Sunday, December 31, 2006

Dick in a box

1) Cut a hole in a box

2) Put your junk in that box

3) Make her open that box

And that's the way you do it!

(I had fun time at trops/shattered/"el rauncho" tonight!)

Friday, December 29, 2006

"Cher, our stock would plummet"

Had a wonderful and relaxing Christmas at home: I mostly played monopoly with my little sisters, and watched fox news (lol) with my parents. Got BioGen stock from my parents, a scissor sisters poster from Craiger, and a Schlitz beer Saturn-shaped light fixture thing from Al.

It will be displayed prominently and lovingly as a document to the silly shit my brother is always doing.

My break consists of getting my QTL mapping on 10+ hours a day, working out, writing some goddamn stupid personal statements for a huge scholarship—one of those “you know I deserve the money so just give it to me” things.

Have been listening to a lot of Cecelia lately. Definitely a fan, if just for sheer originality, even though her voice is not without some pedantic controversy.

Taking Zipper to the dog park in the morning to play with Robyn and Molly. Hopefully Zipper will keep it in his pants—metaphorically that is, as he doesn’t wear actual pants because he is a fucking dog.


Friday, December 08, 2006

Getting drunk at work on a Friday afternoon, riding my bike home in the snow, and listening to Freder-Deder and Schwarzkopf sing Wolf's Spanische Liederbuch is my favoritest thing *ever*.

Friday, December 01, 2006


Woke up to find my 8+ months pregnant roomie, Mey-ru shoveling her car. Since I didn't feel like driving a woman in labor to the hospital, I finished the driveway. Heavy snow=back-ache.

Pouty pirate?

Encouraged by a dance remix of Holiday, I spent the *entire* day compiling our project for molecular: the Ultrabithorax gene in drosophila, and if I do say so myself, that it is a manifesto.

What am I going to do tommorrow?

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Woke up in a cold sweat this morning before my alarm.

Had a dream where the "very hungry" snake that I had "forgotten" in my backpack for several weeks got out and was chasing the dean of the school of music and biting him. I was running in circles on Lowry mall while the snake stretched like an rubber band to chase me from the horizon.


Oh, and it had the colorings of a coral snake, but the body morphology of a green mamba. All skinny and menacing like.

What is it with the Grow boys and snake dreams?


Watched Transamerica with Manda at her request for her term project about transsexual parents.

Me at work, on my phone: "Well, do you know any transsexual parents?"

Kevin Zegers...mmm

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

No one came to my tutoring session tonight, so I had some down-time. Which I spent very unproductively looking at the fluorescent lights and trying to feel my DNA undergoing transcription.

Hey, there it goes!

Woops, false alarm.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Sang a Mozart duet with Becca at the Chancellor’s Residence Preservation Society’s “Italian Garden Party”—aka, how to raise $100,000 to fix up your own house. I was prepared for gratuitous hobnobbing and mingling after being warned of what a “little get-together” for these people usually entails by Craiger—who regularly did things like this with FAWCM.

Many expensive and exotic birds about, including one woman (while dressed to the nines, make-up applied with a paint roller and all, double fisting a wine glass + a program) told us: I would applaud, but I don’t a free hand. [Insert Phyllis Diller laugh, head tilted back 90۫)


Later we ran into her and she said in passing (still holding the Chardonnay aloft as a liberty torch of sorts): “Went to the Peking opera last weekend. It was horrible. Never go.”

Absolutely fabulous.

All in all, fun (if insincere) atmosphere for performing—and amazing food.


Wore my glasses to work tonight, and when leaving Tucker, I scraped a university van parked all of about 4 inches to my right. Got out and explained to the guy that I “can’t see a fucking thing with these goddamn glasses on”. He seemed very nonchalant and reassured me he could care less about a scratch.

While not hitting parked cars today I, in short:
1) Went to work
2) tutored
3) practiced
4) had Die Zauberflöte rehearsal
5) Went to class
6) made a marinated artichoke heart, calamari olive, tomato, feta, red onion, evo, and lemon basil (picked from my front porch, thank you very much) salad to go with my roast beef and tahini-dijon sandwich tomorrow.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Played beer pong with Champagne while listening to Tchaikovsky (= V for Vendetta).

I’ve planted the seeds of incongruity in my life—now all I have to do is harvest them.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Had a fabulous weekend:
Played with zipper, Craig’s new miniature Schnauzer puppy Saturday morning then went to see half-naked men wearing short shorts with Robyn. I mean, went to watch the Rugby game with Robyn. Right...

