1. A couple of weeks ago I was tipsily shopping at 7-11. A couple of police officers were in there, chilling behind the counter with the owner eating grody hot dogs and such. I gave them my polite smile that I reserve for policemen and firemen, and went along my merry way. I got the items I wanted, paid and left and was then approached by one of the police officers outside the store. "Excuse me, miss?" he called after me as I turned the corner back to my apartment. My mind was flooded with thoughts as to why a police officer would be talking to me. Did he smell the booze on my breath and was he going to arrest me for WUI (walking under the influence)? Was he going to warn me and tell me to be careful since there was a rape in the area? Was he going to arrest me for trying all of the Slurpee flavors before settling on a decision (cherry)? No, no and no. He was going to tell me I was very beautiful and then ask me for my phone number. I was shocked. Like, what? Is this allowed? An on-duty police officer can approach women and ask them on a date? This seems odd to me. Also, he was a good half a foot shorter than me and all I could look at was the embroidered CPD on his turtleneck. Anyway, I turned him down. And then he handcuffed me and threw me in the back on the squad car. Kidding.

2. Last week Bryce told me that my eyes twinkle. Like Santa. This might be the best thing anyone has ever told me.

3. I'm on book five of the Harry Potter series and guess what? I'm actually enjoying them. Bryce thinks this is the most amazing thing ever and is seriously tickled whenever I say things like "The bus driver looks like Hagrid."

4. I still enjoy taking pictures in Millennium Park. Seriously, I'm such a tourist.



5. I've had a cough for going on three weeks and the only thing the doctor has suggested in Claritin. I'm pretty sure I'm going to die in the next week or so, if not from lack of oxygen, but from exhaustion. I haven't slept more than 4 hours in the past week. Neat.

6. Under my mini-wheat costume I wore a pair of $5 leggings I got from Target. Before I bought these leggings, I thought everyone who wore them was an idiot. But, um, guys? LEGGINGS ARE AWESOME. No wonder I wore them all the time when I was a little girl! Seriously, I've had these leggings for like, what? Three weeks now? That's twenty-one days. I think I've worn them at least fifteen times. Today I'm not wearing them with underwear underneath (tmi) and just went to Walgreens. And my shirt doesn't cover my ass. I'm pretty sure I was almost naked in Walgreens.

7. I went to Walgreens to buy a pint of ice cream. Yes, I eat ice cream by the pint and wear leggings. Help me.

8. My fam is headed to Florida this Christmas and I hope to re-create this photo from a Florida vacation many moons ago:



9. I've been reading all these posts on what to do with Thanksgiving leftovers. Guys, is my family the only family in which leftovers don't exist? We make like, three turkeys and a billion and a half pounds of potatoes and a metric ton of stuffing, only to have it gone in under an hour. Mmmm stuffing. My mom's having Thanksgiving this year. I think I will go there early to help and force her (ask nicely) to make three times the amount of stuffing. And maybe I'll whip up a bacon apple pie for the occasion.

10. I dog-sat Tippy last month and she had been bitten in the crotch by some other dog at this like, Jack Russell Terrier convention (don't ask) and so I had to put this doggie vagina ointment on her and then put on this Speedo so she woudn't like it off. Seriously, this was my brother's Speedo when he was like, three. Tippy didn't enjoy wearing them, to say the least.

Dudes, I never post. What gives. I have things to say but then look at my pile of homework and I end up burrowing into a heap of [college ruled] papers scrawled with variance formulas and GAME THEORY matrices. And then I look at my bed see a pile of blankets and I burrow deep into them and it's all over.

First things first... here are a couple pictures from Halloween:


Happy Halloween from your favorite cereal characters.


Me and Tony, er, Bryce. I want Bryce to wear blue eyeshadow on his nose everyday. Seriously.


"What are you? Some sort of hairy face?"

Last week (I think?) I had my three month post-op doctor's appointment with my surgeon. He's given me the go ahead on working out again, which is totally awesome. Not awesome? The fact that I have a wicked cough that is not responding to Mucinex. The pills go in but the little green men don't come out. So, I haven't been able to head back to the gym to lose the poundage I've accumulated by sitting on my damaged butt for the past three months. This is scary, since, among other dietary indiscretions, I've eaten two bags of Halloween candy in two days. Seriously, I wasn't even expecting trick or treaters but I bought a giant variety pack. Neat. Okay, in the spirit of midterms, let's review: no workouts for three months + bags of chocolate + ramen noodles (mama is poor) + Christmastime trip to the great state of Florida + bathing suit = Horrifying sight from which you need to shield your eyes.

Oh, so the other day I was thinking about my retarded injury and how much crap it's put me through (also, how much it's cost me) and I realized that I never wrote about the actual surgery. It's not particularly interesting in general, but there are a few things I think are hilarious so I need to write them down for posterity. Or something.

My surgery was scheduled for 7am in a "same day surgery center" downtown Chicago. This really freaked my mom out, because, yeah, it's sorta weird to park your car in some sketchy parking lot under the El tracks and walk into some unlabeled building across the street from Macy's and take a few elevators up and suddenly appear in a surgery ward. Also, I felt like a homeless person. I was wearing the baggiest, scrubbiest clothes possible, no makeup and my glasses and walking downtown Chicago amongst throngs of people on their way to work. So, they administer a second pregnancy test (in case I got knocked up in three days I guess) and give me a gown, hairnet thing and booties to put on. Then they send in a billion and a half different nurses and doctors, who each ask me which leg I'm having repaired to make sure they do the right one. The surgeon writes a big ole YES on my left leg in purple marker. I came to know that YES well, seeing as I wasn't able to bathe for two weeks post surgery.

