, I'm sure I'll still travel.  Within the past three months, I've traveled to events in three Kingdoms.  :P   At least I know I'll see my friends again.   

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I'm studying for interviews. 

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I baked a cherry pie this weekend.  It was devine.   That's an understatement.   By the time I factor in the cost of the cherries (tres cher!), the ingredients for the crust, and my time, it's probably cheaper to buy a commercially prepared pie.  Perhaps the love that went into the pie adds a little extra flavor that is worth the extra expense. 

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I suck at comforting people in mourning.  :( :( :( 

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The dictionary's definition of "toothsome" is broader than I realized.  I was aware that "toothsome" refers to delicious food, but I didn't realize it also had sexual connotations, i.e. "that chick is a toothsome blonde."  Food fetishists,  take note. 

I've been feeling a bit strange as of late.   Content.  Calm.  Resolved.  Determined.  Happy. 

I am the poorest I've been in.... 8 months?  Since Shaun and I broke up -- since I've taken on the burden of paying to live in a house that's much too big for me.  The house, taxes, a not-so-well-thought-out loan, and a few unforeseen expenses have put a crunch in my coffers. I've splurged on travel.   Does this bother me?  Shockingly, no.  I can prostitute my body to science to make some extra cash......and I'm not shy about doing temp labor, once the grad school funding ends. I have friends who are fighting each other to take me in during a potential extended job search.    I have friends who love me, who encourage me, who will support me when I need help.  I feel loved.  And I'm not afraid to be more poor than I am now (though I will attempt to avoid being homeless-style poor). 

I'm not afraid of my job search.  If I need to, I'll crawl back to academia to do a post doc.  But I don't think this will happen. 

Sometimes I wonder why I chose to pursue a career in science.  I think my persuit of science stems from i) a naieve sense of curiosity about nature, about bacteria, about understanding how life works, and ii) a desire to solve practical problems (design vaccines, diagnostic tests, desire to control bacterial infections, to manipulate life and use bacteria for good).  Still, all of this requires a lot of effort.  I would be just as happy working in a flower shop, working in a bakery, or working on a farm.  I would be happy living on a low salary, if my basic life needs were being met.  It doesn't take much for me to live.  I don't *need* to have a career in science to be happy.  I don't *need* to make a lot of money to be happy.   

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I am writing my dissertation.  I thought this would scare the crap out of me.  It doesn't.  I'm just writing about what I've done in the lab for the past six years.  I think I've got that figured out, shockingly.  It's a lot easier than I thought it would be.  I just need to do it.  I just need to stick with it.  Persistance equals pages. Much of my writing has a very "matter of fact" feel to it.  It feels good to set it to page. Each sentence has a sense of finality to it.  It's one less sentence that needs to be extracted - developed - expressed.  I want to tell people what I'm writing -- how much I've accomplished.  I want to torture my friends with page by page details.   I know people will not care much about this work, but I did it, and I'll set it to page. 

By Wednesday of next week, I will have written about all of the contingency loci ........ there is just a teensy bit more sequence to generate / identify........ which I will pursue starting on Monday. 

Two of my committee members will hardly read the dissertation (the two Department chairs).  The other two will definitely read it, and give feedback.  Mick will be displeased with it, but that is the nature of the beast.   I've given him six years of disappointment, and I am comfortable with what his response will be.  It is predictable, and I appreciate that.   This doesn't bother me.  I'm not writing my dissertation for them.  I'm writing it for me.    I trhink I can finish it before May.

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The much-raved-about hot and sour soup from Chinese Wok Express off Broadway ....... tastes like butt.  Don't eat it.  Don't go there.  Yuck!  

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 I have bruises on my body in unexpected places.  I have one on my shin from running into Attila's free weights.  There is a beautiful one on my right hand.  Another is on my back of my left calf.  I wonder how I got them. 

I recently dined at Korma Sutra, an Indian restaurant in Kansas City.  I was *stunned* at the awesomeness of this restaurant. 

To start, we were given papad and three different chuttneys to nibble on while we made our menu selections.  I chose the house special Korma Sutra Korma.  And then, unexpectedly, this happened:

I noticed the water was scented with limes.  Yay!
Our server came out with a generous glass of mango lassi, with two straws.  I said, "I'm sorry, we didn't order this."  She said, "it's on the house."  (Wow, and yummy!)   Another man came out and gave me some sort of meatball on a stick.  I gave my meatball to Attila, but I appreciated the gesture.   Our meal came, and the portions were generous, the food was well presented (garnished and in pretty bowls), and it was damned tasty.  Next, we were each given a bowl of yummy, creamy, indian rice pudding.  How could it get any better?  We were given one of the goey balls of fried indian goodness in syrup.  Then we were given a piece of frozen mango ice cream on a stick.  Then we were each given a sipping cup of chai tea (very delicately flavored with cardamom).  *swoons*

And then we were given a washing bowl with warm waters to clean our fingers.  

