What's in a (last) name?

The other day N.A. and I were talking about a former colleague. I commented that I was surprised that she had taken her husband's last name, especially well into her career (just prior to tenure).

"Why would she take his name?" N.A. asked. "She's not proud."

Oh.

Wait a minute.

"So if she kept her name, that would make her proud?" I was confused, especially since we've already talked about my choice to keep my name if/when we get married. (In fact, I posted about it here... the comments are worth a second look, in my opinion.)

"Well, why do you want to keep your name?"

"I like my last name better," I replied, even though he already knew this.

"Well there you go," he answered.

Well, shit. Does staying Dr. Reaction make me conceited?

...or maybe the better question is, if that's true, do I even care?

What would be your last meal?

That's what N.A. asked me on a recent car ride.

For once, I was speechless.

I couldn't come up with a favorite entree. For a starter, I like a garden salad with thicky, chunky blue cheese dressing or perhaps a good caesar salad. Dessert is going to be either some marble chocolate cake or cannolis. Are there cake-cannolo combos? 'Cause that would be my pick.

When it comes to main dishes, however, I remain stumped. I have foods that I like, but I couldn't come up with anything that I would consider worthy of a final meal.

Have I lost my zest for life? Has my unrefined palate finally caught up to me? Are my senses dulled by too many "dinners" of chocolate and crackers?

Rude awakening

This morning I changed up my usual schedule. Boy, did I come to regret that decision.

Most mornings, I go right from bed to the shower. Then I pry open my eyes wide enough to make some coffee.

Today, for some unknown (stupid?) reason, I skipped the shower and coffee and started putting away dishes. Barely awake, I opened the storage drawer below the oven. Forgetting one tiny detail: N.A. placed a mouse trap there last night. And it was occupied.

I've never moved so quickly in the morning. Stereotypically, I screamed like a, well, like a girl and ran back to the bedroom to cower next to N.A.

Thankfully, he didn't make fun of me. He calmly went to the drawer, removed the trap and mouse, and (he later told me), mopped up the brains, blood, and mouse pee. Gotta love him.

Meanwhile, if you could please excuse me because I think I'm going to go swoon on the couch now.

They coming a-marching...

freakin' ANTS!

I already feel like I'm half assing both my professional and personal life. If I'm working too much, I'm not at home enough. If I'm at home with N.A. and Puppy, then I'm not getting enough work done. What a cycle.

And now, ants. Tiny, mobile reminders of how half-assed my housekeeping is.


At least I have a few weeks before my summer students start marching back in.

Shoulda put a ring on it...?

"Where's your ring, Dr. Reaction?" Undergrad sounded startled.

I stammered out a response. Something about blood diamonds and not wanting to support the industry. (Seriously. It's the first thing that came to mind.)

Although N.A. and I are engaged in theory, I don't have a ring. No ring, no wedding date.


I don't have a problem with this...except when I have to explain it to prying students. I'm in no hurry to get married. N.A. and I own a dog and real estate together. Sure, we don't get the tax break for filing as married, but I also don't have to combine our cell phone plans.


Is marriage really all that it's cracked up to be?

Taxing taxes

I usually wait until pretty late (um...say, the 13th of April) to do my taxes. I do N.A.'s taxes as well, and I would rather do them at the same time than do mine first and have to answer similar questions two months later.

When people find out that I haven't sent in my taxes yet, (and they always do-- what is up with that? Weird competition?) they express shock. I suppose this could be because I'm fairly organized in other aspects of my life (read: super anal), so the contrast is surprising.

But still.


Is it really that big of a deal to wait until April 15th to file?

Humorless?

"This movie," the Target cashier assured me as he handed over our newly purchased copy of The Hangover, "will crack you up. Seriously, I wish I could be there to see your face."

Um, ick?

N.A. promised that I would want to watch it over and over.


Ugh. The Hangover was not funny. It was kind of gross, actually.



Am I losing my sense of humor?

Finally, a vacation!

N.A. and I finally got to enjoy a day of post-semester vacation together. No parents. No extended family. No friends. No travel. No cooking. No neighbors. No leaving the house.

So what did we do?

Well, a whole lot of nothing. We played with puppy. We watched a House marathon. We ate lots of leftovers. I did laundry, and N.A. did the dishes.

All in all, a very uneventful, boring day.


It was wonderful!

