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there was a time when i had nothing to explain
oh, this mess i have made
but then things got complicated
my innocence has all but faded
oh, this mess i have made
Ben Folds Five, "Mess"*

I suppose that there is a point in every graduate student's life when they can't take it any longer. I am not saying end it all finality, but merely quitting the program that they signed up for and as a side effect having the depression of having to rethink your entire life.

As a grad student I have spent a good amount of time being depressed. You get depressed cause during your first year of classes you have to do rotations, classes, studying to catch up with everyone else, get used to a new city, and deal with some crazy faculty members.

Word of advice for those thinking about getting a Ph.D in science: things get worse

I spent my first year totally afraid of my advisor. I originally came to the school because of one particular faculty member, and it turned out that I had major personality conflict issues with the man. I also spent the first year, after I had chosen an advisor, with a project that wasn't going to work. He tried to get me to do this ill-fated set of experiments because the outgoing graduate student had refused to do it.

Eventually, Steve Zissou (as we have taken to calling him) and I started to come to terms with each other, and all seemed peachy. Actually, I think that he just got used to having a girl in the lab that was able to get along with men on their terms.

I think that I am suffering from depression from lab work. Older students have told me that this is normal. They have told me that lab life is going to seem like one big mistake, and then in a flash of light everything you have done is going to fit together.<\p>

I don't remember why I am here. I spend all day in lab, all night thinking about lab, I spend sleep time dreaming about lab, but I don't seem to have anything to show for it. The worst part about it is that others think I have plenty.<\p>

Steve comes in on a regular basis and tells us stories about his children and how he longs to be five again. I want to be five again. I want to figure out what to do with my life. I want a second chance.<\p>

Joy has become non-existent for me. My life has become a string of failed experiments. My advisor has quit advising me. My head a jumble of facts and figures. My dreams are the things I see at the end of the microscope.<\p>

"Mess" has become my new theme song. I no longer have the eyes of an innocent child. I fear that I have become a jaded, crotchety old woman. I fear that as soon as the shit hit the fan and I started having to think for myself I made the wrong decision.

I hope I am wrong about all of this.<\small>

Why we bad just cuz we compliments yo breasteses?

My good friend Vichizzle asked me to post this to E2 for him. Oh, and please keep in mind that his opinions don't neccessarily reflect mine or the views of this station.

Ah-right, I gots to sound off on dis issue that's been botherin me fo quite some time nah. Dis society gets they panties bunched up fo lotta wack shit, like we gots to call stupidfucks "men-ally dissable" not retards an shit like that. Fur real! But anyways, Vichizz needs to get back on tracks. Ya see, there's apparently a problem with y'all hos out there not knowin how to take some compliments us bruthas be handin ya. Shit. We get bitch slapped and fuckin yelled at just cuz we complimentin yo breasteses.

What the fuck's up wit dat, I axe you?!

Why we be treated like we baddest assholes on the planet if we comes up to y'all and says "Hey, baby, you got some nice breasteses!" What's wrong wit acknowlegin the vizually appealin circumfrences of yo mamalian protuberances? The tenderness of yo titties? The roundness of yo rack? Why you all uptight bout comments like "Baby, yo gots the biggest boobies in Boston" or "Oh man, yo got the mack daddiest mammaries in Missouri," or "You gots the finest flingies in Florida," or "Baby, you gots the jamminest jigglies in Jersey!" I means, come on, we's tryin to say sumthin nice to ya. Werd. Why you not be takin these compliments wit pride? Y'all gets all melty when we tells ya yo eyes are all so beautiful and sparkly so why yo panties go ridin up when we says we appreciates the jamniferous juiciness of yo jugz?!

Come on, nah. They's juss anutha parts of yo body, juss like yo lickable legs and bubblicious backside! Why you smiles when we compliments most utha parts of yo body but get all pissed off when we paraphrase about yo pyramids?! Like just the utha day I be trottin down Martin Luther King Boulevard and I comes across this fine specimen of lady. She had one of the perkiest pair I evah saw. Ol' Vichizz say "Damn, foxy, you gots some magnificent melons there!" An you know what she do?! She fuckin bugz her eyes out and's like "Get the fuck away from me you pervert!" then she stomps on Vichizz's foot and takes off. Shit. I just don't get it. Somebody pleez explaaaaaaains it to me!

Look: dis is what you ladies should do: next time a fella comes up to ya and compliments yo cans, don't get all mad over the tribute to yo titties. Just smiles and say "Why, thank you, I'm so glad you like 'em!" and be proud that yo mama gave you those fine boobies and they's so much appreciated! Werd!

-Vichizzle McNizzle, Pimp Daddy

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