Evolution, Schmevolution!

Recently the school board in Dover, PA ruled that intelligent design could be taught alongside Darwinian evolution, in science classes - until a group of 11 parents decided to challenge the decision in court, on the grounds that intelligent design is merely creationism in disguise, and is therefore unconstitutional (the grounds being separation of church and state).

The Dover parents that took the situation to Federal Court heard the testimony of a leading architect of the intelligent-design movement defend his ideas in the courtroom and acknowledge that under his brand new sparkly definition of a scientific theory, astrology would fit as neatly as intelligent design.

Um, yes, but see, that's exactly the problem, Dumbass. Astrology isn't a science either. By expanding the definition of "scientific theory" to include intelligent design, you’re admitting that intelligent design is, as it stands now, NOT a science.

See, scientific theory requires that hypotheses be tested, so that they can be discovered as true or false. In other words, any scientific theory must be falsifiable (i.e. what you’re doing to Darwinian Evolution, making it a science). Intelligent design, which attributes the origins of life to a mysterious intelligence (God - wink, wink) is not provable or disprovable. AND THEREFORE NOT A SCIENCE!

*Rampages*

It seems the definition offered by the National Academy of Science, the largest and most prestigious organization of scientists in the Western world, was inadequate to contain the scope and splendor of intelligent design. So… they just up and changed the definition of science entirely. Good decision. Excellent choice.


Today I give a big shout out to my old home state of Pennsylvania for finally doing the right thing on Election Day. On Tuesday, all eight school board members up for re-election were booted out. In their place are those who campaigned against the teaching of intelligent design in science class.

I cheered when I heard the news and proclaimed that it indeed was "a great day for education" (what the KS BOE said after they voted to make the teaching of the principles of intelligent design mandatory).


*goes off on a tangent*

Speaking of the Kansas Board of Education…

Listen, if you want to discount evolution and fossil record, go ahead. Evolution is a theory, and though well based in scientific facts, there are a few problems and missing links in the fossil record. This is why it’s a theory. But it’s still science.

Meanwhile, if you must make the teachings of intelligent design mandatory, it should be done in a religion or philosophy course, where it belongs. The fact that evolution is too complex for you to understand doesn’t mean it needs to be attributed to a higher intelligence… it just means you’re not all that smart. I mean… Science class is just not the proper venue for this subject. Teach it elsewhere.

When your kids grow up and move on to college, they’re going to be in for a rude awakening. Colleges and universities will not teach alternatives to evolution in their introductory biology courses. And most philosophy classes are going to question existence entirely. Don’t be so closed minded as to influence young minds so early.

And if that is what you think the science class is doing, I suggest a whole new course devoted to this subject. Teach every theory out there. Evolution, intelligent design, creationism, the beliefs of those that follow the Flying Spaghetti Monster (http://www.venganza.org/) … all of it. In a class not labeled as science.

I wasn’t lucky enough to learn about evolution in school. My school board thought it necessary to completely shirk the issue. Avoiding it is also not the answer. I wasn’t introduced to evolution until college… and trust me; it was more difficult to handle, never having a background on the information. This is also not the way to go. Boo Blue Mountain. Boo on you.

*goes back to original topic at hand*


But anyway… back to Dover…

Today, on the news, I heard this: (it just keeps getting better)

The Reverend Pat Robertson told Pennsylvanians who voted the members of the Dover Area school board out of office for supporting intelligent design have also rejected God as well.

He’s quoted as saying, "If there is a disaster in your area, don't turn to God. You just voted God out of your city."

Now, I don’t know much about anything religious… but I was always under the impression God was the forgiving sort. And just because the town’s voted to teach science in the science classroom doesn’t mean that they are not religious folk. I’ve gotten the opposite impression living in the region.

But the fact that Robertson is even suggesting the area be struck by disaster in the wake of Katrina and Rita and Wilma and the tornadoes in Indiana is insensitive and obtuse of him. It's frustrating. This dude totally needs to shut the hell up. Yeah, I said hell in regards to Reverend Pat Robertson. He’s not spreading God’s ideals, he’s being an asshole.

Besides, God isn't going to smite his followers because of a silly election. And if he does, who would want to believe in that kind of God anyway?

*Rampages more*

I am and always will be a scientist at heart. And while I am proud of the voters in Dover, I am still sad for the state of affairs in Kansas. It’s a giant step backwards in science education. And although I encourage questioning and curiosity for advancements in the field, this is not the way to go.

*Heavy sigh*

End Blog.

I Spy

From my vantage point in front of the computer, I spy, with my little eyes something that ...

[1] Is red: *looks around for quite some time until…* The red key fob on my spare key to the Escape. *realizes I overlooked a Dr Pepper can and red pen sitting right under my nose*

[2] Is shiny: A small blue mirror on my desk reflecting light from the window. Ooo, shiny.

[3] Is ugly: The mess that is my desk. Especially the junk sitting in the plastic bin in front of me. And also the frame on that Madonna poster. It’s coming apart. I should fix that. Oh, and my LVC diploma frame that is still sitting with nothing in it.

[4] Is made of wood: My desk! Easy peasy.

[5] Is sharp: My pocket knife. That really shouldn’t be sitting open, now should it? I could cut myself and bleed out and… ooo, that’d be something red.

[6] Is blue: A matchbook from Continental, a pool lounge in Rosslyn. Not like lounge by the pool with a drink, more like a lounge that has drinks and a pool...table.

[7] Should be in the garbage: The empty Dr Pepper can and cottage cheese container. I have stuff that should be in the dishwasher, too. And the medicine cabinet. But I’m not telling you about them.

[8] Makes you smile: The picture of Savvy as a little baby puppy, taken before we could bring her home. Wanna know what makes me sad? LVC didn’t send me a new calendar this year. *looks at calendar stuck on August* So sad.

[9] Doesn’t belong: Other than the garbage? My toothbrush. How’d that get in here?

[10] You doubt anyone else will have from their little vantage point: A ticket to Madonna’s Drown World Tour and one to the Re-Invention Tour. Or a tennis ball with a smiley face drawn on it. His name is Dunlop. Ooooor... BOTH!

End Blog.

Because I'm bored. So, why not?

