Bo-ring!

Mixed toluene with hydrogen peroxide.

It did not fizz. It did not bang.

Well, poo; I was looking forward for a bit of sparks *sigh*

My prof was as excited about this attempt at explosion as I was and had glitters in his teeny moleman eyes, as he babbled about what not to mix with hydrogen peroxide (which included what the germans used for their V2s) but no such luck happened as to give us the entertainment we wished to unleash upon ourselves.
Apparently, Prof has been mixing and fiddling with chemicals since he was a kid. Suppose all geeks start like that but it's only those who survive the explosions get to university to make great people of themselves. Survival of the luckiest, I guess.

Dreams...

Last night I dreamed a plot like I haven't for a very, very long time. It wasn't for something for the stuff I already have but of something new; something between Ratatouille and Keane, with an obsessed young man (who was a Jim Carry-ish Jonathan Rhys Meyers) running around between kitchens on this gigantic far-future ship (not a space ship, an ocean ship) in some sort of a semi-Mau-China regime, trying to order people around on how to cook properly and constantly getting chased around by security guards. Very strange, but very interesting.
I think my brain's trying to tell me it wants to put this lecturers' strike to more creative uses aside from the research.

And speaking of the research, I've hit another, small, step forward; I found out what was the 16-letters-named chemical that is 20-40% of the hair solvent. It's got an only slightly-saner name and it's on Sigma for a reasonable price which is lovely. Now all I need is a chemist to help me mix the damn thing together without exploding the whole faculty...he he he...in fact, it seems this sunday I'm off trying not to blow myself up with toluene and hydrogen peroxide.

Our little wonder boy, Sam, has got a mild throat infection and has been spitting contemptibly taking antibiotics now, again, after having to spit contemptibly take another antibiotics for a small stomach problem the poor bunny had when we got him. Here's the little thing ruining mom's coffee table decoration: