Cream Of Wheat - Good For What Ails You

Yesterday I made the most beautiful protein standard curve ever. It was so beautiful. I doubt the subsequent Western will be nearly as beautiful. But oh well.

More tough love in lab today as my very brilliant engineer colleague practiced his job talk. There was humor, too, though. Even The Man was jokingly self-referential.

Got rather drunk last night and I thought, when I woke up this morning feeling icky, that I was just hungover. Which I was, but on top of that I think I also have the cold that felled my lab-mate last week. The first stage of a cold, before the really drippy nose and sore throat, is not totally unpleasant. The fever haze gives everything an interesting, fuzzy, inconsequential cast. I didn't think I was hungry this morning, either, but then I had a cup of vanilla cream of wheat with strawberries and muesli and it was seriously the most amazingly satisfying thing I have ever eaten.

There was much drunken trash talking after dinner last night on economists in general and Larry Summers in particular. I hope I didn't "hold forth" too much - those who have seen me drunk will know that alcohol sometimes impedes my ability not to express my every thought on a subject.

We also learned last evening, with the help of the inter-web, that Denmark is a really weird place. The Danish will refuse to discuss all personal topics, finances, or sensitive political matters with acquaintences, and ahbor compliments, but feel free to walk around naked and read porn on the bus.

Not Danish Person: So, did you get a good deal on your mortgage?
Danish Person: I would prefer to discuss with you the Danish culture.
NDP: Um, oh. How about that Little Mermaid statue? That's nice.
DP: Yes, it is nice. I admire the breasts on that statue. I masturbate frequently with that statue in mind. Have you had a satisfactory orgasm lately?
NDP: Wow. Um, well, I went to Amsterdam last month . . .
DP: I often think of the Little Mermaid when I make love to my wife.
NDP: How is your wife these days?
DP: I cannot comment on my wife, other to say that her labia resemble those of an acclaimed Danish adult film actress.
NDP: Oh, sorry . . . Uh . . . That's a nice coat.
DP: You are so rude! Why don't you go back to your own country?
NDP: Well, I would but I'm loving the socialized medicine here. And I can't get enough of those apricot Roses of the Prophet Muhammed.

Half Naked Under My Lab Coat

Of course, I was outside today during the two intervals of inclement weather - rain, and then rain plus wind plus hail. To the extent that my shirt (and ass of jeans) were soaked through. Thus I am drying my blouse on the back of a chair and wearing only my lab coat. Plus a scarf, draped over my shoulders, because it's cold in here. Weird day. That's what I get for popping out to get my eyebrows done over lunch. But if you'd seen my eyebrows, you'd understand the necessity.

Goodbye to long weekends away from the bench! I did an siRNA transfection today with the Amazing Japanese Post-doc. I am hoping her luck/skill will have transferred onto me. But I think (touch wood) that I am being a better experimentationalista lately, so . . .

Q: Is it awful to not want to watch news about the Sudan? Also, if Sam Brownback is concerned about Darfur, does that make him less of an evil wanker?

From Salon.com - Aw Yeah!

Women win against Wal-Mart

Breaking news: In the battle between Massachusetts women seeking emergency contraception and Wal-Mart pharmacies, the score is now women 1, Wal-Mart 0.

According to an article just released by the Associated Press, "two weeks after three women sued Wal-Mart in [Massachusetts] state court for failing to carry the so called 'morning after' pill in its Wal-Mart and Sam's Club stores in the state," today the Massachusetts Board of Health has voted to require the retailer to stock the drug in each of its pharmacies in the state.

The suit is not the first time Wal-Mart has come under fire for its conservative policies regarding contraception; indeed, until now, the only state in which the retailer stocked emergency contraception was Illinois, where it is required by law.
It may be depressingly slow progress, but now at least it seems that one more state will be added to that list. The AP reports that Wal-Mart has until Thursday "to provide written compliance," and Dan Fogleman, a spokesman for the company, says the chain intends to respect the court's orders.

