No More Mice!

I have now been rodent-free for almost a week. And it's soooo great. I can cook and not have to worry about the rodents having marched all over my cookie sheets before me. I can leave dishes in the drainer to dry, like normal people do. I can wake up in the morning, walk into my kitchen, and not see rodent turds scattered everywhere.

It's so great.

In celebration, I have purchased a small brown stuffed mouse from IKEA, which either my daughter or my dog is giving me for Christmas. (Originally I was trying to convince my daughter to give it to me. But she doesn't want to. She's okay with wrapping it, but would rather that the present were from the dog. Okay, fine.)

I figure I can always use it as a little vodoo mouse if they come back.

Rodent Update

Round XXIVICIVIXIII of the mouse infestation, and the rodents are winning. By a lot. So here's what we've got so far:
1) Wooden traps with peanut butter
2) Wooden traps with peanut butter and sesame seeds (to give them something to nibble on, keep them there long enough to get smacked)
3) Poison bait
4) Glue traps
5) Exterminator (who apprently seems to only have left a different kind of bait. Is it a different flavor? I don't know. So, the mice ignored it for a few days, and then made off with it. But did not die from exposure, because a week later, they were still there, but the bait was gone.)
6) Wooden traps with smashed up bits of dog biscuit (they really seem to like these things, having bitten a hole in the bag and dragged an entire dog biscuit behind the oven, just to leave it there)
7) Another exterminator visit, more of bait type #2. So far the bait is still there, and so are the mice. The more cleaning I do, the more mouse scat I find. I mean, it's on the window sill in my bedroom. But that's the only place in my bedroom that I can find it. Not the floor, the closet (which has been thoroughly cleaned due to pending holiday), the dresser, under the bed, behind the bookshelf, under the dresser/desk, etc. Also, I live on the second floor. Of a brick apartment building. So, do these mice have rapelling equipment that they have used to infiltrate my particular apartment? Also, how did they get in through my window without it being open? Or, did they come in through the central heat/AC ducts in the ceiling (again: rapelling equipment). And: Who is making mouse-size rapelling equipment?! Someone should really look into that, because I wouldn't think there would be much of a market.

So now I'm really looking into option W: rent-a-cat (or borrow, really). Several of my co-workers have offered to let me borrow their cats' for a week. This saves me the trouble of getting one myself (my dog chases cats, which raises an initial problem with the borrow-a-cat for a week situation. But I could find someone to watch him for a week. Especially if it solves the rodent issue. But the more pressing matter of getting my own cat, besides the constant dog-chasing-cat cacophany that I would not want to deal with, is the pet care and maintenance required when one actually owns the cat. On top of already owning a dog. In an apartment). This solution makes the most sense to me, in the biological area. It's the biological solution. No need for nasty traps that you can get your fingers stuck in, or that fly across the kitchen as you are trying to set them, spraying peanut butter and dog biscuits everywhere. No need for glue traps that your kids constantly want to play with. No need for rodent poison that you're worried the dog may eat. It's a biological solution. I see an open market waiting to be tapped: rent-a-cat. Seriously. I mean, apparently Japan is a bit ahead of us on this, companion-pet-wise, but I am thinking biological-control-wise. Some pest company should look into this. It would give the cat ladies of the world something a little more useful to do.

I have also learned two things about mice I thought worth sharing. First, they only eat rice cakes when all other resources have been exhausted. Secondly, no matter how hungry they are, they will not eat peeps. I guess they don't recognize them as food. I had left an open box of peeps out on the dog crate, and they just didn't go for them. Even when I tried to use them to lure them to the glue traps. I wonder if that should tell us something. I wonder if you could even train a mouse to want to eat a peep. Or if that would be considered animal cruelty. Hmmmm.

Anyway, if you've got a cat you'd like to lend me, let me know.

Mix Lists

I've been inspired, so here are my mix lists, after quite some time of thought. Well, not so much with Chickie's. Mostly they are songs on my cds that she likes listening to. But my list is for any guy out there who is thinking of writing a me a love song someday (Chris Martin, are you reading this?). Mush all these songs together and make something beautiful out of them please.

Chickie Mix
1. Mocean Worker – Chick A Boom Boom
2. T.A.T.U. – Malchik Gei (AKA “My Chickie”)
3. Mike Doughty – Put It Down
4. Ting Tings – Great DJ
5. Ozomatli – Love and Hope
6. Cat Empire – Fishies
7. Mike Doughty – More Bacon than the Pan Can Handle
8. Ting Tings – That’s Not My Name
9. Ozomatli – Saturday Night

If Someone Wanted to Write Me a Love Song…
1. Cat Empire – Lullaby
2. Rocco deLuca – Colorful
3. Coldplay – Yellow
4. Savage Garden – Truly Madly Deeply
5. Killers – Read My Mind
6. Mike Doughty – Wednesday (No se Apoye)
7. Five O’Clock People – Sorry
8. Block Party – Sunday
9. Rilo Kiley – I Never
10. Coldplay – Strawberry Swing
11. Snow Patrol – Hands Open
12. New Pornographers – Adventures in Solitude

Elefun with a 4-year-old

So if you got that title, you either have kids or play with them regularly. As many of us are aware, small children are very literal people. When I asked my daughter what she wanted to get Toby (our Corgi) for Christmas, she immediately answered, as if she had been considering this for months and months and was only waiting for someone to ask her, "Reindeer antlers and a sweater."

