Not sold in stores...

I am ashamed. I received more emails from Rik Mayall that I've just read. Every email I read, I readily and automatically place my hand over my mouth in a "oh-my-god-is-this-email-for-me-or-am-I-receiving-someone-else's-email?" manner. Someone I didn't know until a couple of days ago has suddenly become the ambrosia to my mind. I don't want to sound impertinent here, but y'all need to get a Rik Mayall. But you can't have mine, so bugger off.

So, why am I ashamed? Because I am likening him to Drop Dead Fred when, in reality, he is being so absolutely fantastic to me. And from a distance, too. He's in London and I reside in Melbourne. I always think of the worst. I remember once, I was driving along in my car being really careful as I had just gotten my license. Then I started thinking, 'hell, I can be as careful as I want, but a plane can still crash land on me'.

I'm looking up, but I don't see any planes. Fingers crossed that they mind their space. I'm too busy cruisin' to worry.

William John.

Snot Face...!

I don't want to undermine the value of each word that I place on my blog, for they may mean the world to someone. For example, I have in recent days been... well... somewhat stalked by someone who connects with me. Barrages of emails every day. Mysterious phone calls, specifically timed around the opening and closing bells of the London Stock Exchange. I'll assume such, anyway. I mean, that really has no bearing at all. I'll go out on a limb, but I think that it is Rik Mayall. He's this comedian that played Drop Dead Fred. He certainly sounds like Rik Mayall. Except he'll say things like "Mmm... funny feeling in my pants! Funny feeling in my pants!" when I am merely unbuttoning my shirt while talking over the phone (and loosening my belt buckle). Would Rik say that? I think so.

Now, I know I am naïve. You don't just give out your number to a guy who emails you over the internet. Over the internet, for chrissakes! And you certainly don't give out your address, do you? I mean, seriously? Perhaps I was a little too old when I started getting into computers that my Mother forgot to warn me not to do such things. I feel less than intelligent with my choices. But I don't regret them. And I hope not to. So, Mr. Mayall...

You make me ... so very happy...

I'm so glad... you... came into ... my life...

(and nowhere else... so tough luck! :)

Jewish Elmo: Oy vey! What is that that tickles?...

There are a few things that I am always pondering. Y'know. Things. Like, how do I know how much conditioner to use? Shampoo lathers up. Conditioner gives me no clues. And how come I've gone through so many years without really using conditioner? Did I buy shampoo and conditioner in a bundle one day, and got hooked? Am I really hooked, even? I'm sure I could give it up. If I ran out, I'd just use shampoo and think nothing of it. Now, 3-ply toilet paper, there's a different matter entirely...

Anyhow, conditioner isn't really the main focus of today's ramblings. I have just been so out of it the past couple of days. I need someone to shake me awake ... "Alice... Alice... wake up... Alice..." (because, obviously, Alice is my name in the real world) so that I can take some aspirin and do some laundry and get on with life... an Alice would know how to do things. Damn my luck...

You said it, Elmo... you said it...

So, I just listened to a recording of a tickle-me-Elmo doll someone sent me... ahaha! You know... things ain't too bad. Elmo can sure place everything into perpective with his vibratory rumblings and 'Oh boy, that tickles!'. Thanks Elmo... (aka SilverB. ;)

William John.

This is not eine booby...

The other day I returned to University to finish up some late night work, but as I was walking back to my car, I realized that someone had shoved a stick up my exhaust pipe and let down one of my tyres. That was really swell, because I was the center of a lab meeting the next day, and missing out on that sleep really helped. (I called my sister and her boyfriend came and replaced my tyre. I really should man up a little. :)

Anyhow, I decided to join the auto club so that I don't need to get my hands dirty (so ignore that "man up" comment), and did so yesterday. And, as proof of my bad luck, I locked my keys in my car today and had to call them. Am I bad luck? Or is it good luck that I just joined? I'm guessing it is bad luck. Oh well.

So, I got tagged the other day by Rob7543. This is a blog that I very much enjoy reading, much because it fills me with a sense of insouciance, thanks largely to Rob's wit, humor and fantastic music that he makes and posts. (Yeah, so I heard the word insouciance in an episode of Frasier and was waiting to use it. So what?! I can do that, right? In fact, all of my words come from Frasier. ;)

This whole tagging business revolves around me typing out 5 things that makes me less stressed... that relaxes me and makes me feel better about the world. Well, here goes:

1. Finalizing something that has taken forever to complete.
2. Driving to no place in particular and enjoying it all when I get there.
3. Sitting on the steps of Uni as the cold breeze blows and makes me shiver, while everyone else runs away inside like cold, genetically-modified chickens without feathers.
4. Visiting the family after not seeing them for a while. Then it reverses, and not seeing them for a while helps. It's a vicious cycle.
5. Pats pocket holding the number to RACV Auto Club.

