DRUNK BLOGGING!!!!

After this much alcohol, I surf YouTube and gasp!!! when I see Nedjelijom u jva 2008: Mira Furlan 2/7 and then watch the whole thing, even though I don't understand a single fucking thing they're saying. And Ben shouts from the kitchen, "NO Drunk Blogging!!!" Ha, ha, too late. Merry Christmas!

The internet brings me such joy

Glad

I'm not the only one

Just found a note

tucked inside a library book--"HELP ME!", scrawled in red pencil.

Made my day.

STRESS!!!

The insect collection is in, the lab final was aced, now just two final exams to go and an insectary to run almost single-handedly while my boss is away on a two week vacation in Asia. Along with the awesome BEES! video that Brad cheered me up with, this is also amusing me these days.

Tick collecting!

I spent this Thursday in Coshocton county with my advisor and another doctor of the microbiology persuasion. We were there hunting evil deer ticks potentially carrying Borrelia burgdorferi, the bacteria that causes Lyme disease. Historically deer ticks and Lyme disease haven't been an issue in Ohio. For some reason (still unknown) the ticks haven't established a population here, even though they're in states surrounding us.


This is what a tick looks like when you've gotten your camera too close and it starts to climb onto your lens. The thought process goes like this:
"That's weird. How is she standing on her hind legs like that, it's almost as if . . . Oh, shit!" I managed to lure her out from the inside of my camera and pop her into a tube. I don't know what I was more worried about--a tick gumming up the innards of my camera, or interfering with a scientific study by losing a specimen.

























We first went flagging (basically dragging canvas around) on a property owned by an Amish family. The mother was infected with Lyme disease a few years ago but was successfully treated with antibiotics. Unfortunately, we found about 50 deer ticks in just over an hour and a half. This sucks since they have two adorable little kids who like to play outside. William is about 4 and Mary is 5. Just imagine kids that look like this:



. . . but add neon colored nerf dart guns.
It was awesome. William tucked his into the back of his overalls and strutted around the house like he was the most bad-ass Amish thug eva'.

Obviously I don't know much about the Amish because this nerf thing really took me by surprise. I was a little disappointed. I thought it would be like stepping back into the 1800s, but the house wasn't any different than what we would have--well, I guess there weren't any electric lights, but there was a fridge, and a bathroom that I very much appreciated after a two hour drive following 3 cups of coffee.
But we happened to be crossing the street near the Amish school when it let out for the day and that did not disappoint--all the kids waving at the orange-clad oddballs (us) while riding in their mini-buggies and on their ponies.

We then headed out to check another property but came up empty. In the end, we checked two properties, 7 dogs (of varying degrees of smelliness), 1 deer checking station, and 1 deer that had been hit by a car.








































That would be my advisor, Dr. Needham, in the tasteful orange vest. We wore a lot of orange that day on account of our desire to not be shot. Apparently deer hunting season can be a challenge for entomologists.















A lot of orange.

























9 puppies shaped like sausages!









































































Nerds.

Just got a personal e-mail

from my professor saying 'Good job on the exam!'

Creepy or congratulatory? The jury is out.

In other news--got a B on my Pre-Calculus exam and I'm pretty sure I won't get an A in the class, SOOOOO, who wants to come to my End of the 4.0 Party? There will be booze and strippers. Okay, just booze, but that should be enough, right?

Recent Evie-ry

Evie: "Read this. Say this country."

Me: "Hungary."

Evie: "Ha, ha, ha! I know! Hungary! That's so funny!"

Ah, a third grader's knee-slapper.

The Insectary details no one's asking for

Day One:
1. Moved newly hatched stick insects into containers with the larger ones. Gave them a refreshing spritz with distilled water.
Newbie Death Toll:
One small to medium sized guy that I accidentally squished with the nymph container (fortunately a local species). Kept this to myself.

2. Trimmed wicks and cleaned outside of water containers for large Milkweed Bugs. (A lot of the insects get their water from the tips of cotton wicks that hang out of the side of lidded water containers.) Fed them milkweed seeds.
Newbie Death Toll:
4 or 5 guys who were stuck to the bottom of the first water container and were accidentally drowned and scalded with hot water. Kept this to myself, quickly flushed them down the drain to avoid discovery. Thoroughly checked bottoms of containers from then on.


