And you thought my ass'd take another week. Well so did I.

What would this journal be without a disconnected sense of time? But I figure jumping to the present for a post isn't asking for a pint of blood--under most circumstances, anyway.

I've been surprisingly happy most days and hours since I came back. Partly that's because there's been a decent amount of down-time at the lab. I've still been working on cleaning up the '97 survey data, analyzing the mother-infant observations, trying to crunch the peer group data, and occasionally inching the current project forward by doing another test or two. The down-time mainly comes from everyone else being too busy with the flu study, or the fact that our head carestaff guy retired, a senior research assistant quit, two caretakers have been on extended sick leave, and a third has been out because his wife had their child. Crazy, crazy shit for them. Only mild inconvenience at scheduling people for me.

So I've been getting in there most days at 10:30, 11:00. Hell I got in at 11:14 today, dropped off my laptop, went to the Hong Kong Cafe (like I do every other day), and lo and behold Birdie/Post-Doc was there. We talked about her being pregnant, my current happenings, if I'd found any non-psychotic women to date, any crushes, work, etc. Now I don't feel awkward about pregnancy or family stuff itself. It's life. My personal and peripheral experience is small, though. I'm just now at that age range where about 1/3 of old and new time friends are getting hitched. So I'm not exactly sure what to do to perpetuate talk of fetuses, but I tried. Birdie is mellow about the whole thing, partly on personality and for other reasons.

Ended up being that I ran some ideas past her for selling my survey data. Considering these supposedly identical studies were done in '91 and '97 and that they don't use some of the same measures (which is not identical nor a good thing in science), she thought my sales pitch was pretty good. I'll see how it pans out. That and I still have to analyze the '97 survey set.

I'm happy also because this current project is a little more than half-way done. It couldn't happen soon enough as far as I'm concerned. The ideal end date had been early March. However Chris has repeatedly suggested I do a test we'd done on a previous study--"if you have the patience for it." I could choose not to, but I know he wants to do it and I know I'm expected to, of course, be that patient. I'm still thinking of ways to make it less of a pain in the ass than to add on 15 extra days of experiment whatnot. I love the data itself, but the collection process has smoked more pole than a nymphomaniacal lust god with 24 hours to live.

This has been a...big project. For a given subject, we've had a test a month from 6 months of age to 11 months, with the additional one I mentioned also planned. There'd been the neonatal assessment and the immune/behavior assessments during infancy too. I can't go into detail for obvious reasons, but let's just say I had to schedule and do Activity Y for group X while in the same week doing Activity A for group Z and even sometimes Activity G for group Q.

You might understand my frustration (read: barely contained rage) when my advisor suggested this'd all fit into one paper. The paper I just got published (which people keep congratulating me on as if it were a big deal) was a 35 page manuscript based on a study half this size. If I'd have known he wanted to cram all the current findings into one article, I would've cut out half of what we did. Brian did make the suggestion that maybe he's thinking of a supremely top tier journal and to keep the behavior, physiology, immune, and brain data and their interactions together. I'm thinking quantity and quality over just quality is what's gonna get me a post-doctoral research position after all this. I'm thinking someone hasn't tried selling what's between their ears and legs to disinterested corporations or candidate-rich labs for a long time.

But I'm mostly thinking whatever the fuck happens happens. I could do escort work again. Same process, different parts.

My kung-fu drama action grip is acting up again. Rather than raining neuroticism and pig's blood on my world, everything lab-wise has been easy to manage. Not sure how that'll stand up when my one class starts. Not looking forward to said class. It's neuroanatomy. I loved neuroanatomy as an undergrad. Favorite course, really, so I'll be on much firmer footing than the crazy shit I went through to master molecular and cellular neuroscience last semester. But a 4 credit course is a 4 credit course. Really I could do with more of this playing Fable on the X-Box (my newest time sink), writing for the project, trying to order prints to organize photo shows (because Grad School Lisa is adamant and vocal about me getting out there), and socializing. It's like I have a life after I get home from work.

