Screw Jennifer Wilbanks.

No, I mean it. Jennifer Wilbanks is a waste of resources. This is, as you may know, the woman who disappeared from her home days before her wedding, put her family through hell, wasted thousands upon thousands of dollars of search and rescue resources, made her fiance a suspect in her murder, lied about being abducted by Hispanic people, and then stated that she just got "cold feet" and needed time alone.

Now, I'm not sure what this woman's deal is. Maybe she just really was nervous about getting married. That seems legit, especially given the monstrosity that her wedding was going to be (600 guests, 30-odd people in the wedding party). Or maybe she has some sort of psychological disorder causing her to need attention beyond what she was receiving. Or who knows what. But the bottom line is: Get off my TV. Seriously.

While this woman is having a nationwide canniption, there is actual news going on. And even tonight, after she's been "found", the networks have to capture her every move. Now, had she actually been abducted or somesuch, national media attention would have been helpful and warranted. But she was faking it the whole time! And people are still watching this tripe? Honestly.

And another thing. When LaKiesha from the ghetto goes missing, no one gives a rip. But when a wealthy white woman disappears, everyone drops everything to find her. It's pretty disgusting. The same people oo-ing and ahh-ing over Ms. Wilbanks are the same people that think we shouldn't have bothered looking for Margarita Aguilar-Lopez. Because she's an illegal, ya see. Never mind that she's twelve. Ugh. People in this country, sometimes.

This was not unexpected.

So it's the last week of classes, which means, of course, that I'm a bit stressed out. Stressed out as in: I've been subsisting almost entirely on toast. As in: I wish I hadn't put off doing my physiology lab notebook til three days before it was due. As in: It has been taking me forever to fall asleep and when I finally do, it's not very restful anyway.

It's not all terrible though. I started going to yoga last Thursday, and it's my new favorite pastime. Other newish obsessions include: Gregorian chant, Lipton Cold-Brew Iced Tea, Firefox extensions, and my new chem shirt that says "We (Heart) Chemistry" on the front and "Please don't beat me up" on the back, and also features Dr. Starn's drawing of n-propyl-people-ether. I like all the neat doodads that can be added to Firefox. I've got one that tells me the weather. By the way, Firefox is quite possibly the best browser ever, so if you're still using that IE crap-for-crap, I suggest you check it out. The Lipton tea thing mostly has come about because I'm too lazy to make a full pitcher of real tea and put it in the fridge, although admittedly the cold-brew teabags are significantly less efficient than the usual stuff.

I am going to see Ani Difranco tonight. I am very much looking forward to going but that still doesn't solve the problem of my lab notebook. Sigh.

Sticking it to the Man yet again.

Per Rachel's suggestion, I went to this page, which provides tests you can take to disover your own hidden biases toward various populations. I found the entire thing to be fairly eye-opening, as well as really interesting from a psychological-testing point of view (I know, I'm a nerd).

Tolerance.org is also an extremely cool website. The information on their is useful and intriguing. For example, you can check out the local hate groups. Scary, no? And for us college types, they have ways to fight hate on campus.

Stick it to the Man, friends. Keep working on promoting peace in the world.

PS- How can I neglect to mention what today is??? It's Earth Day, suckas (in the words of Kira). Not only that, but it's the 35th anniversary of Earth Day. So why are you still here, reading this, wasting electrons? Go plant a tree or something!

Where do these people come from?

Who are these people that have the time to lay out on the quad, sunning themselves? Who are these testosterone-overdosed guys, these skanky, skinny girls? Where do they come from? And do they never study?

I've been noticing these people for the past few weeks as I slaved away in phys lab. From the lofty heights of the 3rd floor of the science building, I can see these people out on the residential quad. They laying on blankets, playing football, volleyball, lacrosse. What sort of major do these people have that they can afford to spend so much time outside? I am always inside, chopping up baby rats or mixing together some lovely neurotoxins. I am working on lab reports or reading textbooks or going over notes. What do these people do? Do they even go to class?

I consider myself quite a slacker, but these folks are unreal! I'm not saying that I am constantly doing tons of work, because I'm not. I do a moderate amount; I do what I need to to get by. But spending the afternoon catching rays on the quad? Unlikely.

It must be nice.

