I am offended to the point of blogging.  Yesterday while walking to school I stopped to look in a window of a fashion boutique.  The manequin was wearing a pair of jeans and a simple, tight fitting tank top.  I knew I had no hope of fitting into the jeans displayed and have mostly come to terms with the fact that manequins seem to have been getting thinner over the years and the fashion world is still not ready to dress people of my size.  My size being healthy and not stick thin.  (See pics if you want proof)  After countless dissapointed sighs in the dressing room I've come to grips with the fact that fashion doesn't fit.  But I had hope, I thought that things would get better and women wouldn't be made to feel terrible if they were over 100 pounds. 

 

Apparently I was wrong.  After taking a better look at the manequin at the shop I realized that proturding through the tight fitting tank top was a manufactured rib cage.  I could point out three ribs below the breast!  A manequin, designed to hold all the flawless qualities of the body was sculpted with an emanciated torso.  I was appalled.  What kind of a message is this?  "These clothes will look good on you only if your bone structure is visible"?  "Don't eat for two weeks before you come and try out our styles"?

 

The worst part was, in the face of this hideous message, I walked away thinking I could stand to lose an extra 5 pounds.  When you are brainwashed its hard to break free.

I was reading some journal articles today to verify the that 25 reactions I randomly chose to describe my experiment were actually physcially possible.  So far I've been inputting data and using it with already defined equations and seeing if it makes physical sense.  For those not in the scientific know this translates into the equivalent of Numerical Madlibs.  Nothing special. 

 

But today I came across the name for these types of calculations.  Bear in mind that this is nothings special and takes more strength in the face of tenacity than brains.  According to the Journal of Physical Chemistry I am carrying out Quasirelativistic Density-Functional Calculations!  Whooho!  I can at least describe my research and sound like a mini-Einstien, even if I don't know what I'm doing.

 

 

 

"Development of Surface Reaction Mechanism for

the Catalytic Partial Oxidation of Methane on Dual Bed

Platinum/Nickel Short Contact Time Reactors

using Quasirelativistic Density-Functional Calculations

and Computational Fluid Dynamic Software"

 

by The Plain Clothes Ninja

 

(an awful lot to say I've taken an experimental crapshoot and am now

trying to explain my reason for having spent so much money on it)

I have been battling an ant problem in my bathroom.  It was really getting to me.  They were scurrying everywhere but hadn't reached any food stuffs so I didn't pay it too much attention.  But then came the weird larvae things, which were disgusting.  Then came the ants to eats these disgusting larvae things alive.  *Shudder*  It became too much for me.  Out came the ant traps. 

 I once read a book that was prefaced by a quote which I will hideously paraphrase now, "Be it an ant or and elephant, death is the same."  So I've taken this way too close to my heart and spent a great deal of time watching these poor ants eat the poison, start walking funny and then starting to convulse.  I did the only thing I could, I watched for ants that seemed to get the worst of the poison and on the verge of tears I mercy squished them.  See, the problem is not the infestation of ants crawling all over my bathroom, but the fact that I had to eventually kill them.  It's very unsettling.

 

So this problem sadly destroyed I opened my curtains today to face about 20-30 houseflying buzzing around happily.  There is a hole in my screen, it's too hot to sleep with the window closed and I'm near the dumpster at the back.  This was an inevitable problem.  I'm going to sew the hole up tonite and then become "Christa the Destroyer" once more. <sigh>

It's very much a ho-hum day here in the office.  I set myself up to do some fun and interesting work on the simulator but was cut down my prof.  Ugh.  So I've reread papers, will probably make some graphs and generally sulk on account of slow moving research.  In the face of all this boring an tedious work I've had to improvise to keep myself awake.  Good thing I watched "Pirates of the Carribean" last night because I've decided to become a pirate.

 

Yes the pirates life is the life for me.  Courtmartialled in the British navy for having been too sassy I've hoisted the flag of the skull and crossbones and set to sea for more lucrative adventures.  It true, I collect booty and drink rum.  Of course I had to dress as a boy to get into my crew, women are bad luck on ships you know.  However, by the time I was discovered I had so thoroughly built my reputation as the toughest bastard aboard that me mates wouldn't dare oppose me even if I told them to eat gunpowder and go for a smoke.  I eventually mutinied my own captain, and after some of my finest swash buckling I had him walk the plank at the tip of a sword.  He begged so earnestly to join my crew I took mercy upon him and he is now the best damn galley cook we e'er 'ad.  I led me crew on to adventure and booty on the high seas and we all be rich men.  I've retired my flag for now and I be toiling away at this blasted thesis, clasped in iron to me desk.  When it be done I'll be gathering meself a new crew of sea worthy bandits and taking to the seas of adventure once more.  I'm sick of the land lubbin' scally wag of a graduate degree!  Master?!? Arrrgh, I already be a Captain!  Give me booty, rum and wenches and I be sailing until I gets meself to the door of Davy Jones' Locker. 

 

(Ahh... if only...)

I excuse myself in advance but I have to share my new love of snot.  (If this sentence disgusts you I don't recommend reading further, it will only get much, much worse)  I was sick last weekend.  That nasty- my-head-is-swimming- I'm-tired-all- the-time-uggggh kinda sick.  Then I got better.  Better in the sense I didn't feel like I was going to die anymore.  In fact, I felt great.  The only problem was that all the stuff that was making me sick, i.e. snot and throat mucus, hadn't fully made its way out of my system.  No indeed not.  It congealed. 

 

Now since I was "feeling" much better all my cognitive senses were in order to fully appreciate this decongestive process.  Here are my findings.  SNOT IS THE MOST ENTERTAINING SUBSTANCE EVER!  No really, when I feel my head getting nasaly and all my v's are pronouced as b's I know its time to reach for that tissue and blow.  I can feel the chunks of badness flying out of my head and hitting the back of the tissue with a satisfying *thwack*.  Then I feel like I've done that much more to rid my system of this marvelous mucus.  And we aren't talking that watery clear, snot that just comes down like an incovient stream while you are actually feeling too sick and too slow to wipe it away.  This is congested, settled in, stubborn snot we are talking about.  I feel so good when I check the tissue and find the custard like substance.  Now its on the outside, not the inside.  Really if you think talking about blowing your nose is disgusting, picture the stuff pooling in your sinuses and then tell me which is worse.  So, since I'm doing it every 10 minutes I've come to appreciate blowing my nose.  I've created a rating system based on colour and consistancy.  There is a certain pride when you look at it and say "I made that".  Bonus points if when you throw it out it hits the bottom with a satisfying thud.

Who would have thought that the advice of millions would actually be good?!  I had a problem.  It was bugging me.  I was looking for it to go away but it wasn't so I tried something new.  Instead of avoiding it and putting it to the back of my mind I thought it out.  I spoke it aloud.  It felt good.  It felt so good infact that while I was busy problem identifying I came up with the solution!  The whole thing only took 15 minutes!

 

So here is my advice of millions to you.

 

"To thine own self be true."

 

May it be to respect your own hopes and dreams or to stop lying and telling yourself everything is just fine.  Listen to what you think and feel and make you own choice for you and you alone.   

 

*Head Smack*  I've even heard that from my mother.  Just takes 25 years to figure it out.