Fates

The last Bohemian,
    emancipated from the servitude,
from the tearing of raw flesh,
from the tears

falling through another cloud,
another whisper,

colored the world
    another color,
    another shade of grey.

The eternal eclipse
of a whisper,
    blown on a breeze

stinging the respect
out of the words,
    nothing more than a dream,
a story.

Passed down from generations
    passed into myth
irreconcilable to eternity.

Yesterday was Tuesday.

This concept in itself was almost like a revelation to me. For some reason it felt like Monday all over again. It is 1:15 and I am finally sitting down to lunch and I realize, “Hey, it’s Tuesday.”

I think the cubicle ninjas put mind voodoo on me.

I skipped my morning tea for some reason. This is an action that is wholly unlike me. Then all day I have walked around in a daze. Not a tired daze like normal, but a hazy daze where nothing seems to make sense. I feel like I am on a two minute delay from everyone else.

The only way I can explain this feeling is that I must have been brainwashed by the cubicle ninjas. I found myself volunteering for a task that I didn’t have to do and I will get no credit for when it’s done. I have overcome the mind voodoo now; that much is clear. But the task is done, the report written and I must admit I have little memory of doing any of it.

So, if you find yourself in a dull stupor where you are lagging behind the world by several minutes or you find yourself “re-living” your Monday, more than likely the cubicle ninjas have placed their mind voodoo on you.

There are several ways to free yourself of this mind voodoo.

1. Copious amounts of the magical noomba juice (also known as coffee).
2. Hiding in the break room/bathroom for a good 3 hours to remove unnecessary stimuli (you know, like people).
3. Break your own hand by slamming it in a drawer. The pain will rouse you right up out of your stupor (and then possibly send you right back into shock).
4. Have yourself committed. Think of it as a vacation, not only from work, but also from reason.
5. Have someone kick you in the crotch. Return the favor.
6. Knaw on someone’s brains. Mmmm… braaaaaains. The extra influx of brains will pull you out of any brainwashing. Only zombies know that secret, keep it under wraps.

None of these thing are sure fire of course, but they could help.

On a side note … the Rainbow Twizzlers are back, thus perpetuating the battle for the break room.

On another side note, I feel like going home and getting out my easel and paints.

So, it is the day of my game and my leg still isn't quite right. I'm not limping quite as much, but it still hurts when I try to do certain things. So I am sitting here trying to ice it, metholate it and do anything else that may help so I can play in my game.

I need that magic spray they use in the world cup. Topical anasthetic. Yep, that's the fucking ticket. Bugger.

Hopefully I'll be able to get in my game after a good warm up and stretch. Maybe i won't be a complete and total detriment to have on the field. Damn.

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

I want to play, I'm not just feigning injury to get out of something. Blech.

I need a bio-mechanical leg. Possibly two of them. Then I can be mecha-Utopia. Bigger, better, faster, stronger! Like the six-million dollar man, except without the 80's fabulous hair.

Oh well, off to the field I go.

Yesterday I had a radio show. It was actually a rather good one if I do say so myself. Since I don’t often claim to have a good show, this says something. I was organized, I didn’t stumble over my words much and I was coherent. These are all makings of a good show in my opinion. I was quick with the music and the semi-witty banter.

So, I’m sure you’re all wondering how many people tuned into my good show. One person tuned in and he didn’t come until the end, but he still listened damn it.

What you missed if you didn’t tune in:

• Discussion on the bias against women in the scientific fields.
• The Science of Tea and proper brewing habits.
• Soccer Strategy: The “Offside Trap”
• I prefer my grocery checker to be grumpy so they don’t hold up the line with pointless conversation.
• Should I join a gym? Is it really worth the cost?
• My very special Sunday program: the Rosh Hashanah Episode.
• Music. Duh.

You can still catch it! Just go to my Wednesday Podshow page to hear the episode in the format of your choice. (I like the .rss feed for the shows I listen to.)

Utopia’s Wednesday Rage 09-20-06

Yesterday, there was a minor victory in the battle of the Vending machine. The rainbow twizzlers were removed. Unfortunately, they were replaced with nothing. An empty space …

The struggle over the vending machine continues. It will be a long battle. It is an important landmark, its capture and territory could determine the tides of the Cubicle Wars. Perhaps the vending machine battles are really only a minor part for the battle of the break room.

