After a casual perusal of the Wikipedia article, I think I'm a supertaster. I Wikipedia-spiraled there at work (starting on Tissue Factor, which was relevant to a meeting), and was surprised at how many foods I don't like that supertasters don't like.
The list is:
Alcohol
Brussels sprouts
Cabbage
Kale
Coffee
Grapefruit juice
Green tea
Spinach
Soy products
Carbonation
I dislike most alcohol unless it's sufficiently masked with fruit or ice cream. I can't drink straight coffee either - it has to be severely moderated by milk and sugar or flavored creamer. I absolutely hate brussels sprouts, kale, grapefruit juice, green tea, and spinach. Soymilk is weird but tofu and a lot of the fake-meat products are fine. So that's most of the things on the list.
I wish I had known this when I was little and could say I wasn't picky, I was just a supertaster. But I doubt either explanation would have kept my mom from making me eat the things I didn't like. One just sounds better.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Wisdom of Our Elders
Since the most recent grandfather passed away in May (really, it's been that kind of year), I've wanted to try and make more of an effort to visity my grandmother, so this weekend I stopped out on my way to the East Bay. Grandma was making peach jam with my aunt when I arrived, so I got to take a jar home though it involved hoteling in two different refrigerators and my dad having to pick it up once from my sister's house because I forgot it.
Grandma was in a reminiscing mood so I got to hear interesting tidbits about her and Grandpa's early married life. They moved around more than I knew about, and post-WWII San Francisco had more shortages than I'd ever heard about. She described how, when my uncle was born, diapers were in short supply such that even with relatives signing up on the secret lists to get diapers months in advance she only had three dozen diapers to start out with. She also told me about searching the city for a colander and after she finally found one, one of Grandpa's friends saw her using it and insisted on knowing where she found it whereupon he leapt out of his chair and rushed off to get one for his household. "Can you imagine that?" my grandmother said. "A man knowing what a colander is?" Interesting glimpse into her life with Grandpa from that vignette.
I also almost talked her into watching "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding", which hopefully she does. That came up when she got on the subject of "Say Yes to the Dress" with the opinion that none of the women on the show should be wearing white to begin with.
That night my sister and I treated my mom to dinner at our new favorite Chinese restaurant. While it doesn't have the dry cooked string beans (double fried! Salty pork detritus to mix with the rice!) that our dearly departed China King had, their garlic string beans are very good and their fried rice also fits the bill. And the chicken is actually breast meat rather than the assorted parts even China King ran to. We tipped extra because the waiters weren't at all phased when my sister tipped her entire glass of ice water toward me across the table. I hope we're even now for the time I tipped my glass of water on her on a plane to Wisconsin but probably not since it was January and she had to get out in the freezing weather while wet.
This week I started taking iron pills for my recently-diagnosed anemia. What the doctor doesn't know because my diagnosis was virtual but I've decided for myself is that the real reason I'm anemic is I gave blood too many times this year and need to stop. But I don't eat much red meat anyway and do think the iron pills are a good idea since they're cheaper and easier than the sheer amount of beef I think would be required otherwise. And I saw my lab results--if the normal range for iron is 15-22 and I'm a 4, I'll take the iron pills. Astonishly they don't irritate my stomach too much. I had very low hopes considering multivitamins that aren't shaped like cartoon characters are unbearable. And that time I took a multivitamin and a magnesium supplement at the same time still haunts me (it was summer 2006, in Harrisonburg Virginia. It was a dark and stormy night, and I used up half a roll of toilet paper).
Grandma was in a reminiscing mood so I got to hear interesting tidbits about her and Grandpa's early married life. They moved around more than I knew about, and post-WWII San Francisco had more shortages than I'd ever heard about. She described how, when my uncle was born, diapers were in short supply such that even with relatives signing up on the secret lists to get diapers months in advance she only had three dozen diapers to start out with. She also told me about searching the city for a colander and after she finally found one, one of Grandpa's friends saw her using it and insisted on knowing where she found it whereupon he leapt out of his chair and rushed off to get one for his household. "Can you imagine that?" my grandmother said. "A man knowing what a colander is?" Interesting glimpse into her life with Grandpa from that vignette.