But I'll get through it. Might even like it. I'm mentally sadomasochistic in a healthy way like that.

BadgerBadgerBadger.com

And because I feel like a dork:

I am technically an adult. I can't write "I'm an adult" and mean it. The idea is patently absurd.

I remember growing up and occasionally watching shows, commercials, movies, even words on pages talk about adults losing touch with their 'inner child'. I would wonder about the secret world of adults and why some of the stupid shit they did made no sense. (Being that I was surrounded by rock musicians when I was growing up, I kinda see why now).

But somehow I missed the train to real adulthood.

I work full-time, pay rent, pay bills, deal with people I'd otherwise like to see thrown under a bus or struck mute by the hand of God, and semi-frequently commit various convenient B and C class misdemeanors. I do adult things.

So while my Mom and Gran are adults and my advisor is, I more or less feel like a grown-up child. Perhaps I magically turn into a real adult when I fuck someone and out comes spawn, but I can't say. It'll have to remain one of those continuing mysteries.

I'm just happy I never stopped liking Gargoyles. Damn I love/d that show.

But O' My Brothers (and Sisters), I've been a touch neglectful with social stuff.

The biggest development/surprise was Hillary getting back in contact with me. We've been exchanging e-mails back and forth for a couple months now. I'd originally put the nix on doing anything in person, partly because she's one of the first people I've tried re-trusting and I wanted to re-start things slow; otherwise partly because I didn't want to get hurt again. But I've enjoyed the exchanges and her intentions seem good, so I've occasionally tossed out this or that thing to go see or do. The interaction is different from how it used to be; that's a neutral 'different'. She might be around a party Dan and Katie are throwing tomorrow.

Caesha sent me a wedding photo that someone'd taken of Daniel, her, and myself all done up. Their wedding clothes were all in white, which suited them perfectly. I almost followed likewise by being in black, but the tie should've been sanguine, not cerulean. We looked fabulous. She (and I) was/were supremely happy the photo turned out so well. She signed the e-mail "BFF!"

I mean awwww. Just aww.

This past weekend Mari came over to visit. We watched Gone with the Wind after she'd rested some. All this time I thought I'd be bored to tears. I absolutely loved every minute of it. What a hell of a film. I took her out to thai, Noodles, and over to El Pastor for eats from friday afternoon to sunday. We walked around the main shopping street and to the main union on saturday. I had to keep my pace slower than I was used to, but I got used to it. She also introduced me to VideoJug.com. It's a site dedicated to giving you step-by-step instructions on all aspects of life. It makes sense of nonsense. We also talked here and there about my life, her hot aussie boyfriend, or with Brian about an episode I haven't related to y'all yet; one of my juicier tales of me lacking a sense of self-preservation. It involves a complete stranger with schizo-affective disorder. You'll be amused, but I'll save it for later.

Mari is the sort of friend I know I can always rely on and who consistently looks out for me. She's one of those few who is perceptive enough to see through my well-meaning deceptions about how 'with it' I come across as.

What else.

Oh.

I'd been getting to a point where I wasn't thinking about Tasha every day. But then I somehow slid back into it over break. I've been getting better since then. I'm sure and not sure I know why it's been more difficult than most with throwing her onto the 'bad ex' pile. On the one hand she was always sweet and encouraging to me, which most definetely does not describe most of the charnal harpies I've courted. And as a first she wanted to share my life here. On the other hand, I knew she was flighty; not necessarily disappearing without a trace and no current address flighty, but still. I think about it not as being a victim but just having the misfortune of loving an inconsiderate and thoughtless person. And I can laugh about it now.

And as a quick run-down because I'm tired:

*Got back in contact with J, which has been good.

*Still talking with Sarah regularly; that's always fun.

*I cleaned my AIM and Yahoo box of leech people and blocked them. That was good AND fun.