Driven to Distraction

This week I am trying an experiment. In order to finish my summer research proposal (Due Thursday) and not fail my upcoming Neuroscience exam this Monday morning, and keep reasonably up-to-date in my other classes, I am going to cut out the two most common time-wasting activities: Reading the "news", and playing Lux on my iPhone.

The news for a few reasons. First, I'm mostly reading it to procrastinate. I like the self-educationnews can provide, but that is secondary to my work avoidance. Also, every time divisive topics come up in the news, I find my ability to concentrate completely gone. I feel like I need to read every article as though eventually one of them will eventually will refute the facts I learned in the first article. Divisive political news does not lend itself to learning how the body works (at least not for me). Lastly, the "news" I read seems each day to be less about important world events, and more tech gossip, celebrity gossip, legal gossip and even political gossip. I can't justify that with all the other things I need to do.

Lux, a knockoff version of Risk, is available as a free version for the iPhone, which I have played relentlessly (to Janelle's, and my own, dismay). I openly use it as a coping mechanism for stress. It is completely ineffective though, as even after having won the game three times in a row, I still crave world domination just as fiercely as when I started. "Lux! I delete you!"
[I am now deleting this off my phone. You'll just have to trust me about that.]

I do sometimes need a break from the books, but I am determined to do that through more productive means. It's getting nicer so I might even try taking walk or two in our wetland trail. I don't know if I'll have time, but going for a run would be nice too. Any other suggestions for a quick (<10 minute) study break/stress buster?

Burnout...

I have finished my third week back since Spring Break, and I'm not sure exactly why, but yesterday at about 5pm my brain decided there was nothing more it cared to do. Granted, Friday was a long day to cap off a long week. In retrospect I was probably burning myself out getting through what I was doing, but now that it is the weekend and I know I have no tests until a week from Monday, I can't seem to focus or keep on task at all.

I've pretty much given myself a pass for tonight, although I may try to read a few things for school. I just feel discouraged, distracted, and unmotivated. Oh, and stressed out. I hope it doesn't take me long to get back to normal.

Anxiety and Excitement

So far I have had two dreams about what life will be like being in school again this fall.

In the first, I arrived at school to find that "school" was actually just some guy in his garage talking about health and medicine with nine or ten of us who I guess got duped into paying tuition. This dream did not leave me very excited about the fall.

In the second, my school was this amazing Utopian community with all white marble palaces for classrooms surrounded with beautiful green fields full of eager students walking to their classes. I know, eh? Pretty impressive. To make things even better, when I got to class, and was sitting in the crowd, I started looking around and realized that some of my best friends from over the years were sitting scattered all around me. We had a joyous reunion and were all there studying and working together. I can't imagine a happier way to start off a return to school.

Generally I don't believe dreams should be used to predict the future, but sometimes I think dreams are pretty good at pointing out the things that I am both scared silly about, and very excited about (especially when they are about things that we have yet to experience). In this case, I am scared silly about heading back to class, and also incredibly eager to start this new chapter of life.

Pomona Lodge (The Atrocities of the)

Good day kind readers. So last month I [actually Janelle] finagled my [our] way into staying at one of the nicest hotels I have ever enjoyed. In fact I have spent several nights at extremely comfortable lodgings since getting married. Quite nice and quite fun. All this to give some contrast to the Pomona Lodge.

Two weeks ago I was visiting Pomona to consider a campus there and meet with some administrators, blah blah blah. Janelle booked my stay and asked me if I wanted to stay somewhere cheaper or nicer. Already feeling guilty about traveling around the country without her, I opted for cheaper.

My flight arrived late and by the time my cab pulled up to The Lodge I was already ready for bed. After paying Amani, my cab driver, I waved goodbye and went to check in at the main office. This is when I realized I would have been better off having Amani take me somewhere else. Oops. The office was about 6'X7' and small enough that, with my luggage in tow, I couldn't close the door behind me. There was only two features: a bulletproof teller-style check-in and 1000 tourist pamplets.

I knew that the evening was too far gone to make other arrangements, so I decided to grit my teeth and just make it work (in the interest of getting lots of sleep and ensuring that the next day would go smoothly). As I walked up to the glass, I saw a sign taped on the inside: "No Drug Deals, No Prostitution." For some reason neither rule made me feel any better.

"I have a reservation," I stammered, knowing this could be a big mistake. "Under 'Andrew Olsen'."
"113," the old Indian man said, returning my credit card and room key.
"Thank you," I replied dishonestly.

As I approached the motel door, a shiny old black sedan (read "pimpmobile") pulled up behind me, headlights on my back.
"Hey!"
Still fumbling with my keys I realized that I couldn't get into my room fast enough to prevent him from shooting me if that was what was his plan.
"Yeah?"
"How much are the rooms here?"
"Fifty-five a night," I replied, wondering if he was hoping for something hourly.
"Are they clean?"
"I'm not sure. I've never stayed here before."
I already felt like I needed a long, hot shower.

