A little bit of everything, Mutt-face

Late night dinner, therefore, late night bedtime.
As I try to reconcile sleep, I'll go ahead and run at the mouth, as I usually do. Maybe I can get tired of staring at a screen and just pass out randomly.

So, back in November my siblings and I participated in that test that became controversial... the one that tells you not only your ancestry, but also health-related shit.
I was unfortunate enough to miss the cut-off date for the health report by three days. I was offered a refund, but decided to forgo the damn thing and get my information anyway.

My brother received his report before I did... and since he's a boy, his report was exciting as hell.
I was in suspense for a good two weeks before I was able to see my information.
What happened?
I cried. Like a racist fucking idiot. I. CRIED.

In my defense, my tears were more out of anger, because no less than two days earlier, I had entered an argument with an asshole on a friend's page who claimed we Latinas should be thankful to Africa for our attractiveness because we were ALL African.
I jumped and said "FUCK YOU, BRO. Maybe Caribbean girls, but I'm straight Native American-- we're more Asian, if anything. Get the fuck out of here with your bullshit." Well, not verbatim, but to that effect. Point being, it was a heated debate where I just wanted to reach through the screen and knock this guy's teeth out.

My results?

This is where I fucking wish I still had paintshop pro... or some other editing shit.
Fucking busted-ass Mac.

"Fuck that fucking asshole... goddamn it... fuck. Goddamn it, he was right. FUCK FUCK FUCK."

And so, guys, I'm African.
(In all seriousness, what a messy little combo I turned out to be. Oceanian, guys... Oce-fucking-anian. No wonder I'm so contradictory... I'm a little bit of everything-- except South Asian)

I think I just turned Japanese

So the results are in.
According to my mitochondrial DNA... it looks like I'm:
Asian.
Southeast Asian.
...
Yep. Sounds about right.

Rafa and I joked about it before we even turned in our results. Based on what we saw on the accompanying DVD, we nailed it when they started to discuss... sheesh, I already forgot... but... it was a population in Asia. The body type was EXACTLY my mother's. Now that I look at her, the body characteristic are far more apparent (in the video, her body type was described as "a little furnace," term we now use to make fun of her. "What's up, Little Furnace?" On another note, this also helps support my claim that I was built to withstand long, cold winters. See! Seeeee! Though... I'm much longer than my mother, so... I'm a... faulty, less efficient little furnace?).
Oh my god, Mom, you're looking very Korean to me today!
(it also explains why I looked like this as a one year old:

That, ladies and gentlemen, is a Korean baby!-- and the girl holding me, has the same mtDNA as I do, actually... so... hmm)

Anyway, I ran into the results last night, when I decided to check in on the website.
I was so excited and entertained, I wound up going to bed around 2:30... that's fucking LATE for a grandma like me.
Now, the results also show that there's a significant amount of Native American, which obviously makes sense when you think of migratory patterns... so I can't say I'm all Asian.

I went ahead and played around with a website, where other people compared their mtDNA sequence, and I had 40 matches (a Korean was among the lucky 40, about 20 Spaniards, about seven Mexicans, and the rest were Cherokee Indians. How radtastic is that?!). Checking that shit out was fun... though... there's an extra transition substitution (here comes the boring shit you can skip if you hated the genetics portion of your high school/college education... which I wouldn't understand why, since that shit was always the most entertaining part of science class. Nothing like that hellish botany part. FUCK. PLANTS. Sorry for the tangent) in my sequence, which happens WAY before the first one with my matches, which is kind of... iffy... since I only found ONE person in the ENTIRE database with that particular substitution.
Does this make me retarded?... or... and ALIEN?! (that's sarcasm, calm down)
I'm blaming it on the fact that I had just eaten a Tomato and Basil Wheat Thin twenty minutes before swabbing my cheek. Fuck that weird shit.

I was eager to see Rafa's results, since I have his login information.
DUDE! Now we can make fun of Dad when he busts out his "I'M NOT MEXICAN! I'M SPANISH!" bullshit! "No, DAD, you're actually East African!"
They still hadn't posted his results last night, and when I woke up this morning, I saw this message when I tried logging in under his name:

ADDITIONAL TESTING REQUIRED

Your sample failed to yield results for the initial analysis. You do not need to take any action at this time. The lab will draw another sample from your vial and run a second test on your DNA. Please note that there will be an additional ten-day delay in delivering your results. Also, please be aware that in some cases the re-draw may be unsuccessful, in which case the lab would obtain a new sample from your second vial. Should this occur, we will post an updated message when you log in to check your status.