10 years ago:
1. I was the Energizer Bunny in the Halloween parade. The costume made an appearance every year afterward, because what else can you really be with a bass drum strapped to your chest?
2. I found my pure love of biology class and had the highest grade without much effort.
3. Mr. Evans threw a chair at Bumper Peters in the middle of Spanish class.
4. I dated Josh again, because he was the only boy to ever have much interest in me.
5. I was taking Algebra II with Hendrix - the ball carrier, a bunch of seniors, and Alison. I hated it with a passion and failed the final because I'm slow and didn't finish due to a well hidden learning disability of some sort. I got my one and only high school C in that class. It also kept me from the math honor society until senior year. I’m still not bitter over one freakin’ test... really. (Although, I would like to note that completely failing a final and still getting a C is mighty fine work on my part.)

5 years ago:
1. I was living with Kara who turned out to be an awesome roommate and funny as hell. Plus, she helped me annoy J with the Hippopotamus song.
2. I was taking Organic Chemistry and cursing its existence.
3. I met Claudia and Cristina, but never saw them together and still couldn’t tell them apart. What was my problem?
4. J became my bestest friend in the entire world.
5. I was crushing over an adorable freshman named Kyle who eventually dropped out of college and fell off the face of the planet.

1 year ago:
1. I thought I was going to die in the Mustang when the brakes went out and I made the worst decision of my life – to continue driving it to the mechanic.
2. I finally came to terms with living in DC and wasn’t so miserably annoyed with life.
3. I started my job at the Secret Service (which is most likely linked to 2).
4. I was consoling Mandy about Paul being so far away.
5. I slept through Criminal Law II nearly every class and still managed a B, although it did wreck my 4.0 at GW.

Yesterday:
1. I watched the X-Files.
2. Alison called me twice for advice.
3. I ate leftover Thai food.
4. I watch Erin Brockovich on TV.
5. I didn’t see my roommate at all.

5 snacks I like:
1. Pizza goldfish
2. Chocolate ice cream
3. Potato Chips
4. Granola Bars
5. Fruit roll ups

5 songs I know all the words to:
1. Like a Prayer - Madonna
2. Guttermouth – Bree Sharp
3. Collide – Howie Day
4. Goodbye Earl – The Dixie Chicks
5. Least Complicated – Indigo Girls

If I had a million dollars:
1. I’d pay off all my school debt.
2. I’d give a large chunk of money to my sister and parents.
3. I’d find someone to help me invest it wisely.
4. I’d give a portion of it to the Leukemia and Lymphoma society.
5. I’d buy a house somewhere and get a dog. And then I’d sing the BNL song “If I Had a Million Dollars” continuously.

5 things I would never wear:
1. A bikini.
2. A belly button ring.
3. A wig.
4. Lots of makeup.
5. Braces.

Favorite TV shows:
1. Friends
2. X-Files
3. Buffy the Vampire Slayer
4. CSI, if only to be angry with it
5. A marathon of just about anything. Seriously, put something on 3 times in a row and I’m in.

5 bad habits:
1. Laziness
2. Letting my apartment become a mess
3. Procrastination
4. Distractibility
5. Being a hermit

5 biggest joys:
1. Friends who know how to make me laugh
2. Spending time with family
3. Staying up late into the wee hours with someone when it feels like you’re the only two people alive
4. Curling up and sleeping next to someone
5. Big dogs

5 fictional people I want to date:
1. Chandler Bing, from Friends
2. Luka Kovac, from ER
3. Maggie Stone, from All My Children
4. Nick Stokes, from CSI
5. Willow Rosenberg, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer

End Blog.

I've been Tagged

Directions: Choose one music artist/band that has not been chosen by your tagger. Answer the following questions using ONLY song titles by that artist/band. Then, tag 5 people to do the same.

As if it would be anyone else:

[artist/band]
Madonna

[male or female]
Who’s That Girl?

[describe yourself]
Ain’t No Big Deal

[how do people feel about you]
I Want You - heh, no…
I’d Rather Be Your Lover – Oh, wait… no.
Nobody Knows Me

[where do you want to be]
Holiday, La Isla Bonita
Where's the Party?

[what do you want to be]
Amazing

[how do you live]
In This Life, What Can You Lose?

[how do you love]
Physical Attraction
Just My Imagination
Crazy For You
Deeper and Deeper

[words of wisdom]
Nobody’s Perfect
Express Yourself



I have no one to tag seeing as how I don’t even know who reads this. Tag yourself.

End Blog.

Chipotle

This is the conversation I had with myself this morning:

“Nikki, we’re not going to Chipotle after work today. We have food here. It’ll be cheaper and is a good idea.”

“Okay!”

Cut to the walk to my car:

“I need to get gas and go to the post office today.” *looks up* “Mmmm, Chipotle.”

Do not underestimate the power of guacamole. I’m sure that is the reason why I love Chipotle so much. The burritos wouldn’t be so irresistible without it.

“No, Nikki, we’re not getting Chipotle today. We’re saving money.”

“But it makes me happy.”

“No. We’re out of a job all next month.”

“Okay, so we won’t have Chipotle at all next month. I really want a chicken burrito with black beans.”

“Yeah, me too, but we’re not getting one.”

Yet, I found myself continuing to walk to Chipotle.

“Mmmm, Chipotle.”

“No!”

“Mmmm, Happiness.”

“No! We only have enough cash to pay for parking.”

“Mmmm, Debit Card.”

“Nikki!!”

“It’s only $7.70.”

“It’s actually only $7.63. Remember? The price went down.”

And this is how I lost an argument with myself. Because of seven cents and the irresistibility of guacamole.

End Blog.

Life in the Big City

A gaggle of geese, a herd of cattle, a murder of crows, a pod of whales…

What word refers to a group of people? Because if there isn’t one, I’d like to suggest “a fuckload of people”.

Can we tell my commute is getting tiresome? Well, not the commute itself… the fuckload of people I have to deal with on the commute. I’m sick of those idiots. …All in my way and annoying.

And there is no remedy to this situation. Therefore, all I can do is complain. Until I find a job and am able to move out of the DC area… away from its bigness and fuckloads of people.

Fuckloads of people make me cranky.

End Blog.

The Waiting Game

I don’t really know how to sell myself. Which, I suppose is good in the sense that you’ll never confuse me for a prostitute… But I don’t know where I really stand in my interview either.

It was my first huge, look, I have a Master’s degree, give me a job kinda of thing. And I at least think that I didn’t totally blow it. Of course, maybe they were just being nice to me. I mean, if they hated me, would I even know it? Although, they would be very skilled liars. I did get an optimistic vibe leaving the place.