I won't go around tagging anyone else. I'm sure everyone is stressed enough with life without having to be tagged. Thanks for thinking of me, though, Rob... you big booby. ;)

William John.

Lollies vs. God...

Experiment 1:
Eye removal with a 25mL pipette.

I was scrolling through my little blog yesterday and it was starting to look dull. I realized that I needed to put more pictures up, especially for those of you who have me on some kind of rotating wallpaper system (I assume you are out there somewhere... :)

So I was at work today. Another long day, but I am home by 6pm. Phew. But I'm only home to make dinner, then I'm back again. There's a meeting tomorrow where I'm supposed to present all the experiments and stuff that I've done and will be doing and all the results I have. Supposedly informal, but I am quite stressed. Anyhow, that is me in the lab. My first lab picture. I got someone else to take the picture... everyone gets all excited when a camera is in the room.

Why are you taking pictures? they ask.
Because when you're this good looking you should take as many as you can, I respond.

Now, that was just obvious. Like, derrrrr...!

Magical lollies

Everyone sort of knew I was mopey today. They could just feel it. I always make jokes and laugh around, but today I was just feeling very solemn and flooded with work. When I returned to my desk at the end of the day, there was a little surprize waiting for me... a container filled with lollies reading 'These magic lollies will help with your experiments'. Tehe. That's so... cute... fantastic... thoughtful... I am moved. I sure hope they work, because I've just thrown away my rosaries... ;)

William John.

Separate the sorrow... divide and distribute... and take it in a pill form... the william man...the william man can...

I just want to express my displeasure with life. The past few days have been just crap. I think I might have bipolar disorder, where one pole is crap and the other pole is also crap, just slightly more viscous crap. You know. The bubbly kind that makes that sickly, swirly pop. Anyhow, my work life is just falling apart. I'm not doing as well as I should be, and I am certainly not performing to par. I'm disappointing myself and my supervisor. I'm non-productive and slow, and my shiny veneer is starting to fade and the real me is starting to show. Less shiny and less productive, despite my work days running into nights. I was a cow prod away from breaking down today and weeping in front of everyone.

Anyhow, I'm listening to that old song, the candyman, now. I'm betting I could kill to this.

"Who can make a rainbow...
wrap it in a sigh...
smoke it in the sun and make a groovy lemon pie...
the candyman
the candman can"

Yes. For sure. Especially today. Who is this candyman, and who is he to mess with my emotions and go homogenizing them with rainbows and cotton candy? I hate him. He doesn't know me, and his song is annoying me. Damn. Why do I do this to myself? Each year I strive to make my life a little bit harder for myself, and I have probably stepped over my threshold long ago. And here I am, complaining about it instead of doing something about it.

So, if you hate that song too and you want to kill to it, go right ahead, I'll be waiting. We can dual it out. Seriously.

William John.

A few lesson...

OK, so it's a Saturday night and I'm in the lab again, John Denver playing quietly in the background (I don't think he had any loud songs anyway...) and me not actually doing any work.
Hmmm. I am spending way too long on these experiments with yeast, and my poor mammalian cells are being so neglected. And so are all of my cells. What did I have for dinner these past few days...? Pizza... shortbread cookies and Mountain Dew... chops with vegies and rice (my housemate offered me this dinner. How nice.). It's no wonder I feel like my brain is shutting down.

But I've learned a few lessons these last few days:

1. Parking under a chirping tree is bound to end in heartache.

Hmmm. Did I say a 'few' lessons? So what! It's been a slow week!

:)

William John.

Pinholes and gum...

I have so much work to do, and I am the worst person when it comes to doing work. I will procrastinate 'til the last moment, and then some. In fact, I'm doing it this very moment. Only now, I have cable internet as a distraction. Some things just download super fast. Some stuff I just download to see how fast it will come in. Ooooh. 200kbps! Woooow...! How impressive...

So, now I have a 2 gigabyte game downloaded and I realize it is in French and I don't know how to crack it and, even if I did, do I have the time for games? Do I have the time for games presented in a language that I can only interpret from the misguidedness of altavista's babelfish?
No is the answer to that. I do not have time for games. That Will I am, that Will I am. I do not have time for games and Will I am.

Sigh... I think I am going a bit nutty. I've started laughing at nothing in particular.

Oh... I don't think I mentioned what I (may have) done as I was leaving my old place...

My mother, God bless her, kept calling me up insisting that I go out and buy needles to insert into the wires of electrical appliances around the house. The morons go to turn something on and BAM... it short-circuits! Genius! And you won't be able to see the pin at all if you get the right ones. She also kept on telling me to pull out the electrical fuses and just take them with me. God, mum is the best for suggestions.

