Sometimes I hate everyone.

After yet another conversation with my sister and her douche of a boyfriend, I find myself bored, frustrated and incredibly irritated. Yesterday, they decided it would be best if she moved out to give them both space (ie. he freaked out again and she is really confused). Being the amazing sister that I am, I left work, navigated myself through the labyrinth of construction to pick her up, took her out to lunch, and listened to her for 2 hours about their relationship.

Hearing about their relationship creeps me out. I don’t know why, but it does, so the fact that I listened to her talk about it for TWO effing hours is pretty impressive. Eventually, she asked me what I would have done. I hate this question. She wants me to say that I would have done exactly what she did. She wants me to reaffirm that giving him space was the right thing to do. I CAN NOT SAY IT. I tried. I really did. I think I eventually said something along the lines of ‘well, I’m not emotionally involved, so I can’t really answer that’. However, there is no question in my mind that even if I was in love with this guy, I would have dumped him. NO QUESTION.

Then she asks me what kind of guy I am looking for. She has never asked me this before, so I am caught a little off guard (but mostly I am thankful to be talking about something other than her boyfriend). I listed off a few qualities and shrugged. I am pretty sure that this guy doesn’t exist, but I am young and still naïve enough to believe that he does, so I have no problem describing him to her. Then, she says ‘Well, you know who you are describing???? My boyfriend’. WHAT. THE. FUCK. I almost fell out of my chair. I tried to make myself say ‘oh, ha ha, okay’ but all I managed to do was suppress a cough of disbelief and become incredibly interested in my drink. What I wanted to say was:
‘Actually, I think your boyfriend is an inconsiderate, money hungry, uninteresting, boring douche bag with absolutely NONE of the qualities that I look for’.

I wanted to throw up. If he is my 'dream guy' I think I might start buying cats and settle in for a long 40 years of alone time.

#16. Sometimes I don't realize that I am talking unnecessarily loud. It doesn't usually become a problem unless I am talking about someone when they are, in fact, standing relatively close to me.
This reminds me of a little story about a young, red-headed girl (about 16) playing sociables at a party and getting harassed by another girl who kept saying 'Maryanne is cheating!!!!' (I wasn't), so the redhead whispered into the ear of the boy sitting next to her 'Jessica is so annoying!!!!!!!!!!!' Then he whispered back 'I know. And now everyone else does too because you didn't whisper that to me'. At this point the young, seemingly oblivious redhead looked up to see 10 people casting nervous looks between herself and Jessica. Thinking she could play this off, the young redhead laughed and said 'oh I'm just kidding Jessica!!!! hahhahah'. She didn't seem to think so and thus began a 3 year slander campaign against the redhead. Although, it wasn't too successful because most people did think that Jessica was annoying.
Also note that alcohol significantly increases the likelihood of inappropriately loud talking.

Monday...

I am sitting in my very empty office, munching on an apple and listening to music (without my headphones on). All three of these seemingly normal things are very uncommon on a Monday in my office. Usually, there are three or more people in here, I only can eat an apple (or something equally crunchy) in the lounge, and I ALWAYS have to listen to music with earphones in.

I woke up at 6 am feeling slightly anxious due to some seriously weird/disturbing dreams last night, then convinced myself to sleep for another hour or so. I woke up 2 and a half hours later because my alarm clock likes to fuck with me. I rush in the shower, and haphazardly put on my make-up and dry my hair (both of which are already looking a little disheveled), and then rush out to my car.

It is at this very moment that I remember that I am completely out of gas.... so much so, that I didn't think I would make it into my driveway last night. Dammit. I coax my car to the gas station 3 km away and hop out. A 'Please Pay Inside Before Pumping' sign is plastered over the display of pie charts on the pump illustrating that 49% of the cost of gas is due to government taxes. I walk inside (a little annoyed) and stand in line for nearly 15 minutes while the cashier chats with another employee who is NOT DOING ANYTHING. When I finally get the the front, I say 'I'd like $50 gas'. The cashier gives me a look and says 'well did you already pump it?' and I reply 'No... there is a sign out there saying to pay first!!!'. She then tries to convince me that the sign also says 'only after 11pm'. It doesn't. I know it doesn't. So I say 'okay, well, I'd still like $50 gas', thinking that she can just charge me now, so I don't have to wait in line again. She sighs, and says alright... I suppose we could do that for you. It took everything in me not to throw all the Kit Kats at her sitting beside me on the counter.