However, I have no idea how long it’s going to take to hear back from them. Or how long it’ll take if they decide to call me back for a polygraph. Or after that, how long it would take to actually hire me. The ballpark figure I got was “by the end of the year”. That’s four months. And I’m impatient.

Mostly because I know I’ll have no source of income come October. And I will not go back to Target. I can't bring myself to do it. I guess I had just hoped that this would be a bit speedier. Realistically, I guess it would be just as silly to hope that I didn’t have to pay rent anymore and food and gas suddenly became free. Or that I would win the megamillions jackpot. Then I wouldn’t even need a silly job. I could sit around and split my time completely between the television and internet and be contentedly happy, never having a worry again. Well, unless there were two conflicting showtimes! Thank goodness for VCRs. Wait, what am I talking about? I have millions of dollars! I'd totally have on demand and tivo.

I’m just sick of waiting. I’m ready to start whatever it is that’s to become of my life. Because I know where I am now is nothing close to what I want to be.

This all sounds so depressing, but worrying about my future is something I’ve been doing a lot of recently. And most of it stems from my lack of funds. There’s this commercial on the radio that claims “people think about money once every 30 seconds”. I don’t know how that could be true. Because if I did that, I think I’d have to commit myself into a long-term care mental facility.

But meanwhile, while in Missouri, I shall stop worrying for a few days and bask in the beauty that is this trip:

1. The flight cost $5.00
2. My bags were not lost
3. No hotel costs
4. No rental car expenses
5. Green, green farmland as far as the eye can see (mmm, corn and soybeans, how you feel like home)
   
6. And my personal MO support group showing up for me in spades. What a difference a year can make.

And so…

It’s been a lovely trip so far. Even if it turns out that it was just to spend a little extra time with friends. I love you guys! *tear*

End Blog.

Destination: Kansas City

I have a job interview this week in Kansas City, Missouri.

Now - get ready for a bunch of ifs -

If the interview goes well...
And
If they call me back for a polygraph…
And
If I pass the polygraph…
And
If they offer me the job…

…I’m going to take it.

Initially I had just applied to see what would happen. I didn’t expect to be called. I didn’t expect to get an interview. I never expected I’d make a move that large by myself.

And I never believed in fate and karma.

But something has been wanting me in Missouri since 1998.

Although, Missouri has a way of crushing my spirits and letting me down. Take Washington University, for example. They didn’t accept me even though it was the only place on Earth I wanted to go to school. It led to total devastation and anger and tears and disappointment. But it did direct me to four great years… okay, three great years at LVC and the bestest friends ever. And I eventually went to a school with Washington and University in the title. But neither of the schools equaled the amount of love I had for the one in St. Louis.

And now Missouri is showing promising opportunity yet again. Maybe Kansas City is friendlier than St. Louis. (And from what I’ve been told, it is.)

But I don’t want to get my hopes up. Missouri has been very mean to me in the past. (Yes, I generalize to the whole state. What are you gonna do about it?) Although, maybe somehow it knew that I needed a few years before I ended up there.

Because it feels like home. Where I belong.

Although, I do know what happens when I find something I love in Missouri. Rejection.

So I refuse to think I’m getting this job… even though I really, really want it.

Maybe it's time to face the music - I'm just not good enough for Missouri.

End Blog.

The Fate of NASA’s Three Remaining Broken-Down Hoopdies

Twenty-four years ago the Space Shuttle program was born. Back in its heyday, there were six shuttles. One, the Enterprise – which, no lie, was renamed only after an ambitious group of Trekkies signed a petition and got it to the President – didn’t really complete any missions. It was mostly used for testing; making sure the massive thing could get up to space and come back safely. And it did.

The others were all named after exploration sailing vessels, that I may have possibly learned about, had I ever paid close attention in history class. The other five are: Challenger, Columbia, Discovery, Atlantis, and Endeavour.

Now, unless you were either not live, have been living under a rock, or like me, do not pay attention in history class, you should know the fate of the Challenger craft. It sorta fell to pieces 73 seconds into its flight back in January of 1986. And killed 7 people. This was blamed on an O-ring in the solid rocket boosters and the crazy unseasonably cold weather in Florida. I blame the jerk-offs running the place.

In February of 2003, the second craft that didn’t return to Earth, Space Shuttle Columbia, had other technical difficulties. There was damage to the thermal heat shielding tiles that cover it, and it basically incinerated upon re-entry to Earth’s atmosphere. Apparently, a large chunk of insulation foam from the fuel tank crashed into its wing during takeoff and damaged those tiles. It killed 7 people. It was an accident.

Or was it?

The shuttles are old. Over 20. Now, I know something about driving around an old-ass car, and having something break on you during mid-travels. I can’t count the numerous occasions that this has happened to me. But, had I known that I was supposed to be traveling into space in my car, I would’ve shouted a loud, “Hell no!” And if I were an astronaut today, I’d feel the same way about these shuttles.

Before the second shuttle mishap, NASA found a crack in the fuel lines of the vessels, causing major inspections to the remaining fleet. Three of the four ships had this damage. And now we’re dealing with insulation foam. First off, I’d like to say this… Has this always been a problem NASA’s chosen to ignore? Why now, after over 20 years of shuttle flights, are we finally hearing about foam insulation? Is it a new problem?

This quote from the Flight Operations Manager, John Shannon, at the Johnson Space Center in Houston, leads me to believe that, no… it’s not. “Redesigns since the 2003 disaster have fixed a lot of debris problems. On this launch there was much less foam than we have seen in previous launches.”

Previous launches!? So, you’re telling me that NASA has gotten by on shear luck for 20 years? That this falling insulation has never happened to catch the shuttle until 2003?

So maybe NASA didn’t know the damage it could cause. I understand why those men and women tried to return from space, only to be greeted in flames. They didn’t know any better. But I wonder if the astronauts really understood the risks they were taking. I understand that it was their job, and most likely their life’s ambition. And I still believe that only the best and brightest get to go to space. But, did those daring people know about this?

The Roger's Commission Report on the Space Shuttle Challenger Accident stated that "It appears that there are enormous differences of opinion as to the probability of a failure with loss of vehicle and of human life. The estimates range from roughly 1 in 100 to 1 in 100,000. The higher figures come from the working engineers, and the very low figures from management.”

