July 29, 2003

A brand-spanking' new creation

Madison Rose Mrva was born today, 5 pounds and 12 ounces. Pictures and thought will be posted when I have time.

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July 28, 2003

My little addiction (besides caffeine)

Betcha never though I had a green thumb, huh? Well, guess what... I do. Er, sort of. Lately I've been finding myself surrounded by bags of potting soil, plant food, and bonsai pots. Yes, that's right... bonsai. The addiction started when my family took the hint-bombs I dropped and bought me one for Christmas. Now, I can't walk out of a nursery without getting a new shrub to train for my cute little pots. Oh, this addiction... I need to stop.

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July 24, 2003

Rat babies and the miracle of life

Today in the lab one of our pregnant females finally gave birth to a big litter of little hairless rat babies. Her delivery was perfect, and right on time. I missed the actual birth, but got to see how she and her pups behaved shortly after. The little ratties were covered in a bloody yuckiness that mom dutifully cleaned off for them. The helpless pups, who looked a lot like 3-month old human fetuses, were cared for by this rat who never spent a day in lamaze, and had no doctor helping her birth. She just knew what to do. I had read up on rodent breeding a few weeks ago to prepare for our new babies, so I knew to expect such instinctual behavior. What I did not expect, however, was my wonder and amazement while watching this rat lick her babies one by one. I'm still in awe that such an animal, considered worthless and disgusting by most human populations, could so gently handle these inch-long newborns without ever being shown how to do so. I am reminded of these verses in Job:

Do you know when the mountain goats give birth? Do you observe the calving of the deer? Can you number the months that they fulfill, and do you know the time when they give birth, when they crouch to give birth to their offspring, and are delivered of their young? Job 39:1-4

As much as I know about rodent breeding from reading all of the books and papers, I now realize that I am a complete dumbass, and can not possibly comprehend the wonder of life. What instinct and ability God gave this rat, he did not give to me... and this is an animal that until recently, I so despised like everyone else. But she is a creature that is as unique as any other, and is as amazing as any other. Seriously, I know nothing. And I am truly in awe. Yes, over a rat. Oh my goodness.

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July 23, 2003

Any ideas? Anyone?

I'm determined to make my life more exciting.

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July 18, 2003

I've been waiting for this all along

The last few years my radio station has been tuned to 96.5 Kiss FM, where the same Justin Timberlake, P. Diddy, and Linkin Park songs have stayed in heavy rotation for the better part of my listenership. Sure, I switched back and forth between other stations during commercials, and for a while tried 95.5 The Fish hoping for something different. I was always disappointed with the cheese factor of the Christian pop fare, and quickly switched back to Kiss. I figured that hearing the same old crap over and over was better than hearing the same new crap recycled into pseudo-Christian Velveeta pop. But all this time I had hoped against hope that eventually the music scene would start offering me something other than Limp Bizkit and Ludacris... I prayed that Weezer and MxPx would spontaneously multiply and rescue me from the world of boobs and Bentleys. And, praise God, I think it's finally starting to happen.

Rooney. Relient K. Zwan. All American Rejects. The sounds, they are so glorious, I can't believe my ears. Can I just say that I'm thrilled with what I've been finding in music stores lately? Would it be too cheesy of me to act excited? Yeah? Well I don't care, because finally Kiss FM has been booted off my car stereo, and my cd player is getting some use. Oh, thank you Rooney, you've saved my music linstening experience. I think I love you.

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July 14, 2003

Oh, how I feel for those heroin addicts...

My head... is throbbing. I see pink spots everywhere. There is a little vein right beside my left ear that is pulsating like the subwoofers on a 19 year-old's hatchback. I hurt. I'm in pain. I am an addict in detox.

Yesterday I decided that I'm going to lead a healthy lifestyle. No kidding... I'm going to be healthy, even if my new habits leave me feeling like the puddle of mud I stepped in this morning. No more caffeine, no more sugar, and certainly no more french fries and chips.

Today I started my first official day in detox, and already I find myself lustfully eyeing the big bottle of Alleve sitting on the kitchen counter. I just want one pill (or seven) to get my head to stop this throbbing. ThRoBbInG.... Yuck.

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July 12, 2003

Missy, Mark, and soon-to-be Madison

Doing what you hate for people you love, doesn't it just make you feel good? No? Yeah, me neither. Anyway, today I fished out the only skirt I own from deep inside my closet, yanked on a pair of pantyhose, and made myself look girly for my friend Missy's baby shower. At the party we ate cake, opened presents, played games, and rubbed the big belly in hopes of feeling a kick (I didn't). Generally it was exactly what baby showers are supposed to be: friendly little gift-giving gatherings. Of course, this wasn't my kind of social event, but I was glad that Missy got all she wanted --toys, baby wipes, and infant clothes. I still can't believe my Missy is going to be a mommy. Holy cow.