3. Crushed the heads of 100 mealworms (so they wouldn't crawl away) and fed them to Assassin bugs using veeeery long forceps. Successfully trimmed the wicks, refilled and replaced Assassin bug water container without being bitten.
Newbie Death Toll:
Nobody but the mealworms

4. Removed all flour beetles from 16 jars and identified/threw away the dead ones. (More time consuming than you would imagine since these guys are excellent at playing dead.) Sorted through 20 petry dishes, removed dead beetles and replaced with live, removed old food and replaced with new, cleaned eggs off glass egglayey things and brushed all the eggs into a new jar.

5. Listened to stories and learned that Carpenter Bee females can sting through gloves, paper wasps can't sting through even latex gloves.

Day 2:
1. Went to the RPAC and took part in the Heath and Wellness Fair. Stood at a table and educated people about ticks and bed bugs. Grossed a lot of people out, but brought the gift of knowledge to many. I was there with George, head of the insectary, and my advisor, Dr. Needham, as well as a container full of bed bugs--it was taped shut.















2. Did all that stick insect business again. No deaths today. I have decided I don't like the Australian stick insect nymphs--they're fast, they hang onto the forceps, and they look threatening.



















3. Mixed up food for the mealworms--baby cereal, honey and glycerin. My hands now feel very smooth.

4. Listened to stories and learned that
a) if you're stung on the head by a scorpion, your face will go numb
b) if you have an Egyptian Cobra and it gets loose in your house, your wife will leave you

I was just notified by e-mail

that YouTube had identified my video "Evie's Performance" as containing music owned by Sony Music Entertainment. I had forgotten I even had such a video and went to check out what it was. I'm sure once you view it, you too will realize what a horrific encroachment I have made into Sony Music profits. I think they've graciously chosen not to censor my video, choosing instead to identify the music and its ownership. Now you know where to buy it. I just hope they don't sue her school.

I knew this kid in Oxford

Selfish Humankind


Okay, you should also watch this one.
R.E.? No, Numeracy.

Yesterday when heading to church

we were sitting at a light minding our own business. The light turned green, we started moving, and then a pedestrian came running across the street right in front of our car. I swore (in a way that was especially appropriate for someone on their way to church), Ben hit the breaks, and all was well. Then a block later the guilt set in and I explained to the girls, "I wasn't really swearing back there--I honestly thought that guy was Jesus." And Evie in an incredulous voice said, "He doesn't even look like that in books."

The grossest way to announce your wife is pregnant

"There's a little Monkey in her belly and I put it there."

I'm still in shock I used to hang out with this person.

Have a few drinks and then watch this

you won't be disappointed



I think it's better without sound as it seems that this family (though immensely supportive and encouraging) has attended too many rodeos over the years. There may also be some sort of rooster in the background.

Lonely

I'm so glad we have Stella back--otherwise the quiet may have driven me insane. (Oh, by the way, we have Stella back.) Ben has orientation today and the girls are back in school, so I'm sitting here aimless and lonely, waiting for George from the insectary at OSU to e-mail me and tell me I have a job and to get myself down to campus. There are plenty of things I could be doing . . . cleaning, memorizing periodic tables and reviewing my Entomology notes so I don't look like an idiot to George. Buuuuut, instead I'll just whine about how quiet the house is.

Stella is settling in nicely. She sleeps in the exact same place and has a surprising amount of energy for an old dog. I expected her to behave a little more . . . elderly, but she seems perky and always up for a walk or two . . . or five. The only thing I've noticed is that she doesn't want to climb the stairs anymore. But it's okay if she just wants to hang out downstairs. Okay, the nostalgia is over as the air is filled with the smell of dog fart.

Since I'm so behind in my blogging, I'll give a quick recap of this past quarter at school.