There have been approximately 115 shuttle flights since its inception back in 1981. Two of those flights failed and ended in vehicle loss. I’d say both of the figures in that report were slightly optimistic.

And now, two years after Columbia, and after taking what seems to be like proper precautions, Discovery will return to Earth, and the remaining three shuttles will be grounded indefinitely.

Now, as a child who dreamed of going to space, this saddens me. What happened to NASA’s funding? What happened to our elite program? Does anyone remember the space race to the moon? How Russia kicked our collective asses and got Sputnik up first? How our best and brightest worked through it to get Mercury and Gemini and Apollo up there? How we got men on the moon? And the courage and determination set forth to bring the crew of the doomed Apollo 13 home?

What happened to that NASA?

Why are we continuing to send astronauts up into space in NASA’s old jalopies? Where are the engineers and scientists? Why have we not come up with the solution to fixing this problem?

NASA landed men on the moon just eight years after President John F. Kennedy gave the order in 1961. And the shuttle took to the skies in 1981, just nine years after President Richard Nixon said to make it so.

In 1985, President Ronald Reagan called for a National Aerospace Plane that could take off from a runway, reach orbit in a single stage, and return to Earth as routinely as an airliner. A decade and billions of dollars later, engineers joked that the space plane would have to be built of "unobtainium."

In January of 2004, President Bush unveiled an ambitious space plan that includes a human mission to the moon by 2020 and an eventual human mission to Mars. But he hasn’t said a word about the plan since.

And no one knows where the funding would come from.

The hard reality is that great leaps in space technology require great heaps of money.

The single-stage-to-orbit vehicle doesn't exist yet. It's a more sophisticated craft that will require a team of bright-minded thinking-outside-the-box kind of individuals that I’m not sure completely exist anymore. Plus, it’ll probably take billions of dollars to achieve it.

Meanwhile, as the shuttles stay grounded, International Space Station Alpha will stay in its incomplete, unfinished state, and we’ll continue to rely on Russia’s Soyuz Rockets to get people to and fro.

And I can’t help imagining what the NASA of the 60’s would think if they saw themselves today.

End Blog.

Just call me Lashuganatta

I look at the names of criminals at work every single day. And for some of these would-be upstanding citizens who may have strayed from the strict laws of society… there is really only one reason.

Their names are absolutely horrible.

Some names are normal names spelled completely wrong. Spelled phonetically… possibly by not quite so bright parents. Others are just completely insane. And made up. And wrong. No wonder these kids grow up to be inmates.


And where was the father on this one?

“Aw, look at my beautiful little baby girl! I’ll name her Twinkle.”


Seriously… what do you do with that name? You’ve got Stripper, Hooker, Life of Crime. Congratulations, Mom.

And, as a side note, do not make the mistake of naming your offspring the following:
First and middle names should never be any form of – Renee, Dwayne, Wayne, Lamont, or Lee. There is an overwhelming number of these names present. And, I wouldn’t pick them as the most popular names in the world. Obviously it’s a factor that predisposes one to criminal activity.

Of course, all of this is based on very scientific and statistical analysis that’s simply too complex to explain in this medium. Just take my word for it. I’m serious. I wouldn’t make this up.

Don’t use these names unless you want your kid living in an orange jumpsuit for years.


End Blog.

Attack of the Marlboro (Wo)Man

One time, at a National’s baseball game, I had a cigarette put out on my arm.

I recommend it not at all. It’s like, hot and painful. And apparently what you get for leaving early. I assume I was the one to be smote by the baseball gods because I was the one driving home. Though, for the record, it wasn’t my idea to leave. I just didn’t object to it very strongly.

I doubt I’ll be scarred for life, seeing as how it has been healing nicely over this past week. Though, it would be fun to point at and tell the tale of how Bren and Al caused such torture. The pain and anguish… the suffering I went through… I mean, a cigarette! Put out on human flesh!

Actually, it didn’t hurt as much as I assumed it would, that is, if I had I ever really taken the time out to think about how much it would hurt. Maybe it was because I was so quick to brush away the offensive fiery ash. But, a note to all you smokers out there… please keep the smoldering parts of your cancer sticks away from those of us who would rather leave a somewhat boring baseball game a little bit early.

I mean, there’s a proper time and place for burning people with cigarettes. And wholesome family baseball games are not that time or place.

Although, without a scar I won’t have a nifty souvenir from Bren’s visit here. And that’s something worth having a reminder of forever, seeing as how I managed to let her slip away without any photo ops. Maybe a thank you to the anonymous smoker would be more in order… you know, if she had done the job properly.

End Blog.

Life Update

You may imagine that I’ve been super busy and didn’t have time to blog. Or, if you know me better, you probably think I was too lazy. No matter who you are in this scenario, you’re probably mostly right. Amazingly, lots has been going on recently. And yet, I’ve still found time to do nothing in the midst of it all. Sometimes I think I might have dual personalities. One that cares and is responsible, and one that is 13 and knows that her parents are looking out for her, protecting her from adulthood.

So, quickly, news flashes since last update, over some month ago.

Mandy got married. Mandy moved to North Carolina with her husband. How are people my age so responsible sounding? People I know are getting married. Husbands, wives. These are titles for people I know. They’re like, committed forever to someone… forever. Married. My little brain can’t even comprehend that. And so… Mandy no longer lives with me. I had to pay the phone and cable bills all by myself. I had to take out the garbage. I had to come home to an empty apartment.

But, I must admit, there are a few good things about living alone. You can have loud sex in every room. I have not done this. You can be really messy and no one will be upset with you. I have also not done this. You can have people over and throw a party without running it by your roommate. Again, not something I’ve done. You can become a nudist and never wear clothing ever again once in the privacy of your very own place. Nope, haven’t done it. Okay, maybe I have, but what’s it to you?

I could be lying. I could have done all of these things. See, there’s no one here to discount my stories. I could become a pathological liar now that I live alone.

