Bill Shakespeare

Sigh no more,
ladies, sigh nor more;
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never;
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into. Hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties,
sing no mo,
Or dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leavy.
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into. Hey, nonny, nonny.

from "Much ado about nothing"

santa stuck in a chimney

This is my Gremlins story, or "Why I hate Christmas".

I don't really hate it, I'm just bummed on it this year. First of all, something bad is happening to someone really close to me, but I can't speak about it because its not my business to tell. Just trust me that it's bad and it hurts me a lot. Second, my whole family hates each other. My brother isn't speaking to any of us, my stepmom and my sister hate each other, and my mom hates everyone. It doesn't make for a very family holiday. I was talking to a friend, who also dislikes this holiday, and I explained to him that it doesn't suck that much for him to dislike Christmas, because he doesn't care. I really want to enjoy this holiday. I wish I had a big happy family that loved each other, with lots of aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins and spouses and babies running around. I wish there was a turkey and stuffing and ham and mashed potatoes and presents. No presents for me this year. Except from my sister and Lynne. Who loves ya baby?

check me out

You're&nbsp; either gonna think I am the dopest shit around for this, or it's sheer nerd-dom will amaze you.<img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r134/aclauer/mario.jpg"><br>No big deal, you may be saying to yourself, just a little mario bros. Nostalgic, maybe, but nerdy, never. Well, if you'll look closely at the top of the screen you'll see the standard windows menu bar. Thats right, I'm playing mario on my computer. I got what is called an emulator, which contains the entire Nintendo Entertainment System in a standalone executable of about 745Kb. That's less than a song. After that it only takes a bit of hunting to get what are called 'roms', essentially the information contained in a game cartridge. Those files are about 40-50 Kb. Amazingly small by today's standards. But wait, there's more. Maybe I should explain why I'm doing this. I have a computer in my bedroom with a lovely flat screen monitor on which I sometimes watch downloaded movies. Ultimately my goal is to make this machine a media center. I have a TV tuner that I shall be installing as soon as I can talk Dan into letting me split the cable line and wire it into my room. I also have a dvr (actually in the same machine as the tuner). I installed XBMC, also known as Xbox media center. That's a media center originally designed for modded xboxes to hold media files and such and manage and play them from a single interface. As is usual with software people have upgraded it and tweaked it until it is now available on all formats including linux and mac. People have written plugins for it that will also manage your emulators, should you so desire. I do. <br><img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r134/aclauer/marioland.jpg"><br>I also downloaded a Super Nintendo emulator, as you can see from the Super Mario Land screenshot above. I will get to Nintendo 64 soon, as well as sega genesis (strictly for Sonic the Hedgehog), and I have also got an original atari emulator, but I haven't downloaded any games for that yet. In case you are interested in doing this yourself, know that the game roms are actually copyright protected and can be hard to find. But not that hard. Oh, and one more thing. I bought this:<br><img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r134/aclauer/snes_usb_controller.jpg"><br><br>Looks like a regular Super nintendo controller, right? Look closely. That's a usb connector on the end. <br><br>Commence Worshiping Me.<br>

my vacation

I am about finished with my cleaning, I will vacuum and some other stuff. Feels good! I also gave myself a mani- pedi. I have been staying up till four or five watching tv, an on demand movie here or there. I plan on installing XBMC on my tv machine, it's a media center originally designed for the xbox that has expanded and now is the next big thing. I'll also organize my room a bit and buy some pictures for the walls to make it more homey. I have a tendency to ignore my bedroom. I have to make a conscious effort to pay attention to my room or it'll be a bit boring and bland. All in all I'm enjoying having no obligations. I will also read a book here and there, hopefully. I'm not sure what, but they will be completely unrelated to any of the subjects I study in school, I'll tell you that. I also may play some video games on my roommate's PS2. I think tomorrow night I'll get drunk. I love, love, LOVE having all this free time. Today I cooked butternut squash soup. It was a bit hairy at first, didn't turn out like it usually does. I added too much water, so it was awfully thin and sort of bland. Usually when I make it, it's thick and sweet and full of flavor, so I was a bit worried. I managed to rescue it, though, I just added about a half cup of brown sugar and some roux and it turned out fine. Tasty, especially with the sour cream topping! I also made marinara, one of my specialties. Tomorrow I will finish the marmalade I started today. You have to soak it overnight and cook it the next day. The marmalade is a real experiment for me, never made anything like it before and don't know how it will turn out. Three whole weeks of this aimless and drifting existence, and I am thrilled. Let me know if you have any requests.

one more

This one I am particularly proud of: it is a response to Byron Beck (Willamette Week's Queer Window) branding all Christians homophobic gay bashers.

I'm sure Byron Beck is a very nice man, I've never met him. I am also sure that in his recent article regarding going "back in the closet" he was referring specifically to the intolerant and bigoted Christians and not the entire population. It's just a symptom of the air regarding religion among the hipster, too-cool-for-God population of Portland (not hatin' on PDX, I'm a native). It's gotten so I'm afraid to admit I believe anymore, because I don't want to be lumped in with the bible-thumpers. Now there are quite a few points on which they and I disagree, but as it pertains to Byron Beck, the Defense of Marriage Council does not speak for me, and frankly, I don't think they speak for Jesus. At issue is whether or not Jesus (or God) approves of homosexuality, and if that approval is grounds for crusade for legislation. The visible religious right claim that it is reprehensible in the creator's eyes (although I'm not sure I agree) but EVEN if that were the case, their crusade for prohibitive legislation is entirely contrary to the message Jesus preached, one of tolerance, love, and understanding. The distinguishing factor of Jesus' brand of tolerance as opposed to all the others that have been offered was the unique idea that we show tolerance and patience with what we DON'T understand. I believe that is also, incidentally the foundation of the first amendment, but that's another argument. I'm quite convinced that even if- especially if- Jesus (or God) disapproved of homosexuality (which, again, I'm not sure is the case) he would still support the RIGHT of gays, lesbians, and any consenting adults to live and let live. Jesus supports GAY RIGHTS. PS Can the Blazer's catch an f'ing break?

I’m a nerd and, uh, I’m pretty proud of it.

<br>So this is my desktop<br><img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r134/aclauer/desktop.jpg">This is much more complicated than a simple nerd's replication of a federation computer interface. A lot of work went into putting this desktop together, as it is not just beautiful, but also functional. The reason I think you might care is that the software that went into it is all free and widely available.<br><br>First, check out the date/time at the bottom of the screen. That is a live calendar and clock embedded into the desktop. The tool I did this with can actually do a whole lot more, but to get this effect the date and time was all I wanted. The program is called <br><br><a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LnNhbXVyaXplLmNvbS9tb2R1bGVzL25ld3Mv" target="_self">Samurize</a><br><br>and it is pretty neat. I have seen people embed media players, pictures, and lots of other stuff. Look around on the website for examples.<br><br>Using a simple registry mod I have removed the recycle bin to make way for everything else.<br><br>Now for what you really want to know about, those menus. They are FULLY functional. Those are actual tabs on the sides, each with full menus of applications.<br><br><img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r134/aclauer/desktop-1.jpg"><br><br>Now see the flyout menu when I click the folder? It displays the entire contents!<br>This magic was done with a program called <br><br><a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LnN0YXJkb2NrLmNvbS9wcm9kdWN0cy9vYmplY3Rkb2NrLw==" target="_self">Objectdock</a><br><br>It is a program to create 'Mac OsX' like docks. Now admittedly I did this with the pro version, which I stole from www.ddl2.com, but I recommend that if you get software from this website you scan it with your virus software because it is often bad. It took a lot of playing around and downloading themes and such to get this done, and now&nbsp; I don't really know what I've accomplished, but it sure is neat!!!<br><br>

another big idea

When I come across something that I wrote in the past I am often surprised by how articulate and eloquent I can sometimes be. Sometimes I write letters to the editor, sometimes I respond to opinion blogs, etc. When I am able to recover them, I post them on this blog so I'll have a record. Anyway, this one I wrote in response to this:

http://blog.wired.com/biotech/2006/12/do_you_have_a_b.html

an article propigating the ridiculous and dangerous notion that there are genetic- not environmental- sex differences in the brain.:

The idea that there are, in fact, biological differences between male and female brains is almost exclusively American, supported by American data. The global research on the subject ranges from slightly dissonant to completely contradictory, in some cases providing exactly opposite conclusions as to the inherent tendencies and strengths of gendered thinking (verbal and linguistic vs. mathematical and spatial being the major distinction usually applied). Further, much of the data which supports these long held American conclusions is from earlier times when the socialization of activities and occupations was largely delineated down gender lines, a fact which provides more than enough alternative causation for gender differences. It is important to consider the ramifications of any notion that there are differences in the brains of the genders before casually perpetuating these unfounded American myths.

psychy 101

I haven't blogged in a while, but I haven't had anything to blog about. here goes: I have a deep dark secret that in this 'dog town' may seem a little blasphemous: I don't care about animals. I've always felt guilty about that fact, and never understood it. I'm not saying I hate them, and it's not even that I strictly tolerate them. I've lived with a few, had some cats growing up, and done my share of dog sitting, and I really don't mind them. I just have never been able to connect with them in the way some people seem to. I wonder if it's even possible for me to do so. As I said I've always felt guilty about this fact. I like kids, and I like baby animals. I'm environmentally conscious, a pacifist, and generally believe in caring and good will towards all creatures. So I should adore animals. I have some reservations about dog ownership if you don't have a lot of open space for them to run, and they are A LOT of work. I also think bird ownership is re-god-damn-diculous. I mean, what is it about birds that we find so fascinating and admire? They're magnificent ability to soar. So what do we do with them? We put them in a cage so small they can barely walk, let alone fly. Most other caged animals that we keep; lizards, hamsters, etc, are ridiculous by similar logic. But I digress... I was killing time so I decided to google the question "Why don't I like animals". I only found one site that attempted to answer the question. The grammar was strange, leading me to believe it was poorly translated english, which didn't lend too much credence, also it had one of those 'cosmo-magazine-quiz' rundowns of who likes and dislikes different kinds of pets along with a quick psych profile of each. At the end, though, it discussed the apathy towards all animals. First off it said that animal apathy didn't make one a bad person. Phew. Then it gave 5 or 6 reasons why one may feel that way. The last one made sense, and I think I have solved, or at least deduced it's source in myself. To paraphrase, it said that one might find pets 'a poor substitute for human contact and connection'. I'm not saying that I intellectually agree with the idea, but I think that subconsciously that is how I feel. Of course, this opens up a whole other can of worms, and now I have another 'why' to solve, but it makes for something interesting to chew on.