Zen and the Art of Catholicism

My new favorite thing to do is to sit outside on my porch and read books. It's a good, peaceful thing to do, especially when the weather is as lovely as it has been. Sometimes I bring some tea along. Among other things, I've discovered that my neighbors aren't all scary, obnoxious, and drunken college students. In fact, some of them seem quite nice.

Currently, I'm reading a book called Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life with the Heart of a Buddha (Brach, 2003). I've gotten several reactions to my reading of this book, most of them along the lines of "You're the weirdest person I know" or "Where do you find these books???" I find it amusing how the concepts in this book (and other Buddhist-inspired writings) have so much in common with DBT. I found DBT to be alternately annoying and sacrosanct: it was the bane of my existence or my salvation. In any case, I am endlessly intrigued that the practices of DBT are quite Buddhist in origin. Things like mindfulness and indeed even radical acceptance itself are key DBT buzzwords as well as central Buddhist teachings.

The point of reading all these books is not only because they're interesting, but also so I can figure out a way to incorporate such Buddhist ideas and practices into my life. Of course they would be beneficial to my daily life in general, but if I could incorporate them into my prayer life, the results could be quite sublime. The teachings of Christ and Buddha overlap in numerous places. Buddha teaches that we must abandon the concept of "self", since we are all part of a single entity and are all interconnected. Jesus teaches that we must love our neighbor as ourselves. If our "selves" are more permeable than we envision, then it makes a great deal of sense to treat our neighbors with the same love and respect we should show ourselves. Perhaps saying that we all have a Buddha nature is the same concept as saying we are all children of God.

So I suppose I will continue to read weird books. Now if I'd only read my school books once in a while...

Extra caffeine, please.

"She only drinks coffee at midnight
When the moment is not right
Her timing is quite
Unusual
-Train, Meet Virginia

I love coffee. Looooooooove coffee. I drink coffee at almost every opportunity that arises. I drink coffee in the morning, of course. And sometimes I drink coffee at night because we're at the diner or Starbucks. I drink coffee at night and then complain when I can't sleep. But it doesn't matter. It's worth it.

I like coffee because it's warm. I like the bitterness staved off with skim milk and two packets of fake sugar. I like coffee in the winter and I like coffee in the summer.

I like to drink coffee when everything is going wrong. For example, my chemistry research is a mess. I often have afternoons where absolutely nothing goes right: my gels won't polymerize, one sample contaminates the others, I can't get a current to run through the damn gel once it's set to go. When this happens, I figuratively throw up my hands and run downstairs to the lunch trucks for a cup of coffee. Usually hazelnut, as it were.

And then there was yesterday. I did possibly the dumbest thing ever. I locked my keys in my car. Ok, it happens. But oh, it gets worse. I locked my keys in my car. With the car still running. It takes a true genius to do something like that. The situation ended up not being such a big deal, but of course I ended up hyperventilating and whatnot until it was resolved. Once I was driving away, my knees feeling shaky and my stomach feeling fluttery as I came down from the adrenaline rush, I thought to myself: I could use a good cup of coffee right about now.

Last summer, when they were trying to get me to stop being anorexic, they said I had to stop drinking so much coffee. This was actually part of my treatment plan. If I would just cut down my coffee consumption to one cup a day, I'd be much better. Nevermind dealing with the abusive ex. Nevermind the fact that I wouldn't eat more scrambled eggs and cottage cheese. The problem was the coffee. I have dealt with my issues now, and I eat lots of things, but I drink more coffee than ever. I happen to think it's beneficial to my mental health.

Stick it to the Man: Ride a bike

I'm sticking it to the Man, friends. I'm tired of gas prices lately. I'm tired of never being able to find a parking spot in West Chester. So when I was home yesterday, I got my good old bike and brought it back to my humble apartment in the Dub-C.

My bike is a Trek 4500. It's black, silver, and yellow. And it's just super. Today, when I went into town, my first stop was America's Cup, which is a coffee shop in the basement of a building on Market Street. I had a cup of hazelnut coffee and a muffin, and it was the best breakfast ever! The woman working there was very friendly, and the coffee was the best I've had in a long time (yes, even better than Starbucks). I then went to the Eckerd to fill a prescription (evidently I've got eczema?) I also had to buy nail polish; it's a compulsion.

