Gasoline bipeds thumping the street, palms flexed, working hands gripping and releasing. The DMV is the common denominator of America, an intestinal thoroughfare filing out long, earthy lines of apes just slow enough for us to pick out our favorite stereotypes and enjoy. Toward the back are lesioned cysts of cubicles, showcasing children and holiday cards in desperate shrines.

It was gorgeous day in an unholy place.

My car and I were in a similar line/queue outside. I was ready to earn my driver's license by anal tenacity alone. First, though, I waited under this open-air concrete tunnel for an examiner to come. Some calm bit of idolatry perspired from my mouth, snuffed back in like smoke candy. I lazily eyed a giant cock slumped on against a side wall--wiry gray pubic hair on top--a shorter obese tallywhacker dangerously hanging close while they both squirted out words. Under different circumstances, I'd have harvested the shorter one--made some dinner, a xylophone and enough lamp oil for 3 weeks. Minutes passed like kidney stones. The head to head spouting went indoors, while a heavy-set Puerto-Rican woman in her 30's came out, examiner's board in hand. Giant Cock rushed back and protested that the (plant) clipping of his loins was first to be tested! Well the woman didn't take kindly to talking cocks and smacked him right down, Civil Service style. We drove off around them.

Yes, I was too slow; yes, I turned too wide on rights; yes, I didn't look in all three mirrors every five seconds to see if the Lexus or beat-up Chevy had changed lanes. Even so, yes, I passed. I could finally drive a motor vehicle and endanger the lives of thousands.

Mom and I didn't do much to celebrate except drag all of our crap back over to her boyfriend Scott's place. I talked to Char and other people for awhile, read and slept soundly.

(Wednesday)

Well gosh golly goddamn but that sleep was achy. I thought my body would keep pissing me off all day. After our usual tradition of Extreme Sausage sandwiches at Jack in the Box, though, I was good for another volunteer day at Mt. University.

So, exciting highlights of the work day (seeing as how half of it was spent sitting around):

*I handled a sample of ebola virus and mixed it with sodium chloride (saline) to make this shit called Endotoxin. Sure, the ebola was stone dead, but I still had to wear a face mask, gloves, goggles and a buttoned down lab coat. According to Dr. Zivago, even a little accidental exposure would make you "sicker than shit!" I handled the stuff accordingly.

*I also injected 3 albino rats as part of the experiment we're doing now. My technique with the last two critters actually worked out fairly well. L, Dr. Zivago's only grad. student, did the other 3. So, why are we injecting rats with dead ebola strains? Basically we're trying to activate the immune systems of these rats; to do that, you have to get the critters sick with a pathogen (e.g. Endotoxin). When a rat's immune system is activated, its body reacts by causing the rat to experience 'Depression'. It's an interesting thought: being sick and being depressed have the same types of symptoms, possibly with the same trigger. There are a few other theories we're researching, but I'll get to those later.

*(If you hate technical computer stuff, skip this one) I listened to Dr. Zivago and this veteran tech. support hardware guy talk shop. The issue at hand was simple: counting how often a byte of data switches--between 0 and 1--over 8 bytes. It's tricky that we have to do this in real-time, but it's really a simple concept. Unfortunately, using a normal PCI card won't work without having ASS OLD drivers that could interact with Dr. Zivago's Commodore 64. They figured out another method I won't go into detail here.

After going through all that stuff, I learned from Dr. Zivago that I need to get certification for handling animals. It came as a teeny tiny shock to me, but apparently it's illegal to inject or perform surgery on animals without the proper credentials. It seems..useful but silly to take a "surgery preparation" lab and take a test on animal rights. Even so, I need to take care of this stuff so I can get to my own research. L is usually busy most of the day and I can't tailor my work around her schedule.

In general, I'm starting to feel good about this lab business. Maybe I can still hack it as a scientist.

previous - next