Microbiology--FUN!!! I've already talked to the coordinator about a possible minor. I loves me my bacteria.
Favorite Microbiology lecturer quote (to be read with an Indian accent): "Science is not nonsense." Yeah, you put that student in his place. Runner up: "No questions? None at all? I call this as the Monday Syndrome." (I love this lady's Indian use of "as" and "which"--for some reason they get unnecessarily inserted into almost every sentence. She's super brilliant though so I'm sure no one will ever correct her, though I really wanted to raise my hand and tell her that reservoir is not pronounced "resa-voy-er")

Math--still fun, I must admit. I loves me my story problems.
Favorite lecturer quote (to be read with a Cuban accent): "For the love of all that is good and holy, don't combine these--they are NOT the same."
Runners up:
--"If these problems involve animals, don't give me a decimal. If you tell me you have .5 rabbits, that's just creepy."
--"Ship, sheep, cheap--I say them all the same. And I never know the difference between 'steak' and 'stake'. There is no difference? Oh . . . good."
--"Plug that in and you'll get a y value and a lot of other crap."
--Our lowest two quiz grades were dropped in this class and I liked his proposal for how I should drop my final quiz grade by leaving early. "You could just wait until the quiz was getting passed out and then stand up and say, 'I have had enough of this!' and walk out." He sounded a lot like Don Quixote saying that. In the end I just meekly took the quiz sheet with me and left. The people around me did look a little bewildered, but it lacked the flair he was imagining.

The bus--still interesting.
--There's the old guy who speaks really sloooooowly, evangelizes everyone and must, MUST, speak to every foreign student near him and use the one word of their language that he knows. This often leads to insulting situations because he can't tell the difference between any nationalities. So you often hear responses like, "I don't understand you. I'm Korean not Chinese." "No, I'm Portuguese, I don't speak Spanish . . . I speak Portuguese." My favorite cringe moment--telling the Chinese girl the Korean joke. "How do you know it was a Korean who broke into your house? Your dog is missing and your homework is done. . . . That's a joke . . . because Koreans eat dogs . . . " The explanation went on for much longer than that, but the klaxon on my inner insensitivity meter went off and I couldn't hear the rest.

Then there's The Pirate. I don't know his real name, just my own cruel label (because why should old evangelicals have all the fun?) He's a down and out older guy with either Tourettes or some basic mental health issues. None of that is funny . . . but bear with me. Our first encounter scared the crap out of me. I was at a bus stop on a side street with no one else around and this slightly creepy guy suddenly started growling and making these sounds that could only be described as classic pirate--ARRRR! ARRRR! I seriously expected him to follow it up with 'Me hearties!' I began to slowly inch away, oh so casually, so as not to alarm him, subtly drifting from my previous location . . . okay, to tell the truth, I pretty much hauled ass. But I still had to wait for the bus, so I remained nearby--but not too nearby--basically out of danger from cutlass attack, but still within flintlock pistol range. So if he had one of those babies concealed somewhere on his person, I was screwed. Since then I've decided he's harmless . . . probably. He's also expanded his repertoire (pronounced rep-a-toy-er) to include what sounds like Bobby McFerrin playing the Swedish Chef from the Muppets. Listening to that makes me genuinely happy . . . which it shouldn't . . . because it's sad . . . but it's not sad . . . because it's Bobby McFerrin as the Swedish Chef, which could never be sad. Anyway, I'm torn.

Sometimes the sadness of the bus gets a little overwhelming. There have been times when I've actually considered just getting off, bailing miles before my stop, because I think I can't handle it any more. I had that feeling as I sat and listened to a girl talk on her phone about getting a "good job" after graduation--like grooming dogs at PetSmart. Her family had told her that she'd never get a job, that working was just not what her family did, but she really wanted to go for that brass ring . . . of 8 dollars an hour. I was depressed for most of the evening after that. Then there was the other day when I had to share a seat with the Pirate and watch this other sad impoverished man try to sleep sitting up in one of the side seats. If only he'd picked a place where he could rest his head on the back of the seat in front of him. But no, there he was with nothing to brace himself, leaning over farther and farther until it looked like gravity would finally win out and send him crashing to the floor. But each time he was about to exceed the angle of repose, he would sit up and it would all begin again. I wanted to cry, but at the same time, I really wanted to see him fall. I believe this is what is referred to as the duality of human nature--or maybe it's just mean. Either way, I was a little disappointed when I got off the bus without seeing him sprawled out on the floor with a thud.

