So another year has passed. Time goes by so much faster the more you grow up. I don't care how old that makes me sound-but seriously, here I am in my early twenties, already graduated from college, and in my master's degree. It just seems like I've reached a point I thought I never would when I was a child.
I'm really hoping that 2007 is my best year yet. Every year has some ups and downs, and this was one was no exception. 2005 has been the best in recent memory, and 2004 sucked all around (except for the spring semester and the birth of my twin cousins). I'm grateful that even though every year has brought some disappointment, my family and I remained in good health, and that I have their support. I think every year is still great as long as I have those two things :)
I have some goals for the new year: not resolutions, mind you. It just makes sense for me to make up goals for the next semester at this time. They are just general goals to guide me through the next semester and maybe further-nothing like "quit smoking" or "work out every single day," the kind of resolutions that inevitably fail two weeks after you make them. The goals I have set are personal (as in, I'm not going to write about it in a public forum), educational (mainly do a good job on my research and work hard on my thesis, which is currently 16 pages), and recreational. I'm really looking forward to this new year's. I hope it lives up to my expectations.
Well, I hope everyone has a happy (and SAFE) New Year's! Talk to you again in 2007!
So all year I was so proud of the fact that I'd only gotten sick once-and then, it was just a weenie little cold that lasted two or three days. And guess what? 2 days before the year ends, I wake up with a sore throat. And now I can barely breathe. THANKS COLD. The sickness is running around my family and everyone is pointing fingers. I am usually quite healthy so I was excused from guilt quickly. We think it's Patrick since he got sick first. Thanks loser.
Speaking of Pat, I think he refractured my arm (I fractured it ten years ago in a very stupid accident that I will not relate here). I know that sounds bad but consider the facts:
1. We had gotten into one of our friendly shove/punching fights, so no harm was intended (well...not in a mean-spirited way at least.)
2. The fracture I received ten years ago was just a hairline fracture, which means there was minor swelling and little pain. By the time I'd gotten the x-rays and the doctor's visits, the stupid fracture had pretty much healed itself. My arm doesn't hurt at all-just a little sore and swollen sometimes, like it was ten years ago. In other words-just another weenie injury that is not bothering me and that will heal itself.
In other random news:
1. I watched An American Haunting and it sort of sucked. Actually it was mildly decent until the shitty editing near the conclusion. You're not missing much. I watched Saved with Pat, and that is a much better movie. It's even funnier because I know people who are like the characters in the movie.
2. I bought this Mensa Mind Obstacle Course book at Half Price because part of me wishes I could really be an undiscovered genius. I'll be happy with "above average." I got kind of tired of doing the puzzles (hey, I'm sick), so this revelation will have to wait until tomorrow.
3. So Saddam got executed. Hmm. I don't have any strong feelings on the subject. I felt like he deserved to pay for his crimes but this is not an issue that I'm wildly passionate about. I think Osama's capture and execution will be more satisfying.
1. Last night, when we were watching TV, Pat and I lost the remote. He thought he'd left it somewhere in the kitchen or the office, so we picked up Harry and went for out quiet search in the dark, since our parents were already asleep. While Patrick was searching in the kitchen, he knocked over and broke one of my mom's Santa salt shakers. About two minutes after this happened, I bumped into the office door (very loudly) because it was SO DARK y'all, and the small amount of Bailey's that I had may/may not have had anything to do with it. When we returned to his room, we discovered the remote underneath his shirt on the bed.
2. I left my paper clips on my dad's desk.
3. I unload the dishes from the dishwasher too loudly.
Santa was very good to me this year. I got an 8 gb ipod nano! It's black, so I named him Nero. No prententious names like Chlotilde or anything. I was really excited because I've always wanted an ipod but never wanted to ask my parents for one. So they are really awesome for getting me one. It's so teeny, so I can work out with it. I think everyone liked their gifts, too. Patrick got me this cute little monkey speaker that I can hook up to my ipod. I got my dad the Whose Line Is It Anyway? dvd and I bought my mom this really pretty dress. I got Patrick a signed Dat Nguyen memoir for his birthday and a volume of the Super Mario Bros. Super Show.