you don’t know from busy

You wanna know about f'in busy? I'm so busy I fell guilty taking the time to write this blog. I just finished my third week of school and things are going fairly well. I am not out of money yet and my bills are paid till the end of november. That's pretty cool, eh? I bought some new glasses and some other stuff, not too much to show for my financial aid this round but that's okay, I had alot of old debts to pay off. School isn't really that hard, just tons of work. I am still a research assistant, which currently entails finding and copying articles for my professor, and also some IT work(as usual). I also got elected secretary of the society for physics students, which is additional work. I really need to get ahead of my homework, though. Yesterday I woke up at 10 and went directly to school, then I did homework till 10:15 at night, went to bed at 10:30. I don't mind doing it because I have decided that Saturday evening I stop, no matter what, and start again Monday morning. I have to be in the lab on Saturdays this quarter so I can't go out on Fridays anymore, but that'll just save me money and liver. I still cut loose Saturday night, and one night is really all anyone needs. I will have to do some work on Sundays as I have to study for the first comprehensive exam on Nov. 30th. All graduate students at PSU have to pass with 50% one of two exams covering thermodynamics, mechanics, experimental physics, quantum mechanics and modern physics. I have until winter of 2010 to pass. It is strictly from memory, no notes or anything! I think I can do it but its gonna take some hard work. I'm currently taking 'current electricity', 'electricity and magnetism', and 'experimental physics' which is essentially a circuit building class. So after this quarter I will be the world's leading expert on electricity. Not really, but I'll know alot about it. I have three chapters to read by tomorrow night, and also some journal articles. Also, two books on crystallography that I have to fit in somewhere. I think the hardest thing is not actually doing the work, but budgeting my time. I will never again take vacations for granted. Bye.

privacy

someone violated my privacy a little while ago, someone I trusted and thought cared about me. Someone I cared about alot. I was never anything but nice to him, and he had no reason to do this to me, other than he likes to take advantage of women. Honestly, I'm really not that private a person. My life is an open book and I don't mind sharing the details of it. I think that the only things we have to be ashamed of are the things we can't share with friends. That said, I want to explain that It's not the privacy that I am upset about. I'm not embarassed or anything. I was doing nothing wrong. It's the violation that gets me. THE MOTHERFUCKER VIDEOTAPED ME WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND IS SHOWING IT TO PEOPLE. So if you get a chance to see it, go ahead. I ain't mad at ya. I'd rather get it over with and have everybody get a good look rather than have the whispers behind my back thinking I don't know what's going on.
I've had offers of revenge, people close to me who are willing to do nasty things in my name. I have so far declined. (I'm thinking I may yet get an opportunity, but if I do it'll be something benign like laxative or the like)

THERE IS NOTHING I OR ANYONE ELSE CAN DO TO MAKE THE MOTHERFUCKER'S LIFE ANY WORSE.


the end.

an old work

This is something I wrote for my applications to New York and I thought it was good so I'm sharing it. I know from experience that skills and aptitude do not necessarily equate to achievement. I found this to be true in my own education as well as what I have observed working with young people. What is the problem? What barriers prevent seemingly competent children from reaching their potential? I would wager that many children suffer from the same difficulty, one I suffered from as well. When I was in high school I was an underachiever. I didn't perform nearly as well as my assessment test scores predicted, and I barely graduated. I remember feeling empty. When I returned to school as an adult I found what I was missing. A special teacher, who I imitate often, showed me the enormous value of my own unique skills. I found purpose, patience, and persistence, and the grades to prove it. This is not so simple as it sounds, however. As educators we believe in the infinite capacity of all children to learn. We try to impress on our students that we know they are capable of the highest of heights, and do our best to give an excess of positive feedback. But encouragement is not enough. Many children need more than just encouragement. They are smarter even than we imagine. A pat on the back and a "You can do it!" may not be sufficient. They need a reason why. They need to understand in this great big world, how they could be of any importance. Why would the universe, in its infinite wisdom, need anything from them? What could they, 1 of billions, possibly have to offer? It is that question that the quote from Martha Graham answers. "There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening, that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique" Why does the world need just one person? Because, though there are many, you are special, you are different, you are unique. No one else has your voice, speaking from your experiences. If you do not contribute to humanity the gift of your own expression, who else will say what you could have? For this reason the self exploration offered by the arts is vital to cultivating this sense of importance in our children. Through creative outlets, it teaches them to find their own unique voice. Further, it teaches them to mold, shape, and perfect it so they may make it heard. I believe the arts are a path to help our children find the meaning they need to reach their full potential.

I finally did it

I down graded my laptop from vista to xp. For one thing I wanted to delete the recovery partition, cause, let's be frank; I don't need it. Plus I was just tired of how much drive space everything took up, my drive was full with only 20 or 30 gigs of music. XP just takes up less of everything. Also, I'm gonna try and get a new laptop on Happy Financial Aid Day so I think I'll give this one to my sister, and there's no way she could navigate Vista. I have to admit I miss the look of Vista, if nothing else. It's much slicker. I've only been reinstalled for a few hours and I'm already sick of looking at xp. I'll fix that, though. BTW I'm pouring out some liquor for my homies locked up in jail. It is 12:40 and I have fixed the ugliness. There is a theme that was intended for xp media center but pretty much gives the sleek feel of vista. It's called Royale and you can get it HERE It installs just like a program, then just right click on the desktop and click properties. It will be there with the themes. I highly recommend it, it relieves the duldroms of xp

love stinks

you love her
she loves him
he loves somebody else
you just cant win

computers and mad men

i could bitch. I am feeling discontent, and I could talk all about it. I could whine about my boy problems. I won't, but I will say that I am tired of having a melodramatic love life. Truth is, I think it's just the Sunday blues. I've written about it before, and if you are a faithful reader you remember. Most things are good. I love my new apartment, Dan is a great roommate, and we are getting on well. I got some computers to work on, which makes me happy. One of them was a huge pain, actually. It was a dell laptop with a bios password that prevented even the most basic access to the machine. I couldn't even boot off the cd drive, which would have allowed me to use my super secret hack tools to crack the password. Apparently, this particular breed of password protection is especially difficult. I beat it though, of course. I only had to take it apart and short out the bios chip with a bobby pin! So I get past that and guess what? HARD DRIVE PASSWORD!!!! So far all my sources online say those are IMPOSSIBLE to crack, but still have a few tricks up my sleeve. Let's just say I know people. It wouldn't be a big deal except that a new laptop hard drive is $40 or more, and I don't think the owner of this machine will spring for it. So pretty much all I did today was sit around and work on 3 laptops. While you all were out enjoying the sun I was inside like a true geek. I didn't even shower and I have been sweating booze all day (ewww). Oh, did I mention that the building outside my window is getting the roof painted, so there were laborers with a leaf blower at 9 am? Domingo!! Domingo!! (Sunday).   Mad Men was fantastic tonight. Salvatore is married now, and I can't believe it. Jimmy Barret called Don out for screwing his wife. Some little rookie secretary is trying to battle Joan, and she has no idea who she's screwing with. I have to relay a story I insisted on telling Dan tonight, even though he promised me it would be meaningless since this was his first time watching the show, but whatever. So Joan is the vampy head of the secretarial pool, and at first I didn't really like her. The name of the agency is Sterling-Cooper, and she was sleeping with the married Roger Sterling. She has professed that she has no aspirations toward any higher career and is looking for a husband. She is the epitome of the 60's party girl/siren. As many of you have heard me say, I don't really respect women that don't think they can make it on their brains.  So anyway, somebody had this brainstorm for a playtex bra campaign that all women are either a Jackie or a Marilyn (I wonder which one I am). To prove his point, he opens the office door and points to the women in the office: Jackie, Jackie, Marilyn, you get the idea. But when he gets to Joan (the siren) he says, "Well Marilyn's a Joan, not the other way around" or something to that effect. There was such awe and reverence in his voice. It was a strange kind of respect that I wouldn't think would get to me. Anyway.I always thought the only thing I ever wanted to be respected for was my brain and my character. I just never imagined that kind. My summer is almost over and the real grind begins. Its either gonna be way better (I'm in grad school now, don't forget) or the end of life as we know it. I have my first institutional exam that I have to pass, its general physics so I should be alright. I built a laptop for my professor's son, and I'm about to build a mac for one of the Commish's homies at the skatepark nonprofit. I'm looking forward to that. I haven't dealt with mac's much so this is will be a good introduction. There is a mac build program at my church (free geek) and the PC build program is where I learned alot of what I already know. I am so f'ing impressed with myself for cracking that bios password. I am the queen of all electronics. TTFN.

ode to my sister

So I broke up with my bf about 4 months ago. I finally went back and tracked down what day it was (May 6th) so I could stop saying 3 months, because I didn't know but knew that wasn't right. My sister was also in a long term relationship that started at roughly the same time. If I moved to Alaska during mine, she dropped off the face of the fucking earth. It really wasn't her fault: she lived in Vancouver and didn't have a car. It is really hard to be mobile in those conditions. the moral of this story is that I didn't get to see my sister much in the last 2 years. She finally broke up with her boyfriend and moved in with a friend, and she is much closer in (60th and Division). I too lived in Vancouver for a spell, and now I am much closer in (SE 13th and Pine). I want to take a minute to appreciate how close that is to EVERYTHING!!! That is not the point of my blog, however it is a very good point. The point of my blog is my sister and I have been spending a lot more time together now, since she is looking for a job and I have a car. I was also mad at her for a spell, which is fair since she was mad at me too. Anyway, I forgot how much my sister and I are a matched set. We get along quite well, we are a lot alike, and we have a lot of fun together. Nobody in this world understands me like she does, and that is important when you're as weird as me. We get each others jokes, most of which are inside, and we have a LOT of them (Klopek, what is that, Slavik?). I'm rambling, but what I'm getting at is it's good to have her back.