My immediate response, upon imagining the poor animal in a sweater (I am against dressing up non-stuffed animals. Period), was to tell her, "We can't put Toby in a sweater."

"Oh, that's ok. We can get him a vest."

So, while I'm impressed at her knowledge of fashion (I mean, who wears vests these days?), I realize that she is taking me literally, and that I am still left to explain that we are not putting any clothes on the dog. Reindeer antlers being the exception. Also, he is allowed to eat them afterwards, should he so choose.

So, using this to my advantage, I have convinced my daughter that there are elephants living upstairs. As you may have guessed, the people up there are a little noisy. She, being nosy, is always wanting to know what every single noise is. So, one night I just told her that they had let their elephants out to exercise. And then she wanted to know how many they had, and what they were doing, etc.

So this is what we have speculated:
1) They have somewhere between 2 and 16 elephants.
2) Their kitchen is located over our bathroom.
3) Elephants need a lot of exercise.
4) Elephants eat grass. Maybe.

Yesterday morning, as we were eating breakfast, she asked me if maybe, possibly, there actually were not elephants up there. I asked why she thought that. And she said that we hadn't heard any "rooing" sounds coming from their trunks. (Pretty good logic for a 4-year-old). So, I applauded her reasoning skills. Then I also gave her some more information, since I happen to know a little about this.

Elephants can make noises so low that people can't actually hear them. We didn't know they were making these noises until we recorded them, sped up the recordings, and then listened to them.

Elephants also communicate with their feet. This is usually used for long-distance communication. They 'stamp' and those receiving the signals have special mechanoreceptors (Pacinian corpuscles) in their feet which allow them to receive the signals. This has been especially studied in the Asian elephants (Elephas maximus).

She actually seemed to absorb most of what I was saying about the elephant communication. And now we're back to figuring out how many elephants there are upstairs. I just hope she doesn't decide to try to invite them over some night to visit.

The Rodent Revolution will Not be Televised

or will it?



I believe that I have warned before about the coming Rodentia Revolution. We have done so many experiments on those animals (just type in "rodent" in Google scholar and see what you get). Here is a sample:

Leptin levels in human and rodent: Measurement of plasma leptin and ob RNA in obese and weight-reduced subjects

Evidence for higher rates of nucleotide substitution in rodents than in man

Too many rodent carcinogens: mitogenesis increases mutagenesis

And that was just the first page.

It seems that they may be starting their revolution in my kitchen. A few weeks ago (four) I noticed their little turds on my counter one morning. And found that they were inhabiting under my kitchen sink. So I did what any sane person would do - I cleaned every available counter space, cleaning anything they could have possibly touched, and put mouse traps under the sink with peanut butter on them. That night I caught one - and only one - mouse.

Apparently that was the stupid one.

Since then, I have resorted to
1) More traps.
2) More peanut butter. (They have been eating the p.b. off the traps. Keep in mind, I can barely put these traps in there, because the mere movement of putting the trap down sets them off. I am beginning to think that these rodents have the ability to levitate).
3) Poison.
4) Glue traps.
5) All of the above.

So far, all I have gotten is less peanut butter and more turds. This is very frustrating on my part. Apparently, they have evolved the ability to thwart mouse traps (plural! They poop next to the traps) and also the ability to annoy me into cursing. Also, they are obviously inviting friends over for parties on top of (and I said on top of) my dog's crate (which is large enough that I can fit into it. Now how do they get on top of it? By climbing up the wall with their suction cup feet?).

Are these X-men-type mice I'm dealing with? Maybe I need a video camera.

But be warned you rodents. The exterminator comes Friday. Then we shall see who wins.

Excavation

Recently, archaeologists found a ~1,800-year-old bronze-coated chariot in a Thracian tomb in Bulgaria. The chariot is painted with figures from Thracian mythology, including a jumping panther and an animal that contains a panther's body and a dolphin's tail. Horse remains were located near the chariot. Incidentally, I know nothing about the Thracians, but the article mentions that, "Thracians were an Indo-European nomadic people who settled in the central Balkans around 5,000 years ago." (Toshkov 2008). Wikipedia also provides some information on Thracians and references, for some quick information. Numerous archaeological digs have discovered tombs from these people; however, looters often find the tombs before scientists, and leave little behind.

A few months ago I went to the Maryland Science Center with my daughter and some friends. Their "feature" exhibit is "Dinosaur Mysteries," which is aimed towards children, in which one is allowed to excavate dinosaurs, create your own dinosaur (and email it to someone), pretend to be a baby dinosaur in a nest, put together dinosaur bones in a large 'puzzle', etc. The dinosaur excavation was reminiscent of a child's sandbox, with volunteers covering 'bones' (plastic molded bones in a pre-formed area) with sand, and the children uncovering them with large brushes. You could do it as many times as you wanted, and they would continue to re-cover it with sand as many times as you wanted. I guess there's always the really small children who still don't recognize that a toy still exists if you can't see it under the blanket (and are so happy when it comes out from under that blanket). I forget the scientific name for that though.