It’s been kinda nice having the place to myself. That being said, I can’t afford it here alone and I feel way too responsible all of a sudden. I need someone else here with me. Someone who I can blame for things like the loud sex noises coming from… no, wait, those are the people upstairs. Actually, it’s all about the money. I don’t nearly make enough to afford this place. And so, the roommate search began. It only supported my theory that there are more unintelligent, uneducated, rude people in the world than is necessary. People suck. Especially people looking for roommates because they are 1. Not smart enough to have a job that pays them well enough to afford a place on their own, or 2. Complete idiots with no other excuse for themselves but that they’re complete idiots, or 3. Unsocialized jerks who don’t know how to play nice with others. These are the kids that threw sand at you in the sandbox when you were 4. They haven’t evolved from being 4. Whereas, I… I made it all the way up to 13. And I'm an awesome roommate. I fall into category number 4. Which is what I was looking for in a fellow roommate: awesomeness. Anyway… I eventually found someone to live with. The jury's still out on the awesomeness factor, but I don't have time to look around forever. I hope all goes well because it wasn’t a completely exhaustive search, but I’ll be broke soon without her. Plus, I wanted to deal with the looking for roommate wackos as little as possible. So, she’s moving in tomorrow. Hopefully she’s responsible and laid back enough that we don’t annoy the hell out of each other. We shall see. (I told you I was bringing back shall.) I’m optimistic about her.

Update numero dos:
I finished all my labs. I finished all my papers. I finished all my classes. I passed my comp exams. I finished two of my three finals. I have one more exam to go until I’m officially getting my Master’s of Forensic Science. And then you shall (see?) refer to me as Master.

Okay, you don’t have to. But really, I should be getting something out of these 2 years of education and $37,000 in loans. You know, other than all the knowledge and some letters at the end of my name. Although I could just start using them in everything I do. Like email. For example:

What’s going on Friday? I hear there’s a celebration in honor of my graduation. Tell me where and when - and wouldn’t it be cool if someone provided me with transportation so I could drink heavily and kill off the brain cells that have actually accomplished something in the past 2 years? Cool. Thanks.

Later,
Nikki, MFS

See how fun that is?

Fiiiiiine, I won’t do it. But don’t expect me to be excited for you to put letters after your name, either.

More news:
I made a résumé. I’m not sure how impressive it really is, or if it really tells anybody anything exciting about what I know. Or if what I know is actually exciting. And it’s not like I have real experience. But, like, someone should hire me to do something because just about everything in the forensic science field is completely backlogged. And I could help with that.

Plus, my résumé says Secret Service on it. That sounds cool. And it says George Washington University. Which, everyone tells me has the best forensic science program around. I don’t believe that, but I’d like to continue the rumor so everyone thinks I’m incredibly smart for having such a pretty GPA from such an awesome institution.

So, I'm starting to apply for a real full-time, non-contract job.

Hire me. I’m like, only years away from becoming an actual adult.

Hire me. I’ll move from DC. I never wanted to spend my whole life here anyway. I’m like 80% positive I’m not really a big city girl. Maybe a medium city. With not a lot of traffic. Top 4 worst traffic areas in the US: Los Angles, San Francisco, DC, and Atlanta. Who knew Atlanta would make that list? Okay, trivia session over.

As is this blog entry.

See?

End Blog.

A Girl's Best Friend

Eating pizza makes me miss my dogs.

If you understand why this is true, you are a dog owner/lover. If you do not, you probably have a cat. Or no pet at all. In which case you, a.) had a sad, unforgiving childhood, b.) tortured animals as a young child, or c.) both a. and b. You will grow up to be a sociopath or serial murder.

Therefore, by deductive reasoning…



Every kid should have a dog.



And, still being a kid myself, I want a dog!

Gimme!!

Now!!


Because I have pizza. Lots of pizza. And no one to share the crust with.

This can only lead to unhappiness and despair.



Dedicated to: Savvy and Rudy, the bestest dogs ever. They're probably starving without my pizza crust. I bet they miss me too. *hugs to the puppies!*










End Blog.

Slackerdom

I'm a slacker. I haven't blogged in a while. Get over it.

There were many thoughts about blog. Mostly about how I was going to write all about how I broke my pencil during an exam and decided that the best thing to do in said situation was not get the pen out of my bag and use that, but instead fix the mechanical pencil and go about test taking as normal. I never got around to it. That was last week at this time.

I had planned on it being witty. But, alas, still I have not written it. Now I forget what was so fantastic about it. Was it because I'm awesome at fixing things and impressed myself that I figured out how to put it back together? Was it because there were tiny parts that would have pissed people off if they were not like me - possessing wee hands? Was it because I felt that a properly working mechanical pencil was more important than a midterm? Was it because I have the worst case of senioritis on the planet and would do absolutely anything to avoid this test? I don't know. But the last suggestion certainly seems like a winner.

I've been in school too long. I'm so glad I opted out of that doctor thing long ago.

And I should be looking for a new job. And a new roommate. Or a new place. Or something. Even doing my labs or writting a paper or two would be something worthwhile. I don't want to do any of those things.

I'd like to sleep.

And so I shall!

But most importantly, I'm bringing back the word shall. Because this is what I deem important today. Not enough people use the word shall. Shall implies certainty. People lack certainty. I lack certainty.

Except in one area...

I shall sleep. Because I am a slacker.

And I shall not ever get around to writing The Green Mechanical Broken Pencil and the Midterm From Hell.

Because I am a slacker.


End Blog.

Valentine's Day at the Morgue

Remember, I don’t force you to read this. I won’t apologize for grossing you out, if I manage to.


So, the Office of the ME in Fairfax county is way bigger than I thought it would be. They cover an area involving 2 airports and a train station, and in case of some sort of disaster, are equipped to handle 100 bodies. Impressive. We toured the facilities, checked out the coolers, radiology, and the decomp room for especially decomposing bodies - like those crawling with maggots and bugs and stuff. They have their own special room. As well they should, no one wants maggots crawling about the morgue and contaminating everything. I just never really thought about it that much.

They had 4 cases when we got there today. And in an hour and 45 minutes, they did 3 of them. Also impressive. I was kind of surprised with how roughly they treated the bodies before, during, and after autopsy. But, it makes sense. I mean, not like they’re going to feel it, right? One guy was moving them from steel slab to steel slab. He’d grab and arm and a leg and just yank them over. Worked well. It was efficient. And it also made a nice clunk when the dude’s head hit the table.

He’d also roll them up and pull the body bags out from underneath them, or roll them on their back, whatever… they had to make notations on either side of the body, where there were marks, blah blah blah. When you think of dead people, or at least when I have, you think about the rigor. You know, bodies all stiff and unmoving. We had some of that going on. But with one of the cases, the guy shot himself in the head with a shotgun last Tuesday. His autopsy was today, 6 days later. So, the rigor was all gone. Remember weekend at Bernie’s? That’s all I could think about. Except Bernie didn’t have a GSW to the head. Or did he? What did that silly guy die of anyway? Anyway, this guy’s head was all rollin’ around while he was being moved. He was like a rag doll. Like a really heavy sleeper, very moveable.

