Here come the Irish....I mean, the Steelers

Several Pittsburgh Steelers wore green Notre Dame jerseys with #6 on them to honor teammate and ND alum Jerome Bettis. Even Troy Polamalu, who played at USC, wore one, but must be hiding from the cameras because I couldn't find a picture. Go Steelers!

Chewie, is that you?

Chewbacca has a blog. For reals.

Courtesy of my RT.

Funny email from my dad

from my dad's Blackberry:

gov. Mitt is now right behind me on usair
shuttle. I have to resist urge to push seat back to squash him

Gov. Mitt Romney is the governor of Massachusetts, for those of you who don't reside in the Commonwealth.

Federer watch

My favorite tennis player, Roger Federer, won the Australian Open. And do you know what that means? Time for another Federer Photo.

Weekend Recap

Friday: Went home, had dinner with my parents, and watched a zillion episodes of TV with two TiVo owning friends. If I ever decide to get a decent television with reception, or fork out the bucks for cable, I think I'll definitely get TiVo. It rocks. We watched a few episodes of the American version of The Office, and although everyone says it's not as good as the British version, it's still quite funny. Some of the characters, like the guy who has a crush on the engaged receptionist, are the same from the British version, but some are different. Steve Carrell is good as the boss, but not nearly as cringe-inducing horrid as his British counterpart, Ricky Gervais.

Saturday: I played with my baby niece and learned and important lesson: if you feed a baby an entire bottle, then pick her up and dance around swinging in circles, said baby will spit up all over you. I played soccer and got my arse kicked, literally, and I know I'll get some strange looks at the gym today when I sport my maroon badges of courage. It looks like someone wailed on my right leg with a baseball bat, but that's what happens when you get drilled in the same leg like five times in one game. After soccer, I went on what may or may not have been a date. It was fun, and I did do a little bit of Nervous Talking, but not too bad. It's not like I told him that until the age of ten or so I was terrified of the reflections of fluorescent lights on tile floors (if you look at them while you're walking through a supermarket or department store, they seem like they are following you, and if you speed up, they chase you, and it freaked me out when I was a kid. Okay, it still kind of freaks me out but at least I don't run screaming until I safely reach the carpet anymore). Then I ended up having late-night beers with my Irish neighbors, who are leaving for San Francisco this week, and it turned into one of those drunken "You're the best." "No, YOU'RE the best" conversations.

Sunday: I saw The Matador, a buddy comedy starring Pierce Brosnan as a sleazy hitman and Greg Kinnear as a nice, regular guy. It was really funny, especially Pierce Brosnan, who plays an absolute scumbag, all gold chains, chest hair, and boob-staring, but he's a hilariously awesome scumbag. The movie also reinforced my belief that Greg Kinnear must be the nicest guy in Hollywood, and Hope Davis was adorable as his wife. After the movie, I went to the New Balance factory outlet and picked up some new running shoes, which I'm hoping will help with the foot pain that has been bothering me ever since I ran the marathon in November. I think I may have either Plantar Fascitis or tendonitis. It's a fairly intense pain in the bottom of my feet, and it's usually worse in the morning, especially when I walk around with bare feet. I got tendonitis last time I ran a marathon, and there isn't much you can do about it, but it eventually goes away. Sunday night I made chicken pot pie and a friend came over for dinner, and we drank white zinfandel from a box, classy gals we are.

William Hung is my internet stalker

This is amusing....So, I have a Friendster account, because I randomly signed up for it a few years ago when a friend sent out a mass email about it. I rarely look at it, but I opened it up today, because it's Friday afternoon and I'm goofing off. They have this new feature where you can see who's looked at your page. And guess who looked at my page? William Hung. Of American Idol infamy. Not sure if it's really him or just a hoax, but the Friendster profile is believable. Just look at the Favorite Movies and Favorite Music, and all of the asian girls who are his friendster friends. I think you might have to be a member to read the full profile.