The anesthesiologist came in and totally freaked me out by going over his laundry list of things that could go wrong, the most frightening being KNOCKING OUT MY TEETH (this is my biggest fear in the world. 2nd? butterflies, moths and dragonflies.) from intubating me. Wah. Anyway, I'm suddenly really nervous and my dad looks like he's going to cry and my mom is trying to talk about things that don't involve me dying or bleeding to death or losing the use of my limbs. The finally wheel me away and drug me and apparently tape my eyelids shut because I was picking adhesive out of my lashes later in the day. The surgery takes two hours or something (I don't know, even though I was apparently there) and afterward the surgeon goes to the waiting room (where my parents are watching the only available channel, Home Shopping Network, or reading Highlights magazine) dressed in the most ridiculous outfit to tell my parents the surgery went well and blah blah blah all my dad seemed to be able to relay to me was that he was dressed in a surgeon's cap and a pair of knee high rubber boots. Like he expected to be wading in a pond of blood or something.

I woke up sometime after that (duh) and was so freaking cold. I was shaking and shivering and cracking up (which was an improvement from the last time I was put under for wisdom teeth, when I was crying uncontrollably). The nurse was piling blankets on top of me and I was still shaking and my teeth were chattering so they put this plastic thing on me that would blow hot air on me. It was awesome and I wonder if they sell them for home use. The first thing I asked my mom was if I still had all my teeth (yes, I do). And then I asked for a ginger ale. And then I peered at my mom with wide eyes and whispered "where are my underwear?" because, dudes, I totally wore underwear in and totally didn't wear underwear out. I mean, I specifically asked the nurse if I should take them off (since they were operating on my butt crease) but she said no. And if a medical professional tells you to leave your knickers on, you leave your knickers on. But now they were gone. My mom found them inside a rubber glove... like someone grabbed my underwear and then turned the glove inside out around them. And then stuck the underwear (and glove) in a biohazard bag. My underpants are biohazardous material! But seriously, can you imagine? I'm totally asleep, my eyes are taped closed, I have a tube in my mouth and they are fumbling with my underwear. Neat.

After they monitored me for a while they taught me how to use crutches properly (Wait, maybe they did this before surgery? Hmm, that would make more sense...) and then put me in a wheelchair and sent me back the hot summer sidewalks of Chicago where my dad was double parked and being yelled at by a cabbie. I lived on my parents' couch for two weeks, not really able to sit up, washing my hair in the kitchen sink and watching a lot of Maury. Part of me misses those two weeks, which is probably super weird... longing for the days when I had a gaping wound and a minor addiction to pain pills. But really, those two weeks were before the days of problem sets and standard deviations and Cobb-Douglass demand functions... life was simpler then. And I had someone (a few someones, actually) waiting on me hand and foot. Now I have Diet Coke cans littering my room and a minor addiction to jalapeno potato chips instead of vicodin. OH, and it didn't get dark at like, 3pm. Daylight savings sucks.

It's funny how much easier it is to update this here thing here when it's on someone else's time. Namely, my employer's. But now that I don't have an employer, I'm finding it hard to sit down at my computer and actually type. I'd like to say that I also find it hard to sit on the internet in general, that I'm just so full of zest and an energy for life to waste away the precious hours of my time here on Earth lounging in my underwear, my thighs lightly warmed by my laptop battery. Sadly, this is not the case, and I am, in fact, doing exactly that. I have not been spending my days foraging a new frontier, I'm here, in a supine position, on my brown microfibre couch from the hours of 2pm-6pm, watching television and playing on the internet. Or napping. I've been doing a lot of that lately. I've been waking up at 6:30am, hiking it to Hyde Park on the #56 and #6 buses, making friends with homeless people and learning algebra and calculus for the first time in 10+ years. Did you know it's possible to be better at algebra than calculus? It is, and I am proof. I failed my first crack at the algebra math exam last week (neat), so I need to retake that along with the calc test for the first time around next week (the Monday after my birthday, no less) and pray that I pass. Otherwise, helllllooo fall quarter non-credit math class. Again, neat.

GRAD SCHOOL has been interesting so far. It was weird, the day before the first day of MATH CAMP I got super nervous. Not because I was scared I won't do well, or that I'll get lost in the south side ghetto, but because I didn't know what to wear. Seriously, I was annoyed with myself for not going back to school shopping. Then I remembered that the massive amount of money I'm borrowing is for getting schooled and not a new wardrobe, though I think it wouldn't be too difficult to spend $100k on new fall jackets and leather boots. I also came close to having a grad school induced panic attack in Walgreens. More specifically, aisle seven of Walgreens, the school supplies aisle. Dudes, I haven't purchased notebooks or pencils or pens or Post-It notes in so long, I was overcome with emotion. I was mostly really upset that they only had pencils with 0.7mm lead instead of my preference, 0.5mm. And then I couldn't decide what color math camp should be. I stood there for approximately fifteen minutes debating whether red (hellish) or blue (sad) was more in tune with my feelings about attending a three week "camp" devoted to the study of variables and Cartesian planes. I went with the red.

