WTF Monday: Office Babies

I picked up a copy of USA Today...today...and at the bottom of the front page, I was confronted with this article:

Day care's new frontier: Your baby at your desk

The article gives a decent overview of a new trend in the workplace -- allowing parents to bring their infants in to work with them. This isn't at-work daycare. This isn't a partnership between corporations and nearby childcare facilities. The title isn't lying: this is your baby at your desk.

I'd like to give an adamant HELL NO to this practice at the workplace.

As cute as they try to make it seem with the picture of the meeting room filled with six adults and five babies, I'm not buying this. The article does provide both sides of the issue, including testimony from employees who dislike the practice, as well as general commentary about potential conflicts between working parents and childless individuals.

I have several problems with this practice. Let's start from the corporation's point of view. Here you have your employees with children in their offices during the day. Maybe they believe the parents' mental security that their child is safe will exceed the decrease in productivity of having a distraction in their immediate vicinity.

Oh wait, did I just call a child a distraction? Yup. I did.

Among the more lovely things, a child is also quite a distraction, and rightly so. Having a child around should distract a parent from whatever he or she is doing at the time. Nothing wrong with this at all...except if you're at work, I think you should be working.

I'd rather not share an office with a baby (or multiple ones), either. Coworkers' productivity is not likely to increase with a small child nearby, either. I also would be a little concerned about the potential for spreading germs. While the children brought to the office wouldn't be mobile yet, they can still get sick, and unlike humans who communicate with words, they aren't likely to say to their parent in the morning, "Hey, I feel like I'm starting to come down with something, maybe I should stay home today." Instead, you'd probably hear the same gurgles and squeals like any other morning, and then later on figure out that the child has caught something. This works both ways, too, since the child could pick up something from the rest of the people in the office.

I kind of laughed at the part of the article about how the workplace can be stimulating to the child. I guess having random people come in every so often to hold and coo at the baby would be good, but I don't think all children would enjoy that. And how much work are you going to put in to make the environment interesting to a small child? I just don't see the workplace being (or even becoming) a comforting, entertaining environment for a baby.

I won't even go into the smaller details like baby talk (cringe) and the possible negative effects on childless coworkers from being around parents and babies all day.

I see two simple alternatives here. First, I like the idea of having a day care program sponsored by corporations so that young children can be cared for during the day while still being in close proximity to their parents. This solves the distraction problem, and provided the day care staff are good (and I'm not sure why else they'd be hired), parents shouldn't have to worry about their children during the day. Second, and this option appeals to me more (if I could afford it), is simple cutting back hours and working part time, affording the parent more time with the child, but also allowing the parent to keep his/her job. While the first option could continue until the child was ready for school, I assume the part-time work would not last as long. But either option seems much more appealing to me than having a baby actually come to work with its parent.

So what do you think? Am I crazy for my WTF reaction towards infants in the office? Did you expect me to at least go along with other people's right to bring children in, even though I wouldn't want to bring my hypothetical offspring to work with me*? Aaaaand, go!


*Of course, I doubt any chemistry laboratory facility would encourage such things.

Back from the mitten

This weekend was awesome. I've added up the time that I slept between Thursday evening and now (counting naps but not airplane time) and it's a measly 10.5 hours. This means lots of non-sleep things were going on, most of which were quite enjoyable. While waiting for my flight out of Detroit this morning, I conjured up some memorable moments in the form of quotes from this weekend. In no particular order...

"The original chemistry building burned down...as all good chemistry buildings should."
-Dr. Adam Matzger, Michigan chemistry badass

"We'll be taking people to the Arbor Brewing Company after dinner on Saturday night. There will also be a non-alcoholic activity."
-one of the chemistry organizers

"You were like KatieKatieKatieKatieKatieKatieKatieKatie"
-Dan, doing an impression of an intoxicated David

"Just put the [unattractive guy] behind you. It feels the same, and then you get to look at the guy [you do find attractive]."
-Brandon, on the logistics of a MMF threesome with only one attractive male

David: Are you having a good time?
Dan: For the thirtieth time, David, yes, I'm having a good time.
-At that Chinese (Chyneez!) place we went

David, while browsing through my Michigan folder, looking at the printed slide show about U Michigan and Ann Arbor:
"I like how the Ann Arbor slide has things like 'good, safe housing,' 'sports,' and 'music.' Like somebody's going to be like, 'Oh wow, we don't have music where I'm from.'"

"Speaking English all day is tiring!"
-Annette (who is from the University of Puerto Rico), at the Arbor Brewing Company on Saturday evening

"I thought the story was going to end in your lesbian experience.*"
-A mildly disappointed Brandon, after a tale of my trip to Good Vibes with another girl



And now, an example of my incoherence when awakened after two hours of sleep:
Location: my hotel room in Ann Arbor, MI
*phone rings at ~4:30 this morning*
Me: (excessively groggy) Hi.
Scott: Hi, I'm sorry to call you so early, and it's even an hour earlier where you are (he assumed I was in the central time zone).
Me: What are you talking about? It's three hours earlier!
Scott: Huh?
Me: It's three hours earlier. I'm in California!
Scott: So it's 1:30 in the morning there?
Me: No, it's 4:30 here. I went to bed after 2 this morning.
Scott: Uh...it's 4:30 here.
Me: It can't be 4:30 there, it has to be like 7 something.
Scott: I'm looking at my watch. I thought you were in California last weekend.
Me: What? I saw the clock when I answered the phone. It's 4:30 here... Oh! Oh right, I'm in Michigan. So it's the same time here. Yeah.