Longest week ever

I have never looked forward to Friday so much in my life. Every day this week so far has been like pulling teeth. I move my bedroom stuff from my mom's tomorrow and the rest on friday. I won't have to sleep at a strange house after a hard night at the bar, and I can't wait. See ya there!

Why my mom sucks

My mom has been promising things for years and then backing out. It's sort of her M.O. Believe it or not my dad has the same bad habit. It's made me into a real 'waiting for the other shoe to drop' kind of girl. So it should be no surprise to me that she did it again.
I will not be the next owner of a 1992 Lexus es-300. Something about new alternator, $2300, and faulty electrical system. That's all fine, no problem, I understand, right? Except that with my mom I never know if she's making shit up. Whatever, I probably won't be driving that much in my new place, anyway.

melancholy

I am concerned about my mental state. I don't think I'm headed for a straight jacket or anything like that, I just don't like my attitude. First of all, have you noticed how long it's been since my last science blog? The main thing that concerns me, though is that I'm no longer the happy go lucky single gal I was when I first became single again. The shiny has worn off the penny a bit, to say the least. My love life is a bit of a clusterfuck, of late. When I first got out of the relationship the world was full of possibilities and it seemed like everyone was dying to get a piece of me. I felt like a really hot commodity. That's not really what is bothering me either, though.
I have begun to begrudge my singleness. It's this thing I used to do before I got in the relationship, before I knew what it was all about and thought it was the thing that would make me happy. I would constantly, but subliminally, yearn for the day, hour, minute, when I would meet the man of my dreams and somehow it would make my life perfect. Logically I know this is ridiculous and I judge and ridicule women like that. However, it sits in the back of my brain. I hate it, and I'm doing it again. The only difference is I know a lot better what I want and will NOT get involved with someone who is not right for me just because I want to be in a relationship. I just wish it was all happy and fun and anything's possible again, cause right now I'm a bit hung up on this one dude that got away. Whatever, he'll be back. They ALWAYS come back.

mom is trying to help me land a husband

It should be a secret, but I really like living with my mom. I think she's giving me the Lexus, so that should carry her well into the teens decade for buying my affection, but that's actually not why I like it. It has cramped my dating a bit because I can't bring some nice young boy home for dinner (or anything else), but a little forced virtue never hurt anyone.
The most entertaining development is that she's living a bit vicariously through me. She likes the party life, so she understands about my lifestyle. I've also lost a few pounds and she is REALLY excited about that. On my birthday she made me get my hair highlighted. Yesterday she saw me in a halter top and was so excited about how thin I looked she went out at bought me another tube top the next day. Now she has promised to buy me one in every color.
One advantage of the halter is is properly showcased my my snake moments last night. My killer sunburn has developed into gnarly blisters and then huge chunks of peeling skin. People found it entertaining to peel me at the bar last night.
Another advantage was that I got hit on more in one night than I have in a month. It was a great night. Still no husband, though. Just kidding, I don't think I ever want to get married. I like the idea of life long monogomy, but I've worked way too many weddings in my life to be too jazzed about the idea. I once worked a wedding at the Oregon Trail center downtown, where the salads were served in Martini Glasses. I think someone told me the whole thing cost $40,000. That's a down payment on a house. That's a Yacht. Fuck that. That's why I tell every guy that gets halfway serious about me that I will only get married in Vegas, by an Elvis. I am so serious.

Red in the face

Amber the lobster at your service. I went to Santa Cruz yesterday, which is always a good thing. Unfortunately I know someone who is able to make it bad: my ex-boyfriend Mike. I made the mistake of answering his call while I was walking to the beach from the boardwalk, and by the end of our conversation he managed to make me cry. I seem to be crying more than usual lately, which may not be my fault, but rather the fault of ortho-tri cyclen lo. Said cause is being given the boot due to other inconveniences it is involved in. Anyway, he still managed to make me cry. I'm not sure he ever got me to cry while we were together. This was not a nostalgic, weep for what might have been crying. This was mean and hurtful comment crying. So anyway, when he tried to call me back for about the fifth time in this argument I told him I never wanted to talk to him again as long as I lived and turned off my phone. I think I mean it, too. Bastard. One of the other side effects of the conversation was my distraction while I was getting sunburned. So now I am a stinging color of red on my face, shoulders, arms, chest, and stomach. I could feel it in my sleep. I am hoping it will fade by this weekend, and I am actually not unrealistic in this hope. If you have seen my legs lately you know that they are ghostly. I also enjoy the vitamin-d rush of sunbathing. I am not averse to a mild sunburn and rarely use sun block. Do I have a death wish, you may ask? No, of course not. For one I go out in the sun in this fashion maybe once a year, and rarely burn this bad. Also, though I am pale, I also have a strange combination of nationalities in me including native american. This causes my occasional sunburn to fade very quickly and have very little side-effects. After the sun burn the rays have little effect on me and it can take a month for me to develop any sort of deep tan. This almost never happens. So thanks to Mike (fucker) for the tan.

Road Trip- in progress

8 hours in a car without air conditioning, sweaty as hell, in a rush to get a cheap hotel. Apparently $90 is too much to pay, so we settle for a $75 one which looks alright from the outside. It is not. I will later post pictures, but right now you'll have to trust me. It has a kitchenette, but the stove is not plugged in, the table has only one chair, and several of the cabinets are missing their doors. And that's just the kitchenette. In the main area the dresser is missing a drawer, there are two diferent curtains on the windows, and there is no AC in San Jose, CA. In the bathroom, there was no toilet paper and a toothless man knocks on the door soon after check in with a shower head in his hand, as there isn't one.  The walls are covered in plaster and the water is pink. The neighbors are crackheads and there are broken appliances outside. The only bright spot: San Jose has free public wi-fi so I am able to be online right now. This part of the trip wasn't really for me anyway. I used to live here, but Carla (the bride) grew up here, and I brought them their car so they could get back on time without having to pay $500 to change plane tickets. I'm just along for the ride. Their family is out visiting with her friends and I wasn't really up to it. I thought this as good a time as any to blog. I am seriously scared by this room, and I'm not easily spooked. This trip has given me ample opportunity to forget about my problems and, alternatively, time to dwell on them. Driving through the desert for 19 hours alone will force you into self reflection. I know that in the grand scale my problems are minor, but they feel big. But enough about that, let's talk about vegas.
I have decided to look at this as a learning trip. I could have had a better time had I been a bit more experienced with this town, and I learned alot about what to do and what not to do. Don't get me wrong, I've had a blast, but I made alot of mistakes. The first day here was the best. I woke up at around 12 after crashing immediately upon arrival at around 5:30. I went down to a cafe and spent $7 for a sandwich and soup, and soda. It wasn't awful, but I warn all who hope to visit here that vegas food gives you the shits. Then to the pool. It was hot, as I'm told Vegas is this time of year. It was crowded too. Not just the pool, the whole f'ing town was packed. The bridal mafia was in full effect, something about the 8/8/08 thing being a big wedding day. Also, there was a fraternity convention in town (awesome). Next I headed to the mall to get my haircut before the wedding later that night. No go as the cheapest place in the mall wanted $50, and my hair cut ain't difficult enough to be worth that. So I went back and started to get ready. The ceremony was in a cute little outdoor area of the Viva Las Vegas wedding chapel. It was short and to the point, and I will never forget the look on Carla's face during the ceremony. It's hard to explain; it was partly nervousness, and Rich said her hands were shaking, but it was also something else that I can't really describe. Everyone looked beautiful and it was perfect. Then it was off to the
Stratosphere for the reception. I gambled a little before the reception as we had some time to kill. I lost $25 on $5 blackjack but made up some of it with my free beer.  I didn't lose it immediately, I won a few hands, and should have stuck with table games for the rest of my trip. Then dinner, which was quite good. A few people gave toasts, and of course I couldn't resist, mostly because it was so loud in there I knew I was the only one who would be heard.

"Carla, now you can't try to sell him anymore; Rich, there are no words. You're short-bus special, baby and we love you. "

Eloquent, I know.

Everyone's feet hurt unbelievably bad and mine were no exception. We head back to the hotel to change our clothes and prepare for some heavy duty partying. Everyone else partied the night before and so I was a bit more anxious than them. I'm not exactly sure what happened next. What I do know is that in our hotel there were no $5 blackjack tables and I certainly wasn't prepared for $15 a hand. So I went to the electronic games. First of all, the video poker machines don't recommend which cards to hold like they do back home. I don't know how many wins I missed because I forgot that. Not just when I forgot altogether, but when I forgot to count straights. Anyway, in not much time I had lost $120. I just had a bad feeling at that point and decided that that would be my entire gambling budget. A good thing, because after I drank and whatnot, I had $100 left. I just wasn't prepared for how expensive everything was. For example, a 6 inch sub meal at subway was $9.15. I can not tell you how many times I have heard 'why didn't you get a five dollar foot long?' The best part of the night was the clubbing. We didn't bother with 'Rain' or anything like that, either you have to get in really early or the cover is really high and the line really long. We went to a club in the lobby of our hotel (the Imperial Palace, on the strip). It was actually really cool. One of the members of our party paid for VIP, so we had our own section with free booze. Awesome. Plus, they played better music in the first 10 minutes than I heard the entire time I was at a club last time in Portland. And once you've had VIP, it's hard not to be spoiled. The bars don't close in Vegas, so we GOT IT ON. We danced our asses off. Some memorable moments were  'Face down, Ass up' by 2 live crew and the Pony song, I don't know who thats by (if you're horny, let's do it, ride it, my pony. My saddle's waiting, come and jump on it) There was lots of air lassooing and mimed ass slapping. We then decided not to pay $265 for another bottle of booze, as the same bottle was $25 in the lobby store. We bought one and headed to the room. I'm actually amazed how long we made it before security was called. Highlights of that were playing 'I never' (of course I was put on blast, as usual) and the passing of the cigaweed. Others played spades, but I am not familiar with that game. We eventually headed to breakfast. I got distracted by the shiny flashing lights and sat down to play a little. I end up chatting with an English bloke here for some IT conference. Leave it to me to find another computer nerd. By this time it is approaching 6 am and I am loaded. I would like to take a second and appreciate the fact that I am blasted out of my gourd and it's okay, in fact it's encouraged. The English bloke and his friend buy me another beer, we gamble some more, and I am off to bed. I wake at 3 the next day and go walk the pallazo at Caesar's Palace: the one with the famous ceiling. I was a bit disheartened at this point because I realize that this uber-mall thing is a lot of what there is to do here, and something I am entirely not interested in. It's still exciting to look at. Next came my $9 sub in the middle of the casino next door to ours called 'O'shea's. This casino is far superior to ours in many ways, and it's clear that my time the night before was entirely wasted. First, the barker is a midget, dressed like a leprechaun. Awesome. They have 24 hour happy hour with $2 drinks, and there table minimums are $5 or less. There is also beer pong. The best part, though, is this casino has War. You gamble on the old lame as child's game. I later find out that even the Bellagio, of Ocean's Eleven fame, has war. The imperial palace did not. I find that it is depressing in Vegas with little or no money, so I go take a nap. We end the night walking the strip. For some stupid reason I decided not to drink that night. We see Harrahs, the MGM Grand, the Bellagio, NY NY, Treasure Island, the Luxor, and more I can't remember. The people watching is awesome, there is an obese wheelchair-madame, panhandlers, and people hawking hookers wearing sandwich boards. Back to the hotel for a 3 am breakfast and then off to sleep. Sunday we go spend the day at Rich's cousins house up in the desert. The pool in their apartment has a waterfall, and the view is AMAZING. We leave Las Vegas in the Expedition, my chariot from the trip up.
It has a 24 gallon tank and is advertised to get 18 mpg highway. This works out to about 432 miles on a tank. There must have been a 'last gas for 97 miles' sign, but towards the end of my second tank of gas I missed it. I am white knuckled in the middle of the Nevada desert praying for a gas station. At 512 miles on the odometer I pull into Ely, Nevada, proclaiming a gasoline miracle.
Anyway, now we are on our way out and it is HOT. I still sleep for 7 or so hours. We pull into San Jose and start looking for a motel.

Fast forward to now, when I am watching fuzzy tv and writing this blog. We are headed to Santa Cruz tomorrow, which should be fun, then we will head home at about midnight tomorow night. I cannot wait to get home. Honestly I was over it yesterday. I wish I had flown.

Shoulda Known

The fact is I did know. I knew it was all bullshit. People make promises to me they can't keep all the time, probably that happens to everyone. I was completely prepared for it to be bullshit. But it was fun to think that it was me, for once. It's always someone else, ya know. It was nice to think that finally I was the girl. And I knew it was bullshit. But it was fun. I would say that next time I'll know better, but I probably won't. See yall when I get back from Vegas.

small victories

I fit into my skinny jeans, and on a full stomach. Haleluah

never get sick in Lincoln City

So, would you like to hear about my day? I woke up after not much sleep at the beach with my wonderful friend Lynne and my father ready for some oceanside fun. First thing on the agenda: Clam Chowder. So we drag my dad to Mo's, a local favorite, known for their bread bowls. No sooner did we sit down then I begin to feel a bit of a muscle cramp in my lower left abdomen. Ten minutes or so go by and I try to ignore it and eat my chowder and it does not go away. Then it starts to get worse. I ask my dad for the keys and I go and lay down in the car. It continues to worsen. I'm starting to get scared. Ten more minutes and I am getting light headed. I call my dad from the car and tell him we need to go right now. My first thought was the emergency room, however, I am not so clear about my school insurance so I decide just to go home and lay down. By the time I actually get home and into bed I am bawling from the pain. My dad immediately makes the executive decision, and off to the ER we go. Apparently the hospital is in Idaho, or so it seems from the drive. My dad does not exactly drive like nascar, either. Also, it's a slow and windy mountain road. To top off everything my dad is pointing out sights to Lynne, who is in the backseat with her hands over the top of mine rubbing my shoulders and letting me squeeze hers.
"Hey Lynne, have you ever seen Devil's Lake? The D river is the shortest in the world. "

We finally arrive after what seemed way too long in a town that size and pull in to the hospital. Lynne and I both immediately start to worry because it looks like bad apartments from the 70's. I shit you not, I thought we were in Wimbledon Square. We enter the emergency room, which is empty, and I sit down on bad office furniture. I'm shoeless and my pants are unzipped because I have no sense of modesty at this point. I'm a pretty tough girl, but I was moaning and swearing like a woman in labor. Everyone in this place moved like turtles on vacation. No one comes out to check on me or ask my symptoms, and a guy in line finally has to offer to give up his turn and tells them "hey, this girl seems like she's in a lot of pain".
Eventually I get seen. Ken, the murse comes out and brings me to triage, which consists of a blood pressure machine and a Geriatric chair. He talks to me like I am faking, and he really starts pissing me off. When he gets me up to lead me to a room he has forgotten to take off my blood pressure cuff and I am yanked back by it. I get in my room and put my gown on, anxious for the sweet relief of a bed. Tben I have to get up to give a urine sample.
I finally get to lay down for good, only to have the excruciating pain I have been in become unbareable. Then in walks the only bright spot in this National Lampoon's Emergency Room visit, a wonderful nurse named Valerie. She tries to get me to work on some sort of calming breathing but honestly I can't concentrate long enough to get to the 'out through the mouth'. Slowly but steadily my pain is increasing. When she checks in for the number of my pain level I tell her '11' but she doesn't get the joke. I tried really hard throughout this ordeal to keep cracking jokes because I didn't want to scare my dad and Lynne anymore than the crying already had.
The tests from my urine come back positive for blood (negative for baby!), which immediately reassures them I am not faking and the wheels are speedily set in motion. Everyone immediately begins speculating: kidney stones.
Valerie, who I will be nominating for saint hood quickly starts my IV to get blood and allow for pain meds to be administered. She had intended to wait for the doctor to see me but I think it was apparent I couldn't wait that long. The meds were just in the nick of time because my pain had spiked well into the 20's and, in addition, was beginning to turn into a frightening burning feeling.

Diloted is a beautiful thing. All hail Diloted. Our father who art in heaven, Diloted be thy name. It kicked in so fast I was amazed, but grateful for the subtle burning sensation and feeling of falling. I would have 3 or 4 more doses before I left the hospital, all of them almost made what I was going through worth it. They also pumped me with two full bags of some sort of fluid to hydrate me and encourage me to urinate. Then off to have a CT scan, which is a glorified X-ray where they send your body through a donut.

Keep in mind this was earlier today.

I returned to my room to my faithful friend Lynne waiting patiently to keep me company. Everytime I told her she could leave she insisted that, of course, she was fine and wasn't going anywhere. My dad had gone home a while ago; he doesn't do well with hospitals. It was no big deal, Lynne was there with me and our house was only a few minutes away.

I was honestly scared that they just wouldn't find anything wrong with me.

I was scared for nothing. The nurse returned to my room soon after to report that I, in fact, had multiple kidney stones. Only one was currently giving me trouble though, and it was currently positioned right at the end of my uretur (?), ready to enter my bladder and hopefully be passed. Well the bed I was in was too hard to sleep, believe me I tried, and so I started to bug them about going home. Every 20 minutes or so the Diloted is wearing off enough for me to hurt again, so I was worried about how I would stay comfortable at home without my blessed instant gratification. They prescribed more Diloted, an anti-nausea med, and an anti-inflammatory.

We leave to go pick up the meds, because the Walgreens in Lincoln City is run by Chimpanzees who need longer than an hour. This does not work well for me and I start throwing up. Good thing the nurse packed several barf bags for me.

Is it clear just how bad of shape I was in?

We finally get back to my parents house, I get into bed, and Nurse Schwabe (Lynne) administers my first dose of meds to me. I hunker down, prepared for a several day battle. The idea is for me to stay doped up and drink lots of fluids so I can hang out till I pass it.

I immediately fall dead asleep.

3 hours later I get up for my first bathroom visit since I gave the sample at the hospital. They have given me a catch to put in the toilet and a strainer so I can save the infernal stone for analysis. I do my business, stand up, and look in the strainer, and there is my new friend, all 2 millimeters of him. I'm going to call him George W.

And now I feel fine. I'm still high as a fucking kite, and I plan to have one more round of dope to force me to convalesce a bit more, but for all intents and purposes I think I'm cured.

It is 10 oclock now.
All of that happened in just under 9 hours.

Welcome to the Wonderful World of Amber

today's the day

I am currently at my mother's house waiting to take a shower. I am going across the river to free geek today to finish up the server I am building for the Nanocrystallography database at school, upon which time I will be showered with praise, kudos, and accolades. Anywho, I am working tomorrow and so I have to wash my work clothes before I leave the house today, however, my mom is doing a load so I have to wait for that to finish. I've already cleaned my room so I thought this the perfect time to write a blog.
I am very excited to join the Nanocrystallography Group at Portland State University, and I'm quite proud of how I got in (I was supposed to discover mistakes in a paper but instead discovered one the Professor didn't even know about) but so far I'm just a glorified CPU grease monkey. Which is fine by me, I guess, cause you all know how much I like to work on computers: more than most things, except maybe sex. But it's at least as fun as beer, food, or television. I know it's not really hip to like tv these days here in hippie ville, but there are some really good shows on right now. There is a specific list of shows that I watch;

That 70's show
NUMB3RS
Boston Legal
How I met your Mother
Big Bang Theory (funny!!)
Two and a Half Men
Mad Men
My Boys
Burn Notice
King of the Hill
Tony Bourdain's No Reservations
and the numerous space documentaries on the Science Channel

I rarely deviate from this list. I watched Apollo 13 when it was on the other day, and that was pretty rad. I don't think I started this blog to talk about TV, though.