Went to Shatterday—it was fun, but I required more libations than usual to coerce the dancing. Acted a damn fool, but that’s what Shattered is for I guess. (PS, starting to feel disdain for Saturdays=such a plebian evening, with all the working blokes out and such)

Spent most of Sunday reading the A/L from the Times. And practicing. And doing homework. And at work.

So far everything is going well with me this semester. However, I am freaking about my recital in a month (mostly because the last Poulenc I’m working on are total bitches technically). But classes are going well, opera is going well, work is going well, etc.

Haven’t had the usual major autumnal flip-out that I am accustomed to, so that might be in the making. Prends garde-toi.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Thanks to Mands, I have the new scissor sister's album. And I listened to it *all* day. I have a love in my heart for Jake Shears, because I feel like I really "get" him and what he does. Sighs.

I also watched La Dolce Vita and now am planning to embark on a Netflix induced Fellini fest. If anyone wants to laboriously discuss the movie with me over coffee in a dark jazz house while we wear our side-cocked berets...I'm in.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

 Posted by Picasa
Picture of my ken-doll boyfriend, Craig.

 Posted by Picasa
Later at Trops where Craig wore the great-googly-moogly Robynesque glasses.

 Posted by Picasa
Craig, me, and our new friend Emily making "contemplative" faces.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Show me your bones

Wow, it’s been a while. I’ve been busy. Doing what, you ask?

Ripping up the carpet in my new house, scraping the latex paint off my woodfloors, then sanding them (by hand), staining and polyurethane-ing them. Moving in. Working 40 hours a week while starting my senior year, tutoring at the Learning center, training new rotation students, picking out a recital date (OMG!), and trying to start reviewing for the GRE.

Oh, and getting Mediacom to turn on our internet. How I lament them and their monopolistic/exploitive ways.

The good news is I abso-fucking-lutely love my new house, Rachel, and Me-Ru (my two roommates). Hopefully I’ll post some pictures of my bedroom—decorated in a “natural fiber” motif.

I used the approach developed by Manda and I to buy fireworks to select paint for my room. The walls are “pond-lilly green”—as I told Mandy, “gay-in-a-bottle”. I know Alexis would be proud.

I have to go practice some opera before meeting Craiger and assorted straights at the Coliseum for some well-deserved Bombay Saph. G&Ts.

Ah the pathos!

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Sparked by Garet’s post lamenting more of the same—I have finally congealed my opinion of the package shipping industry.

When our lab ordered Red-Taq, a DNA polymerase that costs $1000/30mL, DHL let shipments sit on their 95 degree truck overnight. Needless to say, the taq was worthless. Our lab didn’t have to pay for this of course—by DHL had to eat the cost. This happed 3 times.

When I order something from, if I don’t explicitly specify on the shipping instructions to put the package in my mail-box, the UPS guy will make attempts to deliver it to my locked door every day at 7AM for 4 days—when it’s company policy to send the item back. This happened 4 times. Seriously…mail goes in mailboxes.

So, what’s a girl to do?

Well, I could get mad and call some 800 number and talk to some phone-zombie in Nebraska, or I could examine the larger social implications of this phenom.

Really, the same thing has happened with the medical industry. When my grandmas were entering the job market, it wasn’t acceptable for intelligent women to be doctors. So they became teachers and nurses. Nowadays there isn’t a barrier to keep competent women from becoming doctors, so that leaves a void in positions that used to be stricty “for the girls”--teachers, nurses, etc.

All the capable men—men who when given a job use common sense to efficiently accomplish it—don’t work for DHL, Fedex, UPS. They are now CEOs. America has been invaded by the “duhs”.

As we all know, I can’t go 5 minutes without being some pansy queer, so I will negate any intellectual worth of what I just wrote.

Here’s this. YUM.

 Posted by Picasa

Sunday, July 30, 2006

The song is "Send me an angel" by Real Life. But Sarah and I could both swear that they said, "send me an Asian."

Boy, does that conjure a bizarre mental image.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

2 realizations

1)I can and will go on living my life as one big "cost-benefit-ratio".

2)Mahler is so emo. Sometimes we all need a good cry.

Monday, July 24, 2006

Ok I have a confession. A deep dark confession.

I feel like after the first few months of blogging I have revealed all the interesting thoughts, desires, experiences (I would feel comfortable sharing with an anonymous reader).

