Rupert lies in wait for Trick or Treaters

Spooky decor has arrived at the Jones residence.

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It’s bananas I tell you, simply bananas

In chem lab today we made isopentyl acetate.  You might be familiar with it as au d’banana.   Chem prof was very pleased to constantly say how this is one of the better smelling labs.  However, by the time you’ve refluxed isopentyl acetate, separated it 3 times, dried it, distilled it, weighed it, and performed IR spectroscopy and NMR spectroscopy on it, you get a little sick of it.

It’s kinda oily, and after the first two hours it felt like the oil had coated my nasal passages and my throat.  By the end of the nearly 4 hour lab, everyone was probably a little sick of the refrain I kept singing:

I’m Chiquita banana and I’ve come to say –
Bananas have to ripen in a certain way –
When they are fleck’d with brown and have a golden hue –
Bananas taste the best and are best for you!

And I decided I had definitely smelled enough bananas that I don’t figure I’ll have a taste for anything banana scented for quite some time.  Good thing I’m not a monkey.

Four banana, three banana, two bananas, one.
All bananas playing in the bright warm sun,
Flipping like a pancake, popping like a cork,
Fleagle, Bingo, Drooper and, Snork!
Making up a mess of fun,
Making up a mess of fun
Lots of fun for everyone!
Tra la la, la la la la, tra la la, la la la la
Tra la la, la la la la, tra la la, la la la la

That that’s the only verse I can remember.  They got sick of that one, too.

Thursday Quote Du Jour #11: An oldie but a favorite

This is probably my most favorite quote ever.  I’ve used it on this blog before, but when I feel down like I have lately it does bring a smile to my face.  So, I figured it was a good day to revisit it.

 

I used to think that life was unfair. Then I thought, wouldn’t it be much worse, if life were fair, and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe.

-Marcus, Babylon 5, A Late Delivery From Avalon

 

Hmn.  Off I go for another day in the rat race.

Tuesday Titters: The blind leading on the blonde

Leif told me this joke last week:

A blind man walks into a bar and says out loud, “Hey, everyone, I just heard the best blonde joke.”

Before he continues a woman sitting on the stool next to him says, “Hey buddy, as you’re new here and you’re blind, I’m gonna give you a heads up.  I’m  blonde and a weightlifting champion.  Over there playing darts is a blonde and she holds a black belt in karate.  And the bartender, well, she she’s also blond and weighs about 250 pounds.  I’ve seen her toss drunks twice your size across the room and through the door with just one arm.  So, I’m just saying, you might want to think carefully about what you say next.”

The blind man paused and then said, “Thanks for stopping me from making a really big mistake by telling that joke.  It would have been really irritating to have to explain it 3 different times.”

Bah-dum-bah.

Chicken Soup for Janie

Yesterday I made myself what I call Mediterranean Chicken Soup.  It’s one of the few ways I like a clear broth soup, and just as advertised, chicken soup made me feel better.

I love to cook.  I’ve always loved to cook.  I’m happy when I’m cooking.  And while I also love a good cookbook, I generally just use them for ideas and then branch out on my own.  In the end, most of what I cook is things I’ve created or tweaked to my personal preferences.  For example, Mediterranean Chicken Soup.  I’ve never seen an actual recipe for it, but I know how to make a good chicken stock and I likes me some Mediterranean seasonings and veg.  Ergo, my soup.  My friends have been encouraging me to write my own line of cookbooks.  Maybe I should.  I could use some “dough.”

I must be on candid camera

So I’ve been stressing out about, among many things, all the expensive maintenance work that needed to be done on the vehicles.  We’ve been putting it off because summer school canceled and therefore no financial aid was available, leaving it necessary to make do with what little I got from my $8 an hour summer job and the little bit I squirreled away from last spring’s financial aid.  So when fall financial aid came in I despondently calculated how much of it would be needed to make my share of rent, utilities, etc. until next February when I will be eligible for financial aid next.  Then we began calling around looking for the car repairs at the best possible prices and messaging the budget to try and get everything necessary done and still not have the power shut off, or run out of gas money to get to school before the next financial aid payment would come in.  Leif assured me some how we’d make the crazy lack of funding work out.

Then today I got a bill for my Organic Chemistry class.  Apparently, for some idiotic reason, that is billed separately and not included in the tuition bill that the financial aid covered before I got cut my check.  So my dodgy budget held together by unicorn farts and prayers is now totally busted.  Because in order to finish paying car repairs and pay back $880 in financial aid to cover my Organic Chemistry class there is no possible way I can make it through.  If I don’t have any more surprises and don’t spend a single penny on anything that’s not absolutely one-hundred percent necessary to survive (forget Christmas) I can probably, maybe, pay all the bills through December.  January, barring a miracle, not a chance.

So now I’m waiting for some a**hole to jump out and scream, “Janie Jones, you’re on candid camera!” and assure me this was all a joke, thanks for playing.

No one has yet to jump out.

Happy weekend.  I’ll be crying.

Thursday Quote Du Jour #10: Underachievers justifying mediocrity

So, I’ve been struggling with Physics.  Partially because the whole class is basically a nightmare of story problems, partially because I haven’t actually had Trigonometry yet, and partially because my teacher is a math and physics geek and gets his *ahem* from dragging us through these obscenely confusing lectures on how you derive a formula and the mathematical justification for everything.

Anyway, so in a panic because all I can really remember from Phys Teacher’s lectures are “Bawbaw, baaaww, bawbaw,” it’s like being in a Peanuts cartoon, I go see a physics tutor who confirms that my Phys Teacher is a masochist, and says to me when I bemoan a fate of a C at very best:

C’s get degrees, Janie.

Sad.

Sad because some people think a C is all you need to succeed.  And, sad because I’d be lucky to manage a C.

So there’s your quote for the day.