My Horrible Thoughts on Religion

I'm a bad person. If you really know me, you know this. I talk more shit than anyone I know, I make fun of every group of people imaginable, and I use horribly inappropriate slurs for fun. I'm lazy, I'm forgetful, and I am awful at keeping up with my friends. Know this, and know that you should never take anything I say seriously, because I have no right to claim knowledge on anything nor can I truly make fun of anyone being that I have so many faults.

Now, that being said, I can't help but automatically judge someone when I find out they are religious. And, the more religious, the more I judge them. Let's take it down to the basics here: if you're a Christian, you believe in the Bible. And yeah, there are those (smarter) Christians that see the Bible as an allegory and don't take most of it literally. They see that many of the silly rules (mixed fibers, no pork) are just remnants of an ancient society and that they don't really apply to society today. But....there are those fundamentalists that SAY they believe in every word (although they sure seem to pick and choose what they remember from it). And those people? I can't help but think they are either stupid as fuck or crazy as hell.

Really? You believe everything? Maybe you should read a little more. Do you believe that women have to cover their hair in church and that they should be kept apart when on their period? Killing your child because God told you to? Have you read the passages that condone slavery?

Anyway, it just makes me sad how much of this stupid country is ruled by silly little religious rules. Live life the way you want, try to spread your word but not force it. Lead by example, not by an iron fist. If gays want to marry, that's not going to keep you from going to heaven. If I want to kill a tiny bundle of cells in my damn body leave me be. How about you try to focus on education (sex ed, not abstinence, you idiots, it doesn't work) or on giving money to people that can't afford children? How about you adopt some kids instead of sitting back with a smug grin thinking you saved some babies by bombing a clinic?

Yeah, yeah, I'm ranting a bit. All I wanted to say is that I'm a judgmental bitch and if you tell me you believe the Bible is the word of God and that it is the truth that you must live by, I will think you are stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The end.

A Cure!

So, one of my blogs had a link for this:
Written?Kitten!

It proposes to cure writer's block by rewarding you with a new kitten every 100 words. I think it worked, check out my first 100!

"I love you so much. You'll never know, will you? Please take this gift with my regards and stuff it in your pants, sir. These are quality tested in our labs using only the finest of hams and cheeses. When you take an eye, and you cut it with a knife, just swipe the knife blade across and pop out the lens. Then pull up on the eye with your forceps and the retina will pop right out! Then you just throw that little retina in some liquid nitrogen, freeze it, and stick it in the minus eighty freezer. Easy peasy!"

If you can't tell, I was at work when I wrote that, thinking of love and eyeballs. And I was rewarded with this handsome siamese kitten. http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinksherbet/3694657781/
Go get your own! :-P

The Imposter

Its very common, so much so that it has a name--"Imposter Syndrome." Let me tell you my personal experience with it.

This grad school shit is hard....harder than I even thought. Before August, the last time I took a class was the spring of 2004. Anything I had learned from my basic Bio classes was mostly gone, and everything I had learned in my Biochem classes was toast. So, needless to say I was struggling a bit more than these 21 year olds in my classes that just graduated last semester with Chemistry minors (mine was History btw). Things that other people just breezed through, I was looking at like it was written in Aramaic. Tests that some people got 100% on I was failing.

So, I felt like I was pretending. Like I was playing a part, and people thought I was for real, but some day they were going to find out. My classmates would realize I was stupid and wouldn't want me in their study groups. My mentor would realize I wasn't going to make it and talk me into dropping out. Or, worse, I would just have to drop out because I failed everything. No one realized that I'm not supposed to be here! I can't be a real scientist! AGH!!!!

But, every once in a while something happens that makes me realize that firstly, I'm far from the only one feeling this way. I don't have the highest grades in the class, but I'm definitely not the worst off, and I'm probably right about average. There are things I understand much better than other people, just like there are things those same people understand more than me.

I'm not the only one with ridiculous acne from the stress, I'm not the only one losing sleep and accidentally napping during seminars. I'm not the only one trying to make excuses to get out of lab work so I can furiously work on my take home tests, and I'm definitely not the only one falling behind in my lab work.

Also...things happen that make me realize I am a real scientist. I just have to realize that I am a scientist in training. I'm not expected to be on my own yet. I'm just expected to be learning.

Anyway...I think I've started to ramble (blame the anxiety-induced sleeplessness). The point of all this is that I'm tres excited. I went to a seminar today by one of our collaborators from England. He's pretty famous for gene therapy trials in humans. I spent at least 6 months doing immunofluorescence on eye specimens that had been injected with his lab's vectors, and we published a great paper in which every single IF experiment was done by me. So, when I was introduced to him and he said that he remembered my name as the person with the "beautiful immunofluorescence imaging" I just about shit my pants with happiness (what, you don't crap when you're elated?). It was pretty much the proudest moment in my little scientific career. Maybe I'm not an imposter afterall...