I've told you, gentle reader, of my:
parallel life with Norman Rockwell paintings,
my disdain for Telemundo,
emulation of Florence King--a southern humorist and misanthrope,
First experience with the sea,
fondness of quoting obscure Whitman,
my dreams in which I lead a field of cheerleaders to South Pacific's "gonna wash that man right otta my hair"

But now all I have to talk about is how I spend 65+ a week at work, run to the gym or FAB, and then climb into bed so I can wake up and do the same thing the next day. Starting at 6:00AM.

If there’s anything more pathetic than a uninteresting person—it’s a uninteresting person trying hard to be witty or interesting. “I’m quirky. Like me!” (pleading) “Really—I’m quirky and interesting.”

I mean, I wear little nerd glasses, I watch several Rag-tag films a month, I read Trends in Genetics and practice bel canto arias in my free time. Why do I feel so bland?

Think Mildred from Of Human Bondage.

So, here it is: the one shred of a tidbit of something about me no one else knows:

Each week when I read postsecret, I try to pick out which ones might apply to me. I think of it as a horoscope of sorts. This week’s checklist:


But the one that fits me best is:

 Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

I can bitch, bitch, better than you!

110 degrees with the heat index. Day number 3 of getting up at 5:30 so I can be at the field with my cooler by 6:15AM.

Delusional from the sun, I am imagining be-sequined black afro'd back-up dancers singing "Ooo, talkin' bout a heatwave!". Think Sister Act. I know.

The good news is: I think my tongue is dyed permanently blue from the 4 liters (I'm absolutely serious) of delicious, delicious poweraid that I drank today.

PS- I fucking hate glorified secretaries with PhDs. And a democratic socialist state that sanctions their existence. That is all.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Tina Turner & Elton John - The Bitch Is Back Live '99


Monday, July 10, 2006

Carreau! Pique!

Rainy days are perfect for ruminations. Stewing. Milling. Contemplation.

Here’s what I thought about today:

To hearken back to last night Mark and Craig: I do believe Pears and Britten were both versatile, but definitely Francis was the top, and Bernac the bottom. I just can’t imagine Poulenc on his back getting jack-hammered by a lyric baritone. Why do I care?

Strong women intimidate me. And turn me on. How naughty.

Epigenetic regulation of polyploids is more interesting than my current QTL mapping project of Spb1. However, our Chromosome 7 QTL is very close to zmet1 (a methyltransferase), histone 1a, but also intensifier 1. I hope to the Divine Miss M that Spb1 is actually an epigenetic modifier of Pl-Bh. If it’s not I will throw a tantrum.

Bombay Sapphire is the best gin ever made. I would so pour it on my Cheerios in the morning. Don’t tempt me.

Brent Corrigan can wurk it.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

le choix (n'est pas heureux)

Carmen is over! It was absolutely breathtaking. Pictures to follow. Thanks to everyone who came--singers are fragile.

Robyn’s 21st B-day party was preposterous. Imbibed way too much, and spent most of this afternoon rehydrating and watching the Cup finals. Zidane?! Wtf.

Sunday, July 02, 2006

It lingers, then you forget (you're a rock-n-roll suicide)

Oh Children.

After my blog was down for a couple days last week (wtf?) and Alan asked me if its leave of absence portended my death, I just wanted to see if posting worked. So “erer” were the first 4 letters that my little fingers hit. Sorry to all your theories. And Garet, you know I don’t do anything by accident.

My B-day was fabulous! I drank a lot and remembered most of it. I feel so blessed to have such fabulous friends. Sigh. Dancing to pussy control with Emily Bennett was an experience.

In other news:

Working like a maniac!

Nervous for Carmen, practiced for 4 hours today.

To my utmost delight, my fridge didn’t liquefy my bag of mixed greens from Miriam. So right now I am making a tomato, feta, lemon-garlic chicken, cranberry/walnut salad with Raspberry vinaigrette dressing. Eat your heart out.

Random story from this morning:

Having breakfast at Cucina Sorella this morning, and when some very dykey girl loudly ordered the exact same thing as me, it prompted my aghast question: “Is that lesbian food?”

Craig: “Does it come in a large bag like birdseed or dogfood?”
Ed: “Purina Lesbian Chow, now with real bits of carpet.”

Someone should really stop us. So un-PC.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Just got back from a float-trip (aka, 48 hours of non-stop debauchery).

