- My spouse's magic tea (chamomile, honey, lemon, cayenne; sounds revolting; tastes revolting; works anyways) really does do something to colds. (Possibly: decongests them.) Hallelujah.
- My advisor and I have now advanced to the stage where his main response to me is 'Sounds good.' Comforting? Alarming? Yes.
- Last week in lab meeting, he suggested something, looked at my faint expression of alarm (gotta work on that poker face some more), and said 'Oh. You don't want to do that. Never mind.'
- What the hell.
- Did I mention that Dr. S wrote an RO1 for his temporary-postdoc advisor? He did. The whole. damn. thing.
- In return for I got a free five-day trip to San Diego in late March (with Dr. S), and he got a bottle of very nice Scotch.
- Which aren't anywhere near enough to make up for it. But it's a good start.
- If this guy's sterling recommendation letter doesn't get Dr. S a faculty job someday, I'll be seriously annoyed.
- Also Dr. S works in a lab entirely made up of Turkish people. They try to feed him all the time because he's so skinny.
- Winter? Please go away. Or at least stop RAINING.
- Dear labwork: Kindly stop with the incomprehensible results. Stop. It hurts.
Soon: Why Plastics Are (Sometimes) Bad, In Three Easy Lessons; and How To Send One's Spouse Off Alone To Buy a House (What Are You So Afraid Of, Dear?); and When America Meets Turkish Culture And Then It Implodes