So anyway. Get yourself a bike. Ride it around town. Stick it to the Man.

Where's George?

I stumbled upon this page. It basically allows you to track where your dollar bills end up. This could be interesting, in a six degrees of separation kind of way. We shall see.

Nail polish.

I love nail polish. I didn't always, though. I don't love it because I have fabulous nails. I don't have nice, pretty nails at all. I don't love it for the smell or the long time it takes to dry. But oh, I love nail polish.

I started collecting nail polish last summer. I needed something mindless to do. Painting my nails became a soothing ritual. First, I'd remove the old stuff: Left toes, right toes. Left fingers, right fingers. Then I'd pick out a new color. I would dump the bag of nail polish bottles onto the floor and spread out all those colors, sorting through until I found the one I felt most attracted to at that particular moment. Then I'd paint it on. Left toes, right toes. Left fingers, right fingers. Once the first layer was on, I needed to wait for it to dry, so I'd lay down on my ugly carpet and wait. If it was daytime, I'd sort of stare at the sunlight streaming into my apartment and think about the state of my life (which, as of last summer, was somewhat hideous). If it was evening, I'd usually have the tv on. CourtTV, most likely, as that's about the only thing I watch. After a little while, I'd get to the next layer. Left toes, right toes. Left fingers, right fingers. And finally, when I was satisfied that I had enough polish on, I'd go about the rest of my business (which, as of last summer, was probably counting exchanges).

I became slightly obsessed with changing the color of my nail polish almost daily. Sometimes, I'd have on nice, subtle colors. Peachy pinks. Non-offensive. But more often than not (and this is still the case), I chose bright, ridiculous colors. Deep blue. Barbie pink. Lime green with sparkles. I just pick the colors I am attracted to. It's art therapy you can wear. Today, that color happens to be a nice, bright blue-green. It reminds me a bit of the color of a mallard duck's head. At CCDthis afternoon, one of my students told me that she liked that I was wearing such a bright color of nail polish. It was cool, she insisted. It distinguished me from "those boring, old people". I'm glad to see I'm still hip with the 9-year-old set.

So for now, the bright green polish stays. Who knows what it will be tomorrow.

Hey! Gimme my hour back.

I'm not really sure what's up with this whole daylight savings time deal, but I was a much bigger fan of Eastern Standard Time. I was sleeping peacefully last night, when all of a sudden the time gnomes came and stole one of my hours.

This ruins so much for me. For example, tomorrow I have to wake up for my 8am class. This is quite a horrible ordeal to begin with, and now I have to be there at what feels even earlier! This cannot be good for one's health. In fact, it's not. People have done studies. There is nothing good about this whatsoever.

According to John J. Miller of the National Review, "The reason we have Daylight Saving Time (DST), of course, is because the politicians have mandated it. Washington is much better at wasting things than saving them, but federal lawmakers nevertheless spent much of the 20th century insisting, with typical modesty, that they could "save daylight." (Why couldn't they instead have tried to save Social Security?)" Good point.

So daylight savings time sucks. But at the very least, I can consider it a harbinger of summer, the end of the semester, and maybe, just maybe a chance to relax and catch up on some sleep.

Popewatch

Status: Deceased

: (

Popewatch

Well, it appears that the Pope is in fact peacing out. Although for a while last night, it was hard to get a straight answer on his condition. First he was alive, then dead, then alive again. So confusing. Current status check: alive.

I'm a fan of this pope. First of all, nobody even thought he would be pope. But I think it was the influence of the Holy Spirit that allowed him to be voted in. Clearly, he had a major positive influence on the world during his reign. I mean, come on now: He helped bring about the fall of Communism. He laid the smackdown on President Bush over the Iraq war. And to the guy who shot him: Don't worry, man, it's cool. I ask you, my friends, who does that??? Not to mention the fact that the Pope visited just about every single place on Earth. Apologized to the Jews. Supported the cause of Palestinian statehood. Brought attention the poor and marginalized people of the world. Defended life (babies, criminals, and vegetables!).

I mean, sure, there are issues on which I disagreed with the Pope. However, I feel that overall he is a really good guy, and I wouldn't have minded at all if he hung around for a while longer. God knows who the next pope will be...

(Status Check: alive)