So, it was an enlightening experience. Autopsies are quick. And it was interesting to see what your last doctor’s exam will be like. Interesting things to note:


1. They wash you off with a scouring pad. You know those rectangular green ones? Yeah. That’s what was used.

2. The X-Files let me down. They didn’t weigh the intestines. They weigh like, everything but the small and large intestine. And they didn’t do stomach contents. I’m not sure if they weighed that or not. I’m thinking no. Just the spleen, kidneys, liver, heart, lungs, and brain.

3. During the autopsy they throw all your organs in a big plastic bag. Some they need to cut up more to look at with more detail, depending on the case, but they all end up in this big bag - whole or mutilated, no matter. Some have samples taken from them to be sent to the lab for histological staining. At any rate, when they’re done, they put this bag back into the cavity that used to hold them all orderly… and they sew you back up, slipping the sternum and ribs back in place as they do so. (These are cut with hedge clippers.) Then they stick the skull back together and sew up your head. So, you’re buried with all your parts, but not where they belong. I’m okay with that, I guess. But the thing that bothers me is your brain is floating around in your stomach. For some reason, that’s the only part that seems wrong. This does, however raise an interesting question. Why do we ever bother to exhume people? What does that do for us? And what does the mortician think of the butcher job the M.E.‘s do? They must seriously be miracle workers.

4. Fingerprinting dead people is hard. Not the printing part, the inking part. They’re not very cooperative.

5. The morgue doesn’t smell bad. And don’t kill me for saying this… it smells like raw meat. Like steak before you throw it on the grill. Autopsies make you seriously hungry.

6. I was worried about the whole slicing of the scalp and reflecting back skin to saw open the skull to get the brain. And the stories I’ve heard about the suction sound it makes when you pop the skull open. And how lots of people don’t like it. I think people have been making up that story. When they open the skull after making the cuts with the saw, they sort of pry it open. It makes a popping sound, like a cracking - that you can imagine would be true - you’re breaking bone. And then when you pull the top off, it’s not a suction, it’s a ripping or tearing. You can hear the dura being torn from the inner aspect of the skull. It wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined. And it’s so much easier to not think of them as a once living man with 2 kids at home when his forehead is pulled down to his nose.

7. There’s less blood than I thought there would be.

8. Don’t become an alcoholic. It thins your blood and doesn‘t let it clot. And don’t fall down stairs if you’re drunk. It could kill you.

9. Drowning in your own blood does not seem like a cool way to go. And sub-arachnoid bleeds look super painful.

10. Taking vitreous liquid from the eye would seriously creep a lot of people I know out. ’Cause even I was like, “Ew.”

Overall, enjoyable morning. Though, sad. I think the oldest guy was 46. 3 men. Drug overdose, alcoholic, suicide. Black, Hispanic, Caucasian.

We read the police report on one of the guys because the cop in attendance was super nice. He had a family. 2 little boys, a wife, a mother. And he still felt the need to do meth. In some ways I feel sad. In others, angry. All three of these guys didn’t have to die this week. Makes you wonder if you’re living your life the way you ought to.

But enough reflection.

I still have comps to study for.

End Blog.

I Bet There Are Comprehesive Exams In Hell

Comp exams suck majorly. I’m taking a break from studying for a few minutes so I don’t go insane. And I'm feeding Blog. He told me he was hungry. Much like Mandy's cats... I will feed them promptly.

And I’d just like to take a second out of blog writing time to inform you that Madonna’s Express Yourself just came on the radio. You go Saturday Night at the 80’s!

Anyway… I was talking about comps. And them sucking. And studying for them sucking. And everything about them majorly sucking. I’d think of other adjectives but my brain is almost fried, and not in the crispy tasty way.

And on top of all this sucking, I get to get up early next Saturday - and I mean early - to take them. And they ruin a perfectly good Saturday. 5 tests, 45 minutes each… that’s 3 hours and 45 minutes of testing. Like I can focus that long. Test starts at 8am. I’m not even that productive at work until after lunch. What are they thinking?

Speaking of work, I can’t tell you how much better it’s become since two others joined up with the project. I love work. I love them. And because I have such joy there now, I actually look forward to it. It's such a new concept. I didn't know you were allowed to like work. And I’ve begun to think that there isn’t only one reason and one reason alone for me to be in DC - that being school. I seriously am starting to have thoughts other than the all consuming school thing… which is making studying way suckier.

I just have the worst case of senioritis. I really thought that it was bad senior year, when I scheduled days that I didn’t have a single class. Okay, one day… but still. But now, I really don’t care. It’s hard to study when you don’t care. I’ve been told I should have taken a year off before GW. But I doubt I would have ever gone back. Especially if I somehow found contentment in my job. And I mean contentment. Not like the hell and torture of Target. Somewhere between that and the happiness of the Secret Service. That may have something to do with only working 3 days a week though. Oh, no, wait... I did that at Target for a while, too.

I was thinking about Target the other day. I haven’t been back there since I picked up my last check in October. I’m not sure if 4 and a half months is long enough to heal from the torture of Target. But then sometimes I wonder if they have Dr Pepper on sale. Which would almost be enough to go back, though I’d miss my discount. And Safeway just had an awesome deal last weekend and I stocked up. $2.00 for 12. That’s a little over 16 cents a piece.

Ever wonder why there isn’t a cent sign as a shift function for one of the numbers? Or maybe in place of the + or * or /? I mean, if you’ve got a ten key pad like everyone does now a days, you have those keys twice. I just want a cents sign. Sometimes they’re needed. Unlike some of these other extra keys floating around. Do I really need 3 different ways to put something in parentheses/brackets? Is that left over from computer programming or something? Because, what’s really the difference of (this) as compared to {this} or [maybe even this]? Okay, so {} these suckers are kind of different. And I bet they have a special name all of their own. I wonder what it is. *points to previous paragraph about brain being fried* Please tell me if you know what they’re called.

I guess I’ve wasted enough time away from my notes. Wish me luck in the studying and test taking departments. And then come over to my apartment the night of February 19th… and bring alcohol.

Because right after comps, I get three new classes to study for. That’s right, comps are over just in time for midterms.