I also took a class once on 'Art of the Ancient Americas' during my undergraduate. One of our activities was to conduct a mock archaeological dig. This is tedious work. From what I remember, we had to first find an area of likely 'remains,' mark it off, and then 'dig' very slowly and tediously. Any finds were then excavated at toothbrush speed, with tools that much resembled toothbrushes. It is not surprising that looters often raid areas before scientists, but it is sad. It is surprising that, in this age of high-tech, high-speed, get-back-to-me-on-your-fax-mobile-blackberry-car phone-email we have not found faster means to uncover these relics than slow manual labor. I guess there's just not a market for that? It is unfortunate that mankind may be losing historical artifacts and genealogical data (especially in an age when we have so much scientific analysis available to us) due to simple theft. Maybe one day it will matter more. But then will it be too late?

Review of Smashing Pumpkins Concert

The week of Halloween, I won tickets to go see the Smashing Pumpkins in concert at Constitution Hall in DC. The concert was on Veterans Day, 11/11/08 (they played two shows down there, so if you by some chance saw the other one, which may have been different, maybe what I’m going to say doesn’t apply). Let me just say right off that I’m not a huge fan of the Pumpkins. I have respect for them as musicians, which is why I am willing to see them. But I hate Billy Corgan’s voice, which is why I will never actually pay to go see them. My free seats were pretty good. I was on the floor, but not so far back that I couldn’t see the stage, and not so close that I was wishing I wasn’t.

So we all know that the man is weird. He started the show wearing something that made me think he was trying to be an Egyptian. This long white skirt thing (which he wore for the rest of the concert as far as I could tell) and a gold sun headdress. The thing had to be the size of my 30-lb Corgi, and heavy. He wore it for a few songs, and then took it off. I imagine it’s hard to headbang with something like that on. But when he did take it off, he reminded me a bit of Moby. A little bigger version of Moby. Skinny and bald. I really did expect him to be bigger than that.

The sound was done very well. You could hear each instrument. And it wasn’t all guitars and drums either. There was a trumpet, a trombone, and a flute player. And the flute player was hot. Also, he held the flute like people were going to make fun of him for playing it (I think there may be some issues he has to work out there, but hey, he can do it, he made it this far). The drummer was also hot, but he was usually behind the huge drum kit (which, incidentally, was very well micced. I would love to know what kind and how they used their microphones on that puppy). He came out a few times from behind it – to play the tambourine – and also, apparently, to show off his muscley arms.

The lights – not so much. They seemed to have been prepared for a much larger, maybe outdoors-type, facility. The lights were loud, bright, and colorful. But also, there was this repetitive, colorful, strobe-light-the-audience effect that I did not appreciate. A lot of the time I had to keep my eyes shut to prevent a migraine; I can only imagine if I were prone to seizures what could have happened. It was nice though, that there was no smoke machine. As a person with asthma, those things can cause me to have to actually leave.

The musicians were all very good (BC’s voice notwithstanding). I have learned to live with the voice. And he didn’t sing the whole time. Sometimes he actually played for 10 straight minutes - and you thought this is nice - and then he would sing again. What was strange to me though, because I have never, ever, experienced this before in any concert that I’ve been to, is that he played for the first hour and a half. I mean played. No talking, no break, just played. It was like a feat of stamina. I don’t even know if he took a break for water (which he definitely did afterwards). It was weird. There were the people in the audience, those people who annoy the crap out of me, that act like they are the only ones at the show, who know every line to every song, and dance and jump, and pump their fist like they are the only ones there (that’s what mosh pits are for people!). And after 1.5 hours of music, BC was still hopping around stage, and they were tired. That was cool to see, but other than that it was just plain weird.

After the 1.5 hours there was a few minute intermission (water break) and something I can only assume was vocal/mouth exercises. BC was 1)beatboxing and 2)making the popping sound that you practice as a teenager to impress your friends, only he did it up on stage in front of everyone. And then he passed it off as a song he made up, right there on the spot, just for us. Which just goes to show you that he is just as weird in a normal way as the rest of us, but not afraid to share the normal weirdness either. Which I find reassuring.

But what followed that was this ten minute screechy-screechy thing (evolution? Is that one of their songs?) that was so awful I about left in the middle of it. When they were done angsting, things softened out and I was glad that I had stayed. I do appreciate the range of their musical ability. I mean, the fact that they can get up there and do what they do, and have that many people pay them for it has to say something.

And now, I have to confess that I only lasted for 2 hours. I have no idea how long the concert went. But they’re job is to be up there on that stage, and I got there for free, so I feel like I got what I paid for. I am glad that I went to see them. And although I may never love the Pumpkins, I can appreciate them and I definitely respect them as musicians.

License Plates

In the past week I have run across two license plates that I think are worth mentioning, if only because they keep running across my mind. Perhaps by posting them I will be able to get them out of my brain. They are both MD plates, so limited to 7 letters.

The first one is "DA TRUF" found on a little yellow sports car, occasionally parked in my apartment complex. I guess it's supposed to be "Da Truf" as in, "You can't handle ---- -----". But to me, it looks more like "Rhymes with 'tough.'" (New Kids on the Block anyone?) And that's how I hear it in my head any time I see it.