-- Sarah Karnasiewicz

Another Silly Test Thingy

~or~
I'll do you if you do me.

So, I saw this "Johari Window" thingy on BitchPhD so, of course, I did it too. Come on, tell me what you really think of me . . .

Happy Stupid Valentine's Day everyone. Brookburg, don't you have a present for me?

Not A Terrible Scientist Today

Not having a functioning computer makes one a much more productive scientist, since the web browsing hours are severely curtailed. I've been toting my external hard drive around like an itenerant for two weeks or so now.

A new leaf has been turned over here in adhesion and motility land. The worm has turned ... no longer is the worm of doubt munching on the leaf of progress ... instead it is turning into a beautiful butterfly of data ... or maybe a big fat fuzzy data moth.

On the topic of weather - "Joe said it would!" Remember those billboards, my homies?

Dick Cheney Shot A Man; Also It Snowed

Woo-hoo! I got a shout out from BlogBites. Thanks to whomever quoted me!

We finally got our nor'easter yesterday - it wasn't quite as good as last year's, but pretty fun anyway and Springy got to play in it a bit. To confirm S.'s hypothesis that Americans are obsessed with the weather, I found out what exactly causes a nor'easter and told him in great detail, and made him watch the Weather Channel. America just has much more interesting weather extremes than the U.K. But we really do like to talk about it. Three words: Lake Effect Snow.

In other news, Dick Cheney shot some dude while out on a huntin' trip.

Blizzards are a great excuse to make and eat cookies, sit round in front of the tube, and drink beer. However, since I have not got - like some people - the metabolism of a gerbil, too much cookie and beer consumption has caused me bulk up like a hibernating squirrel . . . Needless to say, I am cranky about having to limit my chocolate croissant and alcohol consumption for a few weeks at least. Grumble.

Did I mention that Dick Cheney shot a man? With birdshot? Because the guy snuck up on him when he was aiming at a hapless game bird?

Okay, back to lab. Forreal.

Flurries

I still feel like a chimp trying to rewire a nucelar submarine - but fortunately there's not tons I can do to make the computer explode. And, hearteningly, eventually a chimp could probably develop the fine motor control to do some light rewiring, so there is hope for me and PERL yet! Aside from a few still-mysterious code errors I managed pretty well today.

It's always like this for me, learning something new. I flounder around like a lolloping fish for a few days/sessions/attempts feeling completely lost and idiotic . . . This is the stage before I have built the mental shelves and filing systems with which to categorize and store the new information. A blinding swirl of dissociated facts flurry around my head.

I cannot learn without a context for the learning. I envision the construction in my mind of pigeon-holes and card catalogues, a larger apparatus that bits of knowledge can be fitted into. Without context, I will simply not remember the bits by themselves; the bits have no meaning outside of the filing system. So if a bunch of commands, or names of proteins, or whatever, are just thrown at me, it's like I have my hands full of puzzle pieces - or numberless pages - or twisted metal odds and ends - and it's terribly frustrating, as I have no idea how to even look at them. I have to set them aside until I have got some foundation laid so that I can start assembling the pieces into a coherent structure. Then I can not only remember things, I can start to innovate and make new connections. I have to see the shape of whole before I can deal with the constituent parts.

It's not the easiest way to learn in the beginning, but in the end it's pretty effective.

My big triumph for the week is that I wrote my section of the methods paper. It seems trivial, since it's just a little thing and harldy stacks up against the mounds of work left unbegun since last month, but it's a start. My advisor is still being embarassingly nice, as well. I expect to re-engage experimental thrusters on Monday . . . assuming it's not still snowing.

Snow! We're due for a blizzard this weekend, so everybody keep your fingers crossed that Springy gets a good Winter Storm show.

I am also reading The Feminine Mystique, which ought to eb required reading. If you haven't read it, DO SO AT ONCE!

Sad News (corrected)

Much love and sympathy for Mister Ethyl and Ethyl today. After a long fight with renegade cells, Mr. E's mom passed away this morning from metastatic colon cancer.