The people are pretty decent. Seemingly normal. There are a handful of giant douchebags, though, who insist on attempting to prove how smart they are buy saying things like "I prefer to graph things logarithmically, as it helps me visualize the fluidity." Huh? What the fuck does that even mean? Why are you even at math camp? A lot of the people are trying really hard to make friends and for the first time in my life I feel sort of... reclusive? I mean, I'm being friendly and nice to people, but since I'm from here, I'm less... desperate... or something, though that sounds awful. It's just I live in the place where I pretty much grew up and I'm lucky enough to be surrounded by people that I love. People I've known for months or years or decades, and who don't talk about log paper and the fluidity of functions. I am trying though, to meet new people, it's just I'm so annoyed at people's attempts to make friends by talking about their Ivy League education or their time feeding homeless feral dogs in Peru. I just want to meet some people who laugh at my jokes and who admit they aren't perfect and aren't necessarily striving to be. And be down with cheap beer, because homies? Mama is broke.

Heidi and Mike joined the married ranks a couple of weeks ago, making her yet another one of my friends who will be remain in my phone as Heidi (maiden name). It's not that I think it's wrong or bad or sexist to change your name, it's more a combination of my laziness and the fact that my brain has a really hard time switching that sort of stuff over in my head. Plus, it's just sort of odd to me: You go by one name your entire life and then BAM, everyone has to piddle around changing things on their phones as they drink a few beers between the church service and the reception? Basically, my cell phone is a time capsule. It's where maiden names go to die. ANYWAY, it was a great wedding, despite it being slightly foiled by the wacky weather. August in the midwest is supposed to be sweltering, and I was concerned about sweating profusely through my fancy schmancy duds since it was an outdoor wedding. Only it turned out to be maybe sixty degrees and raining and I wore a coat for the better part of the evening. Still, it was held in this seriously ENORMOUS tent next to a lake. Seriously, this tent! Huge! Likely rented from Mr. P.T. Barnum. I was waiting for a trapeze artist to fly in at any moment. Aside from the much appreciated open bar, and the school bus that shuttled as to and from the hotel to the lake/circus tent, there were peanuts and a popcorn machine and a great band and DUDES, all the cheese you could ever wish for to put atop a hamburger. Meaning I ate roughly thirteen pounds of bleu cheese. On a 1/3 pound beef patty. Delicious.


He flies through the air with the greatest of ease...


My gentleman caller/wedding date.

Other than math camp and the wedding, my life recently has pretty much consisted of trying to convince myself that it's really not fall yet and that I didn't waste my entire summer being a gimp with a bum leg. And, for all interested parties, it's getting better. Slowly but surely. I still can't workout, which has resulted in me becoming a fatso, but I'm hoping to get back to the gym the beginning of next month. I had a goal to be skinny for my birthday, but seeing as the Big Day is on Saturday, that is not very likely. I also had a goal of being going against everything I stand for when it comes to ridiculous holidays and traditions and wearing something somewhat revealing on Halloween. But again, not happening. But that's okay. I'm going as a Frosted Mini Wheat. Yes, seriously. Costume construction will commence on September 26th.



So, for those of you playing along at home, or at least skimming this entry, my birthday is this week. If you want, you can send me puppies and blank checks. Or, at the very least, Subway Scrabble codes. I mean, think about it! You get to buy yourself a sandwich in honor of my birthday! It's like buying yourself a present. A delicious present of deli meats and giardiniera. Oh, and a pop. That's actually the important part. The codes are on the cups, not the bread. Which is actually pretty silly, when you think about it.

SPEAKING OF SILLY, is this totally gross? I mean, I think salmon are always gross: alive, dead, being eaten by a bear in a creek, being eaten by a a Japanese man in a sushi joint, raw or cooked. But canned? CANNED SALMON? Grody. To the max.


Bryce had a Jessica Simpson moment and was convinced it was chicken made to taste like salmon. Mostly because he was more disturbed to think that salmon comes in a can than chicken could be made to taste like fish.

The opposite of grody, though, is my new hat. It is my new favorite thing in the whole entire world:


Sup, bitches?

Unrelated to everything (not like everything else I've written was ever so carefully woven together), my car was broken into last week and it makes me want to cut someone. I'm not sure if I left a door unlocked or if they jimmied the lock, but on Friday morning I walked to my car to grab a granola bar before hopping on the bus to school (my car is a great place to keep granola bars) when I noticed that everything from my glove box had been tossed out of the glove box. They were unlucky in that I don't keep anything of value in my car (they didn't take my Van Morrison or Corrs cds... weird.), but they were lucky in that I had a giant knife in my car and they stole that. Why, Anna, did you have a giant knife in your car, you ask? Well, inquisitive minds, I'm not entirely sure. I flew to Florida to take ownership of my grandpa's car when he was sick and going to die. In his car I've found numerous peculiar things. Aside from a giant knife, I've found a lot of flax seeds, a cassette tape on Christian Science (whut?), a bunch of pens from a crematorium, detailed maps of pretty much every city in Florida and some really ugly (read: awesome) old person sunglasses. And now some punk-ass wannabe thug stole my giant knife I never had a reason to use. But now, when I really want to cut someone, I can't. Figures.

Things have been going swimmingly in Anna Land lately. A few things of note:

1. I had my first state fair experience this weekend and it was glorious. More on that in a bit.

2. This is my last week of work so I'm trying to make myself appear busy. You know, like this is something new. I'm going out with work "colleagues" (this word has always sounded so mature to me. I am not mature. Does this mean I can't have colleagues?) Thursday after work for dollar beers. This likely means I will be hungover on my last day as a SCIENTIST. Guys, I'm kinda sad about this! About no longer being a scientist, not about being hungover. That's just a given. Anyway, on Friday my boss is taking me and the rest of my [hopefully] hungover LAB MATES out to lunch. I picked Flat Top Grill, as usual. That flat bread, it's calling my name.