(It's a little scary how convinced I was of my incorrect location. I guess my mind resides in California when I sleep)


*It has long been hypothesized that at some point in my life I will have some sort of "good time" with a woman. I go along with the hypothesis because it's something impossible to disprove before I die, and also because, duh, some women are really hot.

A little scare

(written Friday morning...about 9:30 a.m. or so)
I'm so zonky right now. Tired but excited. Ready to go but ready to sleep. Trying to stay cool in the airport. Wondering why sleeping on a plane is fine but sleeping in an airport is dangerous (slash tacky?*). I can't believe I fit my boots in that little suitcase. Boots! For fighting the snow!

This morning I got up a little after six after going to bed at three (hence, zonky), and finished getting everything into my suitcase. I realized I hadn't printed an itinerary for my trip. I like to have all my info on paper instead of just in my head because as we know the head is no match for print when it comes to memories. It is only slightly more portable.

So I bring up the email I received after making the flight reservation, and as I'm scrolling down I notice something I hadn't seen when I first got the email (a few weeks ago). It reads:

PLEASE VISIT US ON-LINE AT WWW.UOFMTRAVEL.COM
YOUR RESERVATION WAS HANDLED BY {WOMAN} AT EXTENSION ####
THIS IS A RESERVATION ONLY
FARE NOT GUARANTEED UNTIL TICKET IS PURCHASED
YOU MUST CALL 734 677 2190 BY 5MAR TO CONFIRM TICKETING

Huh, that's interesting. I must call by March 5th to confirm? No wait, they can't mean me. I mean...wait, I didn't get any confirmation email...just this email. That was almost a month ago. Why didn't I see this?

So my heart rate goes from around 65 to 165 in a matter of moments.

I call the number and frantically explain to this very nice customer service dude that I should have called and am not sure what to do now that my plane is leaving in three hours. He waits for me to finish my spiel and then asks for my name. I tell him. A pause. "Oh, okay, you're fine. That's for the university to call and confirm your flight. You're all set." Oh thank goodness.

That was nice. So now I'm in the airport waiting to board. Excited!

*Oh man, Slash Tacky (or Slashtacky) would be a kickass band name. Google says it's at least original.

"And bam, boyfriend"

[20:23] Ki Two: Ever dyed your hair a different color?
[20:23] Mike*: Yep bleached it for the swim team
[20:24] Ki Two: Oh wow
[20:25] Mike: Yeah it was super blonde for a while
[20:25] Ki Two: Nice
[20:25] Mike: What about you, something screams you did black at some point**
[20:25] Ki Two: hahahaha
[20:25] Ki Two: Nope, never actually dyed it
[20:25] Ki Two: I'd marker it sometimes in high school, and of course it was red for AWA as Ed
[20:26] Mike: Yeah those were some definite flexible photos***
[20:27] Ki Two: :P
[20:30] Mike: haha how don’t you have a guy with that flexibility haha
[20:30] Ki Two: I often wonder that myself :)
[20:31] Ki Two: I'm too damn picky
[20:31] Ki Two: That's all :P
[20:31] Mike: You could walk up to someone and go, look what i can do
[20:31] Mike: and bam, boyfriend
[20:31] Ki Two: Because that's what I want to be my selling point
[20:31] Ki Two: "Look at how many ways we can do it"
[20:31] Mike: Well it’s a lot easier than showing your intelligence or sense of humor that quickly
[20:32] Ki Two: See, this is really my problem. I haven't been focusing on the easy-to-convey qualities.

_____________
*If there is name confusion, the Mike in this conversation is the Mike of America's Sweetheart.
**Really? I seem like I'd have dyed my hair black?
***On the book of faces

Previously mentioned - part 2

I followed the original hot guy to baggage claim at SFO and then saw that he was there with someone who I guess was his father (or other older male relative, or sugar daddy, who knows). So I pretty much aborted that mission and decided to focus on getting my one little bag and continuing on the rest of my journey to Berkeley for the night. While I waited for my luggage, a guy who was sitting in front of me on the plane came up and we chatted for a little bit about various things.

He'd flown in from Puerto Rico, and was in San Francisco for a vacation. No, he wasn't from Puerto Rico, he grew up in San Francisco and was now living in Colorado. He and some friends were going to Yosemite to camp for a few days. Then he was going home. What was his job at home?

Organic farm apprentice.

Welcome to San Francisco, I thought, smiling.

Easy Start

Going to bed at 2:30 this morning wasn't a good idea, but I woke up feeling a lot less like a zombie than I expected five hours later. Unfortunately, as I usually do, I turned over and figured I'd sleep a few more minutes, probably waking up at 8:00 or so.

Over four hours later, I woke up and jumped when I saw my clock. There wasn't any point in rushing to school now, since there were only a few minutes remaining in my second class. This was actually quite nice, because having to rush in the morning really throws me for a loop. So I got to have my quiet, easy-going morning and got to school a couple hours later. It's not the end of the world. My indifference to missing class is one of the things I don't understand about myself, but I'm happy that I'm able to peel the stickers of stress off of my skin and clothes, and discard them much more easily than in previous weeks.