Do you get this joke?

A man walks into a bar and says "ouch."

It is all the buzz on my floor at work today, because a lot of people just don't get it, so they are taking a survey to see if they can figure out why some people get it and others don't. Yes, we scientists are relentless in our academic pursuits. At first, the survey takers thought it was a male/female thing, but I and another girl did get it, so now the consensus is that Americans and Canadians get it, but people from other countries don't. Which makes sense, because when you're learning a second language, jokes are always the hardest thing to understand.

Friday Photo

This young lady has been featured here before, but I don't know which special effect I like better- the superimposed profile or the colored laser beam background.

Remember what I wrote about Danny Ainge sucking?

Well, it's still true. The Celtics traded Ricky Davis, Mark Blount, Marcus Banks, and Justin Reed for Wally Szczerbiak, Michael Olowokandi, and Dwayne Jones. At least they didn't throw Pierce in for good measure. I'm going to miss crazy Ricky, who was starting to grow on me, and I think he's a better all-around player than Szczerbiak. Trading Blount for Olowokandi is a definite downgrade. Two things the C's need are an experienced point guard and a strong, scoring center, and they got neither out of this deal. I do like the Timberwolves, so I hope Ricky does well and complements KG on the court, and I think he will. Looks like Ainge has already cashed in the chips for this season, so let's hope the C's make some big moves in the off season, otherwise we'll remain in basketball purgatory for the next several years.

My gym nemesis

I have a gym nemesis. He's ALWAYS there, no matter when I go, which means that he either is constantly is at the gym or he somehow knows to go only when I'm going to be there so he can do his nemesis thing. What has he done to provoke my wrath? Well, he's one of those circuit trainers, people who simultaneously use seven or eight machines at once instead of doing them sequentially. Every time I go to the gym (about twice a week), I run on the treadmill for about half an hour and then I lift, alternating between legs and arms and back. I do some free weights, but mostly use the machines. And Gym Nemesis is always doing legs the same day I am, and arms and back the same day I'm doing those. So, basically, no matter what machine I'm using, he's there, asking to switch in with me. I don't mind switching in with someone, but couldn't he just use one machine at a time instead of moving in a circuit and constantly interrupting everyone, and by everyone, I mean me? To make matters worse, he's like 5'3" and lifts double what I do, so I have to reset the damn settings every single time. Aaargh! And he's a tank top spandex wearer! And sweaty! And annoying! I hate him with the fire of a thousand suns.

Lucky and unlucky

Last night, I went to the Celtics game and saw them lose in the last second to the Wizards. It's been depressing watching the Celtics these past couple of years. Some people may blame Doc Rivers for the team's failings, but in my eyes, there's only one culprit, GM Danny Ainge. Everything has gone downhill since he took over. Anyways, the lucky part of the game was the fact that I had SWEET seats, and for free, due to the fact that my friend Jason has a part-time gig as the assistant to Lucky, the Celtics Leprechaun, so his wife Sarah and I got to watch Jason do things like carry around the enormous neon green hands Lucky uses to pump up the crowd and load t-shirts into a t-shirt cannon. Good times. I was lucky again, as during the game, my friend Lisa called to see if I would like to join her for a Bruins game tonight, because she had won a luxury box in a charity raffle. To my dismay, my luck then ran out, because you know how people have Bad Hair Days? Well, I'm having a bad science day. I know I'm breaking my personal policy of not talking about my exciting-to-me, boring-to-others job, but I've been collecting RNA for about a month and just received the analysis today and found out that it's all crap, and a negative control that isn't supposed to do anything is killing all of my bacteria. Blah.
You know who else is unlucky? The Kings, for trading Peja for Captain Crazy Ron Artest. Maybe he'll win them some games for a month, maybe two, but at some point in the future, he will self-destruct, just as he has with every other team he's ever played for. If Larry Bird couldn't knock any sense into Ron-Ron, no one can.