3. MATH CAMP starts on Monday. I'm scared. What if the other kids don't like me? What if my mom packs me a bad lunch? What if a squirrel eats a hole in my backpack and steals my sandwich (true story)? What if I forget to wear my camp t-shirt on the field trip day?

4. I had my first physical therapy session this morning. It was sort of.. awkward? I didn't know physical therapists did ten minute scar rubdowns. What's that? They DON'T do ten minute scar rubdowns? Hmm. Did I mention that my scar is directly below my butt? In the butt crease? So, yeah, some dude rubbed that for a while while he talked to me about robots and the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

5. I'm collecting the Scrabble pieces from Subway. I want to win $100,000. I mean, yeah, everyone wouldn't mind an extra hundred Gs, but I NEED it. My tuition bill came yesterday. Have you ever had a bill for fifty THOUSAND dollars? It's nauseating. Especially nauseating when I know I'm going to get another one. Neat. What I'm getting at is if you happen to eat at Subway between now and the beginning of October, please send me the codes for the Scrabble letters. It would make me a really happy girl and I'll be your best friend.

--
Now. Back to the fair. Did you know that the McDonald's in Bolingbrook, IL is totally awesome? You don't have to talk to anyone! You just order at this touch screen kiosk! There are real flowers on the tables! Free refills! I drank 64 ounces of Diet Coke! I told Katie all about it and we're going to make a pilgrimage. Seriously, it's that cool.

After I ate my weight in hashbrowns and bacon egg and cheese biscuits, Bryce and I continued on our way to Springfield, IL. Turns out, the state fair is just a giant carnival. With barnyard animals and a cow made out of a butter. Really, it's huge. I think it weighs a ton? Oh, and it's not just a butter COW, but a butter SCENE. A cow eating grass while a young, beardless Abraham Lincoln, also made of butter, lounges with his butter hatchet. Or something. Bryce and I want to know what they do with the butter after the fair is over. I mean, they can't just get rid of it. It's in this rotating refrigerated case, so it's not like it goes bad. We think that they should break it off into pieces and then sell it. I'd totally buy Abe Lincoln's nose and spread it on some nice cinnamon raisin toast.

I've decided that I would like a pet llama. I could pet it and maybe ride it and sell its soft fur. Did you know that llamas don't have top teeth?


After looking at the cows (cows are really flippin' big, did you know that?), pigs (I do not want a pet one of these, thanks), sheep, horses and llamas (dude, the goats were gone the day we went. I was super sad. I LOVE goats. Especially pygmy goats. I want one of those, too. Seriously.), we ate a crapload of food. Corndogs, turkey legs (that was all Bryce, gross), fresh potato chips, funnel cake... so greasy and so delicious. Then we both lost the BB gun shooting game. I think it's rigged. Granted I didn't go Mango Salsa to train this year, but I think I'm a decent shot. Anyway, no giant neon stuffed animals came home with us. Probably for the best.



We also went to this thing called Conservation World. It was cool! It talked about Illinois' natural resources and there were booths about SCIENCE and stuff so it was neat. I hope little kids liked it. Probably not as much as they liked the Tilt-a-Whirl, but there were still some fun things to do. You know, like pretend you're a law enforcement officer.


I obviously went into the wrong profession.

All in all, the state fair is super fun! I enjoyed being a redneck a lot more than I thought I would. The fact that there was a whole barn dedicated to Illinois wineries helped. Wine tasting at the state fair! Who knew? It was also awesome that it was a PERFECT day on Saturday. Sunny with a few clouds, mid-70s, breezy. Made for a pretty sunset, too.



After a day full of llamas, corndogs, flashing lights, motion sickness and livestock made of butter, we bought a one way ticket on the sky tram out of the fair and drove off into the sunset. Well, away from the sunset. Whatever.



Oh, and when we got home (at midnight), I insisted we both shower because our feet were blackened with dirt, and likely manure, and I was convinced we smelled like carnies.

My friend Kevin got married on Saturday. The wedding was 45367 times more fun than my cousin's wedding in the Dells two weekends ago for the following reasons:
A. I actually like my friend Kevin, unlike my cousin.
B. It wasn't in the white trash capital of the world.
C. Two words: Open. Bar.
D. There wasn't karaoke at the reception.
E. They didn't play the chicken dance.
F. They had cheese balls during cocktail hour.

Derek came with me and we had a super fun time, as always. It's our third wedding together and we always have a fabulous time. We've decided that we're going to take ballroom dancing lessons together so that we can steal the show at the next wedding we go to together. Get excited.

Here are a few photos (that I stole from Derek because, again, I'm too lazy to upload my own pictures.):

Derek and I drinking water aka MGD 64 in the hotel room before the ceremony. You know, because free booze for 6 hours later on wasn't enough...?



And, because it's sorta related, here is my own rendition I did of myself for GPOYW (gratuitous picture of yourself Wednesday) over on my tumblr. For the record, I hate tumblr. Anyway. Here is my addition to the GPOYW- Draw Yourself Edition. Except mine is more like draw a creepy version of yourself on photoshop edition. Seriously, let's look at this awful drawing in more detail. Look at my tiny arm. And my weird eyes. And poo hair. And Mr. Dink (from the cartoon Doug) teeth. Ugh. Gross.



