Happy Halloween!!!

And in the spirit of the day, I thought I'd share some pictures.

Dog as an Elf

Yellow Cat as a pimped out Elf

Yellow Cat as a Ladybug

Black Cat as a Demon

Black Cat as a Demon, Take 2

I know it seems like Black Cat got the short end of the stick on this post, but...I don't have any pictures of her in a costume. So she got to be the Demon Eyed Cat. Sorry, Black Cat.

The Day Before Halloween

'Twas the Day before Halloween and all through the world, strange things were happening right in front of this girl. So strange were these things that she went to the computer, opened her blog and wrote about scooters.

Ok. I'm not really going to write about scooters. But it was the ONLY THING that (kind of) rhymed and (kind of) made sense.

• There was a road sign today on my way to work that said that the road will be closed for 5 hours this weekend because of a street race. Maybe I don't fully understand the nuances of that message, but...aren't street races dangerous? And also, illegal? And yet, the Department of Transportation (or whoever is in charge of putting up those electronic road signs and closing down roads) is okay with this? And even if I'm wrong and street races are actually as legal and safe as skim milk, is it really a great idea to have people racing on a street that is always teeming with pedestrians?
• I really enjoy walking across the quad on campus because there is always--ALWAYS--something crazy going on there. On Tuesday, there was a man re-enacting bible verses that pertained to hell and the devil. At one point, he halfway climbed up a tree, threw himself off, and then lay on the ground writhing and yelling about how if you succumb to sin, you will be thrown into the flames. Today, in that same spot, there was a condom distribution booth set up and the people who were running the booth had (hopefully unused) neon-colored condoms pinned all over their clothes. And they were tossing condoms to all passers-by. Since I passed by, I got one flavored like cookie dough ice cream. Didn't even realize they MADE those.
• For the past six weeks or so, I've gone to Bruegger's for lunch every Tuesday and Thursday. And every single time, I get a bowl of soup and a strawberry yogurt. And EVERY SINGLE TIME, the woman at the counter says, "Soup and a yogurt, what a combination!" And she says it like it's the first time she's ever said it. Every. Single. Time. So now I'm wondering if maybe she has that form of amnesia where you keep losing your memory every few minutes, so she really thinks that we've never had this conversation before.

A Disclaimer

So. Back when I was busy being envious of pregnant people, I was the kind of obnoxious human being who thought things like "Oh, morning sickness...I'd SO like to experience morning sickness!" and "I can't wait until my clothes no longer fit me because that will mean I'm growing a PERSON, how cool!" Now that I'm 12 weeks into this mess? Um. 28 weeks seems like a really, really long time to go.

Now, let's backtrack for just one teeny, tiny moment so that I can say that there are STILL days when I'm grateful for the crazy, tomato-product fueled nausea because it serves to convince me that all is going well with this pregnancy. That said, when I'm actually in the MIDST of this aforementioned sickness? All I can think is "Oh. My. God. I CHOSE for this to happen to me."

And granted, when I'm at home, it's very exciting that when I look in the mirror, I very definitely look bigger because this FURTHER convinces me that maybe, just maybe, we'll get to bring home a baby in about 7 months. But. If I'm showing at home, it means I'm showing at work. Which means that (a) three people have told me in the past 24 hours that it looks like I've been overindulging in donuts and the like and (b) I now have to constantly wear a jacket because of the whole not-being-ready-to-tell-my-advisor thing.

But every time I think something like "Geez, I wish this nausea would GO AWAY already," or "Hm, it sure would be nice if I could fit into my pants without using a rubber band contraption to hold them closed," the very next thought in my head comes from the snarky, superstitious voice telling me to SHUT UP before the universe hears me complaining and decides to take away the nausea, the belly, AND the baby. So this is my message to the universe: "Dear Universe, I'm THRILLED to be pregnant. I'm excited to be experiencing these things because the alternate would be terrible. But when the smell of BEING INSIDE makes you gag every time you walk into a building and it's too cold outside to live in a tent? You're allowed to voice your complaints."