We have already lost the fancy coffee machine to the plague of chemical warfare the cubicle ninjas unleashed upon us. The oily, burnt, bowel-irritating excuse for coffee still exists within the dreaded machine. We can only hope that our secret stash of regular coffee remains untouched.

Due to war rationing, we have had to settle for mediocre coffee and tea. The cubicle ninjas have already planted decaffeinated coffee and tea within our supplies, so we must be wary.

I have armed myself with a new pen. One with smooth ink and a nice grip. Thus far, it has not been pilfered from my arsenal. I have been keeping a close eye on my arsenal lately as several things have started to slowly disappear from it. My stash of 3.5 floppies has dwindled to dangerously low levels. These diskettes are integral not only to my work, but also to the transferring of information within the ranks. The cubicle ninjas have begun to slowly make off with them, slowing our communications and work. Also, my sticky notes have begun to disappear.

I placed several rubber bands within the arsenal, hoping it would distract the cubicle ninjas from the diskettes and sticky notes, but to no avail. I tried to distract them with the large black paper binding clips for manuals, but this has also been to no avail. I also think my three-hole punch has been tampered with.

Thus the battle wages on… the cubicle ninjas seem to block my every outlet of escape. The schedule slips again due to their tampering. My task complete, yet, those around me are hampered.

Perhaps the empty space in the vending machine has something to do with it. Perhaps it truly holds something more nefarious than $1.65 space.

For a long time now, I have known that it would be twice as hard to make my way in the field I chose because I am a woman. Society seems to be biased against women in science and other high-tech jobs. I won’t say it is just men, it’s not. Women perpetuate the stereotype as well.

We science oriented women have been given a number of excuses of the discrepancy in pay, position and even numbers in the field. Some of the excuses I have personally heard:

• Well, women are just going to leave to have children.
• Women aren’t as good at math as men.
• Women’s hormones make them bad at science during certain times of the month.
• Women are too emotional to be good at science and math.
• God doesn’t want women to be scientists.
• A woman’s brain works differently from a man’s in a way that makes them unable to grasp the basic elements of science and math.

The list goes on, but I’m sure you get the point now.

It is true that many women are not encouraged in math. Many teachers have, in the past, been guilty of overlooking women in math and sciences. They don’t encourage women to take the classes and instead point them in the direction of Home Economics or art and literature courses. But, one should hope that this trend died out with the need for us to burn our bras. I am sure there are places where this still takes place, but, for the most part, it has changed in the US. Girl and boys now have equal grades and math scores in High School math. Women seem to be excelling past men in the field of biology. More women than ever have math degrees … and an equal number of men and women pursue higher level science, engineering and mathematics degrees.

So, why is there still the imbalance in the real working world?

Why do women still get paid 2/3 of what a man gets paid for the same job? Why are women overlooked for the science jobs in favor of men? Why aren’t as many women in the positions of leadership as men?

According to this article (Study finds U.S. bias against women in science), there is no good reason for it. None at all. If you are a female minority, be prepared for worse.

We live in a country where women are not given maternity leave and more and more women come back to work less than a month after giving birth. They take no more time off than they have earned. This leaves the companies at no disadvantage, so they cannot blame children. Women work just as hard as men while performing their duties at work. (Often times even harder as more is expected of us.)

While I hate the misogynistic view some men hold toward this subject, I hate even more the educated male view of it; the men who try to justify the difference with science. There is no good scientific reason for it.

I have often wondered how much more advanced we, as a human society, would be if the minds of women had been educated rather than shoved in front of a cooking pot. What would the world be like today if women had been given a chance just as men had? Most of the world didn’t even accept women as full citizens until the early 1900’s. For centuries the only way a woman could become educated was to become a nun. This in itself limits the ability for scientific advancement.

What has the world lost because women were thought incapable of mathematical or scientific genius?

I pulled my quad. It sucks. I’m limping around like a spaztastic super-‘tard without any moxie (not the drink, the attitude). It hurt yesterday and I couldn’t run in my game which filled me with rage because I really, really, really wanted to play. I was seriously looking forward to it.

