Eeeek! Real Lab Work

To be honest, this blog is starting to become like essay writing. As I notice something interesting or worth commenting on throughout the day, I'll make a mental (or even literal) note to pass such [worthwhile] thoughts on to you, the reader.

There's an interesting phenomenon that happens sort of regularly in australian summers, and I can't remember whether or not I talked about it before, but there are brush fires that envelop large parcels of land in the countryside, but move cityward. Think along the scales of the fires out by LA. These burn down houses, eat up tremendous acreage of land, and send plumes of smoke into the air, a la R. Kelly puffing a cigar in music videos. It's really bad, though, since on a day where the wind is blowing preferentially, the city will get filled with smoke, and visibility goes way down (for instance, my lab is on the top floor of our building, and normally we can easily see all the city skyscrapers, only about a km or so away, but today you couldn't even see the tops, honestly; everything is completely blurred - I really need to take a picture of this, the lack of clarity is impressive, if not slightly disturbing. Which brings me to another note: I have a penchant for landing my workspace in the top floor of science buildings, owing to my top-shelfiness. And not the obnoxious top shelf requirement of the two Jons I know: Jonty refuses to do a shot of any tequila less than the $8 (american) a pop Patron, and J.A.G. has been known to throw down $15 in a bar to quell the pinings of his capricious date for a lychee/champagne concoction. (aside: see the problems with white bread, Jon? - a little too flaky, low nutritional content, and never a surprise to see red, blue, and yellow dots on the packaging))
- You can actually smell smoke inside the buildings, in fact, the Melbourne weather center had to evacuate last week because the outdoor smoke tripped the fire alarms in the building...our own building switched to recycled air venting, because the A/C was bringing in smoke and causing complaints.

As for my lab, it's very safety oriented (or as many australians say, noticeably, "orientated"). Besides the lab coat thing, they're always double checking disposal protocols (there's a special waste container for trizol), plastic pipette tips need to go in a sharps container, and there's even a "man down" system we're required to wear if we're every working alone. Haven't read the manual on that one, I must have passed it while I was skimming through such safety recommendations as "do not run through the lab" and "do not dip your ciggies in chemotherapy cell treatments in order to acheive a buzz like Lance Armstrong."

There are subtle intracacies that make even the most high tech new research building look like it's lacking something (having seen both ours in the states and this run down research facility that (no joke) has scaffolding with boards and corrogated aluminum near the entrances to catch any of the upper bricks that may fall due to age onto any unsuspecting visitor). In the tea room here, no plastic cutlery or paper plates - real silverware and a dishwasher that is run daily (by some mysterious life force), thus renewing the clean supply of flatware. And free biscuits (tea-cookies). Words are funny here, huh? (my english co-worker, Kathryn, calls lunch "dinner" and dinner "tea", as well as sandwiches, "butties" -- no wonder they couldn't hold on to their colonies). Although Kathryn is my target for our lab secret santa service, known as Kris Kringle (just Kris Kringle, not Secret Kris Kringle). Since I don't really know anyone personally, and was bound by a 10$ Australian limit (you'll see what that can buy here -->), I stumbled into a "Dirt Cheap CD's and DVD's shop and picked up a Pink Panther DVD. Who doesn't like the hilarious bumbling Detective Clouseau? ("Catooooo?")

And finally, and I mean no disrespect to those who influenced this section, but there is a lot of B.O. around here. Craig promised adequate anti-perspirant in this country, but I've noticed a severe lack of aroma-camouflage by a small population of guys here. Perhaps you can chalk it up to pop culture's depiction of the masculine, crocodile wrestling Australian, and the requirement to ooze testosterone-riddled man musk whenever possible. Who knows. But seriously, dude with the jean shorts and long hair standing on the tram holding the overhead railing, please be more discrete. Thank you