Anyway, so then the ceremony happened. The reverend dude was kinda weird and SUPER long winded and it was just like oh my goddddd just marry them alreadyyyyyyy. BUT THEN I found out afterwards that they found him on RentaRev.com or something? And he's the dude who married Christopher Knight (aka Peter Brady) and Andrianne Curry (aka one of America's Next Top Models) on A Very Brady Wedding and suddenly it was hilarious and awesome that this weird super theatrical dude married my friend.

Derek and I did our signature wedding pose:


(why do my eyelashes look white?)

The original wedding pose:



I want to be tan.

As usual, we found the drunkest person at the wedding (in this case, the bride's brother) and went out to the bar after the reception. How did we get there? Oh, we bribed our hotel shuttle driver, no big deal. And then we went back to the hotel, I drunkenly bought a Sierra Mist and a pack of Starburst from the front desk, ate all the red and pink ones, and went to sleep. The End.

Presenting.... a post in which I steal some of Stacie's pictures off of Facebook and put them here instead of typing out an actual entry.

Stacie came to visit last week. We went to Millennium Park and took touristy pictures in the bean.



I took off my shoes and played with the little kids at the Crown Fountain.



We met up with Heidi for happy hour, then we all met Kay dinner. Stacie and Kay kissed a donkey.



Then we went to Will's Northwoods Inn and drank more.



Heidi and I started acting like pirates.



Basically, Stacie needs to move here so I can "get sick" every Tuesday. And I need to upload my own pictures. I'm only a month behind on flickr, no big deal.

Hello, internet.

My life has been the same and yet different and good (really good) and yet bad (really bad) and I think I need to get off this emotional roller coaster some time soon. I like it when my life is... pleasant. Serene. Relatively placid. I mean, I like a good shake-up once in a while (preferably on the weekends, with a cocktail in hand), but for the most part, give me tranquility. I'm still working, which I'm thankful for, and we've just gotten news that one of our grants was funded so our jobs are safe through the year. I'm leaving my job in the fall, anyway, but the guaranteed (well, not totally guaranteed, but less nerve-wracking than before) employment is a good thing in the meantime. I can stop feeling guilty about having a substance abuse (cheap beer and/or expensive vodka) problem on the weekends now that the weather is FINALLY getting nicer. Come fall, I'm likely headed to the University of Chicago to get a masters in enviromental science and policy. And go into extreme (EXTREME) debt in the process. There are cheaper options, even options where I could work full-time in the process, but it's not the same. I'm trying to weigh what's important to me, and feeling like I belong and am actually doing something I enjoy, and one day having a job that I actually love are winning out. And, to be honest, I think I'm ready to be a full-time student again. This work thing? Over rated. Being paid, however, is not, but we can't have it all, can we? Anyway, besides all that stuff (My Future) mucking up my brain, my aunt was diagnosed with lung cancer last month and has been undergoing chemotherapy. When anyone gets sick it's a horrible thing, but this is someone who I'm really close with, someone who lived with us when I was growing up, and is seriously the last person ever who should be going through all of this. She's never smoked, runs triathalons and has been a vegetarian for thirty years. It's just shocking and depressing and has turned my entire family's lives upside down. To further make my family lose even more sleep, my cousin was diagnosed yesterday with some sort of heart disease that will prevent him from doing anything active ever again. No more tennis, basketball, baseball. He's twenty. It's just like, Jesus Christ, as soon as you miraculously come out of that cave on Sunday, make all of this stop. Please?

ANYWAY, I'm trying to keep a smile on my face (oh god, I even gagged a little writing that) despite current affairs. I haven't posted any of my project365: 2009 photos on here this year, but I've been keeping up with that, albeit getting a little lazy uploading them to flickr. Maybe this weekend. Or not. I've also been doing that 365 pictures of Anna thing, which is making me really sick of looking at myself, but I'm unable to quit anything so I have like, 9 months of that left. Neat. If nothing else, the emails I get from creepers asking me to take more photos of my feet or in my glasses or of my fists (wtf? seriously?) entertain me.

Here's one photo from each "project":


Katie painstakingly made rainbow Jell-O for her students (for St. Patrick’s Day… you know, the pot of gold the leprechaun leaves at the end of the rainbow? Yeah, I needed it explained to me, too. I thought it was a lesson in Gay Pride.). I got to eat the leftovers. Holler.


Eating said Jell-O! See that sweater? I bought it at the end of March and I've probably worn it at least fifteen times since then. Someone help me.

Here is a rainbow Jell-O related conversation:

Aja: this makes me want to make some
Aja: http://kethadros.net/archive/photos/20070828_02.jpg
Aja: like that looks fake. too perfect
Anna: nah, it's the cool whip
Aja: cool whip?
Anna: that's why it's cloudy
Aja: ah. well i mean proportionately it's too perfect!
Anna: maybe, but it's just one pack of jello per color.
Anna: like, it makes the same amount every time
Aja: makes me wish i liked jello is all. wah
Anna: hahaha
Aja: http://www.flickr.com/photos/79983630@N00/3419616535/
Aja: most impressive yet. heart shaped!
Anna: well that's just a mold.
Anna: you're easy to impress!
Aja: HAHAHA YOU'RE HARD TO IMPRESS!

Generated by im2html.

Me? Hard to impress? DUH. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, AJA, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? Also, I think it's become my life's mission to make Aja like Jell-O. Her not liking it is un-American. It's Ajan.

Oh, so my visit to Madison was cool. I held a baby and didn't die. Actually, it was kinda fun. Augustin (Jen & Shawn's son) is super laid back and smiley and just chilled on my lap playing with his toes for an hour. I wish I could just sit on someone's lap and play with my toes all day. I have a feeling if I ever said that to someone ("Can I just sit on your lap all day and play with my toes?") I'd be committed within an hour. Sad. It was also awesome to see Heidi, who I hadn't seen since June. She made us dinner and we drank a couple bottles of red wine and gossiped and caught up and I realized how much I miss having her around. I'm going to see if she wants to come down for a Chicago weekend one weekend soon. This past month I've been seeing all these people I haven't seen in forever (Josh, Brian, Stacie, Bryan, Jen, Shawn, Neema, Heidi, Joe...) and it's made me all nostalgic for my past life (seriously, it feels that way) in Madison. I love my friends in Chicago and my life here, but things were so much different then. Easier, more carefree, you know? YOUTH! I MISS YOU.

Someone needs to buy me Bananagrams. I played with Neema's uncle on Sunday afternoon and I am addicted.

Coming back to work after a five day weekend is disheartening and depressing. Especially when said five day weekend was as awesome as mine was. It's hard to write about trips without it becoming a telenovela of epic proportions (or something, I just really wanted to write telenovela.) that makes less and less sense the longer you try to write about it.

So yeah, I left Chicago on Wednesday evening and headed for the great city of Champaign to meet up with Josh and eat dinner with him and his new ladyfriend person. We ate frog legs, among other things, and even though they were really good (TASTES LIKE CHICKEN. But really, they did.) I had a hard time eating them. They were battered and fried, but they still LOOKED like frog legs (big frog legs) and though they weren't slimy and frog-like anymore, I had the hardest time getting the ribbit ribbit frog-like imagery out of my head. But whatever, I suppose I can cross "eat frog legs" off my bucket list. If I had a bucket list.

We hit the road(s) (if only it were a straight shot... though I should mention that we didn't get lost once. BAM!) around 6:30am on Thursday and drove the 11.5 hours to our nation's capital. I drank approximately 96 ounces of soda pop on the way, but luckily Josh appears to have a bladder the same size as mine and I didn't feel like a jerk peeing all the time. Growing up, my family would go up to northern Wisconsin and we were lucky if my dad would let us stop once to pee during the 7 or so hour drive. I was quite spoiled with the bathroom/Corn Nut pit stops on this drive to DC.



32 ounces of Diet Coke for 69 cents at the Circle K is an amazing deal and had me caffeinated long into Indiana.

Josh and I have determined that for the most part, every state looks the same. Sure, sometimes it's hillier or there is a chance of a rock slide in West Virginia and not in Illinois, but if you were driving down the highway at any given moment you took a photo, in most cases it would be impossible to tell what state you were in. I was saying that I want to take 50 photos, one off the highway in each state, and make people guess where they are. I'm willing to bet most people couldn't get more than 20% right. I think I could figure out like, Hawaii, obviously, and maybe some western states, but otherwise? No way. Olive Gardens and Wal-Marts off the highway are apparently everywhere. Other roadside attractions include the plethora of mustaches on West Virginian women and lots of love for Jesus on mudflaps and gas station signage. I've driven to DC in the past and had fond memories of West Virginia, mostly the quaint towns that populate the mountain valleys and railroad bridges. I was happy to see that I had remembered West Virginia correctly, that it's truly beautiful. Not that I'd ever live there, especially not after seeing 20/20's Children of the [Appalachian] Mountainsspecial or whatever, where they put Mountain Dew in baby bottles. But really, such cute towns. Not cute teeth.



We rolled into DC around 8pm that night and dropped off all our crapola (and 24 bottles of Wisco beer I had brought along for Brian) before heading to Amsterdam Falafel for seriously delicious falafel and pita sandwiches. I might have dreams of this place, no joke. Then we went back to Brian's sweet pad and drank beerz and I passed out on his sack (beanbag) because I was/am both a lightweight and exhausto. There is some stand-up comedian who says, "You can tell if you're a failure by this - if you're over 40 and still sitting in a bean bag chair, you're a failure.", but he's gotta be taking about the sticky pleather beanbag chairs of my youth, because these sacks? Awesome. Like a little nest. Well, big nest.

I was awoken on Friday morning by a morning dove. A really loud mourning dove. At first, in my droopy eyed half-awakeness, thought it was one of those nature alarm clocks. But when I got up to turn it off I realized that, no, it was a real mourning dove. In the room. Ok, so the "in the room" is up for debate. Brian says the window sill is not inside the room, I say it is since the window was wide open with no screen and its tail feathers were resting on the stuff INSIDE the room. So the bird was inside. Waking me up with its oo-waoh oo-waoh oo-waohs. So I read about pig orgasms in Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex by Mary Roach, which Josh had brought with and happened to be lying around. It was entertaining and I will likely pick up a copy for myself. Because I like to read about graduate students fingering chimpanzees in the same of SCIENCE. That and it's gotten good reviews. But mostly the former.