Google search death match

Watch two terms battle it out on Google Fight.
Check it out: Tom Brady whomps on Peyton, Stones beat Beatles, and Coke edges out Pepsi. All is right with the world. Except for the fact I'm still fucking around on the internet instead of doing actual work.

link courtesy of Toeing the Line

There's a new internet map in town

Windows has gotten in on the mapping and image game with Windows Live Local. Click on Bird's Eye View for actual aerial photographs, none of that fuzzy sattelite crap. It's not available in all areas, but I found my apartment. Look, you can even see me waving from my bedroom window. Topless. (kidding)

East Coast- West Coast rivalry revival

Remember the hilarious SNL rap about the Chronicles of Narnia? Well, the West Coast has come up with a response. Cute, but I think the East Side has won this battle. Representin'!

Courtesy of Off on a Tangent

Warning: long, introspective post ahead

Most of you are probably aware that I was in the Peace Corps in Nicaragua from 1999-2001. To this day, whenever someone finds out, they tend to perk up and ask "How was it?" and I automatically give a generic response like "I'm really glad I did it" or "It was a great experience" because I don't have it in me to try to explain it to someone else, to take two years and three months of joys and sorrows and fun and frustration and put it into words. I kept a journal the whole time I was there, and I haven't opened it, until today. Why? Partly because my departure and return to the United States was a very emotional time for me, and I haven't ever felt like delving into it. So, why did I open it? Today when I got home from work, there was a package waiting for me. My sitemate Paige and her husband, who is from the small community where Paige and I lived, went back to visit and I took advantage of their trip to send some gifts and letters to my host family and friends from the town. Keeping in touch has been difficult, mainly because there is no mail service to rural Nicaragua. The package I received today contained some letters and gifts that people had sent back to me via Paige, and of course, a bag of rosquilla. For those of you unfamiliar with rosquilla, they are cornmeal-based cookies that are extremely popular in Nicaragua, but definitely an acquired taste. The letters were so sweet and so touching, filled with memories, gossip, and statements like “You are part of our family. Come back soon.” I didn’t actually help anyone, and it wasn’t “the toughest job you’ll ever love,” it was more like, “hey, find yourself something to do and we’ll see you in a couple of years,” but realizing that just the fact that my being there, in some small way, touched the lives of all of these people made the whole thing worth it. So, what’s in the journal? A lot of things I had forgotten about. And lists like these:

Favorite Things About Nicaragua:
My friends
Having kids around all the time
watching novelas with the whole family
the sound of a rainstorm on a tin roof
greasy (but yummy) food
weak, sugary coffee
riding horses
warm, fresh tortillas
blue and white uniforms on schoolchildren
dancing lessons in la sala
Flor De Caña (Nicaraguan rum)
the smell of the woodstoves
the buses, especially chasing after one and jumping in the back
the stars on a clear night
vaccinating chickens
fresh air, beautiful scenery
piñata parties
wild monkeys and sea turtles
finally feeling like I fit in

Least Favorite Things About Nicaragua:
mud
bedbugs
the latrine
lice
having to iron everything
no mail service
skinny, starving street dogs
lard in all my food
how everyone believes that it’s bad to bathe when you’re sweaty
everyone gossiping about you
machismo
eating when I’m already full because it’s rude to say no
no alone time
pregnant girls
lying, cheating men
being constantly worried about getting robbed, mugged, etc.
having nothing to do
feeling like I can’t be myself
everyone asking me for money
rats and big spiders
ticks!
Constant diarrhea
Everyone calling me fat

So there you have it. That’s what it was like.

81 points or not, I still don't like him

Kobe scored 81 points in a single game earlier this week, second only to Wilt Chamberlain's 100 points back in 1962 . No word on how close he is to Wilt's 20,000 (and I can't believe no one else has made that joke yet). How did this happen? He is talented and all, but seriously, couldn't the Raptors have guarded him better? If no one could handle him alone, double team him. If that doesn't work, triple team him. If that doesn't work, knee him in the nuts. Do something! Anything to prevent someone dropping 81 on you. I have never liked Kobe as a player or a person, even before the whole rape trial. He's a Laker and a ball hog. Here's hoping that my favorite player wins his fifth NBA scoring title this season, and not Kobe.

