The Curious Incident of the Trex in the Night

February’s Contemplations and Ruminations – Part Two

2011-02-25T12:51:00.000-08:00

Laughing Out Loud

Question: What should you do when one of your close friends starts using “LOL” in casual text conversation?

Answer:

Sadly, this question has become very relevant to me in the past week, ever since a fellow compatriot of mine has decided that LOL-ing is the best thing to come around since kettle corn.

For now, I will allow him to remain anonymous. (I will say, however, that his initials contain the letters P, T, and S. Also, he’s one of my cousins. Whoa, I just realized that if this unnamed person married someone with the last name Dillard, his initials would become PTS-D).

This whole debacle started at 3:25PM on March 18^th, 2011 with the following conversation:

*please note that "bbming" refers to Blackberry Messaging - I guess it works long distance from Mexico

Despite my blatant disapproval, the next day it continued…

I’m not sure what it is about LOL that bothers me so much. Perhaps it’s the fact that people use it to make potentially serious statements seem ambiguously lighthearted. In a way, it’s a lack of commitment on their part. They’re not sure how the receiver of their message will feel about what they’re saying, so they throw in LOL at the end in case they need to play it off as a joke. E.g: “Susan, I’m head over heels in love with you. LOL!” This way, if Susan is like “WTF??” the entire thing can be brushed aside as a harmless ruse.

I think it also bothers me because it’s not something that I would ever say in normal speech, unlike “Oh my god” and “For your information” and “On my way” all of which are statements that I commonly acronym-ize in my textual conversations. I can’t imagine ever saying “laugh out loud” to someone in a face-to-face conversation. Instead, if someone said something that was actually funny, I would probably just laugh. On the other hand, if someone said something to me that was not really funny but intended it to be funny and I didn’t laugh but said, “laugh out loud” I think that would be pretty confusing for that person (just as this poorly written sentence is probably sort of confusing to you).

Furthermore, when someone LOL’s me via text, I’m often left wondering if they intended it as a command or if they were just describing to me what they were doing. In other words, are you telling me that I should laugh out loud right now or are you letting me know that, after carefully considering what I’ve written, you’ve decided to laugh out loud? How are you even texting and laughing at the same time? Are you doing all this while driving too?? I mean, that’s just dangerous.

If it’s the former, please stop telling me what to do. If it’s the latter, I really don’t care whether or not the people around you can hear you laugh. They probably don’t know what you’re laughing about anyway unless you’ve just read them my really funny text message. In which case, perhaps a more aptly suited acronym would be AGOUALOLAYTMRN, which translates to ‘a group of us are laughing out loud at your text message right now’. But, if you do ever receive this in a text, just be sure they’re not trying to make a reference to famed emergency room nurse, Samantha Agoualolaytm, R.N.

I’ve remained adamant in my requests that this behavior ceases. I’ve tried anger, I’ve tried pleading, I’ve even tried to confront this person using the skills I learned last semester in my interpersonal communications course* (see below). Alas, all of my efforts have been futile and the usage of LOL by this person continues to this day.

*1. Identify the behavior that you need clarification 2. present the person with two definitive reasons that might explain his or her behavior 3. finish your statement with an open-ended question like "is it something else?" to leave them room for further explanation

And so, this blog post is my last resort. You leave me no choice but to humiliate you via public forum. I do apologize to Grace as she is an innocent bystander. Although, apparently she LOL’s a lot via BBM, FYI…so perhaps she’s actually not that innocent. Now that my voice has been heard, I see this playing out in one of two ways. Either the perpetrator gets the hint and stops LOL-ing me. Or, I’ve just made my last mistake and in the months to come I’ll find myself being awoken by 3AM text messages that just say “LOL, LOL, LOL.”

IMPORTANT MESSAGE (sorry to disrupt tracy's 10 part february series)

2011-02-22T19:12:00.001-08:00

A few of you have expressed concern as a result of most recent post. I want to state, for the record, that I have not been attacked by a mountain lion. I am safe.

On an unrelated note, I just found out that one of my acquaintances and life-long enemies (an unemployed Capricorn named M. Nagelmann) has the same amount of blog followers as I do. This makes me feel frustrated and apprehensive.

Please accept my most sincere and grateful request that you follow my blog if you don't already. Let's get these numbers up for the 2011 campaign*).

Thank you,
Moderator-at-large

*more on this to follow

Hi there! Welcome and thank you for stopping by…do you have any questions?

2011-02-22T17:02:00.000-08:00

I often find that February is a month of deep self-reflection for me. I thought it would be pertinent and informative for the public-at-large if I documented some of this month’s ponderings.

And so, without further ado, I would like to present:

“February’s Contemplations and Ruminations – a 10 part series”

This series will be presented here in full and can also be seen in its edited form at the Santa Barbara Museum of Modern Art from February 28th to March 7th. Opening night gala and red carpet begins @7PM, Feb 28. For more information please visit www.sbmoma.org. Press contact: Mary Stuartson (805) 453-2675.

Part One.

Q: Will I be ready and able to defend myself when I am attacked by a mountain lion?

A:
For those of you that are avid hikers in the Santa Barbara Foothills, you are probably already aware that there is a 95% chance that you are going to encounter and possibly be attacked by a mountain lion at some point in your hiking career. Well, that might not be exactly true, but in public speaking that’s what we call the ‘attention getter.’ Regardless of the actual likelihood of a head to head (or should I say claw to jugular) fight with a puma, I think it’s important that you know some basic mountain lion facts and defense tips.

The absolute most important thing I can say to you is: always be aware of your surroundings. When mountain lions attack, they are usually coming at you from behind. They are often perched up in a tree or waiting for you at a rock outcropping. It is essential that you are always scoping out the trees ahead of you whilst you are on your hike (this can be done by utilizing Dan Beckman’s 3-point tree scoping triangulation technique). But looking ahead might not be enough, when I’m hiking I usually take 100 steps facing forward and then turn around and back-peddle for 25 steps. This allows me to take in a 360-degree view of the terrain I am about to cover as well as the trail behind me. Remember, a mountain lion attack is not the same as a velociraptor attack which involves 3 velociraptors (one coming at you from the front and the other two on either flank) and is basically impossible to survive. When you’re facing a mountain lion, it’s going to be a one on one type scenario that you just might be able to pull off if you’ve got your wits about you.

If you are unable to bring your pitbull with you because she is recovering from budget-breaking knee surgery, please do consider carrying a knife (a good example of an appropriate knife is pictured above). The entire time you’re hiking you should visualize yourself being attacked by a mountain lion in a variety of situations so that you are as prepared as possible. For example, let’s say you’ve just turned a blind curve on Tunnel Trail and you’re hiking on a 25º angle when all of the sudden you’re pummeled into by a 112-pound female cougar. She has pounced on you from a perch in a tree 10 meters behind you and 5 meters above you, moving at a velocity of 9.2 m/s and, by my calculations, hitting you with about 4800 lbs of force. In this case, you will most likely be knocked off of your feet and you and the mountain lion will roll and tumble for about 25 meters. These are the most crucial moments in terms of chances of survival! Because you’ve been visualizing this exact scenario, you know that you have 2 seconds to reach into your pocket, pop open your knife, and try to do as much damage as possible. Once the fight goes past this point, it’s really just up to the stars whether or not you’ll make it down the mountain alive.

By no means is it my intention to frighten you or deter you from enjoying a leisurely hike on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I’m just trying to turn you into a more aware consumer of nature. As the boy scouts always say: “Always be prepared when hiking alone in the Santa Barbara foothills – AKA the Northern Pacific Man-Eating Cougar Greenbelt.” (Their other lesser know motto is: "For christ sake, we should sell cookies too!).

(these tips are adapted from my new book – Basic Mountain Lion Defense Tips, Random House Publishing 2011®)

THIS IS ONLY A TEST (A fall on top of a fall)

2010-12-16T18:16:00.001-08:00

Technical blogging difficulties have caused me to post what some may refer to as a "test blog." Please do excuse any inconvenience.

Incidentally, I fell off my bike today while trying to ride up a steep hill (I was clicked in and got trapped between the cement and my bike...of course I couldn't get up and there was a car coming). This happened to me once before in front of Los Banos. Compton was there, she saw it.

Dear Sir, in response to your blog...(aka, this answers so many questions)

2010-10-06T18:12:00.000-07:00

The below post has hurt me in so many ways but also explains a lot to me about how I’m actually viewed by the outside world. I thought that my past campaigns to end prejudice against the dinosaurs still living within the confines of the U.S. borders had successfully put a stop to any anti-dinosaur sentiments still lingering in the lay community. As you have just read, however, I couldn’t be more wrong.

I would like to embark on a journey with you to explore some of the reasons why dating me may or may not be a dangerous (if not life-threatening) game. I would like to present some truths that I once held about myself (until reading the above blog 20 minutes ago) that have since been entirely negated by this propaganda campaign that was so obviously directed at me and my ‘dating life’.