I also almost talked her into watching "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding", which hopefully she does. That came up when she got on the subject of "Say Yes to the Dress" with the opinion that none of the women on the show should be wearing white to begin with.
That night my sister and I treated my mom to dinner at our new favorite Chinese restaurant. While it doesn't have the dry cooked string beans (double fried! Salty pork detritus to mix with the rice!) that our dearly departed China King had, their garlic string beans are very good and their fried rice also fits the bill. And the chicken is actually breast meat rather than the assorted parts even China King ran to. We tipped extra because the waiters weren't at all phased when my sister tipped her entire glass of ice water toward me across the table. I hope we're even now for the time I tipped my glass of water on her on a plane to Wisconsin but probably not since it was January and she had to get out in the freezing weather while wet.
This week I started taking iron pills for my recently-diagnosed anemia. What the doctor doesn't know because my diagnosis was virtual but I've decided for myself is that the real reason I'm anemic is I gave blood too many times this year and need to stop. But I don't eat much red meat anyway and do think the iron pills are a good idea since they're cheaper and easier than the sheer amount of beef I think would be required otherwise. And I saw my lab results--if the normal range for iron is 15-22 and I'm a 4, I'll take the iron pills. Astonishly they don't irritate my stomach too much. I had very low hopes considering multivitamins that aren't shaped like cartoon characters are unbearable. And that time I took a multivitamin and a magnesium supplement at the same time still haunts me (it was summer 2006, in Harrisonburg Virginia. It was a dark and stormy night, and I used up half a roll of toilet paper).
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Putting It In Boxes
One of my numerous hobbies is painting little boxes. Lately I've been thinking of selling some on Etsy. Partly for a little extra money, mostly to induce my sister to start her own Etsy shop out of competitiveness because she is much craftier than I am, and could sell her jewelry for a much higher price than I could ever sell my boxes.
This box I made by painting some address labels I mis-printed at work and then sticking them on a cardboard box. I like how it looks, but it was so easy and cheap I can't imagine anyone actually paying money for it.
This was an experiment last night, where I painted a wooden picture frame white and then decoupaged
on some tissue paper.
This little box I painted a while ago, it just needs the 6-18 layers of gloss I like to coat them with. A cheery little bird. I would like it better if the background were blue rather than yellow. Now I know.
This little box had several different attempts at a design on top. First was a rubber stamp of a black and white cat in red high heels. Then was a rendering of that famous Impressionist painting of people in a park, but it was very bad, and, ultimately, upside-down. I tried sanding it off but gave up and covered it in more labels.
It's hard because I'm kind of a perfectionist and don't think anything is good enough to sell. But I probably only need to have a few saps buy stuff before I'm convinced otherwise.
This box I made by painting some address labels I mis-printed at work and then sticking them on a cardboard box. I like how it looks, but it was so easy and cheap I can't imagine anyone actually paying money for it.
This was an experiment last night, where I painted a wooden picture frame white and then decoupaged
on some tissue paper.This little box I painted a while ago, it just needs the 6-18 layers of gloss I like to coat them with. A cheery little bird. I would like it better if the background were blue rather than yellow. Now I know.
This little box had several different attempts at a design on top. First was a rubber stamp of a black and white cat in red high heels. Then was a rendering of that famous Impressionist painting of people in a park, but it was very bad, and, ultimately, upside-down. I tried sanding it off but gave up and covered it in more labels.It's hard because I'm kind of a perfectionist and don't think anything is good enough to sell. But I probably only need to have a few saps buy stuff before I'm convinced otherwise.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Another Food Ruined
Among the odd skills you gain in cell culture are being able to open jars one-handed and being able to mouth-breathe for long periods of time to avoid bad smells.
I'm prouder of the jar opening, but the mouth-breathing is possibly more useful. Today I used it because I helped clean out the cold rooms. This wasn't too bad because since they've instituted regular cold room cleanouts we don't have the months- or years-old media that has festered or fermented into syrupy morasses the likes of which normal people can't imagine. Have you ever scraped your fingernail down the crease beside your nose after a long day when your face is oily, and then looked at the gray, unctuous material that collected under your fingernail? Imagine that but by the liter. That's what cells can get like when they're really old. But today we were tossing some pretty normal, uncontaminated stuff.
