i think i'd make a pretty hot alien.

I think I moved to the surface of the sun. And because of the non-stop triple digit heats plus humidity, my life outside of work has been decidedly dull as the thought of going outside induces my sweat glands to enlarge in preparation, it's just not worth it.

For example, I had to run a shite-ton of errands yesterday, so I get into my boiling hot car, crank the A/C, which takes until I get several miles down the road to blow even  modestly cool air thanks to how hot it is, park a mile away at the mall on a Saturday (kill. me. now) and then zip through as fast as I can through all the teeny boppers and families to get what I need and get the hell out. But that ALSO makes you hot and sweaty. It's like a bloody catch-22. At least I was able to do a sweet photo bomb with this group of adults, but I blame them for taking a candid photo...in the mall.

I've also been working just about 7 days a week, but it's not so bad. It's nice and cool in the lab :) The project I'm working on basically requires constant monitoring, so I have to go in almost everyday to at least check on my cell cultures so they don't die. Dead cells = one pissed off grad student.

Despite the heat I have been getting mighty crafty lately. I think I'm trying to get it all out of my system before it gets crazy busy in a few weeks. I made this sweet little wall decor/craft supply holder deal a couple weeks ago.

It's not 100% done, but I like it!

And that's all folks. I'm hot. I've been working. And having some fun here and there. Heimy is still a lazy crabby cat. So basically life is normal. Of course, my co-workers and I? Not so much.

quite frankly, it might be more enjoyable to google maru, the box loving cat.

The following is a collection of random posts that were started and never finished. I'd say it's my gift to you but it'd be a pretty shitty gift. ....


..............

It’s official.

I’m either developing some weird case of narcolepsy or this air mattress is going to be the death of me. It seems like no matter how much sleep I get, I’m still tired. I passed out on my living room floor after working at the lab yesterday for almost 2 hours and really could have just gone to bed except it was still exceptionally light outside considering it wasn’t even 6:00 pm.

So unless there is some weird atmospheric pollutant making me tired all the time, I’m blaming the air mattress and the apparent lack of quality sleep.

But if you see me passed out in my soup, help a sister out.

...........

Texans are like Californians, except with bigger guns and slowly spoken insults. 

...........

I have the best job ever now. Of course I may not be saying that come October when I'm eyeball deep in cell cultures, paper grading and classes, but right now? It's pretty much the shit. 

In the past 2 weeks I have had the weirdest and most hilarious conversations of my entire life with my lab mates. No topic is left untouched. None.

Now, if I can keep the sticky fingers from stealing my pens and supplies, life would be swell.

And if I didn't sweat every time I even thought about going outside, life would be splendid.

...........

What do you get when you put 1 PhD student, 2 masters students, 1 undergraduate and 1 high school student in a car with 4 snow cones and a crazy driver?

1 undergrad and 3 grad students covered in sticky spray.

...........

I think I'm living on the surface of the sun. Literally.

If it gets any hotter I won't have to worry about trying to lose weight, I'll just sweat it off.

But I'll need to invest in a year's supply of underwear.

Ew.

............

There you go, I told you. Shittacular gift.

You're welcome.

reason #23987 why moving is worse than riping fingernails off one by one with rusty pliers.

I have three words for you that should strike fear into your heart:

Coin. Operated. Laundry.

Who ever created the idea of having to have a billion and a half quarters just to wash your chonies and shirts and jeans because it's really freaking hot and humid where you (now) live so you have to change your clothes a lot because yes, you are the sweaty kid, should be tarred and feathered.

My stuff is still commuting towards me, which means I don't have my washer and dryer yet, and thus, had to conquer the coin operated laundry.  This adventure began by first having to go in search of where the nearest laundry room was. LOCATED! success. Then the dread hits....quarters. Need quarters. Need cash to get quarters. It's Sunday, so no just going into the bank.

Piling into the hot car, I locate an ATM and pull out some moola, having to pay of course because I haven't transferred all of my funds from my local bank and I didn't want to spend the time looking for one that wouldn't charge me. Flip a U, find a place to get a soda to make small bills. Success! Flip another U and head to the coin operated car wash to, you got it, use their change machine! and vacuum up the cat food and kitty litter that was left in my car from the trip East.

Finally loaded down with quarters I lugged my laundry down stairs and towards the laundry room. Here is where I feel I should mention that the temperature is over 100 and the humidity today? 58%. That laundry room was a hot sweaty beast.

All of that just for some clean underwear. 

I'd say I need a beer, but I'd have to drive out of county to get one and it's just too bloody hot.

Take that Coin Operated Laundry, I defeated yo ass!

you should really just save your time and google cute pictures of marmots.

