Xenopus: frogs that are stitched together

Sometimes, life sucks. And that causes you to have nothing to say but mean and angry things. So I will say nothing.

NOTHING.
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Today, I got a special email. A very very special email. Telling me about how I can eliminate my debt the Christian way. Who are these people? Well, they are the Christian Debt Removers. Yes, they remove debt from your life as a service to God. And with prayer and a couple of charitable donations to select ministries, you too can be debt free. It really irks me that people try to use God to sell their product. It just does not make any sense. God is not a marketing tool. At least I would not treat Him that way. Yet, that is what our society does. It is rather sad.

Here is a list of other Christian agencies that will help you out in your daily life:

Born Again Midwives- Guaranteed conversion of your new born child, or your money back

Saintly Shipping- packages Flying on the wings of angles

Loaves and Fishes Cafe- Home of the you can eat buffet

Knee Bending Physical Therapy- Healing the body by kneeling down in prayer

Jizz for Jesus- All our sperm are born again

Phone Christian- Home of the 4.9 cent Christian long distance rate

Gospel Oil and Lube- Free anointing every 3000 miles
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More about my trip to Sarasota. One night, there were some people going out and in my effort to become a more out going person, I decided to go with them. Unfortunately, they were going dancing. And not the classical dance, like you might see on Dirty Dancing or Strictly Ballroom, no, it was definitely BET style. Anyway, I am not a dancer. There is just something lacking in me when it comes to BET and Janet/Justin style dancing. Suffice it to say, if dancing is an indication of a costume malfunction, I would never have one.

So, I decided to do my favorite thing, watch people and make fun of them. Only, I was standing alone, laughing in my head. And what is it that makes guys think that a girl by herself is just an open invitation to guys? If I wanted a guy, I would go and find my own. But seeing how I was standing there by myself obviously sent off a signal that I was desperate. I was attacked on all sides and guys thought that it was ok to attack with a vengeance. Hand holding, leaning into my personal space. One schmuck decided that it would be ok to kiss my cheek. Even after my telling him that I was dating someone. So I decided that the best way to avoid it all was to dance with people I knew. So I did, only there were not any more guys available. So I avoided as best I could but there was this guy that decided that he would teach me to dance. And as payment, he would then try to touch my hands and my ass.

So, I put a stop to that. But he was a persistent little bastard. At the end of the night, he leaned in and I put my hand up and said thank you for teaching me to dance and I pushed him away. He looked pissed but then he leaned in again and said, will I see you tomorrow night? And I said I hope not. Ok. I did not really say that, but I wanted to. I just said, I doubt it. Which was effective enough because he left without any physical contact. I wish that I were not such a chicken.

So, to any bar hoping guy out there. Girls just want to have fun, not be harassed by you. We can find our own guys if we want you. But if not, stay the hell away. So that is the moral of this story. Stay the hell away.
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About my last post, I was thinking, I guess that you want to know what they were really talking about when they said "People with Alzheimers smell." What they really meant to say was that people with Alzheimers have a diminished ability to smell things in the environment. So, one of the side effects of Alzheimers is that you loose the ability to discriminate certain smells from one another. They were stating that this could be a diagnostic tool in identifying people with Alzheimers at an early stage, before they present with additional symptoms. The problem with that though is that there are a myriad of other neurological diseases that share this same symptom. But, well, this is not the interesting part. The interesting part is that:

People with Alzheimers smell.
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So, as you may or may not know, I went to a conference last week. It was a lot of fun. Because it was at the beach and I got to spend my free time at the beach and the pool. You can't beat that. I think that if I decide to get my PhD, I will look at different fields and see where their conferences are. If it is Alaska in December, I think that I will find a different field. If it is Sarasota in April, I will consider it.

Conferences are fun, but they are overwhelming. All this information so concentrated in one tiny area, it really starts to make you tired. Here is one thing I learned at my conference:

People with Alzheimers smell.

Ok, so that is not what the guy meant, but that is exactly what he said. It was hilarious. I was already pretty much tuned out by that point (you know how some speakers are, they drone on and one and never really give any background and just expect you to be able to read their mind) and when I heard that, I laughed out loud. I got a couple of evil stares from some intellectuals, but, I was making the best of a bad situation.

Otherwise, it was great. I spoke to a lady from Michigan, and she might have a job opening for me. So that would be wonderful. A job is always a good thing. I was looking up yearly trends in weather in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and it snows almost 10 inches three months during the winter there, and then some amount other months. I am not thrilled about that, but if I get some weather appropriate clothes, then it should not be a problem. And moving out of NC might be fun. But I am not sure because I never tried it. But I think that it is about time that I do try it. Well, that is all I am going to say now. I am getting tired and I still have a lot of work to do. So off to work it is for me.
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A friend of mine suggested that I get a comment field for my blog. Now here are the reasons that I don't want one. First of all, I rarely make comments, so the thought of others wanting to do that, well, it just boggles the mind. Secondly, I would be sad when people did not make comments because I would feel like I was unloved and unread, and I can't have that kind of stress on my ego right now. Thirdly, when I asked my friend why I needed one, they replied, I thought that I would tell some jokes on your comment field. And to that I say, get your own damn blog. Mine is for my boringness alone. I don't need your pity sympathy trying to make my ramblings bearable.