Annoyed, I finish pumping exactly $50 gas and drive off. I then sit in traffic for 20 minutes (on my 7 minute commute to work) because there is construction on every single route to work in this city. I debate with myself of what is worse. Sitting in construction in the summer, or driving 10 km/hr in the winter because it is icy. I decide that winter driving is worse and force myself to get into a better mood. 10:00 rolls around and I finally walk into my very empty building, wondering where everyone is. The coffee shop is closed, all the doors to offices are closed, nobody is in the building. I think it is a holiday or something. Either that, or they are fumigating the building and I am about to be gassed out of my office. At this point, I am not sure which one would be worse.

Do it again.

I haven’t blogged in a really long time. Obviously the promise of increased blogging frequency that I made a few weeks back was empty (sorry).

Updates:

School- 10 months until my funding runs out. Jesus.
I don’t know how much I can elaborate on this. I don’t know where the last 14 months went. I am pretty sure I fell asleep one night and woke up 2 months later.

Wedding- As expected, the Vegas aspect of my friends wedding has made my job quite a bit easier. Thus far, I’ve only been given the job of making sure things run smoothly once we get there. Obviously, since I’ve never been to Vegas, and have no idea of who is coming or when they might be arriving, and whether or not I am supposed to be planning any bridal events, it should be super simple. Also, the best man is a kind of a douche. Lucky me.

I know I should be happy for her but really, I am just nervous about the whole getting married thing. I am extremely tired of people telling me ‘when you know, you know’, so I should stop worrying about it. While I let it go, I feel like standing on a chair and announcing that I am sure that 95% of divorced couples thought that they ‘knew’ too. I swear to God…if one more person I know tells me they are getting married, I am moving.

Reading- I love it. I stopped reading through my undergrad because it ends up taking up quite a bit of time, and had I read anything other than text books, I would have failed half of my classes. Now, however, I find myself with evenings and weekends free. I love it. I just finished reading The Time Travelers Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. I fully recommend it.


# 15 At this very moment, I want to go to the airport and buy a ticket to anywhere out of North America. Mongolia? Bring it on. Brazil? Where do I sign? Can a country make you feel claustrophobic?

Cold Hearted Bitch

My sister has been having some troubles with her boyfriend. About 3 months after they started dating, he was pressuring her to move in with him, and for the past 8 months she has 'unofficially' been living there (basically living there, only not paying rent... SCORE!). Anyway, from the beginning he has been smitten with her... except, I am not entirely sure he liked her... just the idea of her.

Regardless, after a year of 'I love you' and 'You would make an amazing wife and mother', it has turned into 'I am confused', and 'I need some time'. Basically all the douchey things guys say when they know they want to break up, but don't have the balls to say it, so they drag it out for a month while the girl is left in limbo, wondering if the last year of her life was wasted on this jackass.

As always, everything comes back to me (because this is my blog)... and I am left picking up the pieces and having the same conversation with her, which basically consists of me reassuring her she did nothing wrong and he is just an idiot. Anyway, this has been going on for about 2 months and I've had enough. I can not listen to another word about this guy. I just don't care anymore. As soon as she says his name, I stop listening. I am pretty sure this is super rude and insensitive but I can't bring myself to pretend like I am interested anymore.

