Randomness

This post has no official subject, as it will most certainly encompass many topics. My guilt has started to wear on me for my lack of blogging, especially after Mary sent me a very nice card and spoke of how she enjoys keeping in touch through our blogging. Considering I have much downtime at work these days, since the poster and data are both done (well, data is mostly done), I could theoretically give blogging more time. Alas, I have not. Shame on me.

Leah and I went to see Tropic Thunder last evening after we spent some time at the pool (with Kathy). I hadn't heard much about this movie, save a few tv trailers, until Tuesday, when at Aura's birthday lunch, her husband, Jeff, comments how there have been great protestation about this movie due to the satirical portrayal of mentally challenged individuals. Apparently, people were...*gasp*...offended! First off, this movie has been touted as a comedy, and don't most comedic features poke fun at some sector of the general population? Secondly, if you're offended, don't see it! Mind you, this movie not only makes fun of "retards", it makes fun of just about anything of which you could think is able to be satirized. With that, however, it is only offensive if you let it be offensive! Even more disturbing is the thought that this movie could quite possibly be more graphic and crude than even Borat. I thought Borat was interesting, not quite the greatest comedy ever (as I had been told), but not awful either. Tropic Thunder was so awfully hilarious, I would have probably paid full price to see it. But, beware, there was a shark in the trailer and there's lots of (fake) bodily mutilation.

The Olympics have been awesome. A self-proclaimed Olympic fanatic, I have been glued every night, except for Tuesday...more on that later. I am sad, though, that last night marked the end of swimming. Of the summer sports, I most enjoy swimming. Gymnastics and track are cool, so is diving and equestrian and beach volleyball, but swimming is far and beyond my favorite. Let us not forget, that Michael Phelps made this Olympic games something to remember. I watched every race (save Tuesday) and bit my nails and screamed along with the world at the 4x100 relay and the 100 fly, just when you thought he might not get all 8 golds. It is something to think that someday, we can tell our children that we witnessed history in such grand fashion.

So, what did I do Tuesday night that inhibited my ability to watch the Olympics? Colleen and I ventured to RFK to watch the New England Revolution take on our DC United in the semifinal of the US Open Cup. For you who are not into soccer at all, the US Open Cup is unique in that it incorporates 5 different leagues from across the country...the MLS (Major League Soccer), USL (United Soccer League) first and second division, USL Premier Development, and US Adult Soccer League. It was quite by chance that two MLS teams played in the semifinal and pretty awesome that we got to host the game. As with the AFC Championship in the NFL, this competition is established in honor of Lamar Hunt (he gets around!) and is relatively prestigious as far as soccer goes in the US. Colleen got our tickets through Barra Brava, DC United's legendary 12th man. Since none of you have never been to a United game, you can't quite comprehend how much of a presence Barra Brava is at the game. If you think about it, a stadium is structured with cement ramps, floors, etc...Barra Brava makes RFK shake. Literally. It is absolutely amazing. They have open membership that brings ticket discounts, pre-game tailgating (free cerveza and food like you couldn't even imagine) and the most fanatic game experience ever. This was my first game with the Barra Brava. Try as we might to avoid beer drenching after a goal, I still had disgustingly sticky hair at the end of the night. I managed to fake along to most of the chants, for fear of more beer drenching. Side note - the blatant disregard for the price of beer and the amount that is wasted in the air and not into the body is INSANE. The Barra Brava is self policing, thank goodness, because I am sure the referees did not appreciate gestures and comments that rhyme with duck. Some of the things that were sung were far from appropriate sportsman-like conduct, at least to me, but the agreement with DC United and Barra Brava prohibits any ejections or removal of fans from the stadium. All in all, quite cool. I'm going to attempt an image here...of Colleen and I toward the end of the game.



