Almost-PhD Forever

click images to enlarge

I was taking Procrastin-X (and high doses of ice cream, caffeine and alcohol) to deal with my Post-Bachelor Disorder... Little did I know they were contraindicated. Now I'll never graduate.


I'll forever be just an old, hyper, hungover almost-PhD fatty.


*Tick* *Shudder* *Twitch* *Moan*


The PBD is worse than ever. It says there's a cure but doesn't say what it is!!! I'd do ANYTHING to get rid of my raging PBD!!!


Uh, except work on my thesis. Yeah. Huge oversight there. Woops.

I can see your underwear, part deux.

I s'pose I talk about underwear quite a bit (i.e. I can see your underwear (part one), In appreciation of Aussies). But I mustn't write about it that much because I haven't made an underwear 'label' for my posts. I still could, but I'm feeling blog-lazy at the moment... After all, it's summer- MUST GET OUTSIDE!

Speaking of getting outside, I was on a patio scarfing down some honey brown on the weekend and doing the usual people-watching. Lately I've been paying a lot of attention to jeans on men and what I call the phenomenon of fit. How low/high should they go? I think you can generally tell a guy's age by how high (and tight) his jeans ride. If his pants are too short in the leg because he's cranked them up to his ribcage, revealing a hint of a moose knuckle in the process, then he's probably over 40 and very proud of the moose knuckle to boot! If his pants are low-riding so that both butt cheeks are riding above the belt, then he's probably under 20... The exception for the young guy is if he's a computer nerd or geeky grad student, he'll still have those pants cranked up regardless of age. The exception for the older guy is if he's got a big belly because the paunch physically prevents the normal natural upward movement of the jeans.

Something I hadn't seen before was a young guy who had underwear that looked like jeans. At first glance, using my theory, you may have guessed him at about 30 years old. But oh no, if you examine the photo you'll see his actual jeans are dark and riding at about the 20 year old level!

Yes, a very tricky situation indeed... Translation: Michie stay away, no pouncing this one you little cougar cub!!! Wait a minute, did I just talk to myself there? And further to that, did I do it in the third person? Oh Lord, time to wrap this thing up...

As an aside, Nate's shirt kills me (on the right side of the top photo)... It says, "I have the body of a God" with a picture of Buddha.

Nap time not crap time

There's a guy in my office who completely sacks out at the end of the day. Quite regularly. I had to get real sneaky to take this photo, uh, and the other 25 I got at different angles and zooms. Hehehe. I'm only kidding. But I took a few. I thought about playing a joke on him one day-- like somehow sneaking a photo onto his computer so it magically appears at the end of his defense presentation.

Ah but I don't want to humiliate him. It'd be a good joke, but also kind of mean. Mind you, I just posted his pic on my blog... Aw c'mon, it's anonymous!

It could be worse. I could get a new gmail account. I could sign up as his supervisor. I could send him an email with photos attached and give him a hard time. End result? He'd probably crap his pants. That's when you know ya done good on a practical joke; the rank smell of feces wafting through the office...

But I don't feel like smelling poo. And I'd rather not know I was behind the whole pants pooing thing. I need to sleep at night.

Hmm, I'll think of something...

I hit my head

I don't feel like posting today. Maybe it's because I hit my head. And when I hit my head, I usually hit it good. Real good.

OUCH.

I was thinking. (Newflash!) Ahem. I was thinking that you know how they make people wear seatbelts and plus there are laws so you can't ride around in the back of pickups and you have to wear helmets on motorbikes, etc. You know how they do that? Personal safety laws. Well, perhaps I should wear a helmet at all times. It would significantly decrease the odds of me jumbling my brain up there whenever I pull a good smackdown on the ol' noggin. It's not a daily occurrence by any means. But when it happens, it's a good one. (BTW, did you know occurrence has two 'c's, two 'r's and no 'a's in it? Go figure. I know, you know it when you see it there, but before you look it up it's actually confusing.)

Of course, I lost my bike helmet when I left it out by my bike one day. It was a boneheaded move, probably shortly after I hit my head one day. Therefore, for my helmet-head plan here, I'd have to wear my old bike helmet. Now, there's a reason why Rose coined this thing "my special friend helmet." I'm not sure why it looks sooo bad on me (let's face it, most helmets don't exactly look good, but this one looks REAL bad. Seriously). Like it sits way up high or something, almost like my lid is way too big for it, but it's not. The helmet is also big though, so I've got this big mushroom helmet sitting way up on top of my big mushroom head.

