The worse thing about seeing your mother willfully give up her battle with Multiple Sclerosis is realizing she never really put up a fight. 

travors:

I gazed at her for a second and licked my lips. “Remove my sleeve and pierce my film” she said. I stabbed her several times with my shiny metal fork and popped her in the microwave for 3 minutes on high. She came out steamy.

MY FIRST PUBLICATION MY FIRST PUBLICATION MY FIRST PUBLICATION MY FIRST PUBLICATION! 

They say coffee provides the perfect incentive for social get-togetherness; the drink that harnesses both creativity and comfort, mental acuity and ease, all while in the presence of other coffee connoisseurs. Enjoyed in coffee shops, diners, campus centers, living-rooms and brightly-lit kitchens.

And me? No, I enjoy my coffee in solitude.

There, I said it.

Fuckin’ delicious.

I’ve noticed that part-time jobs love to unleash my latent stupidity. It’s almost as if I was meant to blossom into a robotic supercomputer, yet programed with  obsolete software from the late ’80s. The best way to mask your newfound inaneness, I’ve found, is in restructuring the framing of your questions (to your boss, customers, or veteran coworkers).

Oh hell, just proudly wave your flag of ignorance, because we all know you’re just wingin’ it.

Cooking Measurement Equivalents for the Self-Conscious Chemist 

 The scenario is poignantly familiar: you arrive back home from a 3-month sojourn to some arbitrary but highly attractive city off the coast of Argentina for a research expedition with your highly-acclaimed colleagues. The city name had an exhausting pronunciation and defied all sane tendencies of linguistics, but you were effortlessly able to spat out Bahia Something or Other, and ostentatiously remark of your talent of remembering long polymer chains.

But anyway, you’re home and your wife (or that 1,2 methyl -1,3 propanediol model you claim as your wife) wants you to show off your extensive knowledge of South American culture by cooking up an authentic Milanesa Napolitana. But what are all those peculiar measurement terms: ounce? pound? teaspoon? eyeball? You know how to synthesize a monoethylene acetal, but you can barely mix together a few ingredients to form an edible concoction. That’s pathetic. You gently remove your glasses, weep to your acrylic sculpture of Richard Feynman, and curse complex measurement designations that prevent you from receiving your fucking nourishment.

Now, don’t get upset like that time you failed to recognize the physiological implications attached to an excess absorption of ethylene glycol found in generic-brand dish detergents. That discovery would have been a major milestone in your career and would have undoubtedly justified your estrangement from fami—- maybe next time, ok?

 1 Cup:  The amount of pure gold in a gold alloy if the alloy weighs roughly 7,000 grams and has a 65% gold content (Hint: the allow has a density of 19.32 g/cm^3) OR the resultant volume of 56.8 mL of 12M HNO3 when only laughably neutralized by 179.8 mL of toilet bowl cleaner OR approximately the volume of oxygen gas collected at 750 Torr, with water vapor removed, and finally pressurized 6x at a steadily declining temperature.

 1 Heaping Tablespoon: The same numerical value of the wavelength (in nm) of some nasty ultraviolet wave with frequency of approximately 2x10^16 Hz. Feeling existential after that one? Haha, ok, it’s 15mL.

1 Ounce: Exactly 3.88x10^23 hydrogen molecules in a sample of C3H4O3 OR roughly the mass of 41 stacked lawsuit documentations for the same misdemeanor.

A Pinch: Equivalent to the amount of interest that attractive girl at the bar had for your PH.D.