I got my uniform. It’s red. I am number 12. I got a large and probably should have gotten a medium, but at least I won’t be constricted in the game.

Here is a list of things to do when you are a un-moxie-licious G Imp.

• Pretend you have a hump and raid graveyards. Remember, it’s pronounced “Eye-Gore”.
• Roll around your cube in your chair even though you are perfectly capable of standing to get the book from the shelf. Heck, roll around your whole office in your chair.
• Take two Tylenol and have people call you in the morning, even if you’re already at work.
• Shamble around the office slowly, muttering “Braaaaaaaaaains….”
• Drive really, really slowly. You know, like an old man on Sunday. This is just to piss people off. It has nothing to do with gas to brake response time … or does it??? *cackles maniacally.*
• Drink absinth and make colorful art nouveau while pushing away all the women who come to love you with your biting, harsh attitude.
• Walk with a cane. If people ask why you are walking with a cane, beat them with said cane.
• Make the baggers at the grocery store walk you out to your car with your groceries. Be really picky about how they put them in your car for you.
• Try to join the Special Olympics.
• Act like the pampered cat on the Fancy Cat commercials. Sit on a pillow and make sure everyone serves you on crystal plates, goblets and bowls with only silver utensils.
• When people ask you if you’re limping, look at them blankly and cock your head to one side and in a very dry monotone, ask them, “What limp?”

If I think of any more activities for the G Imps out there, I might post them. Or maybe not.

Proper treatment of a pulled Muscle (for all of you athletes out there)

Back in the day, I was really athletic, so, I spent a lot of time in the sports medicine department after practice. I think I’ve strained/pulled every muscle in my leg at least once. I’ve had shin splints twice; once in my very first year of soccer and once when I was forced to try to run the hurdles in track. (Shin splints are like pressure fractures.)

Anyway, I know a bit about treating the pulled muscle and I know what not to do, yet, it is always my first reaction to do those things.

When you have a strained muscle do not:

• Massage the muscle. This will increase the blood flow to the muscle which will increase the swelling. The swelling is what harms the muscle more than anything.
• Drink Alcohol to dull the pain. This will also increase the blood flow to the muscle. Bad. Very Bad.
• Continue in physical exertion. A strained muscle is a sign your body needs to rest. You’ve overdone it and your muscles have paid the price. If you continue to exert yourself, you could cause further injury.
• Apply heat for at least the first 3 Days. This will increase the blood flow and thus swelling. After the first three days it should be okay to apply heat to the muscle and perhaps get a light massage to work out any knots that may have formed. Of course, this is a judgment call. If the muscle is still swollen, don’t heat or massage and continue with the ice therapy.

I should take this opportunity to mention I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL. Just so you don’t get confused. See a doctor or sport medicine specialist for proper treatment. What I’m telling you is basically what I’ve been told over the ages.

To care for a strained muscle you should:

• Ice the strained muscle. Apply ice for 10-20 minutes every hour or every other hour in the first day. Continue to ice for the next few days as you see fit. You want to prevent more blood from flowing to the injured muscle to reduce the swelling.
• Elevate the muscle. Once again, this will help slow the blood flow to the muscle. Try to elevate it above your heart. Slouch in those office chairs!
• Take a couple of Ibuprofen. This will help relax the muscle, dull the pain and reduce swelling. Avoid the aspirin because it is a blood thinner and that could increase the blood flow to the muscle.
• Rest. This is the best medicine really. Avoid exerting the muscle as this could cause further strain. Just let the muscle rest.

I did not ice my muscle enough and I know it. But, what can I do? Right?

You should continue the steady icing of the muscle for about three days. Unfortunately, I have to work and I can’t jolly well sit here with an ice pack on my leg. My muscle is swollen like a mother fucker and I need to ice it down. So, I will go home and ice the muscle out really well this evening. It doesn’t help that I need my leg to walk on either. I want it to get well by Sunday so I am going to baby the shit out of it so I can play soccer. I hope to be able to go on a light run by Thursday and possibly practice with some of the women from my team then.