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July 10, 2003

Baby did a bad, bad thing...

Most people who know me well will likely tell you that I'm cheap. Dirt cheap. I don't like to spend money on things I don't really need, frivoulous things that most of my friends have no problems hitting the credit for. The way I see it, most of the crap offered in today's trendy stores will probably lose its novelty in two and a half seconds, and ultimately end up in a seasonal garage sale with a 50 cent sticker on it. Not to mention the Visa bills that accompany such purchases. Just call me fiscally responsible.

Since graduating, though, things have changed. For some reason, I feel entitled to buying all the things that I could not afford while pocketing a minimum wage salary on campus. As soon as I got that diploma, I bought myself a new bedroom set (one that actually matches! Whoa!), some new clothes, and a bunch of random things that I've been eyeing the last few months (a new bonsai tree, a cute desk lamp from Target, and a plethora of CDs). The money I scored at my graduation party slipped away pretty quickly.

Monday, July 7th marked another major purchase, another dip in my baby-fresh savings account. After hitting the bank to deposit my latest paycheck, I drove down to Best Buy with every intention of finding an adequate computer printer (and no intention of spending more than $100). But as soon as I got to the printer aisle, my eyes starting wandering to all of the latest models of the ultra-fabulous photo-quality gadgets that could churn out true to life prints in less than a minute. Where my eyes wandered, my body followed. And I picked up a printer that only three months before I would have dismissed as a product for the stupid materialistic masses.

I bought the most expensive one in the store, the HP 7550. Without batting an eyelash, I handed over my Visa for this $300 contraption that only prints pretty pictures... no scanner, no copier, no built-in fax machine. And not only did I buy that thing, but all of the glossy photo papers and random acessories that Hewlett Packard assures me are absolutely necessary. My receipt says I paid about four-hundred dollars.

When I got home, I immediately set up and installed everything, and stayed up until 2 am printing out every damn jpeg I had on my hard drive. The prints are beautiful. True to life... they weren't kidding. I am very pleased with my purchase, this printer that my diploma has entitled me to buy. But now that my new HP 7550 is two days old, I'm finding that the novelty is already starting to wear off. Today I printed up some black and white documents for work, but no color photo copies... no true to life pictures. The $59 inkjet at the end of the printer aisle at Best Buy could probably do the same jobs that I've assigned to my new HP 7550.

Right now I'm sitting at my desk (right beside my brand-new $300 printer) wondering when the heck I joined the ranks of the stupid materialistic masses. I still like having a photo printer around (after all, I'm entitled to one) but I'm wondering why was this hunk of plastic so exciting, so important to me. Why did I have to have it? My fingers are crossed in hopes that I haven't gotten sucked into the same consumer culture that decimated the financial status of half of my friends. Perhaps I should keep those fingers crossed... maybe it will keep them from picking up another nightstand-sized box at Best Buy. Hmmph.

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July 05, 2003

Another pic of me & Fat Bastard!

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July 02, 2003

So this is what my life has come to

When I was a little girl, I was determined to save the world. I was confident that I could do it, and I started by forming a group called the S.O.C. (Save Our Country). I presided over the group's three other members, all of whom were classmates of mine that indulged my ambition for the sake of friendship. We met on the playground, kept a detailed log book, and spoke of massive letter-writing campaigns to President Bush (the other one) to get him to stop homicide and poverty for good. I was only nine years old, and I had the master plan that would fix all of the social problems that existed since the dawn of civilization.

The S.O.C. only lasted about a year. We wrote lots of letters, but none of them were actually mailed. My parents didn't feel like paying for all of the postage. The other groups members eventually began using our meeting times for discussing the coming school dance and New Kids on the Block, and after the last day of third grade we officially disbanded. All that poverty and violence stuff was a little too far removed from our daily lives to keep our attention so long. We had more important things going on.

A few years later one of the former S.O.C. members and I spoke about our defunct group, and laughed at our nine-year-old naivete. What the hell were we thinking anyway? What group of third-graders could possible change the world? When we were that young, we didn't recognize our limitations, lack of resources, or society's unwillingness to give prepubescent Catholic school girls the time of day. And the problems of the world, they weren't permanent or unchangeable... all we had to do was care, and BOOM --problems solved. It was just that easy.

Now that I'm older, the sobering reality of the world's social problems has allowed me to see that my childhood efforts at global salvation were at best sincere, yet laughable. I know better now... some letters to the guy sitting pretty in the White House ain't gonna do a damn thing at all. I don't even bother with that kind of stuff anymore. But even now, I sometimes wonder whether I was better off as an ambitious-yet-ineffective child crusader than the wiser-yet-apathetic adult I am today. If only I could take my long-lost passion for change and scramble it around with my adult knowldege and resources... how many people out there could I help right now? A how the heck did I get here, anyway?

Anyone?

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