On the drive back yesterday, I listened to my backlog of podcasts. I finally caught up with Radiolab. The topic was parasites.
Seriously, couldn't stop it. Fascinating. Attaching the link to the part that got me.
http://www.wnyc.org/shows/radiolab/episodes/2009/09/25/segments/133981
It was a discussion on Toxoplasma Gondii. I learnt in parasitology class in college about how pregnant women were not supposed to clean the cat box. That is because they could be infected by this parasite that is found in cat poop. It leads to miscarriages etc. Not so great stuff.
They go into how exacty toxo works. We humans are the wrong host for it. We are not part of its life cycle. It wants to actually be in rats/rodents. Something that a cat eats. The toxo just wants to get back into the cat and multiply.
When it is in the rat, it works its way into the rats brain and rewires the rat. It makes it so that the rat begins to love the smell of cat. The rat falls in love with the cat, making it so that the rat does not run away when the cat is nearby. Next thing you know, the rat becomes lunch and the toxo gets back into the cat.
Soooo, that has made people start to think. Has toxo rewired humans? Is there a reason that we love cats so much? Are crazy cat ladies really crazy or just infected?
For me, I'm not completely sure. I'm a third generation cat lover. At Thanksgiving, we discussed how everyone in the family has at least one cat. Are we all infected or is it just genetic? Either way, I'm all good with it.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Houston
My dad is a geophysicist. That is a very very fancy and over-educated way to say my dad looks for oil. (Black gold, Texas crude). If you are an oilman, where is the logical place for you to live and raise a family. Houston.
Looking back, my childhood in Houston was not so bad, but all I ever wanted to do was get out of there. It was hot, and muggy, and had these huge churches that were super conservative and scary. The list went on and on.
But, whenever I drive back into town, I get happy. I remember things. Being in high school and hanging out on Richmond and Montrose. Red Square on a Saturday night and dancing until 2. The House of Guys (Pies) on Kirby, getting coffee and people watching. Numbers, Butera's, the Alabama Bookstop, Brasil, The Menil, Step Back Sams, the Dream Merchant.
Things have come and gone. I had dinner at the old site of the Dream Merchant at Mark's. It used to be the clothing store that was in an old church. I remember coming home in high school and telling my mom about that store. They sold Docs on what used to be the alter area. Now it's a fancy restaurant. Super fancy. The alter is now the bar. My mom seemed to have issues with them selling shoes on it, but liquor, not so much.
Really, not a bad town. Maybe I'm waxing poetically because it's November and the weather is beautiful. Lets see how much I like this place when I visit in July.
Looking back, my childhood in Houston was not so bad, but all I ever wanted to do was get out of there. It was hot, and muggy, and had these huge churches that were super conservative and scary. The list went on and on.
But, whenever I drive back into town, I get happy. I remember things. Being in high school and hanging out on Richmond and Montrose. Red Square on a Saturday night and dancing until 2. The House of Guys (Pies) on Kirby, getting coffee and people watching. Numbers, Butera's, the Alabama Bookstop, Brasil, The Menil, Step Back Sams, the Dream Merchant.
Things have come and gone. I had dinner at the old site of the Dream Merchant at Mark's. It used to be the clothing store that was in an old church. I remember coming home in high school and telling my mom about that store. They sold Docs on what used to be the alter area. Now it's a fancy restaurant. Super fancy. The alter is now the bar. My mom seemed to have issues with them selling shoes on it, but liquor, not so much.
Really, not a bad town. Maybe I'm waxing poetically because it's November and the weather is beautiful. Lets see how much I like this place when I visit in July.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thanksgiving
I just looked, and it has been too long. I stopped blogging for a bit. It became a chore. When something you love becomes a chore, I find it best to take a step back and do other things until that something becomes something you want to do again.
So, I'm back.
The past couple of months have kind of been a mess. I think my mind has been in about 50 places. I ended up dealing with things by doing my version of hiding. I take on too much. Every day of the week I had something. If it wasn't running 6 miles, it was meeting up with friends for 3 hours etc. This finally all caught up with me in November.