And I Decided To Go To Grad School Because...?

Reason # 151 to avoid academia:

Me: Hi, Stats Professor, I had some questions about the Statistics I'm using for my thesis. So...if I wanted to determine whether the improvement of scores is greater in Group A than in Group B, what would I do?

Stats Professor: Well, you could think of it as a correlation of related correlations. But that wouldn't fully capture the improvement, so maybe instead, you should think of the first set of scores as predicting the second set. Then, all you have to do is write an equation to remove the correlation between the two sets, and then add group membership as your new predictor. But make sure you also look at the interaction between the correlation and group membership, because otherwise, you might be looking at a three-dimensional issue from a two-dimensional viewpoint.

My notes as a result of this conversation: Correlations...group membership...three dimensional...good grief, I'm NEVER GOING TO GRADUATE.

And Reason # 152 to avoid academia:

Advisor: Anisha, Professor Z wants a new publication, so I told her about the literature review section of your thesis proposal. So if you don't mind, could you send me an electronic copy of that so that I could share it with her and see if she wants to publish it?

Me: Um. Ooookay. I guess. But. If Professor Z publishes MY literature review...um...I'd get SOME credit for it, right?

Advisor: Oh, we'd never publish it without your approval!

Side note: My literature review is the thing I've worked on for the past SEVEN MONTHS. By myself. With no input WHATSOEVER from Professor Z. Who now gets to "see if she wants to publish" MY work. And if she decides that she likes it, I get the grand and wonderful privilege of "approving" all this. Notice how "approval" is not the same as "authorship." And even if I did manage to talk my way into getting credit for the authorship of the paper that I wrote in the first place, I would, at best, be listed as the fourth or fifth author. On the paper that--oh, did I mention?--I WROTE!

We Went To The Animal Fair

After 10 full days of HATING the Fair's very existence and what it meant to my daily commute (ie- added an extra 10-30 minutes, depending on the time of day), we finally made it out there yesterday. And as usual, it was terrific. Of course, this year, we had to avoid all the places with animals because the smell of dozens of animals in an enclosed space? Not the greatest when you're already sensitive to smells. But we did stay for 3 hours and despite the raging headache that I earned at the end of it, it was oh-so-worth-it. And here's why:

12:20 - arrive at Fair. Realize that it's 80 degrees and that perhaps the sweater you had chosen that morning was slight overkill. Spend the next three hours trying (fruitlessly) to roll up the sleeves.
12:30 - enter the Fair after standing in what might have been the shortest entrance line EVER. Head straight for the food.
12:32 - eat a corn dog. A yummy, deep-fried, very unhealthy corn dog. Reflect on the fact that this might be the best corn dog ever created.
12:35-12:45 - follow McMoose around as he looks for kebabs because the kebabs at the first stall we pass might not have been good enough. Grumble.
12:50 - McMoose finally decides that in the absence of other options, the kebabs at the first stall would do just fine. Return to the first stall, where McMoose promptly decides that he wants kebabs AND an gyro. Wonder silently which one of you is growing the extra person.
1 - 1:15 - sit in the grass as McMoose munches on his lunch. Realize that perhaps that one corn dog might not have been enough to fulfill your now-constant hunger.
1:20 - Notice an elephant ears stall. Buy an elephant ear with powdered sugar. Get powdered sugar all over your clothes in the process of gobbling what might be the most perfect elephant ear ever created.
1:30 - Start looking for some games.
1:45 - FINALLY find the game stalls. Try to pop some balloons with darts. Fail miserably. Rejoice when you realize that the guy who runs the stall wasn't watching and lets you have a stuffed lobster despite the miserable failure.
1:55 - Walk around shaking your 3-inch-long stuffed lobster, feeling proud. Notice someone else walking around with a 3-foot-long stuffed gorilla. Think to yourself that the lobster is better anyway, because who has room for a 3-foot-tall stuffed gorilla in their living room?
2 - Find another game where you have to throw some rubber balls onto a grid and try to get 5 in a row. Almost keel over in surprise when you actually get 5 in a row. Win a 2-foot-tall stuffed gorilla. Realize that all your prior reservations about large stuffed gorillas have now disappeared.
2:15 - Find a skeeball stall. Spend an unreasonable amount of time, effort, and money playing skeeball. After 10 minutes and $15, realize that you're never going to win at this. Leave.
2:30 - Realize that it's STILL hot and that you're STILL wearing that darned sweater. Grumble. Decide it's time to go home.
2:40 - Make one last stop at a food stall. Buy a very large plate of sweet potato chips. Proudly carry it to the car, trying to ignore the stares of EVERY.SINGLE.PERSON you pass.