It also doesn't help that I can't stand the guy. I want to punch him in the neck when he talks. He thinks he is so much smarter than anyone around him (which he probably is, in most cases), and he has gotten used to basically making shit up. I think that he has gone for so long without anyone calling bullshit on his 'stories' that he doesn't even think twice about COMPLETELY making them up. The first time I met him, he casually told me the most ridiculous story about 'knowing' that Tim Horton's puts an addictive ingredient in their coffee to 'hook' their customers (it's called caffeine idiot). He spoke like he was reading the bible or something, and as if he whole-heartedly believed every single word. Anyway, I called bullshit... and explained the 12 reasons why this was the most stupid thing I'd ever heard. I don't think he likes me too much, but really...I am not going to nod vigorously and say 'ohhhhh! I didn't know that!' when he obviously made up some sort of story to excuse his drinking 5 double doubles' a day. What a douche.

#14 I love snow. LOVE it. I can't imagine living somewhere where it is sunny everyday. I mean, it is nice to vacation in paradise, but no one wants to live there.

Growing up... blah blah blah.

My best friend just got engaged. I knew it was coming. I've known for about 3 months that he bought her a ring and was planning to propose this summer. Even with ample warning, I am still kind of in denial. I am super happy for them, and considering that her fiance is pretty much the male version of me, I totally approved of him. However, I am finding it totally bizarre.

It is not like I don't want them to get married... or that I think they shouldn't get married...
It is more like I am thinking about how this will affect ME.

I am having visions of the next 10 years, and I am a little concerned about it. I know they don't plan on living in the city we are in after they get married. Actually, I am pretty sure they are planning a pretty big move, far, far away from here (like an 8 hour plane ride). I don't like this. I fully support them starting a new life and you know... having kids *shudder*, but the fact that she is SO excited about it makes me feel weird.

I still have panic attacks when I think of being responsible for anyone other than myself.... or even committing myself to someone else. I am totally going to be that 'aunt' that flies through their house every 6 months talking about the fire ritual I experienced in Fiji, or who backpacked around the world for 2 years.

I have no problem being this person, but it terrifies me to think that maybe E and I will not be as close as we've been. I hate growing up.

#13 If I could choose a super power, it would be to stop time at will. I would love it.

Strange behaviour (I'm Canadian, shut up about the spelling)

I am beginning to think I am a hypochondriac. Although, I am not sure you can be called a hypochondriac if you are ACTUALLY experiencing the symptoms. I am pretty sure that I am suffering from at least 3 serious illnesses. Maybe 4. If I don’t blog for a while, don’t be too concerned, I’m probably just dead.

#12 I do not like orange flavoured anything. Except oranges themselves… (which oddly enough, I have been forbidden to eat due to odd side effects….I know). Wait. That is a lie. I like orange crush Slurpee's. I also like orange juice. Okay, let’s change that to orange flavoured anything, barring liquids. Yes. I think that will work.

Confidence is....

OM- 'I am going to get ripped apart when boss gets back'

Me- 'Well you will look good in comparison to me... I haven't gotten anything done in the last 3 weeks!' (not for lack of trying unfortunately)

OM- 'I doubt it. I have been working on this for 3 months and it is still not very good. I don't understand how I can do this unless I meet with him and he is never here!'

Me- 'uh huh. Totally understand.'

OM- 'I mean he was standing behind me in line for coffee, and didn't say anything to me. When I turned around, he said he didn't recognize me. Now don't tell me he doesn't recognize my ass.'

Me- ......

It is not like I think she can't be proud of her ass, but it was still a bizarre conversation to have with someone who could be my mother.


#11 If you tell me an outrageous story, I am immediately inclined to believe it ..... even if you completely made it up. However, approximately one hour after hearing said story, I will likely realize that I am the most gullible person ever.

Chemistry sucks.

I was working in the lab today and something went awry. I don't exactly know what yet, but blogging about it, rather than figuring it out seemed to make perfect sense.

