17.27.13
That's the combination to my lock, so help yourself to the goodies in my locker.
Sorry about the totally misleading title. Actually I'm not sorry. Unfulfilled expectations suck, don't they?
14 November 2007
Locker room fun
That's the combination to my lock, so help yourself to the goodies in my locker.
Sorry about the totally misleading title. Actually I'm not sorry. Unfulfilled expectations suck, don't they?
9 November 2007
The Ex-flatmate Boston experience
With no signs of my misery disappearing, I thought I'd reflect on less depressing times. As mentioned previously, Ex-flatmate's recent visit was a highlight of my Boston existence so far.
Here are some highlights of the Ex-flatmate Boston visit:
- Chatting and just hanging out again. Poor Ex-flatmate. During his stay he had to cop a fair bit of complaining and venting from me. I haven't really had a chance to chat on such a personal level over here so it all kinda spewed out during our late night conversations. Gotta love those beer-induced existential crisis chats.
- Our trip to Maine for some 'leaf peeping'. For the uninitiated, leaf peeping is the raunchy act of going into the wilderness to see all the pretty autumn/fall foliage. Bradbury forest offered spectacular peak Fall viewing while Casco Bay at Wolfe's Neck Woods was more about quiet waterfront serenity than foliage. The Woods also gets the prestigious award for Best Bathroom at a State Park, it was surprisingly well-equipped (flushing toilet, hand-dryers) and impeccably clean, plus any park bathroom that doesn't smell like my incontinent Grandma's favourite armchair gets an enthusiastic thumbs up.
- On the freeway from Maine to Boston, we got a flat tyre that we embarrassingly didn't know how to change. To be fair, I did know the theory behind it but was foiled in practice by being unable to loosen the wheel nuts that initiates the whole process. The State Trooper that arrived at the scene, and who was obviously less than impressed with our tyre-changing inadequacies, gave me the tip to kick the tyre-iron to loosen the lugs. Oh yeah, turning the tyre-iron the correct way (counter-clockwise) to actually loosen the nuts was also sage advice.
- Dinner at Legal's Seafood after the Maine trip. If you go to Legal's, definitely go for their famous New England clam chowder and their banana and rum dessert.
- Ex-flatmate missing his flight and being forced to stay in Boston another night. Although it was an ultra-stressfest for Ex-flatmate, it was actually a fortuitous event since it allowed us to visit Matt Murphy's pub that night. I highly recommend the little Brookline Village pub. We went for the live music and weren't disappointed. Till closing time, we drunk tasty Harpoon Seasonal Ales, Speckled Hens, and enjoyed grooving to the funky/boogaloo sounds of B3 Kings. The band was solid and pumping all-round, but as a guitar player wannabe, I was particularly blown away with the amazing noodling of the lead guitarist.
Matt Murphy's is a small, intimate and stylishly dark pub with the most stressful bathroom location, ever. It's a one-person restroom (dunny in Aussie-speak) located right behind where the band plays. Getting to the dunny is the rookie part (just wait for a gap in songs, although that night their songs just seemed to flow to the next...), but exiting the bathroom successfully requires critical timing. A poorly executed bathroom break could end you trapped behind the band until you're brave enough and/or there's a sufficient break in the long set to drunkenly pick your way through the tangle of leads, amps, and musos in order to reach the safety of your seat. Oh, did I mention that the audience is eye-balling your every move during all this? But don't let the requirement of having a Bladder of Fortitude +10 put you off from Matt Murphy's. The music, ambiance and beer is well worth it.
- Ex-flatmate receiving his honorary doctorate from the esteemed centre of higher learning that is the Boston Beer Works. Although having received no formal training in chemistry, fluid dynamics, or any post-high school science whatsoever, Ex-flatmate's dissertation (scribbled on the table with beer and finger) on why the blueberries in his Blueberry Beer kept oscillating up and down his glass was, as far as I could understand, top notch (it involved some scientific mumbo-jumbo about gas bubbles collecting and dissipating on the blueberries affecting their buoyancy). True to the Scientific Method, it required a lot of beer drinking to test and validate his hypothesis on "The Entropic States of Ales and Lagers: A study on blueberry z-axis kinetics", which probably explained why we were the last two patrons to stumble out of the Works that night.
