Back on the Airwaves

Well, that was my longest absence from this blog by far (eight months!). I apologize for the lapse. It got out from under me. I will return with some riveting content shortly, but for now I would just like to say: hello friends, I am back.

Even when I last posted, I hadn't caught you up on the juicy contours of my dating life or the state of American politics, and I certainly hadn't finished annotating and posting backlog playlists made for friends and lovers. I promise this and more if you stay tuned.

The Mr. Toad

My roommate's wonderful girlfriend gave me a bottle of Fernet Branca, because she realized she couldn't stand it. I set about to find a use for it other than the classic Fernet and Coke (which, incidentally, is huge in Argentina).

1/8th shot Fernet Branca (or thereabouts)
1 shot rye whiskey
shaken with ice
garnish with a twist of lime peel

It smells like a musky man's man just brushed his teeth and put on deodorant. The whiskey fills out the flavor, softening it with oak and warm grain flavors while the sharp, complex, herbal Fernet plays off of the spicy rye notes and, importantly, off the aroma of the lime peel. The woody incense qualities in Fernet's taste play nicely with the oak. This drink is not for the faint of heart, as Fernet is pretty intense and there's no real sweetness in there and peppery rye is a heck of a grounding ingredient, but I frankly think it's the best Fernet drink I've ever had, and Fernet is pretty fascinating.

Sarah suggested the name, as a shortening of the Disneyland feature "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride", because *faces camera with a plastic grin* "It's a wild ride!" So, oddly enough, credits go to the Excelsior House Tasting Team, even if I left Excelsior a year ago. I dedicate this drink to Aileen and her hatred of Fernet.

Not-Ends

In the tradition of Rob's... except not necessarily self-contained.

I really don't want to be the one to say it and I'll keep trying it just in case my tastebuds change, but I'd rather drink whiskey and eggnog separately than drink the two mixed together.

While by now it seems to be a truism that the actions of Lt. John Pike and UC Davis Chancellor Katehi's role "tarnished the reputation of the school", the event produced more positive exposure for the movement and for UC Davis than any other action possibly could have.

In the context of a relationship, it does not count as cuddling unless there is boob contact

While many disbelieve that human existence is doomed to be an awkward compromise, three excellent illustrations of that truth exist right under our noses-- jealousy, pain at childbirth (itself the result of an awkward anatomical compromise) and the fact that men are not multiorgasmic. This gives me a much clearer understanding of what heaven is supposed to be like.

I hated and despised Plato until someone pointed out the importance of his concept of ideal forms to Christianity (particularly Good vs Evil and Heaven), at which point I quickly began to realize how ubiquitous and fundamental Platonic theory is in modern thought.

The desire for conceptual elegance is among the greatest enemies of truth, but also among the most important tools for truth's discovery and conveyance.

Hippyism's ideology owes way too much to the aggressive moralism of Christianity to ever be truly at peace with Buddhism.

Somebody asked me if I had any black friends and I was like, "I had one until I stole his girlfriend." It was such a sucker question. I'm just happy I had a sucker answer on hand to reply with.

Technically, my old roommate Mereb is also black, but he's a second-gen Eritrean hippy. I feel like what people usually mean by "black" is having an African-American accent, which Mereb definitely does not have. Mereb just has a lisp.

The ancient Greeks admirably demonstrate to us how useful deities and religion are as language conventions even in the absence of belief, but contemporary social taboos among nonbelievers prevent us from making use of the gorgeous Christian-derived language conventions that are so common in nineteenth century writing.

Now, a quote from Moby Dick:
"The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable affliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. But being paid,--what will compare with it? The urbane activity with which a man receives money is really marvelous, considering that we so earnestly believe money to be the root of all earthly ills, and that on no account can a monied man enter heaven. Ah! How cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition!"

Beginning of Summer Update

Let me catch you up on my life:
I got fired from Monsanto in April. I agreed a month later to spend the summer in Louisiana doing property management for my family. In two days, I leave for southern California to visit (step-)family from South Carolina, then Saturday I leave for Wisconsin to visit maternal family for a week. From there I fly to Louisiana, where I will stay until the end of August (living without air conditioning or in-home internet access). When I get back I'll be moving to the Bay Area. With luck, I will have lined up a job there to start on. I've been dating Sarah for about six months now and she is presently looking for jobs in the Bay Area too. I'm unsure whether or not I will apply again to graduate school or indeed if I will remain in biology. I got fired because I essentially sucked at following molecular bio protocols.