That seemed enough to satisfy him and, as he left, I concentrated on getting into the room before being approached again. Key at the ready, my eyes turned to the handle where an ambiguous brown crust was caked onto the handle I needed to pass through. Fortunately I managed to open the door without touching anything but the key. The room, however, wasn't much better.

The immediate insult against my senses was olfactory. Smoke and mold, yes mostly those... but with an unmistakable aroma of old urine. I considered leaving, but was very tired, and knew it would be nearly impossible to find a cab in a bad neighborhood before getting mugged. Besides, I probably wouldn't get shot as long as my door was locked.

As a microbiology lab employee I was keenly aware of potential infections all around me, so the remainder of my stay was paranoia and trying to breathe and touch as little as possible. As I prepared for bed I tried to eliminate the chance of letting my skin touch the sheets. Already well covered, I was thankful to have a pillow from home which adequately protected my face from the toxins and infectious agents that were eagerly waiting to burrow into my skin and give me a weird rash or cause uncomfortable lesions. The night passed slowly, but passed nonetheless.

The only real upside of the entire experience was that, as I checked out the following day, I once more met the old Indian man who checked me in. Learning that I was preparing to go back to school, he gave me an Indian blessing that I would be able to go to school where I wanted to go. It was fun and kind of cool, but I'm not sure if it made up for a night of worrying that, through no fault of my own, I would wake up a host to some new parasite.

Hair-pull-outingly busy

I think that is how I'd describe it. I would love to post more, but sometimes it just doesn't fit in my schedule.

Today's topic is Thermostats.
If someone is hot, why would they turn a thermostat off instead of turning it right off? When I think of turning a furnace off instead of adjusting the heat, it makes me think of someone refusing to eat for a week because they are so full right now. The very thought makes my blood run cold. Oh wait, nope. That chill is just the cold air in my room. My mistake.

I was thinking how much I want a bluetooth thermostat. I would adjust it all the time via computer and program in amazing algorithms of eco-friendly temperatures. It would cool the home whilst I work, and keep it toasty when needed. Then, when I needed to change it because my schedule changes, some sort of consumer-friendly interface would let me readjust it all in mere moments. Programmable ones are too hard to remember what all the buttons do so all their usefulness goes unused. I searched online and couldn't find one though. I guess that is a product our children and our children's children will have to enjoy instead.

Just one problem...

I recently renewed my cell phone plan and got a new phone with it. The phone was practically free and is reasonably small, fast, and well designed with a single exception. The 'shutter' button on the side sticks out just enough that whenever anything bumps into it, it takes a picture. This was made especially apparent as I erased 11 pictures of the inside of my pocket from my phone earlier today. So, if there are any Samsung engineers reading this, the Samsung t439's button needs to be a little less sensitive, thanks.

Thumbs down for Margaret Dayton

Every once in a while I am completely speechless after hearing what some politicians think. Sen. Margaret Dayton, R-Orem, said earlier this week, "I'm opposed to the anti-American philosophy that's somehow woven into all the [IB] classes as they promote the U.N. agenda."

I can't even say how many ways there are that I am offended by what she said. Does she know why the word "international" is in "International Baccalaureate"?
"Anti-American"?
"somehow woven"?
"UN Agenda"?
What? Xenophobic? Uninformed? Basically, I'm mad at her.

If anyone wants to hear me really rant, let me know. Otherwise, just know there's a lot more where this all came from.

Milk

I'm not crazy about milk. I have never been one to have a frosty glass of the stuff or, until recently, even dip cookies in it. From my experience, milk has only two real uses:

1. Cereal
2. Making Kraft Dinner (or "Mac & Cheese" in American)
   

I've tried to convince myself that it's just in my head. Every once in a while I'll decide that if I just get a chilled glass and fill it with brand new cool milk and gulp it down my esophagus, that I will become enamored of its frothy goodness, but each time to no avail. It may simply be in my head, but I have learned that just because something is in your head doesn't mean that is is not real.

I know of some people who don't stop using milk when the "expiration date" "passes" because it "doesn't taste bad yet." I am not one of these people... in fact I am the opposite of these people.

Case in point: I poured myself a heaping bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios this morning and found two jugs of milk in the fridge. one "expires" in four days, the other in six. After opening them, I didn't feel 100% confident that they were 100% okay because something just didn't feel right about the whole situation. If you're familiar with the little girl in Signs, you may understand how I feel about milk I find in the fridge. I poured my cereal back into the box and just had toast instead.

Milk to me is a strange beast. One that I can not quite live without, but that I will never be completely comfortable with.

