Netflix and why scientific advancement is set back 50 years

If there is a 2016 New Year's resolution to make, it will be to watch Netflix in moderation. I tend to binge watch. Such was the case with many of these TV series. The Office and Friends are classics and can be played at anytime of the day as background noise. But for the rest, I don't have a reasonable excuse for all the hours I logged watching it.

List of Netflix series:

Drop Dead Diva
Persons of Interest
NCIS (original)
Parks and Recreation
The Office
Friends
Call the Midwives
Jane the Virgin
The Bletchley Circle
The Paradise
An Idiot Abroad

Sadly, this list comes too quickly to mind. There were a few weeks when I only watched TED talks. If there is anything to motivate you to do better, it was listening to well spoken individuals talk about their life's work. 

Then of course, I finished that up and returned to a variety of TV shows. I loved Orphan Black, which was available through Amazon Prime. I was told to watch Curb Your Enthusiasm, The Moaning of Life, House of Cards, and rewatch Seinfeld. That will be on my to do list for next year. 

Songs of God and Whiskey

 

I love this album by The Airborne Toxic Event. I thought it was lyrically clever, the tunes were simple and raw. My little nephews danced with me as it played in the background this past week. I'll just say it here--album of the year. (At least in my book.) The videos below are two songs from the album.

Words as a remedy (Syrian Refugees- Part 2)

I began writing this post November 22, 2015. I did not complete it because the rhetoric coming from right-wing politicians filtered into distasteful dialogue between individuals I routinely encountered. I was surprised by their expression of fear. Rather than think ill of those who were fleeing from terrorism, I wanted to give succor. Yet, I did not know how. The simplest way was to add my voice. I became quite busy and the desire to write the post petered out.  I will finish it off now...


Everyone seems to have a resolute opinion on the political topic of Syrian refugees. Rather than liking as many posts as I am able to on social media in favor of welcoming the refugees, I thought it more prudent to write about it. 

My last blog post was a means to cope with a heavy heart due to the Paris and Beirut tragedies. Less than a week passed before Dumbledore's wisdom proved to reveal a sharp divide in the American public. This six-minute clip from Colbert's The Late Show highlights the absurd fear that has gripped American politicians. Today, NPR wrote, "the emotional debate about whether or not to shut Syrian refugees out altogether gained new traction in presidential politics." I am truly bewildered. Utterly confused. 

Why?

I am confused because historically, America was a refuge for those who fled England. It continued to be a refuge for those fleeing Europe. Inscribed on the Statue of Lady Liberty's pedestal is the poem "The New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus. 

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles.
From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!"” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

How can we, as Americans, be so intolerant? Are we not hypocrites? I am not alone in my confusion or anger. Game of Thrones author, George R.R. Martin referenced the poem in a recent blog post. He will likely be trolled for expressing such views, but I am glad he did because it is currently a minority opinion. 

Syrian Refugees- Part 1

I loved the shift of focus to Syrian refugees. The post below was published on September 27, 2015, which preceded the December photo shoots of Syrian refugees. 

“After one month, I arrived in Austria. The first day I was there, I walked into a bakery and met a man named Fritz Hummel. He told me that forty years ago he had visited Syria and he’d been treated well. So he gave me clothes, food, everything. He became like a father to me. He took me to the Rotary Club and introduced me to the entire group. He told them my story and asked: ‘How can we help him?’ I found a church, and they gave me a place to live. Right away I committed myself to learning the language. I practiced German for 17 hours a day. I read children’s stories all day long. I watched television. I tried to meet as many Austrians as possible. After seven months, it was time to meet with a judge to determine my status. I could speak so well at this point, that I asked the judge if we could conduct the interview in German. He couldn’t believe it. He was so impressed that I’d already learned German, that he interviewed me for only ten minutes. Then he pointed at my Syrian ID card and said: ‘Muhammad, you will never need this again. You are now an Austrian!’” (Kos, Greece)

(6/6)

This man embodies the essence and definition of true grit. I am grateful for his story because it makes me want to do better. Better at what? Better at living and learning! I am grateful for the compassion of others and hope to be just as hospitable as Fritz Hummel and friends. 