Oh yah, my professor, advisor, and head of our group asked me what I wanted to do for the rest of the summer, since I probably will have this server finished within the next week or so, and he approved the only thing I could think of that I want to do.

I GET TO LEARN THE MICROSCOPE!!!!!

Now, this is no ordinary microscope. First of all, it's about 7 feelt tall and worth a cool million $. There is only one of them at our school, and we have special additional machinery of which there are only 3 in the world. It is a Scanning Electron Microscope. As we may have discussed in the past, there are some limitations to the Nanoscience field. Many of these limitations have only recently been overcome. The major one involves visualization and imaging.

Let's look at the prefix 'nano'. Nano is really just another SI prefix, like Mega, milli, tera, or Giga. Each of these is a power of 10 (mega is 10^6, milli is 10^-3) and nano is equivalent to 10^-9. Now these prefixes can be put on any number of units of measurement, from temperature, to pressure, and even radioactivity, but in the case of nanoscience, it refers specifically to the measurement of size. The nanometer is 10^-9 meters, or .000000001 meters. That is very, very small, approaching the size of the atom. The difficulty in dealing with this small size is that traditional methods of imaging are inadequate: light microscopes are unable to view them because this scale is smaller than the wavelength of light, .0000003-.0000007 meters.
A new method therefore had to be developed, and so it was. The electron microscope involves shooting electrons at a specimen, and measuring either the ones that bounce off, the ones that tunnel through (that's a whole ball of wax we won't get into right now), or both. The reason electrons are acceptible for this is that when excited with electricity they have wavelengths approaching 2 angstroms, or 2x10^-10th  meters, just small enough. Unfortunately the first one of these wasn't invented until the late 30's, compared to microscopes, which have been perfected for literally hundreds of years. Only recently has the resolution I mentioned even been achieved. So the point is, many of the things we have been able to do with traditionally sized materials and subjects are only now being invented and perfected at the Nano scale.

So anyway, I get to learn the microscope. The laundry is done so I am going to go now.

The shape of things to come

For most of us, the Shuttle type Space vehicle is the only one we know. Commissioned in 1977, the reusable, winged vehicle was revolutionary, but not necessarily NASA's best idea. Unfortunately, like in all government agencies, politics still plays a big role, even civilian ones. The space shuttle program was actually a very big PR move. Before the shuttle, all space vehicles were of the capsule type. The only method of returning to earth involved slowing down using boosters and then floating to earth with parachutes and splashing down in the ocean to be retrieved by the Navy, and capsules were only used once. It seems downright barbaric when you think about the graceful fashion in which the shuttle returns home: it rides the reentry at just the right angle and then flies home just like any other air born vehicle, of it's own volition, so to speak. Alas, the Shuttle is not much longer for this world. In 2010 the Endeavor will be the last Shuttle flight and then the program will be decomissioned. Believe it or not, NASA is returning to the legacy capsule design for future planned vehicles. One of the major reasons is the amount of available data on this design. Simply put, there have been alot of them, so it is well tested. Russia is actually finally developing it's own winged shuttle. Specifically, these vehicles are planned for our first manned trip to Mars slated for the early 30's (Russia's mission is set for 2018).
Other than the iconic Space Shuttle, the only other vehicles most of us have seen have been from movies and tv; Star Wars and Star Trek immediately spring to mind. A short list includes the Millenium Falcon, The X-wing fighter, the Y-wing fighter, and the Tie fighter, although I'm sure some of you out there can list many more. From Star Trek we have the Constitution-Class Enterprise from the original series (NCC-1701, recognize!) and the Galaxy-Class from TNG. Then there are the Klingon and Romulan birds of prey, the ferengi marauder, and many others.
The reason I bring this up is even though the Shuttle was highly political, it felt right. Returning to the capsule seems wrong somehow, and it bothers me. Maybe we've all been ruined by science fiction, but we are used to seeing these sleek, sexy, speedy ships designed to look like hotrods for the stars. Think about Princess Amidalias imperial cruiser, for God's sake.
The reality is these designs are wasted in space. All that sleekness served one purpose only: aerodynamics. However, the field that has guided all of our flying vehicles to date is completely useless in the vacuum: there is no air! No air means no need for wings on which to create lift or smooth surfaces to reduce drag.
When I watch space shows now (and I do, a lot) I see all the planned ships and the current vehicles, and I get a little depressed. They all seem so boring, and not at all like the space future I imagined.
I think there is hope, though. Remember, for example, what the cars looked like from the Hill Valley of the future, from the movie "Back to the Future"? Or any other futuristic movie: Freejack, Demolition Man, Total Recall, etc. The cars all look the same with no right angles, only long lines and gentle curves. Slowly but surely real cars are beginning to look like that.
I have a theory, and I even coined a phrase to describe it. It's regarding the  affect that the visualization of future technologies from science fiction will have on the actual development of said technologies. I call it 'Pre-imagined Technology'. I think someday tri-corders will be a real thing. To put it more simply, I think that the imaginary stuff we make up for movies will affect the way the actual stuff will eventually be designed.
My point, I guess, is that these boring space vehicles just remind me how far we are from the Space future of Star Trek, of Star Wars (yes, actually long, long ago, I know) and of my dreams. Now, admittedly my focus on the vehicles is a bit naive, since there are much larger obstacles, like, say, the speed of light barrier, but I let the physicists worry about that...wait.
Anyway, I just want to get there already.

To infinity, and beyond!!!!

plans made but not kept

one of the plans I made a few years ago that I have not kept was to amass an obscenely large collection of legos. I still want to. Wouldn't it be awesome?

Nunya

I don't know how long its been since I've mentioned this, but I'm psychic. I don't really care if you believe me cause that's not the purpose it serves. It comes in the form of flashes in my head, of pop culture references, songs, past events in my life. There are a few that are reused, and of course there are always new ones. I'll explain more about that later, the important thing you must know is it never fails me. An example that comes to mind is when my sister was looking for a job and had applied at a few places I got a flash, I can't remember what, but the jist of it was that she was gonna get a job at A-boy hardware store. She had filled out the application weeks ago and we had pretty much written it off. There was no obvious reason why I should suspect that she would get the job. Of course less than a week later she got the job. Like I said it never fails me. Almost. Except when it comes to boys. I think I'm starting to figure out why; it's kinda like that scene in "Bruce Almighty" where Jim Carrey, who has previously been omniscient, is unable to use all the powers of God to make Jennifer Aniston love him. This is a relatively new revelation for me because I'm not used to problems I can't conquer with my brain. You have to forgive my hubris, but in the rest of my life I'm acustomed to getting almost everything I want by the sheer right of being one of the intellectual elite. I lost you on the sympathy, didn't I? Well, don't envy me too much, because though things come easy to me in a way that I take for granted, in a way that many people would kill for, mastery of boy-girl relations has always eluded me. I feel like I am literally retarded when it comes to love. I know everyone thinks they are terrible at it, but I REALLY am. Seriously, ask anyone who has dated me. I promise that everyone in the entire world has managed to figure out how to have satisfying interaction from the opposite sex except me. I promise. Anyway...
I think I have figured out that the reason it is sometimes wrong when it comes to boys is that people have free will. You just can't completely predict what people will do with matters of the heart.
So I said I would explain how my psychic powers work. I'm not saying this is how it works for everyone else, but this is how it works for me. First let me tell you that it doesn't work on command, not usually. I'm sure there are exceptions, but they are rare. So my mind wanders as they tend to, and I'll be thinking about one subject or another, one that is not necessarily settled, and a flash of vision will hit. I said that they are pop culture references, and they often are, but the most common one is an event that happened when I was about 5. This was deep in the middle of the cabbage patch kid crisis, and I had not gotten my first one yet. We were at my uncle's house for Christmas and we were opening presents, and one after another was not my cabbage patch kid. I was getting worried, and finally down to my last present from my grandmother. I had this awful feeling of fear and dread because the cabbage patch kid had it's own aisle at kmart (my mom's favorite store), and I visited it whenever I could. I knew that box by heart, and the gift being handed to me by my grandma was not the right size. I opened it halfheartedly, knowing that no matter what it was it wouldn't be as good as that little piece of plastic and cloth with 'Xavier Roberts' written on its butt. So I open it and it turns out Grandma had ordered our gift from a catalog and when sent by mail a CABBAGE PATCH KID GOES IN A DIFFERENT BOX. So I got my cabbage patch kid. Her name was Rosa Bethany (how strange that I remember that). So when I get that flash I know whats going to happen with whatver I'm thinking about: it will look like it's gonna go bad but then turn out in my favor. Another example is that stupid 'David's Bridal' commercial song. When I met Mike I knew we were going to get together because I kept hearing that song in my head.
Now I know what you're thinking, everyone gets random songs stuck in their head and other random flashes of thought. I have those too, and they're meaningless. These are different. First, they happen when I'm actually thinking about something else. Second, there is a different feeling when the important ones happen.
I'll tell you the most important one I ever had: it was ten years ago. I can't say it was the first one, but they started right around that time. When I was 21-22 I was a nanny for some very wealthy families in San Jose, CA. I was at work and it was nap time, which meant nap time for me too, and I was on the edge of sleep. I had plans to go swing dancing with a friend on Wednesday that week, and I started thinking about that, and the voice, or what ever it was, said "Not that Wednesday, the one after that", I was on the edge of sleep, and I sort of stayed there, but at the same time I perked right up, because this had never happened to me before. Then it said "Go to the Church of the Sacred (friendly) Heart". I can't really explain whats with the parentheses except that it's what that part felt like, sort of an aside. Anyway, the reason you should believe that this is legit is because I ended up getting fired from that family later that week and by the next week I was placed at a new family. Soon after starting the mom asked me to attend a church service with them to keep an eye on the kids. They were Jewish, and it was some sort high holiday, I think, but whatever, it was on a Wednesday. Guess where the service was being held? Of course, the Church of the Sacred Heart. Now if you are astute, you will have noticed that name is Catholic. The attendance at high holidays was so great they couldn't fit everyone in the Synagogue and had to rent out this church. This happend, I kid you not. But I haven't even gotten to the most important part; the reason I was supposed to go there. I didn't know it at the time but I soon figured it out.
The service was actually a kid's service and it was performed by a kid's rabbi, and she told the story of Jonah and the Whale. She didn't tell it the usual way though.
So Jonah is this kid from Ninevah, and God has a calling for him. He comes to Jonah and tells him that he doesn't like the way the people of his town are treating each other. Everyone has gotten selfish and bitter and rude and just not very godly. God tells Jonah he wants him to change that. Jonah protests and tries as hard as he can to avoid it and finally he just says to God, "But I'm just one person".

