Eat…EAT!

No word from the project heads regarding the situation in Thailand.  I guess we’ll see tomorrow.

Gone again.

1) I swear to god, I am working on papers.

2) While working on said papers Gone Again by the ever fabulous (awesome, amazing, beautiful, profound, inspirational) Indigo Girls popped up on my random mix.  Now before you get yourself all-a-flutter about posting this sort of stuff on a travel blog, read the following lyrics:

I think I’ll bag that trip for two
And pack it up to Kakadu.
Honey, it’s not for the weather
Or the lack of loving you.
I got all this in between
Something I could not foresee.
All the deals I made don’t matter
If I can’t just let you be.

Gone again gone again
There ain’t no way I’m gonna let this heart mend
Gone again

I walked in King’s Cross for a while,
Gave a junkie girl a smile.
We both trade it in for danger
Or the company of strangers.
She said all her family
Was at the welfare agency,
Then she swindled my last twenty
For a kiss and some poetry.

If I don’t make Kakadu,
I’ll be at the Rainbow Room.
I’ll be courting some disaster
With the Melbourne wrecking crew.
Honey, all this is to say
That every dog don’t got its day,
If we take the love we’re given
And we throw it all away.

Gone again gone again
There ain’t no way I’m gonna let this heart mend
Gone again…

It’s about Australia!  Weee!

ZOMG! It’s the Special Sunday Roundup #10 – The Horrendously Long and Painfully Opinionated Edition

First I’d like to say:

O-motherfucking-BAMA!!! I laughed, I clapped, I drove my fellow students mad with my blathering.  I even got my BFF (LOLZ BRB WTF OMG ROTFLMAO TTYL!!!11!!1one!!111!) to vote.  All in all, a good day.  “If my happiness could have talked, it would have filled that genteel [department] with a defining roar.” -Nabakov (kinda.)

See? She voted! I MADE HER VOTE!!!

Well readers, its been 10 weeks, which means this little “roundup” project is one of my longest standing achievements.  What that says about my personality?  Erm…let’s not touch that one.

But the search terms keep getting better and better!

1. “Maximilian hell”
2. self proclaimed pseudo-intellectual (HA!)
3. preventing ramblings on presentations (HA!! x2)
4. herpes onsen (HA!!! 4D9 +2 charisma.  Everyone knows you get herpes from toilet seats.)
5. male beheading

What is up with the beheading hits though?  Really people, I enjoy pictures of dead things as much as the next homicidal, neurotic 24-year-old but really.  Really.  Like, ZOMG really. Stop it.  You’re freaking me out.

Moving along.

This week’s Dirty Little Pleasure is the absolutely fantastic “Margaret and Helen” Blog (link yoinked from the ever provocative feministing). I’ve always had a warm spot in my cold little heart for the older (and certainly wiser) folk of our society and the 82-year-old Helen is no exception.  Here’s a particularly snarky excerpt from a recent post:

I just don’t understand how your Howard can listen to that Rush Limbaugh each day.  I tuned into him yesterday and couldn’t believe it.  I mean, I know he is a Republican mouthpiece, I just didn’t realize we were dealing with Hoof and Mouth Disease.

After I cleaned up the tea that I’d snorted all over my keyboard and wiped away the tears of laughter running down my cheeks, I decided that I want to be just like Helen when I grow up; full of piss, vinegar and brains.  BRAAAIINNNSSS!!!

The brains over at bookslut are pumping out wonderful stuff as usual.  The video interview with Neil Gaiman is particularly fascinating.  I’ve been a big fan of the Sandman graphic novels for several years now and was decidedly skeptical of Gaiman’s cross-over into fiction though after reading American Gods on the plane to Australia, I was convinced otherwise.  We’ll see how Good Omens holds up.

Though her politics make my teeth hurt, Jen Lancaster is the second funniest author in The Official Dirt Warrior List of Authors that Everyone Should Read Because She Said So (number one?  Laurie Notaro) and here you can see why.