Save the Rhinos

I remember this post from Saturday, October 31, 2015. It struck a funny chord in me and I laughed at my desk. My FB had become inundated with stories about saving earth's animals. The rhinoceros, the unsung real unicorn of earth, was not part of any person's campaign. Hence, upset kids forced to wear a funny costume and overly enthused parents trying to curtail crying kids. Ah, it was too much. Great wit on the part of the parents! 

“You should have been here a few minutes ago. The kids were crying from the cold. It would have been a perfect Save The Rhinos advertisement.” 

I want to be his friend

My sister and I love the Disney movie Tangled. It sends a great message to pursue your dreams. Ha. The HONY post on Wednesday, September 23, 2015, was in my humble opinion, the best story to illustrate 'living your dreams'. I cannot pick which is my favorite part to this entire story.

“I was a maître d’ at a restaurant for thirteen years. But one week I got a really bad case of pneumonia that put me in the hospital. While I was lying in that hospital bed, I was thinking about how I really didn’t want to go back to work. Then that motivational speaker came on TV. You know– the one that has all those teeth in his mouth. And he said: ‘Think back to what made you happy when you were young! That’s what you should be doing!’ Well I grew up in the country, and I always had a lot of dogs, so I thought that nothing would make me happier than to be a dog walker. But I knew I needed to distinguish myself. So I decided to make a uniform. I smoked a joint and came up with this outfit. I wanted people to look at me and think: ‘If this man is walking our dog, and there’s some sort of major disaster, he’s going to survive. He’s going to fish for those dogs. He’s going to build a bunker and shelter those dogs until it’s safe to bring them home.’ After I finished the design, I got four of my friends to wear the uniform, and we borrowed all the neighbors’ dogs, and we walked them down 5th avenue while handing out business cards. I got five customers that first day.” 

I'm a sucker for love stories

Love stories are thoroughly entertaining. Though I am quite impartial to Zuko and Mai as the greatest love story ever told*, I must concede that this story was ridiculously adorable. I couldn't stop laughing, especially since I have been one of those friends who takes the picture to commemorate such a meeting. 

“I first met her in church last October. I wanted to talk to her for months but I was too nervous. I’d never gone on a date or had a girlfriend before. All my friends kept helping me think of strategies to ask her out. But I kept saying that I’d do it later. I kept saying that I was too busy with college applications to have a girlfriend. But really I was just too scared. After my applications were finished, I ran out of excuses. So I asked her to sit next to me in church. When the service was over, I walked her to the door and asked her out. My friends were all watching and they snapped this picture. I was crossing my arms because I was so nervous. I’d never had a conversation with a girl for that long.” 

*I love the animated series, Avatar: The Last Airbender. Whoever reads this post and does not know of this American treasure, I command you to go watch it. And for the love of Appa, do NOT watch the live action movie released a few years ago. 

Iran Series- HONY

I remember this photo as though it were yesterday (August 26, 2015).  I don't think I could fully articulate the poignant feelings he shared at the time. Now, I think what resonated with me  was the pinpoint of time when he felt his father's love. My parents and siblings, aunties and uncles tell stories very much like what he shared. Pivotal moments that might seem like nothing to anyone else, but were of significant changes in how you saw the world. Powerful storyteller. 

“My mother died when I was two years old, so it’s just me and my father. He’s been really angry with me lately. He’s always wanted me to be an engineer like him, but I switched my major to photography. He didn’t’ show any emotion when I told him. He always has a poker face. But I know that he’s angry from the little things. He never asks me to go shopping with him anymore. We used to go to the market together. He’d pick up a watermelon, inspect it, then would hand it to me for my opinion. It doesn’t sound like much but I really valued that time together. But once I changed my major, he stopped asking me to come along. But I think things are getting better. Recently I scored in the top 5th percentile on the University Entrance Exam for photography. When I told my father, he didn’t show any emotion. But the next day he asked me if I wanted to go shopping. And that made me so happy. Because it’s just the two of us. And I really, really, really, really love him.” 