A strained muscle can take 1 to 3 weeks to heal properly. However, by the first week if you have taken proper care of it, you can begin a light work out again. You can pretty much start back into your training or sports when the pain goes away. Don’t over do it and remember to stretch well. I did not stretch well and thus hurt myself.

Because I am a dumbass. Don’t be a dumbass too.

The cubicle ninjas have struck again. Every Tuesday, the vendors come and replenish our snack machines and coffee supply. There was only one item in the snack machine that I liked. Now, we may request having items placed in the snack machines for us, which is nice. But, the cubicle ninjas are always having the vendors put in things I am fairly certain are not digestible by man.

Yesterday I was hungry. I mean seriously hungry. My lunch just wasn’t cutting it. So, I scrounged up change from my drawer and wandered over to the snack machine to get the granola bars I like from it. I was aghast to find them replaced.

By Rainbow Twizzlers.

Ew. I mean, first off, no one should eat anything in that shade of blue let alone that shade of orange, yellow and green. It was like a faerie had vomited inside a vat and they processed it into licorice shaped molds and then packaged it for our consumption.

Now, I have tolerated a good many things from the cubicle ninjas. I tolerate the mediocre tea. I tolerate the fact that they put raisin cookies in the snack machine. (I have an insane aversion to raisins, don’t ask, it’s a long, long rant with no real purpose.) I tolerate the fact that they put starbucks in the coffee machine. I tolerate the sub-par pens and pencils I have to put up with only to have them stolen from my desk. I tolerate the grey interior of my cube. I tolerate more than any person really should. I tolerate the lazy drugs they give people. I tolerate the nefarious propaganda they spread. I tolerate the 15 minute fire alarm test.

But Rainbow Twizzlers?

They have gone too far this time. First they take away the $0.45 Lance Sour Cream and Chive crackers to have them replaced with $0.65 Bugles, then they take away my granola bars. I will not stand for this. I must accost the vendors next Tuesday before the cubicle ninjas get to them …

… or to me.

I am stuck with a quandary. My soccer team has practice on Wednesdays at 7:30. The practice, while not mandatory, is encouraged. There is also, occasionally a practice on Fridays. I am fine with the Friday practice. Yes, it will be a pain in the ass to get from work, to home and back out to where the practices are in Friday evening traffic, but it is doable.

But Wednesdays … 7:30 means that my radio show will definitely not go on at 8:00. So, let’s suppose practice lasts for 2 hours. That means it will be over by 9:30. Say I drive like a bat out of hell to get back to my house. That would put my show starting at 10 at the very, very earliest. More likely I would get home by 10:30. Perhaps practice is only an hour long (I don’t actually know yet) and I get done by 8:30… this puts my earliest starting time at 9 or 9:30. This is really more doable … but still tight.

I really like my Wednesday spot on Mango Radio. I am also unwilling to take any of the other dj’s spots or try and trade. They are positioned and in their groove and that is simply unfair to everyone.

I also really like soccer and I want to make a positive contribution to the team. As soccer is a team sport, I really need to work with the team more to do this. Half of being a good soccer player (once you know the skills) is being able to react to your team in ways that benefits everyone. It’s being able to know what the members can do and will do. Aside from that, I also need to build up my endurance and the best way to do that is through practice and not just running. Street running is all well and good, but it is just not the same as the pure physical effort you have to put out on the soccer field. When I started running my legs ached slightly. After my first soccer game, my entire body ached greatly.

Arg. Frustration.

I hate when my hobbies compete for my time.

Why do I insist on enjoying so many things?

Green Chili

Green Chili

Green chili of awesome

You're not so spicy this year. Stupid rain.

Green Chili

Green Chili

Roasted and sweet.

Smother my burrito, my eggs and my tasty new mexico treats.



Green Chili

Green Chili

Ambrosia of the ages

You make all food kick ass! Kick ass I say!

Thanks Nick! My New Mexico connection!

I am a math dork. I admit it. I like math. I like evil math. Math most people flee in terror from. I like it. It makes me squishy on the inside.

I like set math.

I like topology.

I like theory math.

I like fuzzy math.

I like partials.

But my favorite math is a combination of these things. It makes me giddy on the inside.