Now before I get crazy with the linkin’ I have to warn you that I’ve been holding onto these articles for a couple of weeks now (pre-election fever and whatnot) and have forgotten where I found half of them.  If you take any offence to this, feel free to insult me via the comments section.

Sci Am (just for you John) has a great article on eating and the brain.  Now that I’ve discovered the joy that is a “Tim Tam Slam” (thanks once again to Mark, my insufferably patient Australian friend and endless supplier of all things trivial and fantastic) – sucking hot tea through the chocolaty deliciousness that is a Tim Tam; the quintessential Australian biscuit (in Yank speak = cookie) – this article is especially intriguing. In the same vein, derby girls of the world rejoice!  Body size can be misleading.  Those thighs aren’t just for blasting through the pack you know…

A delicious morsel ready to be slammed.  Photo taken from tastywaffle.com

I have been pleasantly surprised at the prevalence of PEP (post-expose prophylaxis) campaigning in New South Wales, most notably through groups like ACON.  I had no idea PEP even existed until I started working for a hospital in the states and I think groups like ACON are providing a valuable service to the community in spreading the word.  What I find fascinating (and in the same moment, terrifying) is the outrage that many have for this sort of campaign, most often in the form of “why are we wasting money on people (most often read: gay men) who are not using protection?!” (and what of those who do use protection?  Condoms do break you know…) ect ad nauseum.  I hate these arguments.  Is the idea of having sex, protected or otherwise, so horrible that the people doing so deserve a potential lifetime of pain and slow lingering death for it?  And the whole “but the drugs are so expensive!” argument doesn’t hold up either, as the average cost of a lifetime of anti-HIV treatment can run you from a conservative $400,000 upwards of $700,000.  Then again, these are most often those who think homosexuality is a horrible sin and that sex is meant for procreation and not pleasure (still something I will never, ever, EVER understand).  A heaping bowl of wank if you ask me.

Speaking of wank, for all of my geek brethren out there, If the STI’s don’t scare you off (they sure do me!) check out sex tips for geeks (my two cents?  Screaming “AUSTRALOPITHECUS!!!” during orgasm is a sure-fire way to impress your partner).  Mind you, I find the whole “men are evolutionarily designed to want sex with a lot of women” argument (“not just one woman, a lot of women”) enormously suspect for reasons that I 1) am not qualified to explain without sounding like a half-wit and 2) there are far more intelligent folks in the field who do a much better job at explaining the concepts then I.  Want more on relationship shenanigans?  See also: the woes of heteronormative dating.

bones is teh sex

Cognitive Daily has a good article on Dan Ariely and rational vs. irrational decision making (John, John, are you listening?  John?  Listening?).  Ahh consumption, a delicious little sin.  Speaking of sin, Daniel Lende of Neuroanthropology (and now Sci Am?) fame writes a fascinating article about “studying sin”, anthropology and drugs. And while we’re on drugs, “roller derby is crack”.  Yes.  Yes it is.

If there’s one thing grad school has taught me, it’s that you cannot read too much Levi-Strauss.  Or ANY French theorist for that matter. (Yes, I’m being facetious – simmer down.)  You can, however, completely alienate yourself from the academic job market because of tattoos or piercings while still a graduate student.  Wait, wearing your lip-ring and 1/2″ ear plugs (I have both, by the way) to a job interview might send the “wrong message”?  NO WAY!  I’ve worked in a number of very professional positions (one was even in Japan where visible tattoos are far more troublesome than Australia or the US) and have had no problem with getting, keeping and otherwise performing at a job because of my personal adornment.  That being said, I don’t run around flashing my bits to everyone that happens by my desk.  Really though, I think people get their panties far too twisted when discussing body modifications – they’re not that bad.

And finally, for no real reason, Frida Kahlo still manages to rock my world on so many levels.  Viva la vida.

Kerfuffle!

Oh, I plan on it!