(Tehran, Iran) 

Squirrels

As I was looking through HONY photos, I recalled one particular post that I shared on my FB long ago. I entered in my search bar "Xazmin squirrel" and I found these treasures...

More than two people posted on my FB page THIS YEAR regarding a story of squirrels or A squirrel (a ninja one at the City of Hope parking lot). It makes me shudder to think of it. 

My red Jello brain! It was beautiful. 

"Discovering bugs"

There are some days that I am frustrated with an experiment. There are certainly days in which I do not want to be a scientist. But, for whatever reasons, the universe will conspire together and, like this first day of May 2015,  I see a picture with the simplest caption to describe that beautiful smile. This is one reason why I love HONY. It reminds me of my childlike wonders and desires. 

“I want to be a scientist.”
“What’s the best part about being a scientist?”
“Discovering bugs.”

Workings hands = happy Xaz

I have stated before that I am no artist. It may appear that I have my head in the clouds with the Harry Potter and Game of Thrones posts that I write. It's public knowledge that I enjoy math and reading. However, I am a Lowman. I am a scrappy Navajo girl not averse to work. I learned how to crochet by my Grandma Helen and I witnessed my Grandma Yellowhorse weave beautiful Navajo rugs. I learned how to play the piano as a child. I used my hands to dribble a basketball as if I were Steve Nash. I helped my dad chop wood for older Navajo women on the reservation. Whenever I returned to my parents home throughout college and graduate school, I would help my dad build something. I loved tinkering with my car. I love this photo because I share this man's sentiment. I love being a scientist. I am happiest when I can look back on the day and see the evidence of the experiments that I performed. 

“I love working with my hands. You can actually feel the job being done. And at the end of the day, you can look at what you’ve accomplished. I can walk over this plaza in 30 years and know that I laid these stones.” 

Empathetic tears- HONY March 2015

This particular post made me shed a few tears for the man's grief. I recalled the madness that went through my mind when my sister gave birth to her first son. He took so long to come. My thoughts and prayers were for my sister and her little boy. I was in Minnesota at the time while the rest of my family remained in Arizona. My sister delivered a fine boy and she recovered from the intense labor. My little nephew and his brother are my favorite little boys in the universe. 

I am hopeful that this man will feel again. 

“The birth went fine. Teela was born early so they took her and put her behind glass under a blue light. For the next couple days, I went back and forth between Marwa’s room and the room where Teela was under the blue light. Eventually Marwa got better to the point where she could sit in a wheelchair, so I pushed her down the hall so she could meet our daughter. We all took a picture together. Later that afternoon we were preparing Marwa for a CT scan, and her sister was helping to take out her hair extensions. Suddenly Marwa sat up really fast, and she looked so scared, like she’d seen a ghost. She fell toward me and I took her in my arms and she started having a seizure. The doctors pulled me away and I started fighting with them, but they wheeled Marwa away to the ICU. They told me it would be fine, and I could go home, but I slept in the waiting room, and that night the doctor called my cellphone and said ‘Come now.’ When I got to the ICU, they told me, ‘We lost her for a bit, and if she comes back now, we don’t know how much of her will come back.” It didn’t feel real. It was like the movies. I was standing right over her and her heart rate monitor would go flat, and these two huge men would start hammering her in the chest, and she was so tiny, and her heart would beat for a couple more minutes and then it would go flat again. And then I heard the doctor say ‘Let’s give it one last try.’ And then I heard the doctor say ‘Time of death.’ And then he turned to me and said, ‘We’ll leave you here. Take all the time you need.’ And when they left me alone, I was like a madman. I didn’t know what to do. I started taking photos of her hands, and her feet, and I cut off bits of her hair. And when I walked out of the room I felt so empty. Like I was nothing.” 