And God says "Yep, that's what I'm lookin for".

Well you may or may not know the rest of the story, but the way it goes is Jonah runs like hell and even gets on a boat, which ends up caught in an awful storm caused by God. The sailors figure this out and throw Jonah overboard, where he is swallowed by a whale. The whale then travels all the way back to shore and spits Jonah out back at home in Ninevah. Jonah wanders around a bit shaken, and in his daze he bumps into someone, and they both fall down. Jonah is starting to get the drift that if God wants you to do a job, you do it. The other party looks like they are about to get pissed, and before they can do so Jonah finally gets on board with the program. He jumps up, helps him up, and says "I want to tell you that I'm sorry". The other party is stunned by this kindness. In similar fashion he passes it on to another person. Before another day has passed this kindness has spread virally and Jonah wakes to a new town. He is amazed to see the godly vision of a town that he was charged with producing. Needless to say, he is amazed. In his amazement he manages to get an audience with God again and he once again repeats "But I am just one person?". To which God replies

"Yep, that's what I was lookin for"

I kid you not, this happened.

That story was actually worth a blog of its own, but I'll continue the reason for this blog: my psychic powers as they relate to boys. So not long ago I had this one boy on my mind and at one point I got a flash that was actually two flashes: the first was when I was living in a house with 4 girls from U of P and I left for the weekend to come back to my rent money order having been stolen off the bulletin board. The second was that part in "As Good as it Gets" when Skeet Ulrich and pals beat the shit out of Greg Kinnear after he has trusted and grown to like him. Not a good one.
Another one involved a time we went to some resort on Mt. Hood during summer over the fourth of July when I was a kid. It was a weekend and there were lots of festivities planned, including a swim meet. I was a swimmer, so of course I entered, and I ended up winning. Not because I was the best, but because there weren't many people. It was a raining that weekend. You don't have to be a genius to interpret that one: that boy only liked me because I was the only girl around.
The most recent one involves a different boy. After having a date with him and not really being in to it, I got a flash of this other one that is quite common. My parents own a house in LC and we have always spent a lot of time at the coast. We were in some 5k and there was a drawing at the end for the kids. Well, there were very few entrants, so in order to get rid of them all they gave us all 2 prizes. I ended up having a second date with said dude and kinda liked him.
However, tonight I had a flash that is decidedly depressing. It's also a new one. It was the Jack London short story "To Build a Fire" that I read in middle school. I've already gone on quite at length in this blog, so I won't drag this one out. This guy takes a walk in the woods at -75 F when the local wisdom says never go out alone under -50 F. The guy falls through the ice and gets wet to his knees, and eventually freezes to death. That ain't good, I don't care who you are.

I guess the only good thing to take away from that is that free will and the inability to predict works both ways. I have the power to change outcomes too.

Apollo 13 is on now, and as you may or may not know that is my current obsession, so I bid you farewell.

No Reservations

Anthony Bourdain is a Motherfuckin Pimp. A player, bitch, I thought you knew. He is one of my heroes. I can't exactly explain why, but I'll try.
Before my current career as supernerd I had another. In my former life I was a superwaitress. I don't mean to brag, but I was an f'ing ROCK STAR. Almost right out of highschool, fresh faced and wet behind the ears I moved to San Jose, Ca. I was dying to be anywhere near California, and also I was trying to get away from the first in a string of losers that I have dated over the years. TGI Fridays was my first job when I got there. I started as a hostess, then moved to busser, and finally to waitress. Since then I have worked restaurant jobs almost non stop, and I currently have a very part time catering job at one of the nicer hotels in Portland. It's sparse work, but it fulfills my need for the food biz. I stopped doing it full time in '02 when I got fired from Widmer, my longest job at that time at 4 years (It really wasn't my fault, but that's not really important to the story). I got my financial aid paperwork in the mail days later and I hadn't even remembered filling it out. I started school a few weeks after that and the rest is Bachelors Degree history (if you're counting it took me a little more than 4 years).
Anyway, at some point this aspect of my life turned me into a foodie. I love restaurants, food, cooking, anything related to it. Not surprisingly, I have a thing for cooks, too. For a good 5 years I didn't date anything but. In fact, that was one of the big things that brought Mike and I together when we first started dating. I remember when he made me a shrimp frittata for breakfast and it looked like it was supposed to! Space or no, food is one of my major passions and it always will be. So if you understand all that about me, you start to get why I love Tony Bourdain so much. But it's not just that.
He wrote a book that is considered required reading for anyone in the business, and a lot of civilians have read it too. One of my favorite parts is a story he told about working in a beach resort town on the East Coast when he was just starting out. It was a seafood place, and the cooks were pirate/biker/convict types; your general ne'er do wells. I think that there is a misconception that chefs are fru fru, frenchy, femme types. They're not, at least not in Portland. Cooks are some of the burliest dudes going, and working in a kitchen can be gnarly, no mercy shit. In fact, Bourdain came to Portland recently specifically calling for tattooed chefs to come be on his show.
Anyway, the story goes he was working some wedding at the carving station, serving the wedding party, only to go out to the back dock later (the general area where deliveries are done and garbage is stored) to find the bride getting it from behind by one of the pirate/biker/convict saute guys, dress still on, flipped up over her back. Anyway, the book is pretty fucking good and Bourdain is just as gnarly and hard core as his peers. He has stories of working for the mafia, and he is a raging alcoholic and chain smoker. He also makes fun of vegetarians. But he says "sure, if you want me to serve you a bunch of vegetables and charge $38 for it, I can do that". So there's that.

I finally got extra turned on by him with his latest venture: "No Reservations". Its essentially a cross between a cooking and travel show, and it makes me creamy. Sometimes I have trouble watching it, though. It breaks my heart a little. The only other show that does the same thing is "Globe Trekker" on PBS. I think I have what's called a 'wanderlust'. It is much, much more intense than just a yen to see the world, though. I have always known that would not have a normal, suburban, 9-5, church wedding, 2.5 kids and a dog, volvo, PTA life. The stay-at-home mom life is my fucking nightmare (sorry Melissa). Seriously, it's my idea of hell. In fact, if I do manage to have a kid or two (or adopt them), I think it is much more likely that I will either have a full time live in nanny from a very young age (if I do it alone) or a stay at home dad (if I do it with someone). It's not just the kid thing, though. Settling into the american dream, nuclear family life just seems like accepting, even welcoming, the sweet release of death. The older I get, the greater my aversion to it all grows. Even if I do end up in a lifelong monogomous relationship, I really don't see myself getting married (unless it's in Vegas by and Elvis).
What I'm getting at is I have always seen my destiny, my future as a life much more like the vagabond explorers Jane Goodall and Jacque Coustaeau (I had to include some scientists in there). Seriously, have you seen Jane Goodall lately?



That's the fountain of youth: an occupationally fulfilling life, I don't care what anyone says.
I think that's even the reason why I love Sex and the City so much. All of those women have careers, are successful, and essentially write their own schedules. Carrie writes whenever she feels the urge, and the rest of her time is hers and hers alone.

Needless to say, this life is not quite what I currently have. I'm getting closer: this is the first time I've worked at the hotel in months and I have basically spent my summer working on computers, doing physics, reading books, and learning only the stuff I want to learn. I've also done a fair amount of partying. I haven't done near as much traveling in my life though. The New York thing was a big step, and it has at least satisfied my fear that I'll never do it, but it can only hold me over for so long. Even lately I could be travelling as a lot of my friends are, but I don't get my act together, and I haven't had the money. I am going to Vegas in August.
I know by the time I am a full fledged PhD scientist it will all fall in to place. A big part of the life of a researcher is travelling to conferences, and they often hold them in exotic locales. I can only imagine they have the same deep yearning.

non sequitur

I don't think i have a real cohesive theme to this blog, but I feel the need for a vent, so I think I'll just fill it with a bunch of unrelated musings.

Firstly, I have 5, count em, 5 shifts at the hotel this week. I make upwards of twenty dollars an hour doing these events, and each of these shifts will be at least 5 hours long, probably more. I'm thinking I'll get 30-40 hours out of this week. Thats a good chunk of change for me, just in time for VEGAS!!!! I'm going to Vegas for a wedding the weekend of the 8th. I've never been before, so I'm pretty much looking forward to that.

Second, I had an enlightening weekend. This is tricky territory because, as we talked about before we can't mention people's names. But anyway, I have achieved the next step in singledom.

Third, people may look different but they are still the same. They may have a tan and a little extra facial hair, making them surprisingly attractive, but don't let it fool you. They still blow it just like they always did.

I came home today from Hell's Barrio toying with the idea of going to some sort of body of water. Every body else was going and the idea sounded good. I was gonna go to the Columbia since I live in Vancouver, lay on the beach, get a tan, and read my Apollo book. So I put my bathing suit on and had some lunch, then waited around to see what I felt like doing. Turns out I felt like taking a nap instead but that's not the point. The point is this is the first time I've put my suit on since last summer and I was not horrified with myself. I see rivers in my future.