Speaking of previous weeks, about a month ago I was thrown into a cauldron of utter stupidity and stress over a midterm exam. I found my graded exam in my mailbox this morning. The big red 188/200 and "Excellent!" scrawled across the top of the first page helped to reinforce just how silly I can be sometimes. I guess I know more than I think I know.

This is helpful because I hear (and have already experienced) grad school really makes you feel down on yourself when you get there and realize there are so many people smarter than you are. I'm okay with that. Being mediocre in certain environments is perfectly acceptable. I'd even say being at the bottom of the intellectual barrel is acceptable in certain environments. Just as long as I'm sane, it's okay.

I think I already said it, but the trip to Berkeley was awesome. I felt inspired just like I did when I was there last summer, and it was better since there was chemistry involved this time. I had the right balance of new and familiar people and experiences.

My last visit to potential graduate schools is this weekend. Flying on Northwest to visit Michigan. Definitely packing boots (they are not pretty but they will save my precious toes from freezing off). I'm okay with being a cold weather wimp. Environments that don't encourage being naked just aren't my favorite places.

I'd like to give a shout-out to a woman who doesn't read this blog but who is really being awesome to me: my lab coordinator. She could have seriously been making my life hell what with my lateness with grades and all my traveling, but instead, she is being so chill and understanding. And she has a little kid. I don't know how you coordinate undergraduate chemistry labs, take care of your little kid, and lose weight all at the same time without going insane. So, props to you, coordinator. You inspire me.

Media and childhood

Heard this song on the drive home from the airport today. Seems like me-- how I try to find people.*



I saw this postcard today and remembered how I used to climb the stairs in my old house. The current house is one-level, though, so no more childhood fun. I remember I tried to go downstairs on all fours a couple times...not nearly as fun or easy.

I love metal and self-expression through inanimate objects. So I liked this one, too.

Also, I feel this entry was timely (though I didn't actually visit the city this time around). And the New York complex? Eh.

*I didn't really watch the video, I just like the song so I embedded the video to share with you.

Other airport notes

Saturday, March 22, 2008. 9:36 p.m. PST

San Francisco airport. Two children are being quite loud. Not crying or throwing fits, just speaking very clearly and relatively loudly at this gate. The mother seems either amused or indifferent. This would be a good time for an "inside voice" lesson. In more populated areas bad parenting is easier to spot. Waiting at the BART entrance today (above ground), watching the people pass, I noticed several parents doing things or allowing their children to do things that I would not do. But it's easy to criticize when one is childless. [ed. note: Because karma loves me, I ended up in the seat in front of these two children and the mother]

Nearby a daughter is showing her mother how to use an iPod. Explaining the function of the "hold" button. The mother is happy to be listening to music. Talked with Danielle today about how cool it used to be to have a walkman, and then to have one of the cool-looking cd players, and now if you see those kinds of things, they just look enormous and outdated compared with the sleek, small music devices of today. There is adequate lighting here at the gate but it is strangely dark. I know it's a late flight, but I'd rather have artificial daylight than this awkward half-lit ambience. A ceiling light to my right is oscillating from dim to brighter and tweaking me out. Dude just came by and ran his bags into the row of seats I'm sitting in. Pretty hilarious how awkward it was. Dude has quite a nice ass. Pants had slipped down a bit, but the ass was still noticeable, so he overcame the usual problem of the lackass pants, but now he adjusted them so he earns points for getting flattering pants. Go dude!

Today turned out to be a lot better than expected. This morning was great. I ate the free breakfast at the hotel, found out I could store my bags there for the day for free and come get them later (yay for my back), and walked around in the beautiful morning. I talked to Scott for a bit, and then started trying to organize what was going to happen today, which ended up falling apart almost completely. I read some local newspapers and people-watched for a while, basking in the sunlight and taking pictures when things caught my eye. Daydreaming about certain people I met yesterday. Thinking about moving here (well, "there" when this gets posted). After many phone calls, P.Y. Laina picked me up and we went to a pizza/bar for lunch. We ate and talked and then did a bit of (quite fun) shopping before driving back near my hotel to meet Chun and Danielle. We sat and talked while Chun and Danielle ate and P.Y. and I tried bubble tea (verdict: I still don't like tea, big surprise).

Chun went home and P.Y. left as well, so Danielle and I went window shopping and talked more before going to dinner at International House. I saw this British dude in the I-House cafeteria that I'd met last summer, but I couldn't/can't remember his name (maybe John?) so I decided against talking to him. He was with a hot blond chick anyway, so I didn't want to interrupt. Danielle was kind enough to walk with me to the BART station with me. We said our goodbyes and I rode to SFO without delay. Security was easy. Here's hoping the planes are on time.



Sunday, March 22, 2008. 8:09 a.m. EST (Charlotte airport*)

Red eye flights : Never Again.
There were so many reasons that flight was horrible that it would take much too long to describe them all. Bottom line: it sucked and I'm flying during hours when I usually don't sleep from now on unless I own the plane and can sleep on a plush mattress during the flight.

*Charlotte Douglas International airport's three letter abbreviation is CLT, which makes me laugh because it's so close to...well...anyway it's funny.

Previously mentioned

{What I said I'd post - part 1 - sad}

Thursday, March 30, 2008. 3:00 p.m.