For those of you who are not familiar with chemistry, I will put this in layman's terms.
If you add a certain substance (A) with another substance (B) you will get a product (C).
In my case, there are three reactants... 2 of them are air and water.
So I do my thing and expect that my product (C) will have a component in it (from the reaction) that will react with another substance (D) that is prepared separately.
Upon adding D to C, nothing happened. Weird.
I tried it again, this time waiting for an hour before adding D. And..... Nothing.
Thinking my D was not mixed properly, I added it to something else which surely had some C in it and it reacted, so now I know the problem is not with D.
The problem is with C.

Now, to my predicament.
My entire thesis is hanging in the balance right now. My whole project is based on the A+B=C; C+D=E. E gets analysed and then I go on my merry way.

Well.

If A+B does not work. I don't know how the hell to do the experiments that I've been planning for the past 6 months.
I know this reaction should work. I know my method should work. I know that it has been done time and time again. So I am sitting here trying to think about what I could have possibly done wrong... and all I can think is What. The. Fuck.

I think that my lab should be the subject of my thesis. Titled 'Room 319: the only place in the universe where chemistry does not work'. Okay, so that title is lame. I'll work on it.

Excuse me while I hyperventilate.

#10 I believe that men should not have a say regarding the legality of abortion. There is no way that anyone can understand making a decision like that without actually experiencing it. It is easy to tell someone they can't do something 'because it is wrong' if there is no possibility of yourself ever being faced with that decision. (This is not to say that I think the choice to have an abortion should be entirely up to the woman...)

The day I flashed 100 people.

One year ago (nearly to the day), I was on the other side of the world with 2 of my closest friends. Oddly enough, the rainy, cold weather I am currently experiencing here is very similar to the weather we were experiencing there. While one would expect the African coast to be warm, I can say that it definitely was not warm, and actually bordered on being cold. Nevertheless, my friends and I decided to visit the beach.
Thinking back, it seems ridiculous that we didn't give up on the whole idea sooner.

1) We drove by said 'beach' 3 times before we were convinced that it was a place to swim, or that even allowed people;

2) There was no parking, rather an extended area on the shoulder of the road;

3) Walking down a hill with a topographic relief of maybe 3 feet... I tripped on something in the sand and literally fell flat on my face. There was no 'trip recovery' that could have even occurred. It was almost like time jumped ahead 2 seconds, and all of a sudden I was sprawled out in the sand. Upon searching for whatever it was that tripped me, I came to the conclusion that it was an invisible wire placed strategically to trip unaware tourists (this might make sense if I was a cartoon, or in some sort of Disney flick.... and it might be believable if my friends hadn't walked in the exact same path just seconds before...).

4) The first thing we saw on the beach were 2 signs warning us of sharks. Ahem.

5) There were no changing rooms/bathrooms (or anything of the sort), no trees/bushes/sand piles that we could hide behind to change. We opted to change into our swimsuits right there in the open..... IN FRONT OF COMMUTER TRAIN TRACKS. Granted, I don't think anyone knew that there were tracks there, or that a train would be rounding the corner at approximately the same time my towel fell from my waist and my top had gotten tangled in my hair/arms/neck area, allowing me to flash an entire train. While I may have tricked myself into believing that no one saw, I am pretty sure someone did... I know this because soon after, the train honked (presumably in approval) followed by the hysterical laughing of my friends (thanks guys).

6) I watched my friend dip her toes into the water and decide against going any further. Now, I, no novice at swimming in natural bodies of water, decided to jump right in. Well. Needless to say kids, it was cold. Colder than you would expect the AFRICAN coast to be. We lasted approximately 2.7 minutes in the water.

7) Now wet, cold, bruised, and a little embarrassed.... we sat on the beach shivering while one of my friends, B, made us sandwiches. Now, despite the sand which accompanied them, they were arguably the best sandwiches we had ever had. A bird (some sort of hybrid between a pelican and a seagull) apparently thought the same thing, and attempted to scare us away..... it was sort of creepy.

8) A local walked past us while walking her dog and gave us a look that was some combination of confused/worried/intrigued/impressed/scared. This was presumably because no sane person goes swimming at the beach at this time of year/at all.