Stay tuned. I will have updates on my trip to Florida and my Conference coming in the next couple of days.

Peace out.
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While I am here in Florida, loving the sun, the sun is not loving me. What do I mean? You might ask. Well, here it is. I get a rash when exposed to the sun for too long. And here it is. Currently on my body. My sun rash. This is what it looks like.

Yesterday, I went to the Dali Museum in St. Petersburg. It was much fun, but there was this creepy guy that started talking to me. I was really glad that my dad was in the room. He asked me if I had been on a tour of the museum, and then he asked me if I was introverted (because of the way I was standing) and he asked me about my husband and kids (which I had to politely decline their existence). And then he asked me where I was from and asking more about me so I broke in with the I am dating someone card. They he decided to analyze our relationship. So here is my relationship, summed up by a creepy guy. We are both introverted. I am more detailed oriented. He is smarter than I am. Wow. That last comment made me feel really good. I guess that I am the stupid one. Anyway, I finally escaped the creepy guy and then went to the gift shop where my mom started making fun of this guy for going on three tours. Guess who that guy was? Yep, the creepy guy.

I wish that I could think of more to tell you. I know that there is more, but my brain has turned to mush. A side effect of vacationing. I will let you know more later. I am sure it will all come back to me soon. At least I think that it will.
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Note on the last post which caused confusion on the part of one of my readers: The leg was severed from the body of the frog. Therefore, if any communication was to occur, the leg would have to send a signal to the freezer and then a signal would be transmitted back. But, as far as I know, satellite dishes don't reside in the leg either.
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I don't have a title field for each of my blog entries, but if I did this one would read: "May My Student's Ignorance Shine On!" What precipitated this outburst, you may want to know. Well, here it is. I was grading again. First, let me present a bit of background information. (If you are an animal rights activist, I suggest that you stop reading right now.) Ok. Now that I got rid of those people, I will let you know what happened. In lab, we look at the neuromuscular system and do this using the hind leg of a frog. We can electrically stimulate a nerve in the leg and cause the calf muscle to contract.

So, I gave them a quiz, asking them about the different properties of muscle contraction. One question was, "Why is there a latent period between when you stimulate the nerve and when the muscle actually contracts?" (FYI: the latent period is the time that it takes from when you stimulate the nerve and when the muscle contracts.) The answer, provided by about half of the class, was that the signal from the nerve has to travel to the brain and then the brain has to tell the muscle to contract. I don't know about frogs, but I don't have a brain in my leg. If my leg was severed from my body, I would think that there would no longer be a connection between my brain and my leg muscle. Why this fact was so hard to recognize, I am not sure. And what gets me is that about half of the class answered it this way. Maybe one day, they will learn to think. I guess I have failed as a teacher.
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Today at 4:30, in true procrastination form, I mailed my taxes. While I was there, I saw a protestor. He was standing inside a little coned off area holding his sign. His sign exclaimed: "Taxes Suck. Honk If You Hate Taxes." On the reverse side of the sign, as an answer to all that ails the world, was a simple phrase, "Vote Libertarian". I walked into the post office thinking, what a waste of a day, but at least he gets to be outside. As I was leaving, there was an old man in an old person's car (you know the kind, a Crown Victoria or a Buick) with his window rolled down questioning the protestor. The protestor looked very uncomfortable. I imagine that the conversation went like this:

Old Man: So, you don't like to pay taxes?
Protestor: No, I don't.
Old Man: Do you realize that tax dollars paid for you to go to school?
Protestor: Well, yes.
Old Man: And tax dollars pay for the streets that you drive on.
Protestor: Um, well.
Old Man: So why is that bad?
Protestor: Hum. Um, I don't know.
Old Man: Come with me, I will make a Republican out of you yet. And if you get rich, the Republican party will make sure you never have to pay taxes again.
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As some of you may already know, I am going to Japan this summer. While you may think that it is exotic and exciting, I just want you to be aware of the perils that await me.
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Life, man, it can be rough. I remember when I was a kid and everything was easier. My biggest concern was that I had to go to bed when I wanted to play Hungry, Hungry Hippos. Yes. That was one of my favorite games. In the house I lived in when I was little, there were these louver doors that separated my sister's room and mine from the rest of the house. These doors let in just enough light, that I could see to play Hungry, Hungry Hippos when I should be sleeping. And I realized HHH was a loud game, so I would slowly push on the lever and slowly let the hippo eat a marble and then I would slowly let up on the lever, letting the hippo retract its head ever so slowly and then, plunk. The marble dropped into my special tray, letting me know that I was winning. (Well, that was not so hard when I was playing by myself.) And I would do that over and over. And then, the inevitable happened. My parents caught me and punished me.