We all had a nice day together. We went to watch Night at the Museum. Screw the critics, that movie rocked. Then we ate out at dinner. I'm really enjoying my time with my family while I can, because after this break, I won't be back home until summer!
So much that I want to say, but this is an inappropriate venue to say it. I'll leave it at that.
So I'll just say goodnight, and Merry Christmas.
Today was one of those deliciously productive days. I had a doctor's appointment in the morning. After an early lunch, Pat and I headed back outside to the garage for round 2 of Cleaning the Garage Extravaganza 2006. This time, my dad said that we had to be done today. Our work was spent sifting through our belongings junk and making sure we really, really didn't need to keep it. My test was that if I or my future children wouldn't care about the item in question in twenty years, it was getting tossed out. I actually threw a lot of stuff out. I felt proud of myself, because I have the capacity to keep almost anything. I'm entirely too sentimental for my own good. About the only items that I've never had any trouble throwing away were mementos from doomed relationships. Hehe. Anyway, we got the garage looking decent, with my father saying that when I move out, he'll be able to get rid of at least half the boxes. I can't believe I accumulated that much crap over 22 years. And I especially can't believe that I was able to fit it all in my old bitty room.
My brother and I were really excited about finding our old telescope. When we were little, we weren't allowed to use it by ourselves. So over the years, we kind of just forgot about it. I took the telescope out tonight but was chagrined that I couldn't get it working. I couldn't see a thing through the lens. I'll have to try again tomorrow night.
I'd really like to get into astronomy. When I was seven, I went through two major science phases: dinosaurs and astronomy. In Summer 2005, I was able to visit the observatory on campus and see Jupiter; seeing a planet had been a lifelong dream of mine, so I can't tell you how giddy I was to be able to fulfill it. I felt like I was seven again. I was so excited and scared at the same time. There's something so frightening and thrilling about being able to look into a lens and see an object that is millions and millions of miles away from where you are. Of course, it didn't look anything like the Hubble images, more like this:
I was able to see some moons too. Just seeing images like that and gorgeous pictures of nebulas
remind me how fucking awesome science is. I can't see how people cannot like it. I hope I can live long enough to experience all aspects of the world I live in and the worlds I will never see up close.
Tonight I also worked on my thesis. It's great; reading the research enables me to understand the small details of it, like why I add 200 microliters of ortho-phosphoric acid to the supernatant before the SPE. I also see the small areas I can improve my experiment. I really want to produce a terrific thesis for Dr. A.
Well, I think I'll go relax now, I'm exhausted.
Sometimes I go through periods of time where I just want to blog, and days where I don't even want my most meaningless details written about for strangers to read about. I struggle with that sometimes. I know that there are people out there that I don't want reading this, and who are anyway. But I still get the last laugh, because do you think I'm putting important shit in here? The really important details in my life-what I'm really feeling, thinking, and believing-is not going to be written down for complete strangers and those who left my life a long time ago to read. That's what private entries are for :) Or just complete privacy in general. Well, enough of that. I just wanted to get that off my chest.
This vacation has been just what I needed, though my thesis looms over me. Yesterday I dreamt about my thesis. Yes, dreamt about it. I'm trying not to think about my inevitable return to the lab. The experiment itself is not bad, just the long SPE process must be dealt with. I'll think about it when I have to.
I've really enjoyed myself so far, though. For two days, I went with my mom to her school and spoke to some classrooms about my experiments and environmental engineering in general. Jesus, I love kids. I'm not kidding. I can't wait until the day when I can be a mother-I know it's hard work, yada yada yada, but talk about rewarding. Those kids were so smart and asking so many awesome questions. One of the classes grilled me for twenty minutes about bacteria (I worked with bacteria and bioremediation in a previous project from summer 2005). Another student asked me about genetically modified foods-a fourth grader (!) I found that a lot of them knew what centrifuges were from CSI. And of course, when their attention spans wander, the questions that popped up were endlessly amusing-"How old are you? How old is your mom? Are you married? Do you have friends? Did you know the pattern of your dress can look like different kinds of bacteria?"