Soon after, we retired to our gorgeous honeymoon-esqe apartment/guest house we had been staying at and consumed a ridiculous amount of alcohol. Good times.

It is one of my most favourite days.

#9 I wanted to be a marine biologist between the ages of 9-12. Mostly because of the YTV show Flipper and because I had a crush on the marine biologists 14 year old son. True story.

Crappy lit.

So I've been thinking.

I am becoming less and less interested in blogging. If I have a really funny/disturbing story that I am excited to write about, then less than 3 lines in, I lose all interest and stop.

I am thinking it is just a rut.
I am thinking that my life is becoming so routine that I can't focus long enough to follow through with anything...let alone blogging.
Well.
Today is the day that I will jump out of my rut. Things are changing. I am changing. Well, I am trying.

I have nothing interesting to blog about today, but I do have something to say.

I hate the shopaholic series.

Hate.
Do not tell me you like them. Do not tell me that they are 'SO good'. Because they aren't.
My best friend, E, LOVES them and gave me the first one to read. I was about 1/2 way through the book and literally called her to ask if she was joking. She wasn't.

This is the first book that I think I've ever read where I grew to despise the protagonist to a point that I was rooting for her to fail miserably in all aspects of her life.

If you have never heard about the series, here is a quick synapse.

Girl spends money she doesn't have on things she doesn't need.
Girl gets majorly in debt and lies, and cheats to get out of it.
Girl dates rich guy... but secretly despises him.
Girl lies to rich guy to get money out of him, then leaves him because she doesn't love him.
Girl falls for another rich jerk, who also falls in love with her.
Girl gets everything she wanted because she snags a rich husband she loves and can spend money all day.

Are you kidding me?

Seriously.

Don't read them. I think they actually lower your IQ.



#8 I have a goal to get to hit all 7 continents by the time I am 27. Although, I am debating whether or not I need to get to Antarctica. It isn't exactly populated, and there is an actual hole in the Ozone layer in one area (which is completely inhabitable), not to mention it is freaking cold (please note that I am not a baby about cold weather, as I have survived a winter where temperature dropped to below -45 degrees Celsius. Yes, you heard me. -45. The temperature at which your body freezes within 5 minutes of exposure. No joke.).
Moving on, I have already knocked 3 off the list. I have 4 years to do this... and I am entirely convinced I will do it.

I hate computers

I think I have mentioned in the past that I do not have a good relationship with computers. Maybe it is my electrostatic charged being that throws the programs out of whack when I touch the keyboard... or maybe just that I have no patience to try and understand things like:

'Your computer has experienced a fatal error, to fix the problem you will need to defragment the mainframe memory patch board and reconfigure the portal device used to connect your notebook to the central system'

[NOTE: I have no idea if this is actually a possible error. I just made up it up using random words that I have read in error messages]

Regardless, the above statement (or variation there of) accompanied with the sound effect that sounds like a hybrid of a 'BOP', 'DING', and 'THWAP' is one of the most irritating things I can think of.

I spent 3 friggin hours trying to set up a feature on my computer that would not require me to constantly back up my work manually. Seriously, it should have taken me like 10 minutes. I am not computer illiterate, nor am I a complete idiot; so you are probably wondering 'what the hell is wrong with this girl?'

Well, if windows didn't have approximately 70 thousand different versions, I would have been able to figure out what the hell was going on. Instead I had to go on to some sort of online community and feel like a total idiot because I am the visitor who asks a question that is pretty much the same caliber as someone asking 'how do you peel a banana?'

Anyway, less than 45 seconds after I posted the question, I got a reply. Seriously.... 45 seconds. Some guy read my question, thought up a response and posted back in FORTY-FIVE seconds! Who are these people!? I was about 10 minutes away from throwing my computer on the floor and dancing on it interspersed with pouring hot coffee all over it...and this guy answers the question in less than one minute. Infuriating!