Quote of the trip: As we were talking to the camp owner about our liability waiver we had to sign Joe says, "Whoa. Excessive drinking? We're getting into kind of a gray area here."

So whenever I get pictures for that I'll post them.

In other news: My B-day is on Thursday! I turn 21! Watch out Como! I'm going to burn you to the ground!

At the risk of being once again chided by Craig, I'll post my birthday present wishlist, which consists of one thing.

Oh, and Alan, if midget porn is decadent, what is Hungarian-homosexual-Identical-twin-porn?

 Posted by Picasa
Baseball in the dark is a bad idea! K-Dawg, Lane, and Craig are apparently making badass faces...I didn't get the memo. Maybe I was too busy being hit with a baseball in the eye.

 Posted by Picasa
Craig and I post-aforementioned-baseball-in-the-eye incident at Addison's for Mandy's B-day.

 Posted by Picasa
Craig and I at Bethany's recital. Whitney in the background doing her "I'm-going-to-be-in-every-picture-goddamnit-face".

 Posted by Picasa

Whitney Reed and Me at the 'Boig for her B-day. Yes, again we are pouty-pirate Olsen twins while Tessa dissapproves in the background.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Have a lot of irons in the fire (gawd, do I deplore that alegory).

Research is going well, having to interact with others: less well.

Have my first lesson with Dan tomm. Excited!

I feel like I am standing on the horizon, looking into the sun. ("Your star, it burns!")

Thursday, June 08, 2006

In between projects these last two weeks, I have discovered that there are so many hours that one can spend practicing /biking /running /working-out.

Yay for Nick laughing through The Omen and drinking flaming bacardi 151 out of orange halfs at NKN.

I am America. I am the president. I am the olympics!

Thursday, June 01, 2006

During my move across the hall to live with Lane for the summer, Manda and I discussed the peculiarity that is Paquin Tower.

For you non-CoMoers, Paquin Towers is a 15 story apartment building right next to U-Place. As far as we can tell, only mentally and physically handicapables live there. The formula for a typical resident is pretty simple: morbidly obese, riding a jazzy (often with a boom-box tucked underneath), and with a very small lapdog in tow. This fat-jazzy-lil’-dog prototype begs the question: when someone moves into Paquin Towers, do they automatically get a small dog?

“Hello. Welcome to Paquin Towers. Here are your mailbox key, bedsheets, and a small dog to serve as a foil to your enormous, bloated, handicapped body.”

One time Alan and Bianca took pictures of all the gas stations in Rolla and put them in a photo album. Manda and I are scheming right now to set up shop on the adjacent parking garage and dutifully document this handicapped person-dog phenom.

I love the summer.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Busy couple of days:

Saturday: Eryn, Rick and I drove to St. Louis to go to Janet’s wedding. Janet is a 5”11’ goddess of a brunette vet that I live with 2 summers ago. The wedding was fabulous-- saw Kayla and have begun planning our 2 big parties for the summer: the "wine" party and the “come as your favorite gay stereotype” party.

The next morning Rick got sexually harassed by an extremely old woman at a Waffle House. He’ll have to tell you about that.

Sunday afternoon was spent driving to Rolla and helping the Worsey’s prepare for their 3 child graduation party. I made tiramisu! Then Howard and Tristan and I finished 2 fifths of rum before the guests arrived. My 3rd grade teacher and her 4 children showed up. That was neither awkward nor weird. Really.

The party was lovely—but Rick/Eryn/I drove back to CoMo at 11. Showed up at Nick's 21st B-day party. As expected, there were: Nick’s vomiting high school friends, crying Natalie, responsible and sober Laura Donnely, and a 2:30AM trip to all of the Taco Bells in Columbia.

Yesterday Craig and I went to the batting cages and I am sore. From the batting cages. Wink.

So to sum it all up: I was drunk for 3 days solid. My liver has jumped ship and got the last life boat. TTFN.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Went to trops last night with Craig and then to Booches to see Rachel and Jesse.

I told Craig that since we can't have children, we can get 2 dogs. A skinny greyhound named Ed Jr. and a muscly bulldog named Craig Jr. How domestic!

PS-I really want a dawg.

 Posted by Picasa
When I was home last weekend, my dad and I watched the Addidas Track Classic. During the last lap of the men’s 800, they cut away to Barry Bonds get intentionally walked…live. I hate you ESPN/Baseball/Barry Bonds.

I started running again!

