You Want It All But You Can't Have It

A colleague invited me to teach a class to graduate students, a couple of months ago.

Students were so tired.  
They told me that they had had classes all day long.

He wanted me to speak to them about the most studied receptors and hormones involved in food intake regulation. 

The course was about hormonal pharmacology. 

Another colleague invited me to teach a class to the same graduate students, a week ago. 

She wanted me to speak to them about the basic aspects of food intake regulation with emphasis on the hypothalamus. 

She's so smart and I got nervous. 

Nonetheless, after a few minutes I managed myself. 

We were about to leave the classroom, when a student appeared out of nowhere.

She asked me if I wouldn't give them a musical recommendation.

The first time I spoke to them had coincided with Kurt Cobain's mournful anniversary and at the end of the class it occurred to me to recommend that they listen to his music.

The student looked kind of impatient. 
It's possible that the second class would have bored her. 
Maybe it just sucked. 

She told me about Mike Patton and a band called Mr. Bungle.

I didn't know what the hell she was talking about. 

She said that he was the singer of Faith No More and that he had a band which sounded like Primus.

She said that this band would change my life. 

A just woke up from a confusing dream.

We were sitting in a coffee shop. 

She wore Jim Morrison-style leather pants along with an intense red blouse.
The blouse had a gigantic neckline.

She crossed one leg over the other and lit a cigarette. 

For some reason, I noticed her Doctor Martens boots.
They made think of a woman with which whom I had a murky romance.

(This woman wore the most exclusive and expensive models of the British company.)  

    
As she smoked, I couldn't stop seeing her cleavage. 
It was hypnotic and made me feel dizzy. 
Her breast looked so mysterious and unreachable.  
I felt guilty, morbid, weak and idiot at the same time. 

Suddenly, she said

"Don't you really know Mike Patton?"

pulling me out of my own thoughts. 
  
I felt so stupid that I just smiled at her.

Then, as I asked her for a cigarette, I looked at her face.
As she touched my hand to give me a cigarette, I felt dizzy again. 

I brought the cigarette to my lips and she lit it to me. 

Her eyes looked kind of evil and her skin was so pale. 
Her hair was dyed purple and blue. 
She seemed a vampire. 

As she lit me the cigarette, I could see a tattoo on her forearm.
It was a tattoo resembling Lilith's Star. 

What does this mean?
Should I listen Mr. Bungle?

You Want It All But You Can't Have It

El Pelo De Esa Chica No Deja Pasar La Luz

"Narcolepsy includes excessive daytime sleepiness, sleep attacks, cataplexy, hallucinations and poor sleep quality. 

It affects .03 % of worldwide population. 

Cataplexy is an episode of sudden loss of muscle tone, provoked by a strong emotion. 
Narcolepsy with cataplexy has been associated with a selective loss of orexin/hypocretin neurons.

These neurons are located in the lateral hypothalamus and were discovered in the late 90's, by two research groups, both of which were interested in peptides involved in food intake regulation. 

Due to studies carried out between the 40's and 60's, which showed aphagia in animals associated to lesions of the lateral hypothalamus, authors had been suggested that orexins/hypocretins would have an important role in appetite.

Later, following the discovery of these peptides, it became almost a standard approach to employ transgenic mice lacking orexin/hypocretin neurons.

Surprinsingly, instead of being hypophagic, these transgenic mice exhibited a sudden loss of muscle tone.

Orexin/hypocretin knock out mice are the most employed rodent model of narcolepsy with cataplexy. A couple of papers have recently demonstrated that the medial prefrontal cortex is responsible for the profound muscle weakness provoked by stimuli associated to strong emotions, such as palatable foods and wheel activity.

In summary, the proposal is that neurons from this area project to emotional brain regions and that the lack of these peptides from the lateral hypothalamus facilitates the inhibition of motoneurons in the spinal chord."  

In a few hours I'm going to speak about this topic. 

Despite it is of my favorite ones, I couldn't sleep well.

The entire night, I was sort of anxious and tired. 

I guess it was related to my academic career. 
I am on a precarious situation. 
I am able to do so many things for free.
But if I continue to do it, there will come a day in which people think that I am doing well. 

My life has been so depressing, lately.
There are no real job opportunities for me. 

I feel dizzy. 
I woke up from a confussing dream. 

Mona was walking down the street. 

I knew her a couple of years ago.

One of my colleagues asked me if I wanted to learn how to extract DNA from brain tissue and how to measure DNA methylation. 

I agreed. Then, one of his pupils took me to Mona's lab. 

No one introduced me to her.

Obviously, when she suddenly saw me there in her lab, she was so surprised.

But she did not say a word. 

Later, when I saw her on the alleys of the University, she just ignored me. 

Obviously, except if one of my colleagues was present. 

Maybe I wasn't too polite when I appeared out of nowhere in her lab.
I should have introduced myself to her, but I didn't. 
It was also wrong that neither my colleague nor his student, had introduced me to Mona. 

For days I thought I had to apologyze, but time went by and I just forgot about it.

After the September 19th earthquake' left uninhabitable the building on which both Mona's and my colleague's labs' were located, we found again on a temporal office.

The first day it happened, as I walked thru the office, I said "Hi", just for courtesy. 
She was signing up some papers that were stacked on the desk.
She raised her head and saw me, but she just ignored me. 
Her attitude pissed me off.
I was angst a few hours.

What kind of roughness had that been?
What kind of rough woman was she? 

We have been sharing this office for almost three months.

We even sit one behind the other. 

I have even taught one of her postgraduate students how to evaluate the Novel Recognition Object test in rodents. 

She's so selfish, so hypocritical.

She's just kind to people when she needs something from people. 

Wouldn't you believe me if I tell you she's Jewish? 

I had never had the opportunity to personally treat any Jew and I had never considered them as victims or as the greedy people they show us in the movies. 

She has even been rough with my wife, too.

I particularly hate when this happens. 

She's so obvious.

Most of her students are also so selfish and so hypocritical like she. 

Losers.  

Suckers. 

https://edition.cnn.com/2013/07/09/

However, in my dream Mona was walking down the street.

Apparently, she was looking for someone else. 
I didn't want to see her and I avoided her, but suddenly we stood. 

She opened her mouth and then smiled to me.
She said "Hello", exhibiting her teeth. 
They're as yellowish as those of rodents. 
Maybe she's fifteen years older than me, or so.
Even when she looks younger, I have always thought that her teeth reveal her real age. 

She was looking for me. 
She was about to hold my hand.
Her chestnut-dyed hair warmed like a strange fire in the gloom and simultaneously left some of her real gray hair exposed. 

It was cold and rainy. 

I felt inside of a World War II movie scene.
It was so intense. 
I sensed we were about to kiss... and I woke up. 

I don't really understand why I dreamed about her.

She's attractive, and I guess other colleagues have a crush on her. 
I don't like her. 
I'm sure she will ignore me again, when we stop sharing the office. 

She's a prominent researcher. 

We have a cold relationship. 

On the last week I've been dreaming about her.
I have heard that she likes opera.

When I imagine what kind of teenager she was, I do not know why but I think she liked pop music. 

I think she liked Mecano and that she used to dance in nightclubs.

Las Curvas De Esa Chica