[A prerequisite blog post for the following blog post can be found at this link:
http://mingle2.com/blog/view/dating-tyrannosaurus]

Before I begin, however, I feel the need to set the record straight. I just want to say that I’ve NEVER won best costume (probably because of the nonchalant attitude I always take towards Halloween that almost certainly turns to panic and distress on October 31st and leads to an expensive day-of-the-holiday trip to American apparel), I absolutely adore taking funny photo booth photos (rarely with blood on my face), my current unpaid internship would never pay for a trip to Tokyo, and my poor hand-holding skills are the result of a previous wrist injury and not due to my outlandish height. I’ll admit, the part about being bad at talking about my feelings is true but we can all agree that asteroids were a thing of the past.

Now that that’s out of the way, I will now attempt to discuss those “truths that I once held about myself:”

Part A: Superficial reasons why I think I’m still single:

1. I don’t have the best track record when it comes to personal hygiene (in other words, I’m this generations’ [person] in a van down by the river)

2. I have professional training at the graduate level but practical experience at the hostess level.

3. My nose to face ratio is about 3:1.

4. I talk a lot a game when it comes to my basketball skills and my desires to go backpacking but rarely walk the walk.

5. I’ve never successfully climbed up a rope using my arm strength only.

6. I unintentionally try to be as awkward as possible when I first meet someone that I potentially may or may not like (how’s that for a noncommittal sentence...speaking of noncommittal...see below)

Part B: Emotional and/or abstract reasons why I’m still single and/or want to be single:

1. I can up and fly to a paleontology conference in Southern Montana on a whim without having to break plans with my ‘parnter’ (nothing beats the look on those archeologists’ faces when a 30 foot tyrannosaur strolls into the room).

2. I don’t have to explain to a significant other why I’m tired today because I was up all night last night nursing a bottle of glenlivet, watching episode after episode of true blood, and eating only the streusel topping part off the coffee cake I just made earlier that evening.

3. On a scale of 1 to emotionally mature I’m about a 2.5.

4. The relationship models in my family leave something to be desired.

5. I once had a private blog with myself (you’ll know what that means) entitled: “You know you had a crappy ex-boyfriend when...” (...you've had a burrito thrown at your head for no apparent reason, etc.”

6. In my opinion, my single status is entirely appropriate whilst I’m still recovering from aforementioned “unmentionable” past occurrences (see #5).

7. I love taking physical risks (e.g. bare-foot puddle jumping in murky ponds of an unknown depth) but I’m totally terrified of taking risks that might leave me feeling emotionally vulnerable.

In conclusion...(aka, enough already!)
Before reading the now notorious ‘mingle2’ blog I had deluded myself into thinking (with the help of weeks of intensive psychotherapy) that it’s important to spend time figuring out the you in who you are before letting yourself depend on another person (and vice-versa). (Apparently I’m a school-obsessed pseudo-alcoholic with a love/hate relationship with my dog and an unhealthy obsession with the people that are obsessed with finding extraterrestrial life (e.g. SETI...look it up, it’s amazing). And hey, it’s only taken me 3.5 years of alone time to figure that shit out.

I have spent so much time convincing myself of the reasons why the above reasons are valid explanations as to why I am a GF with no BF when in actuality this anti-Trex blog has been circulating for over two years with an untold readership completely unbeknownst to yours truly. All those times I met someone new and excitedly said; “Hey I’m Trex but some people call me Tracy” instead of thinking to themselves “hmm, well that’s interesting. A dinosaur! I’ve never met a dinosaur but would really like to get to know her for who she is and not what she is” they were actually thinking about the 9 reasons they shouldn’t date me. How’s that for a glass dating ceiling.

And so, the moral of this incredibly long-winded blog is...
If you too are a long time singler (LTS) that’s ready to get back into the dating game (DG*)...stop wasting your time with self-reflection mumbo jumbo or half-hearted attempts at improving your interpersonal skills and instead spend at least 4-5 hours a day sitting on your laptop scouring the internet for over-generalized blog posts that are possibly directed at a person of your similar stature. Only then will you be able to move on and a find true happiness.

Sincereley,
Trex (and proud to be one)

*not to be confused with the popular Santa Barbara coffee shop the Daily Grind. Although, based on the amount of attractive, pseudo-hipster, and yet possibly single people that frequent this establishment (unless, of course they forgot to bring any cash) it is a possible conduit for your return the dating game

Proposed New July 17th Holiday

2010-07-17T14:39:00.000-07:00

I’d like to make a motion to officially change July 17th from “World Day for International Justice” to “World Day for Sending Text Messages without Fixing Awkward Phone-Induced Auto-Corrects.”

(or WDSTMFAPIAC for short…but not to be confused with World Day for Stopping Terrorists from Manifesting Frightening Attacks on People in Asian Countries which is on April 7th)

It has been one year to the day (give or take a few months) since my venerable sister, Annie Quail*, sent me the infamous ‘the photo albums are in the living room underneath the yak’ message that sent me into a panic searching for yak that was not in the living room when I checked and thus had obviously wandered off. Annie’s inability and unwillingness to spell check her text messages has caused me more grief and mental strife than I care to admit. However, in an attempt to be a bit more of a positive and accepting person, I’d like to create this holiday in order to recognize the humor that these so-called mis-texts can sometimes create rather than dwell on the pain.

(Incidentally, even the ‘yak’ text had a happy ending as it resulted in Annie’s and my realization that a yak was just what we were missing in our lives. We ended up obtaining a yak last August…her name is Alicia and she’s a bit of an aggressive eater but otherwise an acceptable companion...a Samwise Gamgee of our day, if you will.)

So, please join me in the celebration of this new and important holiday (justice smustice!) by submitting your favorite auto-corretcted missed texts to me by this evening at 11:59PM. Winners will be announced via blimp message.

Proper format is as follows:

1. Intended text: “Hey Annie, what are you and baby up to today?”

2. Auto-corrected/sent text: “Hey Annie, what are you and Beverley up to today?”

3. Your emotional response: This made me feel happy and also curious about when I was going to meet Annie’s new friend Beverely.

I thank you for your consideration and timely response.

*names have been changed to protect Annie Chase’s anonymity

This Hiatus Ends Now/Six Blogs-in-Progres for your Reveiw

2010-07-05T16:22:00.000-07:00

I deftly apologize for my inconsiderate blogging break. I've just returned from a long journey abroad during which time I was unable to access the internet.

I'm not ready to jump right back into things but here are some possible blogs that I may tentatively be working on in the near to distant future.

Any feedback will be negated and/or ignored.

1. honestly, your dance moves are really getting in the way of my tetris-playing/why can't every night end with a grand slam breakfast at denny's?

2. tips on riding your scooter after minor surgery

3. in addition to being an avid (pathological?) birdwatcher, turns out my uncle geoff is also an adept Somalian scam artist

4. my love for robert pattinson is starting to affect my job performance

5. i've decided to run for governor of california in November...your financial and emotional support in the coming months would be greatly appreciated (please visit www.trex2010/worlddomination.com to pledge your support...paypal accepted)

6. Do it yourself yardwork with Lidia and Tracy: this week we'll show you how to build a garden box and re-brick your outdoor barbecue pit

Thank you,
Tracy

Average-Sized Dinousaur Seeks Partner in Crime/I LOVE it when people write LOL after everything they say/MUST be willing to buy timeshare together

2010-01-23T14:58:00.000-08:00

My past experience with dating websites has been abysmal at best. It's probably because I refuse to actually go out on dates with people (in real life or virtually). I'm hoping that I'll meet my match on match.com (no pun intended! actually, i wonder if that's why it's called match.com...hmm??)

If you know anyone that isn't yet desperate enough to try their hand at online dating, please forward the following info to them along with my email address. Thanks for your help with this difficult matter. These are trying times people...

BuggyBliss's profile:
Of all the usernames match. com could have picked for me, they went with buggybliss. Sadly, I was way to lazy to think of something on my own so I just went for it. Now I guess I have to go buy a buggy which I really can't afford right now, perhaps I can just lease one. If anyone knows of any good buggy dealerships please send me their info.

Anyway, I digress. I'm brand new to match. com and so far I've really enjoyed getting the website's automatic match emails that say things like..."He has the same birth month as you" or "Like you, he lives on the earth." What are the chances!? (1/12 and 1/1). I decided to join said dating website because I've realized how terrible I am at first time dating interactions/awkward life moments. I usually make things 11 to 12 times more awkward than they need to be, thus making it a bit difficult for me to get to know someone right off the bat.

A typical day for me usually involves...waking up (like you, he also wakes up in the morning), going for a hike with my dog/the light of my life, riding my bike to class, going to class, riding my bike home from class, taking my dog for a run, studying, eating (finally, I was so hungry all day!), and then watching a few old episodes of the office. When I'm not busy with ridiculous amounts of school work (I'm just finishing up my masters at Bezerkely in public health), I enjoy short walks on the beach, snowboarding, swimming, backpacking, jumping, cooking, traveling to distant lands, taking bad pictures of boring things, charging my cell phone, and hanging out with my new niece.

I would love to meet someone who has a good sense of humor and doesn't mind having long conversations about how dangerous chimpanzees are (they should REALLY not be kept as household pets).