Microfashion

These kids have more fashion sense in their choice of accessories than I have in my entire life. 

February 2, 2015

February 11, 2015

February 20, 2015

Vidal- January 2015

January 2015- I remember reading about this young man named Vidal. I was happy to read of the outpouring of monetary donations for the school that he attends. As the story evolved, my smile widened when I read of the teachers and principal who inspired the kids to simply dream. I chose this picture because it made me laugh. Of course the story would be relegated to the bottom half of the newspaper beneath the naked women. Life. 
 

I was visiting Vidal today when we remembered that he was going to be making his big newspaper debut in the Daily News. So we ran across the street to the corner store, and sure enough, there we were! Right under the naked women.

HONY

This year flew by. There are many beautiful things in the world--books, animals, creative works, music, and PEOPLE! Too often, the crazies of the world detract from the good that exists in humanity. One site that inspires the good in people, fosters a community of hope, and fights against the despair of loneliness and misfortune is Humans of New York (HONY).

It goes without saying that I love to open my FB and see a picture of lovely individuals. Sometimes the smile on their face tells the story, other times its the wisdom in the eyes. For some, it is the person standing beside the interviewee who is the source of their happiness. The stories coupled with the photos reveal the truth that we are weak, silly, hopeless creatures traversing through life. Yet, through our wit and grit, we can and are resilient to the troubles that life throws our way. Together, we are strong, kind, productive. In order to meet my quote, I will probably upload as individual posts, five of my favorite HONY stories. 

Google: humans of new york (Images)

6 down, 35 to go

Early November 2015- Shoot. I am behind in my blog writing if I want to surpass last year's posts... I can write ~20 this month and the rest next month. I'll get started on it tonight.

That night I watched five hours of Drop Dead Diva on Netflix.

Late November 2015- Woohoo. I only have thirty-something to write. I can post a couple a day and finish before Christmas. It will be a great challenge. 

December 2015- I busied myself with reading books and watching more Netflix. 

December 29th, 2015 [6 hr drive back to LA from Tucson, AZ]- I suppose I can write 15 blog posts tomorrow. 

December 30th, 2015 [while propagating tissue cell lines in the lab]- What??????? Today is the 30th! (For some reason, I thought I had four days remaining in the month.)

December 31st, 2015- I may as well try to write as many posts as I can while in the lab. 

thefunnybeaver

"Words are...our most inexhaustible source of magic."

The bright side of the planet moves toward darkness

And the cities are falling asleep, each in its hour,

And for me, now as then, it is too much.

There is too much world.

-Czeslaw Milosz, The Separate Notebooks

Such were my thoughts last night though I could not pen it. Those thoughts have lingered with me today.

My wish to write more blog posts has been stifled by events that have shaken the world. I have found comfort, not surprisingly, in the books that stock my shelves. Earlier today, I reached for an unread Newberry Medal book The One and Only Ivan. The story begins with a quote from George Eliot, “It is never too late to be what you might have been.”

A smile broke through as I contemplated the appearance of hope in that statement. I continued reading the story, yet the memory of other stories led me to take out other books from the shelf. I found the poem by Milosz (above) in the beginning of the current novel I am reading, Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel.  It struck me differently from the first time I read it. Now, the last two lines speak of the overwhelming news of tragedy that struck around the world this past week. Simply stated, “it is too much” to bear. 

As I continued to grab books from the shelf, I came across this pertinent nugget from The Open Conspiracy by H.G. Wells—

"Our battle is with cruelties and frustrations, stupid, heavy, and hateful things from which we shall escape at last, less like victors conquering a world than like sleepers awaking from a nightmare in the dawn... A time will come when men will sit with history before them or with some old newspaper before them and ask incredulously, ‘Was there ever such a world?' "

We know the answer to that incredulous question. Despite the affirmative response, the solidarity demonstrated by people around the world is encouraging. I am not bearing this sadness alone. Dumbledore said in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, “Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.” 