Everything hurts.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

 Posted by Picasa

Probably Craig will leave some venomous (and well-justified) comment, but I had to post this picture of Hu-Jackman. Even though the WSJ dished it hard, I’m going to see X-Men, if not for the sole reason: Wolverrine’s chest hair. Grrrowwlll….

Friday, May 19, 2006

My problems put in perspective.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Last night I drank it up with Mike, Mitch, and Caleb. Weapon of choice=mojitos, Mike's home-made stuff.

I will be so sad when Mike and Jenn leave for Mali.

Sunday, May 14, 2006

Had a very sane finals week—only music finals, so I spent a good chunk of the last 7 days with Amaretto sours from Trops. Think I did well in all my classes, my jury went pretty well. I am so excited for summer!

I am going to be working on several things this summer:
1) My project…yeah, I have my own corn…it’s pretty amazing.
2) Taking lessons from Dan to get ready for my recital in October.
3)Singing in a concert version of Carmen in July here in Columbia. Even if it is a small part, I am totally psyched.
4) Catching lots of bugs.
5)Spending more time with my friends.
6)Working out more.
7)Doing the Show-Me games, maybe the 800, probably not the 5K.
8) Turning 21 and drinking like Frank Sinatra! (That’s why the lady is a tramp…)

Usually the prospect of large amounts of time with nothing to do scares me. Creation (singing, thought, originality) takes a back seat to production (school work). I guess in my twisted mind, I equate my need for a sense of purpose with fighting against something. Real or unreal, I often perceive my self-worth as a measure of how much I have struggled—thus my habit of inventing new hurdles to jump through (ie, taking 20 hours a semester, double majoring, working a part-time job, maintaining a relationship, etc). Being a slave to the meritocracy is my way of life. If I'm not fighting, then I feel no impetus to exist.

Such is mango.

So I’m going to make a conscious effort to chill out.
[Jules: Bitch, be cool!]

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

 Posted by Picasa
Lane also sent me this picture of Kristin and Alicia entitled "Alicia looking trampy." Absolutely priceless.

 Posted by Picasa
I'm not sure exactly how this came about (probably some finals-induced wackiness), but this is the plaque that I applied to our apartment door earlier this week. Aaron was not amused.

Sarah: "I don't think that will help you with the ladies, Aaron."

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Blog whore? Not me officer.

For the past year or so, I have been reading the blog of Jewish/Russian immigrant/gay-porn director/ego-maniac Michael Lucas. Most of his posts are about 1 of 2 two things:
1) exploiting the new fresh-faced porn star he’s found or
2) attacking anyone who says anything bad about homosexuals, homosexuality, the inherent goodness of gay porn, etc.

To a point this becomes tedious, but nonetheless, I find him very entertaining. He is very un-PC—which I find fabulous in a “where everybody thinks, but doesn’t say it” age. Lucas says what he wants, and doesn’t care what anybody else thinks—which might be a result of having a 10-inch dick.

The dichotomy of having a gay-porn director endlessly philosophize about politics gets me every time.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Strange stranger in a strange land

As I was walking home from work late last night, I noticed that the lights were on in the green-house by Tucker (the building I work in). Upon closer inspection, I saw lots of little bugs crawling on the glass. Imagine my excitement after months of insect-free winter, to see hundreds of teeming miniatures swarming in front of my very eyes! Ok, you probably can’t—but anyway. I found some beetles and some mayflies that I didn’t have in my collection yet, so I was pretty stoked…but I digress.

So I am carrying my flat-tired bike, with a backpack on my shoulders, talking on the phone to Natalie, and trying to one-handedly pick the bugs off the glass and put them into an empty cinnamon Altoid box I scrounged out of my backpack—when I hear behind me: “May I enquire exactly what you are doing?”

A cute girl asks, several paces away from me, shrouded in the darkness beyond the penumbra of the nightmare glow of les serre chaude, as it were. Judging by how calculated and tactfully she asked her question, she encountered many crazy scientists in her life, and knew just how deal with them. After I explained what I was doing, we both had a good laugh.

Her: “I just saw you pawing at the glass and I thought you were either drunk or on something.”

Ok, Ed. This is a hint. Your normal behavior suggests drug-use and/or mental instability. Take it down a notch.

Picture of Whitney and I (in our horrible, tramp-stage make-up) before Dido this weekend. I think we are making Mary-Kate and Ashley faces.
 Posted by Picasa

Friday, April 14, 2006

Typical Friday thought:

Today marks the 4th time a total stranger has approached me and complemented me on my john deers.