I also think it is a little ironic that I am talking about how much I hate computers, on a computer which is connected to billions of other computers. If I don't post for a while, it is because my computer has conspired with other computers to steal my identity/erase me.
It happened to Sandra Bullock in The Net, and that was like 15 years ago. Just imagine the possibilities.

#7 In high school, one of my best friends boyfriend wrote me a love poem. I never told her about it, and soon afterwards, she lost her virginity to him. I still haven't told her about it, and I stopped talking to her boyfriend. (they are now broken up)

Renewing the vows.

Apparently, I am not the greatest blogger. I am no expert, but I am pretty sure that one post a month is pretty pathetic. I vow to change my blogging habits. I know, I know, I may have made this promise in the past, but this time I mean it.
Why is this time different you ask?
Well, I have completed my course requirements and will no longer need to spend countless hours on impossible assignments/projects. Ahhhhh.... the freedom I feel today is amazing.
Anyway, with no immediate due dates in my future I am sure I will be able to blog at least a few times a week.
I also promise to blog about more interesting things than myself being super busy. As interesting as I am sure it is to listen to someone complain about there being too few hours in the day... I am sure I can find something more interesting to write about.

#6 I played the flute for 8 years.
[insert bandcamp joke here... but believe me... I've heard them all]
I haven't attempted to play it for about 6 years... but I am pretty sure I could fumble through a few pieces.

crazy busy!

I have not blogged in a long time. I have been scrambling to get papers written, presentations prepared, experiments/modeling done and 'surprise' assignments finished.... all while trying to study for 2 impending exams. Due to my average performance last term, I had to step it up a little this term and bring up my average to 'exceptional'.
In fact, the only reason I am blogging now, is because I have writers block. It feels like there is a huge wall between me and my keyboard and my will power to stay sitting here re-writing the same effing sentence over and over again is dwindling.

So last week I had another presentation (for a class) and afterwards, came to a surprising conclusion. I have absolutely NO idea how I come across to people when I am speaking to a large group of people. I do know that for as long as I remember, when I get nervous around people, I smile. I guess I think that if I am smiling, then the person that I am nervous to be around (for whatever reason) will think that I am an open to conversation and super friendly, making them feel at ease to start a conversation. This usually works, but I am beginning to think that I am taking this to the extreme when I am REALLY nervous.

At one point during my presentation I remember telling myself to calm down, and stop smiling so much. I wonder if I give off the impression of being ditzy and bubbly when I should be giving off the impression of being confident and knowledgeable. hmmmm. I will definitely need to work on that.

#5 I absolutely love reading action/adventure books that are loosely based on history. Yes, I liked the daVinci Code... but it is not my favourite.

Blowing myself up.

I had a meeting this morning with one of my supervisors to set up a relatively straight forward experiment. I had read a paper the night before, and felt pretty confident that as long as all the equipment was there, I could assemble it without too much difficulty.

Upon arrival, it didn't take me long to realize that I was naive in my believing it would be simple, and really, just an idiot for thinking I could do it on my own.

I had assumed that someone, anyone, would show me how to do some of the more basic stuff.
At first, I was thrown (not literally...) into a room and given a pat on the ass (not literally...) and told 'go to it', leaving me with a random collection of gadgets, tubing, and a 50L tank of PRESSURIZED NITROGEN GAS. Seriously. I realize that nitrogen is not typically dangerous... but it being pressurized is a little disconcerting to me....considering that I don't know how to use the valve controlling it's release and the fact that the valve was FUCKING BROKEN. While unlikely, it was entirely possible that I could have rocketed myself through a wall... or, much worse, blown up the whole building. (I didn't.... in case you were wondering)

30 minutes later, there are 3 scientists huddled around a large cubic tank of water discussing the best plan of attack, and explaining the procedure to me.
The thing is, it is hard to have a conversation with 3 incredibly smart men, while I have absolutely nothing to contribute except
'Ohhhhh.... okay'
'Yeh'
'I understand'
'Uh huh... and thats why you use.... oh okay'
'Perfect... sounds good'

Anyway, I didn't blow myself (or anyone else) up.