Are you picturing this?

Anyways, I really think this plan will work. Not only will it help protect my oversized melon from self-induced damage due to constant inattention or misjudgment and preserve my brain cells a little longer, but it will prophylactically ward off potential cranial carnage from unforseen and unpredictable but concievably possible flying objects. This may or may not include stray golf balls, giant sized beetles, baseball bats or the odd flying saucer (I actually meant a flying piece of dishware, not the spaceship thingy).

I'm not even going to mention the time and money I'd save by just throwing my helmet on and not having to do my hair every day or get fancy haircuts and dye jobs and all that shit.

Besides looking slightly goofy, I see one small problem with this plan... That is, with the added size of the helmet on top of my big meathead, I actually hit it MORE OFTEN than without a helmet on. This causes guffaws from passer-bys and can also cause a jarring effect on the head.

I'm going to have to think this through. Maybe I should sleep on it and let the swelling subside first before I try thinking. Maybe I shouldn't have blogged when I'm not thinking.

OUCH. Did I mention I hit my head? I was thinking, you know how they make you wear seatbelts? I have an idea. For my own personal safety. Ah, forget it. I didn't feel like posting today anyhow.

Bye.

Stunt Girl Jeans

Hoofin’ it to school on Monday I totally tripped on the sidewalk. I went DOWN. It was almost exactly like how I’d bit it a couple of months ago, but that time was on ice. I had no excuse this time.

Curiously, I scraped my knee but my jeans remained intact.

The thing is that normally I freak about wiping out and potentially ruining my clothes. However, I actually wouldn’t have minded roughing up my jeans a little. You see, that’s the style nowadays. For some reason, people think ripped jeans are cool. They BUY them already ripped. So not only would I look cooler, but I’d have this kickass story to go with it.

Ok, so tripping on the sidewalk isn’t very kickass. It’s actually really embarrassing! Oh well, it was just a thought.

Way back when ripped jeans were in style before, it looked better. It appeared that you actually wore out your jeans. Nowadays it’s just random and looks like you dropped way too much cash on tacky-looking damaged goods. It’s like trying to “buy your cool.” Back in ‘94 I had an old pair of baggy men’s Levi’s that were ripped from true wear and tear. At the time I thought they were pretty rad, but there were a lot of styles in the early ‘90s that I thought looked great at the time. Haha, NOT.

I guess the latest cool thing is jeans that someone has used as target practice with a shotgun. They’re full of holes and the pattern of each is unique. Interesting…

Now, if you could make jeans look like you actually ruined them doing something cool then you’d have something worth wearing with pride. So I got a brainwave, wait for it… What about jeans that someone has worn taking a tumble and totally roughed up? Like, maybe if they did a few somersaults down a hill and into some rocks. Of course, I’d have to get the gravel and bloodstains out. Or maybe that would be cool too… Hmm, the ideas are just flowin’ here!!!

One problem, I’d be in a wheelchair before I made my first mill.

Wait, what about jeans that real stunt girls have worn? Forget dorky Mich and her clutzomania… These would be denim roughed up by chicks who kick serious ass on screen. Each fall would have it’s own unique tear pattern, plus the jeans would have a genuine history, all caught on film! You could brag, “Yeah these are the jeans that so and so wore when she fell out of that plane, landed on the train, got into a tussle with so and so for a bit, was drop-kicked between train cars, fell underneath and got run over several times before she dusted herself off and lived happily ever after.”

I’d call them Stunt Girl Jeans. It’s catchy. And cool.

Wait a second… In Stunt Girl Jeans you’d still be buying your cool. Hmm, maybe some people just have to buy it? As for me, I’m going to make some genuine cool in my jeans and try not to kill myself in the meantime. Hopefully there won’t be too many people laughing on the sidelines…

Writing by Google

I don't think I could be a standup comic. This is partly because sometimes I'm not very quick-witted, especially in front of potentially hardcore hecklers.

This is why I write. On a blog there may indeed be hecklers, but I can think a while on it.

Writing is very CONTRIVED. I can manipulate and massage the words so that they are as dull or as colourful as I want (or I can try).