I want furniture.

I know I keep saying that, but I mean it. My apartment is so sad and lonely. And it echoes.

But it's air conditioned at least. This humidity may or may not be the death of me. At least where I'm spending most of my time these days is nice and cool. Thank you lab!

I have no news.

Other than no matter what state you live in there are always twatwaffles on the road (yes, I'm talking about you mr. giant ford, I'm oh-so-sorry I haven't been here even a week yet and I get a little confused on the roads occasionally about where to turn).

bees, out.

academia or bust.

Where to start, where to start. Marathon cleaning session before I moved out of H-town? Check. (Thank GOD for my mom and sister, because I could not have done it without them!)

Cramming as much crap into my car as physically and metaphysically possible? Check. So much so that my car was damn near touching the pavement? Check.

Powered through a 1600 mile trek in about 25-8 hours? Check and check.

The amazing part of this little story is that my cat? turned out to be a rockstar. He cried a bit in the beginning but we settled into a good pace and he settled down. No explosive shits. No ear splitting cries for hours on end. I was amazed. On top of that he actually let me put a collar on him and since we've been in the new place he's been this little center of calm. I think he'll do even better once my stuff arrives.

Speaking of...I want my shit. Like yesterday. Indoor camping was kind of fun at first but now I'm tired of every meal, ever netflix thing, every damn thing taking place on the ground. And of sleeping on an air mattress.  Don't get me wrong, the aerobed is super comfy, but I want my own bed. Right meow. They better show up with my stuff soon or I might be searching the side of the road for some new-to-me items.

Since I rolled into town I've been spending time running around trying to figure things out, buy things, and sleeping to make up for driving for like two days straight. But today was my first day going to campus and meeting the people I'm going to be spending the next two years with, which was pretty flippin sweet. Here's a couple shots I took walking around today. If it hadn't been hot as balls, I'd have explored more, but I was hot, sweaty and hungry, so you get two.

Peace y'all.

Yeah. That's a lake in the middle of campus. Mind blown.

moving saga part 4697: the day my patience and sleep ran off to elope and died in a plane crash on the way there.

Yesterday was the Monday from hell. It crawled up from the bowels of the netherworld and slapped my ass with a big fat "have a nice day sucka".

Marathon packing this weekend I had almost everything ready to go for the movers, but of course to get to that point I went to bed in the wee hours on Monday morning, woke up 4 hours later from shitty sleep, went to work at the butt crack of dawn, ran home to meet my movers when they were supposed to be there.....and waited.....and waited some more.

I waited so long my oven looks like it would on the Sears showroom floor. I even swept underneath it. And then moved on to the freezer. Two hours and change later, they showed up. They worked steadily but it still took them two hours. And I used more space than estimated = more bloody money. Just great. By 1:30 I was hot, hungry, and testy. What will fix that? A quick lunch with the sister, brother and nephew. I get out of my car and reach for my wallet while simultaneously dropping my fucking iphone.

Empty purse. Phone on the pavement.

Wallet on counter from paying second payment of move.

Thankfully, my sister saved the day, I hoovered lunch, ran back to work, worked until close, got my hair cut and then had a wonderful dinner and chat with a friend and mentor. After which I had to return to my empty apartment with my freaked out cat to "blow up" my accommodations for the next few nights and make my bed. Do you know how weird it is to be sleeping in an empty 1400 square foot apartment? It's echoy canyon weird.


I'm so nice and shiny now assholes.

And it's all become real that in 2 days I am headed East. Now that my stuff is gone it definitely means no turning back and it's exciting and strange and a little nerve destroying. I'm anxious to begin and sad to leave.

Hello bittersweet.

i need wine and a xanax immediately.

I have not heard from my moving company.

.

.

They're supposed to be picking my shit up tomorrow! Needless to say I'm freaking out a little bit. I called, they're supposed to call me back soon but wtf?! This is not what I'm paying more money than my liver is worth on the black market for! I was paying for peace of mind.

So while I finish up this last little bit of packing I need copious amounts of wine to deal with the nervousness in my (currently over sized) gut.

Moving blows giant chunks.

Also? My internet goes dark tomorrow. So if you don't hear from me in a couple weeks there are several possibilities:

1. I murdered someone from this damn moving company and am now waiting to serve 50 to life.

2. I've been crushed under my boxes of crap.

3. I gave up on the drive to Texas and ran away to Canada to drive the ice roads.

4. I internally combusted from all the stress and am in bits on the floor.

5. I drank myself into a coma and am in the fetal position in the corner.

I'm going to vote it's most likely going to be number 5.