Too many E sounds

I am worried about the future. I say this because we are coming up on a really awkward year to have to say: 2011.

We won't call it "two-thousand eleven." Saying two-thousand sounds cool at first, but after a whole decade of that, we are ready to move on back to the old system. I mean, why did they stop saying one-thousand? It just gets old.

Twenty-eleven's most unique challenge is that it has two consecutive "E" sounds on adjoining words (Twent-E-E-leven). After much thought and soul-searching contemplation, I think the only solution is to start calling the year "Twent-y-leven."

I agree that it sounds weird now, but I think it is going to really grow on us. I'm sure you'll agree with me once the time comes.

Joys of the Early Shift

A couple days ago was a personal first. It was the first time I got up before 4:30 am to go to work. And yesterday I did it again.

I was a little surprised by how it still felt like "the middle of the night", even though I had already slept a nearly sufficient amount. Luckily the workload for the day was nice and medium. If it is too busy, it makes me go crazy. If it is too slow, the day drags on forever. In fact, the most memorable part of the workday was hearing a guy on CBC radio explain how he was going to start cutting his lawn by attaching very small blades to the ankles of his kittens. That way he doesn't need to pay for gas and he gets exercise running with his kitties.

Also, moving is getting underway. I remembered that I get extra irritable when I get less sleep, and moving my entire family's possessions doesn't seem to help me cheer up much. In fact, the only repose came at the end of the day when I watched some Office episodes at Janelle's.

Well, at least I won't have to work another 5am shift for a little while. Until then, I will have a very profound appreciation for my luxury of sleeping in to 7:30.

Back from Montana 2007

It is quite difficult to recount an entire week of vacation, so I'll only share a few tidbits.

Sometimes little kids are painfully honest:

"Andrew!" shouted three-year-old Laela (my niece).
"Hey Laela!" I replied, "How was your trip?"
Before she could answer, a look of concern clouded her face. After a moment she broke the silence, "Why is your nose so big?"
Laela's mom went into damage control mode. Speaking to Laela, "Andrew has an adult nose. That is why his nose is bigger than yours."
Laela, looking for clarification, started examining the other grown ups' noses from her seat.
"So he's the only adult here then, isn't he?"

One scary experience was my sister's poor driving skills. I have been an irresponsible driver. It was a phase I had to work hard at improving, and sometimes I still fall back into my old ways. I know what it is like to have the whole car mad at you because you put their lives in danger. But really, if you put the car's occupants in danger, you kinda need to change your driving skills. Going over a hundred mph and the driver not realizing how fast you are going is disquieting. As is being in the back seat while going ninety mph on a busy freeway with the driver listening to her iPod and texting.

Overall though it was really fun to float on the lake, watch a lot of the Office, go to my first and last Harry Potter release party, and play with my family and Janelle.

But now it is time to move.

Mr. Puffy-Hand (Update)

My hand is infected with MRSA. Turns out it is a pretty serious bug to get infected with, and luckily I was put on the proper antibiotics quickly. I have since had my hand lanced, I've been given strong painkillers, and I am recuperating nicely.

Only downside is that my treatment supposedly prohibits swimming and sun exposure. I am going to Lake Blaine tomorrow for our family's annual vacation where mostly we swim in the lake and lay around outside in the sun. Too bad about that, isn't it?

Mr. Puffy-Hand

Over the last few days I have started having trouble with my hand. The simulated time-lapse below explains the problem (click on it to see the details). My doctor friend at the hospital says he can get me better and for now, what choice do I have but to trust him? That and praying.

If you read my last post, you can probably guess what spurred that whole line of thought. I thought how there was a real, though slight, chance that this was the beginning of the end. First redness and swelling, then full-blown hand cancer. I actually did spend a few minutes thinking what it would be like if I lost those two fingers on my left hand. If it were infected and the infection got out of control. I'm on antibiotics now, and, they are now coming to save my hand.

From a biological perspective, my hand's situation is really not too dissimilar to that of the people defending Helm's Deep in the second Lord of The Rings movie:

1. The innocent people (my hand cells) are confronted with evil orcs (germs) that are determined to destroy them.
2. The elves (white blood cells) come and offer welcome, though insufficient, reinforcements as the battle starts.
3. All seems lost as the battle gets deeper and deeper into their little castle (the swelling spreads)
4. At the last moment before total destruction, Gandalf (my doctor friend) appears and leads a charge with his friends (antibiotics) down to destroy the orc-germs.

What I'm a dork? It's okay, you can say it. But, if you are thinking I am over-reacting to a little swelling, please remember that almost every day I handle extremely dangerous microbes, and that I don't know how hard it is for those little guys to work their way into my hand. I like to think it is difficult, but I don't know.