I still didn't want to smell it. I mean, get real. As we were dumping gallons of the stuff I was carefully mouth-breathing. And then the cleanout leader chirps, "It smells like poppy seed bagels!"
Thanks. Thanks. There's another food I'm not going to be able to eat again.
I started working on painting little boxes again tonight. If I can get up some stock maybe I'll start an Etsy shop. It'd be nice to have a little spending money. No, writing that just feels weird. I'm so uptight about my money matters I would designate any extra income into savings. Whatever, it might still be fun to have an Etsy shop.
I'm prouder of the jar opening, but the mouth-breathing is possibly more useful. Today I used it because I helped clean out the cold rooms. This wasn't too bad because since they've instituted regular cold room cleanouts we don't have the months- or years-old media that has festered or fermented into syrupy morasses the likes of which normal people can't imagine. Have you ever scraped your fingernail down the crease beside your nose after a long day when your face is oily, and then looked at the gray, unctuous material that collected under your fingernail? Imagine that but by the liter. That's what cells can get like when they're really old. But today we were tossing some pretty normal, uncontaminated stuff.
I still didn't want to smell it. I mean, get real. As we were dumping gallons of the stuff I was carefully mouth-breathing. And then the cleanout leader chirps, "It smells like poppy seed bagels!"
Thanks. Thanks. There's another food I'm not going to be able to eat again.
I started working on painting little boxes again tonight. If I can get up some stock maybe I'll start an Etsy shop. It'd be nice to have a little spending money. No, writing that just feels weird. I'm so uptight about my money matters I would designate any extra income into savings. Whatever, it might still be fun to have an Etsy shop.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Fractions of Work
For a small portion of today, instead of doing work, I figured out how much work I do. Because I do a lot. And I wanted numbers.
Over the past two years, I was on call for our pilot plant or manufacturing 50% of the time. That meant for half of the time, anytime, I could get called about an issue I would have to deal with.
Over the past two years, I worked around 40% of the weekends, at least one day.
Added up, only 13% of my time over the past two years has been completely free - not on call, not in the office or lab. Someone else at my company who wasn't on call or working weekends would be free 37% of the time. If you only got weekends off - no vacation or holidays - you'd be free 28% of the time. And that 13% includes the entire month I took off last December, to make up for all the overtime I had worked up to that point.
Yeahhhhhhh.
Over the past two years, I was on call for our pilot plant or manufacturing 50% of the time. That meant for half of the time, anytime, I could get called about an issue I would have to deal with.
Over the past two years, I worked around 40% of the weekends, at least one day.
Added up, only 13% of my time over the past two years has been completely free - not on call, not in the office or lab. Someone else at my company who wasn't on call or working weekends would be free 37% of the time. If you only got weekends off - no vacation or holidays - you'd be free 28% of the time. And that 13% includes the entire month I took off last December, to make up for all the overtime I had worked up to that point.
Yeahhhhhhh.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Low Standards
As I contemplate my home search, I realize I have low standards.
I know this because I watch a lot of HGTV.
On HGTV, buyers walk through potential homes complaining about the size of the bedrooms, the placement of the bathrooms in relation to other rooms, whether there are double sinks, the size of the master bath, if the metal trim or light fixtures are gold instead of silver, if the stove is electric instead of gas, that the countertops aren't granite, and more.
I have preferences, too, of course. I prefer vanities over pedestal sinks (more storage). I prefer gas over electric. And who doesn't like an updated kitchen?
The thing is I can't afford that much. Well, I understand that banks will lend me more than I feel comfortable with, but that's because we disagree on what "afford" means. And since Bay Area prices are crazy ridiculous (and Peninsula prices even more crazy ridiculous than the Bay Area at large), at my price range I just don't get to be picky.
HGTV buyers care about the size of the bedrooms? I care that there are bedrooms, period.
They care about the placement of the bathrooms? I care about the existence and working state of the single bathroom. More than one bathroom? What's that?
HGTV buyers want gas stoves over electric stoves? I want there to be a stove. Or at least a hookup for a stove, either gas or electric. You'd think the existence of a stove would be a given but it isn't.
