Friday, November 30, 2007

See? SEE?

What did I tell you?

"Also, I lack the expertise to change it, as my facade of using lengthy technical terms very quickly while nodding authoritatively has still failed to confer upon me actual knowledge about even the simplest coding."

But nyoooooooo---I had to try and change it ANYWAY (spurred on, no doubt, by some *commenters* AND I BROKEDED IT.

Then I fixed it. There will be no more futzing with it until after finals.

That's all.

(and if you comment about it I will go Miranda Priestly on your ass. Try me.)

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Spiffy fact:

Ants cannot climb up "Shiny" Mac laptop displays. They try, but they fall back down.

How I know this is not so spiffy.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Sweet fancy Moses on buttered toast

When I changed the template (hold the snark plz ktxbai) I FORGOT. To add. The SiteMeter.

PEOPLE HAVE VISITED MY BLOG AND I DON'T KNOW ABOUT IT.

I'm going to have to lie down now.

/stalkers do not like to be thwarted
//yes, I once cracked an alumni database to retrieve a 10th grade teacher's zip code, is there something wrong with that?

Notes

There is nothing wrong with comments. Sometimes, I just like to disable them...because I can.

The theme is white. I like it that way. Also, I lack the expertise to change it, as my facade of using lengthy technical terms very quickly while nodding authoritatively has still failed to confer upon me actual knowledge about even the simplest coding.

And...you know when you link to a really funny comic, but then keep reading and discover that you should have linked using a different comic, because this one is better? Yeah, I hate that.

I worship random people

So. Fucking. True. With nerd jokes.

Galileo said it better

Safe Food
Ice cream
Grilled cheese
Potato chips
Smoothies

Dangerous Food

Peanut butter
Candy bars
Chocolate
Bread

Curiously, if bread is consumed WITH any of the other three, both are neutralized.

Sometime, after I have taken Biochemistry and Physiology, I will be able to tell you why.

Another time, after I have sorted out my brain and forgotten the Biochemistry and Physiology, I will be able to tell you the reason why.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

I rule at the internet

Iiiiiiiiii just paid $249.92 for a Wii. WIIIIIIIIIIIIIN. Hi, suckers on Ebay who just paid $500.00.

Ok, so technically I didn't pay for it. My parents paid for it. It's for my brother, for Christmas. I "nicely" agreed to "help" them find it. I'm so thoughtful like that. It's "for my brother." It's totally also for me.

/so it's marketed to children....so?

Friday, November 23, 2007

This is a conspiracy

to make me go insane and it is working because Physics. Is. Everywhere. INCLUDING THE WEBSITES THAT I AM TRYING TO USE TO PROCRASTINATE.

/at least when I shoot myself, I can calculate the requisite initial velocity of the bullet

Why I should so be allowed to bitch-slap people

*studiously avoiding making this person too identifiable*

Which is really no great challenge BECAUSE THEY ARE ALL THE SAME ANYWAY. Pre. Med. Men.

Think of every single good-looking, confident, white bread, upper-class ASSHOLE doctor on a bad daytime drama. Some stereotypes are based in fact.

Anyway, sometimes, you major in Political Science, to get away from them. Which is a huge shock, because sometimes, you, when you take Political Science, you have professors who are actually human beings instead of vengeful, brooding automatons that HATCHED in a CAVE somewhere and awoke to fulfill their lifelong missions of MAKING PEOPLE MISERABLE. Plus, if you study really hard for an international relations class, and do all the reading, and make a scarily-obessive-compulsive study guide....you actually DO WELL on the test. I know, right?

Sadly, sometimes the GODDAMN PRE-MED-MALES figure this out and ALSO take political science. And then you have amazing conversations like this:

[Background: My IR prof is totally kickass, has an actual sense of humor, and, unlike many of her colleagues, writes CLEAR and SUCCINCT papers. (Alexander Wendt, I'm looking at you.) She also happens to be married to another professor in the department. Which, as I have mentioned, is really not that uncommon around here in the boonies.]

Anyway. The scene: Walking out of class. The protagonist: yours truly. The antagonist: Duh. Italics are sarcastic comments that were only said in my head. I hope.

Mr. About To Be Kicked In A Sensitive Area: "I don't know, I'm just not overly impressed with her research. Because I'm such an established scholar in the field, of course, and I'm drawing on the esteemed wisdom that comes with my NINETEEN years of age. It's sort of irrelevant and subjective--you could easily reinterpret the data and come to a different conclusion. This never happens in scholarly research. At all."

Your Fearless Blogger: "Well, I thought that maybe the stuff about *A very unspecified country* seemed cred-"

Mr. About To Be Kicked In A Sensitive Area: "I'm cutting you off because I was too busy admiring my reflection in that window to realize that you were talking, and you know she was only appointed because her husband has tenure?"