Not so brilliant disguise

The Australian prisoner who lost enough weight to slip out of jail through a six inch hole was recaptured after being spotted at a mall with a lame disguise.

"The man was wearing a fake painted beard and mustache," said Noel O'Regan-Davis, 18, who watched the arrest. "It looked hilarious."

Apparently the prisoner has some mental health problems, which isn't funny at all, but a beard drawn on with a pen? Now that's funny.

Wine teeth

I get the worst red wine teeth ever. Most people get a touch of wine teeth when they drink the red stuff, but mine are terrible! One glass of cabernet and my teeth are dark gray, plus I get this weird black lipliner effect to boot. What gives? Maybe I should just not drink red wine in public, ever, but I don't really care if I look like a gray-toothed weirdo, I'm just curious why it happens to me so much worse than everyone else. Or maybe I only think it's worse for me. No, I really do get it worse than everyone else, except for one of Eri's friends, who also gets the gray teeth, black lipliner combo.

Let it snow

Yay, just like that, my winter blahs have vanished! The cause of this giddiness? A snowstorm. I love snow. I'm not a big fan of winter, but the way I figure, if it's going to be cold outside, it might as well snow. I may be biased because I do not have a driveway or a car, therefore, snow does not equal shoveling. Snowstorms in the city are fun: everything looks pristine, everyone looks ridiculous tromping around it, everyone is late to work and it doesn't matter. Strangers smile and talk to each other, extremely rare behavior in these parts, with a "we're all in this together" vibe. Today's snow is perfect snowball snow. Fluffy and with enough moisture to pack well. I made one on my way to work, and once you make a snowball, you just HAVE to throw it. The snowball must fulfill its destiny. There were no people around, and I wouldn't have had the guts to throw it at someone I didn't know. I considered throwing it at a passing car, because that would have been hilarious- the driver would have looked around expecting a pack of kids only to find out that he/she had been hit by a 28 year old woman (seems weird to refer to myself as a woman, but I'm no spring chicken anymore, so I can't keep calling myself a girl, I certainly don't act like a lady most of the time, and the term gal annoys me, so woman it is) on her way to work. I wussed out and threw it at one of those plastic boxes that holds free newspapers instead. It did make a satisfying thwock sound and exploded upon impact, sign of a good snowball.

All work and no play...

...makes DCoE a dull blog. Sorry for the lack of entertaining tales; I'm feeling the post-holiday, post-vacation blahs, plus I have been working long hours in the lab lately, of which I will spare you the details, because, to be honest, I hate listening to other people talk about their jobs so I do my best not to talk about mine. Funny anecdotes about the workplace are acceptable, and I will make an exception for those people with truly exciting jobs (I once met a girl who is a lawyer, which normally sets of the "boring shop talk ahead" alarms in my head, but she deals in cases of stolen art and forgeries, so her work stories were captivating). In general, though, I don't want to hear about hedge funds or databases, and in return, I'll keep my mouth shut on the exciting world of bacterial toxins.
I'm also BROKE, which has also placed a huge damper on my social life, because my social life generally consists of me going out a bar and buying drinks, or me going to a concert, sporting event, or a movie, all of which come with a price of admission. Without money, my social life consists of me lying on the couch eating hot dogs and ramen and watching Law & Order reruns. Good times.
As for the title of this post, I always thought that the most terrifying part of The Shining was when you find out that all Jack has been typing for months is the same sentence, over and over. That's way scarier than the creepy twins or Jack with the axe or anything else, because in that scene you realize how completely nutso he's gone. While we're on the subject of The Shining, here it is, in 30 seconds, re-enacted by bunnies.