The other one I saw on 97 heading towards Annapolis this past weekend. It read "SQRLKER". Now, as I drove on and on and on towards Tuckahoe State Park (weekend destination, take your dog! take your horse!), I pondered the possible meanings of this plate:
- Square liker
- Squirrel liker
- Squirrel licker
I realize that there are not two "L"s in the license plate. But, honestly, it seems more reasonable to have a personal plate about squirrels than squares.

Other suggestions welcome.

Remember those Balloons?

I remember in elementary school, every spring we would release balloons. We would write our name and school address on them, and have this school-wide balloon-releasing fete. It was so awesome, watching all those colored balloons float away, polluting the rivers and streams and trees. Since it was a rural school with lots of trees, most of them probably never even left the school grounds and got stuck in trees to bother local birds. But some made it to other states even, with their postcards, to be mailed back by whoever found them. And they got put up on a map for all the school to see. None of mine ever got found or mailed back. And now they no longer do this, due to concerns for the environment. One less tradition to share with my daughter. (I have, however, managed to find a CD-ROM of Oregon Trail. So, if I can get my old computer running and keep it running until she is old enough to read, we can spend hours trying to kill those pesky squirrels.)

Moving on. Apparently scientists are still creative. Some of this suspected this all along (but hey, we might be prejudiced). Anyway, NASA scientists are working with other scientists around the world to study global warming, particularly in the Jakobshavn Glacier of Greenland. Basically, they want to know where the melting water is going. Their prediction is Baffin Bay, but the high-tech probes that were supposed to confirm this failed. So, instead, they launched a brigade of 90 rubber ducks labeled "with an e-mail address and the words "science experiment" and "reward" written in English, Danish and the native Inuit language." Personally, I think this is awesome, and I hope it works. We'll see where they end up.

I hope they have better luck than I did with my balloons.

Secrets of the Universe, eh?

Well, I'm getting reactionary, older and wiser, or sophomoric. Anyway, this week's article is entitled, "Sept launch for bid to crack secrets of universe" (Reuters, August 7, 2008). Ok, so I understand the need to be dramatic to sell news. But what the particle accerlator supposedly will do is this (again, more quoting), "help explain fundamental questions such as how particles acquire mass. They will also probe the mysterious dark matter of the universe and investigate why there is more matter than antimatter."

So, are these indeed the fundamental questions? What about the ones on my list:
- Why do men think differently than women? (i.e. directions, feelings, raising children, having children, etc. etc. etc.)
- What is it about young children and "why" questions?
- What are people irresitibly attracted to accidents?
- Are humans intrinsically good or evil?
- What, exactly, is the soul? (Do animals have one? If so, what animals? Primates? Lower animals?)
- What makes humans different than animals?

Okay, so I know that a particle accelerator cannot answer these questions for me. But the article writers really shouldn't get my hopes up like that.

Who Cares About Kevin Bacon?

So I just read this article in the Washington Post, confirming that anyone on earth is only about six (in reality its more like seven) degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon. Ignoring for a moment the facets of Kevin Bacon that make him, to me, a eerily creepy individual (I'm sure he's a nice guy, but there's just something about him...), let's go to how the grand conclusion was made.

Researchers initially did this through mathematical computations (ok).

And then decided to confirm it with a month-long study of our Instant Messaging habits.

The study was conducted by Eric Horvitz and Jure Leskovec, and published in June 2007. They state that they did not have access to the content of the IMs, but instead, " (1) user demographic information, (2) time and user stamped events describing the presence of a particular user, and (3) communication session logs, where, for all participants, the number of exchanged messages and the periods of time spent participating in sessions is recorded."

Does this freak anyone else out? How did they obtain this demographic information, etc.? Was I unintentionally a part of this study? I don't want to be anywhere near Kevin Bacon, period. Thank you.

Okay, now that I'm done ranting, they did find some interesting things:

1) Some IM conversations contained more than 50 participants (I cannot even imagine that. I can't imagine even a normal conversation with that many people. I would actually like to see the demographic for that conversation. I imagine it is teenyboppers, but that's just me).

2) Of course, 99% of the conversations were between only 2 people.

3) One of the pitfalls of many experiments is the lack of large enough sampling size. In this study, this does not seem to be the case. Need proof? "We gathered data for 30 days of June 2006. Each day yielded about 150 gigabytes of compressed text logs (4.5 terabytes in total). Copying the data to a dedicated eight-processor server with 32 gigabytes of memory took 12 hours. Our log-parsing system employed a pipeline of four threads that parse the data in parallel, collapse the session oin/leave events into sets of conversations, and save the data in a compact ompressed binary format. This process compressed the data down to 45 gigabytes per day. Processing the data took an additional 4 to 5 hours per day."

4) For users submitting an age (6.5% chose not too), the age group of 15-35 represents a larger share of the IM population when compared to the planetary population. See the chart pictured for a comparison with the world population (The bars are IM population; the lines down the center world population).


5) Some population demographics: People tend to talk to people of similar age, and older people tend to talk longer. People who are further apart geographically communicate via Messenger more often than those who are closer. Also, people tend to communicate more with people of the opposite gender.

6) The average social distance (i.e. degrees of separation) was measured to be seven between IM users. The longest social distance measured was 29.

They took their information during the month of June 2006. Think to yourself now, were you using IM during that time? If so, you were a part of this study.

So, how many degrees from Kevin Bacon are you? And are you ok with that?