Sitting in the airport, waiting for boarding to begin. Got up with my belongings to go to the bathroom. On my way back to the waiting area for my gate I hear a yell. A low, female voice. Not too long but long enough to draw my attention, especially since this is an airport and loud adult voices are uncommon. I look behind me where the yell was heard. An large, older woman lays on the ground. I am a few hundred feet away. Several people closer to her run to her, kneel, try to determine what has happened. The woman begins convulsing. I hear the word "seizure" from someone between me and the woman. Alerts are called. Some employees hurry to the scene, while others rush to gather supplies. A medical doctor is called. A stretcher is wheeled passed me. The light-heartedness and smiles of the Fire and Rescue team is disconcerting. I expect an air of indifference, but the blatant show of nonchalance depresses me. They approach her and get her onto a stretcher. Her arms flop off the sides of the stretcher. They wheel her past me. No sirens or rushing, just steady progress. I assume she is unconscious but breathing on her own. I hope she will be okay.

Glad to be relatively stationary

Things I did today:

• Beat Brawl's Classic mode on Hard with Link
• Subsequently unlocked Ganandorf
• Drove to the airport
• Graded papers
• Heard something happen and wrote about it*
  
• Flew to Atlanta
• Graded papers on the plane
  
• Ate cheap breadsticks in Atlanta
• Flew to San Francisco
• Graded papers on the plane
  
• Saw this incredibly attractive guy on the flight
• Followed said attractive guy to baggage claim but didn't see a good opportunity to speak
• Spoke with this other friendly (and, I suppose, attractive) guy who was in the seat in front of me on the plane*
• Took the AirTrain to the BART station at SFO
• Rode BART from SFO to Berkeley
• Graded papers on the BART
• Got my bearings on Shattuck
• Tried to figure out what bus would take me to my hotel
• Ditched the bus idea in favor of walking
• Hauled my backpack and small suitcase (thank goodness it has wheels) to hotel
• Checked in
• Got private room -- not sure if this was supposed to happen -- awesome
• Realized my parking ticket from original airport was missing
• Oh fuck
• Called home to say I survived and was safe in my hotel room
• Made plans to take a hot shower and zonk out

*things that will be posted later

So much motion today. Lying in bed, I still feel like I am slowing down, haven't stopped yet. People are beautiful here. Ethernet connection in room for free equals adequate updating given adequate spare time. Goodnight.

Go West, young woman

I've half-assedly packed for tomorrow...it'll get well-done later. I'm more excited than I've seemed about this Cali trip. Got an email today from a grad student in the group I think I am most interested in, so I'm glad I'll get to talk to him about the group sometime on Friday. The airplane travel is not nearly as exciting, but at least there's one good thing about having to fly: solid hours of free time on the plane. And what shall I do during that time? Grade papers, duh.

Please think happy take-off and landing thoughts, but right up there with those should be the thoughts about nothing happening to the papers I'm going to grade on the plane.

I'm going to be in the (a?) Charlotte airport on Easter Sunday morning for a three-hour layover. Yuck. Haven't had coffee since last Thursday...I think this streak will end sometime this weekend.

Unlocked Brawl characters thus far: Luigi, Falco, Ness, Marth, Captain Falcon, and [2 a.m. edit] Lucario. I died a lot more in SSE today. Forty-four percent complete. Tried beating 100-man Melee with Link and Pikachu. Highest scores: Pikachu - 95 (so close it was painful), Link (92). Having fun with the trophy room, loving the sound of breaking glass. I like having set goals to complete. *grin*

Kind of sad to watch the Gators in the NIT after these past two years of glorious victory. But hey, at least we beat down San Diego State in the first round (73-49). We're on our way to being 66th in the nation! Yeah!

Postcard: Bad communication, good logic

I've confirmed that there's internet where I'm going, so there may be posting. Leave me some comment love and I'll be back in full force by Monday.

High on Brawl

Knowing I run the risk of your minds taking this the wrong way, I'll still tell you: My left thumb is soooo sore.

From over-playing Brawl, duh.

This post is geared towards Brawl. Move along if this is not your thing.

The drive home from Greenville seemed like the fastest one ever. It helped that the drive out there on Friday felt like the longest one ever. I guess the fact that I was actually rested, and driving through daylight the entire time helped more than I expected. Also, coming home to my own copy of Brawl was quite nice. Upon arrival, I chatted with my folks for a bit while eating half of a giant piece of blueberry pie, then headed out to a couple of stores, the most important one being (the somewhat dreaded) Circuit City to use my $10 gift card on a new "platinum" GameCube controller. I want a Wave Bird at some point, but the need is not as urgent as I originally thought it was. KiWii is in closer proximity to my bed than my mind's eye measured as I was driving home.

I played a lot of the single-player Subspace Emissary (now up to 29% clear I think), as well as some online battles (slow as fuck, but only sometimes), and some random Level-9 computer battles (alternating kicking ass and getting my burnt ass handed to me, depending on the player combination). I'm determined to be lethal. I must give kudos to Paul for noting my ability with Kirby, as I've had fun playing with the little pink sphere since I've gotten home. The two psychic-powered kids are a lot more fun to fight with than originally believed as well. And Diddy Kong? Why were you downing him, P? He's got moves! Especially Diddy-Fab (aka Fabulous Diddy), he's got some crazy-cool moves.