Your Fearless Blogger: "Are you INVITING me to kick your ass? Oh come ON, that rumor circulates about half the female professors...would you say that if the genders were reversed?"

Mr. About To Be Kicked In A Sensitive Area: "You know, probably not. That's just how I think. And I am now, in the Ultimate Asshole Move, admitting that I am an asshole. And being proud of it. Shame on me, right? *Smiles, thinks he's hotter than he actually is*

Your Fearless Blogger: "Oh, I have to print something so let me head for the library before I fly to California and steal a certain person's Awesome Hulk Hands Of Power.



Can I borrow the Hulk Hands? He really, really , needs to be Smashed.

Well, it's not good, but it's a reason

After extensive self-analysis, I have determined why I ammaybewas pre-med:

1. My 11th grade math teacher told me to.



And that is it. I couldn't come up with anything else. I could have added some half-hearted funny examples of other ridiculously things that said math teacher could have told me to do, but honestly, I can't.

I considered adding "Because Kate Walsh once played a character who had awesome shoes," but honestly, that was later. Plus, with the way malpractice insurance is going, the doctors probably can't even afford the shoes anymore. Which is lame, because all emergency surgeries should be performed by someone wearing in Manolos. Obvi.

(Bonus points if you can identify the movie quoted in the title.)

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Breaking the fourth wall

There is about to be a massive post influx. See, I like to hold the posts before I publish them. While this is ostensibly so I can go back and edit them, it's actually so I can forget about them, but never fear, I did find them.

Also...who the HELL is from the "State of Connecticut Department of Information Technology?" Out yourself.

Monday, November 19, 2007

So I can't sleep

Probably because I slept until 3pm. Just a hunch.

So I'm going through old email, and it appears that I actually *sent* this to a high school teacher:

Hi. Yes, it's rather late (or early, depending on one's perspective) to be starting one's English homework. Naturally, being me, I've just discovered one of the detriments to operating on such a schedule: if one has, say, misplaced one's copy of Sound and Sense (with the assignment sheet), then one really has little recourse at this hour. Ok, I have to stop saying "one." It's pretentious.

So, I'm emailing you to...explain the situation I suppose, and apologize (again) for my...um....erratic? handing-in of assignments lately. As you may have picked up on, I tend to freak out for indeterminate periods and this is one of them and I know that it's not an excuse and again I apologize. (and basically I'm never going to college, yay)

I will make my best attempt to locate my book and complete the assignment by class tomorrow. Today. Whichever.

---Caffeine has really had quite enough coffee

How was I NOT kicked out of school?

Epic. Fail.

So, last night I attended an amazing party. It was a classy, formal business dinner for *name of prestigious student newspaper redacted*, at which the new directorate was announced and several awards were given (*avoiding self call, shut it, it's my blog*). Oh, and alcohol was consumed.

Naturally, my parents call me in the middle of this. I spoke to The Father, not The Mother, small favors. Sadly, my tolerance is still very low, and the giggly levels are really unacceptably high. Slightly busted.

The cover story for today:
Oh yes, we had a lovely sit-down dinner, and everyone had a glass of champagne to toast the new directorate.

What I seem to recall transpired:

Open bar. I grossly overpour a rum and coke.

Due to a miscommunication / diabolical plot, there is...no food. Lovely. Wheeeeeeee!

There is actually champagne. Lots and lots of champagne. It's like bubbly juice that sprays everywhere.

There is an after party. There is another open bar.

Did you know that peach schnapps mixed with tonic water tastes exactly like orange soda?

I mix another to confirm that it actually does taste like orange soda. It still does.

There is a Harry Potter party next-door.

They have "Butterbeer." I don't know what the hell it was, but it tasted like liquid candy. All of it. Also, I got sorted into Slytherin. Bastards.

We go back to the afterparty. There is something involving pineapple juice.

There are drunken editors who are interested in "cuddling." With everyone.

There are drunken freshmen who are attempting to hook up with the editors. Both parties involved are straight females. There is running away. There is intense laughter.

There is me in 3.5 inch high heels. There is ankle pain.

There is grilled cheese.

There is sleep. There is 8 gallons of water and asprin. There is more sleep.

And then there are blog posts that ensure no one will ever hire me. Woooo!

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Grover = AMAZING

I am currently appreciating Sesame Street on a whole new level:

Experience your daily dose of lovable blue monster-ness here.

I think this is where I rant about how Sesame Street has gone completely to hell, because seriously? Cookies are a sometimes food? ELMO'S WORLD? In my day...