My sister got sick again. Her breast cancer came back. The only reason I knew was she texted me about a picture she wanted, and at the bottom she put she was getting her implants redone the next week. I thought to myself "why is she getting them redone??" So, of course I called her.
She acted very non-chalant and explained that during her annual visit with the oncologist, after a series of tests, they just decided to give her a second mastectomy. Also, since its been a couple of years, and she is going to need a new implant, they were going to give her a new one and replace the old. Oh, and take out a bunch of lymph nodes while they were at it. Nothing big.
I kept it all in and talked along with her like it was nothing big. I got off the phone, went to bed, went to work the next day, and proceeded to have a breakdown. Thank god we have the lactation room. At least I had a place to hide out.
Anyway, she finally had the surgery, and of course I have another breakdown outside of Houston's when I hear she isn't doing well. I'm way too emotional for my own good. Unfortunately, Houston's doesn't have a lactation room. They have a 2 hour wait.
So, time moves on and Thanksgiving is coming. No one seems to have any plans. I was thinking I would just orphan it in Dallas. When you say something like that, the offers to take you in come out of the woodwork.
Originally, I had agreed to go with Julie to her families Thanksgiving in Emory. Then, my sister calls and said it was decided that everyone was going to meet in Houston. She and her husband were driving down from Little Rock, and Alex was flying in from Sweden. If he could fly in from Sweden, I could drive 4 hours home.
My poor mom had a week to figure out how to cook for 9 people.
And here I sit. 4 hours later and a Bucees t-shirt. I'm home. Let the dysfunctional fun begin.
So, I'm back.
The past couple of months have kind of been a mess. I think my mind has been in about 50 places. I ended up dealing with things by doing my version of hiding. I take on too much. Every day of the week I had something. If it wasn't running 6 miles, it was meeting up with friends for 3 hours etc. This finally all caught up with me in November.
My sister got sick again. Her breast cancer came back. The only reason I knew was she texted me about a picture she wanted, and at the bottom she put she was getting her implants redone the next week. I thought to myself "why is she getting them redone??" So, of course I called her.
She acted very non-chalant and explained that during her annual visit with the oncologist, after a series of tests, they just decided to give her a second mastectomy. Also, since its been a couple of years, and she is going to need a new implant, they were going to give her a new one and replace the old. Oh, and take out a bunch of lymph nodes while they were at it. Nothing big.
I kept it all in and talked along with her like it was nothing big. I got off the phone, went to bed, went to work the next day, and proceeded to have a breakdown. Thank god we have the lactation room. At least I had a place to hide out.
Anyway, she finally had the surgery, and of course I have another breakdown outside of Houston's when I hear she isn't doing well. I'm way too emotional for my own good. Unfortunately, Houston's doesn't have a lactation room. They have a 2 hour wait.
So, time moves on and Thanksgiving is coming. No one seems to have any plans. I was thinking I would just orphan it in Dallas. When you say something like that, the offers to take you in come out of the woodwork.
Originally, I had agreed to go with Julie to her families Thanksgiving in Emory. Then, my sister calls and said it was decided that everyone was going to meet in Houston. She and her husband were driving down from Little Rock, and Alex was flying in from Sweden. If he could fly in from Sweden, I could drive 4 hours home.
My poor mom had a week to figure out how to cook for 9 people.
And here I sit. 4 hours later and a Bucees t-shirt. I'm home. Let the dysfunctional fun begin.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Baby Birds
I was having a conversation the other week about one of my hobbies. I take in baby birds. They are those people who I feel sorry for that I bring into my circle. The problem is they are baby birds. You never know what they are actually going to grow into. You have to watch out, or they might become turkey buzzards.
I don't know what it is. I guess I drive people crazy. My dad says I am too judgemental. I really don't think so. Have you seen some of the men I've dated? I'm overall very accepting of others and their lifestyle. As long as your not hurting anyone, I'm just fine with it.
Here is the problem with the baby birds. They usually don't think about anyone else. They are trying to grow themselves. They are trying to spread their wings. If you get in the way, they are going to take you out.
Unfortunately, I speak up and say what I think. That results in four page missives about how much I stink as a human being. After about the 3rd one, you kind of get used to it.
But, do I stop, no. Everyone deserves a chance. And what is another psycho crazy letter anyway?
I don't know what it is. I guess I drive people crazy. My dad says I am too judgemental. I really don't think so. Have you seen some of the men I've dated? I'm overall very accepting of others and their lifestyle. As long as your not hurting anyone, I'm just fine with it.
Here is the problem with the baby birds. They usually don't think about anyone else. They are trying to grow themselves. They are trying to spread their wings. If you get in the way, they are going to take you out.
Unfortunately, I speak up and say what I think. That results in four page missives about how much I stink as a human being. After about the 3rd one, you kind of get used to it.
But, do I stop, no. Everyone deserves a chance. And what is another psycho crazy letter anyway?
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Hacking
Early this morning, I get a notice from Facebook that my friend Andy from Michigan had accepted my friend request. I was so excited. I trully loved Andy. He was married to my old roommate Erica.
So, when I get on Facebook, imagine how happy I am when he connects to me via chat and wants to talk. I ask him how he is, and he says he isn't doing so good. He then explains he was robbed at gunpoint in London. I was aghast. I couldn't believe it.
He then says they took his phone and his credit card, but left his passport. His flight home is in a couple of hours, but he is having issues with the hotel. He can't get the bill paid. He wanted me to send him some money. He said he would refund it.
Immediately, my hackles came up. I haven't spoken to Andy in years, and he is contacting me over Facebook and wants me to send him money??? So, I go into detective mode. I start asking him how he is using a computer. He says he is at the library. I ask if his company has travel people he can speak to. I ask if he has called his family.
He responds that he has heard from some of his family, but they could only get enough money to pay for his return ticket. I'm again thinking, this is just wrong. Andy is very professional. Why would he buy a one way ticket to London?
Finally, I ask him about his mom. I know his mother would do anything for him and spend anything. I say why isn't she helping. He says she is waiting for a check to clear, and she is flat broke. Ok, lie lie lie. His mom is loaded. She lives in Lee Iacoca's house, the one he lived in when he turned around Chrysler. And she is waiting for a check to clear??
That is when I told him he was not Andy and to please leave me alone.
Afterwards, he dropped he as a friend on Facebook and dissappeared. I sent an email to Andy and his wife while I was having this conversation just to double check, but I hadn't heard back. I started having doubts. What if Andy's mom had lost everything due to the autos? Etc.
Andy wrote me back about ten minutes later and announced he was working from his couch in Okemos, Michigan and was doing A OK. He thanked me for the hack update. He said he is never on Facebook and someone, somehow got in, and changed the email address. So, even he can't get in and fix it.
Seriously, how awful are some people??
So, when I get on Facebook, imagine how happy I am when he connects to me via chat and wants to talk. I ask him how he is, and he says he isn't doing so good. He then explains he was robbed at gunpoint in London. I was aghast. I couldn't believe it.
He then says they took his phone and his credit card, but left his passport. His flight home is in a couple of hours, but he is having issues with the hotel. He can't get the bill paid. He wanted me to send him some money. He said he would refund it.
Immediately, my hackles came up. I haven't spoken to Andy in years, and he is contacting me over Facebook and wants me to send him money??? So, I go into detective mode. I start asking him how he is using a computer. He says he is at the library. I ask if his company has travel people he can speak to. I ask if he has called his family.
He responds that he has heard from some of his family, but they could only get enough money to pay for his return ticket. I'm again thinking, this is just wrong. Andy is very professional. Why would he buy a one way ticket to London?