In response to your barrage of questions

2009-12-04T16:12:00.000-08:00

It seems that my most recent post (see post below) has caused a bout of mass hysteria and confusion in the lay community. Please allow me to clear up some important points and answer some of your more pressing questions...

1. Yes, the craigslist link is an actual ad that I, the blogger formerly known as Trex, posted to the missed connections section
2. The women in question (the 'hot girl on bike' if you will) was a Megan Compton look alike (could have been a body double...not sure if there have been any recent assassination attempts on Megan) that I accidentally hit on from across state street while I was walking a stray dog named Stella
3. No, I do not yet have a green feather but will be sure to pick one up
4. No, I am not gay (although, statistically and genetically speaking, it would make sense)
5. No, I do not really like the band Staind
6. Yes, if you demand that I retire from blogging, I really have no argument

And so, after a long and tumultuous run, I hear by step down from my post as 'Best Blogger within a 25 foot radius of the 1800 block of Chapala st.'

I'm sorry for any pain, frustration, or confusion I may have caused.

I am officially shunning myself.

Sincereley,
Distraught and Concerned in Santa Barbara

Do you ever get embarassed when you yell at someone that you think is your friend but turns out to be a total random

2009-12-04T14:28:00.000-08:00

Instead of hiding in shame, I've discovered a more constructive way to deal with my embarrassment...

http://santabarbara.craigslist.org/mis/1495254918.html

How I overcame IABPDD

2009-10-19T13:21:00.000-07:00

In the past two months I’ve noticed that, upon opening certain text messages or emails, I start to feel slightly nauseated, my eyes twitch, and my left hand goes numb. I recently initiated a massive epidemiological investigation to try to determine what exact exposure is leading to my frightening symptoms. After careful observation, I’ve come to the conclusion that there is a direct link between my symptoms and any emails or MMS text messages that have a picture of my sister’s baby attached.

This extremely disruptive disorder, which I have so aptly named 'Insanely Adorable Baby Picture Distraction Disorder' has been found to only respond to the following treatments:

high doses of intravenous interferon gamma
blocking your sisters' email address and phone number
cloning yourself so that you can move home and see said baby everyday but still "graduate" from school

This last option, however, is a very high risk procedure; what happens if your clone back in Berkeley gets a boyfriend and you stay single back at home…what does this say about the real you? (more on this in next weeks blog: “The Pros and Cons of Cloning Yourself”)

Please refer to the picture below to see if you too are a sufferer of this terrible affliction. (More info on support groups will be posted tomorrow).

Oh Berkeley, How I've Missed You/I'll Wait a Few More Days Before Driving My Car into that Bridge Embankment/The Slide that Saved the Day

2009-09-03T00:02:00.000-07:00

(Please pardon the somewhat graphic nature of this post...Sarah, you're in high school now so I guess you should know that sometimes people say bad words in real life).

The other day, I was hopping on my bike to leave campus when an older gentleman approached me, paused, gave me a funny look, and then said; "Ummm....sexual intercourse??"

I pondered his proposition for a moment and then replied in a similar fashion; "Ummm....that's extremely rude of you, sir."

In response to my somewhat justified answer to his question he said, and I quote; "I KNEW that you would say something like that, you fucking slut, whore." And then, before I could even apologize for being so painfully predictable, he walked away...

The following day, I was on campus again, returning to my car after sitting in a oven-like computer lab printing stuff for class. As I walked back to my car...hot, sweaty, hungry, and cranky...I was thinking about how nice it was going to be to sit in my car, blast the AC and listen to some sweet tunes. Alas, as soon as I opened the door to my vehicle, I had a painful flashback of this past Christmas when my car window was smashed in Santa Barbara and a multitude of my things were stolen. The only difference being the fact that, this time, I was parked on a busy street, in the middle of the day, and there was nothing in my car (except the iPod that was tucked away in the center console, which was, naturally, stolen). BASTARDS!And as if Berkeley had not yet made me feel welcome enough, two nights ago I got a triple wammy (strangely, all three via email...talk about the stars aligning).

As it were, this Monday night I got the following 3 emails:

1. Email from my current landlord/vacation rental proprietor saying she wanted to rent out a larger portion of her house and that I was welcome to stay as long as I was okay with paying an extra $700 a month...in other words, I have to move out October 1st

2. Email from my ex-landlord (by whom I was renting out a "furnished" house while he and his family were out of the country for a year)...attached was a THREE PAGE, single-spaced, Word document explicitly detailing how disrespectful and impolite it was of me to move around all the furniture in their house and put their crap down in the garage and, as a result, they would not be returning the remainder of my security deposit (please see photo below to get a sense of the condition they left their house in for me to move in last year)...in other words, see you on Judge Judy a-holes (actually, Uncle Geoff, we could have a mock Judge Judy trial for practice, you are, after all, a lawyer...Megan, you should be there too).
(not-so-empty kitchen drawer)

3. Email from my mom saying she accidentally opened a piece of mail from Geico for me which said they were canceling my policy as of October 5th as a result of a 2007 accident and 2 tickets. I must say though, this one did sort of make me smile as I remembered one of those tickets which I received on my way to Tahoe this past winter...after getting lost and then finding one of the highways closed, I ended up having to drive all the way around the lake to get Tahoe City...by 2AM, after driving for 6 hours, I was a bit delirious and had my music up as loud as possible in an effort to stay awake. Apparently, I was going a bit over the speed limit and I drove for over a mile with a cop behind me, sirens on, before I realized I was being pulled over. He had to call for backup and by the time he came to my car window, there were 4 cop cars behind me and about 8 or so cops. He asked me about six times, "how much have you been drinking, how much pot have you smoked, what prescription drugs are you on??" Sadly, I wasn't on any of the above...if I had been, at least then I would have had a better excuse then just being a total idiot (well, I guess either scenario is pretty idiotic). As the saying goes, friends don't let friends drive blond.

I felt prepared to write this blog today because I knew that my story could end on a happy note. For me, salvation came, as it so often does, in the form of a playground meant for children ages 2-5. Regardless of what my birth certificate says, I've always thought of myself as a child aged 2-5 (incidentally, the playground in question has a sign that reads "For Children Ages 2-5; Parent supervision recommended"...hmm, really, just recommended? That make sense, it sounds totally safe for a 2 year old to walk to a park alone and swing on the monkey bars).

I will not go into too much detail here...this is one of those cases where videos speak louder than words. And so I leave you with the following...

And I bid you goodnight...

You Know You're Being Productive at Work When...

2009-07-24T15:26:00.000-07:00

You are having facebook conversations about fake family reunions with your mom from your dog's perspective...

Jeanne Chase
Friend Requested by Stella
Today at 2:01pm

Message
Stella,
I am not sure I know who you are, but interestingly, we are starting a Chase family reunion in the Black Hills as I speak. What family of Chase's are you related to?
Jeanne

Stella Chase
Today at 3:23pm
Hmm, Jeanne eh? That name sort of sounds familiar...if you posted a PICTURE maybe I would have a better idea of who the hell you are. Actually, now that I think of it, perhaps you are somehow related to a dog I used to mutilate...I think his last name was Chase but I'll have to refer back to my records. If it turns out we are somehow connected...I would LOVE to attend the Black Hills Reunion. In terms of my lineage, my great great grandfather was John Arbuckle Chase III and his wife was named Susan B. Anthony. My parents are Trex Margaret Chase and Gepetto Rocko Anderson (they aren't married and my mother decided to give me her last name instead of my father's for tax purposes.)
Hope this clears some things up for you,
Stella

Summer Speed Blogging

2009-07-16T16:57:00.000-07:00

(Not to be confused with Winter Speed Skating…totally different thing).

Oh my god oh my god oh my god. Sorry Blog, it’s been so long since we’ve last spoken!

Well, a lot has happened since my last dead baby possum update…in fact, I’m going to have to revert to the days when we did things in outline format (just like when I wrote my hard-hitting report on Hernando De Soto (famed Italian explorer) in the fifth grade). I actually have a lot of really interesting stories about my childhood (especially from when I lived in Summerland but nobody ever seems to let me finish that one).

(IMPORTANT NOTE: I have tried very hard to format this blog so that proper indents were displayed...alas, blogger.com is sort of flukey. Thus, my outline may seem convoluted at best. I'm sincerley sorry. I can send you a more formal word document in case you wanted to print this out).

HEADLINES:

A.I’m pregnant
a.Wait no, that’s my sister
i.Yes, she’s doing great - thanks for asking
ii. No, I have not yet learned how to get around the baby-proofed cabinet
drawers in the kitchen

B. I’ve mastered the art of acting like I’m doing work at work when I’m actually doing nothing
a. This blog is case in point
b. Work is really fun at the public health lab…ESPECIALLY if you like POOP
i. Everybody knows I like poop
1. I just realized that I’m a sucky outline writer (you probably figured that out at A.a)

C. One of the best parts of my job is receiving emails from our office
assistant like the following:
a. “Hey Cyndy, I’ll work on the bleachy thingy tomorrow, but I did you a
favor and got you 10,000 new lab requests (2000 for scratch paper, and
8000 for toilet paper)….Let me know if you need anything else.! -Jin Nim
b. explanation: I’m putting in an order thru my lab for 80 gallons
of bleach…it should arrive just before my time is up here so I’m
going to take it with me and sell it on the black market (bad joke
interlude: all that bleach is really gonna turn it into a white
market!)

