Friday Funny: F**k you and your f**cking cheeseburger

I don't know if I've mentioned this before or not, but I am from Texas. Although I don't share many of the opinions and views expressed by the inhabitants of my home state, I do love the Texas fast food burger joint know as Whataburger (when I was little I thought it was water burger). Like any establishment open 24h, drunk idiots tend to congregate at Whataburger just about the time the bars close down, my drunk ass included. I like it in particular because they start serving their breakfast menu at 11:00 p.m. and nothing prevents a hangover like a bacon and egg taquito or two.

Anyway. While illustrating one of the things I loathe most (stupid, redneck, white dudes) it also features something I love and rarely get to witness; a total douche nozzle getting exactly what they deserve followed by public mocking on YouTube.

I know it's kind of long, but I suggest hanging in until the end. It's worth it. Enjoy

In the spirit of giving...

I firmly believe that change is good. While I have already experienced quite a few changes in my life this year, I thought I needed at least one more. In this case, my change translates into a hefty donation to Locks of Love.

In case it's not obvious, I have a lot of hair, both in thickness and length, so this should go a long way toward making a complete wig for someone.

End result. (Sorry, for the blurry pic, but the one that is sharp was taken from the front and not only does posting that pic go against remaining anonymous, but it's also an ugly picture.)

Shouldn't this make me exempt from any further participation in the holiday season?

When pedestrians scare me

Recently, I encountered an individual who I thought seemed like your average everyday pedestrian, although dressed a little on the warm side. About 3o seconds later, I was worried I was going to end up a head line on the evening news: Mental health patient escapes from hospital, kills woman sitting at red light.

Here is how it went down:

I pulled up to a stoplight to make a right turn. While waiting for a break in the traffic, I notice a man standing on the corner (to the left) at the crosswalk. He is wearing jeans and a grey hoodie with the hood up. This strikes me as odd because it's still really warm here...way too warm for a sweat shirt. As he crosses the street and passes directly in front of my car, I notice his accessories: gardening gloves (that look fresh from the package) and shiny black dress shoes.

In addition to the unique ensemble, this guy is walking very slow, eyes looking straight ahead and his posture is very rigid. Just when I think things are getting kinda creepy, he kneels down, lowers his face to the ground and proceeds to lick the freaking sidewalk. At this point things are officially weird and gross. After he finishes, he calmly gets up, turns around and heads back across the street (to where he started). I assume he is going to repeat the process and I wonder how many times before he decides to pull out a gun and shoot everyone at the intersection (Yes, I watch a lot of bizarre TV). I am ready to get the hell out of there. Luckily, there was a break in traffic and I made my right hand turn.

I often wonder who that guy was, how he chose his outfit, where he was going and how long it took him to get there.

A little blog roll help, please.

I've noticed a few of the blogs I frequent are moving over to lab spaces, etc. In addition, I've seriously neglected my own blog roll. I really want to get everything updated and I don't want to miss anyone, so I am hoping for a little help from the blogosphere. So, if the following statements describe you, please me a shout in the comments section, I would really appreciate it:

1. You've changed locations.

2. You've included me on your blog roll and are not already on my blog roll.

3. You would like to me to include your blog on my blog roll.

Thanks in advance.

Also, if you fall into category 2, my apologies and I'll try not to let it happen again.

MXX

What the hell?!?

If I were going to smuggle a living creature through airport security and onto a plane, I would NOT consider inside the clothes I was wearing a viable option. Apparently, this guy thought it was an excellent place to hide 18, yes 18, Titi monkeys. The monkeys, which are quite small, were inside bags or socks. According to the story, the man was initially going to store them in his luggage, but he was worried that the x-ray machines would harm them.

First of all, I can't imagine that someone would believe that this was a good plan for smuggling endangered monkeys into another country. I would be worried that, among other things, they would make noise, go to the bathroom or get free during the flight. Two of them died during the trip, which makes me assume they were quite restricted. Of course, I don't know how the two monkeys met their end, so I suppose that I can't rule out natural causes.