Random woman: Excuse me, where did you get your shoes?
Me: Zappos
Random woman: That’s my favorite color.

A couple weeks ago a Salt-Lake City airport security officer literally followed me into the terminal asking questions about my shoes. She told me her bf is Irish, he loves green, blah, blah.

Some people use philanthropy to spread cheer or good-will among mankind. I rely on my beautiful footwear.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

My recent experiences with the moon:

1)Bethany sang Rusalka’s song to the moon in her recital last night.

2) Listened to Wozzeck in class: Aber der Mond verrät mich…der Mon dist blutig. (See how the moon betreays me…the moon is bloody)

3)As I sat reading “The man with the blue Guitar” tonight (It is the sun that shares our works/The moon shares nothing. It is a sea), I looked out my window to see the mooning rising (as in Walt Whitmann: Lo the moon ascending, out from the east—the silvery round moon.)

4) Seeing the moon out of my window tonight reminds me of my obsession with the children's book Harold and the Purple crayon. It was one of the first things Craig and I read together when we first started dating—a year ago today.

What does all this mean?

Friday, April 07, 2006

Emo post

I have been sick most of the week, and so that kind of put me in a despondent mood. After receiving minimal assistance from Student Death, I have spent the last couple of days taking a cocktail of OTC remedies for my (debilitating) sore throat. Here’s a pathetic picture: Sitting in my room listening to Tosca over and over, reading Wonderbread and Ecstasy: The Life and Death of Joey Stefano (the first bottom to be a gay porn star, who died of AIDS/drug overdose in 1994), and popping handfuls of Mucinex, Advil, Benadryl, Claritin, Sudafed, and Robitussin like they were a Halloween kiddie-mix.

Pouty Pirate.

Now that I am feeling a little bit better (thank god), I am going to see Pierrot Lunaire tonight. (I’m sure that will help me feel more cheerful, lol.) This weekend I pretty much going to study as much as possible and try to fix my serotonin imbalance by spending as much time in the sun as possible. Wish me luck, gentle reader.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Now that I am back in Missouri, I busy again with the Baatan death march that is my life. (soundtrack=Music History CD, Stravinsky/Wagner/Debussy/Berg).

Performed in master class today that was very productive. I guess I run hot and cold with this music thing. Some days I never want to sing again, some days I can’t find enough time to practice. Isn’t that the hallmark of an artist? Flighty and Fickle. I guess it beats insanity. Or syphilis. Schumann, Wolf, Schubert…

Who's exicited for 9.5 hours of class starting this morning at 8AM? (music history, aural training, physics 2, biochem, vocal lit, 2 hour opera rehearsal, 2.5 hour physics lab)

[Nerd in back of class waves hand]

pp Posted by Picasa

pp Posted by Picasa

My spring break was absolutely wonderful.

Craig and I left for Salt Lake City (crawling with ‘mos—who knew?) on Wednesday. I got to meet his friends from the Utah (pronounced be me on the trip as ooo-tay-huh) period of his life. We went to Moab to see the Arches National Park, and did a lot of hiking. We even saw Delicate Arch (after a 3.5 mile hike) at sunset. Our pictures turned out great—they really are postcard material.

We stayed at a bed and breakfast, run by an older Belgian couple. Since I talked on the phone to the wife (we nicknamed her Tsa-Tsa) earlier that week, I knew we would be in for a treat. “Vood you like zum Vaffles?”

On Friday we rented ATVs and rode them for 4 hours on a huge outdoor complex with trails for mountain bikers, dirt bikers, and four-wheelers. It was super butch.

I also went to my first gay club Friday night. It was an interesting experience. Not quite as wanton as the homosexual debauchery in QAF, but still very fun.

I also got to visit BYU and saw where Craig went to school. It would almost be worth putting up with the dress code and repressive moral standards to be able to go to school in the middle of a beautiful mountain range. I want mountains. I hate you flat Missouri.

But I love you vacation with my bf!

Monday, April 03, 2006

I just got back from Utah this evening and am too drawn to post. Gentle reader, just know that I felt like a real person for 5 days. No biochemistry, QTL, PCR, SSRs, physics, dominant 9th chords, sonata rondo form, or Schoenberg. It was GLORIOUS. Pictures and posts to follow, kittens--I promise.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

 Posted by Picasa

Last semester I took an entomology class that was the culmination of 13+ years of bug-geekiness.