D. I’ve gotten obsessed with the idea that I can actually do a triathlon
a. This idea is in no way based in reality
b. 7AM pilates is my worst nightmare
c. I took my first fall on my bike last night while clipped in
i. Megan was there…she saw it
ii. Luckily I landed on some soft grass
iii. This occurred right on Cabrillo Blvd.
1. there were myriad cars driving by…a lot of which were probably
operated by legitimate athletes because we were just on our way
home from Night Moves
2. I got stuck with my bike on top of me and couldn’t get my foot
clipped out
3. this was one of those top 10 embarrassing moments for me
a. can’t really put it in my top 5…if you knew me you’d know
why
i. you probably actually do know me if you’re reading
this

E. Stella is thriving at Astrocamp
a. I’m able to send her emails but she can’t write back
b. I’m pretty sure she’s learning a lot about space
c. I just hope that when she returns she will not want to become an astronaut
i. Actually, then she would FINALLY HAVE A JOB

F. Sailing class starts this Saturday
a. I’m sure there will be more on this in a future blog titled, “How I crashed
a 42 foot sailboat and almost drowned in the Santa Barbara Harbor”

F. Drinks of choice this summer
a. Old fashioned’s
b. John Daly’s
c. Whiskey, water, and wine (in one glass)

G. A picture is worth a thousand words
a. Please see attached (obviously)

Sincereley,

Thriving Scientist

Yet Another Possum Murder that Has Yet to Be Avenged or Dead Baby Possum Update 3

2009-05-11T16:28:00.000-07:00

WARNING: this blog contains images that some readers may find disturbing (others may find them quite entertaining) (and still, there are others that may be completely indifferent and unperturbed)

This morning, in my backyard, I happened upon the grisly and yet increasingly common scene that is pictured below.

Another possum dead.
Another life taken before it really even started.
A perpetrator still on the loose.

The frequent appearances of dead baby possums in my backyard is becoming, in my own brilliant mind, one of the great unsolved mysteries of the 21st century.

Here are the facts...they are indisputable:

1. There have been 4 murders that have occurred in my back yard to date.
2. All of the victims have been less than 1 year of age.
3. All of the victims have been either female or male.
4. The night that each murder occurs, Stella is usually heard (by my own person) to be awkwardly barking at something or someone; I say awkward because it is not a bark of joy, fear, or anger, but rather one of innocent curiosity.

From the above facts I have deduced the following:

A small mythical creature called a leprechaun has been sneaking into my yard and battling against its greatest known enemy, the baby possum.

Clearly, Stella’s curious bark is but a reaction to the strange scene she witnesses on some nights when I let her out to go to the bathroom. I am more than certain that Stella is not the perpetrator herself; we all know that she has long been a friend to the possum's (just as Gandalf is a friend to the hobbits!)

I will be sure to parlay the evidence that I have so painstakingly collected to the proper authority.

If you have any other information, I have set up an emergency hotline where anonymous information can be left: 1-800-DEADMARSUPIAL

Thank you for your time.

Does someone have a personal vendetta against me...or pehaps I have a secret admirer?

2009-04-27T20:39:00.000-07:00

The evidence stands as such (Megan, please read in great detail):

Since I moved to Berkeley, I have had both my camper shell (see an earlier blog) and, more recently, my bike seat stolen (I tried to ride my bike the other night sans seat...it only took me a (painful) moment to realize that a crime had been perpetrated).

Either someone out there hates me and is enjoying it every time I have to spend money that I don't have on Replacement Vehicular Accessories (RVAs).

OR (the more likely scenario): I have a secret admirer that is assembling all of the necessary parts to create a one-of-a-kind T-REX Mobile. They will most likely be presenting me with said car sometime in the next 2 weeks. At this time, they will also reveal their true identity.

I will keep you posted.

Before I was a werewolf I was Dyf painting

2009-04-06T20:36:00.000-07:00

(Please note, this is the #2 installment of the commercially-sanctioned BBC blog entries that I have agreed (contractually) to write)
(Warning: this blog is rife with introspectively used vocabulary words (see: this sentence))

Before specifically addressing the topic at hand, I would like to, for the moment, delve into the notion that I have a bit of a history of purporting to be something that I'm not (e.g. dinosaur, IRA member/potato-famine survivor, frat boy, Bret from flight of the conchords, etc.).

I have recently come to the painful conclusion that my desire to be someone other than myself is a way for me to mask the sorrow that I feel when I reflect on my somewhat boring day to day life (as in, if you can't find me spooning with with my most probable life-partner Stella, I'm probably studying in Barnes and Nobles while debating whether or not see a movie by myself next door at the Emeryville AMC theater with one of my 10 free movie passes that I received as a credit card reward). Don't get me wrong here though, I'm certainly not complaining, just searching for some sort of reasonable explanation. And it's not as if my life isn't interspersed with the occasional exciting holiday and vacation activities (e.g. nighttime zip-lining in Whistler or 4AM unplugged, solo keyboard playing jam sessions) (see below).

Sadly, today things progressed to the point of: "if [insert exciting event here] happened to me, I would write a blog like this [see below]:

"Staying Strong in the Face of Adversity: How to Cope with a Severed Middle Toe"

I was riding my bike today (with Stella in tow), calmly enjoying a sunny afternoon and trying not to pereseverate on my pending infectious disease exam. All of the sudden, I was distracted by a semi-cute guy driving a purple Isuzu SUV. In the midst of debating with myself over whether or not a guy can still be considered cute if he drives a purple Isuzu SUV, I ran into a nearby curb, foot first, trapping my left middle toe between said curb and previously unmentioned bike pedal. This effectively sheared my toe clean off.

Luckily, there was a gentleman nearby in his front yard doing some gardening. I approached the man, toe in hand, and calmly asked him for a bowl of ice..."Whatever for?" he asked. And I responded; "It's just that, I've severed my toe off and, as they say, 'get in ice as fast as you can.'" (For those of you that don't know me well, I'm an expired EMT so I know things like this. Also, I'm an expired notary if you need my [clandestine] services).

THE END (Sorry to cut it short, this was as far as things got in my head. I'm hoping that the toe was re-attached and I was still able to live a normal, albeit boring life with no change in my gait or disposition.)

And now, in an effort to succinctly address the topic by which I am being "paid" to discuss:

1. Had I been a Dyf painting I would have likely been privy to some of those "family secrets" that we've all been dying to discover (you'll know what that means...actually, probably better than me).

2. It's possible that I am still a werewolf now. As with borderline leprosy (and CA-MRSA/HA-MRSA for that matter), the distinction is always blurring. We all know how much common mysticism and folklore tradition tends to confuse the mythological dinosaur/werewolf creature (yeah, I don't know what the hell this last sentence means either).

Sincerely and apologetically,

The were-rex (or T-wolf) formally known as Dyf.

Talking to Yourself While Driving is ALWAYS a Hands-Free Activity...

2009-03-10T22:19:00.000-07:00

On a scale of 1 to 10, the amount of entertainment that I am able to provide myself after drinking 3 cups of coffee is about a 14.

I discovered this fact on my drive home from Starbucks tonight after a few extremely focused hours of studying...I did not stop talking to myself for a second throughout the duration of my 12 minute drive.

Topics that I discussed...

what the ticket dispenser at the parking lot would say to its girlfriend if it wanted to break up with her
how long the CIA has been accessing my computer
if it would be better to be hit by a train or shot by a sniper rifle
when I open my own bar, I'll name it Kitty's (and we will have Lazer-tag there)
whether or not people think I'm crazy when they see me talking and laughing hysterically and they realize I'm not talking to another person on the phone (the conclusion I came to: even I think I'm crazy while this is actually going on, so those other people (and those of you reading this) must think I'm crazy too)
if I should be worried about the emerging pattern in my life of people mistakenly assuming that I'm either drunk or high (more on that in a future blog...tentatively titled; "When 10 years of controlled substance abuse starts to catch up with you...")
if I should I wait until my heart rate is above 100 to call for an ambulance or just give em a shout now (preemptively)

I would say goodnight, but I'm pretty sure I'll be up for the next 72 hours. Unlike my friend, Samuel*, pictured below

Sincerely,
A dinosaur disguised as an armadillo dressed up as crack-dealer

*Samuel is also a reservoir for the bacteria that causes Leprosy (M.Leprae)

Another Test...Sorry for the Convenience

2009-02-25T20:15:00.001-08:00

This is Only a Test

2009-02-25T11:53:00.001-08:00

If I wasn't a dinosaur I would want to be a churro...

2009-02-23T20:25:00.000-08:00

Wait, actually that might be the worst idea ever (even more so than that one time my mom let me canoe around fallen leaf lake without a lifejacket OR a helmet).

I would only be okay with being a churro if carnivorism is acceptable in the churro-community.

If anyone knows someone in the churro community please give them my contact info (don't forget to let them know I'm an MPH-C...it gives me more clout).

I know I said that I wasn't going to blog tonight because of unforseen circumstances but it turns out to be a foregone conclusion.

