Freedom

A couple days ago I turned in my thesis, with all the signatures from my committee.

I visited my program director and gave him a copy.

I went to the Registrar and paid to have my diploma mailed.

I turned in my keys and got my deposit back. (The key lady was ecstatic that I brought back the receipts. She said I was the first person to ever do that, and it made her job easier).

I cleaned up my lab space, and threw away unneeded items. I passed things to people who could use them.

I had lunch with my old lab-mates.

I got to ring the special bell in Graduate Studies.

I went home and slept for 11 hours, because for the first time in a long time I did not have a lot of responsibilities the next day.

I am done with my Master's degree. Woohoo!

Peeing in a Cup

I am very optimistic about starting work soon.

I received a letter saying my background check is complete, and earlier this week I went in for a drug test.

I was still recovering from a cough earlier this month, but as a precaution I stopped taking my cough syrup. I also stopped taking my allergy medication because I was paranoid that I would get false positives from the drug test. (One of my friends had to repeat a urine test and was told "Next time don't take a multivitamin.")

I told my mother to stop feeding me Chinese herbal and nutritional supplements. She agreed, then changed her mind the morning of the test. "Take some of these! They're good for you. They're natural so it's okay." No thanks, Mom. I don't want to explain to my future employer I failed a drug test because I was drinking concoctions with mysterious ingredients.

The day of the drug test I waited for about 1.5 hours. Perhaps this was to ensure I could make sufficient urine for testing but I was ready to go when I arrived. This was very uncomfortable.

When my name was called I ran over and practically snatched the cup from the nurse. She indicated they only need to fill the cup up about a quarter of the way, and that was not a problem for me.

I was told not to flush the toilet until the nurse had finished her inspection. There was also no sink inside the bathroom to wash my hands. I suppose this was to prevent people who smuggle in other urine from flushing/washing evidence away.

As a germaphobe, it took much willpower not to flush the toilet or wash my hands before I gathered up my belongings and handed my cup to the nurse.

Ew.

I'm glad it's over, but it's a very small price to pay if I am employed soon!

My fiance says it makes him so "happy I get to pee in a cup."

Don't Mess With Mom

It's Mother's Day today, and I would like to give you a small glimpse of why growing up with my Mom was both terrifying and awesome.

Normal mothers kill crabs by boiling them.

My Mom would rip off the crab's leg, then use it to stab it to death. She would push the pointy tip of the leg through the wound she just created.

That's equivalent to a Wookie ripping off your arm and beating you to death with it.

Happy Mother's Day!

Meat Cake

A male friend of mine made me a pie once, which was so awful I had to blog about it.

Recently, he had a birthday party and informed me he was making a "meat cake." I was horrified when I heard this. Given his past history, I imagined a revolting concoction of ground beef, cake batter and frosting.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that he baked a rather good meat loaf in the shape of a cake, and then covered it with mashed potatoes to resemble frosting. The cake was decorated with peas and carrots.

It was rather clever and tasty, and I'm very glad that he is no longer making "magic pie."