Friday we headed to the National Archives because we thought we should be good Americans and take a peek at the Constitution, the Bill of Rights and the Declaration of Independence. But then the line was like, two hours long and we didn't want to spend it behind a posse of eighth graders wearing glittery DC souvenir caps. Ugly souvenir caps are un-American. We then went to the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, where I got overly excited at wooly mammoths, and the Museum of American History, where I got overly excited at the puffy shirt from Seinfeld. I'm apparently overly-excited about something at all times. We made a pit stop at the White House to play on the presidential swing set with Sasha and Malia, and to make inappropriate jokes about the snipers on the roof.



Right after we got done playing Red Rover with the kiddies on the lawn.

Stacie and Bryan came over to Brian's for a few beers before we all headed to a bar to watch the Wisconsin/Florida State basketball game. You know, the one we (Wisco) won in overtime. Holler. Anyway, before all that I greeted folks in one of the SLANKETS that Brian's roommates have. SLANKET HEAVEN.



You really can do more in a blanket with sleeves!



You know, like play the guitar! Or, in my case, look like a drunken weirdo even though you've only had 2 glasses of wine at Pizza Paradiso. Which, by the way, had the the best quattro formaggi pizza ever.

Watching the game was fun, especially since we won in overtime. And because Miller Lites were on special. After the game we went to Georgetown to meet up with Other Stace's (not my Stacie, Josh's friend, who also went to Wisco and now works in DC) friends. I started talking to some dude, whose name escapes me for the moment (or, let's by honest, has escaped me for the rest of time thanks to vodka sodas) but who was a Marine. He was a pretty boring fellow who had nothing to talk about other than Iraq since he's never done anything except go to Iraq. But whatever, we talked for a while, which was like pulling teeth because I don't know anything about missiles and tanks and... deserts... and he wasn't exactly the most forthcoming person in the world. Anyway, so I'm rambling on about how when my uncle was in the Marines, he was stationed in Guam and he brought a dog back from there. So then the dude starts talking about how they've been shooting all the dogs there. And I've read about that so I know why they've been doing it (to stop them from eating corpses, but then they don't clean up the dead dogs either, so the whole thing is pretty retarded to me) so I was trying to add to the conversation. But then Marine Boy brought God into the equation by saying God created us in his likeness and that he told us to take care of the other animals, which apparently means shooting Iraqi dogs. Somehow all of this turned to stem cell research, which turned into me arguing with him over how it's completely ridiculous to prefer that extra embryos in clinics are destroyed via incineration or whatever instead of "destroying" them by using them to research diseases which are killing thousands of people a day. It's smart for a drunk scientist (me) to argue a drunk Bible Beater (him). He tried to use scientific examples and failed miserably, but the downfall of the night was when he tried to use Josh as an example and talking about how he would die anyway, someday, if he didn't have a liver "grown for him" and that his soul would go on living with God or something. Then Josh told him that souls didn't exist and then refusing to talk to him and it got incredibly uncomfortable and I couldn't stop laughing. We left soon after this happened and I soon passed out on the couch watching Brian's roommate play video games.

Saturday we went to Georgetown to eat lunch (and drink the nastiest margarita known to man) with Stacie, Bryan, Bryan's roommate Nate who has been in the Peace Corps for the past 3 years and was in town for a wedding and a bunch of his Peace Corps friends. I hadn't seen Nate in years, probably not since he graduated UW a year before me, so it was good to see him and hear about his Honduran adventures. I also got to meet Stacie's baby, Lambeau, a French bulldog.


Sup.

We took Lambeau to walk around by all the monuments and every single person was smiling and waving and petting him. A little walking ray of sunshine or something. Soon we call had to pee (except for Lambeau, who is allowed to pee freely) but EVERY SINGLE BATHROOM (okay, two) were closed. I tickled Brian and he wanted to kill me. HAHA, I'm an ass.

That night we all went to the latest dinner ever (10pm, I needed to eat a sandwich at 7pm) at Founding Farmers which was deliciosa, even if they were out of the fried chicken and waffles I wanted. Seriously, fried green tomatoes are great. WHO KNEW?? After dinner we headed to Adams Morgan to head to the bars. Stacie and Bryan know the owner of one of them... Eighteen and Red? Maybe? If that's the name of a bar around there, anyway. So, cheap drinks there and we got to partake in some primo-douchebag watching. We then headed to another bar around the corner, a bar that Brian claims is going to become is hangout, called Bedrock Billiards. One of the strangest things in my entire happened to me on the way into the bar. We were running around clicking our heels (which was sort of hard in my moccasins, which I wore the entire weekend, by the way. I packed five pairs of shoes and wore moccasins everywhere.) and just acting generally drunk and happy. I was heading into the bar when I heard the girl I had just walked by tell me to stop. I assumed she was the bouncer or something and wanted to see an ID, but then she's like "Is your name Anna?", causing both me and the people I was with to freak out a little. I was like, "Yes, I'm Anna..." and she's like "I know you... from the internet." Holy shit, it was conditional! How seriously CRAZY is that?? My friends now think I'm some sort of secret internet celebrity, hahaha. Anyway, Elissa's super sweet and was all "I can't believe you just showed up at my bar!!" She generously gave us free shots (seriously, so appreciated) and crazy shot glasses that light up and make noises (which will later used back at Brian's place to fill with vodka and hot sauce. Verdict? NOT RECOMMENDED). Such a bizarre way to meet someone, but awesome nonetheless.