Yes, I was the kid who ran around with butterfly nets, caught moths at baseball games instead of paying attention, and drove my parents absolutely crazy with my insect fanaticism. After junior high my obsession waned…maybe it was that I was scared of becoming an entomologist in the fashion of Silence of the Lambs?

Anyway, this past fall, I got back in the swing of things, and this is a picture of approximately 1/3 of my collection (which I got a 110% on).

I would like to thank the academy and my saint of a roommate, who put up with the ziplock bags full of vegetable matter and bugs in our freezer.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Had a fun weekend, never expected to:

1) Watch Patrick Dell vomit into the sink repeatedly.
2) See Craig kissed by 3—yes count them, 3 straight guys (on second thought why does that surprise me?)
3) Dance to criss-cross in brown town with my pants on backwards? (PS-I love you Jaime/Scott).
4) Actually hear the words from Mike’s mouth, “She hit me with a spoon in the ear, and now I’m bleeding.”

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Stickin' it to the man (Darwin)

Nothing like not being able to breath to remind yourself that you are a peanut allergic, severely nearsighted, asthmatic, genetic aberration that has slipped through the cracks of natural selection. Yay for me.

 Posted by Picasa
Craig and me after the opera a few weeks ago.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

 Posted by Picasa

Manda and I went to see the Eagles of Death Metal last night in KC. They were fucking fabulous! The Strokes were also pretty good—although I have never seen that many teenage Caucasian boys with wafros in my life.

I haven’t been so excited about a current band since I discovered the Scissor Sisters in fall of ’04.

The lead singer of EODM, J-Devil, was amazing…anyone who describes their mustache as a “soft-boomerang-of-love” is boss in my book.

Several inconsequential observations made over the past week:

1)I saw a guy throwing away pill-boxes of soil samples into the dumpster outside the geology building. Ok, ok, I know they are “soil samples”, but the ridiculousness of throwing dirt in the trash can struck me as subtly metaphoric.

2) While going through the Hardee’s drive-thru I saw a man (dressed semi-nicely) open his door and bark into the speaker. When I write “bark”, I mean *bark*, he sounded like a smoker with an angry bull seal voice (later Manda and I referred to him as “seal man”). More remarkable was the 18-inch long string of drool hanging from his chin. He made no attempt to wipe it off, and as far as I know, he didn’t even know it was there. It wasn’t runny drool, it was really goopy, and eventually, when he stumbled back to his Kia, the drool strand got caught on his car door. He then drove off.

This left me wondering. What is the explanation for this seal barking/drool episode? Did other cars see this behind me? Was he drunk at 1:30 PM on a Sunday? Was he having a heart-attack? Why am I so fascinated by the grotesque, that I would replay this situation over and over in my head for the past week trying to discover what was going on?

PS-Don’t think I am an obese American who eats at Hardee’s all the goddamn time (I read Fast Food Nation, thank you very much)—but my skinny emo-hipster diet of canned fruit and ramen noodles causes me to have severe, but occasional fat cravings to prevent my brain from metabolizing my other weaker, more passive internal organs.

3)I saw two (presumably) city-girls transfixed by a possum in a tree on my way to class on Wednesday. They were standing in front of the tree, dressed in their Northface fleece, cuffed jeans and ugg-boot best, while holding up their camera phones and saying things like:

Girl 1: Is that a possum?
Girl 2: I think so. Is it sleeping?
Girl 1: Yeah. This is so crazy.

People from the city have such an over-reverence for nature. It’s really just funny. I suppose when you grow up in the middle of buttfuck-nowhere Missouri (which sounds like more fun than it is), and cows routinely get out of their fences and amble their clumsy bovine selves up your driveway…you just get used to being surrounded by dumb wildlife.

4)After the Eagles of Death Metal concert, Manda and I got back to Columbia after last call tonight, and witnessed what could only be described as a mass-migration of light jeans/striped oxford shirt-wearing, stumbling frat boys making their way back to wherever they came from.

We saw at least 15-20 in the span of a block. They looked exactly the same. It’s like a uniform. An army uniform for cookie-cutters.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

 Posted by Picasa

In honor of BBM appearance at the Academy Awards, last night Craig and I watched what could possibly be the gayest best picture winner ever: An American in Paris. It has extended dance sequences, lots of Gershwin undertones, and gayest of all, Gene Kelly in tight yellow spandex.