Subspace Emissary didn't deter my Pit fetish at all. The close up shots are awesome, although I guess he is younger than he seems from afar. Those disproportionately huge hands signify some sort of maturity, though. I'm still going with "yum."

Note: Giant Pit's HIYAYAYA is fucking hilarious. Not sexy at all. Just hilarious.

Related note: I wish I knew how Tiny Pit's HIYAYAYA sounded...thanks Paul for killing that opportunity. *poke*

The game is still on...glowing at me from the screen. It's getting late, though, so the adventure may have to wait til tomorrow.

Send me your friend codes if you haven't already. I'll send you mine in return.

Mid-Vacation

Hopefully you've noticed the new site design. I also hope you like it. If not, please wait a week to tell me, because it took a lot of effort to find and modify a template to get everything the way I wanted it. Enjoy the "buttons" near the top, they are my favorite addition. If anything doesn't work, or goes wonky on you, don't wait a week to tell me. Let me know so I can fix it, please. (Blogger recognizes "wonky" as a word...maybe it is a word?)

I'm having a good time up here in South Carolina. Paul has been quite generous in letting me stay here for so long. I'd originally planned to spend a night in Clemson, but things fell through, so I'm here at Paul's until Tuesday.

The brownies are spectacular. Some are still left, though I doubt they'll remain uneaten after tomorrow.

I've been playing a whole lot of Super Smash Bros. Brawl and I can't describe how much I love this game. It's like Melee, but better in a lot of ways, some of which I can't really put into words. One of the ways I can put into words: Pit. If ever there were a character hot enough to draw my attention away from the ever-sexy Link, it is this young winged boy with a bow. I've been arguing with the guys here about whether he's of legal age. They tell me he's eight years old, but his game came out twenty years ago, so I figure I can totally go after a 28-year-old. Anyway, yum.

Oh, and my Brawl game came in the mail on Saturday, so when I get home, I'll take care of all that friending business and get started with practicing so I can kick some ass in online battles.

I got to see Ellie yesterday, which was awesome as always, although since she was sick the evening was cut short at a more reasonable hour than in past conversations. In retrospect, it was nice to get back to Paul's place before midnight.

Today was fun as well. Paul and I went over to Beej's for dinner and played (of course) more Brawl with Scott and also tried out Scott's new DDR game. This was quite entertaining. While I claimed to have the most natural rhythm of anyone there, I think Paul still scored higher than I did in the levels. Both Scott and Beej get points for letting us laugh at them while trying to dance.

I'm kind of sad that the "Random Play" option isn't available anymore in the "Relationships" part of the Facebook profile. I'm not sure why they took it away along with "Whatever I Can Get," but if it had anything to do with trying to be less like MySpace, they should really yank on the reins of the application-adding frenzy that has infected the majority of profiles on there. All I want to add is two words, not monumental amounts of meaningless content to my profile.

In case that last paragraph raised eyebrows, I've decided I'm not really in a place (geographically or mentally/emotionally) to have a good, healthy relationship with someone. I'm likely leaving for the west coast by August, and I don't know why I should bother getting attached to someone before then. That being said, I'd love to have someone in my life for some PG-13 physical enjoyment, without the emotional baggage. Yes, it'd go both ways (meaning I wouldn't bring him into my potential whirlwind of moods). So, if you know people out there looking for this kind of thing, let me know. No guarantees or anything, just stating some possible goals. [see edit 04/20/08]

Plenty to chew on for now. I'm ready for some sleep.

Going to town

So many good things! First and foremost: there is a gigantic pan of dark chocolate fudge brownies (with chocolate chunks!) baking in the oven. These will be enjoyed tomorrow evening provided they travel well and my marvelous host Paul wants to share them with others. I think they will be delicious.

A related second thing: I'm going to South Carolina! Yay, road trip! I think there will be sporadic posting during my trip, so come back for updates. I promise, if I get crazy intoxicated, and can locate my computer and type, there will be crazy drunk typing. Wild, I know.

Third thing: I talked to a counselor today, which was kind of nice. Funny thing was I ran out of time telling her all the things I wanted to talk to her about at subsequent visits. Ah well. I'm in a weird, but stable state of mind for now, so no worries. And I doubt this next week will be anywhere near as stressful as previous ones have been.

Fourth!: My SSB Brawl game is in the mail...I'm betting it'll be delivered tomorrow. I'm confident that it'll be here when I get back from SC so I can play a bit before trekking off to...

Fifth: California again! Yay more traveling. Next Thursday I'll be jetting west for a couple of days packed with adventure. Here's hoping the hotel there is as nice as the one in Texas. I'm also hoping things fall together so I can see some people out there who I met last summer.

Sixth: I had a great conversation with David today (or at least the last 90% of it). I really can't begin to describe how good of a conversation it was. It was so strange that we'd both had very similar thoughts on something in the past few days. I might write about it sometime, once I get a better handle on what to say. Just wanted to give kudos to ya, D. Thanks for calling. *grin*

Seventh: Did I mention the trip? Days away from home, woo!

I should probably pack. Goodnight!

p.s. Happy Pi Day!

I'm near books about linguistics

I'm in the library. I've actually gotten a decent bit done on my chemistry report. Good thing, 'cause it's due by 5:00 p.m.

This dude was getting books from a nearby shelf and looking at a bunch of them on the floor (open, looking in indices). He was crouched down looking at them and I could just barely see his face.