This blog has been on my back burner for awhile and I apologize to you, my loyal readers. It's not for lack of ideas, but for preoccupation with life. Just as last September boasted a bumper crop of fresh material because I was freshly employed, had nothing to do and lots to write about, since April I have been unemployed and my future has been decidedly uncertain. I'd like to point out that this blog passed 5000 unique views and 100 posts a little while ago. This blog is not dying anytime soon, but be patient.

Oh, also, I just turned twenty four, so happy birthday to me. I definitely feel like I am in my mid-twenties at this point, which is something I couldn't say a year ago. According to my dad, I still have ten years before everything goes to shit physically.

Max's Warm Tonic for Colds

My dad infected the whole family with norovirus. Just when we thought it had burned itself out and I'd made it into the clear, I came down with symptoms when I woke up on Christmas Eve (nausea, sore throat, fever, headache, sleeping a lot). I felt better that night and enjoyed a thoroughly delicious Christmas dinner with family. I woke up Christmas morning at four am to puke and continued to puke until noon.

I made it back to Davis on Sunday and the worst is over, but I apparently got a cold simultaneously (for a second my dad thought my respiratory symptoms ruled out norovirus, but I just got a twofer), so now I have a cough. I made this up a while back as a general cold remedy. Cheers to those of you who also feel like crap.

Add a dollop of honey to a mug of water
Boil in microwave
(Optional) Add some kind of black tea
Squeeze in a slice of lemon or lime
Add a drop of angostura bitters (a full dash if you skipped the tea)

This was originally devised for someone who was morally opposed to tea, but I like a little caffeine in mine. Fun Fact: I've actually used a scaled up version of this for hydration on bike trips. Beats the crap out of water.

Waiting for the Bus

It's getting hot around here. Like approaching the 100's hot. I wait for the bus in the afternoon after work. When I can't find space on the only bench with shade, I sit on the sidewalk behind the structure in the shade. I'm the only person I've seen doing this, so far. It strikes me as a "me" thing to do, though it's even more characteristic of my sister Bri than me.

In contrast to Davis, Woodland has a lot of Mexicans. I've been listening to the world cup in Spanish on the radio while at work. Boy I've missed hearing Mexican-Spanish.

Why Having a Girlfriend is Awesome

Someone to go to the farmers market with

Physical contact

I'm allowed to stare.

Another kind of shampoo in my rotation

Lazy Saturdays

Help on Restaurant City

Cooking from recipes

My UC Davis Graduation

I graduated friday from UC Davis with a Bachelor of Sciences in Biochemistry and Molecular Biology. This Fall, I apply for graduate school, but right now I enter the troubled American workforce. I'm applying for lab-oriented jobs for the coming year in Davis to support myself and bolster my grad application.

However my fortunes turn out, I'm going to have a lot more time. Juggling heavy coursework, friends, worms, and romance has taken its toll on this blog. In the next few weeks I intend to post a series of college retrospectives.

The Thirtieth Hour

I pulled an all-nighter not for my essay, not for a stupid game I'm newly addicted to, but for the inspiration to write you this. Feel blessed. Actually don't. I was kidding.

I love the loopy feeling of being fucked up by fatigue. It might be my drug of choice if it weren't for the vague notion of my head slowly imploding that assures me with a whispering voice of the certitude that I will come crashing down tomorrow.

Candy tastes amazing and I'm hardly concerned about anything. Perhaps tellingly, my most pressing concern right now is the progress of the aforementioned pernicious game. I have the craziest ideas and then I notice they aren't that crazy. Everything's at once magnificent and dull. Like, one of these jelly beans tastes like carrots and it's wonderful.

My NPB professor is talking about the horizontal vs vertical tradeoff in sound localization and all I can think is, "Why doesn't the owl have three ears?"