Donations to Dana Farber or other cancer organizations are appreciated.

I can't even count on one hand the number of people I know personally or tangentially who have done battle with schizophrenic epithelia. Damn.

Evolution of Procrastination

Linked here is a terrific evolution post from the inestimable PZ Myers. It begins:

Here's some very cool news: scientists have directly observed the evolution of a complex, polygenic, polyphenic trait by genetic assimilation and accommodation in the laboratory. This is important, because it is simultaneously yet another demonstration of the fact of evolution, and an exploration of mechanisms of evolution—showing that evolution is more sophisticated than changes in the coding sequences of individual genes spreading through a population, but is also a consequence of the accumulation of masked variation, synergistic interactions between different alleles and the environment, and perhaps most importantly, changes in gene regulation.

Instead of reading PZ, though, I should be writing my wee paragraph for our whole-lab-team-effort methods review. It's open on the desktop and I've got a bag full of papers to cite as well as my hard drive with salvaged Endnote libraries. (PC still out of service.) But, eh, it's not even lunchtime yet! Right?

Oh, shuddup.

Dude - but I don't know how cable TV expects me to get to work on time if it persists in showing not only Quantum Leap but A Mighty Wind during the breakfasting hours. Previous to cable, I was hamstrung only by Sagwa the Chinese Siamese Cat, Starting Over, and (when I had reception) El Clon on Telemundo. I never totally figured out what was going on in El Clon but it was still a damn riveting show.

Speaking of science (we were? yes, we were) here is another PZ link - although it may be a conflict of interest for me to post about this particular pharma company in the future. Researchers are such whores. We try and pretend it's not true, but I know I can't fit a confocal 'scope in my living room . . .

Biologists At The Computer

You know the black screen that lives behind Windows? The one that only has that old school font and limited mouse-clickability? Well, it turns out you can do stuff there!

And you know how there's crazy ass strings of numbers and letters and symbols and various kinds of parantheses? Guess what: those have meanings!

I know, I know. The mind reels. At least, the mind of the hapless programming-illiterate biologist reels. There's a whole 'nother language, comprised of co-opted English words as well as totally gibberish made-up words, spoken by the elves who live in the computer. It is not intuitive. It has many variations.

There are secret runic operations and strange dances that you have to do to even get into that weird world of white-on-black. Once inside, numbers and letters are not segregated into happy little boxes; they squeeze together with no respect for intervening punctuation marks or the poor biologist's symbol-vertigo (the kind that strikes when she looks at tax forms). Sometimes spaces mean spaces, plus signs mean plusses - sometimes not. Sometimes curly brackets are called for, other times square brackets are the way forward. Dollar signs grow like dandelions and their meaning seems to be context-dependent. Who knew keyboard symbols could have different conjugations?

I am trying to jump into this world after missing the first two sections. The instructor may as well be speaking ancient Aramaic. Slowly, slowly, Leonid . . . and go easy on the pronouncing of the acronyms as words, please.

On Friday we are supposed to learn PERL. I have a feeling this has nothing to do with knitting.

Mama Said, Mama Said

My mama has always said that I am a glass-10%-empty person rather than a glass-90%-full kinda person. Therefore I am going to try to be glad about the people who love me and not grieve about the ones who don't.

My mama also said that "leopards don't change their spots, and dickheads don't stop ejaculating, just because time has passed." She has a way with the vivid imagery, that woman.

And finally, without further ado, I present to you-

Ethyl and Joolya's Extended Rule of Genetics:

1. A donor or recipient of genetic material is not obligated to act within the bounds of societal labels (e.g., "father," "daughter,") due solely to the presence of 50% similar genetic material.
2. A donor (or recipient) of genetic material is biologically and morally obliged to act in the best interest of the recipient (or donor). However, when the donor (or recipient) of genetic material fails to act in the biological or moral best interest of the recipient (or donor), the former forfeits his/her rights to the normal parent-offspring bond.
3. A nonsanguinous individual acting in the best interest of parent or offspring figure is summarily entitled to priveleges normally entailed upon genetically linked individuals.