Let's see, what else? My newest hobby has been kitchen domesticity. Mom got me started with a Saturday spent making pasta sauce with hand-made meatballs. This is my grandmother's recipe and also, the only thing I have found that Tide-to-Go cannot remove from clothing. The following weekend, I made corn and potato chowder, which is one of my favorite cold weather comfort foods. Of course, it was really like 85 degrees out when I made it, but cravings far outweigh any sensibility. After that, on a craving whim, once again, I made Singapore Noodles that I shared with a friend. I was too cheap to splurge on ride noodles, but capellini worked just fine. It took a week to get through the whole pound, but it was worth it. And, Aura's birthday was this past Tuesday and I had promised her a homemade carrot cake with homemade cream cheese icing. After grating just three carrots for this cake, I decided I could grate carrots every night and get enough of a workout to have the most toned and sculpted arms ever seen. It was purely by accident that the icing worked out like it did...I let the cake cool the recommended 15 minutes and began to frost. The cake was still too warm and broke down the sugars in the frosting to an almost glaze-like consistency. However, in breaking down the sugars, it brought more of the cream cheese flavor out and made for an absolutely scrumptious cake. Aura absolutely loved it and I got rave reviews all around. I'll try and add a picture of the cake too.



Jami and I visited Pier 1 a few weeks back and I took the opportunity to browse the sales and ended up with a dining room redecoration project. I love my dining room, although it is teeny tiny, and it was nice to add to the ambiance with new placemats and napkins and such. The new placemat color also ties into the living room, which is openly connected and gives a nice flow of color throughout the apartment. Also note my nice wine rack on the floor behind the table. I am having doubts that it will ever make it onto the wall, especially since I finally bought a new frame (the old one never had glass in it) for the picture. I am also getting quite a collection of pint glasses from various bar excursions with the Happy Hour crew...Bentz Street's Flying Dog promotion and Brewer's Alley 12th anniversary party.



Well, friends, I believe I have come to a loss for thoughts at this time. Hopefully, the pictures worked and you have something fun and entertaining to catch up on in the life of Carter. Time to hit the grocery store. All the church-going crazies should be gone. ;)

Careers in Science

As each day wears on, I am finding it increasingly difficult to maintain composure about certain situations around the workplace and the utter ignorance of seemingly normal people. In the general public, there are many misconceptions about scientific careers and related industries (regulatory compliance, for instance..Leah has great stories), but I realize that an uneducated (scientific) perspective is one that can be easily misinformed or misled to believe things that are just not true. The trouble that I have these days is accepting that people who come from a somewhat similar background in the sciences can be so naive and self-serving regarding every day laboratory life. When I chose to major in chemistry, I did so knowing full well that there are risks involved with a career in science. In saying this, I want to make it clear that I use the word "risk" in the loosest possible sense.

Science is a completely fulfilling and rewarding career, from the earliest points of discovery to the end of changing life for the better. As with any job, really, there are hazards that occur in and around the laboratory that you are fully made aware of from day one. One of the first lessons in any laboratory course is how to properly protect yourself from the dangers of chemicals, fire, glassware...I could go on and on. But, you are certainly not able to execute any experiments in the lab without protecting yourself from (sometimes imminent) accidents. I can't even imagine Dr. Sauder, in those first weeks of gen chem...heck, the entire year...missing an opportunity to better equip her future scientists in practices that would be beneficial throughout their careers. Laboratory accidents and exposures are inevitable, but it is truly up to the individual to take the time to minimize these risks.

I would be lying outright if I say that I follow every procedure known to man to protect myself at my job. Much of the "what we're supposed to do" is just ridiculous and makes no practical sense. Although, in choosing to loosely interpret the rules for myself, I am fully aware that I increase my chance of chemical exposure or other laboratory accidents that could happen. Safety glasses are ugly, but when I need to wear them, I do. Lab coats are heavy and rather restraining, but when I need to wear them, I do. If for some reason, glass is flying across the lab, I get the heck out! When I chose this career, I took into account everything that goes along with it and accepted, wholeheartedly, that I might use chemicals that are known to cause cancer or birth defects or respiratory issues. That's something I'm willing to chance in order to better the future. What many people don't realize is that there are far worse things under my sink that I use to clean my apartment (and we all know I do that far too regularly). Chemicals are a part of life!

Well, friends, I feel it is time to step off the soap box and do some science. I am about to put a gel into ethidium bromide stain. In doing so, I run a risk of exposure to a chemical that is known to insert itself in between DNA base pairs and possibly render any future DNA replication awry. Not to mention, my kids might have three arms and two heads. But, I'll put on my good lab shoes, and some gloves, and make sure that I am careful when I put that gel into the stain and chances are, there won't be any problems at all.