He looked like he had two or three huge metal studs or rings in his upper lip.

As he picked up his books and walked by my table I wanted to see his piercings without staring (and that's not easy for me to do).

Turns out, he was just holding a shiny metal pen sideways between his lips. Oops!

*****

Also, I just got a text message from Matt that said:

"Colbert totally mentioned that article about settling for Mr. Right Now during his 'Tonight's Word' segment this evening!!!"

How awesome!

WTF Monday: My lungs never felt so special

The following event took place at the second bar I went to last Friday night (technically Saturday morning).

While I was sitting there waiting for the last band to start playing, this guy came over and started talking to me. He shall be referred to as "Dude."

Dude: "Do you smoke?"
Me: "No. I have asthma."
Dude: "Oh, wow."
Me: "Yeah, I don't think it'd be a good idea for me to smoke.*"
Dude: "Man, I wish I had asthma. Then I wouldn't smoke."

I don't know how drunk he was. Maybe this statement made sense in his mind. I don't know.

No, no, don't leave yet. It gets better.

Dude: "Oh hey, have you heard of those chihuahuas that cure asthma?"
Me (stifling laughter): "Uh...no."
Dude: "Seriously, there are like these dogs that if you have asthma and you get them, the dog gets asthma from you, and then kind of makes it (there was a hand motion here) less."
Me: "What???"
Dude: "Like, I know this family and they all have asthma, and they have this little chihuahua, and it has asthma now."

I'm just laughing by this time.

Dude: "It's really is funny because then you've got this crazy hyper dog running around and then it, like, has an asthma attack!"
Me: "Yeah, that's wild."

Okay maybe I didn't say "that's wild" but still. Really? I can't down the guy too much. He was nice enough to have a conversation about a characteristic of me, while still keeping the mood light. So...points for obscure "knowledge" and not being a self-centered ass, dude. You seemed nice enough.

In case you're curious

*I am aware that going to smoky bars is not a good idea, either. I'm moving to smoke-free bars as soon as possible.

What's a couple more weeks?

...I've waited three extra months anyway.

Online pre-order: Horrible, Horrible Decision.



Right now it's not so bad, because I have a lot of work to do and don't need the distraction. But next week would have been cool to have it because it's spring break.

Please just leave me out of Brawl conversation for now, people who have the game. Thanks. I'm sorry I was stupid enough to think that it might arrive within a week of the release date.

Hopefully not offensive

Stuff White People Like -- This blog is hilarious.

I'm invoking the "I'm {some subset} so I can laugh at this" law for this post. I'm white, so I can laugh at this. I also think the rest of the world should be able to laugh at this. It's funny.

I don't think the list applies to all white people, but some things sure hit the mark. I think in some instances I fall into the group of "the other white people" meaning "the not exactly rich white people" or "the Southern white people" or "the uncool white people," so that might be why a lot of the items on that list don't describe me.* The site is still hilarious and you should read it and laugh.

No comments for this post. If you like the site, awesome, let me know in another post's comment area or through Meebo. Just trying to avoid pointless argument like the comment sections on that blog's posts.


*a few examples: #52 Sarah Silverman, #22 Having Two Last Names, #44 Public Radio, #15 Yoga, #28 Not Having a TV, #67 Standing Still at Concerts, #79 Modern Furniture, #75 Threatening to Move to Canada

It's supposedly snowing here

Tonight I had my first experience with a chucklefuck bar. While at first glad that the cover charge was only $3 instead of the expected $5 (I'm betting because I'm old enough to drink), upon venturing upstairs where the music was supposed to be, I found myself standing out almost uncomfortably (got there at about 10:30).

So many girls with perfectly plucked eyebrows, sipping their colorful drinks in plastic cups and dragging on their cigarettes. So many guys wearing lackass pants* and trying to be cool. It'd been a while since I'd been around a bunch of "preppy" kids like there were in high school. Somehow I'd avoided the mobs of them at Clemson for the better part of 4.5 years.

I got displaced from where I was sitting or standing three times before I settled down in a chair in the back with a decent view of the stage and band. Once the band started playing, I had a satisfactory time enjoying the music and silently laughing at the drunk people shaking their oh-so-white asses for the crowd. I left at about 12:30.

Headed over to a bar with no cover charge, same one I went to the last time I went out. I was a little afraid that D2 might be there, but I didn't see him, which was good. I just didn't want awkwardness. I'd have been fine being left alone, but apparently it's a lot easier to get people to talk to you when you truly wouldn't mind being ignored. A guy came over and talked to me about various general things. We didn't get into many personal details, which was nice. While he was talking, though, I decided if he asked what my name was, I was going to lie.

I'm not sure why I think this is a good idea, lying in certain situations like this, but I do plan to do it in the future. I know I'll be Molly, but I'm not sure what Molly's last name will be yet. This will be my I-don't-want-to-know-you name. So there. I will foil your plans.

The band at the indie bar was definitely indie. I showed up so late that I'd missed the first band (or two?), so the last one was some sort of ska rock stuff. I found it cute and upbeat (depressing ska would probably make optimists instantly suicidal) but was glad to leave at about 1:45, as the bar was starting to clear out, and the guy had gone elsewhere, so I bolted.