I always wonder about people who participate in this kind of activity. Why would they assume they wouldn't get caught? Are they crazy? Insanely optimistic? Found success previously? Extremely passionate about ensuring that all citizens of the world get a chance to own a tiny endangered monkey?

Now I need a navigation system

There is no way my brain can come up with a coherent blog post, so I present you with the following video. As many of you know, I loves me some Star Wars and that love is persuading me to make a purchase that I do not need. Plus, this video is fracking funny.

Aren't you forgetting something?

When I started this blog, I intended to write about (1) general lab life, (2) my experiences at different stages of my career and (3) microbiology. I tend to write the most about general lab life, although admittedly, this area needs improvement. I'm only on my second career stage, but I do try and post about things that I think are relevant. Again, I can certainly do a better job. However, the category that is most commonly overlooked is microbiology, which is a shame since the title of this blog contains the word Microbiologist. Sometimes I feel as if the word itself is taunting me, reminding me of my failure to post on the topic.

So, I've decided to implement "Microbe Monday" where I will post about something microbiology related on, yep, you guessed it, Mondays. I can't promise I will post every single Monday, but I am going to try and post on a regular basis. My ideas about this new feature are pretty vague. I know I don't want the posts to sound like lectures or something you would find on a Microbiology 101 website. However, I don't want them to be so specific that only a microbiologist would be interested or able to read them. I plan on starting next week, so I better at least have an idea about what I want to write by then.

Things...

Although my work schedule this week was pretty darn relaxed, thanks to the poorest planning possible, my after work schedule was busy, busy, busy. There just wasn't ample time to post. However, I thought I would hammer out this brief post that is a hodge podge of things I considered writing about.

The following are things that I

don't give a rats ass about, yet keep seeing in the media:

• Sarah Palin. Seriously people, why is this woman still discussed. I don't want to read about or listen to anything she says, whether I agree with it or not.
• Tiger Woods. I am not his wife, therefore his extramarital affairs do not hold any bearing on my life. I don't need an apology from him and he didn't let me down. He did let his wife and children down and that is who he should apologize to. The only people that owe me an apology are the news media, for irritating me with the Tiger Woods coverage.
• The attire of snowboarders. Earlier this week I read an article about a snowboarder, Nate Holland, who was whining about other snow boarders wearing tight pants. Apparently, he feels this "betrays the anti-establishment culture that birthed snowboarding" and blah, blah, blah, wah, wah, wah. First of all, you are competing as part of a team sponsored by three huge American companies while wearing faux jeans. Puh-lease. Get over yourself. I thought that was pretty random until today when I read an article about how Japan is all in an uproar about how a Japanese snow boarder appeared "disheveled." Good thing he didn't arrive doing something actually bad like, abusing a child.

don't understand:

• gay republicans.
• why anyone thought it was a good idea to remake We are the world? I am all for donating money to help Haiti. However, I don't need to get anything in return, especially not some awful song that makes my ears bleed. That remake, like most remakes, sucks some serious ass.

I am happy about:

• In less than 10 weeks (hopefully) I won't be pregnant. I do not understand women who enjoy this part. It's uncomfortable, it's gross and it drags on forever.
• A good friend of my found gainful employment after and exhausting search in a shitty economy. Congratulations again!!
• My primers arrived today.

When a vacuum-sealed bag might be better than Jesus

Some woman got busted at the U.S./Mexico border with 30 lbs. of weed stuffed inside paintings of Jesus. Apparently, the drug dog was not fooled.

One person’s delicacy is another person’s projectile vomit-inducer

I'm talking about natto. I wish I could tell you that I've tasted natto, but my experience with this food merely extends to looking at it, smelling it and picking it up with a pair of chopsticks. The natto never actually made it into my mouth, mostly due to the foul smell, but also because it looks like soy beans immersed in snot.

