Beauty in the Breakdown

I had a conversation with my father the other day regarding the number of forclosures on homes where I live. Too many people felt that even though they didn't have the money for a down payment, even though their credit score was worse than the week-old yeast cultures in my lab, felt that they were owed something - a piece of the American dream, a chance at becoming a homeowner.

Too many people these days have an incredibly sick sense of entitlement. "I deserve to own a home." "I deserve to be married." But in my schaudenfreuden-rich bystander position, I've gotta say, it's rather interesting to watch all of these people who thought they deserved a house, who thought they deserved a marriage after just months of dating have a rather brutal confrontation with reality.

Just because you feel like you want it, like you need it . . . good luck holding on to it. Why are so few people I know actually making sane life choices (*Helen, you are included in the sane group*)?

Gettin' All Twitchy

This weekend, I successfully completed a request for two friends of mine - I swam a mile in the ocean. What I actually did was half-assedly train for 4-5 weeks in order to not drown during the first leg of a relay triathlon (two other grad students on my floor took the bike and run). I was pleasantly surprised to finish the swim leg in 20th place out of 40 swimmers (including the men), and beat my "goal" time for the event. I wasn't aiming for first (after not swimming an intense workout since the age of 17, my cat would sooner begin speaking in complete sentences), and I didn't want to fork over $200 for a swimming wetsuit, but I am pleased.

For those of you who aren't completely up on your exercise biology, here's some useful tidbits. As a 10 year old, I dominated in the 50 meter freestyle. It was also the only event in which I made a not-embarassing time in high school varsity. Described by Olympic broadcasters as a "frenetic splash from one wall to the other," it's the ultimate shake 'n swagger of those boasting a preponderance of short twitch muscle fibers. Muscle is made of bundles of myofibrils (composed of actin and myosin) which together form myosin. These strands of muscle proteins grab onto each other (as if they are rowing), contracting and releasing. Fast-twitch muscle fibers tend to work anaerobically, firing more rapidly for a shorter duration, while slow-twitch muscle fibers help athletes over longer distances, and use oxygen to fuel their motion.

Here's to (temporarily) conquering your genetic destiny of muscle fate and embracing something new! And above, we have unequivocal proof that I did not come in last :)

Yesterday, my friends Jen, Faith, and I threw a shower for Helen. In four weeks, she and her fiance Jon (all of us went to college together) are getting married in what will likely be the most gorgeous wedding EVER (and I'm excited because my bridesmaid dress is actually cute). I did the food with some amazing help from Jen (and also ran around playing photographer) and Faith can be thanked for the beautiful chinese paper lanterns, favors, and flowers. So what's a fabulous shower without photos?






















All photos were taken using a Canon 50mm f/1.8, the new love of my life. Thanks for letting us throw such a fun party, Helen! I was barely functional since I had 2 hours of sleep, due to an excrutiatingly early time point in lab, running to pick up cupcakes, and cooking/assembling the food, but it was all worth it - I think it was lovely!