#4 My favourite guilty pleasure song is 'When Doves Cry' by Prince. Really, I like anything by Prince, or the artist formerly known as prince, or the fucked up looking symbol.
There is no funny story behind this. I just like it.

It's called motivation

Today I got to the office (30 minutes later than usual) and had a conversation with my office-mate for 20 minutes about the ridiculousness of the icy sidewalks (I almost fell TEN times on my short 7 minute walk to the building). I then checked my e-mail, read up on some blogs for 20 minutes, and then checked my e-mail again.

I then deemed it necessary to get a coffee and take a walk around the building to see if there was anyone around to talk to.

I am also being whisked away for lunch today (which will no doubt take around 2 hours).

I am quite the worker. Seriously.

It is funny though, because not working doesn't mean that I don't have an insane amount of work to do...

#3 I love Hugh Grant, and always hate the actress playing opposite him.

Okay, so first off, I love Hugh Grant in a 'I would want him as a best friend' kind of way. I am not in love with him and I do not think that I will meet him one day and live happily ever after.

Notting Hill- hated Julia Roberts
4 Weddings and a Funeral- hated Andie MacDowell

There are others, but these two come to mind first.

I don't know why I hate them.... but I do.

Time and Ducks

Today I realized that I am almost one year into my program. ONE YEAR! That is 1/2 of the total amount of time for my program.... as in 50%. Holy shit.
I don't even want to THINK about how much work I need to do in the next 14 months. Considering that I have not accomplished much in the last 10 months (besides course requirements) I am a little nervous thinking about doing my ENTIRE thesis in 14 months.
I need to breathe.... and maybe get a stiff drink (or 5).

#2. I was once compared to a duck.

I was told once, that I am similar to a duck in one major way. While, they seemingly float calmly on the surface of the water, giving the illusion that they are totally in control and relaxed. In reality, they are frantically kicking their feet in every attempt to keep afloat and slowly move from one point to another.
I was told that I am like this. Calm on the surface and FREAKING OUT inside. I suppose it is appropriate.

100 Things

Almost every blog I read has a post titled '100 things about me'. I figure, it is about time that I join the 100 club. I have been hesitant up to this point about compiling such a list, because I fear that I will not make it past #25 before adding points like 'I hate kidney beans' or 'I eat fruit cocktail out of the can'.
I want my 100 list to be entertaining, and exciting (which, will be difficult because I am neither entertaining nor exciting....). Nevertheless, I have decided to forge on. At the end of each post I make, I will add another entry to the list. Today, for instance, I will add #1. Here goes:

#1. My first kiss was when I was 8. I believe I was engaged in a game of 'boys chase girls' during recess in the 2nd grade. Basically, the game rules were:
1. Boys chase girls
2. If caught, the 'caught' girl gets kissed by the 'catcher' boy.

Usually, the girl is not a willing participant in this game (hence the chasing), but the thought of being kissed by a boy was repulsive enough for us to run around the schoolyard for the entire duration of recess.
One day, I was caught by a boy named Jeremy. As the other boys crowded around us, I remember him kissing me, and in a fit of helplessness, I head-butted him. Literally. I remember blood flooding from his nose and covering my new Micky and Minnie Mouse sweatshirt (which I obviously never wore again) and my pink stirr-up corduroy pants (which I loved). For the next year, I was known as the girl who beat up Jeremy. He never tried to kiss me again.

And that is the story of my first kiss.
It is cute right?
No?

So I head butted the guy. Big deal.

Why make-up sucks.

Do you know those women who walk around with what looks like 5 days of eye make-up smugged all over their eyes? Like all of their eyeliner and mascara has rubbed all over their eye-area and rather than actually removing it, they simply put on more concealer and eye make-up? Well, let me tell you, I don't think it is intentional.

I originally thought that these women just couldn't be bothered with removing eye make-up every night, as if they were just too busy to spend 3 whole minutes washing their face.
As it would seem, this is not the case.
The culprit of this weird phenomenon? Water-proof mascara.
As the name suggests, it is actually water-proof.