So WTF is natto, you ask? Natto is a fermented soybean product, enjoyed in Japan. In short, whole soybeans are cooked and then fermented with Bacillus subtilis (natto) until the beans are covered in that viscous, goo. When you lift the soybeans up with your eating utensil of choice, long, stretchy, mucoid tendrils maintain contact with the dish.* The viscous, sticky material is mainly composed of gamma-polyglutamic acid, a polymer composed of D- and L-glutamic acid. In less-scientific terms, the snotty mess is B. subtilis capsule. Yum.

I know I sound like a total puss for not actually tasting this, ahem, food. It's not like I was going to die from consuming the substance. Maybe just some intense gagging or projectile vomiting.

I've spent a lifetime overcoming food aversions. As a child I assumed that if it looked gross and it smelled gross, then it was gross. This hypothesis was tested in triplicate and as far as I was concerned, a scientific theory. The few times I did re-test the Theory of Looks Gross, Is Gross, it was boldly reinforced. I'm thinking specifically of the time I tried Vegemite during a trip to New Zealand. NEVER AGAIN!

It's only within the last four or five years that I've really ventured out in my food choices. I will typically try something at least once, and usually like it. I don't know what changed, but I am glad that it did, otherwise I would not know the goodness of sushi.

So....has anyone actually tried natto?

*I've been told that longer threads indicate better quality natto.

I want to believe

Seriously, this totally looks like something from the X-files.

Snow, sleet and pink gloves

As I drove myself into work today I witnessed an event that rarely occurs in my home city; rain, sleet and snow all coming down simultaneously. In addition, my umbrella was safely tucked away in my office, far across the parking lot from where I exited my car.

In other news, me and eight other science-types made comments about a friends Facebook status relating her recent and exciting acquisition of pink latex gloves. One of the final comments, summed the whole exchange up quite nicely. It read, "It's kinda sad what scientists get excited about."

I found this funny and true.

Attack of the Rash (and hormones)

I've decided I'd rather endure pain than itch. At least the drugs for pain work. All the crap on the market for itching is complete bullshit.

Starting Sunday around 5:00pm until 5:00am, I watched as my entire body, from the neck down, was taken over by the rash from hell. At first, I blamed the new couch. We just purchased a new couch and I've heard reports that bed bugs are on the rise, so this was what I secretly feared as I lounged on the couch Sunday, itching like crazy. At first it was just my back, but then I started itching on the back of my legs. I thought maybe this was all in my mind, since thinking about the couch being infested with bugs, could surely result in some psychosomatic itching.

I decided a shower was the answer. And it was, kinda. After getting undressed, I glanced at the itchy places in the mirror and saw that my back and the back of my legs were red, as if I had a sun burn, and were covered in giant whelps that were anywhere from 3 to 5 inches in diameter.

Still not completely convinced that the couch was not to blame, I decided to lay in bed and watch TV. I was clean and covered in anti-itching cream. I felt pretty sure things were under control until my stomach and the front of my legs started itching. I got up, looked in the mirror and sure enough, they were red and the gigantic, weird hive-looking patches were starting to form. I smeared some more crap on the new places and got back in bed. This became an hourly ritual that I repeated until about 5:00am when the rash made it all the way to the palms of my hands and the soles of my feat. Needless to say, it sucked ass. On the plus side, as new rash formed, the older parts of the rash went away. I figured it was over, until about 7:30 when the tell-tale itching started back up again on my back. At this point I decided I needed to seek medical help because I was pretty sure I couldn't endure another round.

Turns out it's hormones. FUCKING HORMONES.

I spent Monday and Tuesday taking a shit-ton of anti-histamines, lapsing in and out of consciousness and itchiness. Yesterday was my first anti-histamine-free day. The rash thing started up again around 8:00pm, but it wasn't nearly as bad as on Monday. Thank goodness. If I experience that shit again any time in the near future, I will probably either (a) lose my fucking mind, or (b) overdose on anti-histamines or (c) both.

