#catherine scott

[chicinsilk]

Vicki Hilbert in black velvet evening pyjamas striped in jet slashed to the waist with a huge pink rose and tied satin ribbon by Catherine Scott, coiffure by Kenneth, mules by Herbert Levine, photo by Horst, Vogue, Nov. 15, 1965

❤️❤️❤️❤️

[reelsci-blog]

Where are all the women in science? How can we get rid of the male scientist stereotype?

[newsdock]

Black Widows' Bad Rap: 4 Misconceptions About the Spider

One woman's snack break turned sour this week when she reached into a bag of grapes and felt the bite of a venomous black widow spider. Believe it or not, black widow spiders don't want to live inside your bag of grapes. If you happen to find one of these critters in your grocery bag, you can bet the arachnid got there by accident, said Catherine Scott, an arachnologist at Simon Fraser University in British Columbia, Canada. http://dlvr.it/B2H0vb

[transistoradio]

Catherine Scott, The Way In (2015), colour digital photograph. Via Saatchi; see also, the artist’s website and Flickr.

[transistoradio]

Catherine Scott, Union Pacific (2014), colour digital photograph. Via Saatchi; see also, the artist’s website.

[sesiondemadrugada]

Catherine Scott.

[scriveyner]

"I don't like him," Catie announced, chewing on the end of her straw. "He bothers me. Pretentious know-it-all assholes are fucking annoying -" she tossed a glance his way and smirked and Edward bit his fork.  Alphonse, thankfully, had situated himself between them. It was probably the wisest course of action - Edward did not like being saddled with anyone else, especially - ESPECIALLY - wannabe alchemists who seemed to think that they were hot shit getting in through the State Alchemist examinations coasting on sheer luck and a falsified identification papers - but it was all Mustang's doing.  (Of course it was all Mustang's doing, Edward figured that he had gone stir-crazy being behind a desk all day and CLEARLY Edward's own reports were not respite enough from the drudgery so he had to spice things up by assigning Edward to babysitting duty.)  "- and I bet he's a closet perv," she stabbed at the table with her straw, squinting. "Guys that hot are always pervs."  "Oh no," Alphonse said. "Colonel Mustang has always treated us with the utmost civility-"  "Fuckin' prick," Edward muttered, and Alphonse clearly heard him and ignored the oath.  "I tell ya, there's got to be SOMETHING off about him. Maybe he screws choirboys or something on the side."  Edward's choked inhalation drew both Catie and Alphonse's attention. "Brother?" Alphonse asked, and Edward coughed a few times and raised his arm to forestall the wallop from his brother that was likely forthcoming.  "Something you want to share with the class?" Catie asked, as she stole a piece of bread from Edward's plate. He glowered at her and she broke it in half, offering a piece to Alphonse, who put up his hands and shook his head.  "No," Edward said dryly. "Nothing at all that I'd want to share with YOU."

[scriveyner]

o88. Three Alchemists - Friday night (513)

There were so many things to do in Central City that it was almost overwhelming. The city bustled around her day and night, never seeming to slow down or even stop to breathe. So, predictably, Catie did what she always did on a Friday night - and that was hole up in the library with three blankets, seven books and the vain hope that the librarians wouldn't remember to check the private rooms before locking up for the night.

The thing was that there WERE plenty of things to do - but she wasn't used to staying in town long enough to really do them. She had been in town for a few days and off gallivanting across the country on the quickest excuse when Murphy was her superior officer. Now she was under - not quite house arrest, but under strict orders not to leave the city unless she was on a military-sanctioned mission. She COULD sneak out, but doing so would essentially put her AWOL and put her up on every "Wanted" board from here to the border.

(On top of the fact that her mother would then proceed to find out everything she had been doing for the past two years, and if there was one conversation she NEVER wanted to have it would be 'why did you ENLIST'.)

The problem was, that because she performed a lot of 'here and gone' maneuvers, she didn't really KNOW anyone in Central. She never bothered to get to know the other people in her garrison (mostly because they were dicks and one tried to feel her up), and she didn't ... really have anyone to go hang out with. It was frustrating, depressing and really a little bit lonely. She had her books of course, but that was little comfort when on the way to the library she passed three taverns full to bursting of soldiers hooting and hollering and having a good time.

She sighed, pulled the blanket a little tighter around her as she settled on the couch and tried very intentionally to lose herself in a world of complex algorithms and archaic array design.

Perhaps the distraction worked a little too well, because when she looked up she noticed that the door to her reading room was standing open. Puzzled, she stared at the door without any comprehension or memory of it being opened by anyone - the librarians yelled when it was time for the library to close because alchemists were stubborn, narrow-minded beasts who very easily got so absorbed in their studies that anything short of a fire klaxon would not rouse their attention.

Then she noticed the antenna, at just about eye level.

Edward was sitting on the floor, his back against the couch, a book propped open on his lap and reading silently. Catie stared at him, quite a bit confused, glancing to the door and then back to the back of his blond head.

How long?

Catie smiled, and looked back down at her book. It didn't really matter though, did it? At least it wasn't another Friday night alone.