Finally, I ask him about his mom. I know his mother would do anything for him and spend anything. I say why isn't she helping. He says she is waiting for a check to clear, and she is flat broke. Ok, lie lie lie. His mom is loaded. She lives in Lee Iacoca's house, the one he lived in when he turned around Chrysler. And she is waiting for a check to clear??
That is when I told him he was not Andy and to please leave me alone.
Afterwards, he dropped he as a friend on Facebook and dissappeared. I sent an email to Andy and his wife while I was having this conversation just to double check, but I hadn't heard back. I started having doubts. What if Andy's mom had lost everything due to the autos? Etc.
Andy wrote me back about ten minutes later and announced he was working from his couch in Okemos, Michigan and was doing A OK. He thanked me for the hack update. He said he is never on Facebook and someone, somehow got in, and changed the email address. So, even he can't get in and fix it.
Seriously, how awful are some people??
Thursday, August 20, 2009
A new predicament
We moved offices a couple of months ago. Everything is about the same as at the old office except the water dispensers and the bathrooms. Not to focus on potties yet again, but the new bathrooms have messed with my head.
The toilets flush automatically. I know this shouldn't be too big a deal, but I have become a slave to these contraptions. They flush incredibly quickly. You have to be super fast to get everything in. So now, when I got, where-ever I am, I am speedy gonzalez.
BUT, when it comes to flushing, I've become lazy. I'm not used to doing it anymore. I will stand up and wonder why nothing is going on back there. Its very confusing. I guess I've become a bit like pavlovs dog.
The toilets flush automatically. I know this shouldn't be too big a deal, but I have become a slave to these contraptions. They flush incredibly quickly. You have to be super fast to get everything in. So now, when I got, where-ever I am, I am speedy gonzalez.
BUT, when it comes to flushing, I've become lazy. I'm not used to doing it anymore. I will stand up and wonder why nothing is going on back there. Its very confusing. I guess I've become a bit like pavlovs dog.
Friday, August 14, 2009
They call me shameless
I have come to discover something about myself. When I run for long periods of time, my body just kind of shuts down. Its putting all its energy into the running. So, all the other systems just seem to go haywire. The main one I'm having issues with is my, hmmm how do I put this, my going to the bathroom system. For some reason, within 20 minutes of starting to run, I have to go. ITS AWFUL!!
I am my own worst enemy too. I want to stay hydrated. So, I keep drinking water. I'm feeding the system. I am supposed to remember not to drink an hour before I go out. I should put sticky notes all over the house.
This Wednesday was awful. We are over at White Rock by the bathhouse doing hills. After the first warm up mile and the 2nd hill, I have the feeling. I hold it hold it hold it. I get through the fourth hill and start running the cool down mile, and I just can't take it any longer. We are passing the boat dock, and I see a suv parked there by the water. A perfect cover. I tell the girls I have to go, and I will meet them by the water fountain.
So, quick as can be, I run over to the side of the truck, squat and get er done. No one sees me. I am thinking I'm all good. I pull my stuff up, get all organized, and start jogging off. That is when I pass the drivers side of the truck to see, there was someone in it.
Classy. Yep, I'm classy.
I am my own worst enemy too. I want to stay hydrated. So, I keep drinking water. I'm feeding the system. I am supposed to remember not to drink an hour before I go out. I should put sticky notes all over the house.
This Wednesday was awful. We are over at White Rock by the bathhouse doing hills. After the first warm up mile and the 2nd hill, I have the feeling. I hold it hold it hold it. I get through the fourth hill and start running the cool down mile, and I just can't take it any longer. We are passing the boat dock, and I see a suv parked there by the water. A perfect cover. I tell the girls I have to go, and I will meet them by the water fountain.
So, quick as can be, I run over to the side of the truck, squat and get er done. No one sees me. I am thinking I'm all good. I pull my stuff up, get all organized, and start jogging off. That is when I pass the drivers side of the truck to see, there was someone in it.
Classy. Yep, I'm classy.
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