Anyway, I did learn something; There are no good drugs (oral or topical) for itching.

Avoiding the stuff I've been avoiding

Sooner or later, it was going to happen. My bench space and office space look like a cat. 4 hurricane blew through them, I’m ages behind on my lab notebook and there are various acrylamide gels hanging around in destain mocking me. If I listen hard enough I can hear them. Mostly they say, “Do you even know what proteins you ran on me x number of weeks ago.”

So today, I organize, at least for a little while. So far, progress is painful and slow and I’ve taken every opportunity for distraction that’s come my way. I did manage to clean up all the dirty tubes and tend to my mess of acrylamide gels, but that is about it.

After progressing at a glacial pace, I decided that a hungry Microbiologist XX is not a productive Microbiologist XX, so I accepted an invitation to lunch where I ate a very yummy burrito.

After lunch, I decided a change of scenery might bolster my productivity, so I switched to the office with every good intention of completely updating my lab notebook. I did actually start to update the notebook, but as usual it started sucking really bad and I got distracted.

So, here I am writing a blog post, avoiding the stuff I always avoid.

OK, seriously, I am really going to get back to “work” (until I find something else to distract me).

A little OCD

I've always obsessed over little things. In high-school and undergrad I was constantly checking to make sure my alarm clock was set and on. In grad. school lab I obsessed over a couple of things in particular: (1) the Bunsen burner - was it off or on, (2) the door to the lab - was it properly closed and locked and (3) the air shaker. Now, it's the garage door.

During graduate school I tried combating my obsessions by creating routines. They would help for a while, but then the routine would become too familiar and I would alter it or add a step.

For example, to stop obsessing about my Bunsen burner, I would stare directly at it while I shut the door, thinking all the while, "See, no flame." After a while, this no longer worked, so I added to the routine. I would wave my hand over the Bunsen burner before I went to the door. I would get home sans burned hand, and remember that my flame was off. Eventually, I started freaking out about it again and just as the lab door shut I would ask myself, "Self, did you remember to wave your hand over the flame?" Since I was only 99% sure that I did, I would open the door and look again. The only way I could escape the obsessive thought was to make sure I left the lab while at least one person was still there. I guess in my mind this transferred the responsibility to someone else.

Locking the door to the grad. school lab was much of the same. Sometimes, I would go back and check the door 3 or 4 times before I could really convince myself it was shut and locked. At first I would just visually check the door to make sure it was shut, then I started jiggling the knobs. Eventually, I started doubling back when I was half way to the bus stop as I could not convince myself that all was well. Again, if I wasn't the last one to leave, the thought didn't even enter my mind.

So far, these issues do not plague me in post-doc lab. I think this is largely because the person who uses the bench right next to me comes into work around noon and as a result, always leaves later than me.

The only obsession gained since starting in post-doc lab is with my garage door. When I was in graduate school, my husband would drop me off at work in the morning and I would take the bus home in the evening. Now, I drive to work and when I leave the house after my husband I worry, "Did I shut the damn door?" At first, I solved the problem by forcing myself to watch the garage door go all the way down. Eventually this stopped working and I would find myself half way to work worrying about the garage door, so I would turn around and drive back to check. Yes, it was always fucking down, but that really doesn't matter. When I went back for a third time to check on the door I felt insane. Deep down I new the door was shut, but I just had to check again. I don't allow myself to double or triple check anymore out of fear that in a year, I'll find myself driving back and forth to my house 50 times every morning. Mostly, I just try to get the hell out of the house before my husband leaves so that the garage door becomes his "problem." God help me if I ever come home and find that thing open when I am the last one to leave the house.

I don't get this behavior at all. I do not obsess over large responsibilities. It's always little things like shutting doors or turning things on or off. I can still find the humor in it, but sometimes I feel like I am losing my mind a little.