Bees, All the Way

I can remember the last time, before this year, when I was stung. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but it was around seven or eight. I was at my grandparents house in CT, playing tag with my cousins. We were running around their yard, and I fell down in the front yard. I landed on the bee. With my knee. I remember my Aunt D, the nurse, scraping the stinger out and putting a paste of baking soda on it, and laying on the couch with my leg up. But I didn't blame the bee. After all, I landed on it, it didn't try to sting me on purpose.



Last month, I was sitting in my truck doing paperwork, and all of a sudden my bum started to really, really hurt. Enough that I thought I was sitting on something sharp, only I also started feeling naseous. Apparently, a bee had wandered in through my open windows, and I had unknowingly sat on it. Like any good biologist, I did not remove the stinger. And I was not near any ice, so it didn't get ice until at least 20 minutes later. However, besides the stomach issue, there weren't any problems. I was fine by the next day. But I put the dead bee on my dashboard as a warning to other bees.

So, this week. My daughter was out on the patio painting. I went out to see how she was doing. And a yellow jacket (there were a bunch flying around, I have no idea how she didn't get stung) comes out of the bottom corner and attacks my hand. I was a bit angry I guess, and thinking, as it is placing it's stinger in my hand "I don't want it stinging me again, I'd better take it out" I smack it, rendering it dead, and also stuck in my finger. At this point my daughter has noticed the yellow jackets and is a little, well a lot, hysterical. Meanwhile, I've got a bug stuck in and on my finger, and lots more flying around, and a 4-year-old to try to get inside, and lots of pain. After a few minutes of screaming (I would have picked her up, but I only had one hand and she's rather tall for a munchkin), I got her inside and went inside myself. Then I removed the stinger and put ice on, and went back outside for the painting supplies, which were the cause of the hysteria (you try explaining to a hysterical 4-year-old that the "bees" aren't going to hurt her paints).



So, my finger gets all swollen and red. And stays that way for the next 2 days. And itches and hurts. And my hand starts to also swell, and the next finger too. Also, I am still naseous. At this point I'm thinking that this is not an ordinary sting. After a Saturday trip to the doctor, all my worrying and whining about the pain is vindicated. I have an infection. Now, not only was I viciously attacked by that insect, it infected me, and after I did all the correct things. What's the deal? Give me the bees anytime. They are much nicer, and apparently less full of bacteria, at least in my limited (2-to-1) experience.

What is a pet?

Courtesy of the PA State Parks website:

A house pet is limited to any dog or cat commonly kept in household captivity, or a caged pet.

A caged pet is an animal that will not be released from its cage for the duration of its stay in the state park, like birds and hamsters.

A pet is not livestock, like horses, cows, pigs, sheep and goats.

A pet is not a vicious or dangerous animal, like any animal with a history of attacking without provocation.


So, hey, take your hamster camping!

Peep House of Horrors

So I had a graduation party for myself last Saturday, because I am so happy to be graduated, and it was a reason to invite everyone over. And we made Peep dioramas. So I thought I would post them below, since everyone decided to leave them at my house for my dog to drool over and my daughter to play with (and, given their violent content, this is no easy thing to explain to her. "Why is this one in a cage Mommy? What are these ones doing Mommy? What is this one doing Mommy?"). I would also like to note, for the record, that certain people refused to participate in this very, very fun activity. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.


This is Cheryl's happy summery peep rendition, perhaps the only non-violent one of the bunch.


Anna's peep C-section.



Jason's peep siege/battle. Chickie wanted to know what the catapult was. She thought it was some weird sort of see-saw.




This is Justin's. I think it's some sort of hunting thing. Chickie was very disturbed by the peep in the cage, and really, really wants to set it free. What can I say, like mother, like daughter.



Alicia's "Lord of the Peeps".


Chad's Pirate Peeps. Note the violent use of toothpicks in what, at first glance, seems like a nice sailboat outing.




Dana's "Peep Extinction Theories: 1) Glaciers, 2) Peep-Pox, 3) Meteors, 4) Alien Abduction"


Sean's Peeps in a boat.


This is mine, and yes, it's Peeps roasting other Peeps over a fire. See this post for explanation.

Microphobia R Us

Once upon a time I worked as a Teaching Assistant, teaching Intro to Biology Labs. One of the labs that we did with the students was to provide them agar plates (used to grow bacteria and molds). They divided it into four quadrants. We gave them 4 toothpicks, which they rubbed on any surface they wanted, and then rubbed each toothpick on a quadrant. The next week they came back to see what “grew” in each quadrant. Gross and true: the bottom of your shoe is usually cleaner than a doorknob. Good intro to Microbiology. So this lab was really good at the visual effect, and grossing students out (also, never, ever, ever eat anything off a lab bench, no matter how well you think you cleaned or disinfected it. I don’t care about the 5-second rule. It does not apply in the laboratory.). But it stopped there. I mean, it didn’t explain anything about hand-washing (getting the microbes off your hands before they get to your mouth – most infections get to you through the oral route you know). It also failed to discuss the immune system, and how exposure to microbes is how you build immunological memory and antibodies. Without exposure, you have none of that. And really, we are exposed to billions and billions of those things every single day. It’s not until we see it on that agar plate that we are grossed out.