SCIENCE

I'm a scientist. I'm a god damn scientist. Just thought I'd try that out. There was a running joke for a while because Mike had been talking about some random thing and I said "Well, as a scientist..." and then gave my jackassy opinion on the subject. At the time, I was a cashier at Whole Foods, so the whole "Scientist" title didn't fit me so well. So, any time Bamburg or Mike wanted to make fun of me, they'd say "As a scientist..." and we'd have a good chuckle about my idiocy. But here's the crazy thing...I'm a scientist now. I have Projects and Publications and Collaborators and mouse lines that I, by myself, bred and genotyped and now maintain. I have a Field. I can talk about checking the literature for more information about whatever I'm working on, I can make small talk with other researchers at a conference, I can take meaningful notes during a seminar that will later pertain to my work and help me better my data. I have real questions that I don't always feel stupid about asking. It kinda feels sometimes like I'm a kid playing dress up...and it is weird.

Two things happened today to make me feel a little more legit and less like I'm trying to put on a scientist suit and play pretend. I had my first ever presentation where my heartbeat didn't raise, I didn't start sweating profusely, and my face didn't turn cherry red. I competently presented data that 2 days ago I read and thought "what the fuck does that mean?" Sure, it was just for Journal Club, a class that requires a poop-ton of work but yet is only worth one measly credit hour. But it was my first non-freak-out presentation! That is worth fuckin' celebratin'.

We also had a symposium today for the eye institute, with lots of seminars about lots of different aspects of eye research. And I enjoyed it! I actually got something out of several of the lectures, and I am actually going to find a couple of the researchers so I can ask them further questions about their data to try and figure out how to better my imaging methods! I didn't just go and nap or zone out. Weird.

So, although there is a party tonight to go along with the symposium, and I really thought about going, because I need to get to know these people so I can pick out my committee for my dissertation...I'm doing something awesome. I've been so damn stressed this week (see....my first F in grad school from Monday) and I just need to celebrate these small victories before another round of grueling tests.

I promise I'll write a more interesting blog next time...and it will include headless babies. And halloween talk....

Bye!

Tour of My Madness

I've never been one for interior decorating. I've more been one for collecting pretties and piling them in a corner to get dusty. And piling trash, papers, "goodwill stuff", etc...

But, I think I finally am starting to like the way my house looks. I still need to clean, need to organize, need to hang more art, but there are things I look around and I LOVE. Let me be vain and share some things with you! (good and bad...) Click on the pictures to see'um all big.

Here you can see my sexy bike I got free from a friend who moved, my awesome cheap estate sale rocking chair, the bedside table from my brother's childhood bedroom that I thankfully got from Mom before the tornado, and our lovely record collection. The David Bowie boxed set on the top of the shelves is what I used to propose to Mike, so it gets prominent display (plus, its awesome anyway). Oh, and there's Jane, napping.


Mah purdy mantle. I love having a fireplace, even if its just a gas stove in there. This is where our tv was until a short time ago when we got tired and rearranged all the furniture. Also, I will never live in a house that has anything but wood floors. For someone who is not in the least germ phobic, carpet icks me out. You can see and feel when wood floors are dirty (and you know, I don't clean them that often, but still). Carpet can hide stuff, and ew. Plus, it helps my allergy to not have all the dog hair trapped in the floor. I digress. Look at my mantle.

That deer makes me insanely happy right now. I got it a few weeks ago at a garage sale for 50cents. It has a hole in its back that I plan to put an air plant in. When I sit on the couch, I find myself staring at the damn deer and smiling. I'm strange. The cross stitch was done by my lovely cousin. The letterpress blocks are one of my obsessions, I found all of these in a bag for $2 at a garage sale on the same day as the deer. SCORE. I heart cigar boxes, and get all of mine from Mike's fave cigar store on 63rd, where all boxes are $1 and they always have pretty ones. Its hard for me not to own 50 of them, so I give them away at xmas so I can get new ones.

The painting is done by our bestie Jason. He doesn't really like it, but I love having something someone I know painted, and I like the colors in it. And that I have big gross teeth as one of the focal points of my living room. He also made the baby heads. They are ridiculously heavy and used to live in our scorpion's cage. RIP Bobby Peru... Also, more letterpress, and a picture of Lando all Russian old lady in a christmas scarf. Don't forget the weird random animal bone I found in the road one day.

Our pretty pretty red couch. It makes me happy, even piled with my school crap. Also ignore the crap piled on the coffee table. Look at our pretty dvd/bluray collection instead. That's not even all of it.


What I have dubbed my "reading nook" even though its just right beside the couch. Bought these from someone who got them from a closing Starbucks, and they are big and super comfy. Behind them is what's left of our once ginormous CD collection, as we've slowly changed everything but our absolute favorites to either record, digital, or both.