[Cue Lighted fountain and brass sequence, “And then I realized, I love Josh.”]

Alright, he’s kind of a Baldwin. Sigh.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Ok, so Craig and I went to the construction party of Generic, this bar owned by his boss. It was fun, and the name generic was fitting. It was crawling with beautiful, cookie-cutter frat rats and bleach blonde sorority supa-tramps.

They had decorated the place with caution tape and had paid some skinny blondes to wear Lowe’s toolbelts and go-go dance. Lol, the straight people were trying so hard. It was cute.

If I have learned anything from Damon, it is to properly tip the dancers. I found the cutest one and stuck some dollar bills into her knee-highs.

Woke up this morning with a headache, but still managed to power through it and go to my 11 o’clock. It is a beautiful day. I love you Thursday!

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Good things about today:

I aced my biochemistry quiz.

I had an amazing practice session, in which I hit, get ready for it, a high G. Oh, God, it was glorious. My good voice day more than made up for opera which is *so* dragging right now. I can’t wait for staging.

I remembered how to use the matrix function on my calculator, which cut my 2 ½ hour physics lab down to 45 minutes. Nerds kick ass! (I told you that reading the entire HP 48G user’s guide would come in handy one day.)

I am going with Craig to the opening of a new bar on Broadway down from BR's. Getting my game face on to drink like a fish. Beware.

 Posted by Picasa
This time of year, when things are cold and gray, I end up listening to Joni Mitchell’s California. And think of better things to come.

Sunday, February 19, 2006


 Posted by Picasa
Things went better than I had hoped this weekend. As with anything in life, it isn't perfect.

But I am content. People surprise me.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Sad but true

My mom just sent me a newspaper from my home town (as she often does) with things of interest, i.e., Michelle/Dalton engagement announcement, a feature on my XC buddy Lance who was an extra in a film.

And in the upper corner was the tag-line of “‘BrokeBack Mountain’ up for Oscars” which she had X-d over and written in pen beside: “what an insult.”

Given, I am not out to Christian-conservative parents (which is something I feel an increasing need to fix), so I know my mom didn't mean to hurt me, but this simple act made me really sad.

I love my mother very much (Hello! I *am* a cancer.), and I know exactly what she would say if I confronted her. Something about how BBM is offensive to the 99.99% of straight cowboys (which is probably true, lol).

And that is exactly the problem. Whenever the general entity called “Hollywood” does anything depicting a minority group, anyone who sees the movie assumes that it is a generalization of all, fill in the blank__: gays, blacks, transvestites, vampires, etc.

There are some parts to BBM that I find very saddening (notice I don’t use the word “offensive”)—basically the storyline that involves men that cheat on their wives. That is not ok; I don’t care how much society has “oppressed” anyone.

But because the movie depicts infidelity is not why my mother has such contempt for the movie, because I bet you 500 million dollars she hasn’t seen it, and probably never will. And I don’t feel the need to defend something from a defamer that is poorly informed.


I had a great Valentine’s Day. I cooked a candlelight dinner for Craiger, it was simple but fun. [3/4 of a way through an entire bottle of sparkling wine, me: “This is alcoholic?!]

I feel lucky that I can celebrate Valentine’s Day, because the holiday sucks *so* much for single people. I know, because I’ve been there. One of my saddest memories is spending my V-Day evening in my senior year of high school studying for my AP Calc test listening to Aimee Mann’s “One” on repeat.

Ah the pathos!

To all my single friends who are tired of being single, keep your chin up—and someday the most wonderful person will waltz into your life. And they will love you.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

 Posted by Picasa
Saw Match Point last night with Craig, Jaime, and Scott at Rag-Tag.

I think it would best be described as “deeply unsettling”. By the end of the movie, Jonathan Rhys-Meyers had created so much empathy for his character…well-- I’ve said too much.

Go see it.

Friday, February 03, 2006

 Posted by Picasa

I am fascinated by French actor Gaspard Ulliel (he was so charming in A Very Long Engagement). He is also appearing in a new Hannibal Lector movie, which is a mistake, I think.

My interest in Gaspard Ulliel was piqued because he reminds me of a boyish Schubert.

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Beginning of the end

 Posted by Picasa
The label said: "fairway", but I will call them "my John Deers". And they will be my baby.

This is the first time I have ever bought shoes to cheer myself up. Gawd, is this the beginning of a downward spiral of compulsive consumption? (I mean "the act of consuming", not the condition that dying sopranos invariably have.)