Now there are a couple of things wrong with this story. First of all I picked quite a loud game to play. I mean, I should have known that marbles were never going to be quite. Second, isn't the point of the game to compete against each other and see who gets the most marbles? Somehow this concept escaped me. I mean, I really liked to play by myself. I mean, I even disobeyed my parents for the Hippos.
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Yesterday was Monday, yet I spent the day thinking it was Tuesday all day long. And then when Scrubs did not come on, I was sad. But now I know that today is Tuesday. I did my taxes today. And now I just need to mail them. I've got until Thursday, so there is no need to rush. In total, I am going to get 27 dollars back. That is a sweet deal. Well, not really. What can you really do with $27? I mean as far as big adventures go and all. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And now that I have waited so long to do my taxes, it will be even longer for that sweet refund to reach my pocket.

I have reacquainted myself with my lost love, quiche. I made one last night, after a year hiatus, and it was really good. It was stuffed full of the greatest things: feta cheese, roasted red pepper, onions, tomatoes and spinach. It made a yummy dinner last night and a good breakfast this morning. Home cooked food is so good, it makes me wonder why I waste so much of my time and money at restaurants. I guess that it all comes down to laziness and instant gratification. Oh American culture, why have you conditioned me to be this way? One day I will break free from your grasp.

I think that I will order a pizza for dinner tonight.
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I do not know how many of you are aware of the TV show "Made" on MTV but, well, I have this desire to watch it all the time. I guess that I admire the people for actually taking the step to say, "I want to be Made." Or as a normal human would say, I want to do this thing that I always wanted to do and I am going to let MTV help me. There are tons of things that I want to do with my life that are out of the ordinary and things that I would not be able to do on my own. But instead, I just stay my own little self. So, I live vicariously though the life of strangers. And I confidently tell myself, I would never whine and cry like they do on the show. Well, one day, I want to be Made. It is just that by the time I get around to that, I will be too old for MTV to want to help me. Did you guys know that I am going to be 26 soon? It is rather scary. Up till now, I have had the luxury to say that I am in my early 20s. I know that it is a stretch at 25, but it is something that I say anyway. And now, that is going to be taken from me. Isn't it bad enough that I live with relatives and am in school? Do I really need to be doing all that in my late 20s? Wow. I must sound pathetic on paper. But I am sure you know better than to think that.

Oh, and here is something else that sounds pathetic on paper. I am going to a professional conference next week and my parents are coming with me. How bad does that sound? But because of them, I don't have to share a room with anyone. And I am going to get to go down on Saturday instead of waiting until Tuesday, which is great since it is at teh beach. So I guess it all works out in the end. With "it" being my patheticness.
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Sometimes, a human is their own worst enemy. I am talking about me right now. Sometimes I annoy me. Like right now. My experiment was not working earlier and now I don't want to test and see if what I did to try to fix it worked or not. I am basically scared to find out. So instead, I am avoiding the situation by doing other work. Sometimes, I really annoy me. Oh well, I am going to work now. I have avoided the situation long enough. Or maybe I will go to the library to get a movie. And then I will work while I watch a movie on my computer. Now that sounds like fun.
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Dearest Blog Reader:

As you are all aware, we only have a limited amount of time alive on this earth and so, I am afraid that one day you are going to wake up and wonder: Why do I waste my time reading this thing? So I am here to make it worth your time. Life teaches us things and I have decided that whenever I learn anything from life, I am going to share it with you. That is my gift to you. I am going to give you the benefit of my experiences so that you learn from me and are then able to live a more fulfilling life. So here it goes.

Lesson one. Whiskey can act as a cough suppressant in a pinch.

Lesson two. Bathroom cups are quite a bit larger than shot glasses.

Lesson three. When drinking to suppress a cough, it still can make you drunk. So taking an additional "dose" is not recommended. Especially when your doses are quite large to begin with.

Lesson four. Coughing and hangovers do not go well together. This is ripe breeding ground for major headaches.

Ok. That about sums it up for me. I hope that you enjoyed these lessons from the life of Sallie. More to come later so keep it tuned right here.
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About my presentation, someone gave me a testimonial about my talk and this is what he had to say: (remember, this is him, not me)

"Your seminar kicked ass."