We picked Pat up from Austin on Monday. We've been having fun. Today, my dad gave us a task that is the worst imaginable for two pack rats-throwing out our belongings junk we don't need from boxes before they go into the attic. It wasn't that bad, though. I threw a lot more away than Pat did, anyway (then again, I have more stuff). We got distracted a lot though. I found some old cassette tapes that my brother and I had made when we were little. They were comedy sketches for our show called You're Driving Me Crazy (we would even sing the 90's song "You Drive Me Crazy" at the end of each). I absolutely hate hearing myself from when I was younger because I had such a high-pitched voice and was generally way too hyper for my own good (though I found out from watching a video of myself in Italy that I was rocking an East Coast accent. What happened to that?)
So Pat and I wrestled over the tapes, since he wanted to hear it. He won, but I put up a really good fight. Then, we started running around our yard and across the street singing "We Belong" and reenacting the last scenes in Talledega Nights. Yeah, I'm 22 and he's almost 19, so what? But we made the mistake of running in front of our house, so my dad came out and told us to get back to work.
I guess this is all I want to write about today. I'm excited about the title release for the HP book. If only an actual announcement can be made about the release date... Ok I'm going to go now, for realz.
It is a nice feeling. I really needed to get out of Cowboy Country. It's good to know that I can hold off on the experiments until I return on January 7th. Between the arguments with my coworker, the incredibly slow SPE process, and my centrifuge tube mix up two weeks ago, I needed to leave it behind for a little while. The centrifuge tube mixup wasn't that big of a deal in the end; it just pissed off my coworker, made me look like a dumbass and somewhat unreliable, and as an added bonus, my dad still teases me about it. I'm too awesome for words sometime. I hope my groundbreaking thesis can make up for being scatterbrained. Well, not groundbreaking. But hopefully awesome.
I've spent the last two days relaxing with my parents. Patrick doesn't come home until tomorrow, so for the first time in 19 years, I remember what it's like to be the only child. HA. Of course I'm excited for Patrick to come home tomorrow. Maybe.
Right now Puppita is asleep on the couch. I was actually working on my thesis, because I do NOT want to return back to school with nothing. It's coming along okay so far. I need to work on my anticipated results. I have three weeks to do it. I figure if I start now, I'll have enough for Dr. A when I return.
One of our neighbors has dachshunds and I fell in love with her five-month old red dachshund puppy, Benson. He reminds me of Max and is pretty much the cutest dog ever. Besides Harry. Except that Benson is friendly and calm, something Harry isn't. He was crawling on my lap and giving me a bunch of kisses, even though his owner said that Benson wasn't the kissy type of dog. If I were the criminal type, I would have kidnapped Benson. Hehe. I think it's a good thing that dogs aren't allowed where I live, or else I would have two little ones already.
I don't feel like writing anything anymore.
At least the past couple of days have been. Yesterday I was in the lab for a cumulative 12 hours. It kind of sucked, mostly because I would mess up on something and have to start over again. The SPE part of it is kicking my ass because it TAKES SO LONG. And the other grad student I work with needs to use it too, so I'm getting rushed and I only produced three samples today. No bueno. Neither was the interaction between me and the grad student today. We got along great until we started working together in the lab. He means well, but he micromanages and lectures me about things that aren't even my fault. If I have questions, I definitely don't have problems asking (and he knows it). But otherwise, let me work because I can't stand people staring at me when I work, waiting for me to make a mistake. So we had an argument this morning, and at one point I just stopped what I was doing and left because I was about to lose my temper. He sent me an email later apologizing, so I'm going to work with him and compromise our differences. I notice that when I feel like I'm being attacked, I get really aggressive. I should probably work on being more touchy-feely. I have a hard time doing that though. If I am pissed off about something, it is very hard for me to hide it. Anyhoo, I hope today was our last argument, because arguing with co-workers suck.
Today I went out to lunch with one of my friends and her classmates, and then we headed over to Dr. K's memorial service. A lot of people showed up, which made me happy. They had a slideshow at the beginning of pictures of him with his plane, girlfriend, and nephew. Any slideshow like that always gets to me, and this was no exception. One of my classmates gave one of the eulogies, and I think he did a really good job expressing what was so great about Dr. K. You know how when a person dies, people are compelled to come up with nice things to say about him? Not in this case. If you had asked my opinion about him last week, it'd be the same as this week's: he was a hilarious, very caring person.
Memorial services are never fun to go to. A. Obviously someone you cared about is being honored at one, and B. it makes you question your own mortality. Unfortunately, such is life. What sucks even more is that after a rough patch, Dr. K was really having a good time-he was with the person he wanted to marry, and he just made tenure ten days ago. Everything was looking up, and bam. It's never fair. But at least he left Earth having made a positive impact. He was adored by many students. And even if I didn't have a close relationship with him like some of my other classmates, it is because of one of his presentations in class that made me want to join the USPHS. I know he will not be forgotten.
In other news. I'm going home soon, and I'm really excited. I have to work on my thesis though when I'm home, but that's ok, because I don't want to be a total bum and have nothing to show Dr. A when I return. I found out I made an A in Biological Processes, so that was pretty awesome. Getting an A in Chemical Processes would be the icing on the cake, but the final was pretty effing hard. I'm not sure where I stand. I don't see myself getting lower than a B, though. But I want an A.
We-ell, I have some more things to finish up here, so ta-ta for now.
I completed a good deal of work today:
-Hydrogeology final (wasn't too bad for the lack amount of studying I did for it)
-Nap because I suck with 5 hours of sleep
-Shopping completed for Christmas gifts!
-Did preparations in lab for experiment tomorrow (acid washed 10 or so bottles, prepared acids, autoclaved water, and finally figured out why the stupid SPE wasn't working for me during the weekend. As tedious as the lab can be, I prefer being in there than having to sit down and read something for school)
-Did laundry
-Cleaned and made everything look human again
-Watched Mean Girls
-Made fun of my brother because he still has finals
Well, off to shower and sleep, because I have a busy day tomorrow. I have to finish my experiments before the afternoon since Ludwig needs the SPE, then meet with Dr. A. I still have to apologize for the mix-up on Friday, but I held off since I didn't feel it'd be appropriate in light of Dr. K's death. Which has everyone really bummed out including me :(
This morning when I arrived for my 620 final, my professor came in and appeared very upset. He gave us the option of not taking the test because one of our professors, Dr. K, had died over the weekend.
The class was shocked. I took the final, since I hadn't heard of the news before and felt like I'd be copping out (kind of wish I hadn't taken it...it was rough. Besides the point though). All while taking it, I couldn't stop thinking about the news. He was young, in his forties. He was my professor for 402 last Fall. Andres and I loved that class, because Dr. K was such a cool guy. We could always get him going off on his "rants." He cared about us; his final was difficult, but he all made sure we passed with good grades. I'll never forget the time when I was the only one in my class to raise my hand for liking Pink Floyd, and named some of their later albums. "No, no, no!" he cried, and wrote on the board, "All good Pink Floyd albums are on vinyl."
I saw Dr. K just last week. First, when I turned in my abstract for a conference, we chatted briefly. Then, last Tuesday, he flagged me down and gave me slices of pizza, even though they were for his current students. He was always just a cool guy like that.
It always seems like whenever you are becoming self-absorbed and start forgetting how lucky you are, something like this happens. His death in a plane crash this weekend reminds me how fragile life is. It's so weird to think someone I saw last week, healthy and happy, is dead. He was a cool guy. I was lucky to have him as a professor, and was looking forward to taking his course next semester. RIP, Dr. K. You will be missed.