No alcohol tonight. "Yay" I guess. Tons of reasons for me not to drink. It's one thing to drink around platonic friends. It's a very different thing to drink around people you might want to date or at least hop on. And it is still yet another thing to drink around people who want to date or at least hop on you (with the implication that it is not reciprocated). Those last few statements aren't really related to why I didn't drink tonight specifically, but I felt like they should be written.

I'd like to give props to my Mom, who went shopping at the mall on Thursday and found all these shirts for $2.99 or less. So I have shirts with little baby sleeves on them now. (which means I can wear them in lab, unlike my sleeveless ones) We went there again this evening and I found a long sleeve black shirt for 99 cents. I can't remember the last time I used only coins to pay for an item of clothing. I hope my love for a good deal is seen as a good thing.

Ack, I just remembered I have mascara on, so that needs to get removed. And I need a shower. The worst part about barhopping is the lingering smoke on clothing afterwards. Here's to a future in the West with smoke-free venues. Goodnight!

*lackass pants - {a term I coined this evening, no matter what Urban Dictionary says} adj.-noun: pants worn by an individual (usually male) who either has no ass, or has poor choice in pants so whatever ass he did have is now merely a connecting line between his back and thighs; generally not liked by curve-appreciating heterosexual females.

BYOG-string

The following excerpt is from a Meebo conversation I had with a male friend of mine. We were talking about my future career, and he'd made one suggestion already, to which I responded "that's one option." After that, well, you can read it...*laughter*

[21:20] Ki Two: that's one option
[21:20] MeeboGuest: maybe you should move to vegas and work as a stripper in a stage show
[21:20] MeeboGuest: you're super hot, the pay is probably good and nobody could ever touch you
[21:20] Ki Two: hahaha
[21:21] MeeboGuest: and you want people to know how good you look
[21:21] Ki Two: i **suppose** that is another option
[21:21] MeeboGuest: and i bet it's fun

Oh yes, the exhibitionist in me would probably enjoy that. I liked that he used the fact that "it's fun" as a selling point.

p.s. Bonnie (or anyone else who thinks they might know), major brownie points for you if you can remember where I got the title of this post (assuming you watched the show, not sure)

In My Pants

I didn't think this meme would be that entertaining, but I was pleasantly surprised.

Instructions! For those of you who want to play (either in the comments or on your own blog):

1. Open media player of your choice
2. Put it on shuffle/random and list the first 15 artists/tracks that play with "in my pants" added to the end of the title
3. Bold the ones that actually make you laugh.

Here are mine. They started off slow, but then I just couldn't believe what tracks came up...then it went boring again and then finished with flying colors. In my pants.

1. NoFX - Dinosaurs Will Die in my pants
2. The Offspring - Have You Ever in my pants
3. Our Lady Peace - Starseed in my pants
4. Bright Eyes - I Believe in Sympathy in my pants
5. Living End - Prisoner of Society in my pants
6. Enigma - Gravity of Love in my pants
7. Eminem - Lose Yourself in my pants (I am not kidding)
8. From "Running Cadences of the U.S. Armed Forces" - Here Comes Charlie in my pants
9. Les Brown - I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm in my pants
10. Nena - 99 Red Balloons in my pants (not funny, but crowded)
11. Interpol - Leif Erikson in my pants
12. Nelly - Ride Wit Me in my pants
13. Static-X - ...In a Bag in my pants
14. Five for Fighting - Superman in my pants
15. Harry Connick, Jr. - We Are in Love in my pants

If you were looking something a slightly more mature, see yesterday's post.

Ready to settle down, or just ready to settle?

*shudder*

Wow. I just read this article called "Marry Him! The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough" in The Atlantic, and I think the best way I could respond to it would be to write a response titled:

Dump His Ass! He's Not Mr. Good Enough
if You Don't "Want a Piece of That"

Or something like that...because I don't think an article with "fuck" in the title would be well received.

I don't really know what to make of the article. On one hand, the authors practical-to-the-extreme arguments are almost refreshing until you realize just how sad they are:

So if you rarely see your husband—but he’s a decent guy who takes out the trash and sets up the baby gear, and he provides a second income that allows you to spend time with your child instead of working 60 hours a week to support a family on your own—how much does it matter whether the guy you marry is The One?

Uh, this doesn't sound so much like a marriage as it does like a gold digger's inner monologue...but what do I know? Maybe guys totally want this type of arrangement. On the other hand, I don't understand why she is writing what seems to be a series of articles about how hard it is to land a man at her age (newly 40) when she brought on a lot of her own problems by having a child on her own (via sperm donor). And her reliance on self-help books is astounding. In this article alone, she references several "How to Find a Man" books as well as some literature on women having children on their own. It's good to be informed, I guess, but I think some self-reliance even in times of despair is more character building than resorting to guide after guide on how to be happy.

Her underlying message of finding a teammate instead of a lover is downright depressing. She waves off sparks and passion like they're pretty much meaningless. I'll admit that some sexual bottoming out is quite probable at times when small children are either being born or potty-trained, but seriously? Months with no sex while living in the same house with your spouse? Yikes!

Don't get me wrong, compatibility and not wanting to throw objects at each other's heads is important. But wouldn't it be cool if two people could "work" at keeping the flames alive as much as they work to get along over everyday issues? Something tells me those two goals would go hand in hand, but making an effort to stay hot and desirable seems like a lot more fun. But I'm horribly idealistic.