Metaphors definitely add colour. A metaphor is "a figure of speech in which an expression is used to refer to something that it does not literally denote in order to suggest a similarity." Wait, what's the difference between a metaphor and an analogy? An analogy is a "similarity in some respects between things that are otherwise dissimilar." Oh geez, I'm confused. Ok so I'm no English whiz...

My point is this... one time I had to Roast this guy. I wrote my introduction somehwhat humourously so that my introducer could "warm up" the crowd for me. Here's what he said:

Our first speaker is one who keeps people on the edge of their seats. What happens is many of them doze off & slide forward. Tonight, Mich will be doing The Roast... and when she found out that there was actually a speech where one of the main goals was to "poke fun at a particular individual," she was all over it like _______________…

I got the first lines out of a Humorous Toasts/Roasts book. It was too classic to pass up. I couldn't think of anything for the last part. I always used to say, "She was all over it like a fat kid on a smartie." I wanted something original though. To get the creative juices flowing, I plugged "all over it like" into Google and checked out what came up. There were some pretty funny ones:

She was all over it like…

- Stink on a monkey

- White on rice

- A fat kid on a smartie

- A pitbull on a poodle

- Flies on shit

- Whipped topping on the Varsity Blues cheerleader

- Brown on a Philipino

- A hobo on a ham sammich

- A rash

- A horny housecat

- Ants at a picnic

- Ugly on an ape

Those aren’t bad. My penchant for monkeys makes that one extra funny. “Flies on shit” just wouldn’t fly with that crowd. Here were my creations:

She was all over it like…

- A pitbull on the postman (similar to the poodle but with a different twist)

- Shit on toilet paper

- Pricks on a porcupine

- Tattoos on a punk rocker

- Dimples on a golf ball

I ended up using "She was all over it like a pitbull on the postman!"

So if you ever need to fill in a blank, plug the first part of the phrase into Google and get the creative juices flowing! Of course you can always copy your findings, but sometimes just a kickstart is needed.

I wish there was an instant Google in my head. Googlehead. And a 'backspace' key. 'Delete' would be handy too, that is, if you could choose what to delete. Although I think someone presses a 'delete' key on my head once in a while when I'm not looking. Now where did I put my keys? Damn that delete!!!

Disaster Area

I realize that you all must think I have it really "together". Yeah, uh huh.

However, if my desk is any indication, I'm about 3 more papers from completely LOSING IT!!! I'm supposed to graduate by August 31st this year but unfortunately just getting through everything on my desk will probably take me until, oh, June I figure.

While you're visiting my office, check out the metabolic pathways poster I put together when studying for my candidacy... It gives the impression that although I may be disorganized, I'm actually somewhat of a biochemisty dynamo.

Rrrrriiiiiiiiiigghhhttt.

Speaking of which, I found out something about myself the other day... I was thinking about what a disaster area I really am, and thinking that sometimes people who are a disaster in one area are usually really really smart in another area of their life. And well, I somehow got into grad school, so maybe there's talent there (besides totally pulling the wool over my supervisor's eyes)? So what do you call a person who is usually a meathead but has some kind of freakish talent? An idiot savant!!!

idiot savant: An intellectually disabled person who exhibits extraordinary ability in a highly specialized area, such as mathematics or music.

My area of specialization: nutrition and metabolism. Everything else I suck at. Oh well, keeps things interesting I suppose...

The Boudoir Workout for your Booty

I have a lovely day of cleaning planned today. Thank goodness I have some company coming next week, it jump-starts the ol’ cleaning motivation, which is usually NIL. In fact, if I EVER want to date again, I’d better get that bedroom clean!!!

Actually, doing laps around my bedroom right now would be an excellent workout regimen. I could write a book and get really rich!!! I’d call it something tantalizing like “The Boudoir Workout for your Booty”. In actual fact, it would just be an instruction manual as to how to get your bedroom to the state mine is in (a natural disaster might help too).

So the workout would then be doing laps around the messy boudoir, which would be an obstacle course of climbing up the clothes piles, scrambling over stacks of books, maneuvering around hoardes of empty glasses and dodging old cat puke… Just kidding about the cat puke (or am I?). With the book’s clever name it is sure to sell like crazy, ahem, initially. But then I suppose after reading the first few pages they’d say, “What the? This has nothing to do with sex!!! What a ripoff!” Then they’d realize that in order to actually have any sex, they’d have to clean the fricken mess up.