Hands down, the best way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

A Most Woeful Dilemma

A couple of weeks ago, when we had gone to visit my mom and stepdad, we brought back a dresser that used to be mine about a decade ago. For about two years now, my mom has been threatening to throw it out and I have said "No, don't do that...I'll get it the next time I visit." And for two years, I kept forgetting that promise. But then! I began making the mental list of all the baby stuff we need and it occurred to me that hey! The dresser is still around! And in reasonably good condition (i.e.- still standing). And it has a carved in design of Winnie-the-Pooh and all of his little friends. And best of all? IT'S FREE!

So we picked it up and brought it home and looked at it and I realized that it didn't look QUITE the same as I had remembered. It had some water stains and some burn marks and the handles on the drawers left a lot to be desired. But no problem, because I had planned to refinish it anyway, so that it would match other things in our apartment. And that, right there? That's where this whole plan starts to fall apart. Because as it turns out, refinishing old furniture? Not as easy as it looks on HGTV.

So we went out and bought sandpaper and the right color of stain and some staining brush-pad things and thought we were all set. And we came home and we sanded. And sanded. And sanded. And after a while, I decided that I HATE sanding and passed that task on to McMoose so that I could begin staining the drawers that had already been sanded. At which point, we realized that sanding ALL the previous stain off the drawers? Not a good plan. Apparently, you're only supposed to sand the varnish off. Who knew! So the next bout of sanding went by much, much faster and we got everything stained a beautiful mahogany color and I thought "Feh. This was eeeeaaasy."

And then, we bought the finish. The clear-coat finish. Which was made to go on top of stained furniture. And there was some warning about "This product might irrevocably damage the stain on your furniture," which I promptly disregarded because this product, as I already mentioned, was MADE to go on top of stained furniture. That's the entire PURPOSE of this product. So why in the world would it damage the stain? I still can't answer the why part of that question, but what I can tell you is this: NEVER DISREGARD WARNING LABELS. EVER. Because as soon as I put the finish on, it began blistering my previously beautiful stain, until it looked like the entire dresser had a horrible skin disease.

Which means that we are now back at the sanding phase. And when I say "we," I mean McMoose. And this weekend is colder than last weekend, which means that I am going to be that much grumpier when I'm out on the balcony re-staining everything. And furthermore? What am I supposed to use to finish this project after I stain it? I mean, if I can't use the product that was INTENDED for this use, what am I supposed to use instead? Cling wrap? Clear Elmer's glue? WHAT?

Thursday: The Third Day

The long awaited bullet post.

• I almost got run over by a man-boy on a bicycle today. And when I say "almost," I mean that he rode OVER my foot and had I not jerked away and put my arms out and pushed him away from me, I would have bike tire impressions on my face right now. I feel bad about pushing him. But I would have felt much worse about the bike tire impressions. And also, this guy? Was leaking alcohol out of his very PORES. At 10 in the morning. Maybe I should start a don't-drink-and-bike campaign.
• I saw a flier for the Underwater Electronics Club today. Let's think about this, shall we? I'm no electrical engineer, so my understanding of this subject goes something like this: Electronics + Water = Not Usually A Good Thing. So...wouldn't the Underwater Electronics Club be somewhat synonymous to the Let's Do Stupid Things That Will Probably Get Us Killed Club?
• Number of times I've tripped today: 14.