Anyhow, I didn't do any of that... but, as I was leaving the house, I was just so fed up with these people, with their phone messages and their abusive notes and attitudes that I ... I got a pin ... and I was in the laundry and I had meself one of those moments of brilliance that runs in my family...

I stabbed the pin through the hose connecting the washing machine to the tap. I suppose I wasn't really thinking too swell at the time... I was kind of tired, so you must forgive my next actions. So, as soon as I stabbed this hose, water started squirting out really fast and hitting against the wall and making noise. They were in the house somewhere and I needed to cover it up quick. So I got my chewing gum and tried to plug the hole. Damn, I didn't realize how useless chewing gum was for purposes other than just chewing a piece of malleable plastic. It didn't hold... so I started chewing more gum and kept adding onto the hose trying to cover the hole. Eventually I just ran to my car and quickly drove away.

I don't think vengeance is my forte. It was later pointed out to me that I could just have turned off the tap. Shucks... ;)

William John.

New tastes, but don't mention the war...

"Have you had lunch?" is how I was greeted as I arrived at the door of my new home yesterday to drop off some boxes. It being 9 0'clock at night, I was rather perplexed.

Ming's dear girlfriend, Annie, corrected him. "Would you like to have dinner with the family?"

Having spent the evening packing, I didn't really fit in much food. Though, I did buy a packet of Smith's Cheese and Onion chips that I snacked on for a few minutes.

"That sounds nice." I replied, and was lead into the kitchen where, what I gathered, lay a 'local traditional winter asian meal' on the table. It was called a 'Hot Pot'. In the center of the table was an electric wok filled with a range of foods and boiling water. Surrounding this was a number of plates holding a range of food, some of which were 'a part of a cow... not sure which part'.
That was fine by me. Probably best not to ask too many questions.

The family kept telling me how intelligent I must be. How nice I am and all. Dear God... I'm expecting some kind of altar in my honor when I go back again today. And I won't be humble about it, either. I want blood sacrifices! ;)

So much warmth, everyone smiling and talking and laughing. It's funny how many laughs my attempts to use chopsticks can get. The whole table watched me every time I tried. The dad thought it was hilarious! (I cried inside at my lack of culture :)

Then dessert came. Something to cool the mouth down, maybe? No. We couldn't have that. The mouth must be kept at 1000 degrees at all times, otherwise it's cheating. It was some kind of plum, date and dragoneye bean soup. Very traditional... I assume.

Ming started calling me little brother in Mandarin... di-di? Gey-gey? Meh... there was a few words going around... I can't be expected to remember them all. I started calling him big brother. I forget how.

May the niceness of these great people never end.

William John.
PS. If you happen to meet them, don't mention Japan! Or Sony! If you happen to have a tamagotchi on you, one of those electronic pets, you're going to have to stop feeding it, too. It's evil. :)

Virage à gauche à l' Red Rooster...

In a few days I will be moving into a new place. I will be connected to cable internet in my new place. And, with webcams so absolutely cheap, and the space in the room such that the camera will only ever be pointed at the bed, I can amuse y'all with my erratic sleeping patterns. And... if anyone in the house sneaks into my room for some impromptu "uglies-bumping" while I am away, it will also be entertaining... I suppose. And disturbing. And entertaining, too. And informative, even. :)

Anyhow, I won't be getting a webcam. There would be too much resposibility on my head if I had to put on a show all the time.

God, I loved the house I've called home for the past year, but it is time to move on. After all, this morning I woke up to find some friendly vomit dripping from the vanity unit of the bathroom and some mysterious pool of liquid on the floor of the toilet. Chicken left in the fridge is one thing, but I didn't hear anyone complaining about the new guy and his mate urinating on the floor and leaving the stench of their vomit to permeate the air. The new guy even tried to joke to me about it, laughing and all, apologetic. What an idiot. I didn't laugh back.

This will be the last post about them. From Monday, they are just morons in an objective world.

I'm moving just 3 minutes away, but closer to another major road. In fact, I got lost for half an hour because I didn't want to turn my car around and return in the direction I came. So I just went along the new major road in which I would have to get accustomed, and got caught in traffic going the wrong direction. I don't really get stressed when I am driving, but I am terrible when it comes to actually getting anywhere. I just keep driving until I see some landmark. And if it takes half an hour to find a Red Rooster that I just may be familiar with, then so damned well be it!

Sigh... I'll try and learn how to read a map. If only I had someone to buy me one of those luxury cars with GPS satellite navigation. (I know you can buy them separately... but I'd like the car, too. Thank you. :)

William John.