You stay classy, San Diego

I am coming off the longest drought in yajeev postage since the inception of this blog, and for that, I sincerely apologize. My (blog) readers are on the losing end of long workdays, long commutes, and long hours writing grant applications. I am woefully behind on blog posts and even woefullier behind on returning phone calls. I can only hope that my application readers are as kind to me as my blog readers.

Thus far, I've applied for six grants. Unfortunately, one agency has already informed me that my application was "excellent" but unfundable (the non-"outstanding" need not apply). Another told me that I was on the cusp of fundability... and asked me to politely wait two more months while they deliberated.

Today, we're ending a one-week vacation in Ron Burgundy's home town, San Diego, California. I had hoped to have enough free time to repopulate my languishing blogsite with several delightful little posts. Unfortunately, this dream did not materialize, as I received an email from one potential research funder (the one which placed me on the cusp) informing me of a last-minute telephone interview to take place this upcoming Tuesday morning. Thus, I've spent my non fun-in-sun (or, more accurately, non marching-in-sun-through-zoos-and-state-parks-and-along-beaches-or-from-airports-to-hotels-instead-of-waiting-for-complimentary-shuttles) time boning up on the details of an application I wrote several months ago.

Don't give up on me, dear readers. I keep a running list of blog post titles, waiting for the time to flesh them out... Please stay tuned.

Josh

While I was preparing to move from Pittsburgh to Hartford last summer, unbeknownst to me, one of my best friends from early childhood passed away. I learned today that Josh, the boy who introduced me to The Legend of Zelda and invited me to play at his house when other kids in my class teased me mercilessly, died following an epileptic seizure and subsequent head trauma.

The (single) highlight of my athletic career came at Josh's hands. He was one of the strongest, most respected pitchers in Little League, and I one of the weakest, least regarded hitters (with a batting average hovering at .000). In the bottom of the final inning, Josh had all but wrapped up a no-hitter, when I came to bat. I swung at and missed (by a wide margin) the first two pitches. With a count of 0-and-2, I closed my eyes as he wound up for the third pitch (since keeping them open had brought me no success following the first two). Eyelids clenched, I swung and to everyone's surprise (especially mine), I had hit a line drive to an unsuspecting outfield and made it to first base before the ball. This story has long been the feather in the cap of a completely unillustrious personal sporting history... today, it falls flat.

Although I haven't seen him for over a dozen years, it is shocking and sobering when someone so vibrant, so healthy, so decent, so friendly slips away. He was 28.

The nitty gritties

Many thanks to all who have expressed concern in the wake of my car accident. I must admit that I was puzzled by Benjamin's remark in his comment to my last post. He wrote, "I agree with most people: I'm glad you're alive!!" Most people? As if to imply that there exists a (vocal?) minority who might not be so glad...

The insurance adjuster called to inform me that my car had indeed been declared a total loss. I visited my beloved 2008 Honda Civic at the body shop last week to say my final goodbyes, retrieve some CDs, my umbrella, and a lawn ornament that had been in the car since we moved, and turn over my spare key. I've included a few pictures from our emotional final encounter.

I was surprised to find my car sitting in the parking lot with the key in the trunk. While it's not much to look at, and the front passenger tire is a little flat, the engine still runs. An industrious, opportunistic thief could have 'er up and running in no time, I'm sure.

In any event, I recovered the chocolate bar. Should tide me over while I look for another car.

Life

On my way home from work last night, I hit an icy patch of highway and my car spun out of control. Supposedly, your life flashes before your eyes just before you die. Here is what went through my mind in the five seconds of spinning, careening, and repeated guard rail slamming.

uh oh... this can't be good... wonder if i'll make it home in time for lost... i hope the unopened chocolate bar in the passenger seat survives this ordeal... i'm due for an oil change in another few hundred miles... i'm hungry... what does a yeast loving cow say? schmoo! i better not repeat that joke outside the yeast community... no one will get it... wish i had something to blog about haven't updated for a while... ouch hit a guardrail... i wonder what bark's made of... no, but i'll have a diet coke... andrew bird sure can whistle what a songbird... lips are chapped... what's for dinner?... i miss tee ball... i haven't been to a zoo lately... sorry folks park's closed moose out front shoulda told ya... would be pretty sweet if the cavs acquired shaq... 4 8 15 16 23 42... if 42's the answer, what's the question?... when you're ready let me know i'll be waiting to make arrangements for the trip... ouch guardrail again... coming to a halt... in the middle of the highway... putter to the shoulder... breathe...