We have become this microbophobic society. We have antimicrobial handwash, babywipes, soaps, spray, lotion, bugspray, dishsoap, pesticides, etc. We have automatic flush toilets, automatic sinks, automatic towel dispensers, automatic hand dryers, automatic soap dispensers. Okay, so who cares that we are wasting water, one of our most important resources? Personally, I do not need my bum washed while I am on the can. Also, everyone uses their foot to flush normal toilets anyway, so why not just do what everyone is already doing, and make them foot-flush toilets? It would save on water, and we wouldn’t have to worry about getting wet bums. And there’s got to be a better way to engineer sinks. Some of the ones with the long handles allow you to turn them on and off with your elbows. That, at least, makes elbows useful for something else besides hitting your sister (and hey, if she gets a few extra germs, why do you care?). Automatic hand dryers I generally avoid, unless they are those Xcelerator dryers that are super-turbo charged, to the point where they actually move your skin around and dry your hands in something like 3.5 seconds. I am fascinated by them something unnatural. But automatic soap dispensers just scare me. First of all, they are just weird. Secondly, they all make some kind of growling noise that must reach back deep into the depths and recall something primal inside of me that says, “RUN, something is trying to eat you!” Because that is what I feel like doing. Also, if there is anything in the bathroom that you should be able to touch, I would think it would be the soap dispenser, right?

There’s got to be a better solution. I propose that we take some of the engineers who work on baby stuff (have you seen some of the stuff they make? The Pack-n-Play? I mean, this stuff is amazing) and set them to work. These people are brilliant. Of course, we can't take all of them; we wouldn’t want the kids to suffer. But just a few of their minds would at least improve the situation I think.

Feminization du Monde

Rachel Carson's Silent Spring has been credited much with forcing society to take a larger look at what chemicals we are putting into the environment, and what effects that has in the long-term, for the health of the environment, ecology, other species, and ourselves. Of particular note was the use of the pesticide DDT and its effect on bird eggs, which were noticably thinner, as well as on the reproductive capacity of birds. DDT has also been found to affect alligators in Florida, effectively "feminizing" the males; build-up of the compound in the system blocks the androgens (male hormone) in their system. Interestingly, sometimes these "environmental estrogens" actually physically mimic and resemble their natural counterparts, while other times they simply use the same mechanisms (McLachlan and Arnold, American Scientist, 1996). These compounds have since been implicated in adverse health effects, ranging from increased allergies to cancer.

So, how might one come into contact with these estrogen-mimicking compounds? One way is as easy as mastication. Phytoestrogens (estrogen or estrogen-like compounds found in plants) can be found in clover, soybeans, other legumes such as rye, and some fruits and veggies. Then there are some that are due to fungal growth (mycoestrogens) which grow on grains; the grain is then fed to the cattle; or the mycoestrogen is used to create a hormonal supplement that is given to the cattle; either way it is present in small amounts in the cattle (hormonally supplemented meat). Mycoestrogens (from fungus) were also used at one time to produce a type of birth control; this was revolutionary since it was a non-steroidal source.

Okay, now onto more environmental estrogens introduced by humans (source here):
- pesticides (as mentioned previously insecticides like DDT, endosulfan, dieldrin, methoxychlor, toxaphene, chlordane; herbicides such as alachlor, atrazine and nitrofen; fungicides such as benomyl, mancozeb and tributyl tin; nematocides such as aldicarb adn dibromochloropropane)
- products associated with plastics (bisphenol A, phthalates)
- medications (drug estrogens - birth control pills, DES, cimetidine)
- ordinary household products (breakdown products of detergents and associated surfactants, including nonylphenol and octylphenol)
- industrial chemicals (polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs), dioxin and benzo(a)pyrene)
- heavy metals (lead, mercury, and cadmium)


But, it does not seem to be enough that our environment, our fellow creatures, and our physiological bodies are becoming feminized. Our culture appears to be trending that direction as well. Or at least making the attempt. Maybe it just wants to 'fit in'. Maybe it's something I just haven't caught on to. But whatever it was, it bothered me throughout the entire movie. I am talking about Barnyard. The first few minutes were okay, because none of the cows were really talking. But once they starting talking, and you realized that ALL the cows had udders, even the MALES, it was disturbing! After that, I really had a hard time paying attention. And at the end of the movie, when the little calf is born, the midwife-cow says, "It's a boy!", all I could think was "How can you tell?" I mean, I'm not saying we need to be all realistic or anything, or even Barbie-prim and put fake plastic clothing on certain parts. But, really, udders on all of them? Do you think the PG-audience (check, the movie is RATED PG) will not recognize the cows if they do not all have udders? Or even that, say, those younger children whose parents are letting them watch this movie, will not realize that they are watching a bunch of cows running around? Because, really, I think we get the point. Personally, I was sold with the spots.

The Downfall of Mankind

So I was having a discussion with a guy the other day, and he said that men liking women was the Downfall of Mankind. Now, I can see this being the case, for social and power-struggle type reasons.

But look at it the other way. Men liking men could also be the Downfall of Mankind. If simply for biological reasons.

However, I would like to add this point (especially since I was having this discussion with a guy): he did not argue with me that the Downfall of Mankind was The Man's Fault.