Thanks...

I'd like to thank the Gods of Vermont who, after eating Brand's car's undercarriage, sent along a kindly angel in the form of a good citizen who just so happened to work at a Volkswagen dealership. (He made up for the bitch in the Stowe Auto convenience store.) I would, however, like to shake a fist at the state of Vermont for not paving Junction Hill "Road" (for lack of a better word).

And I'd like to thank Boomy and Brand and chef par excellence Springy for a delightful weekend mini-break, for letting me win at Scrabble and Settlers (hahaha), and for keeping the fire supplied with logs and kindling.

I would also like to thank the Pittsburgh Steelers for ROCKING last night. Woo hoo!!!

The only person I would not like to thank is the individual who contributed the crucial X chromosome to my genetic complement, because that person is a manipulative unpleasant douchebag. However, a wise woman once wrote, "there's no law that says that someone who passess on some genetic material is obligated to feel anything in particular or act any way in particular. There's a corrolary to this law that says neither does the recipient of the genetic material."

Onwards and upwards, and a big shout out to my fellow proud Pittsburghers! Tildy, Brookburg and Ethyl and everyone, I miss you!

I'd Rather Be On The Playground, Too

"It always boils down to the same thing for these male apologists: if girls do better at something, then obviously the system is skewed in their favor. If boys do better at something, then obviously it’s because boys are innately superior in that area. "

For a very astute discussion of the "boys can't sit still, that's why girls are doing better in school" silliness, please see this post by Twisty et al. BPhD also addresses this issue and includes humorous dialogue between herself and Cute Kid.

(PS: Somewhere in the archives I wrote about how, when I refused to pay attention to the matter at hand in 2nd grade, my teacher told my mom that if I were a little boy they wouldn't even be having that discussion. See if you can find it; my mom's response was pretty funny._

And I Would Rather Be Anywhere Else Than Here Today

Actually, that's not really true. I am more or less content, despite being immersed in dream-recollections (involving lizards and many snakes, and an obsession with plucking my eyebrows) and being at a computer whose space bar takes two fingers (one on each end) to depress. Just got the Elvis Costello in my head.

You wouldn't think writing some science stuff that (ostensibly) you know pretty well would be so tough. But it so is.

Talking to one's colleagues is useful, though.

And all of this would be much easier if my computer weren't fubarissimo. Am relegated to the computer lab with the sticky keyboards.

So nice having my nice roommate around. Last night we went to the pub to play real darts and I nearly-legitimately won the last game of Cricket. I don't even mind being on laundry duty this week. Although I may buy him some more of his limiting reagents so it doesn't have to be done quite so frequently!

Ooooh, my Free Food Radar is beeping - must go investigate.

TV At My House, Last Night.

"Blah blah blah blah libberdie blah." Clapclapclapclapclap. "Blah-di-blah isolationist blah terrr'r blah blah evil blah blah." [Smirk] Clapclapclapclapclap. "Blah blah freedom demockersee blah nukular blah blah blah." Clapclapclapclapclap.

{Click}

"The only thing better than eating a delicious burger was going on a date with the delicious Berger."

{Click}

"What could be gayer than a patent leather shoe? Hooray!"

{Click}

Clapclapclapclapclap. [Smirk] "Oil terrr'r freedom libberdie isolationism." Clapclapclapclapclap.

{Click}

"Aceite bla bla bla malvado bla bla tortura bla terrorismo bla bla bla libertad bla bla la fe en Dios." Aplausoaplausoaplausoaplausoaplauso.

{Click}

"It seemed that the popularity of Raw Food could be attributed to the Hot Waiter. Samantha was determined to wait the other women out . . ."

{Click}

"War is peace. Slavery is Freedom. Ignorance is Strength."

{Click}

"Cheers queers!"

{Click}