My favorite math is Quantum Field Theory.

This is math that makes most people’s brains melt. It is set math, theory math, matrix math and high level calculus all rolled into one shiny ball of awesome.

I would not want to teach math. In fact, I would rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon. Teaching math must be the most miserable bastard of a job ever. Most people don’t like math and thus, the job itself must suck on levels of extraordinary agony. I appreciate people who teach math.

The first math teacher I had who really helped me enjoy it was Mr. Cochran. I was in 6th grade when they made me skip to 7th and Mr. Cochran became my math teacher. He put me into algebra rather than the normal math. When I got kicked out of that school, I got him to sign my year book. He said that the Math Faeries would continue to bless me. Because of him I pursued math a bit more heavily. I transferred to a school where the math teachers sucked, but I stuck with it because of him.

I know he’s not reading this and doesn’t care.

But … thanks. This is for you.

So, I had a long weekend of awesome. I met cool people. I got offered a job. Really I did. And not like a fake job, a real one, with math. I got invited to join a gaming group. I got a hair cut. I drank a lot of beer with my friends. I got Paul Dini to talk into my microphone. I saw some kick ass costumes. I saw some horrifying costumes. I was not goth enough for the CruxShadows Concert. I won at roleplaying … twice … for being a really good Mad Scientist. (I was not mad, I was irritated.) I spent money. I got free schwag.

All of this will be summed up tonight on Utopia’s Wednesday Rage. It will be a good show. I sense it. I am refreshed.

How many of you missed my Sunday show? Well, that’s good, I did too. Beer was involved.

I came up with a costume for myself to wear next year. Two of them in fact. I think I could pull off a kick ass Lady Jaye and a reasonably cool Baroness. This is my goal for next year. The Lady Jaye costume is easy. It involves army surplus and making javelins. I can do that. The Baroness costume will be harder, but I have a year. A black body suit will be involved. And leather. Lots of Leather. I think my Lady Jaye costume might be confused with one of the SG-1 people. (There were hordes of those guys.)

My husband has an ultimate goal. I will be Princess Leia and he will be Jabba the Hutt. I think that would be amusing as hell, but hard to pull off well. He was also thinking of doing up a Bumblebee Costume for himself… in metal.

On a side note, I made up a Dragon*Con drinking game that is sure to get you wasted.

- For every person wearing a Vash the Stampede costume, take a drink.
- For each girl whose ass cheeks you can see, offer her a drink, then take one yourself.
- Every time you spot a man in a kilt, take a long stiff drink.
- For every female pirate you see, shout “Arrr! I’d like to plunder yer booty!” then take a drink. (I stole this idea from one of my friends. Yep, ripped it off totally)
- For every male pirate you see, see above.
- For every person wearing elf ears, kick them in the nuts. If they do not have nuts, bite off one of their ears. Then, take a drink to get the foul, bitter hatred out of your mouth.
- For every person you see with dice, have them roll a d10. Drink accordingly.
- Every time you see Peter Mahue actually standing, gape openly at the sheer massiveness of the man, then drink. Also, offer the man a drink as well. Anyone who is 7’6’’ needs a drink.
- For every gnome or hobbit you see, drink and shout the word “Penis!”
- For every wanker you see wearing a shirt that says “I’m Ninja (you can’t see me)”, walk up to him, say “I want my bloody pen back.” (they won’t get it and will be very confused) Then drink.
- For every catgirl you see, drink, and then do a lewd catcall.
- Every time you see a Dr. Who scarf, drink with a british accent.
- Every time you see some punk ass kid wearing a Naruto outfit, cringe, then drink in front of them while laughing and pointing. (Because they can’t drink.)
- Every time you see the Stormtroopers march in unison or pose with a Darth Vader, drink.
- Every time you see a Super Hero, ask them if you can be their Arch Nemesis. (Oh, and don’t forget to drink.)

By the time this game is done, you should be thoroughly plastered. In fact, you should get plastered off the first two points alone.

The time is here. The time is now.

Oh yes. I smell the geek in the air and the blood in the water.

My mind is going a million miles a minute and I don't know what else to say about it.

Fan girl! Fan girl!

There will be many of these and it will be frightening.