Oh, and then I wouldn’t be the only loser with a messy bedroom out there! Man, this plan just gets better and better!!!

Tis the season to be hairy

We’ve come to that time of year… Winter + No boyfriend = LEG HAIR GROWING SEASON. It’s kind of scary actually. I wonder if hair actually grows faster in cold weather? And is there a max length it can reach? Boys? I’m assuming your leg hair stays the same length? Does it get thicker as you age or just migrate to your back? Anyways, I don’t even recognize my legs anymore. I look down in the shower and scream for a second until I realize those are my legs and not some primate intruder’s.

That brings me to another puzzling question. They say fat distribution is genetically determined, however, isn’t it there to keep us warm? Furthermore, is it possible that we gain more fat where we get really cold? I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the case because I always bundle up on top, but on the bottom I only have a thin layer of denim between myself and the cold. It seems logical and the proof is evident. My body seems to be laying down insulation like crazy down there!

So it follows that there’s only one answer to this situation… If I wear down-filled snow pants all the time and keep it all toasty down there, then perhaps my legs will slim down PLUS my leg hair will cease its takeover. It’s a win-win situation. But that’s only Part 1 of this brilliant plan, the best idea EVER is Part 2. Yes indeed, this is GENIUS! Wait though… Come to think of it, there may be finger pointing and even car accidents. "Keep it in the circus!" Children and adults alike would run screaming. "Freeeaaak!!!" Plus I’d ruin a lot of clothes as I cut out the chest area on all of them. Most importantly: is the risk of frostbite on the nips really worth it?

Hmm. I may have to abandon this experiment until I think it through a little more. The theory seemed sound, but in practice it may not work out so well. For now I guess I’ll put up with the sasquatch legs [Hey look, it's Big Foot!!!] …or just give in and get out the ol’ weed wacker.

Catcall Theory

It always boggled my mind when I’d be walking down the street and boys who drive by proceed to honk and yell and me. How am I supposed to react to that? I’ve jumped out of my skin a few times it startled me so bad. One of the oddest things I’ve seen, though, was one time a guy in a dog costume (Ralph the dog style) hung his head out the window and yelled at me, “Woooooo hooooooooooo yeah baby!” Oh my. THAT was hilarious.

So what is it that makes guys think they can do this? I can’t even imagine driving by a guy on the street and yelling out the window at him. What would this accomplish? I used to wonder if it’s an extension of the “women as SEX OBJECTS” idea. It’s always struck me as being strange. I’m a person taking a walk; minding my own business… I’m NOT there for others entertainment (even though at times I may inadvertently be entertaining through my utter dorkiness).

Then one day my catcall theory was proven and the key to this mystery was uncovered!

I was out with a group of people, including my roommate. Driving to the bar that night, my roomie decided to yell at some women walking down the street from the back of the minivan we were all in. First of all, they couldn’t hear him as we were in the back of the van, no windows open. Secondly, reread: minivan. I wasn’t sure what had gotten into him because I’d never seen him so acting so vocal towards complete strangers before. Then later, we were on a rooftop patio and watching the people on the street below us. ONCE AGAIN he yelled something at a female passer-by. I shook my head and thought, “WTF is going on??? This isn’t like him at all.” Mind you, when I say he yelled ‘something’ you have to remember that he’s not a seasoned catcaller. It was something like, “Hey you, I like you!” in his oh-so-charming French accent.

Light bulb moment! It was THEN my little brain put it all together…

Earlier that day we’d been drinking at some beer gardens with the aforementioned group of people. There just happened to be a strip club right beside the beer gardens. When my roomie mentioned he’d never been to the strippers (I guess in small town France they don’t have these places), the boys in our group decided that he MUST experience this. They were in there for about half an hour or so before I went in to get them and tell them the minivan was pulling out shortly.

So it was only after going to the strippers that he became verbally aggressive towards strange women. Just think about the guys who grew up here and probably went to the peeler bars countless times in their past. Their minds are probably effed to the point where they are unable to distinguish between the strippers who are PAID to be there for male entertainment purposes ONLY, and the people walking down the street minding their own business.

I will continue to ignore the catcalls I suppose. However, if someone hucks a loonie at me, I’m gonna lose it.