Time to go! I guess this wasn't such a brief update after all.

Beware

you might just laugh until you pee a little

To celebrate Prop 8 being overturned

Math!

I don't know if this is child abuse

or the baby just ate his way into that thing.

You're gonna write a sad poem in your journal and move on

I DON'T WANT TO STUDY ANYMORE!!!!

Friday seems so far away.

I was going to do a photo blog of our Chicago trip

but I've been putting up photos on flickr all day and I'm pooped. So instead I'll simply show you the two weirdest things I saw in Chicago.


Because nothing says martial arts like the name Fitgerald.


The Michael Jackson mummy at the Field Museum.

Blah, Blah, Blah

Ben is attending the first sibling breakfast and I'm home with a sick, sick Evie. This isn't the first time they've ever eaten breakfast together--that would be CRAZY. Nope, this is just the first sibling breakfast to be inspired by the show Parenthood (WATCH it!!!). They're out at some cafe bonding and being all sibling-y and I am jealous. I should be studying for my Rural Soc. final, but I suddenly realized that I probably didn't finish the final problem on my math exam last night--I think I was probably supposed to solve it and I just simplified it and walked away. Suck!!! So in true neurotic fashion I can't focus on anything else. Weeeeeee!

Evie is home today, shortening her last week of school. Where are our immune systems lately? I left for the exam last night at 5 and she said she was sleepy--this made sense considering the fact that she woke up more than an hour early. But when I came home she had fallen asleep on the floor and was burning up. I woke her up to take her temperature and it was 102. What the heck? Didn't she just get over this cold? Do we really need to cycle through this again? Hopefully she didn't pass anything on to Ella and Sophie--the guilt would be too much for me.

I now love CSI. And like Mandy, I don't even feel ashamed about it anymore. What has happened to me?

Ben and I both agree that going to the zoo when it is full of screaming kids and impatient parents is one of the best birth controls ever. And it is also guaranteed to make you feel skinny. I spend my days on campus where almost everyone is somehow thin and perfect, meaning my self-esteem grows thinner and thinner by the day. Someone should have told me to visit the zoo! I walked out of there on Sunday feeling practically anorexic. I also walked out of there with a renewed love of winter--a time when people wear clothes, because most of us just really need to wear more. We went to the zoo this time just to see the Polar Bears and the new Arctic stuff. We didn't realize that this weekend was the switch-over to later hours, so our plan to get there just before closing and have the place to ourselves didn't work out. It was hot, it was crowded, and those damn bears just sat in the shade and panted. (Why do they have Polar Bears outside in an Ohio summer???) There's a plexiglass viewing area under the exhibit that lets you see an underwater view of the Polar Bears swimming. Did they swim? No. Did they move? No. Loser bears.

I started this post because I had something witty to say, but I think that was just a dream.

I will go study now. And it will be fun because it is Rural Soc. and it will involve things like cults and orgasms--yep, you read me right.

CSI

Since I've been sick I've been avoiding homework and basically any responsibility in general. To fill my time I've obeyed Anne and Mandy's wishes and started watching CSI. Yesterday I began season 2. I watched the first 5 episodes in one evening--told you, NO responsibility. Today I'm on my second, no third, episode and just noticed they slipped in some nipple on one of the female cadavers. Was this missed by the network or was it just included on the DVD version? I have to say I was pretty shocked. Not out of any sense of morality--I think we all know my morals have been shot to hell. Nope, just the whole nipple on network tv thing. And am I mistaken or did Grissom yell "assholes" at the cadavers in the pilot? Also a surprise.

Why all the alliteration in this show? Gil Grissom? Sara Sidle? Who thought these up? And does anyone think the name Sara Sidle sounds too much like 'suicidal'? Every time they say her name I have a vision of Garbage Pail Kids. I really think I used to have a Sara Sidle card.