I purposely titled this blog post with another Dumbledore quote from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Dumbledore tells Harry, "Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it." The professor was right. Words from authors of different eras, gender, and nationalities have provided meaning to the emotions that I was at a loss to describe.

Whatever floats your boat

Massages. Pedicures. Cryotherapy. Float therapy.

What selfish creature participates in such opulent pursuits? 

The answer is... me.  

Prior to arriving in California for work in 2013, I enjoyed a selfless life. Perhaps the most selfish act I could commit (and it happened frequently) was to buy a book and read it into the wee hours of the night. Sometimes, I would snooze for a minimum of three hours before heading to the lab. Ah, those were the days when my body was young and spry. 

Well, truth be told, my body is still young and spry. But for some reason, I have become more anxious. Friends and family point to many factors--LA traffic, work, membership in too many professional groups, pollution, etc. Whatever the case, I have resorted to various forms of relaxation. This includes cryotherapy and float therapy, which you can read about elsewhere. The point of this post is to share my adventures of the experience. 

Cryotherapy

One beautifully warm California afternoon, a couple colleagues (Mike and Min) and I walked to our favorite lunch stand. We enjoyed our asada or pescado quesadillas with arroz. As we made the trek back to the lab, we started discussing Hollywood trends. The weirder the trend, the better the jokes. Mike then brought up Lebron James new routine. He had recently read that Lebron participated in cryotherapy. 

"What is that?" we asked.

"It's a form of cold therapy that uses the vapor of liquid nitrogen to reach temperatures as low as minus 260." 

"What?! I don't believe you." -me

And so the skepticism built until we returned to lab and Mike researched the topic. He sent me a link of his findings and I did my own research on the topic. It turned out Mike does not tell tall tales. He found a groupon pass to Ice lab in Costa Mesa, CA. My interest was piqued. I figured that I spent too much money on massages and this expenditure was minimal compared to those massages, so I joined the groupon deal. Three months later, I drove the 45 minutes to Costa Mesa to experience three minutes of cold bliss. 

A chill individual

So how was it? It was quick. Once you arrive, you can grab a robe, socks, crocs, and gloves from the shelf. There is a changing room (basically a curtain for privacy) near the chamber where you strip down to your birthday suit. The chamber is ready within minutes. I stepped into the chamber (which was already at the right height), took off the robe, and handed it to the young woman operating the machine. She talked with me the entire three minutes as a means of distraction from the tingly cold, which I began to feel in my legs around 2:30. Upon completion, she returned the robe and opened the door for me. I quickly changed into my street clothes and went on my merry way. 

Bottom line: I would do it again! I slept better than a baby that night and the following nights. I woke in the morning without any aches. Writing about it now and describing it then sounds incredulous, but it isn't. It worked wonderfully for me! 

Float therapy

For my birthday, my lab buddy presented me with the gift of float therapy. I had not heard of this before October 26th, 2015. I went online to check it out. It seemed harmless enough, a bit kooky, but altogether an innocuous enterprise. Unlike the cryotherapy, I was not anxious for this experience. Rather, I looked forward to floating in salt water for an hour. Unfortunately, I freaked out five minutes into it. 

I arrived to Just Float in Pasadena fifteen minutes prior to my scheduled appointment. The decor was relaxing, the people spoke with soft voices, the mood was perfect for an hour of ease. A young man welcomed me in the lounge. He asked if I had floated before. Inadvertently, I replied, "yes"  because I thought he was asking a general question. Only after I was whisked away to my pool, did I realize he was asking if I have ever floated at their locale. In which case, my answer would have been no. I walked through a maze of wide corridors to room number 8. The shower, doors, and pool were pointed out to me. The owner reiterated what to do when I was ready to begin my 60 minutes of floating. The key was to breathe. I thought myself ready, so I nodded my head and waved him away so I could begin. 