P.S. the above photograph takes that's what she said into a whole new level...as in, that's what she saw.

Due to unforseen circumstances, this blog will not be written tonight. Sorry for any inconvenience. Please check back again at a later date.

2009-02-23T20:10:00.001-08:00

I Love Lamp

2009-02-22T20:39:00.000-08:00

Alternate titles:
"Back on top of the world: the story of how a little dinosaur transcends all of her self-proclaimed 'new lows'"

"My tongue is orange because of all the cheetoes (that's what she said)"

"If I'm unable to find a real human/dinosaur boyfriend I will consider looking into common household appliances"

P.S. Sean Penn gets a shout-out for his Oscar acceptance speech (even though I still can't fully accept the gays)

The Only Thing Worse than Nic Cage in National Treasure 2 is...

2009-02-12T00:28:00.000-08:00

attempting to put on your socks after you've already put on your pants that have become too tight because you're "in school again."

It's sad when you get to the point of needing a step-stool just to get dressed. But not as sad as Nic Cage's hair...

Go ahead and start shortening my name to Tra when referring to me in an informal situation.
Tracy is just too long. (I think what I would normally say next goes without saying).

You Know You've Hit A New Low, Part Deux

2009-01-31T01:36:00.000-08:00

This blog is, in no way, a rip off of Hot Shots, Part Deux...a truly excellent movie. Although, not quite as good Gigli.

Some quick updates before we get into the real meat (that's what she said) of today's topic.
1. I've recently discovered that I'm a sleep-typer (I'm completely passed out writing this right now)...if you try to wake me up, there will likely be a struggle.
2. I just saw the movie "Taken" starring Liam Neeson. It's about as believable as Die Hard (with a Vengeance). Fucking Pete and Grace, I wish you guys would just let me and Annie enjoy movies without making fun of us. We're just imaginative people, that's all.
3. I just joined the Cal Triathlon club...I'll send you a sticker. And a green hat.
4. I'm learning how to ride the bus to school.
5. Stella has yet to find a job.

Now back to the topic of the hour...
You know you've hit a new low when you realize that you are 24 years old, hanging out at a FRAT HOUSE, and taking turns with your friend on the ab cruncher machine thing to see who can do more leg lifts.

Furthermore and unfortunately, I'm lacking any photo documentation of what I decided to eat this night. Let me put it this way, I haven't eaten meat or cheese** for the past 3 weeks EXCEPT for last friday night...1 BLT, 1 butter lemon and sugar crepe, 1 cheeseburger, 4 chicken mcnuggets, and an apple pie.

I'd like to nominate myself for the prestigious D-Bag of the week award.

**Please don't ask me why...it's not because I like animals. I f-ing hate animals actually. Especially yaks and the common household pet rat. And let's not forget that certain un-employed dog of mine. The only animal worth my time is a special peacock friend of mine named Roepert. Is a bird even an animal though?

Well, I would say "I should probably go to bed" but I'm already asleep (perhaps sleep-typing is one of the side effects of ny-quil?). P.S. I take ny-quil recreationaly now.

GN

Some Earlier Experiments in Writing...

2009-01-14T15:15:00.000-08:00

While cleaning out my mother's garage I recently came across some fictional novels that I wrote when I was in third grade. I found some really beautiful stories and old poetry. One of which, entitled "Coming Back Again," I would like to share with you today...

BEGIN TRANSCRIPTION (fortunately, I'm a scribe, so I just did this transcription on my own):

Sixteen years ago a bridge collapsed and fifteen-hundred people went with it. Two hundred people survived...

Thirteen hundred people were found dead! They found all of the bodies except one. She was a 25 year old girl. Her name was Grace Stearns. One day a young lady named Tracy was rowing on the very same lake that Grace was in, Tracy fell in!

Tracy saw the body of Grace and tried to scream. Then Grace's body started glowing and pulled Tracy towards her. Tracy could not stand the force...she tried to swim out of the water but her insides came out. Then Grace ate Tracy. Then Grace swam to the surface and for the rest of Grace's life, Tracy would haunt her dreams. One night Tracy made the dream come true and killed Grace. The end.

END TRANSCRIPTION

Wow! What I great story! I'm not really sure if this was reflective with my relationship with Grace at the time. Grace, if it's any consolation I no longer want you dead.

I found another journal from later in the same year in which my teacher wrote me a note saying that my next story was not allowed to be so violent or graphic. Apparently it was becoming somewhat of a trend for me.

Well, I'll leave you with the following maxim: "A child that is violent in their youth can often grow into a god-fearing woman, just like Tracy Chase."

Until we meet again.

You Know You've Hit a Knew Low When...

2009-01-01T14:17:00.000-08:00

you're alone in Barnes and Nobles in the middle of the afternoon reading a book and some little kid walks by with his dad and turns to his dad and says "that girl looks drunk."

I Hated Magic Before it Was Cool

2008-12-04T16:44:00.000-08:00

[Disclaimer: I’ve been asked by the BBC to write a series of articles that have little to relevance or importance to the modern day world. This is the first entry in a 6-part series.]

Let’s look back in time for a moment. A happier time when people were not afraid to be themselves. When people were not filled with hatred for something they just didn’t understand.

Do you remember these classic lyrics to the popular 1965 Lovin Spoonful song hit:

'Yeah, do you believe in magic
Yeah, believe in the magic of a young girl's soul
Believe in the magic of rock and roll
Believe in the magic that can set you free'

Now, let’s walk forward in time again and contrast that with the following more recent Sunset Rubdown lyrics:

'Was it magic or Midas that touched you?
And by magic, I mean “trickery.” And by Midas, I mean “faith.”
By magic, I mean “trickery.” And by Midas, I mean “faith.”

What does this mean, Spencer Krug….By magic you mean “TRICKERY”??????? What madness do you speak, I beseech you, TELL ME! Since when was magic synonymous with trickery? I always thought that magic was the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces. That’s certainly not trickery in my book (my book, by the way is Webster’s).

In my own personal life (as opposed to my public (health) life) there are 2 people that I know for certain hate magic. As I’ve stated in a previous blog, the number of friends that I have is only outweighed by the number 5. In other words, I have 4 friends. If two of those friends hate magic, then in epidemiologic terms, we’re looking at a magic hating prevalence (MHP) of close to 50%.

I’m not sure where these negative emotions are coming from. Was it The Never Ending Story perhaps? That movie has always freaked the shit out of me. But, I’m probably not a great example considering my love for magic is only outweighed by my love for beet farms. Maybe it’s something more recent like Harry Potter or the economy. Or have some of us simply lost our ability to imagine?

A great divide is developing in the world today. On one side of this chasm you’ll find those people that would like magic to never be taught to children in schools or referred to in movies and books and the like. On the other side you’ll find those of us that dream of a world filled with unicorns and dragons and potions. I know what side I’m on. Do you?
And so, go on then you non-believers. Keep thinking that hating magic is cool. But watch out, as I might just have to go all D & D on your ass.

Not even a Level 5 Protection Spell can save you from the wrath of Trex.

I welcome your questions and comments. But not your concerns.

For those of you who woke up this morning...

2008-12-03T17:01:00.000-08:00

and were thinking that Trex and her sister were totally normally and functional...please refer to the picture below to help clear up this case of mistaken identity (and I do apologize for the Inappropriate Childhood Nudity or ICN...someone should notify the EPA or the FDA or OSHA or maybe the Forest Service, I'm not sure which one exactly).If this is not enough evidence to convince you, please consider the following points...

Common topics of conversation between Annie and T-rex:
1. Geez, when was the last time my dog bit your dog and you or me or mom had to get stitches?? It's been a while! It's always so funny when that happens though!
2. Bret, are you bulimic? No Germaine, I just want you to pay me a compliment. (Please read in a Flight of the Concords-esque kiwi accent).
3. Trex, is it okay if the house gets cleaned and the electrician is in your room around 8 AM tomorrow morning? Annie, you are the devil. The devil I say.
4. So, what's your Wi fit age??
5. ANNIE! Doesn't your set of Hostroff knives remind you of the Austrof Center from Gossip Girl??

Common Annie and T-rex activities:
1. Annie cuts off half of one of her fingers cooking some strange vegan meal. Trex scoffs silently in the background and runs into her room so she can shove 4 pieces of Rusty's pizza down her throat without Annie finding out.
2. Annie and Trex sit on the couch and silently watch Lord of the Rings. They both cry when Aragorn tells the wee hobitts that everyone should bow to them at the end of the Return of the King and not the other way around.
3. Annie and Trex quote an entire episode of the Office to each other and talk about how that show changed (saved?) their lives.
4. Annie and Trex play the popular board game "My family is more dysfunctional than yours." Naturally, they always end up tied.
5. Annie texts Trex using T9word and doesn't proofread...she mistakenly tells trex that "the old family photos are in the living room underneath the yak." Trex spends the remainder of the day worried that the family's pet yak has escaped.

Until next time,

There won't be a next time,

Yes there will, shut up,

You shut up,

Quit being a douchebag,

At least I'm not a dickweed,

Trex/Tracy

Dearest Secret Diary...