Well, I'm off to finish my episode. Hopefully it won't get any more revealing--sheesh!

Moira:

"I'm in the mood for a documentary."

Yes, I'm sure you are.






P.S.

Spider bite on my hip. I swear to God they're out to get me.

Feeling crappy

I've skipped three classes now because of this stupid cold. Today I dragged myself to math but then went home instead of going to Econ. (By the way, that B was for reals--even with the curve. I think someone should bake me a big frickin' cake.) I barely made it through the 45 minutes of math, sitting in the back row measuring every breath so it didn't trigger a big hacking cough. This is after the big dose of DayQuil--I think maybe I'm immune now. And to make things worse, I pulled a muscle coughing, so it KILLS every time I cough. PITY ME!!!!!!!

The Enter key broke off of our crap computer, making it even crappier. Thank you, Dell, for crafting the most comprehensive piece of shit computer ever made.

Feeling positive.

Is anyone still watching Lost . . . I am.

But whatever you're watching, you should include Treme. And Nurse Jackie and United States of Tara. And you should stop watching V even though I can't. I feel dirty and disappointed after every episode, and yet I return. Why did they cancel Trauma and keep V? And Castle has become so disappointing lately--I find myself giving up on episodes half way through. But for Mandy and Anne I have started CSI. I'm almost through season 1 and I still don't think it's 'good' but I am beginning to appreciate the shameless cheese. And with ten seasons it gives me plenty to watch while I sit on the couch and cough. I can't decide on Justified--sometimes the episodes are solid and other times just too comedic. I don't know if they know what they're going for yet.

I have so many COTA bus stories to tell, but my energy wanes. Today it was fat lascivious driver day--he hits on all the young women, especially tall, skinny redheads. But at least he's cheerful and entertaining--it makes up for all the toe-curling moments.

A friend of ours is pregnant but frustratingly keeping it quiet until . . . I don't know when. I'm guessing when she starts getting really huge, it will become apparent even to the people she doesn't feel like sharing with. So Ben can't send her this on Facebook like I requested. I'm really hoping they'll feel inspired and go for this name too--whether it's a boy or a girl.

Well, well, well

I've just come off another studying binge and am feeling rather victorious. I just want to brag a little and say that I got a hundred percent on a math exam--Math!!! (Don't burst my bubble by reminding me that these are concepts I learned in 8th and 9th grade. Sadly, I'm feeling very challenged at times.) AND I also got my first B. This is a very positive step. However, the average grade was a 60% so I'm thinking my B will probably be rounded up. Alas. This happened in Economics, and I'm sure you already realize that Economics sucks, sucks, sucks. I'm so glad I'm taking the class with my fellow Entomology major, Becky. When she manages to stay awake during class she helps to lighten the mood. I'm so glad I have someone to turn to when our elderly teacher starts to describe the concept of economic utility using the remote control in her hand as an example. "So imagine I buy this remote control. I buy it and it gives me satisfaction. It brings me pleasure." Something tells me she's using that remote control in a way not originally intended by the manufacturer. The class is so excruciatingly boring that something like that is enough to make your day. There was one time that she came into class wearing a brace on her arm. To amuse ourselves we tried to imagine what she did to hurt her wrist. Ideas ranged from tennis to sword fighting, but it was when I imagined her swinging from a trapeze in a leotard that I lost control. I was laughing so hard I had tears running down my face and Becky seriously started panicking that we were going to get kicked out of class. Fortunately it's a huge lecture hall and no one of authority took notice of us. It is only my lack of maturity that keeps me sane in that class.

Meanwhile, in Rural Sociology we get to discuss crime in rural communities--like stealing twenty thousand dollars worth of bull semen. Awesome.

I have a cold. This much snot is not designed to make you feel like a grown-up.

In less than an hour Fringe will be on.

Mail for . . . somebody else

Twice this has happened--TWICE!