I think I'm gonna make an artichoke.

Because of the aforementioned shifts at the hotel I don't think I'll be going out next weekend. We'll see. When I was dating the old ball and chain I didn't go out much. No surprise there, women often go into hibernation when they have a man. I try and blame my hiatus on him, and alot of it was because I lost my will to party, but there was another thing. Truth is, I really liked having my weekends back. I wasn't hung over and I got up early- well earlier- and got stuff done. Though I was missing partying when I wasn't doing it, now I am missing not partying. I am always tired on Sat and Sun. It may have something to do with the fact that I never sleep at home on the weekends because 'home' is in Vancouver and I can't drive after I drink, but I don't sleep that well. The last time I remember sleeping well was when I stayed at Melissa's because she drove. I really want to get a new place already. After I got all those shifts I mentioned to my mom that a few more weeks like that and I would have enough to move out. She was fairly adamant that I didn't need to, that I could stay till September. It's free, so you tell me: what would you do?

I want to buy a boat. I am so serious about this. Not a real fancy one, but something I could tool around in on hot days like this. I wonder what that would cost. I would use my student loans to buy it, of course.

That's all I have to say about that.

Warning: TMI ahead

So I figured out what my dreams are about: apparently I am actually gay. Not really, I like boys still, but last night a stripper gave them a real run for their money. I've been to the nudie bar millions of times and had much vagina in my face, and it's never really affected me one way or the other. Yesterday was my birthday and I wasn't expecting much. It's hard to get people out on a Wednesday, so I didn't even really invite anybody except a couple of friends, and one of them canceled at the last minute. I didn't even expect to stay out till closing. Honestly I'm okay with that, I'm not going to school this summer so I'm getting plenty of partying in. My fourth of July weekend was quite wild, thank you. So when someone suggested Sassy's I was game, cause it was more exciting than what I was doing: sitting at the Hut being too full from the mixed grill seafood dinner my parents bought me. We didn't even really sit on the rail till I started to get really buzzed. I told all the girls it was my birthday and they were awfully nice to me. So there's one really hot girl at sassy's and anyway, I'm gay now. Not really.

The Year in Review

Since this time last year I:
Moved to New York
Moved back from New York
Changed careers
Ended the longest relationship of my life
Crammed 2 years of physics into 1
Got accepted to grad school
Got accepted to the Nano Crystallography research group
Bought a car
Stopped drinking
Started drinking again
Stopped going out
Started going out again
Fell in love
Fell out of love
Saw 2 movies in the theater
Saw the Guggenheim
Saw the Statue of Liberty
Got a degree
Got a tattoo
Saw the Chrysler Building
Made tons of new friends
Cut off 1 1/2 feet of hair
Moved out of downtown
Moved in with my mother
Had a friend die
Had my Grandma die
Got sick only once
Built 12 computers
Learned 2 programming languages
Fought with my sister (who knows how many times)
Faced a fear
Made up with friends
Went to central park
Saw the restaurant from Seinfeld
Changed my mind
Changed it back
Changed it back again
Had a crush. Or two
Went to Macys in new york, the one from "Miracle on 34th Street"
Drove to California
Saw the view of San Francisco from the Berkely Observatory, I will never
see a view like that again
Went to places in San Jose that broke my heart (I used to live there)
Visited Petaluma
Visited Oakland
Aced my GRE math
Missed Denise. Alot (My best friend who lives in SC)
Hung out with Lynne. Alot
Graded other peoples papers
Taught some people how to do math. I loved it.
Saw the Moon through a telescope for the first time (I know, a bit late. I just
bought one this year)
Read for pleasure, but not much
Attended St. Johns University for a month
Cried
Laughed, more than I cried
Lied, but not on purpose
Admitted I lied almost every time
Quit tutoring
Had a crush on a teacher
Was crushed on
Did not drive drunk a single time
Hated the president
Voted
Sewed pillows
Had my heart broken

If it sounds a bit like that "sunscreen" speech, eh.

addiction

I like to think I don't have an addictive personality. I drink on occasion, but I do it for no other reason than to get buzzed and have a good time. I'm not a weekday drinker, never have been, and I don't think I ever will be. My parents like to tie one on, and, well, let's say they ARE weekday drinkers. Most of my friends drink much more than I do and my boyfriends have all been big drinkers, among other things. I'm the same with smoking. I have been smoking since I was 18, but after about age 23 I graduated to social smoking only. Once again I'm not a weekday smoker. Every once in a while I even go without smoking while drinking. Many people are amazed that I can put it down in that way and not think twice about it.
I had a minor video poker addiction several years ago when I was still waiting tables. It lasted 6-8 months, and it was kinda bad. There were nights that I would put my entire nights tips into the machines. I would feel terrible about it, but it was sort of okay because if I needed rent or something I would just pick up a shift and make it up. Then it just sorta stopped. I don't remember quitting, I just didn't do it any more. I guess it was just a phase.
Lynne and I have been made fun of at length about our dedication to the Sandy Hut. We pretty much always go there. In fact, I know people that, when they want to see me (or her for that matter) know that they just have to pop in on a Friday or Saturday and there we'll be. I'm sorry, I can't apologize for that one. We chase the dream from time to time, hit a few other bars, but we always end up there. Often if we'd just stayed put we would have gotten what we were looking for. It's just too damn easy. We sit down and start drinking and eventually people we know will start showing up.
People have also pointed out to me that I am on Myspace alot. That's actually the point of my blog. I am getting concerned that my Myspace addiction is rivaling my video crack phase. As soon as I was single I was instantly on it alot. Now, I enjoy the blogging and I'm not sorry about that, but I am on my page alot. I can't help myself. Hopefully it's just a phase.

Seti's Paradox

All my blogs of late have been of the  'emokowski' variety,  whining about  my 99  problems (but a bitch ain't one). I have neglected my scientific duties. I intend to remedy that right now.

    SETI, in general stands for the Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence. It can also  specifically stand for the non profit institute of the same name founded in  1984.  Currently the term SETI still refers to a large blanket of efforts to detect alien life, centered around the initiation and detection of communication, most of which is done by radio telescope. It is assumed for numerous reasons that any communication we detect will be in the form of microwaves, although this has been disputed. The work itself is really quite tedious. It basically involves pointing dishes at the sky and constantly moving them around, recording the data stream recieved, and later analyzing it for anomaly. The sky is very, very big, and there is lots and lots of data. You can only imagine the amount of computing power this requires. This led to one of the more interesting features of SETI. Thanks to the advances of the internet and availability of programming recipes, a scientist at berkely designed a program that could be installed on home computers and communicate with the hub recievers to take on some of the processing signals. SETI@home was born. Currently there are over 5 million users that have provided 19 billion hours of computing. Interestingly, this adds up to only the 2nd most powerful supercomputer in the world. On a side note, there is a similar @home program to search for new prime numbers. Thanks to computers we have already discovered many of them. Consequently the undiscovered ones are very large and take an enormous and complex algorithm to test. There is a program that can be installed on the home computer that will recieve a single number and test it. I believe it takes a few days to test a single number, but if your computer finds one you win something like $10,000. Anyway...
    We have actually recieved only 1 signal considered universally to be a candidate signal. It is known as the 'wow' signal, because the researcher on duty at the time circled it on the print out and wrote 'wow' on the paper next to it:

    Let that be a lesson to be careful what you do and say near the time of a major scientific discovery. The "wow" signal was very short lived, unfortunately, and many subsequent searches of the same area have failed to find anything.
    The discovery of said intelligent life is considered by many prominent and respected minds to be an inevitibilty. Enrico Fermi, a very important physicist authored a deceptivily simple paradox entitled "Fermi's Paradox" (go figure). The gist of it goes: "Where is everybody?" Doesn't seem like much of a paradox, does it? Well, what he is really saying is that in all likelyhood, the fact that we managed to evolve combined with the infinitely unimaginable size of the universe pretty much guarantees that there must be life elsewhere in the universe. So why haven't we discovered any?
       This discovery is also considered by other prominent minds to be pseudoscience. In fact, writer Michael Chricton criticized several of the major justifications for SETI and used them as a basis to label SETI religion, rather than actual research. Well if Michael Crichton says it....
    This leads us to what is commonly known as 'active SETI'  For all our attempts to recieve messages we have sent relatively few. They number less than 20 and include the visual message and gold record sent out on the Voyager probes. Incidentally, these probes are still transmitting data from locations outside the solar system. The most famous one is known as the "Arecibo Message", Many of you may know Arecibo as the location of a very large radio telescope in Puerto Rico, also known as "Big Ear", made famous by the movie "Contact" Starring Jody Foster and written by Carl Sagan (thats why it's so good, cause it's scientifically accurate).

    The message itself was, well, retarded.

It was transmitted in binary, similar to morse code, but distinguished by a series of 'on' and 'offs' corresponding to 0's and 1's. The total number of bits in the message was a semi prime number, a number that it is the product of two primes. This was so that the data could be grouped into columns and rows, and done so in only 1 way (actually 2, because you can switch the rows and colums). The data should then be imaged, much like pixels, where a 1 would represent white and 0 black (the color was added to this image to distinguish different parts of the message). This is where the image above is obtained.
The top of the message is the first 10 numbers in binary. Then comes the atomic weight of hydrogen and a few other elements. Then is a description of dna, followed by a picture of man (without a head?). Underneath that is a map of our solar system, earth being the 'up' planet, and finally a picture of the Arecibo reciever (upside down?). This retarded image was the result of hours of committe discussion and deliberation. Oh, and did I mention it was sent to a star that won't be there when it arrives?
    The title of this blog is "SETI's Paradox", and if you know me you know I love paradoxes. I mostly just wanted to talk about SETI, but I also wanted to discuss the subject of this paradox. Our SETI thus far has been focused on listening, almost to the complete exclusion of anything else. So what if everybody else is only listenening too? That could be a good reason we haven't found anything yet.

Thank You and Good night.