What they don't tell you, however, is that NOTHING can get the stuff off (apart from physically picking it away slowly..... along with a few unfortunate eyelashes). I am told that there is an eye-makeup remover that takes it off, however, it leaves an oily residue wherever applied. Gross.

So these women opt to just wear the same mascara from day to day without removing it, because it is IMPOSSIBLE to get off.

Anyway, to continue with this extremely pointless, yet valid rant; while I was purchasing said product the other day, I remembered my dislike of any waterproof make-up, but like a fool I bought it anyway.
I awoke the next morning feeling confident that my days of walking around the department with black 'footballer-esqe' make-up was over. I arrived at work looking and feeling pretty good... no makeup had been smudged to areas where it doesn't belong and I went about my day feeling pretty happy about it and thinking I had solved my problem.

That night, I must have spent 20 minutes trying to remove my mascara without pulling out ALL of my eyelashes.

To the women using this product.... it is not worth it!
Do you remember that feeling of waking up in the morning, rubbing your eyes and NOT feeling a crusty residue or seeing black flakes on your pillow case? It is a good feeling. I encourage you to experience it again.
And you won't look like you have 2 permanent black eyes year round. Score.

Operation: Don't have a nervous breakdown.

While my last post hinted a rough day was in store for me, I was not nearly prepared for what occurred. Basically, I think everyone was going out of their way to piss me off. At one point I actually thought that everyone was playing a joke on me. They weren't.

My afternoon consisted of attempting to track people down who seem to be hiding all of the equipment I need, receiving e-mail upon e-mail from boss asking me for more data, interspersed with requests for more analysis to be conducted immediately.

However, I think my breaking point occurred during a snotty discussion with a 'research assistant' (if you can even call him that) which basically consisted of him implying that I was an idiot because I didn't just know the protocol and mandatory form requirements to submit for travel expenses. It is not like this was the first time I had attempted to do so. Oh wait.... yes it was. And it's not like it is his job to deal with the accounts. Oh wait.... yes it is. And it is not like my Boss told me to take my invoice to him, so that he could 'deal with it'. Oh wait....yes he did. So in this regard, I will say to him:

Dear asshole:
I realize that me asking you to actually do your job is somewhat inconvenient; however, I would appreciate it if you did not sigh loudly and roll your eyes at me when I walk into your office. If you continue to do so, I might be inclined to say 'I don't want to talk to you either dickhead, but if you would just answer my question instead of making exaggerated facial expressions, I will leave and only bother you when I am specifically asked to do so'.
I look forward to your retirement.
-maryanne


Sidenote: It is so cold out right now, that when I walk to my building (a mere 7 minutes outside) my mascara freezes and then melts when it comes in contact with my skin. Normally, eyelashes aren't supposed to come in contact with skin; however, my eyelashes seem to be freakishly long. This leads to me walking around with huge black smears all over my eyes. There is nothing more attractive, I assure you.
NOTE: I bought waterproof mascara yesterday (even though I hate it). Hopefully this crisis is now averted.

Silently hyperventilating

I find myself incredibly frustrated today. I don't really know how to explain it, but I can feel the anger rising in me...and getting worse by the minute. I can't even concentrate anymore.

It all started with an innocent little e-mail I sent off to boss on Thursday, asking some pretty basic (but entirely necessary) questions. I received no response until this morning. Not only were the questions left unanswered, but an additional 3 questions arose. After 3 more e-mails asking for clarification and getting back vague answers (at best), I am left here feeling completely helpless and utterly useless. I have created a mass amount of work for myself today and I can't start it until I get my results back. I expect them in the next hour or so, however, I took a quick peak at them in the lab and they seem a little.... well.... inaccurate.
It is possible that I am so completely useless that I can not do even the simplest of lab work?
We will soon find out.

The urge to book a plane ticket out of here is getting harder and harder to ignore.