An innocuous brown package arrives in the mail on the same day we are expecting a package of our own--so we don't bother checking the name on the box. The first time we accidentally opened a box for . . . (I'm assuming she's a previous tenant?) we were expecting a book. But what Ben saw as he hurriedly opened the package was not a book but rather a gigantic black silicon dildo. The story gets better. Ben felt horrible--not only had he committed mail fraud, but he had also deprived this poor woman of her apparently (based upon the size) much needed dildo. So he called the company listed on the receipt. They said the dildo was ours to keep because it would cost too much to handle the return process--they would mail the individual a new one. (Interestingly, Ben said this was the most professional customer service line he had ever called.) We thought long and hard (heh, heh) about who we could prank by wrapping up this peninsula sized penis as a gift but eventually decided that a landfill was the best place for it.

Then yesterday I was expecting another package, but instead of ripping open a box filled with our new DSL router . . . well, I'll just give you the titles I saw on the sides of the materials inside--

1. Julie Ashton's Anal Beginner's Kit

2. Sportsheets' Under the Bed Restraint System (with the tag line 'Keeping Couples Connected')

(In case you're wondering--the beginner's kit has a variety of sizes and they're all bubblegum pink.)

I felt bad for this person--not only was she lonely, but she hadn't the intelligence to change her mailing address before ordering. Why would you order things just to have them sent to the wrong address? Of course, these could be gifts from some kinky stalker ex-boyfriend who doesn't know she's moved. (not a very good stalker) Whatever the reason for these deliveries, after I overcome the gag reflexes, they are good for a laugh.

Now I just need to figure out who's getting the restraint system for Christmas. "Turns any bed into a bondage playground." Admit it--you've wanted one of these for years.

How RUDE!

We were a little late with the snowstorm clean-up because of a lack of snow shovel. Once we finally got one it took me over 2 hours to shovel out a spot for our car because of the ice. I was very nice and shoveled and salted the area in front of our neighbors door too--this despite the fact that I cannot stand them. In the last month they've had several horrendously loud screaming fights that go on for hours. They say horrible things to each other, apparently he's hit her because she dared him too, etc. I have no sympathy for either party. So I considered myself very generous for shoveling anything belonging to them. Then today I came home and found their car in our shoveled out parking space. WHAT?!? So I had to park in the snow pile that is their alloted space. Is this the epitome of rudeness or what? I will NOT be salting their walk ANYMORE. Harrumph!

Once again being a slacker when I should be studying

So today we were supposed to be happily visiting with Lauren and her family, but we will instead be spending the greater part of the day with the Pandits filling out paperwork. It looks like they will soon be heading back to India due in most part to their misplaced trust in a certain unethical Evangelical bastard who used them to prop up his failing company and then ditched them when they wouldn't convert to Christianity--(I could go on and on about this but there would be far too much swearing).

Their son Avnish is 15 now and a sophomore in high school. After so many years in the American school system he would be completely unequipped to handle the rigors of school back in India. It would be a nightmare. So in the 2 weeks that they have left in the country we're desperately talking to lawyers, etc. trying to find a way to make Ben and I his legal guardians so he can stay in the country and finish school. Ha, ha, ha.

We thought we could possibly move into their condo which would provide a lot more room and privacy for everyone involved--it's has 3 bedroom upstairs with 1 full and 2 half baths, but one of the 1/2 baths is in the finished basement which Avnish uses for his room. We would pay them what we currently dish out for rent and water charges and they would take care of the additional costs. But I'm not sure this is the smartest idea considering he is unemployed and has been for a while. I really don't want to break our lease, move all of our stuff, and then a few months later find out that Dilip can't make the payments and we're suddenly homeless. So I think we'll probably just be cramming Avnish into a corner of our living room and clearing out the coat closet for his use. *sigh* This should be a fun time for everyone involved. I think we're looking at a minimum of 1 year, but it could extend to 2 if the Pandits aren't able to make it back. Unless our income increases markedly, we're looking at some cramped living quarters. But what are you gonna do?

I'll provide updates of course, but if all you Columbus relatives start seeing an Indian boy at family functions, you'll know what happened.

Sylar just said 'nosh'!