So what I'm looking for is simple. A sound foundation, a roof that will last at least a few years, two bedrooms, everything else in working order. And if it was really great, it would have a range hood and a bathroom fan. Which you would think are normal appliances but not out here.
I don't even dare aspire to a dishwasher or air conditioning.
California. It's wack.
I know this because I watch a lot of HGTV.
On HGTV, buyers walk through potential homes complaining about the size of the bedrooms, the placement of the bathrooms in relation to other rooms, whether there are double sinks, the size of the master bath, if the metal trim or light fixtures are gold instead of silver, if the stove is electric instead of gas, that the countertops aren't granite, and more.
I have preferences, too, of course. I prefer vanities over pedestal sinks (more storage). I prefer gas over electric. And who doesn't like an updated kitchen?
The thing is I can't afford that much. Well, I understand that banks will lend me more than I feel comfortable with, but that's because we disagree on what "afford" means. And since Bay Area prices are crazy ridiculous (and Peninsula prices even more crazy ridiculous than the Bay Area at large), at my price range I just don't get to be picky.
HGTV buyers care about the size of the bedrooms? I care that there are bedrooms, period.
They care about the placement of the bathrooms? I care about the existence and working state of the single bathroom. More than one bathroom? What's that?
HGTV buyers want gas stoves over electric stoves? I want there to be a stove. Or at least a hookup for a stove, either gas or electric. You'd think the existence of a stove would be a given but it isn't.
So what I'm looking for is simple. A sound foundation, a roof that will last at least a few years, two bedrooms, everything else in working order. And if it was really great, it would have a range hood and a bathroom fan. Which you would think are normal appliances but not out here.
I don't even dare aspire to a dishwasher or air conditioning.
California. It's wack.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
In the Blood
I'm gathering I shouldn't keep donating blood.
I donated blood earlier this spring right when I was starting to come down with a cold. Surprisingly, they let you donate blood when you're coming down with a cold. I mean, I told them. I guess that if you need a blood transfusion you have bigger problems.
Anyway, that cold sucked. It took me forever to get over it (a few weeks), and it was worse than the other colds I've had. At the time I thought donating blood made it worse, since I didn't have the same amount of white blood cells as before.
Then I donated blood again last Friday, and I've been tired ever since. I've been having trouble sleeping in the heat but that can't account for all of it.
See, the thing is that I only ever barely pass on iron anyway. My cholesterol (which they test when you donate) tends to look bad because I have to stuff myself with meatloaf the week beforehand in order to have enough iron. And I've never had above 12.5 g/dL hemoglobin on the times I have had enough hemoglobin to qualify. The cutoff is 12.5 exactly, too.
I've always tried to donate blood because I figured other people needed my blood. I don't have any diseases and I'm not afraid of needles, which makes me a good candidate. But with the low iron, the latex allergy (which the technicians sometimes seem to resent me telling them about), and the fact that this happened the first time I tried to donate:
I guess I need my blood too.
I donated blood earlier this spring right when I was starting to come down with a cold. Surprisingly, they let you donate blood when you're coming down with a cold. I mean, I told them. I guess that if you need a blood transfusion you have bigger problems.
Anyway, that cold sucked. It took me forever to get over it (a few weeks), and it was worse than the other colds I've had. At the time I thought donating blood made it worse, since I didn't have the same amount of white blood cells as before.
Then I donated blood again last Friday, and I've been tired ever since. I've been having trouble sleeping in the heat but that can't account for all of it.
See, the thing is that I only ever barely pass on iron anyway. My cholesterol (which they test when you donate) tends to look bad because I have to stuff myself with meatloaf the week beforehand in order to have enough iron. And I've never had above 12.5 g/dL hemoglobin on the times I have had enough hemoglobin to qualify. The cutoff is 12.5 exactly, too.
I've always tried to donate blood because I figured other people needed my blood. I don't have any diseases and I'm not afraid of needles, which makes me a good candidate. But with the low iron, the latex allergy (which the technicians sometimes seem to resent me telling them about), and the fact that this happened the first time I tried to donate:
I guess I need my blood too.
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