Sorry if I offended anyone with my language, but I just wanted to you know what others think, since you were not there to experience it first hand.
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Yesterday, I completed yet another part of my graduation requirements. I gave my departmental seminar about my research. It was way nervous but people seemed to think that I did a swell job. Jonathan came to see me and he even said that I did a swell job. Just ask him. And so, we celebrated. Winston really does not have much over Raleigh, but we reveled in what it does have. We ate yummy wings and hot chips (fresh made potatoe chips that are just the most perfect that I have ever eaten). And then today for lunch, we had Miss Annie's, a French, Caribbean restaurant that is really good. Also, we watched a great movie last night, Eternal Sunshine of the spotless Mind. And, since there was nothing else great to do in Winston, I went back to work. And Jonathan went home. Kind of sad that my city sucks so at times, but then again, it allows me to not have any excuse as to why I should not work.

On another note, this time next week I will be packing for Sarasota, Florida. I am going there for a conference and I am going down for the full week. One week at the beach. Sometimes, being a scientist rocks. I think that I am totally going to look at where the annual conferences are held before I pick a field to go into if I ever get my PhD. I mean, who wants to go to Atlanta every year or somewhere like that. I need more excitement than that. Ok. I have to work now. Poor me.
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Someone got to my site by searching for Xenopus Frogs. Now, I know, that is not all that exciting nor is it surprising. The thing is, I did the same search to see where I came up on the list and this is the surprising part. I came up before Xenopus Express. The company that I ordered my frogs from. (But that was for research. You can't just go there and get one for your own personal use, at least I don't think that you can) I just think that is ironic. That something like this can come before something that is actually useful. Well, I am just glad that you took the time to read this and then become disappointed. Oh, and I still don't have a digital camera, so no pictures of my frogs for you. And besides, I really do need to clean out their cage, and well, I have not done that yet. So even if I did have a camera, I would be embarrassed to use it right now on my frogs.

On other news, I still have not found the Power Joy for those of you who were interested. But I did find this. I thought that you might like it. Now, I am not making any claims about its greatness, because I don't own it. But I thought that you might still want to know about its existence.
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I am the meanest person in the world. Today, I told two of my students that they have to rewrite their papers because they were plagiarizing. They were not really plagiarizing, but they are roommates and their papers were really similar and well, I just don't know which one was primarily doing the thinking. I feel so mean for doing this do them, making them rewrite the papers and all, but well, that is my job. I also told one student that I was not going to grade her paper at all. They turned in a 5 page paper and we tell them that 3 pages is their limit. I am not going to spend my time reading all that extra crap. So I said I was just not going to grade it. I don't feel all that bad about that one. I just hate that it took me so long to tell them that. I mean, I have had their papers for a week and a half now, and well, I guess that I am very good at avoidance.

So, here is another great thought from one of my students. Putting a syringe into a frog's leg is like putting a baseball bat into a humans leg. Yeah. That is exactly the same scale. I don't know about you, but if you put a baseball bat into my leg, well, that would take up over half of my leg space. A syringe is just not that big in comparison to a frog's leg.

Oh, and I bet that the person that can't use a syringe also can't use a baseball bat. What do you want to bet? It kind of makes me wonder about the syringe person. I mean, a syringe is not really all that complicated. Do you think that they can use a stove? A knife? How about a saw? Or here is a scary one, a chain saw. Ok. Enough of this meanness. I have already been enough of a jerk for the day, I really don't need to keep adding to my resume.
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I have finally gotten the strength to get out of bed. Being sick is a bitch. I have done absolutely no work recently and now I am going to pay. There is more to do than there is time to get it all done. But, I decided to blog anyway. I mean really, what is more important? Graduating and my students or my mental sanity? I have to vote for mental sanity. I did start grading papers and boy, are they painful. Red marks everywhere. Here is my favorite sentence so far. (And remember, these are supposed to be scientific papers.)

"Also, the syringe is a tricky tool to use."

I did not make this up. I mean it. You can't makes this kind of shit up. Well, at least I can't. If I find anything that compares to this masterpiece, I will make sure to share it with you. I really don't remember what I was like as a freshman, but I still contend that I was never like this. And if you know otherwise, well, let me live in oblivion.
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Some of you may know this but I will explain for those of you who don't. I am cheap, as in I don't like to spend money not as in a discount whore. Anyway, my cheapness prevents me from buying a parking pass on campus and as a result, I have to walk through the woods to get to school. Now, it is a paved trail, and there are lights along it and all, but my parents are still worried that I am going to get raped or mugged or kidnapped or murdered. Even in broad day light. When ever I leave school late they say, now you did not walk to your car did you? I mean, it is a big deal to them, and I thought that they were crazy until yesterday. Yesterday, I almost got killed. There were all these little people there (some people like to call them kids) and they had their stick guns and they were target practicing with their invisible bullets. One of the bullets pretty much hit me and I just barely missed getting speared with a gun. It was scary. I thought I had been captured there for a minute, but I escaped. But be careful around those little people. They will just shoot you with reckless abandon. You too could become a target.
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