Women in the Sciences (Or, My Week)

As part of earning my Bachelors in Biology, I was required to take a "Capstone" course in Natural Sciences. A section of this course involved learning about Women in the Sciences, and the struggles that they had gone through to make a place for current women in the sciences. The fact that early women who had chosen to have a scientific career had not also had the option to have a family; that they had been derided for their choice of career over family; that their intellect had been insulted constantly; that they often did not receive proper credit for their ideas; but that they chose to persist anyways. The idea was that, for the most part, this was not the case today, and that the current problem was convincing women to choose scientific careers rather than other available options.

So I work in a scientific discipline. Often my supervisor (also a woman) and I visit sites together, because we work well together. Often I am out alone. These days I am usually the only woman on the site.

This week:
- I was asked if I was on match.com (before you get your hopes up, no, I'm not).
- I was whistled at by a contractor before I had even finished approaching the group of men on the site.

Now, let me say this: being whistled at is not a compliment as far as I'm concerned, especially when I am there to do a job. This is at least the fourth time it's happened (although not the strangest. Once it was a mailman driving by. One expects better things from our postal servicemen.) Also, so far as I know, I have yet to be whistled at when I'm not working. And, as far as I know, none of the guys I work with have been whistled at, so it's not a Hey-Let's-Annoy-the-State-Worker kind of thing either.

So, men, what's the deal?

All Lost in the Supermarket

Okay, so I hate grocery shopping. Which means that I do my best to avoid it as much as possible, stretching it out until I absolutely run out of milk. Which is basically every two weeks, if I'm lucky. The location of my store is nice, in that I can walk to it in less than 15 minutes. But I don't know where everything is, and I am convinced that they know ahead of time, somehow, what I am going to need that week, and are determined to be out of at least one item. Or at least not stock it. On purpose. Much like one of my sisters, growing up, would intuitively know what sweater I would decide to wear the next morning, and would sneak it out of my closet the night before. I mean, I didn't even know what I was going to wear until I got up, so how did she always manage to pick that very sweater the night before?

So yesterday Chickie and I went grocery shopping, mainly because I was down to my last 1/3 cup of milk. And needed other stuff too. And I think the people in the grocery store are starting to know me a little, mainly as "that woman who rants and raves about stuff." Which is probably not good, but they haven't thrown me out yet. Yesterday there was no whole wheat raisin bread. But, they also keep this on the top shelf, so I have to stand on all the other shelves in order to find this out. So not only do I look like a nut standing on the shelf (and setting a nice example for my 4-year-old), I am also a little peeved when I find out that they are completely out of what I am looking for. Which means I start verbally railing against the shelving and the other people who took all the bread. The only solution I can think of at this point is disco shoes.

So, at other points, I have also ranted and raved, while pacing in the aisle, about:
- The lack of pure maple syrup at this store. Sorry, I do not like fake syrup.
- My inability, after much searching, to locate the rice cakes. Are they with the snack food, the cereal, the popcorn, what??? Do they just not sell rice cakes at that store?
- They have a bakery department, which sells lots of kinds of bread and bagels. They do not, however, make or sell individual donuts. What is up with that? Especially when those are used by certain of us mothers to bribe our children into behaving at the grocery store.
- This store only sells red grapes. Also, they are not out with the rest of the produce, but are hidden away in a little dark inlet, as if intended for some secret grape-sacrificing ceremony, and not for public consumption.

I think those are the only things so far, although I'm sure there will be more in the future. That's just the kind of relationship I have with this store.

Long Live the Mycophycophyta!

I bet you have no idea what that word means, but don’t worry, I’m getting there. Mycophycophyta is the phylum name for Lichens. Since I took a Fungi course last fall, I thought I would elaborate on some interesting points I learned about lichens, since they really are pretty cool. Lichens, in case you were not aware, are a mutualistic symbioses between a fungus and either an algae species or a species of cyanobacteria. The fungus brings in the water and minerals, while the algae/cyanobacteria brings home the carbon compounds. Most lichens are 95% fungus, so the fungus gets to be boss and determine the shape of the organism. There are classifications based on shape, but we won’t get into that here, since that is not interesting to most people. However, lichens do not have any roots or absorptive organs, and live without soil, so they are dependent on rain for nutrients. This makes them very sensitive to pollution; so if you see them in an area, it is a good indicator of clean air.

Now for some interesting facts:


- Usnea fillipendula (“fishbone beard lichen”) contains usnic acid, which is a natural antibiotic. It has been used since ancient times throughout the world as a remedy.
- Cladinas are the lichens you see used for shrubbery on your grandfather’s train set.
- Parmelia omphalodes and P. saxatilis have been used by the Scots, Irish, and Laplanders to make dye. However, lichens only grow 1-10 mm a year, so these species tend to quickly become rare, and synthetic dyes are more commonly used now.
- Litmus paper is made from lichen.
- Due to the slow growth rate of lichens, they have been used to date rock surfaces (such as cracks caused by faults and shifting bedrock). Lichens have also been used to date surfaces when carbon dating fails. A minimum date is determined using the diameter of the largest lichen at a site. For more, see: Armstrong, R.A. (2004). Lichens, Lichenometry and Global Warming. Microbiologist, 9: 32-35.
- Lichens are also being explored as a natural alternative for herbicides and pesticides. Usnic acid, a product of some lichens, inhibits cartenoid synthesis, which bleaches the leaves of some plants (this results in a decline in chlorophylls and carotenoids). Synthetically created versions have already been used in creating herbicides. Other lichen products, such as depsides, barbatic acid, and lecanorin, act as PSII inhibiting herbicides, through the interruption of photosynthetic electron transport in chloroplasts. For more information, see: Becker 2001 and Dayan and Romagni 2001.
- Lichens are not poisonous, and can be considered ‘edible’, if, say, you are hopelessly lost in the woods and out of food; or dropped out of a helicopter by aliens with no supplies and have no idea what any of the plants around you are (and don’t go by what the animals are eating; their digestive systems are different than ours).