Packfan - 4 - ever

It is not a great secret that I am a huge Packers fan. A fan, like many others, who could almost be described as rabid. And yes, as many of you have witnessed, one so superstitious that I wore the same gold underwear for every Packers game I was able to watch this past year (even to Mary's baby shower!).

If you follow sports even remotely, you have probably seem some headline about the great Packers quarterback, Brett Favre. In March, following a disappointing loss in the NFC championship (which I refuse to believe happened), he announced he would retire from the NFL after 17 seasons. I was devastated. How could he hang up his cleats after one of his best seasons and having been so close to another Super Bowl? (It also didn't help when someone told me it "would happen eventually", but that someone has since been forgiven and all is forgotten)...

Following this retirement announcement, I had time to reflect on my football fandom. There isn't a football memory of mine where I do not remember Favre being under center for the Packers. He started his consecutive games streak in 1992. I was 12 and in 7th grade. I remember a few Super Bowls before that, but I wasn't quite into sports like I am now. It was weird to think that my football life had revolved solely around one person for so long. I guess it's like the Steelers fans giving up Coach Cowher. A long time passing on...

Fast forward to July. Recently, it has become known that Favre would like to return to football. Some say he was pressured into retirement, some say he is just waffling. Regardless, I was excited at the prospect of having him back in the league as I have always felt he was a dynamic player of epic (ok, maybe not that great, but it sounded good) proportions. Fun to watch...entertaining...thrilling. I actually was with that same someone that I was with on the day he retired and we chatted about the prospect of his return.

That conversation took a look at both sides. On one hand, from Favre's perspective, it's hard to quit something that has been such a part of your life for so long. He can still play the game better than (easily) 60% of the starting QBs in the NFL. The Packers still have an excellent shot at going to the Super Bowl this year. Yeah, you might want to go out at the top of your game, but what if you got to that one more game this year that truly is the top? Although, on the other hand, I can also see the team's perspective. They want to move on (eventually) and would like to start that process. Ultimately, the team will not have Favre and regardless of this year, there will be a day when he is not the core of the team. So, I can see that with his intention to retire being an issue, they wanted to move on. (And Matt Flynn being cut, you LSU fans, is not a reason to not want Favre back...but I understand.)

As the drama continues to unfold, I am torn. I would love nothing more than Favre to return for his 17th season as a Packer and lead them to a Super Bowl victory and truly go out as the best. The Packers want the best team they can have and I think Favre is a better option than an unproven, perpetual backup. Yes, Rodgers needs a chance and he will get one, maybe this year. I believe the team has a point in wanting to move on and there's no better time to start on tomorrow, today.

To me, however, it seems only fair to at least let there be a competition for the starting job. If Favre wants to come back, truly (and he seems to), and the Packers do not want him to fall into the hands of a rival (which is where he could go), then put him in the green and gold and let him prove that he is committed to the game and willing to take whatever means necessary to bring the Lombardi Trophy home to Green Bay.

Disgusting is a 6-letter word

Which word, you ask? It's actually a name - Rascal. Rascal is a little boy piggy and little boy parts and grossness come with the territory. Time and again, I have lamented about the sticky residue on my carpet or the not-so-pleasant odor coming from the corner with the lamp. Well, my friends, nothing compares to what I experienced tonight.

A common affliction in older boars (males) is impaction. As the name implies, the bowel muscles become weak with age and, kindly putting it, things get stuck. One will then need to go in with a q-tip and clean out the bowels and give nature a little bit of assistance. Rascal is not really all that old in guinea pig life...approaching 3. He's a little young for traditional impaction and consequently, I had not really prepared myself for being nature's little helper just yet. Younger boars, when marking their territory or attracting mates, tend to drag their bottoms along while excreting their little boy juices (hence my sticky carpet residue and strong odors). Sometimes the excitement lasts a little too long and the stickiness dries up and leaves the little boy parts exposed.

Tonight, Rascal is sniffing around the front of his cage indicating he wants to get out and play. I pick him up and check his belly lumps for oozing (he has a few lumps that are common in pigs), which I do nightly. Imagine my surprise when I look down and find something was standing at attention and pointing right up at me! Figuring he was having a moment of piggy pleasure, I let him down for a minute or so, thinking it'll pass. Nope, no such luck. Upon further inspection, I realize that we have a situation of dire proportions. Not only did he manage to get his penis stuck, presumably from the above mentioned rituals, but he also must have tried to get it unstuck and it is now further complicated with poo and litter and other nasty elements. The poor thing isn't complaining or seemingly in any pain, although, friends, if I had a penis that purple, I'd be crying.