An example of the bad. No matter how often I clean it off, my kitchen table becomes a mess about a day later. At Leigh's bridal shower last week there was someone saying "Oh, that's a man for you, any flat surface and they'll pile stuff on it!" Yeah well, not in my relationship, its all me, baby. But there's a cool Flaming Lips poster and my sweet little Domokun couple in the back!

Gratuitous cute nephews shot! Plus baby Lynsie, small Mike, and bridal fair photo booth shots with Mom.


My fridge. Mike doesn't like that I cover it with found photos from New Orleans, or creepy pics of Billy Graham cut from the newspaper because "we're adults now, and don't live in a dorm." Bleh. Mom's fridge was always covered with random crap, and yeah, it mostly had to do with her kids, but I don't have kids so I have pictures I found on the ground of what looks to be a dying black child and I name them. The baby is little D-Lo, that dead woman (yes, she is dead, the picture was taken of her in the coffin) is named Eudora. You can't see the picture of Alvin and Quanetra that is below all of this. But I also have nice "adult" things, like my sweet little cousins up there, my niece and nephews, and the girl near the bottom is Pamela, the one I've sponsored in the Phillipines since 2002. Besides, that's his chainsaw and Synestro magnets. :-P

Finding the balance between Mike's asthetic and mine can sometimes be challenging. Luckily, for the most part we like the same things. Otherwise, we meet in the middle. For every cheesy ceramic Last Supper that I buy at a garage sale and hang in the hall to make me laugh (he hates it), there's a Dark Throne album art framed for him in the living room. I have the bunny bookends, he decides which books get prominent display (hint: the "natural medicine" and books about dogs go on bottom, the graphic novels and Hunter S. Thompson's go up top). I think its working out just fine. The main thing is that I need to get rid of about half of my crap, and I need to learn to organize. Anyone want any stuff? Otherwise I need to make a biiiiiig goodwill haul. Which is why there are no pictures of the bedroom or back room, being that they are just big piles of my crap. Worse than that table.

Eccentricities

It can be a bit hard to make friends when you're weird. And not weird in a cool way, I definitely don't mean that. Let's look at some examples here...

Firstly, and this is just a symptom of where I live, it is hard to make friends when you are not a Christian. There's the obvious--that church can come with a built-in set of people who you can relate to on at least one level...you know, religion...and if you don't have a church you don't have that. But also, you have to navigate the whole thing of everyone just assuming that you are Christian because you live in Oklahoma. I refuse to lie about my beliefs...but I also never offer them up for people to judge. Sure, there are some people who are Christian that I can be friends with. But there are plenty who I could NOT. I don't want to be preached to, invited to church functions, or be lectured in the least. My beliefs will never be changed by you, please deal with that. I would never expect to change your mind, don't expect to change mine.

Ok, a small rant, but let's continue. Beyond that, there's just the fact that I'm a weirdo. Some people would be eeped out by that fact that I don't shave. I'm not gonna shove a hairy pit in your face, but you know, it might peek out sometimes. Some people might not like that I'm currently obsessed with collecting dead things. I have jarred mice, a dried out toad, a pile of cicadas, and a few skulls. Also, I'm a filthy person, and no matter how much work Mike does to try and fight the rising tides of my piles of crap, it still is accumulating with frightening force.

It also doesn't help that I'm not very good at socializing. Deep down, I'm an extremely shy person. Extremely. I make up for it by being really loud and obnoxious once I get to know you....don't know how well that works, though. Also, I have a habit of willing to give up way too much information. I open up about innappropriate things a little too easily sometimes. Want to hear about my reusable menstrual pads? Probably not. And...I curse too much. Sometimes embarassingly so.

So...yep. The main reason I've been thinking of this is because I'm wondering if any of the other students in my classes will ever become true "friends" instead of just study buddies. Will I ever be able to let loose my crazy on any of them, or should I just keep it on the DL and talk over protein-protein interactions and keep it at that? Meh, we'll see.

I had a nice little group of friends in NOLA that I could hang with whenever, and pretty much be myself. Hopefully I'll get to that point again in OKC sometime, I just have to figure out how to meet more weirdos. Taking applications now, but you must have at least 2 of the following list: non-Christian, be ok with lots of cursing and possibly curse too much yourself, love horror movies, love Scrubs, interested in taxidermy, have a dog, Harry Potter nerd, Star Trek nerd, like hiking (but preferably either not too athletic or be willing to wait on a chunk to catch up to you), enjoy Thai food, be ok with the fact that I don't flush my pee, or still have a crush on Hugh Grant, Gary Oldman and/or David Thewlis. Any takers?