How to get an ulcer

While I don't actually have an ulcer, I am sure I'm well on my way. In addition to a whole pile o' unbloggable nastiness, here are some of the reasons I've been M.I.B (missing in bloggin') lately:

- class prep is totally kicking my ass

- a student had a mental breakdown in my class

- N.A. and I adopted a dog

- Said adopted dog thinks she is not house-trained and has a penchant for biting my toes.... and waking us up at 5 am. Every. Day.

- Did I mention all the unbloggable nastiness?

- N.A. and I bought a house


Hope to catch up with you all soon....

Naps: Nice or Nefarious?

Today N.A. and I came home from work, laid down in bed to talk, and then promptly fell asleep. I woke up two hours later with a sniff neck, angry red indentation on my face from my watchband, and groggier than when I got home.


Yup, folks, I've confirmed it: naps suck.


A long nap always seems like a really good idea when I'm riding the bus home from work or sitting in the second of three hours of a faculty meeting.

A nap seems like an obvious choice to wake me up before a weekend evening event.

Yet each time I succumb, the result is the same. I'm never rested, and I'm usually crankier than when I started.


At the risk of sounding like a teenager, I've got to ask, "am I doing it wrong?"

A conversation with N.A.

Today N.A. and I went through all of our financial obligations in order to get a more concrete idea of how much we can truly afford for a house payment.

We first listed the things that we currently HAVE to pay or risk financial ruin... or at least a feature on one of those repo shows. That list included student loans and car payments.

The other list included things that I would be very unhappy to stop by for, such as my cell phone, fast internets, and an expanded cable package with DVR. After I listed the DVR/cable charge, we had the following conversation:


Unbalanced Reaction: Okay, so our cable and internet should be the same price at the house, right?

N.A.: I don't know, Unie.

UR: Hmm... you think it will be more expensive?

N.A.: No, I mean I don't know if we can get cable out there. Probably we can get dial-up, but we might have to get Dish Network in order to get TV stations.

UR: Um, dial-up?

N.A.: Yeah, for the internet. That will still work, right?

UR: ....

N.A.: Unie?

UR: Yeah, no. That's not going to work for me.

N.A.: Hahahaha! I'm kidding.

UR: ....

N.A.: You aren't laughing!


After that, we agreed that jokes about potentially cutting me off from my cable internet are no longer allowed.

Weekend of firsts

Lots of firsts this weekend!

- first true three-day weekend in a loooong time

- first time since the 90s that I visited my parents without bringing work

- first 4th without checking on the lab


and my favorite:

- N.A. and I decided to get our first realtor

I've arrived?

Well, after driving through many, many states and a time zone or two, I've finally arrived in my new (permanent?) state. I've started my new (permanent?) faculty position at my new (permanent?) university. And now I will now forever jinx my two-body solution and call this new place PermaU.

With the switch to PermaU comes an even bigger change in my life: N.A. and I are officially living together. One lease, one place.

We've both had to abandon our bachelor lifestyles. For me, this means no more meals of snickers and crackers. N.A. has started accepting that boxes are not furniture. N.A. has had to adjust to a morning carpool schedule, while I have to stop going to bed at 2 am.

Laundry is done every few days (as opposed to a five load marathon every three weeks). I can't let dishes pile up until I run out of spoons. (I mean....um...yeah, I never did that.) Toilet seats are put down. Closets are shared.


Hmmm....what other lifestyle adjustments will we have to make?

feeding frenzy

My fridge/freezer/cupboards contain the following foodstuffs:

- 1/2 carton of soy milk

- mustard

- pickles

- four bottles of beer

- the heel of a bread loaf

- some soy patties

- two packets of tea

- gummy worms



Either an undergrad again (oh, the horror!)

OR

I'm three days away from THE BIG MOVE and my reunion with N.A.!!

Committed?

In a week, I'll be with N.A. Forever. (muhahahaha) We've lived together before, but not in such final terms. Final meaning our stuff is now meshed together, we both have permanent jobs (chemistry gods willing), and we'll have a joint lease.

Clearly, it is time for the next step. We are ready for the ultimate commitment.

I've been waiting for it for awhile, and finally N.A. popped the question (over the phone):

"Unbal, would you like to sign up for a joint cell phone plan with me?"




If only we had a camera to immortalize the moment, but alas... he popped the question over the phone.

School's out for summer!

Grades are in. Many a celebratory beer has been consumed. Students are gone. Sure, some will be back in a few weeks for summer research, but for now things are quiet.