2008-11-13T23:15:00.000-08:00

I can't stop thinking about that boy that swept me off my feet 6 short years ago. Every day I wake up in my sketchy south Berkeley neighborhood and wish that I could be transported back to that perfect night. Every day I wake up and think...if only I could be making out in the back of a taxi cab right now with that special someone.

Instead I am all alone in this town filled with people that don't shave their armpits and smell like fennel and beets.

At least I have Stella to spoon me and my ollaliberry to keep me company.

I will leave you, my sweet diary, with the following words of wisdom...

"Dark times call for darker measures."

"If you can't beat em, hit them over the head with a can of minestrone soup."

"Your caliber is only outweighed by the size of your gun."

"If I had a gun I wouldn't have needed this horse."

"If it weren't for this horse I never would have spent that year in college."

With much trepidation regarding the state of Santa Barbara, I bid you adieu and goodnight,
Trex

I AM ELATED, but...

2008-11-05T09:40:00.000-08:00

When it comes to the outcome of last night's election I have no complaints. I've been a disgruntled American since birth and, last night, for the first time since I remember I was (and still am!) so proud to be a part of this country. Even my renegade cousin grace that was deported to Mexico is fired up right now. EVEN THE FRENCH said "Everyone wants to be an American right now." Did you EVER think you would here the French say that?? THEY might even start calling them Freedom Fries too!

Although I could speak at length about my jubilation, my admiration, my exultation, and every other 'ation word with a positive connotation, I have to throw one BUT in there...

This is a picture, not of people celebrating Obama's historic win, BUT people celebrating the fact that Proposition 8 has just officially passed.

These guys are THAT hysterical over the fact that we just took one big step back. And this is ef-ing CALIFORNIA. It's hard for me to accept. I know that change takes a while. I know that 30 years ago we never would have elected a Black president. Clearly, last night we NEVER would have elected a gay president. But maybe, in a way, it's a good thing. The hypocrisy of Obama's victory on the same night as the passage of a proposition that keeps this country in the dark ages will hopefully open a few more people's eyes. We have a long way to go, and without the equality-hating ignorant assholes pictured above that think an INSTITUTION is more important than a PERSON, we might forget how much work there is to do.

VOTE OR I WILL SMACK YOU

2008-11-03T18:19:00.000-08:00

This is not a threat. I would never threaten you. But I swear to God, if you don't vote tomorrow I will personally make your life a living hell. Again, I'm not trying to threaten you or anything.

Of course OBAMA will win CALI by a landslide...but don't think you're vote doesn't count...there are some CRAZY propositions that might get passed if you don't get off your ass.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT PROPOSITIONS YOU ARE GOING TO VOTE FOR??????

I don't want to inject my own politics into this blog but...vote YES on PROP 8 if you HATE the GAYS! Don't forgot to also vote YES on PROP 4...don't try to protect whorish girls!

Get The Hell Out of My Row

2008-10-29T08:21:00.000-07:00

Ah, a good morning to all of you. Top of the morning if you will! I've had my morning cup of chai and even threw in a shot of espresso to really get things going. It's really working. I'm typing 103 words per minute right now. So, I'm writing you from biostatistics this morning. I always get to this awful 8 am class between 4 and 12 minutes late. It's at the very, very top of campus, as far away from my house as you can get. I like to sit in the very top row so that I can play on my computer instead of paying attention. You might be thinking..."Trex, you need to grow up and start focusing in your class." To that I say: "Ef you!" Seriously though, our teacher wrote our textbook and literally just reads the textbook to us to teach the class. However, I digress. What prompted me to blog this early is my recent realization that I HATE people sitting near me. When I first sat down today this is what MY top row looked like:

Now, that is a beautiful sight to me! A veritable sight for sore eyes. When something like this happens to me, I find myself thinking, "God dammit, if the next person that sits down sits in this row I swear to god I'm gonna f-ing, jesus, holy crap." Clearly, I'm channeling Grandpa.

Since I first started writing, 3 people have already sat in my row.

If someone takes the seat next to me I'm probably gonna lose my shit.

Have a lovely rest of your day
and try not to sit next to anyone in case they are as misanthropic as your author

Trex

Dead Baby Possum Update

2008-10-19T20:14:00.000-07:00

The other day I happened across a very frightening scene. Stella was lying in my backyard next to a mutilated dead baby possum which, it seems, she herself perpetrated untold crimes against. In a moment of panic, I picked up the dead baby possum (with an empty flower pot) and chucked it into my next door neighbors yard. It has just recently been brought to my attention that, in some circles, this might be considered a somewhat malicious act. I'd like to publicly apologize to my neighbors and make it clear that I am not waging a secret war against them. I promise you, this was no act of sedition on my part. Twas only an irrational decision made in the face of my hysterical angst. It was clearly a direct result of the deep seeded fear of dead baby possums I seem to posses.

Sunday Evening Questions of the Day

2008-10-19T18:45:00.000-07:00

1. If nominated to be one of Irish Magazines “Top 100 Irish-Americans in 2008” will I garner the #7 or the #36 spot?

2. Have large festivals and gatherings in San Francisco (I won’t name any names here) caused me to become even more of a misanthrope than previously stated?

3. If I could become the physical embodiment of any television show on the air what would it be?

4. What three phrases did I utilize most this weekend?

Answers

1. it’s moot
2. absolutely they have
3. The Office
4. a) “This is career-making work”
b) “I’m multiethnic and not afraid to say it”
c) “If I’m not studying, I’m probably just drunk…or blogging…or blogging drunk”

Addendum 2: I love lasers (possibly tied for magic)

2008-10-12T13:55:00.001-07:00

I recently was needing to "pair" my apple remote with my macbook...they became upaired after i installed the new leopard operating system on my computer (or is it jaguar??). I need my apple remote when I watch dvds on my computer. What's significant about this is the fact that, while laying in bed watching a movie, my computer is usually on my lap and at arm's length and yet I still feel the need to use a remote. When trying to determine how to "pair" them up again, I found a note on apple's website saying that you can check to see if your remote is is working by taking a picture of your remote while holding down one of the buttons. This way, you can see if the infrared sensor is functioning, which you can't see with the naked (slut!) eye.
I don't know why this is so exciting to me. Maybe because my dad is a physics geek? Once I found out this was possible, I couldn't stop doing it! If I know my sister, she's going to do the exact same thing with her remote as soon as she reads this, and she will probably be equally overjoyed.

Why you should vote for Sarah Palin (Addendum to most recent post)

2008-10-12T13:29:00.001-07:00

1. she looks a lot like tina fey and my mom really likes 30 rock, so, essentially, you are supporting my mom if you support sarah palin

2. she's white, and thus, more trustworthy

3. she knows how to abuse power, get caught, but then not get punished in anyway - a quality that every president should posses

4. if she can shoot an f-ing wolf from a moving helicopter she's probably got excellent aim and is more likely to stay on target (next target = iran)

5. she doesn't reprimand any of her supporters when they yell out, in reference to barak obama; "terrorist" or "bomb obama" or "kill him" at her rallies. in other words, she has a deep appreciation for freedom of speech

6. she's absolutely unqualified for her job and thus VERY qualified to be in washington

7. she's not only nearsighted (wears glasses), but also, extremely farsighted (can see russia from her house)

8. her love for women's rights is only outweighed by her ability to answer Katie Couric's interview questions

9. she reads EVERY newspaper in the country

10. she is a pitbull, my dog is a pitbull, i love my dog, therefore, by association...i love sarah palin (note: this also works in the case of sarah palin as joe six-pack, e.g i drink six packs, dot dot dot)

Arguments For and Against Doing Crack

2008-10-12T12:30:00.000-07:00

My plight of trying to be cool in the face of adversity continues to be a lifelong struggle for me. I've decided to take up (electric shock) therapy which will hopefully prove helpful. Perhaps it's something in the water? I recently learning about the E. Coli 0157 outbreak that happened in Canada about 10 years ago...turns out, in that case, it really was in the water. That wasn't too helpful for all the people that were being told to drink lots of water to keep hydrated. Bloody diarrhea, apparently, is quite dehydrating. Anyway, I digress. What I mean to say is, not that I'm having a bout of bloody diarrhea right now, but that I don't understand why I can't be more slick? Case in point: I've recently enrolled in a MCAT prep course (as a side note: don't ever take one of these things for fun, they are, quite simply, awful), and my first night was this past Tuesday (or, Tuesday past, depending on your era of origin). So about halfway through our 3 hour class, our teacher let us out for a 10 minute break. Naturally, I took this opportunity to go purchase a garden salad for myself so as to quell my voracious appetite (nothing like a few pieces of lettuce and a cherry tomato to satiate oneself). Because of the short length of our break, I felt compelled to take my salad back to our classroom and eat there. So, there I was, learning about verbal reasoning passage strategies and calmly enjoying my delicious salad. Unfortunately, things quickly went downhill from here. As I placed my salad in my lap to pour some ranch dressing on top, I somehow manage to flip the entire thing over, effectively pouring an entire side of ranch onto my black yoga pants (I wear yoga pants just in case we do a break-out yoga sesh in the middle of class as a stress-managing technique). Naturally, I panicked. I didn't want any of my new classmates to see what had become of me so I took the paper bag that my salad had come in and covered up the mess I had made. At the same time, I was trying to stealthily clean the ranch off of my pants with a smallish napkin. Unfortunately, this was just making it all worse. Then, as if I wasn't embarrassed enough, the rest of my salad fell out of my lap onto the floor. My one cherry tomato (why do they always only give you one??) rolled to the other side of the room and there were red onions and carrots everywhere. The girl sitting next to me had to help me clean it all up. Needless to say, this is the last time I'll be eating in my MCAT class.