Today I had another assertive moment. It involved Aldi and singing potatoes. I was in the fruit and veg aisle when suddenly a hip hop ringtone suddenly went off. No one was around and yet it persisted. I ended up checking my own phone because, sadly, this has happened before. I keep my phone on silent, so I've never actually heard my ringtone. Then somehow the settings got changed and when it went off in the middle of Earth Sciences I ignored it--all the while thinking that the guy next to me was such a douche for just letting his phone ring on and on like that. But the Aldi hip hop ringtone was not my own. As I looked around again and then began subtly digging through the potatoes, I felt certain I was part of some practical joke. Then the song stopped, and having no need for potatoes at the moment, I moved down the aisle. Later when I was in line, a woman came in asking one of the cashiers if they had found something. I couldn't hear what that something was, but I suspected it was lodged somewhere amongst the potatoes. That is when Brave Charitable Jaime once again stepped up and walked over to address the cashier by name (since it is Aldi and we all know each others names, life stories, and favorite grocery items--this is not an exaggeration) and ask what the woman was missing. It was indeed a cell phone. I accompanied the woman back to the potatoes and helped to dig through them to find the little red phone. And she did NOT give me a dollar--so I guess I'm going to heaven after all.

I have all these lacewing eggs that I need to hatch and feed little aphids to. Unfortunately these lacewings are highly voracious and cannibalistic--so if I turn my back on them and one hatches, it could start eating its unborn brothers and sisters . . . and the born ones too. This sucks. I have no time to babysit lacewings. No time! It was fun though when all the plant sciences people heard they'd be bringing aphids home to their apartments full of houseplants.

Amusement defies reason

Ha, ha, ha, ha!

That was an over-caffeinated laugh. Ha, ha, ha.

Studying for tomorrow's Entomology lab quiz. Cockroach guts and insect identification. Ben didn't enjoy helping me study. I feel so alone.

Today I made a profit on charity. A sweet little Asian man didn't have enough change for the bus and the bus driver was about to kick him off. So brave, charitable Jaime spoke up and asked how much he needed. One of my new Prepared Jaime features is to always have a bunch of quarters on me (along with Neosporin, band-aids, and pens). I think I gave him 55 cents. He only had a twenty (which I couldn't break with my quarters--I'm not that prepared) so he thanked me profusely. Then after a little while he made his way up to my seat because he'd found a dollar in his pocket and wanted me to take it. I tried to refuse, but he insisted. So I made 45 cents for being nice, and now my reward in heaven is in the crapper. I'll never get ahead at this rate.

Plate tectonics make me sleepy.

What with Caprica comin' up and all

More things you don't care about

I'm into my second Entomology class and I'm lovin' this one too. This is my test class--if I really dig on this then it's settled--Entomology it is. Last class we did external grasshopper morphology--which meant we poked around on their outsides and then got to tear apart their little faces to see how their mouth parts worked. I also ripped off a cicada's head in my attempt to separate its mouth parts. That was an Oh Shit moment until I realized that's how it needed to be done anyway. Insect mouths = pretty damned crowded.

I will admit here that I was pretty terrified of this lab. I remember dissections as being highly social events and I know no one in this class. I haven't done any dissection since high school and I thought without a friend I would fail, fail, fail. To make it worse I sat down at a table full of people who looked like they hated life. I was doomed. But as soon as it was time to start grabbing equipment, the people around me became talkative and human. (Except for the guy that quickly jumped up from the table and went to sit in the adjacent lab area--and he can go screw himself.) I was definitely the one who demanded the most help and feedback, but whatever. I learned an important lesson--just because the people around you aren't asking questions doesn't mean they actually understand what's going on, they're just content not really knowing. So I pestered the professors and TA, but I got my explanations darnit!

The profs. are so nice and I adore our TA. I'm pretty sure he's gay, which really surprised me. Effeminate men seem like they should be squealing when they see six legged creatures. Ah, the stereotypes that rattle around in my brain.

I know this is probably really boring to everyone, but I just have to say that bugs with piercing/sucking mouth parts are AMAZING! Respect the cicada!