With current events seemingly stuck in a downward spiral it's hard to justify plodding along the path fate/luck/destiny/randomness has given, and knowing what really makes me happy is difficult to pin down. Sitting here, reminiscing, I remember lounging in the afternoon sun, watching squirrels, watching people, watching life tick past, chatting with a mate in the park. That's happiness.
Here are some highlights of the Ex-flatmate Boston visit:
- Chatting and just hanging out again. Poor Ex-flatmate. During his stay he had to cop a fair bit of complaining and venting from me. I haven't really had a chance to chat on such a personal level over here so it all kinda spewed out during our late night conversations. Gotta love those beer-induced existential crisis chats.
- Our trip to Maine for some 'leaf peeping'. For the uninitiated, leaf peeping is the raunchy act of going into the wilderness to see all the pretty autumn/fall foliage. Bradbury forest offered spectacular peak Fall viewing while Casco Bay at Wolfe's Neck Woods was more about quiet waterfront serenity than foliage. The Woods also gets the prestigious award for Best Bathroom at a State Park, it was surprisingly well-equipped (flushing toilet, hand-dryers) and impeccably clean, plus any park bathroom that doesn't smell like my incontinent Grandma's favourite armchair gets an enthusiastic thumbs up.
- On the freeway from Maine to Boston, we got a flat tyre that we embarrassingly didn't know how to change. To be fair, I did know the theory behind it but was foiled in practice by being unable to loosen the wheel nuts that initiates the whole process. The State Trooper that arrived at the scene, and who was obviously less than impressed with our tyre-changing inadequacies, gave me the tip to kick the tyre-iron to loosen the lugs. Oh yeah, turning the tyre-iron the correct way (counter-clockwise) to actually loosen the nuts was also sage advice.
- Dinner at Legal's Seafood after the Maine trip. If you go to Legal's, definitely go for their famous New England clam chowder and their banana and rum dessert.
- Ex-flatmate missing his flight and being forced to stay in Boston another night. Although it was an ultra-stressfest for Ex-flatmate, it was actually a fortuitous event since it allowed us to visit Matt Murphy's pub that night. I highly recommend the little Brookline Village pub. We went for the live music and weren't disappointed. Till closing time, we drunk tasty Harpoon Seasonal Ales, Speckled Hens, and enjoyed grooving to the funky/boogaloo sounds of B3 Kings. The band was solid and pumping all-round, but as a guitar player wannabe, I was particularly blown away with the amazing noodling of the lead guitarist.
Matt Murphy's is a small, intimate and stylishly dark pub with the most stressful bathroom location, ever. It's a one-person restroom (dunny in Aussie-speak) located right behind where the band plays. Getting to the dunny is the rookie part (just wait for a gap in songs, although that night their songs just seemed to flow to the next...), but exiting the bathroom successfully requires critical timing. A poorly executed bathroom break could end you trapped behind the band until you're brave enough and/or there's a sufficient break in the long set to drunkenly pick your way through the tangle of leads, amps, and musos in order to reach the safety of your seat. Oh, did I mention that the audience is eye-balling your every move during all this? But don't let the requirement of having a Bladder of Fortitude +10 put you off from Matt Murphy's. The music, ambiance and beer is well worth it.
- Ex-flatmate receiving his honorary doctorate from the esteemed centre of higher learning that is the Boston Beer Works. Although having received no formal training in chemistry, fluid dynamics, or any post-high school science whatsoever, Ex-flatmate's dissertation (scribbled on the table with beer and finger) on why the blueberries in his Blueberry Beer kept oscillating up and down his glass was, as far as I could understand, top notch (it involved some scientific mumbo-jumbo about gas bubbles collecting and dissipating on the blueberries affecting their buoyancy). True to the Scientific Method, it required a lot of beer drinking to test and validate his hypothesis on "The Entropic States of Ales and Lagers: A study on blueberry z-axis kinetics", which probably explained why we were the last two patrons to stumble out of the Works that night.
With current events seemingly stuck in a downward spiral it's hard to justify plodding along the path fate/luck/destiny/randomness has given, and knowing what really makes me happy is difficult to pin down. Sitting here, reminiscing, I remember lounging in the afternoon sun, watching squirrels, watching people, watching life tick past, chatting with a mate in the park. That's happiness.
7 November 2007
You go squish now
You might have gathered from my previous post that things really are crap for me at the moment. Life, job, love...many things. Blogging about it is pointless so I won't. Supportive friends have cheered me up somewhat. Beer is also good, although chocolate is better. The following clip also gave me a giggle. On many different levels, it resonates with my existence at the moment.
2 November 2007
Friday vent
The reasons are many, but lately I've been in a state of melancholy. Gripes? Factors that are particularly pissing me off? I've got plenty, here's a sample.
- My pay, or rather, being underpaid. What do you think the salary of a postdoc in biological science should be? Keep in mind that postdocs have the highest academic qualification possible (Ph.D), are the work horses of US labs, and are doing a job to advance scientific discovery, a discovery that in the future may benefit your precious health. For example, thanks to medical science you no longer face a hideous death from smallpox, so I don't want to read any more shit about scientists being evil because we use animals in research or do things like genetic engineering. I don't want to hear people complaining that we don't have a cure for cancer already. Science is fucking hard OK?, this shit takes time so back the fuck off. If you're one of those people having a go at science and aren't a scientist or don't know a scientist, then you probably have no accurate idea what scientific research is about anyway, so in addition to fucking off, shut the fuck up. So back to my question, what's the salary of a postdoc? Well an entry level postdoc in the US gets the princely sum of around $37,000 per annum (before tax; according to government guidelines). Constantly working weekends, major job instability, the frustration of experiments constantly failing, that's the existence of a typical postdoc. All for what? not even 40-fucking K to live off. Pathetic.
- Myself, for being too lazy to go to the gym this week. Plus me overall, but let's leave the self-obsessed deconstructive loathe-fest until next time shall we?
- Overpriced piss-water Starbucks coffee.
Starsucks by www.organique.com (top) and Kieron Dwyer’s take on Starbucks (bottom). - Cold weather.
- The lack of hold that is provided by my hair gel and the fact that I can't find the brand I used to use in Sydney. Don't roll your eyes, I'm gay, I've got the bloody right to bitch about meaningless shit like this.
- The slow death of my African violet. I water you, give you light, provide a moderate temperature, why are you dying?!
- Having no idea what my future career will be. Do I stay in science or bail already?
- My cell phone constantly having crappy reception. While I'm at it, a big fuck you to Verizon for making me put down a freaking $400 deposit just so I have the privilege of getting a shit-house cell phone with your glorious network. All because I don't have a credit history in the US. What bullshit. Fuckers.
- Having to work out the fucking tip at bars and restaurants. I've had 8 beers already and now you're making me do fucking maths? It's insane.
- American spelling, the way the day/month order is switched and the use of Imperial measurement in the US.
Seriously, why the fuck is arguably the most powerful nation on this piss-ant planet still not using the metric system? and don't spout the bullshit about it costing too much to convert the US to metric. If the US can afford $720 million per day on killing people in Iraq and Afghanistan (or half a million bucks per minute, with a projected cost of $2.4 trillion in ten years), then surely, metric conversion is attainable. - My constant misspelling of "Ex-flatemate" in a whole bunch of old posts, which I've now tried to correct.
- This whinging nothing of a post.
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