I showered in warm water and opened the vault-like door to the pool. Once I settled into the one foot deep salt water, I noticed the temperature was cooler than my shower. I positioned myself in the middle and made sure I knew where I was located. I pushed the knob closest to me and closed my eyes. This caused the lights to dim. It was timed so that five minutes later the lights and spa music would shut off. Mind you, the spa music was already muted once my ears submerged into the water. However, I did not expect the sudden silence to jolt my eyes open. I panicked when I saw nothing but darkness. In those few minutes following, I battled claustrophobia. Without the sense of sight and sound, I relied on my sense of touch to center me. I found the two knobs and mentally reviewed everything I was told. Breathe. Focus on your breathing. I began to inhale and exhale rhythmically while I imagined topics to blog about. I calmed down and wondered how much time had elapsed. It terrified me that probably only 15 minutes had passed. I quickly focused on soothing topics-- math, books, blog posts, cryotherapy-- and was soon lulled to a certain level of calm. Of course that took mental energy to maintain. But maintain I did! Once I started to get used to floating in the dark without sound, the lights dimly shone and the spa music began to echo through the room. I smiled and jumped up, ready to shower off the salt and return to a life full of sound and color. Once I stepped out of the pool and into a hot shower, I was happy! I was happy to see my colorful belongings and hear the pitter patter of hot shower water hit the floor. I relished in the sound of my footsteps when I left.

Bottom line: It takes a certain type of person to love this form of therapy. Personally, I found it claustrophobic. I was later told that I need to learn to "not think." Once I do so, I can begin to "hallucinate and really enjoy the experience."  To that, a smirking emoji can probably best express my thoughts. 


Needless to write, I prefer the cryotherapy over float therapy. But I do not want to diminish its value to others who find it relaxing. Whatever floats your boat.

:)

A storm (of words) is coming!

It's obvious that I am a procrastinator. Unfortunately, I'm also a goal setter. Hence the end-of-the-year writing pressure to surpass the 41 blog posts written in 2014. (As of today, I have an impressive three down.)

Luckily, life in the city of angels is not static. Take for today, I tried float therapy. It was by far the kookiest thing I have done in the name of therapy. I will explain that outré experience in a future post. I have also participated in cryotherapy, which was great! Again, that will probably be written as a comparison in the same post. But both are superficial events to the inner workings of my mind. I have jumped into the pages of many books over the past year. I can't wait to share my thoughts on a few of them. (Probably shared in the same vein as previous Game of Throne and Harry Potter posts! see Sept 2012, Jun and Aug 2014 for GoT and any of 2011 posts for HP, but my favorite write up is Feb 2012!) 

A few of the books that have held me spell bound on weekends.

As I am wont to do every now and then, I will let my passions get the better of me and write about Native American identity. I am truly in need of a pensieve as I tackle this topic. I want to write about my memories of growing up as a Navajo child and how that has influenced who I am now as a Navajo woman. If anything, those stories will reveal why I am such a feminist and why I love the classic Brave New World. In short, it will add another variable to the puzzle that is me. Ha. 

Lastly, I will surely write some superfluous (or highly intelligent... it could go either way) posts about my Netflix binging (The Great British Baking Show, Person of Interest, NCIS, Call the Midwife, etc) or whatever shenanigans I get myself into these next two months.

Prepare for a storm (of words)...this winter!




Hahahaha. I did not intend to word play my title with GoT. But it happened and I am the merrier for it. But now that my subconscious brought it up, I have re-read the Game of Thrones, and you can expect more writing related to the books!

Halloween Fairy

"I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers."

-L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

What a beautiful, polished sentence! Less eloquently, but just as fervently conveyed, whenever I think of October it is likely expressed as "I can't even." 

So why write a post today? Because October is the start of my new year. The weather becomes intoxicating. The colors and smells richly captivate the senses. Pumpkin cookies, cinnamon sticks, candy, Canadian Thanksgiving, Halloween...I CAN'T EVEN. There is too much to love. 