In Which I Become A Music Critic

I wouldn’t presume to review an album I hadn’t even heard yet . I’m not that ‘educated’ (or that stupid). However, I do consider myself to have a relatively wide taste in music, and having played flute, trumpet, and percussion from elementary school through college, I consider that I have had enough experience to not only know what I like, but to also have enough experience to know what sounds good and what doesn’t. Thusly, (thank you Bucky Katt ). I am going to expound upon a few things that bother me, which I think the music world should not only read, but immediately implement upon finishing the last sentence. Because I am a consumer, and what I say matters, so there.

1) Although, as a general populous Americans may seem stupid, and television shows and personal interactions may tend to confirm this, this does not mean that we also want our music to be stupid. If I can predict the end point of every single line of your song, then I don’t want to listen to it. I do not want to listen to something that I could have written, because then I would be the singer/songwriter/rockstar and you would be the environmental scientist (or working at your local fast food joint. Your pick). Most Christian worship songs are good (or bad) examples of this. Although there are some better ones out there (‘Grace like Rain’) comes to mind. But mainstream music has plenty as well, mostly in the pop genre, which I try to avoid.

2) This may be picky, but don’t make the lyrics particularly annoying. For instance, I am a fan of Feist in general. But the lyrics to “1234” bother me. Every single time. I mean, “One, two, three, four, five, six, nine, and ten/Money can't buy you back the love that you had then” What happened to seven and eight? Does she have a personal vendetta against those numbers? Or was it just that they didn’t fit in with the melody? Either way, I want to somehow squeeze them in whenever I hear that song.

3) Don’t just sing the same lyrics over and over because you ran out of things to say. Unless you are Radiohead , and it’s somehow being used to make a point. Or, in the case of Sons and Daughters (Decemberists) and it’s part of a very successful, very melodic round.

4) This may be forgiven in some instances, if you can get me to forget the lyrics in view of the music. For instance, and I have a hunch it’s the overwhelming baseline, but Finger Eleven’s Paralyzer does this. Even though they repeat the chorus over and over….

5) Call me picky, but not only do I want interesting lyrics, I also want interesting music. If the music is only playing the same melody line as that sung by the lyricist, then I am b-o-r-e-d. Put in a syncopation, a rhythm section, something. For instance, in 15-Step (Radiohead, In Rainbows), the song key signature is 5 (1-2-3-4-5), not the typical 4-time (1-2-3-4) of almost every other rock/pop song played today. Count it, conduct it (if you truly are a nerd, like me), it is. Amaze your friends (or not, if you don’t want them to call you a nerd. Unless they, too, were in marching band. In which case, they may be impressed).

So, I’m done ranting and raving now. Time for all you people in the music industry to go out there and change things. Simon says.

I am Wonderwoman!

Okay, maybe not. But I do have superpowers. I knew from a young age that I had the ability to talk to animals, which was later confirmed in an on-line test. A quick google or yahoo search of on-line test + superpower will lead to lots and lots of free tests that will show you your secret (waiting to be unleashed) superpower right now. Of course, they may also want some personal information, so they can email you forever and ever about any other tests that you didn't know you needed to take right this instant!

Since becoming a mom, I have discovered other superpowers that I didn't know that I had. Like my superfast reflexes for catching things (food, toys, drinks that are ready to spill, open bottles of paint) before they fall off the table, the ability to forsee an accident before it happens, etc. Even more recently, now that my child is into craft-type things, I can no longer fool her with watercolors (who introduced her to 'real' paint?). So it happens that I have discovered I have the amazing power to remove BLACK paint from a LIGHT BROWN carpet. Even after it has dried. I am that good.

However, I do not have the power to transcend the parent-child time continuum of unquantifiable confusion, in that I have yet to be able to explain the term 'mad skillz' to my daughter. She wants to know 1)What they are, exactly; and 2)Where I keep them. If this is your secret superpower, please, come to my rescue!

Happy Birthday Chickie!

Today is Chickie's 4th birthday, so I thought I would put down a few things that she's been doing lately:

1) Two weeks ago I made her a paper crown, which we decorated together. She put the crown on and declared herself "King" and Toby (the male Corgi) her "princess."
2) I bought her some animal crackers last week. She eats them, but only after prancing them down the hallway, making whatever respective animal noise is appropriate.
3) Last week, we had the following conversation (gotta love the logic):
Chickie: Mommy, do cows eat yogurt?
Me: I don't know, I've never tried to feed yogurt to a cow.
Chickie: I think they do. And blueberries. Also, they eat blueberry yogurt.