/Get off my lawn, you damn kids!

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Plz to make room stop shaking now ktxbai

Hai look iz me!

Inane question

"Hey, Caffeinegirl, what happened to that huge bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans?"

...

Have you MET me?

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

You aren't Meredith and neither am I

You want to be Meredith? Of course. She's the TV heroine, pretty, cute boyfriend, but her life isn't perfect, too dark and twisty.

And you, you who suffered real and true challenge, of course you identify with Meredith. The character was designed for you to reach that conclusion and that's why the advertisers pay big bucks.

But listen. Any kind of cred you get for your life sucking? You probably have more than Meredith. You are the girls who had nothing and stared life in the face and fought and are on the way to end up with something.

Meredith is the girl who you should hate. Meredith never worried about money. Meredith is white, classically pretty, Ivy-League rich girl. Meredith has parents who gave her advantages.

And somehow, Meredith is the girl who started out with "everything" and has no right or claim to suffer...but somehow ended up with nothing.

I've seen real life Meredith.

Beautiful, skinny, lettuce for dinner, an hour at the gym for each leaf, a scar on her arm from a mirror she broke years ago.

Good grades, but grades that aren't for her and will never be good enough.

She'll do well. Med school. Like her mother.

Still not good enough.

A surgeon. The most noble of professions, she can pick up a scalpel and save a life. Who can argue with that?

Not good enough.

Hundred hour work weeks, blood on her hands, strangers she won't remember in her bed. She gets a fellowship. So what?

She'll marry. She'll be beautiful. Maybe he'll be McDreamy. Real-life Bradgelina.

Maybe they'll divorce. Maybe not. They'll have children, you're supposed to. Also beautiful. Also smart.

But she won't be there. Not because she's selfish. Not because she cares more about her career, but because she can't. How can you be a mother if secretly you are still the child, crying out for Mommy who never came home, told you that she loved you yes, but never told you that it was okay to not be perfect.

So the cycle begins anew and stupid procrastinating teenage bloggers can dryly remark on the irony of the situation, how people who spend their time saving lives destroy their own.

And they want to take real-life Meredith away, fix this girl whose parents broke her and make her cry. Merediths, as you may not know, don't cry.

It would mar their mascara.


Disclaimer: I haven't slept in 36 hours.
This doesn't make any sense.
I'm not talking to anyone specifically.
Meredith is a fictional character and despite her name, so is real life Meredith.
I have 700 pages of reading due in nine hours.

Monday, November 05, 2007

If I blew up the biology building right now

could I pass it off as some kind of wacko V for Vendetta inspired political statement thing?

No?

Damn.

Artists use lies to tell the truth, politicians use lies to cover the truth up, and biologists cloak their lies in statistics and cryptic terms to pass them off as scientific fact.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

If g = 9.8, G = 6.67E-11

In terms of the whole gravity situation: let's imagine me desperately clutching the tip of the South Pole. Back on the Earth but JUST BARELY.

(Nerd sidebar: I chose South Pole for the visually imagery because it's the "bottom" but let's all pretend we're smart and know that since acceleration due to gravity is towards the CENTER of the earth, it could just as easily be the North Pole. Or an island in the south Pacific. Actually, let's go with the island.)

Anyway, being on the Earth means I HAVE A BIOLOGY TEST. Fuck. And unfortunately, my Biology Professor Formerly Known As Awesome is really emphasizing the "Formerly" part. He is THIIIIIIS close to getting a nickname like "Biology Professor Who I Hate With The Seething, Burning, White-Hot Intensity That Up Until This Point Has Been Reserved Only For People Who Teach English." (No, not you, duh. Hi.)

Fortunately for him, his one redeeming quality is still going strong. Despite his habit of asking questions on the test that were not covered in lecture or the textbook, despite his insistence on explaining an A-B-C sequence by only talking about A and C, and despite his choice to hold EVERY DAMN "OPTIONAL" x-hour at 8:30 in the morning, he is still good for quotes like this:

"Histones don't completely prevent digenstion of DNA by nucleases, but they do retard it significantly. It's kind of like forcing someone to eat a ham sandwich while squished up against their car--they can do it, just not very efficiently. Also, mustard will totally ruin your paint job. Note use of italics on 'totally.' Hmm, maybe I should have italicized 'significantly' also."

This is all that is standing between him and CAFFEINE GIRL'S ONE THOUSAND YEARS OF (non-violent) PAAAAAAAIIIIIIN. And believe me, if it happens, you'll read about it in the newspaper. Pretend you don't know me.

Friday, November 02, 2007

g = G(Me/Re^2)

falling. off. planet. Newton. has. no. fucking. clue.

/be with you momentarily