Janel's Place

I was driving the big blue truck we used to own, and the brakes weren't working. I therefore hit a person in a little car but then had to go around the block before I could get the truck to stop. Then I got out and went over to a large gathering of people in a parking lot only to discover that they hadn't noticed that I hit somebody because there was a funeral procession for a policeman going on. Sure enough, the road was filled with mexican police officers wearing very sparkly black and gold clothes, jogging alongside a limo chanting "el panino, el panino." Rachel Ferguson then came and told me that I didn't have to worry about the person I hit because he was going the wrong way on a one-way street. O'Neil then gave me a wilted pink flower and asked me if I could see anything.
At that moment I teleported to the NIH where they informed me that instead of a poster session I needed to sing for everyone.

I thought I should record that for posterity. The only thing that slightly made sense was O'Neil's role as last evening I was staining my sad little blot with Ponceau stain trying to see ANYTHING resembling pink proteins and O'Neil was kindly interested in the sad scenario. The conclusion of the matter was that I ran my proteins the wrong way on my western blot and they are now floating around in the Fort Collins sewer system. I can repeat the experiment today and try and stay focused until it's over. My sense of humor is down in the barn I think, it definitely did not come to the lab. Time for some maggots to die.