Thankfully, the stretch of highway was strangely empty when this transpired such that my car and the guardrail were the only casualties of this misadventure. I was protected from serious injury, walking away with minor back pain.

In reality, it is true: my life did pass before my eyes. As I spun out of control, I saw bright white lights and my wife's beautiful face. I said to myself, "This is it," expecting all to cut to black in a flash. There was no time to be scared. It would be over soon.

A moment later, I was sitting in my car straddling two lanes with a cliched white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. I was stunned to be conscious and breathing after two dizzying twists and two loud bangs. I maneuvered the metal and fiberclass cage in which I sat to the side of the road and waited for help. Miraculously, I live to blog again.

Mooving on

Dear cows of Chick Fil A,

By now, you have no doubt noticed that I have become an official Facebook fan of the quarter pounder with cheese from your beefy competitor, McDonald's. I want to assure you that, truth be told, I'd prefer a Chick Fil A #1 value meal any day of the week (except Sunday) over the competition's burgers. It's just that you are nowhere to be found in all of New England. There are rumors that you are in one location near Boston and that you have a presence at a single amusement park in the Northeast, but there is no Chick Fil A haven within a realistic driving radius of Hartford.

It doesn't have to end this way, but you will need to make an extra effort. I will be more than glad to meet you half-way. Heaven knows I've spent many sleepless nights on behalf of our relationship. Were you to open a store within 40 miles of Hartford, I would happily make the trek (not every day--perhaps twice or thrice per week). The wife and I already make such a commute for each of our current jobs. We'd certainly drive as far for waffle fries and the best milkshakes in the biz.

Happy belated Valentine's Day, Chick Fil A. My heart will always be yours, but, for now, my stomach belongs to McDonald's. The nugget is in your court.

Love,
Yajeev

Pork barell

For lab meeting snacks this morning, one labmate provided bagels and bacon cream cheese. Since then, I have been unable to get bacon out of my head. No matter which way I turn, bacon beckons me. Even as I have attempted to conduct my daily lab business, bacon confronts me on all fronts.

Check out a few of the links below to see how my day has proceeded in HD bacovision.

www.pubmed.com

http://landofyajeev.blogspot.com

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vegetarianism

www.sciencedaily.com

www.cnn.com

(thanks a lot to blitz and rt for filling my stomach and mind, respetively, with bacony goodness)

A picture is worth XLIII words

courtesy of ESPN.com

Super Snub

Somehow, I was not included in Sports Illustrated's recent online feature profiling celebrities and their Super Bowl picks. Which may, in the long run, be for the best... I don't want to be the jinx that costs my team the Lombardi Trophy.

So, rather than make an official Super Bowl prediction, I will merely report to my readers that I endorse the rational judgment of President Barack Obama, Howard Stern, Artie Lange, John Legend, Crystie Stewart, Patrick Dempsey, Julie Henderson, Tito Ortiz, Jessica White, Judah Frielander, Keith Olbermann, Wolf Blitzer, Misty May-Treanor, Kerri Walsh, Clyde Drexler, Tommy Davidson, Mike Alstott, Marcellus Wiley, Bobby Labonte, Jim Florentine, Abby Brammell, Chris Johnson, Matt Ryan, Matt Forte, Steve Slaton, Myron Rolle, and Deron Williams. That's 28 out of 40 celebrities. Would have been 29 out of 41 had my vote been recorded.

Perhaps next year the Super Bullies at SI.com will recognize the broad reach of the Land of Yajeev and consider my opinion in their VIP Big Game forecasts.

PS: Yes we can!

Make that the second most trusted name in lab banking...

I proudly announced in my previous post that I had apparently surpassed a particular threshold of trustworthiness at my new job and had been named official lab banker.

It must have been all of the sweet science bling that coincidentally appeared on my bench that raised suspicions, because my title was soon after adjusted to official lab co-banker. Moreover, I have been relegated to the much less glamorous aspect of financial management: bookeeeping. The other co-banker is in charge of actually managing our collective assets.


...now how am I ever going to pay for this gold-plated pipette?

Yajeev: The Most Trusted Name in Lab Banking

I must be doing something right in my new(ish) job, because yesterday I was named unofficial laboratory banker. I will be the guardian of lab recreational funds.  As of today, we are about 50 dollars in the red. If projections hold (and lab members remember to bring their money to contribute to the fund), we will have a 20-dollar surplus by this time tomorrow. If not, I may soon be in line for a bailout.

I pledge to maintain utmost integrity and complete transparency as I faithfully execute the office of banker and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, defend the financial status of this laboratory.

(... please disregard my fancy new lab coat... coincidental timing, I assure you...)