Moving on to something more exciting... I have finally found a boyfriend! It turns out, my dating website is an absolute winner. The amount of stellar inquisitions from quality boys I have gotten as a result of that website is staggering. It was hard for me to decide who I would end up with, but I think that I've made the right decision and I hope all of you will agree. His given name is Hellotoyoutoday (I think it's French) and he is a 22 year old business/entrepreneur. In his profile under the category I SPEND A LOT OF TIME THINKING ABOUT...he wrote: "Would I become a jackass if I suddenly inherited a billion dollars?" To that I say, honey, I think you're already there, estate tax-free. Please see the attached picture to get a better idea of his true beauty.

What a great photo to have on your okCupid profile, right. I've always wanted to date someone that has face that looks like a camera.

In further news, I have resigned from my post as cookie deliveree. I know this may come as quite a shock to many of you, considering that this was the whole reason I moved to Berkeley, but I've decided to pursue my other passion of online gaming. More on that later though.

I think that Stella has possibly swallowed one of her squeakie toys. I cannot be sure as of yet but I will definitely keep you posted (via intermittent radio broadcasts that will be announced by sirens and flashing lights). I tried to induce the noise by pressing on her this morning (Stella, is the pain reproducible?) but, unfortunately, this just caused her to fart on me.

Which one of these toys has Stella ingested??

After much deliberation, I have decided not do crack. Thank you for all of your support on this matter.

With all the knowledge in the world,

Trex

A dedication to my favorite dickweed OR How to survive 5 days with my Uncle Judy

2008-09-24T17:18:00.000-07:00

After much deliberation and forethought, I decided that the best and most productive manner by which to detail my experience this past weekend at Fallen Leaf Lake with my Uncle Geoff was by way of audio and visual displays. I feel that this is the most effective way to get my point across. My point being that, not only is my Uncle one of the most insane people on record, but he is also one most entertaining, insightful, and lovable persons I know. In other words, my adoration for my uncle is only outweighed by my fear of him...

Before we could even get to the lake we had to make a much deserved stop in the city at the Elbo Room. Geoff taught all of us that you REALLY can text someone's landline. Your cell company will text you back and say "this is a landline, would you like to send a message to this number for 25 cents?" I think Geoff texted his sister to remind her that she's a dickweed.

Our latest album cover...The Talking D-weeds.

#1 in a long (or is it short?) list of Geoff's favorite things to do when it's too cold to go swimming....

Note that Geoff left for Stella when Grace and him headed to the lake the morning before Stella and I left...it says "Bye Stella: We need to talk, I'll call you from the lake."

I never knew I was a dickweed until this past week. Dickweed is clearly Geoff's all-time favorite word. According to Geoff; Grace is a dickweed, Pete is a dickweed, my mom is a dickweed, I am a dickweed, and Stella is a dickweed. Stella is most certainly the biggest dickweed of them all. But that is only because she broke Geoff's heart (more on that later).

The second of Geoff's 3 favorite activities...I'm not sure how many birds he'll see with his binocs points in such a direction. They'll probably see him first.

Here is a photo that I thought very representative of Geoff and Stella's relationship. Geoff, sitting in the shadows, staring longingly at Stella who refuses to even look at him. Things got off to a rocky start between the two of them from day one.

An entire family of dickweeds...

Last but not least on the favorite activities list.

"In light of the quality of your oeuvre, I am temporarily suspending your moniker - dickweed, pending future dubious, problematic activity on your part which of course is inevitable, you dickweed!!!! I'm pissed, I'm Judy, I shoot cats from helicopters!!!!!"
-Recent email message from the undersigned (I have no comment, I don't even understand half of these words)

Uncle Geoff, although you have not authorized any of the materials I have made publicly available (and you are a lawyer, so that could be a mistake on my part). I hope you've enjoyed this tribute to your person as much as I enjoy your endless antics.

Tank of gas to get to fallen leaf lake....$55

Stocking up with fruit, veggies and frosted flakes at Raley's...$97

Trying to fall asleep in the same room as your cousin Grace and your dickweed Uncle who is in his sleeping bag on the floor sending both of you texts that say "goodnite d-weeds".....Priceless

With much chagrin,

Trex

Ahem,

T-weed

A sidenote from UJ's sister who is currently missing, and at-large:

When Uncle Judy was about 7, his sister, J, now living in the Columbia Gorge, and at the time, about 3 and a half years younger than UJ and sadly, sharing a room, resented the fact that UJ got up earlier in the morning to got to school (he was later expelled). In an attempt to prevent him from rising the next morning, she piled all (ALL) of her toys on top of him one night, in the middle of the night. It was the beginning of UJ's lifelong struggle with mental confusion, for which he is so benignly and lovingly known. For J, it was an early realization that strange behavior could reap untold rewards, whilst going largely unnoticed in the SFS.*

*Stearns Family System

The amount of friends I have is only outweighed by the number 5 OR We should probably refer to the literature OR When good things happen to bad people

2008-09-14T20:35:00.000-07:00

It's been a whirlwind of a week I must say. What with the alien abduction and subsequent return of my person to the earth and all. Just when I thought things couldn't get any crazier, they did. Because I am too lazy right now to write in paragraphs the following blog will be a bulleted list of important points or events that I felt the need to discuss.

I'd like to start this off by saying, the stealing of my camper shell off of my truck has affected me both emotionally and spiritually. I'm really not ready to talk about it yet. Please see attached flyer and distribute amongst the community at large.
Nextly, a few nights ago I may or may not have had a bit of champagne to drink. The result of this was a flurry of drunk texting and dialing. Sorry about that call mom. I just REALLY needed to know if that was Sandy Koufax in that old picture of you. I also sent a blank text message to my dad's home phone number. I'm not sure if he got it. It was really important though.
Furthermore, I've joined an internet dating service called ok-cupid. I'm not really sure what I was thinking. Maybe I just haven't had time yet to have that internal monologue that should sound like this: "Trex, what the hell are you thinking?" It's been pretty funny so far. Lots of potential for awkwardness. And we all know I deserve 5 stars for awkwardness. In case you think we might be a good match you can check out my profile... (http://www.okcupid.com/profile/trex_c). When I view my own profile it tells me that I am an 89% match to myself.
I met this awesome person yesterday...a friend of a friend of a friend (FOAF). The original friend being someone who I'm not really contacting anymore. Anyway, I was at this brunch thing in the city for Dania's birthday (HBDD!) and talking to some people when this guy came up to me to tell me that I looked really familiar. I was so happy to hear that from someone because I'm always hearing from people that I look really unfamiliar (even from people I know pretty well). But we chatted for a bit and, it turns out we didn't actually know each other in a familiar way. After he left, the awesome FOAF guy was making fun of the conversation I had just had with the other familiarity guy (is this making too much sense?). He came up with the best line EVER...."You look just like a girl I kind of want to sleep with." I'm definitely using that one. It should probably be somehow incorporated into my online dating profile. I'm sure that would attract some really top-notch gentlemen.
I'd now like to direct your attention to a different topic. I recently was speaking with my lovely Mexican cousin Graciela. She informed me that she will be visiting me, along with her father Uncle Judy, this coming Tuesday. My excitement for Uncle Geoff to be hanging out with me in Berkeley is only outweighed by innate ability to juggle. I hope he says "dickweed" more than once.
In further news, I would like to cordially and precipitously invite everyone to the 2008 Checker's Chunks Chase Birthday Bash (C x 3, B x 2). This will be held at my abode in Berkeley tomorrow at noon. I would come down to Santa Barbara, but it's more convenient for me if everyone could just drive up here in the morning. You should probably plan to leave around 6AM. We will be eating raw dog food and fake plastic vegetables for lunch. Also, everyone will have their own bowl of water. We'll play a really fun game called "Stella Chewing on Checker's Paw." This reminds me of the three little pigs video when Pete tells Grace (in a moment of some of the most brilliant childhood acting I've ever seen).."You better not be lying to me or I'm gonna come back here and chew on your face." This, in turn, reminds me of the book I've always wanted to write: "Living in Fear of My Brother and his Baby Blue Scooter - The Grace Stearns Story." The sequel would be about me..."Living in the Crack Between Grace's Bed and the Wall."
Lastly, it was discovered by myself today (after a 14-month deleterious investigation) that my roommate Ramsey Wright Penn (no relation to Sean) has an uncle (named CIII...maybe he's also a robot?) that went to Crane school with my beloved mother. How's that for the alignment of the stars. Mother Chase (no relation to Mother Jones) also related to me that she knew Ramsey's grandmother as well. What a small, shaded world we live in. Unless you live on my street which isn't exactly what you would call "tree-lined." I do hope to live on a tree-lined street someday. Also, I want a Viking Stove.
Annie, I'm really sorry but I accidentally severed my right leg and left it in your bathroom. My bad.