On our way to AZ

Yesterday after work I drove Janelle and some of her family down to Page, Arizona to visit her father who is working at the local hydroelectric dam.

Best part: Listening to two hours of her niece telling everyone to “look what’s happening!” or “oh I wouldn’t do that” at the top of her little lungs as she watched a scary DVD.

Worst part: Finding out that there is a slow leak in my minivan’s tire that needs to get fixed before going back to Salt Lake.

Hoping for a prestige

It bothers me that my mom either forgets about or doesn't think about what she throws away. If she isn't sure what it is, you can be fairly certain it will end up in the trash.

Specifically, I am a little bothered right now because of a DVD's disappearance:
My netflix account says that The Prestige should have been sent in time to arrive on Tuesday. I started asking about it this evening and my mom says she hasn't seen any netflix DVDs in the mail all week. Then my sister pipes up that it did arrive and that she put it by the front door with some other stuff (fliers and magazines). So now I pretty sure that it arrived, my sister put it by the door, and my mom threw it out... but doesn't remember throwing it out. It is frustrating. If that is the case, one of my favorite movies of 2006 is now sitting in a landfill somewhere and I'm still paying 9.99/month to not be able to watch it.

My only hope is that, now that she has made the disc disappear, she will continue on to the third part of the trick (the prestige) where she magically corrects the seeming disappearance, and renders to me the missing movie. Actually that would be really cool if she did that.

How’s the Job Search Going?

I think I need to settle down and get a job. It’s time to commit. I know its time because of the phrase, “How’s the job search going?”

At first it didn’t bother me so much, but after all this time I have answered it so many times that I feel like I should have a new answer. Problem is that I don’t have a different answer. It’s still in limbo and I’m getting sensitive about it.

There really aren’t many ways to answer that where you end up with a warm fuzzy feeling. If you have a job, then the job search is over – there is no job search. If you are still interviewing without any solid leads, then it kind of reminds you that even after a long time, you aren’t really good enough for most businesses that you are applying for (even when they think you might be okay at first). If you just don’t have new job search leads, then it is just salt in the wounds. It only drives us deeper into depression, which is problem enough for us, the unemployed, without other people reminding us of our predicament.

So I don’t think I have what it takes to keep answering the inevitable question. I’ve realized that I have hit job search rock bottom. Before I wanted a job, now I need one – psychologically, if not financially.

If you meet people who are not working and need a job, don’t ask them how the job search is going. Just tell your boss that they need to hire the poor fool.

Memory Vault #1

While Janelle and I were working at her brother’s place the other day, she had to leave to go pick up her niece who had fallen and scraped her knee. as Janelle bandaged her up back home, I tried to make the experience less painful by offering the following true story, where I also scraped my knee.

Around the age of 14 or so I was misguided enough to think I was cool (I later learned that this was still part of my awkward stage). I listened to Nirvana tapes, I had a duct tape wallet, and I wore loose corduroy pants to declare my awesomeness to the world. One night during a church youth activity, a few friends of mine accompanied me as we sneaked out and started to play in the rain that had formed large deep puddles in the church parking lot.

After maybe a half hour or 45 minutes I saw my mom’s van moving away as though she were about to drive back home and leave me at the church. I really did not want to wait for other arrangements so I took off running after her. About halfway between the puddle and the minivan I felt my legs freeze in place and my body’s momentum threw me to the ground. In order to protect my teeth and facial features, I had instinctively thrown my hands out in front of me.

You see, I had forgotten to wear a belt that day (as was my custom) and, while I played in the puddles, my pants started to become heavier without my knowing it. When I started to run the pants had in fact fallen to my ankles, and they tripped me.

Fortunately, my teeth and face survived unscathed.

Unfortunately, the pants that now lay about my feet had failed to protect my knees.

Fortunately, I wore underwear that day.

Unfortunately, I was now lying dazed and soaked to the bone in the middle of my church’s parking lot in my sopping wet underwear.

I scraped my hands and knees on the asphalt, but worst of all, my pride was horribly bruised. Each of the five injuries still bears a faint scar from that day’s events.

Moving Home

After about 9 years of living away from home I am now back. It is really interesting what life is like to move back home after a long break. I now live with my mom and my sister.

Things I've liked:

• I like my family.
• I get to talk to people more often (mostly my family).
  
• I like having things to do. I actually enjoy taking out the garbage every once in a while.
  
• The fact that I live in a house, not an apartment.
• We have a full compliment of furniture (this is one that I didn't realize I missed).
  

Things I haven't liked:

• My girlfriend lives 45 minutes away.
• Because my body is nice and comfortable a few degrees cooler than some others, I am pretty hot at night. I have also taken to getting up in the middle of the night and having a drink of cool water. I would rather just sleep.
• I am not used to letting people know where I am and when I'll be places. Your family tends to want to know these things.
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