But why write today? Because the Halloween Fairy visited the Kong Lab in Duarte, CA. She spruced up the lab space with classic glitter pumpkins and a refilled pumpkin basket of candy. 

Keeping it classy.

She would have been stripped of her title if this was left empty. 

But of course she didn't stop there. This fairy obviously has a bias in favor of witches (probably influenced by her reading the Throne of Glass series...in particular with certain characters in books three and four- Heir of Fire and Queen of Shadows).

I doubt I will ever meet a nicer witch than the person who sits at this desk. Her first name starts with an X! She's so cool. 

Perfection

Since I am well acquainted with the Halloween Fairy (we share the same birthday). I can reveal that she struggled with how to bestow her charms on the Kong lab. Should the decor be scary with cobwebs, spiders, black rats, and hanging bats? Or should she be sensible and go with tacky (i.e. cheap)? The answer is evident from the pictures below. 

Ever practical, the Halloween Fairy knew the Kong lab members are not scary, but rather quite inviting individuals. 

I take it back. This is perfection. 

Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

We really need to get the windows cleaned. 

So why I am writing this post? Because I made the goal to write more entries than last year. Today marks the change to honor my goals and begin writing. 

And finally, today was too beautiful of a day to remain silent.

:)

#distractinglysexy

“Let me tell you about my trouble with girls…Three things happen when they are in the lab: You fall in love with them, they fall in love with you, and when you criticize them they cry.” –Tim Hunt (2001 Nobel laureate in Physiology or Medicine) , June 2015

What an idiot. 

 

The best part of this story does not come from him. Rather, they come from the voices of dissent-- the #distractinglysexy women of science. The fury, the wit, the sarcasm-- all perfect reactions to his arcane sentiment. Joined by two of my colleagues in the mouse room, we added strength to the Twitter storm with our own pictures. 

Very much like the dress codes of a trendy New York club, we COH scientists have to adhere to the "distractingly sexy" attire requirements of the animal facility... or else... we get bounced.

 

Keep in mind this is only to enter the building. In order to visit the animals, we have to step it up a notch five freakier notches by donning classy booties, a see-through baby blue gown, a hair cover, face mask, and gloves.  

An ideal level of perfection

So far you probably want me to tone down the sexiness. I cannot. It's the reality of our job as cancer researchers. So without further ado, I present the #distractinglysexy images of Dr.'s Hernandez-Davies, Min Pan, and Lowman.  

Dr. Hernandez-Davies and Dr. Min Pan dressed to the nines to check on the mice. 

Unknowingly channeling the distractingly good-looking Jude Law and Jason Statham in Spy. However, these doctors "guns" are hidden beneath layers of sophistication.

"Pose sexy" was the directive from Dr. Hernandez-Davies. A bemused Dr. Lowman asked, "How do I do that?" This led to Dr. H-D suggesting a variety of poses that ranged from kicking one foot back (see next image), bending one knee (above), and doing something with one arm that was suspiciously reminiscent of a fishy dance move of the eighties.

Obviously, a swooning Dr. Hernandez-Davies, returning a cage.

  
And for the astute readers who may point out that the location (mouse room) is the cause of the distractingly sexy pictures, allow me the pleasure to point out that the appeal cannot be turned off. In early 2014, a forest fire near campus caused the scientists in the building to choose an earlier expiration date on life by NOT wearing a mask or choose the #distractinglysexy option that supposedly would prevent an uptake of pollutants in the air. 

Dr. Hernandez-Davies was appropriately referred to as Bane and Dr. Lowman inappropriately called a ninja turtle.

I want to end this post on a serious note. The sentiment expressed by Hunt is frustrating, his logic ridiculous, and his words infuriating. While working in the tissue culture room, Dr. Min Pan brought up the glaring point, "I don't understand why he [Hunt] is blaming women for being too distracting. Why can't men just control themselves?"
 

To which the token male of the lab quipped (and I give my assent), "Men are dogs."