A Slice of Good Friday Mania

Today is Good Friday and I feel good. Really good. One cup of coffee and I feel like a demigod: potent, wise and I can practically see Fortune's broad grin beaming down at me. If this is what cocaine feels like, I ought never to try it.

I'm surprised it took me this long to find coffee. My first tentative steps towards the drink left me jittery. Somehow, its effect changed once I drank it with frequency. My hat is off to the people who predicted that. A coffee addiction sounds like fun. I haven't acquired one yet, but I hear it takes a little time.

My neurobiology professor is talking about sodium channels and action potentials and all I can do is silently laugh at the the phrase "refractory period". I wonder if I'm the only one in class who finds that uproarious. I guess information transmission is a beautiful thing...

If I was born to be anything, it was a critic. I love to make fun of people. Of course, it's a sign of familiarity and affection, but that's always been a tough sell for people who didn't grow up in a family like mine. Maybe one of the hangups is the ambivalence implicit in my critiques-- I'm as likely to say something flattering without prompting as harsh. I impose objectivity on unusual circumstances and it throws people off.

New Year's Update

I've got a girlfriend. I've been dating Jillian Miller for a couple of months now and things are going very, very well. Those counting will realize that that makes Jill my first girlfriend, so on top of absolutely adoring her I am also flushed with the elation that comes when everything is brand new.

I'll be doing a lot of reading this quarter due to my humanities heavy course load. Good literature always makes me want to start writing. Not blogging, mind you, I've always wanted to write the next great American novel. I will too. I've already got the plot outline so now I'm just fleshing it out. It occurred to me that the basic outline is a straight rip from the Star Wars saga, but no worries, most literature is anyways.

After two months of riding Brandon's bike while I procrastinated fixing a simple flat, I'm finally back on the Ash Maiden. After Brandon's beautiful monstrosity, the Maiden feels like a toy in my hands. I forgot what it feels like to fly.

Halloween Note

So October's been a wild ride and I wanted you guys to know that I haven't forgotten about you. I've got a political post or two in the works that I'll make sure to publish before Tuesday. I leave for Santa Barbara today at noon to see Matt Wingert and Co and their school's allegedly magnificent festivities. I plan to dress as a zombie, in case you're wondering. Either way now is a poor time to write a blog because I have a million and a half things to do, including packing, so I bid you adios.

Three Seconds in the Life

I cross a street on my way to class. A girl, probably a freshman, appears disgruntled that I would walk out in front of her bike, a few feet within her set trajectory. Without changing my stride, I stare said freshman down with a glare that plainly says, "I dare you to hit me you ignorant noob." She tweaks her course a bit and passes behind me. I go to class.

Curse these freshman. Talking to my roommate Greg on the subject of our campus's present affliction he suddenly said, "They're like children!". Ha ha ha... ha... *sigh*.

Summer in Davis

I'm a little bored and anxious up here in Davis (simultaneously and chronically, as it should be). I'm sending my acceptance to a professor of cell biology for a research position. My garden is (mostly) planted and there happens to be a blackberry bramble nearby that we've been picking. When Caius visited for my birthday he made me a pie from scratch. Since then I've made two more. My roomate's brother is visiting. In an effort to fight the heat-induced lethargy and boredom of not having anything to do in Davis except hang with my family equivalent, I have decided to take up photography and... nightrides. I photographed a fair chunk of senior year and have since been eternally grateful to myself for doing so. My camera has sat unused for the last three years. I realize I need a photographic document of my life in college beyond a few people's party pics that I hardly remember and that certainly don't flatter me. I inaugurated this endeavor with a photo shoot of the Ash Maiden and I. As soon as I find the camera's chord I'll send a couple to you. Now nightrides, I have decided, are defined as spontaneous (or pretend spontaneous) nocturnal bike rides without a predetermined objective. And of course I ride like the wind. Yesterday Brandon and his brother Spencer and I went to the farmer's market and bought peaches (only from the best stall and of three different varieties) and a beautiful smelling melon. The combination is completely intoxicating. This afternoon I felt compelled to read Goblin Market out loud for the millionth time-- this time to Spencer. If I do say so I think my renditions have improved. This morning I did my third radio show of the summer (Krautrock) and Spencer came in and read a Grimm's fairy tale on air.