February Rocks.

Hard.

End Blog.

02.14.2005

I’m bored. There are many things I could be doing, yet, I’m not. I just got a shitload of Buffy and Angel to watch from Timm. Yet, here I am, all not watching it. I have schoolwork I could do. Yes, class… the semester has commenced once again. I could do laundry, the bane of my existence. (Well, if I had quarters.) I could… I dunno, I’m sure there’s something I could do. That’s my point. There’s no need to be bored. So, here I am writing again. I feel like I’ve been neglecting Blog. Mostly because Blog was all like, “Hey, remember me? Jerk, I hate you!” So, I’m like, “Okay, okay, Blog… but I don’t have anything fun to tell you!”

Oh, Wait…

That’s kind of a lie. I have awesome plans for Valentine’s day. Which I totally ignore every other year. The only cool thing about V-Day is that it’s the two week reminder for everyone I know that my birthday is in exactly two weeks… which I never fail to point out. Making a big deal about my birthday is way cool. Pretty much any attention directed towards me is way cool. I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m starved for attention. And yes, shut up, I know it’s my own fault. Don’t even go there.

But Valentiney’s day… I’ll get back to that. How did I spend it last year? I don’t remember. How did I spend it the year before? Oh… I don’t remember. We could do this for the other twenty Valentine’s Days I’ve had throughout the rest of my life, but the answer will always be the same.

I’m not really bitter. And blah, blah, made up greeting card holiday… blah blah blah. You’ve heard it all before. Whatever. I’ve never spent a cutsie or romantic made up holiday (or not) with anyone. I haven’t done the dinner and flowers and candy and chocolate thing. Ever.

Me, not bitter. No. Because this year is so going to make up for all of it. This year will be the crowning achievement to all Valentine’s Days ever, across the world, until the end of eternity.

This February 14th is going to be a day to remember. And when I tell you what we're doing, man are you going to be so jealous of me. At this point you think I’m being sarcastic. Oh, I’ve built it up too much.

This is not sarcasm. This is really what I’m doing on February fourteenth.

I am taking a class field trip (yes, field trips in grad school) to the Virginia State Medical Examiner’s Office. We’re going to observe an autopsy.

And I get to see a freakin’ heart on Valentine’s day.

Take that, Valentine’s day. Take that.

I finally win.

Valentine’s day is going to rock.



I know, morbid. I love my humor.


End Blog.

As January Comes to a Close

It’s about that time again…

No, not football play offs or the superbowl, not the beginning of a new semester, not the days of never-ending snowfall. No, the end of January signifies something very different for me and forever will. All because of a day back in October of 1994. This January, my sister would have been 25.

January 29, 1980. Tracey Blackwell’s birthday.

October 8, 1994. The day she died.

That’s only 5,351 days of life. Not nearly enough in my book. Says so right here… *points* “Not nearly enough”.

When I was younger, I did the math and figured out the day I would become older than my older sister. I was in middle school, and don’t remember the day anymore, but what I do remember is how I didn’t feel any different. Another milestone passed and nothing happened. You turn 18, you don’t feel any different. You turn 21, everything’s the same. And now my dead sister would have been 25. Which really doesn't mean anything... but it makes me think.

Throughout high school when something happened to me that I deemed important, I’d think about how Tracey never got to experience whatever it was. No driver’s license, no first car, no prom, no graduation. I always wondered what she would have been like, how she would have grown up, what she wanted to do with her life. No college searches, no declaration of majors, no all nighters, no favorite professors, no parties, and again - no graduation. And as I head into my last semester of graduate school, and it grows closer to her birthday, I think about it all again. No grad school searches, no identity crisis, no career plans. Hell, who even knows what her future might have been like. Maybe she wouldn’t have wanted to go to grad school. Maybe her life would have been completely different from my own. Maybe what should be listed is - no first great love, no broken hearts, no husband, no kids of her own. And I guess that's the real tragedy. When you really think about it, the thing that matters most in life - is love.

So, these were the things I always thought about in regards to her death. How unfair it was, and what she was missing. How leukemia ruined everything. And how I still had no explanation as to why it all went down like it did. I struggled with it silently for a while. My family didn’t talk about it, and at the time I don’t think I would have been strong enough for that conversation anyway. Maybe I’m still not. I blamed God. Then I stopped believing in him altogether. Then I pretended to accept it.

And then I met J who sort of called me on it, and helped me sort through everything. She's got an amazing future as a psychologist.

Now, 10 years after her death, I’m finally getting closer to acceptance. I think.

And here’s why: I finally hit the weird selfish stage. Today I wasn’t thinking about all the things she missed out on, but all of the things I missed, not having her around. I mean, we were tight, when we were young. We told each other pretty much everything. And she was 13 months older than me. Meaning she had a heads up on everything that was coming my way. Just think of all the insights she would have had for me, the great advice, the help through all the coming of age drama. The friendship, the support, the years of memories.

I can only imagine what kind of a person I would have turned out to be with her influence to help shape me as we both grew up together. I feel like I would have been a better person. I feel as if I would have been more open and less cynical.

But we’ll never know.

Twenty-five. Tracey would have been twenty-five this year. A quarter of a century old. Yet, she missed a decade of it. More importantly, so did I. So did my family. And so did the rest of the world.

I miss you, Trace. But I love you more. And that's what's important.

Love.


End Blog.

Northwest Airlines

Dear M. Blackwell:

Northwest Airlines would like to take this opportunity to apologize for the delay of flight NW5717 on December 24. 2004.

Due to the severe weather conditions around our system, Northwest Airlines and its Airlink partners were forced to cancel or delay a large number of flights. As a result, many of our customers experienced significant flight disruptions and/or did not receive their luggage upon arrival at their destination.

We are very sorry for the problems that you experienced, and as a tangible gesture to ptove our commitment to customer service, I am doing the following for our valued customers.

Adding 5000 bonus miles to your WorldPerks account. You may visit our website at www.nwa.com/freqfly/ to verify these miles have been posted. Please allow 3 business days for the miles to appear.

Loyal customers are key to any company's success, and it is our goal to provide excellent service on every occasion. I hope you will give us an opportunity to restore your confidence and to welcome you on Northwest and out affiliate carriers in the near future.

Sincerely,
Lynn Pahl
Director
Customer Care and Sales Support


Why did they only apologize for flight NW5717? They didn't care about NW3437? Because that's where my bag was lost. Sure, they wouldn't tell me that they left my bag on the sidewalk at the Philly airport, but I know that's where it was. Otherwise, why did it take 2 whole days to get it back?

So, 5000 miles.

I gave them 3 business days. I didn't get free 5,000 miles yet. I currently have 14,658.

Not that I know how many miles gives me a free anything. Or that I really want to fly with them again. Seeing as how it's the second time they lost my bag. Whatever... we all know if they're the cheapest flight I'll use them again. I'm broke.

Interesting though, no?

Airplanes are amazing. They're little traveling sleep centers in the sky. Magic.

But I would have much rather had a free flight anywhere. Like Hawaii. For two. Think on that, Northwest. Think on that... maybe we can work out a compromise. Because the nonexistant 5,000 free miles are doing nothing for me. Nothing.

End Blog.

Drinking Quotes

Fun, fun weekend with my college girls. I miss PA, I miss knowing where things are and where the roads go, and I miss my girls. Badly.

Oh, and I broke my phone face plate, again. Stupid hard ground and the whole missing my pocket thing.


Quotes from January 7-9, 2005.
Annville, PA. The Styer Residence: Keep in mind most of these quotes occured during the Dice Game after a few rules had been established. You know, the good rules like - No Swearing, No using names or nicknames, No saying numbers, No using words that start with T, No using the word hate, No pointing, No touching the table, and worse... No asking questions... the penalty for rule breaking? Drinking.


Way to go, Domestic Man. ~Nik

That’s so Methodist. ~Erin

I can drink tonight, I’m not on any medication. ~Kristin

I didn’t know that. ~J
He was your boyfriend for a while, why not? ~Nik
Obviously we didn’t talk. ~J (About Andy)

Evil Bitch! ~Nik
I think that’s a nickname. ~Erin

Would you like to open? ~Andy
Ohhh! Even with a poppy thing! ~Nik

My hands are tingly. ~Nik
My whole head is numb. ~J

Is nothing a number? ~Nik
It’s a place holder. ~J
I got a place holder. ~Kristin

If I could curse, you’d be so ashamed. ~Nik

No R Rule! ~Andy

CLUMSY! ~Nik
You’re a smurf! ~J

And you need to partake also because I saw the finger. ~Andy

S-P-L-E. ~Andy

Did you call him a kitchen? ~J

Nobody drinks in New Jersey. ~J
I’m sure there are. ~Andy

Don’t let me fall me. ~Nik

That’s my boob. ~Erin
No, that’s your side. ~Nik
That’s the side of my boob. ~Erin
*moves hand, pokes again*
That’s your side. ~Nik

How do they make an island bigger? ~Erin

What is she doing, getting a picture of his ass? *turns page* Yes. ~Erin

Hey, that’s from ago. ~Erin

She likes my ass. ~Andy (from the other room)

Who is that woman? She’s clearly naked. ~Nik
No, she’s wearing shorts. ~Erin
Khakis? ~Nik
Who is this? ~Erin *points, asking Kristin*
That’s a guy! ~Kristin

Look! I have boobs! ~Erin
You both do, my dress is all saggy. ~Nik

Well, I have no boobs, what’s your problem? Luckily the flowers are hiding that fact. ~Nik

Maybe if you drew them in with the cleavage… I’d pay attention to your personality sooner or later. ~Nik

Honey, would you like a straw? Because… wow, that’s impressive. ~Nik

But I technically hate my crutches and they can go to hell. ~Kristin

Not many people have garnished my backseat. ~Erin

Why are you rolling your eyes at me? ~Nik
That’s what I do. ~J

There’s nothing in Lancaster except one way streets and confusion. ~E

Wow, I don’t think those four screws were enough. What am I missing out on? …Don’t you wanna see how it works? Because, that’s a shame, really. …This might be easier with my glasses on. ~Nik

I’m really hot, I should take this shirt off. But let me take these 10 drinks first. ~Nik

Healthy alcohol? Then what’s this then? The Alcohol of Doom? ~Nik

That’s a whole in one! ~Erin (about the die in Nikki’s mouth)

Plus fuck. ~Kristin
How do you drink fuck? ~Nik

Did it come out? I have to drink. ~Erin

CALL HIM BACK! Call him back. I’m going to be sober. ~Nik

I’m just reminding everyone of the bean dip in the fridge. ~Kristin

You sip. ~Kristin
But you don’t get drunk that way. ~Erin
ALREADY THERE… MY FRIEND. ~Nik

But at least you get to curse twice. ~Nik
And you get to say comma. ~J

I’m reminding everyone there’s bean dip! ~Kristin

*Whispers in Erin’s ear* Why? Don’t tell anyone. ~Nik

What, you think I’m not tall enough? ~Nik
No, not stable enough. ~Andy (about Nikki getting out shot glasses)

I think she’s probably the only one who could vomit on me and I wouldn’t care. ~Nik (about J)

So… SO… SO tasty. ~Nik

If we have to call 911... ~Kristin
I know the number! ~Nik

Must… pee… soon. ~Nik

Aww… wish… curse… awww. ~Nik

Hank you! ~Nik
Elcome. ~Erin

I thought you were going to the bathroom. ~Sarah
No, I was putting bean dip in the fridge. ~Erin
Fridge… the anti-oven! ~Nik

But if I dance on your lap, I don’t have to do any work. ~Nik

Still… my… go. ~Nik

Qu’est-que-ce les cheesy poofs? ~Sarah

I’m on it, I’m on it! ~J

What am I asking him? ~Nik
What time is it? In Spanish. ~J
Was or ist es? ~Kristin
Que hora es!! Hang up! Que hora es!! ~Erin

I’ll take my shirt off if you want me to. ~Nik

That wasn’t even of your front face. ~Nik (about Sarah)

My face is pinker than my shirt. ~J

I’ve never heard of brushing teeth in the middle of drinking. ~J

Oh pooh. Shit… fuck… hello! ~Kristin

Should we wait for her? ~Sarah
Don’t roll! ~Nik (from the bathroom)

I’m going to pee. Nikki, do you need it before me? ~Kristin

It’s not like I sit in the shower and ask what might could I clean? ~Nik

Mine aren’t that perky but they are flexible. ~J

Do you want to wake up and find out you ate your pen? ~Sarah

Can’t my front and back say the same thing? ~Nik



End Blog.