If you do decide to slog through the 5,000+ word article, kudos. Let me know what you think. Is "settling" that horrible of a concept?

WTF Monday: Double Feature!

Welcome to another installment of WTF Monday!

If you've ever driven a vehicle on roads with lines on them, and hopefully navigated through intersections, it's probable that you've noticed lane markers such as the word "ONLY" with a big left (or right) arrow painted near it. This effectively conveys the message that this is a turn-only lane. I have no problems with these lane markers.

What I do have a problem with is the labeling of lanes with more than one word, when the words are in essentially reverse order than the way we English-speaking folk normally read. For example, on campus here there are portions of roads designated for the buses and the bikes. Unfortunately, if you were to see a bird's eye view of this road, the labeling appears like this:

LANE
ONLY
BIKE
BUS

And I know the words could be in any order and any person with limited English experience could put together the concept of the lane, especially since there's no negative word in there to make things confusing.

But really, there are four words. Are we so short sighted that we can't look up to the farthest word and read "down" like we normally do? Must we be presented with one word at a time like at football games when the cheerleaders must spoon-feed the cheer words "GO BIG RED" one at a time to the drunk, disorderly fans?

Or how about this, how about if the number of words to be painted on the lane is greater than two (because I think we should be able to handle two words in either order), we do the unthinkable...

...and put the words on a sign on the side of the road.

(fin topic one)

Onto POLITICS because there's something that's been bothering me.

And her name is Hillary Clinton.

I don't think I've stated on here who I hope wins the Democratic nomination, but I'll say it now: I'm all for Hillary Clinton becoming our next president. I'm also for Hillary Clinton shutting up about all the things her opponent has or hasn't done, or has contradicted himself on.


Hillary,

You've got the experience. We know that. You inspire people with your words, even if you aren't as poetic as your opponent. People believe in you, and you have some damn good stands on the issues in my (young, female, liberal) mind. And I don't know if it's the media blowing it out of proportion, but it seems like

EVERY TIME I TURN ON CNN,
YOU'RE BITCHING ABOUT SOMETHING

So, please, for the sake of your supporters, and the rest of your campaign, as short-lived as it may be, stop acting like a girl.

The more you point fingers, the more it seems like you don't have a strong foundation to stand on. The more you claim that you're being misrepresented, the less time you're spending representing yourself in a positive light. And the longer this string of complaints and attacks goes on, the more negative your future-president image becomes. No one wants a whiny president. And if you become president, people are going to misrepresent you every minute for the next four years. So get used to it.

You're a strong woman. Act like it.

Sincerely,
Ki Two, still a supporter

Fate to me: STFU

As most of you know, I don't have a personal relationship with any god. Often, though, I am challenged with events in my life that make me think that if there is something up there with the power to mess with us, she sure has a wicked sense of humor. But anything that ever happens revolves around the minuscule emotional issues I have, and I'm still highly doubtful that the events that happen are actually for the purpose I devise for them upon reflection.

Take for example, yesterday. Yesterday was a definite "I look/feel like I've been run over by an 18-wheeler" day, even though nothing really catastrophic had happened, just the run of the mill setbacks on my path to utter happiness in the arms of a hot, naked man. So for most of the day I was a lot more silent than normal, asocial, and generally not in control of my sadness. This isn't really a problem because I don't interact with people during the day, but I had to teach lab yesterday afternoon, so I pep-talked myself into pulling it together for a few hours.

Thank you, Friday lab, for being as kickass as you are. Y'all always find some way to make me happier than when I arrive. Your kindness and compassion is very appreciated.

I went to the gym afterwards, after some self-debate on the issue of whether my weight-lifting is/was merely a socially acceptable form of self-mutilation (or replacing emotional pain with physical pain, but without blood/scars, so no suspicions aroused). I decided it's not a bad thing to like pain if the pain is beneficial, and I have deemed it to be so. The gym was good. My whole upper body aches today, and I love it.

It had rained a little during the day, but my drive home was rain-free, though the roads were still wet. I approached a stop light while changing the radio station, and suddenly it became obvious that there were many more cars waiting for the light in front of me than I'd originally thought. This led to sudden, hard braking. On wet roads. Two plus two equals hydroplaning because I didn't think to pump my brakes instead. The SUV in front of me just kept getting closer as I slid forward. Gripping the steering wheel I tried to think about what I should do. Blow the horn? All I managed to do was hit the brake harder, though it was futile at that point. Turning the wheel a little, I waited for the car to stop. A couple feet short of the SUV's bumper, I exhaled and realized just how fast my heart was beating. I released my death-grip on the steering wheel in disjointed motions. The light turned green. I pressed the gas pedal lightly. The tires engaged, and the line of cars moved forward.

Calming down, I thought about what I would tell my parents when I got home. They worry about me when I'm sad, though I try to keep it from them, but this time I had good things to say.

How happy I was that my car was still intact, that I didn't owe anyone money for rear-ending them, and that I wasn't going to pay higher insurance rates. How happy I was to be auto-accident free yesterday, instead of in a mess of paperwork and guilt for not piloting my vehicle correctly. Sometimes I have trouble focusing on the multitude of things that could happen to make my life less glorious. Sometimes I need a little help to see that I overreact to things that are relatively inconsequential.

Thanks, fate, for that little kick in the pants.