I've started packing up my office in anticipation of the move. Okay, so I'm not so much packing up yet as sorting through the embarrassingly high mounds of random papers. But still. The countdown to the relocation (and moving in with N.A.!) has begun. In less than a month, I'll be settling in to my new job.

PhDLadyBug over at Non tenured Assistant Professor has posed an interesting question about summer productivity. "What is your best advice to make the best out of the summer months?" She writes. By all means click on over and give your two cents; goodness knows that many of us will need more than just the luck of the chemistry gods to have a productive summer after THIS crazy semester.


Anyone else beyond burned out? I know that I'm going to need a LOT more chocolate cake (and beer) before I'll be feeling like getting some actual class prep or research accomplished.

pass the endorphins, please

N.A. and I haven't seen one another since New Years (more on THAT later). I think it's pretty obvious that I'm at an all time endorphin low.

Sure, I have chocolate. (Oh, sweet chemistry gods do I have chocolate.)

Yes, I could exercise. Currently, my exercise regime (haha..like I can really call it that) consists of my morning walk to work, excessive hopping and pacing during lecture, and afternoon post-coffee and liter of water sprints to the bathroom.

I haven't been to the gym since I defended my thesis.


I could blame the fact that I'm at work 12 hours a day and then come home for several more hours of grading.

But really, there is only one reason I haven't been skipping out for a noon workout: the showers are communal.

I'm not talking about little cubicles that require flip-flops.

I'm talking about one big room, 12 shower heads, and lots o' naked people.

Call me a prude, but I do NOT need to shower amongst my students. They do not need to see the state of my cellulite, lack of attention to my um...lady garden... or my tattoo.

(And don't even try to tell me that they won't notice or care. Because although I know they won't whip out their cell phones, I know I'll never hear the end of my Tinkerbell tat*)


So should I chalk this up to the ole UR list of neuroses, or would you balk at having to shower amongst the younguns?


*come on, do you REALLY think I'd have a Tinkerbell tattoo?

A conversation with N.A.

UR: Oh, a package!

N.A.: Oh, really? I wonder who sent it to you?

UR: Oh, it's from you! ...wait, we said we weren't doing Valentine's day presents!!

N.A.: No we didn't. When I asked you if you were getting me anything for VD, you said no. I didn't say anything.

UR: Sneaky, sneaky.


Yes, N.A. is quite sneaky. He is also very romantic, so it all balances out. I hope you are having a great Valentine's Day / Singles Awareness Day. What are you doing to celebrate? Fancy dinner? Couples massage? Girls' night out? Running a super snazzy assay?

Death by chocolate

The other night I had my most Miranda moment to date. Remember the episode of Sex and the City where Miranda has just moved into her new apartment, starts choking, recovers, and then has a panic attack because she thinks that she almost died alone and gotten eaten by her cats?? (NO? I tried to find the youtube clip....)

Well, I had a similar moment (without woman-eating cats, thank goodness) the other night. I was noshing on chocolate chips and watching [embarrassing tv show] when I suddenly started choking. Yes, I inhaled some melty goodness. I then couldn't breathe due to (what I assume to be) melty goodness blocking my windpipe.

As I slowly faded away due to the wayward chocolately juices, I realized that there were worse ways to die than by chocolate. I could get crushed in the stacks in the library. I could suffocate on chemical fumes. I could hit my head on the pipe above the washing machine, pass out, and freeze to death in the basement.

Yeah, chocolate wasn't looking so bad now.

Once I finally caught my breath, I was comforted by one thought: I have a job in the fall near N.A., and I will never have to worry about dying alone again.

On fried chicken and twitches

N.A. and I drove about 15 hours yesterday. I stopped counting states after we hit the five-state mark. Here's a letter I wrote while on the road:


To whom it may concern:

Why did you look at a Kentucky Fried Chicken menu and think, "hmmm...this would make a GREAT buffet!"

Signed,

UR



In other news, my eye twitch has returned! Woohoo! My right eyelid flickers for approximately 30 seconds, every 45 minutes or so. Health experts agree that eye twitches are generally a result of some combination of dehydration, sleep deprivation, stress, or excessive viewing of road kill. I'm not that concerned.

I suppose the best thing to do is drink a bunch of water, get a bit more sleep (more than 11 hours???), chill the fuck out, and stay off the roads.

Guess I won't be driving to the nearby KFC buffet, eh?