OF COURSE, RAFAEL D! OF COURSE!
When he did his first swab, he was so busy prancing around Mom telling her he was going to prove she was black, that he dropped his swab on the floor... the moron.
There go your hundred dollars, pendejo!
Then, on his second swab, he swabbed so hard he drew blood.
The men in my family... I swear.
So... I hope something is fucking salvageable from what remains of his samples. I can't wait to show Pops how NOT-European he really is.

Proof

The other day, Rafa and I were talking about tracing our ancestry.
It wasn't a scientific conversation at all, it was just him being a dumbfuck with his annoying questions.
Rafa: *hisnicknameforMom* Are you black?
Mom: No.
Rafa: Are you white?
Mom: No.
Rafa: What would you rather be, Muslim, or Juwsh (Mom says "jewish" this way, Rafa mocks her by imitating it)
Me: She married a Jew, so I think that answers that question.
Mom: Your dad's not Jewish!
Me: Obviously he's no longer Jewish, he's a radical Christian... but at one point, his family was.

So then we started talking about National Geographic's Genographic Project.
We each went to the page and read about it... and Rafa had an idea.
Rafa: I'm going to PROVE you're black, Lady (speaking to Mom here)
Mom: No. You're not.
Rafa: I'm going to buy TWO testing kits. I'll do the Y-DNA test, and I'll have *nicknameIhate* do the mitochondrial DNA test. SHE'LL prove YOU'RE black, lady. I'll prove you married a Jewsh. I just... KNOW IN MY HEART we're black!
(Rafa went through a phase where he swore he was related to Michael Jordan. He'd also complain "MAN! WHY WASN'T I BORN BLACK?!" This was the story with him all through middle school and first two years of high school at Clark. I know deep down, he really DOES hope we have a high percentage of African ancestry, not to spite my folks, but because he really likes black people)

Our test kits come in tomorrow.
Mom's pretty upset and paranoid now.
I haven't been able to stop laughing this entire time. I just have to see the little lady so visibly perturbed before I start cracking up for a few seconds.
Me: I'm going to prove you're ASIAN, little lady.
Mom: I. AM. MEXICAN.
Me: But it was your maternal grandma who was Native American, right? Watch... I'm going to prove your family crossed the Bering Strait. Puro indio!

Entertaining few days, I tell you.

A little bit of nothing

It's no secret I get most of my depressing songs form Native Minnow. He has an eye for songs I'd probably never find on my own.
He has a new mix posted on his blog, and once again, while I like all the songs on the list, I found one that got me immediately. The melody, the lyrics, everything:

Thanks for Nothing by Middle Brother (Just the title told me this song was going to be a winner. AND, I'm a middle child... so you know I sympathize with anything relating to middle kids)

I got off of the plane ok
Now I have a city to myself--
The strangers in the coffee shops, the sidewalks, and the way the evening smells.
But none of it distracts me in the ways that I had planned...
Or brings me back my smile like I was hoping.
Now there's a distance between me and the world that's offering its hand...
And I have you to thank for that, thanks for nothing.
(story of my motherfucking life RIGHT THERE. When I first heard this, I froze in place to listen, 'cause I could have sworn I wrote those words in my paper journal at some point)

It's probably raining off in London if it's snowing here in Nashville Tennessee.
Oh, I hope he's taking care of you, and showing you you're where you need to be.
But I don't want you to leave him once he gives himself away,
The way a match looks after it is done glowing. (This simile of the match squeezed my heart. It's fucking depressing!)
Oh, you don't know how it feels to think you'll never be the same...
And I have you to thank for that, thanks for nothing.
(the way his voice trails off at the end of this "thanks for nothin'" makes me frown and fight some tears, actually. His voice is SO SAD!)

Now the only girls I meet all look for hearts that they can fix,
But mine is more like a kid that has gone missing.
Now there's a pretty girl in front of me I know I won't let in.
And I have you to thank for that, thanks for nothing.
Oh, I have you to thank for that, thanks for nothing.

(Just imagine that "girls" is "boys" in my situation)


So yeah, I spent the day listening to the depressing mix... holding this song on repeat for a couple... dozen times.

Then I remembered I wanted to be happy... so I went ahead and began cooking for everyone.
As I pulled out some eggs, I remembered what day it is-- the first day of summer, aka Summer Solstice.
Thanks to being an obnoxious little girl who was WAY too fond of Nickelodeon, I remembered a little bit of knowledge "Stick" (DON'T act like you don't know what I'm talking about! "Write to me, Stick Stickly, P.O. Box 963, New York City, New York state, 10108") passed on to me-- today is one of two days of the year where you can make an egg sit "upright."

I killed an hour and a half fucking around with eggs. Even Mom joined me (Rafa didn't, because he couldn't do it... the impatient loser).

Started out easy... but I'm ambitious.
See all those eggs on the left? I was hellbent on getting ALL of them upright.

My masterpiece.
Science is wonderful.

And like that, my mood got chirpy again.
I love being a ten year old girl.

jokes DO come true

Yesterday had to be one of the strangest days of my life.

Supposedly, the plan was going to go like this:
Wake up, check e-mail, register for GRE, gym, shower, eat, study, sleep.

Instead, it went like this:
Woke up, checked e-mail, noticed three job offers from a science-related job-finding agency thing I had not heard from in MONTHS, got strange phone call... asking me to come in for a job interview because they're in need of a chemist, I said "Oh damn, ok... sure?", set up interview for Thursday morning, hung up, screamed, texted Chase and thanked her for the hook up, screamed some more, texted three more people for a couple of hours, gym, shower, got mail and noticed another science-related job offer, threaded eyebrows and had the hook up because I was the only person in the room who understood why the eyebrow threaders were tired, sleepy, etc... Ramadan--duh!, had a pleasant conversation about islam, ate, went shopping, geeked out a bit more over the interview, went to bed.

I find this incredibly bizarre.
Why on the day I was going to finally register for the GRE?
Umm.. God, I appreciate the interaction and everything... but why are you so confusing?!
Last year, when I was ready to take the plunge into the science field, all this drama occurred, where I was even forced to leave the country.
Instead of crying out of confusion and desperation, I took it as a sign.
Ok, I guess science isn't for me... ? Writing, here I come!!
Now, when I'm about to take the plunge into English, science comes stampeding back into my life, tossing not-so-subtle hints that maybe I should go back to looking its way.

Science is like that one fickle, possessive ex-boyfriend with whom you have an on-and-off again relationship, your highs are really high, lows are incredibly low. He hurts the shit out of you, you break up and cry a lot, but then he wants back in once he sees you're moving on quite nicely without him.
I'm that stupid, abused ex-girlfriend who thinks "He's really sorry... and he was my first love... he promised never to hurt me again" and I go back to that damn executioner.

The job is cool, though. It's a nutrition corp that is looking for a chemist. He/she will be in charge of synthesizing/formulating health supplements... i.e. protein shake powder and all that good shit. He/she even gets to invent flavors (!!! An inside joke I once had with Chase back in college involved this job. She was going to be a famous rockstar traveling the world, I was going to move to the Greater Manchester area in England and become a "flavorologist." Somehow, I'd find Cristiano Ronaldo, get married... or just fuck him... and live happily ever after. Dream big, AnoMALIE!).
Not only that, but he/she will have to interact with the buyers and the celebs who will endorse the product, "like... UFC fighters and... all sorts of athletes."
??? Jesus Christ... are you serious?
The whole time the interviewer was speaking to me, I kept thinking "How the fuck... did they contact me? I... oh my god... I'm in over my head." But I just smiled and laughed at the guy's jokes.
Put on the charm, AnoMALIE... you are so not qualified for this shit...

Would I want the job? Sure, I love lab work... it made my entire science experience bearable. If the class didn't have lab, then I surely damn near failed it.
And athletes? Duuuuude! Don't even play with me like that. I live for those bastards!
Athleticism in general has always been an interest of mine (believe it or not. "Fuck you!" if you don't).

But see... I have plans... and I'm actually moving forward with them for once.

Do I take back my ex-boyfriend/ex-husband?
Or do I stand my ground and say "FUCK YOU! I made up my mind, motherfucker! You can't have me now!"

I have to be in Chicago next month... well, I don't have to be in Chicago, but I already paid the $400 round trip plane ticket... the thought of having to give that shit up feels like someone's shoving their foot up my ass while their buddy is punching me in the gut.
I have to admit that's sort of playing a role in this.

I'm so confused... like... no, seriously, nothing has confused me this badly before.
It's a horrible dilemma!!

Why the fuck was I born a Pisces?! My interests are so diverse and random, I end up miserable not knowing which path to choose.
Artsy or analytical?
Use my head or use my heart?

It should be illegal to fuck in the month of June... why create more confused Pisces children for the world? Shit.