As fate would have it, my mother isn't around to sucker into giving Rascal a bath and I am left to my own devices to free Willy. The things that ensued, following the realization that Rascal had gotten himself stuck, really should never be thought of again and God willing, shall never occur again. Let's just say, following a nice soak in soapy warm water and a little bit of coersion, Willy is a normal pink color and seems to reside happily back where he belongs. I am not sure how complete my job was and intend to lather the little one up again once or twice more this week to ensure complete relief to his boy area. All in a day's work.

Stupid Sickness

This week has been absolute hell. Funny, considering it came on the tails of what was possibly the most awesome weekend ever! Monday afternoon, I became afflicted with a dull stomach cramping. Nothing too serious, but slightly bothersome to me later that evening after I had some trail mix in what should have been a prelude to actual food. Being a bit of a sickness pansy, I decided it best to curl up and get some sleep.

Tuesday rolls around...nothing out of the ordinary. Had coffee in the morning, went about my business. Jami and I got salad from Giant Eagle for lunch; my thinking that if I was in the early stages of a stomach bug, I wanted something relatively inane for lunch. (Side note: Jami had just gotten over a pretty nasty bug herself, so I had been trying preemptively strike against what she had all weekend...although, honestly, this was limited to Friday with copious amounts of alcohol). Lunch comes and goes and by late afternoon, the stomach cramping had reached a more noxious level. A nuisance, if you will. Since Tuesday is my run day, I refused to let my stomach win, so I took some Tylenol (I had eaten, so it should be ok) and went for the standard 2 miles.

Following my run, I head home and am greeted with what I consider the death and dying phase. Possibly, the running only accentuated the noxious stomach cramping, but by 7, I was pleading with Leah to come shoot me and put me out of my misery. I went so far as to bequeath her my purse collection and any of my clothing that she could wear (Mary, you can have my pants). I laid down, in complete and utter misery, for about three hours. Mind you, there has been no food consumption since lunch. After realizing how disgusting I still was from running, I decided to take a bath. I managed that, and even washed my hair, VERY carefully. Dried my hair and crawled back into bed.

Tuesday night was even worse than the death and dying phase. Trying to get back to sleep was awful...listened to my mp3 player for a good hour or so before I was even remotely close. I was curling up in fetal positions any which way to try and dull the pain. Every hour, at least, I woke up and honest to goodness, could feel the cramping moving along my gastrointestinal tract. I remember thinking, ooh, maybe it'll have moved a few inches along this time! There was even a point in the middle of the night that I laid out on my hallway floor (it's really cool right there and nice and supportive on my aching back).

Wednesday morning rolls around. Wednesday being the day of the Student Appreciation Luncheon at work. That being something, as the chair of the Social Committee, for which I really should be present. I email my boss and the secretaries and plan to head in around 10, which should give me another hour or so of sleep. I wasn't feeling all that bad at this point, but quite fatigued. Get into work and had completely forgotten the parking lot by my office was blocked for tree trimming. Pain in the ass. Thankfully, there was one space in the gravel lot left. If I had to walk from the chapel or community center, I was going home!

The picnic went well, thanks to much help from many people. Lord knows I would have passed out if I did too much of it on my own. I even dared to eat a piece of pizza and some homemade ice cream, figuring if I felt crappy, I could go home! Actually, the plan all along was to head home around 2, giving me a half-day at work and some more time to recuperate from the illness. I made it until 2:30, somewhat surprisingly, but after I picked up some things for Rascal, I came home.

Thankfully, things seem to have passed with my 5 hour naptime this afternoon. I even managed to do a load of laundry in there, having put it in before I went to sleep and hanging it out/drying one of the times I woke up (although I didn't actually run the dryer, so I just did that when I woke up at 9). And just now at 11pm, I felt hungry and had some cereal. It'll be a while until I want to fall asleep, but since things seem to be functioning correctly, I thought it safe to eat.

Well, friends, thank you for listening to my 48 hour horror that my boss seems to think is a result of food poisoning. After all, he is a doctor, of sorts. :)