Hollaback Girl

I have become hopelessly addicted to Bananagrams. It's actually a little sad how quickly, and how intense this addiction set in. I've played it before in person, seen the clever yellow banana-shaped bag of tiles hanging in stores and Walmarts, but it wasn't until a friend introduced me to the Facebook application version of the game did I become just so totally obsessed. The game gives you a choice of playing online with other people, or playing by yourself. I mostly played solo for a bit, since people I knew were never online, but then I realized that it doesn't really matter who you are playing against, just that you beat them. My computer is now set perpetually on mute so I don't have to deal with the stereotypically tropical and beachy music the game puts in the background, and I crave for some extra minutes of free time in my now busier days when I used to just sit here in boredom literally all afternoon. In essence, Bananagrams has taken over my life. There is just something about it, the thrill of playing against the clock, trying to form words faster than other people, the satisfaction of using a difficult letter like K, J, or X in a really awesome word, the rush to click the pile of tiles to "peel," and the overbearing need to win. Each time, it seems like I am so close, and if I just clicked a little faster, or had a real mouse instead of this dinky trackpad, I would have declared "BANANAS!" and have won the game. But someone else declares bananas, and I just HAVE to play again because I was so close to winning. On top of it, each game takes only three or four minutes, so I feel like I can afford to play again. "Just one more game, just one more game," I keep telling myself. And before you know it, two hours have passed by while I was frantically hunched over the computer. Bananagrams, what have you done?

Hide and Seek

Today has pretty much been full of nothingness. For the past week, I have been volunteering at a biology lab where my dad works. Should be interesting, but everyone just got back from vacation, or not yet back, so the amount of work to do in the lab is minimal. Especially since the majority of work in a biology lab is prep work. Yesterday was more interesting; I designed primers and circled viable cells in a 96 well plate. Today, there's literally nothing for me to do and the only thing on the agenda is to go see the mouse room. Since lunch, I've been clacking back and forth between my dad's old office and the lab to check and see if there is anyone in lab, but the door has been locked. The other two physicists with offices in the same complex here just kind of stare and me and wonder what the hell I'm doing or who I am, while the nosy secretaries give me dirty looks as my boots (with a minimal heel) create a racket down the hall. My dad says I could join a tap dance with these shoes. Sigh.

My break has amounted to a lot of nothingness, I feel. I've spent time with friends, traveled to different states and almost beat Guitar Hero World Tour, but the majority of my days have been filled with nonsense. This morning I spent two hours playing Bananagrams while exploring the dubstep world. Fascinating. I'm looking back on my optimistic set of goals for this break with a kind of distain and helplessness. I should be doing work, but I don't really want to. Home just isn't a conducive work environment. At this point, I'm almost looking forward to going back to school.

It's the new year, and I suppose I should make a few resolutions, though I never really see the point since anyone rarely follows or fulfills their over reaching, overarching goals. The solution: create smaller, funner resolutions. Here are a couple:
I vow, or will at least try my best, to complete at least one lab report a week 24 hours before it's due.
I vow, or will at least try my best, to catch up with Mad Men before the 5th season starts in August.
I vow, or will at least try my best, to make new friends, and keep old friends.
I vow, or will at least try my best, to become a wizard.