PS:
 I had a GREAT 4th of July

these dreams

Last night I had a dream that I married a woman. She was about to marry some dude when I busted in, I think during the "if anyone knows any reason why these two should not be joined" part. I seem to remember that she was waiting for me, hoping I would stop it. It's actually someone I know (no, not Lynne, that's too easy) and it was strange to say the least. We went straight to the honey moon, however, I immediately began making arrangements with her to have an open marriage so that I could still sleep with men, either with her or without (I'm not really into threesomes, I think I was just being considerate). She was a bit of a bad girl in the past and my dad immediately started ragging on her for it and she and her cousins, who were male, left in a huff cause her feelings were hurt. I eventually went after her, only instead of the femme girl I married she was a butch lesbian who looked like a late-teens boy, complete with acne. I went to make up with her but was a bit embarrassed because I knew everyone was looking at us. I wasn't embarrassed about the lesbian thing, I think I was embarrassed about the butch thing. Weird.

update:
Last night I had another dream that I asked out a woman. In my teenage years  I would have been frightened by this as I was susceptible to any fear that I might be different, now I am just stuck wondering what the hell my psyche is trying to tell me. There were a bunch of us and we were trying to decide which girls were gonna go with which guys. I looked at this blonde chick and said "I want you". She thought about it for a minute, looked at the guys, and said "So listen, I'm gonna go out with her." We basically just walked around till we ended up at a McMenamins, where someone was having a birthday party.This woman who was running the party kept botching the starting of the birthday song, so thought I would help her out with my decible strength and started singing. She was still not satisfied and started yelling about how the colors didn't match yet, I think she even started crying. I got the hell out of there, leaving my date behind. I ended up in a car, which was actually a boat, with some talk radio personalities. They wouldn't stop the car so I had to wait till we were at a stop light in San Francisco. Earlier that night I had a dream my sister was hit by a car right before we were supposed to fly out of town. The driver hit and ran. They caught her later, dressed like a nun. Weird.

Any ideas?

reversal of fortune

"Good evening and what can I tell you..."

I think I will talk about the way your view of someone can change so fundamentally that you are amazed at the contrast. I began this blog with that quote because it's author is the perfect example of what I'm talking about: Dennis Miller. The years of his tenure on weekend update were some of the best years of SNL, and his segment was a reason to watch rather than just filler. He was so incisive, so witty, so sharp, much the way John Stewart is now. I fucking loved him. I continued to love him when he had his own show, and several comedy specials. I mean come on, who was cooler than Dennis Miller. Recently, though, I have come to find out he is a staunch conservative, and needless to say I was disappointed. I felt my feelings for him starting to slip. The final nail in the coffin was when I saw him rant (on Fox news, no less) about the myth of global warning and how it is a cyclic trend that has nothing to do with the industrial habits of man. I have a whole argument prepared for the day when I actuall run into someone in person who wants to argue that with me, here goes:

I will ask them
"And where did you get your PhD in Climatology?"

They will begin to answer with some rhetoric about not needing a PhD, bla bla bla, whence I will interrupt them with:

"Oh, you studied Chemistry, then"

They will start to be indignant and shoot back with some half ass argument, and I will again interrupt them, this time with:

"Geology? Physics? Biology?" I will continue, "Oh I see, you are completely talking out of your ass. Not only that, but you are making a mockery of people who actually did dedicate decades to living, learning, and studying the science behind all these processes, slaving away, day after day at research and exploration. Those people who actually know what they are talking about. And not just some left wing conspiratorial clique of scienctists, but ALL of them. They all agree. So in the future, please leave these discussions of professional opinion to people qualified to have them, and stick with what you are qualified for: giving handjobs at the GOP convention"

That last part was for when the argument was directed at Ann Coulter. But I digress.

Since that time I have felt my feelimgs for Dennis Miller slip irrevocably into oblivion, and I don't imagine they will ever return. I found out a similar fact about Adam Sandler, but his work is inane enough as it is that I think I can comfortably live in denial.

Of course, the obvious example is Michael Jackson. Who could have imagined when Thriller came out what he would one day turn into.

There are examples of people closer to me, of course, none of which I care to discuss, but you can use your imagination: people break up after all.

The interesting aspect of this discussion is the reverse. I will have to ponder it at length, but I can't think of any case where the reverse has occured. Interesting.

the asylum

I reference the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy often in daily life. Hell, I answer questions in class with '42' at least once a quarter (they're math and science classes, so 42 could be a legitimate answer). Well, here goes another one. There was a character, I don't remember his name, but he lived in a place called the asylum. If you actually visit the asylum you find it's built inside out. The exterior walls have interior features, the furniture is on the outside, and the inside of the house is really the outdoors. The jist is that the rest of the world is really the asylum and what's inside, where the man lives, is the place for sane people. The reason he has done this is quite simple. On the wall in a frame is a box of toothpicks. It has instructions for use on it. That is sort of what I felt like tonight. I had an interesting weekend all around, but first let's talk about tonight. I had to pick up the other Czech at the airport, and of course his flight was delayed until 3, so I was unable to partake of any adult beverages. I felt really crappy all day, and I was pretty much inside the house, so I was happy to get out and do the bar thing, sober or no. Now I bartend occasionally at the hotel, so I'm really no stranger to being around drunk people. This was different. To be in the middle of it all watching as it happens and interacting with buzzed folks is quite surreal. I actually had a pretty good time, and if I had to I could make a habit of it. I was really surprised at that fact, I thought it would really suck. I did feel a little like I was the only person living outside the asylum, though. The best part of the evening was an interaction between Jake and Mrs. Lynne:

Jake: I was a Clinton supporter, actually.
Lynne: Why, are you from Mexico?

Jake and I laughed quite hard at that. We were not laughing at her, as I can only assume that she was buzzed and misunderstood what he said, but it was really classic.

Let's rewind to last night.

Last night one of my friends was busy making moves on a dude. As is often the case, me and said friend went to enjoy some after hours festivities with the dude and his friends. I was quite pleased by the male to female ratio, as the occupation of the friend left me the only other woman with 5 guys. That adds up to pick of the litter for old Amber. I wasn't wrong, there were several plays made, all of which were more or less politely refused (one of them I actually thought was cute).
The advances of one of them became a little impolite, and I was starting to get annoyed. When he asked me "What's your name, anyway?" I was happy to respond "Well it ain't Strawberry" (Strawberry, Strawberry, the neighborhood ho).
Eventually he divorced him self of all pretense at respect and told me to show my tits or get the fuck out. I don't remember what the other boys said, but I don't think they were defending my honor (they were probably passed out). Again, my friend was occupied, so of course she didn't want to leave. I was drunk and feeling feisty of course, so when the ultimatum was delivered yet again I replied, "What would you do with them, you have a tiny penis?" and slammed the door on my way out. I made a few calls to people I knew in the area, none of whom answered their phones (thanks a bunch), and eventually ended up walking the 15 blocks to the Sandy Hut and sleeping in my car. It got hot early.

Now lets return to tonight. I was sober because of the aformentioned trip to the airport, and as I was leaving the bar, several of the boys from the previous night begged me for a ride. I had a few minutes to spare so I obliged and I was so fucking happy when they went to get in and I got to tell the rude one, in front of everyone "YOU CAN'T FUCKING COME". The rest of us drove off. I was pleasantly surprised that his friends felt no loyalty to him and were quite willing to leave his punk ass.   PAYBACK'S A BITCH. It was even more satisfying because earlier that night when he arrived at the hut I really wanted to avenge myself. I had fantasized about what I would do if I were braver and confident in my ability to kick his ass (he was a smaller dude). I had the idea that I would walk up to him, flash my boobs, and then punch him in the face. The way things turned out was good enough.

OH AND SOMEBODY HIT MY FUCKING CAR AT THE AMBASSADOR. THERES A MEDIUM DENT IN THE DRIVER SIDE DOOR NOW AND IT CREAKS WHEN I OPEN IT. FUCKER.

a quick one

Over, done with
before it began.
This weekend, maybe...or is it the man.

The greener grass

I have seen some of my highschool pictures (not the one of my old nose. that one's a bit frightening), and I'm amazed at how thin I was. The reason I am amazed is because this is not the way I remember it. I remember being plagued by thoughts of how much fatter I was than the popular girls. I know, puke, right? This leads me to wonder how many other ways I felt inferior that were less than accurate. I have talked to many people that I went to school with, and while I thought I was nerdy and unpopular, they thought i was a snob. Now, I am not waxing philosophical about popularity and self image just to be emo.  I am distressed by how much I missed out on, how unhappy I was because of time spent worrying about those things. It's bullshit. I am sure it didn't stop after high school. Well, I know I felt the same way, so I'm sure there's a good chance that my feelings were equally as inaccurate. And guess what? I still kind of feel the same way. I have much more confidence in my people skills; my ability to make friends, hang out, and generally be fun to be around is much improved. My body image, I'm afraid, is not much better. I just have too many friends who are way hotter than I am to delude myself about that. Don't get me wrong, I know that the opposite sex has much different and broader tastes. I know that being cool goes a long way, and I don't want to brag, but, well, I am. Very. I also firmly believe that the powers that be did not design this universe so that appearance is the key to happiness. I still really let it get to me. I think about all the summer things I want to be doing and my appearance definitely affects my enthusiasm. I actually feel that I have a pretty healthy relationship with food. I decided a long time ago that life is short and nothing was worth denying myself things I wanted to eat. I don't eat McDonalds or any of that crap, no doritos or junk food for me. But other than that I eat what I want, when I want. It's not like I gained a bunch of weight, or anything. No, I pretty much look the same as I have for about the last 5-10 years. In fact, since being single I have lost a few pounds. But, if you're a girl, you understand that it doesn't really matter. The reality of your appearance is of no consequence when it comes to the world we create inside our heads. The inner monologue that says how things are is very hard to change, and some of us are so invested in it we don't want it too. It's comforting. So my point is, I really need to do something about it. I don't want to miss any more of life worrying about this crap.