After bartime, we stayed up with Brian's roommates drinking more and smoking hookah until 5:30 in the morning. Nevermind the fact that we were supposed to be on the road by noon so we'd be in Champaign by midnight and I could wake up early and drive back to Chicago in time to go to work on Monday. Needless to say, that didn't happen. I emailed my boss and let her know to expect me back on Tuesday, not Monday, whoops. We dawdled for awhile, trying to feel human again, and finally made it on the road around 3:30pm EST and back in Champaign at 2:30am CST. Everyone thought we were seriously INSANE for driving, but Josh and I had a hilarious time together. Lots of random laughs and good talks. PLUS, it was only fifty bones in gas each. Frugalness, what what! Really though, roadtrips for the mother-effing win!

anna: hahah i want to drive there again next weekend
josh: i know!
josh: hahaha

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Oh, and this isn't really related, but somewhere in West Virginia I got an email from University of Chicago saying I was accepted.

The End.

I haven't updated in a while, so here I am!

My weekend was decent... six loads of laundry and crazy-person cleaning on Friday night and Carol's birthday on Saturday night! Yay! I hadn't seen Carol or Mary in a long time so it was good to see them both. I got pretty sauced on vodka sodas, but I was pleasantly surprised to wake up hangover free on Sunday morning. I guess not drinking wine followed by beer followed by booze helps in the no headache in the morning department. Anyway, I got drunk and flirty and now I have a renewed crush on an old flame (why do I ALWAYS do this?). Still deciding whether or not this is a good thing or a bad thing. Hmm.

Here's the birthday girl with one of her awesome presents from Mary:



Seriously, I'm so jealous. Bobblehead Pee Wee! Ahhh!

And here's one of Mary, Carol and yours truly from Mary's cam:



<3

Katie and I are having people over for fake-St. Pat's Day breakfast on Saturday morning if any locals want to come. Or non-locals (Aja-face? You know you want to!). I'm taking the signature sangria and making it green. Oooo! I just remembered I have green Jell-O, so possibly Jell-O shots! Green pancakes, green eggs, bacon, sausage and scones. Yes, scones. Katie wants to make scones and I'm not one to argue. And coffee and Bailey's. The plan is to be good and flushed in the face by the time we go to the bar around 11am. I love fake holidays centered around drinking.

I'll be in our nation's capital from the 19-22 with Josh. We're visiting Brian and Stacie & Bryan and possibly Obama if he can fit us into his busy sched. I just want to swing on the presidential swingset with Sasha and Malia, is that too much to ask? Other than that, we're doing some monuments and museums, and I think we're going to a pirate bar (!) and this excites me. Oh, and Josh and I are making shirts to wear on the road so when we stop and stretch and pump gas in the middle of Ohio we'll be stylin' wearing this on our chests:



I think I might add a crying bald eagle to the back.

Oh, I woke up at 9:09am this morning and sprinted around my house Home Alone style to get ready. As a result, I wore the shirt I slept in last night. A long sleeve Bucky the Badger t-shirt. I'm one classy lady.

I came into work today to find a bright and shiny new computer on my desk! I knew we were getting a new computer but I didn't know they were setting everything up last night. It was a pleasant addition to my day. It's the new iMac so it's all svelte and gorgeous and has a big display, which simultaneously makes both me and my desk look incredibly ugly. Me, because the screen is super shiny and reflective and I made the mistake of choosing this photo as my desktop and now whenever I glance at the darker part of the photo, the Bean half, I see myself and my unruly hair and the food in my teeth. Slight exaggeration but not too far off the mark. My desk, because I have things like a mini tree (that I won at the work holiday party) and googly creatures strewn about... hardly the home of a sophisticated piece of technology. It has a remote control. You know, when I want to set the mood with music from across the lab. Sexy.

Anyway! My weekend was fun. And so romantic. Okay, not romantic at all, but still a lot of fun. The lovely birthday girl Aja sent me a fish eye lens for Valentine's Day (cool how the birthday girl sent ME a present... I'm a jerk and she is awesome) so I've been having fun playing with that lately. THANKS, AJA!HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

My fake Valentine, Steve, and I were supposed to go to the movies on Saturday but every single movie was sold out. Well, I think we could have seen that Paul Blart: Mall Cop movie but I told Steve no. And then we tried to go bowling, but there was a two hour wait. We ended up going out for Thai food, and I was feeling adventurous and ordered my usual fare spicier than normal. Holy hell, my mouth was on fire. I drank nine glasses of water at dinner. Steve was amused. My bladder was not. Also, I unbuttoned my pants at dinner. I'm one classy broad.

On Saturday night Diana, Kristin and Kristin's friend Lisa came over for drinks with me and Katie. Then we went out on the town. A few PICTURES, because why not!


Here's Diana, Lisa, Katie and me at the bar. Kristin was off talking to some guy who was telling her she and him would make beautiful babies. Uh, ok. Also, you can't see my festive red heels in this picture. Bummer.


Tipsy roommate picture.


Mr. Roboto came on in the bar and I got SO excited about it for reasons unknown. I can't even blame alcohol. I just wanted to robot dance. Lucky for me, this guy I don't know wanted to as well!


Then we went home and got ready for bed. Do you like our sexy Valentine's Day lingerie?

On Sunday I went to my parents' house for dinner. Played with the dog. Went to the grocery store and spent one hundred and thirty stupid dollars on food. Not even fun food! Boring food like chicken breasts and celery! My stupid Triscuits cost more than four bones!! What gives?

Tonight I'm going to some class called "Belly, Butt and Thighs Bootcamp". I'm scared.