Over the bridge to nowhere you will find a dead moose and a cop that tazered his stepson "because he asked me to," also some books that nobody would have read anyway.

I bid you adieu.

Trex

Mom, I've been abducted by aliens, please call Sarah Pallin

2008-09-11T20:17:00.000-07:00

She'll know what to do. She always does in situations like this.

Apparently my ass (on account of its ever increasing froot loop induced size) decided to drunk dial my mom while I was riding my bike to school today. My buttocks was only able to leave a garbled message to said mother and apparently it was somewhere along the lines of "We have your daughter, we haven't hurt her...yet. We demand 24 dollars, payable to our B of A account. You have 7 hours." I, of course, was the last to know about my purported kidnapping, brought to my attention after my venerable mother left 2 frantic messages saying "honey, i think you've been abducted, i hope you're okay, call me back when you get a chance and let me know if there's anything I can do in terms of a ransom. Also, I forwarded your car insurance bill to your house."

Quite touching really.

It turns out the whole incident this afternoon was just a ruse. I wasn't actually kidnapped this afternoon by fictitious Berkeley hooligans. But, in a completely random and unrelated occurrence, I WAS abducted by aliens about an hour ago. I don't really know what to do at this point, I've been confined to a small holding cell with D.B. Sweeney. It's been pretty scary so far. They made me take the picture that I've included...I think they are trying to brainwashing me into thinking I am one of them. I won't give in. Luckily, they've allowed me to bring my mac and they have pretty good wireless up here. It actually might be a good thing because I've really been procrastinating with my school work, so maybe I'll get some done up here. Although, blogging seems to be a fairly effective distraction.

I'll keep everyone posted if I find anything out about when I might get released. I'm not sure what the logistics of that will be, but I'm hoping, at the least, they'll provide me with a parachute and a compass.

Confessions of a Cookie Delivery Girl (or Lady), Part I

2008-08-30T12:29:00.000-07:00

After a 15 month, intensive and rigourous certificate program from Phoenix Online University (www.takeclassesonline.edu) I have begun my first official job as a cookie delivery girl (or, as we call it in the biz…a Late Night Snack Delivering Associate). My new part time (physically)/full time (mentally) job began on Thursday night at 9 P.M. I can honestly and modestly say this is the greatest achievement of my life to date. My job not only provides me with a competitive salary (plus benefits) but also a sense of accomplishment and the feeling that I’m truly making a difference in this troubled and tumultuous world. My first night was not only challenging but also intellectually stimulating. My boss had told me when I was first hired that he wanted to just “get my feet wet” on my first night, but he pretty much threw me in the proverbial stream instead. He had me baking new cookies, warming up previously baked cookies, preparing new orders, answering the phone, and even mopping up at the end of the night. On a side note, my boss (a recent graduate of Indiana University) was recently listed on Forbes’ list of Small Business Owners to Watch in 2008, and, based on his management style, I’m not surprised at all. Don’t get me wrong though, there were certainly a few lighthearted moments in the night. Like when I was wrapping balls of raw cookie dough (yeah, we deliver that too) for an order and Dylan was describing to me how to “pack the balls in there so they didn’t flop out over the side of the wax paper” or how to check to make sure if the cookies in the warmer are ready by “lifting them up a little bit to see how limp they are”. It’s the Limp Test. In addition to all of the other demanding tasks I was asked to perform on Night One, I was also able to make a few deliveries. This was made interesting not only by the fact that I’ve lived in Berkeley for less than a week and don’t know my way around but also because everyone I was delivering too was either drunk or stoned, naturally. They were also all college-aged girls, naturally (I don’t really see the middle-aged businessman ordering snickerdoodles at 2 A.M).
I know that I moved up here to deliver cookies but, after a bit of thought, I’ve also decided to enroll in classes in one of the little colleges here and get my Master’s In Public Health. My main focus will be cookies of course (as it should be) but I thought this would be a fun thing to do in my spare time. I started that whole thing this Wednesday and so far it has been truly amazing. My professors are incredible (their brilliance is only outweighed by my earlier stated sense of accomplishment) and my classes all seem very interesting (Principles of Infectious Disease, Epidemiologic Methods, Introduction to Public Health, and Food Borne Diseases). There are only 12 other first year kids in my division (which is Infectious Diseases and Vaccinology) and about 9 awesome Infectious Disease professors. One of whom (or is it who) happens to be the Director of the UC Berkeley/UCSF Joint Medical School Program. This is a somewhat new (and very small) program that allows you to take your first 3 years of med school classes at Berkeley and then finish up your clinical work at UCSF. Being here has certainly renewed my desire to go to med school eventually and this program would basically (and acidically) be a dream come true. So needless to say, I’m going to make it Priority One on my long list of 273 Priorities to become best friends with the previously mentioned but not yet named Dr. Swartzberg. This makes my life complicated because I thought when I first came up here that delivering cookies was going to be Priority One but now it seems that I’m going to have to have a Priority 1A and 1B, which will be A and which will be B is yet to be determined as such.
In further news, the dog (Stella Bumps) has adjusted quite well to her new surroundings and new roommates (Ramsey and Jen) who, incidentally, are both great (their greatness is only surpassed by the fact that they are paying me rent). I’ve also adjusted well so far, despite a few days of an upset stomach (which, not to go into too much detail involved a bout of “loose stools” as my sister likes to call them). I was always confused by that phrase as it invokes for me an image of instrument of sitting that has become wobbly as a result of being overused. Moving in was a bit of a stress considering that the family I’m renting from perhaps thought they were only renting their house out for a few days rather than 12 months and failed to clean the house or remove any of the crap that one wouldn’t really consider to be part of a “furnished house” (e.g. their children’s artwork, old food in the fridge, their 40 year old fax machine, etc.). But now we are a bit more settled in and so Stella and I have been getting a chance to explore the neighborhood a bit more. This also seems to be a great way for me to pick up on the men that live nearby (I’ve already had a few people ask me if I wanted to be their girlfriend, one guy just shouted his phone number at me and told me to call him as soon as I got home, and let’s not forget the guy that works at Extra Space Storage that offered to show me around town and “took the liberty of taking my phone number off my storage unit application” and then proceeded to text and call me a few times a day for about 3 days after the fact).
My neighborhood may or may not be one of the nicer neighborhoods in Berkeley, but it certainly is conveniently located. It takes me less than 15 minutes to bike to school in the morning. This is fantastic but the only issue is that it’s a bit uphill. I try to plan my wardrobe to be less revealing of the sweat running down my back by the time I arrive on campus but this has proved to be a bit of a challenge. The ride back is even faster considering it is downhill but one might argue that this makes it a bit more dangerous. Yesterday on my way home I stopped at Jamba Juice for a refreshing and tasty smoothie. I was blazing down the hill, one hand on a handlebar, the other holding my smoothie. When I approached a rather busy intersection I tried to simultaneously brake with one hand and take a sip of my smoothie with the other. Unfortunately, my brain sent a bit of mixed message and I accidentally slammed on the brakes, went flying over the handlebars, but miraculously landed on both feet with my smoothie still in hand and intact. Everyone at the intersection saw it happen, I think a few people even honked. It seems that any attempt I make to act suave and cool ends in disastrous defeat. It’s like whenever I have one of those uber-confident moments and want to walk with my head held high and shoulders back I end up tripping down a flight of stairs. I had a memorable incident like this during my long ago trip to India on that lovely mountaineering course. I was checking out a book from the tiny library in a little hut at our base camp and successfully flirting with all the cute instructors that happened to be helping with the book distribution (you know, impressing them with my vast knowledge of the three Hindi phrases I learned) and as I was walking out grinning and feeling generally successful in my attempts, I failed to notice how low the door jam was and smacked my head really hard against the top of the door in front of everyone.
Well, I think that I have discussed all of the topics that I set out to cover today. I apologize for the excessive length and will try to keep things shorter next time. Any questions or concerns can be directed to me via email (trexc42@mac.com). Please keep any negative comments to a minimum in light of my fragile self-esteem.

Until next time,

As soon as possible,

Stay focused and you will succeed,

With love and admiration,

Just do it already and get it over with,

That’s what she said,

Trex

A Disclaimer, as always

2008-08-30T12:18:00.000-07:00

I have finally decided to get on the whole blog bandwagon. About this I feel excited, apprehensive, radiant and a bit gassy and bloated. There are myriad topics that I would like to discuss. Like, for example, why it's proper grammar to just say "myriad" and not "a myriad" which would sound so much better. I would like to stress that, although I have many thoughts on many things, I will make no attempt to write about things that are either truthful, politically correct, or intellectually important. Despite my aforementioned interest in grammar, my sentence structure often leaves something to be desired and I frequently try to use large words that I don't completely understand the meaning of (see above: myriad, aforementioned). I refuse to make any apologizes for myself in this regard. But I'm very sorry that I do that.