An open letter to the I.T. department

Dear I.T. staff,

You dumb fucking donkeys are completely useless. I glimpsed this on my first day at post-doc institution when you walked into my office, hung your head, sighed and said in a defeated voice, “Great. You use a Mac.” Remember, I connected my computer to the network printer while you watched. I assumed your ineptitude was Mac-specific, but today I realized that it’s likely technology-specific.

I'm not going to lie. It’s disconcerting to find out that the network at this university is infected with a virus, but it's totally fucked up, to learn that the network became infected with this virus over three weeks ago and no one informed the people who hook their computers up to said network until today. Apparently, you didn't think it was a big deal a few weeks ago because only a few computers were infected.

Do you jackasses even know what a goddamn computer virus is? I think you don’t, and since your unlikely to get fired, I feel the need to at least try and educate you.

A computer virus is a computer program that can copy itself and infect the computer without the permission or knowledge of the computer operator. Furthermore, the virus can spread to other computers via floppy disk, CD, DVD, USB drive and networks.

Still confused?

Computer programs are instructions for a computer. A computer is a machine that manipulates data according to a set of instructions. A machine is any device that uses energy to perform an activity.

Regards,

Microbiologist XX

Brief surface

Life is kicking my ass right now.

Work.

I still have a trillion things to write*, a trillion proteins to purify**, a trillion constructs to make*** and two presentations to create and deliver this week****.

Home.

Renovations are stalled out due to a lack of time and motivation. Even so, that second bedroom really needs to get painted as the next several steps hinge on its completion. There is other stuff going on here too, but it's too boring and frustrating to write about at the moment.

Other.

I am fatigued (did I mention insomnia is super awesome and fun?) and annoyed and in a few more days I am likely to reach a homicidal state. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, but if I blog anymore I'm going to go off on a wicked rant.

Hopefully life will return to normalcy next week and I'll feel less ranty.

*actual number = 4 (2 papers, one review, one grant)

** actual number = 12 (each protein requires three trips through the FPLC (Ni2+, Q, Ni2+) so it really does feel like a trillion.

***actual number = 9 (This really is no big deal as I am a cloning god. However, multitasking it into the rest of my daily duties makes for a long, non-stop day.

****I found out about these presentations last week.

Bacon, The devils meat?

Almost anyone who knows me, even a little, knows that I love bacon. When said people see anything related to bacon, they either alert me to it or buy it for me. In the recent past, I've received bacon band-aids, bacon luggage tags and bacon-flavored chocolate. Today, I was alerted to the following picture on the blog, Picture is Unrelated - WTF Pictures and Videos.

So, my question is, where the hell is my complimentary piece of bacon?

And it comes full circle

I don't really consider myself a klutz, but I'm not exactly accident-free either. The mishaps are infrequent, but the resulting pain and feeling like a jack-ass more than makes up for it. Since starting this blog, I've already documented two of then. Some of you may remember the story of the funky toe, or a nicely-documented account of getting my finger seared to a latex glove.

I new I was overdo for something stupid, especially after the good news this week. Then it happened last night. I accidentally kicked the fucking black guitar case lying on the floor, in the dark. It hurt like a motherfucker and I am 75% sure my pinky toe is broken.

There I was, walking along in the dark, minding my own business, trying to get to bed, when bam! Intense pain, can't make sound, can't breath. I'm sure I've lost three toes and broken my foot. Of course I didn't, but it swelled immediately and by this morning the top of my foot was a lovely shade of purple. Yes, I somehow managed to ram the top and side of my foot simultaneously. America, I've got talent. Go me!

Anyway, I spent the day hobbling around the lab in flip-flops, no less. Once I figured out how to not use my pinky toe in any way, shape or form, I got around OK.

So, I'm ready for Friday and a few cocktails.

So we bought Rock Band

and I may never get anything accomplished again.

I've already put off paper revisions, painting, eating, shopping and other domestic chores. I did make it back to work on Monday, so things aren't out of control just yet.