Why is it that we have to work for a living? Here's the thing...I don't think there is a job on this planet that would pay me enough to live off of that I would absolutely love. There are some lucky-ass people that live that dream. It will not be me.

In case you didn't know this about me--I'm probably the laziest person you'll ever know. I will do everything I can to do nothing. I will lie, cheat, possibly even stab just to get a night on the couch with Madmen or Tim and Eric. And chips and salsa.

What was my point here? Shit, I don't know. All I know is that I was just told that now that I have started school, not only is my workload pretty much the same (possibly more now that my beloved coworker left and I am the senior person in my lab despite the fact that the other 2 are effing doctors...), but I am also expected to stay 30 minutes later every day. That is 2 and a half hours of couch to ass time I'm missing out on PER WEEK! This is a tragedy, to say the least.

And yes, I know (Selina) that I'm griping WAAAAAAAY too much for being so lucky as to get paid to go to grad school and get such an opportunity to earn my PhD with pretty much no debt. And I'll work on the not griping part. But for now, my lazy ass self is having a very hard time transitioning into a full time student and full time lab manager/senior technician. I'm important hot-shit now, apparently, but my brain just wants me to fail and be a bum or a trophy wife. And I'm far too pretty for the first and not pretty enough for the latter, so I better just see this whole Doctor Lynsie thing to its end. So that maybe, just maybe, I can work really hard for a while, cure a big disease, sell the research to a drug company, save up a shitload, and then spend my remaining years sitting on my ass watching mindless TV and occasionally going hiking so I don't have a heart attack. Never stop dreaming, people.

Euphoria, Then the Unfamiliar Feeling of Failure....

I spent last weekend in Colorado for a bachelorette party. I've never been (heh, I typed peen at first) to a bachelorette before, but I do know this was probably the greatest one ever. But, I don't want to write about that right now.

Yesterday, I failed a test. Hell, I'm pretty sure I failed two tests. Now, we had around 7 tests, 6 of them take homes. One of those stupid take homes and the in class, I felt like a kindergartener being thrown into the SATs. I am not used to this.

We all are smart in different ways, I think. Sure, some people may only be smart in the way that they figure out how to survive while being a total jackass bum, but still. I happen to be really good at standardized testing--I LOVED the end of the year when we were younger and took all those stupid exams where you get to sharpen your #2 pencil and fill in bubbles for the day. Heaven, really. I'm also pretty damn good at last minute memorization. Learn the periodic table? All the bones in the body? The state capitals? Sure! I'll forget about it until about midnight the night before, but I will go into that bastard and get a damn A just about every time.

But, there are things I am not so great at. And I found out/was reminded of several of them for my first big exam period of graduate school. And it was hell! The night before, trying to finish my take homes, I melted into a big steaming pile of crazy weepy bitchiness and had a minor freakout on my poor boy who had been missing me for the 4 days I was gone to Colorado. So, I put myself to bed and set my stupid god damn alarm for 6am so I could get up, finish, and go in to take the other test.

And I walked in, read over the 5 questions on the exam, that were all on the same thing that he spent 3 powerpoint slides on (out of 90), that I looked over for maybe 30 seconds of the total 4 hour study time, and I thought, "Well shit. What should I do if I fail out of school in the first week?" And then spent the rest of my sleep deprived day barely paying attention to my work and being pissed off.

So, I went home and watched the last episode of RuPaul's Drag Race (amazing.), and thought, fuck it. What happens happens. But I will say that failure is not the greatest feeling, but I guess we all need it sometimes. Right?

Probably not.

This wasn't a very funny post, more whiny, so here is a picture of how I want my next husband to propose to me:

She Made Me Do It

I haven't blogged regularly since Myspace became uncool. I have a livejournal, but for some reason I just never loved that site. I still have an OpenDiary out in the world. Actually...that was the only blog I EVER really regularly wrote in. But that was waaaaay back when, when I was a lowly undergraduate. I have a wedding blog, here, but that's mainly just to keep my lovely cousin informed of the planning happenings way over here in Oklahoma.

What I NEED is a space to let the crazy out. I should not speak the way I want to to most people, so here we go! A place I can show you whatever I want of my mad genius inherent stupidity true nature. And so, since Selina told me to, I'm starting another blog. But I'm too lazy to learn another website, so we're starting here on good ole Blogger!

You're here either because I love you enough say what I want around you, or I don't give a shit about what you think.

I'm sure I still won't post regularly, being that I am in my first year of school again, and the homework is already kinda brutal after the first week. But I'm here, not so queer, and I live to serve. Now I'm going to go get my bridesmaid dress altered. I leave you with some pics of my favorite antique store find from my time in Weatherford. Check you later, homies.

Oh, hi! I'm just a little turtle, sittin on your shelf.


What? Well, that's quite a rude request, but I guess I can show you....





BAM! Turtle dick.