I felt treated like a queen. :)    My Korma was $12, and the naan was $2.   *happiness*

So, if you are in the Kansas City area and wish to be well-treated, visit Korma Sutra.  Enjoying good food is a sensual, pleasurable part of life.... and like its namesake, this restaurant embodies that spirit. 

I've applied for clinical microbiologist position with a company in Madsion, Wisconsin.  I have a phone interview scheduled.

A picture on their "interview process" webpage amused me:  a man is in fear of being consumed by a dinosaur-art sculpture.   

The webpage developer has a sense of humor.  :p 

I do think it is interesting and useful to study differences between males and females of the human species. 

This quote, however, higlights sexist and dangerous language in this persuit:

"Females aren't males and it's really important to understand the differences," Waters says. "It is important to recognize that the female brain acts differently. It may be abstract now, because it's a basic science question, but once we understand hormones in a healthy brain we can go on to understand what changes when the brain is diseased or needs to be treated with drugs."

This sort of language, specifically, "it is important to recognize that the female brain acts differently," perpetuate the idea that the male brain is the norm -- to be female is abnormal.  It harkens back to the days when women were considered substandard-humans, mal-formed males.    People conducting such research should be more careful in their word-choices so they avoid appearing (or being) sexist. 

Grrr....
 

I have been filled with an urge to nest.  I want to be in a place, all my own.  Secure, secluded, warm, and snuggly.   My fantasy nest is inspired by Walden -- though I would like my cabin to have a few modern amenities. 

I would be out in my patch of woods, within a 1-2 hour walk from town.  I would want the whole building to be small.  Just big enough for me, and a guest, and two kittehs.  My house would be simply constructed, with wooden beams and rafters on the inside.  I would have hand-forged iron hooks and findings all throughout the house.  The main floor would be one room, save for the toilet area.  I think I'd want a deep Japanese bath-tub / shower combo, with the tub recessed into the ground.   The toilet would be of the composting variety.  I'd have my own sewer (is there such a thing as a composting sink?), and would also have my own well water.  The house would have a wood-burning stove in one end for heat, and I'd have a wood-burning stove-for cooking on the other side in a very small kitchen area (with a natural stone countertop -- all once piece).  Alternatively, I'd have a pimped out gas range.     I'd probably have a tile floor -- one that looks like medieval stone -- and a hidden-away hot-water-on-demand water heater, so I'd get radiant heat through the floor (Mmmm....warm).  Alternatively, I could do the whole water-heated-on-the-roof sort of system (though on non-sunny days, this would be problematic... hello cold showers at Pennsic, yuck).  I'd have electrical outlets, but they would be cleverly hidden.  I'd try to do some sort of solar energy conversion to electricity. 

I would have a medieval bed and a medieval, 15th century trestle table.  I would have it furnished very simply.  I don't think I'd have a couch.  No TV.  Some persian carpets on the floor. 

I'd have a small loft for a guest bed / which would serve primarily as a library / office.

And it would have the internetz.

I would have a root cellar and a huge garden.  I'd keep bees, chickens, and geese, and I might eventually build a small barn.  I'd have a dog, too, if only to fend off other dogs who might try to harm my birds. 

*fantasy*

I've been given the go-ahead to write.  I have 10 weeks to write, write, write. 

See, I'm even writing now! 

godz -- I'm tired.

Tomorrow, I hold the committee meeting that will end all other committee meetings.  At least I hope so.  I'm terribly, terribly nervous.  :(

I am bribing my committee with really expensive mango-orange juice.  Jana, bless her heart, is brewing coffee. 

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A group of scary dudes hooted and called at me in the grocery store about an hour ago.  Strange, because I think I must look like a zombie.  I can't help but think of it as a violent act.  It's such an aggressive thing to do.  I don't know quite how to respond to this (not that it happens that often to me).  If I walk away, and pretend to not notice / hear, I feel as if I am appearing cowardly.  I let them win.  And I don't like that.  After I calmed my nerves (10 seconds later), I grabbed my OJ, turned, and gave my best please-are-you-really-behaving-like-a-group-of-15-year-old-boys look of scorn.  

In response, one of the dudes flashed me his strange set of gold teeth.  

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I spoke to my father, and he was depressed over taxes.  He is paying about $6000 more than he usually pays in, due to mismanagement of farm loopholes. So, we moped together about taxes.   He suggested that, in order to avoid giving the goverment money, I should have 4-5 children, so I can claim them as dependants.  I'm curious to determine which is more lucrative: having children, but getting lots of tax deductions, or not having children, and having to pay more in taxes.  :P    

I think he mostly, not-so-secretly, wants to have some grand kids.  

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I asked my father, tonight, if his children were planned.  His response, "no."  "Yes."   "I'm not sure."   

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I need a good cry, but I don't have a good reason to cry.
 
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Why can't I become motivated to paint?