Bejing and the Olympics

I caught the tail end of the story on NBC news tonight about the image that the Chinese government is trying to portray during the Olympics this year. But I heard the dress code:

No pajamas

No white socks with black shoes

And no more than 3 colors at the same time.

What the hell?!

And then they showed hundreds of very young Chinese girls learning how to smile perfectly so they can be "pleasing servants" for Olympic visitors. Yeah... now that's going to portray the right image to Westerners.

Mystery of the Hyde Park Santa

Every Tuesday night I hope I can stay up late enough to see him. He comes on Tuesday. Because it's Trash Day Eve. So far I stayed up late enough only once, but he was so swift and silent in his visit that I didn't notice he came through.

He's old like Santa, and he carries big sacks of stuff on his back like Santa, but he's not really Santa because he doesn't bring gifts. He's the one who takes all the cans out of recycling bins. I've seen other neighborhood santas. Some of them carry the sacks. Some push the carts from Kroger. I imagine it's a full-time job being a neighborhood santa. It's also a job that requires a lot of walking, and I feel bad when I see one of them who doesn't walk too well. I guess most of them don't really walk well, and might be better suited for a sit-down job. Anyway, I haven't seen ours yet. I cut myself on a can last night, smooshing them for him so he could fit more into his sack. Maybe tonight will be the night.

Idea for a TV Show

Okay, first, you get a bunch of dumb Americans who've led sad, crappy lives, who finally found something - a talent or a skill - they think they're good at. Next, (and here's the kicker!) you bring in a mean and nasty British dude who yells at them and criticizes them when they screw up.

It'll be hilarious!

Jeopardy

It wasn't even a Celebrity Jeopardy...

The category was "Elemental my Dear Watson" and the question was, "This element, used as a fuel propellant in some spacecraft, is also found in some luxury car headlights."

And the dude rang in and said, "What is Halogen?"

HA!!!!!!!!! HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!

Thesis

Hardbound copies of my thesis were finally delivered the other day. I'd honestly forgotten about them when they came, and started playing, "Guess the Present" with the unopened package for a while - shaking it, feeling how heavy it was, reading all the words on the box, etc., after carrying it in from my doorstep. What a let-down when I opened the box.

Anyway, it's nice to see everything in print, looking professional. B and G agreed it's customary to send one copy to your thesis advisor, as a thank-you present, or something. I guess it's a tradition. But all the ones I'd seen on my advisor's shelves were printed paper copies held together by those plastic binder rings. Maybe his shelf is telling... how his "style" (if you can even call it style) of advising involves completely ignoring his students during their final six months or so prior to their defense because he has no advice or job contacts.

I will never forget the meeting he scheduled with me about six weeks before my defense. He began, "You have no job offers yet, so what is it you're doing wrong?"

He never even offered to keep me on as a postdoc, for financial security alone. I was unemployed for FOUR LONG MONTHS. No paychecks. Nothing. I had to buy my own health insurance. And I'm supposed to send this guy a bound copy of my thesis that cost me ~$100 to print?!

I just talked myself out of it. Thanks, Blogspot. The book's mine.

Awkward Office Moments Part 1

A coworker came in to return a DVD I'd loaned him over the weekend, and B turned around to see what we were talking about.

"I lent him this movie to watch. It's one of my favorites. If you ever want to borrow it, just let me know." And before I even told him the title of the movie, B said, "Yeah... I probably won't have time."

I need my own house.

I played music for the first time in my house tonight, through my living room DVD player/TV and I turned it way, way up, so that I could hear it from the kitchen, and I was feeling good and singing loud and rolling out my pie crusts and generally being happy. I was having a good voice day.

My phone rang, and it was my upstairs 30-something shut-in of a neighbor, asking me to turn my music down.

And it crushed me. And now I feel like a poop.

It was Indigo Girls, of all bands, and I'm pretty sure she's one of "those" types. Figured she wouldn't mind how loud it was. But her girlfriend is over so maybe it interrupted a lingerie pillow fight.

Car-Dreaming

The janitor came in our office at 6:00 to empty our trash cans and we got to talking. Eventually he asked if I was married or a mom. When I told him I was neither, he said, "Well, you probably don't want to have kids soon. Gotta get established first. Some women'd wait 5, 6, 7 years before they have kids."


On the drive home tonight, I was thinking about 5, 6, 7 years of not having kids. 60, 72, 84 months. 84 would-have-been people. 84 half people. People who will never be created. People who will never live. They were all girls. One of them had Nanny's big brown eyes. Most of them had blue. One was platinum blonde, and one was blind. One of them had eleven toes. One of them was autistic. One was a mathematical genius. One had Jennifer's nose. And voice. Most of them were small, but one grew up to be very tall. One had perfectly straight bright white teeth. A lot of them had my temper. One had mom's dimple, in the middle of her right cheek. One was painfully, heartbreakingly shy, like Grampa used to be. A few had Nanny's legs, the way they looked when she was a teenager, before all the bruises and atrophy, before she needed surgery and skin grafts on her shin. One of them needed glasses as a toddler. I hope she would've outgrown it. One was dyslexic. One wore a size 6 shoe.


And now I'm just thinking... How fortunate we all are. What are the chances, you know? And I'm thinking that I'm so glad that my sisters and I were the few who came out alive.

Olympix

I was watching the women's one mile run trial and I swear I did not see a single boob on any of the runners. I don't think any of those twigs get their period. Ever. Also, the winner ran a 4:05 mile.

Happy Birthday, America!

There aren't any really good fireworks displays around here so instead I wanted to celebrate by watching Team America again. But I just can't bring myself to rent the DVD from Blockbuster for the 6th time. I should've just bought it the first time.

Maybe my neighbors will set off some Roman candles or something.

World's Most Annoying Noises

For the love of God, please just sneeze. Don't repeatedly gasp for air, cover your face, and then make that inhuman and anticlimactic stifled hiccup/growl/snort noise because you're trying to hold in a sneeze.

And if I can hear your throat muscles squeezing down each and every gulp of coffee you're swallowing, you drink things the wrong way.

And if I'd had an audio recorder today, to replay the surround-sound symphony of whistling noses, I would've uploaded the file and posted it on Youtube and gotten a thousand hits plus a record deal. Because damn. It was unreal.

I am a 12 year old boy.

I was off-site for a short course yesterday and today. By 3:00 this afternoon, my attention span started failing and my mind drifted off somewhere wonderful when I was abruptly brought back into the classroom because a woman behind me asked the professor, "Do you know how far it penetrates? Have you done any penetration studies to measure how far the penetration goes?"

I had to cover my mouth and think sad thoughts so I didn't explode with laugher. Then I started making a list of all the commonly used terms in chemistry that make me extremely uncomfortable:

1. Penetration
2. Cleavage
3. Slit
4. Stopcock
5. Bung
6. Roots Blower
7. Orifice
8. Aperture
9. Ball-and-Stick Model

...Come to think of it, I feel like I've blogged about this before.