we're all going to die

So my virology professor is crazy. She is a yellow journalist if even I have met one. Since someone asked me for a definition the other when I was talking about this, I will provide one here. Yellow journalism is sensational journalism, exaggeration for the sake of selling papers. Well my prof is convinced that we're all going to die of the Bird Flu once the virus mutates so that it can be transmitted by human to human contact.

The concept of viruses is interesting. I read a book for that class by Richard Preston, The Hot Zone. Good but scary book. It's about Ebola, but at the end, Preston makes an interesting comparison. Preston says that viruses may be the earth's immune system. Just as our immune systems have mechanisms for fighting off "invaders," Preston says that viruses might be nature's way of fighting off its invaders- us.

My professor might be right. We might all die.

But what I really wanted to say is this: I don't really care. Before you think I'm being morbid, let me explain. The other day in class, I turned to my friend (who is also a Christian), and I asked her if she thought that we didn't care about this is much since we're Christians. We agreed that that was true. Our professor is talking about stockpiling! That's a little extreme for my tastes. But when I turned to my other friend and said, "So I might die tomorrow, so what?" She looked at me like I was a crazy person.

My friend Chase is living in a dangerous neighborhood in Chicago where there was just a gang related shooting. Yeah, this world is dangerous. Yup, sometimes we have to go to dangerous places to do the things we feel called to do. I guess I'm just saying that my faith in God and my assurance in heaven give me the confidence to do what I need to do and go where I need to go despite the dangers always around the corner.

accent with a cherry on top, please

What girl doesn't love a guy with an accent? British, Brazilian, and even the occasional Birmingham have all been known to perk up my ears.

What got me thinking about this was my study break to Starbucks. I guess I could just call it my Starbucks break. I recently heard a comedian say, "At my house we don't call it Starbucks, we call it four-bucks." Funny, but a topic for another time. Writing this blog is my second break just in case you were wondering.

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"I'd like a grande caramel light frappuccino, please."
"Nope," the guy behind the counter says jokingly. Because he wants to hear me say:
"Pretty please...with a cherry on top?" So I do.

But the guy making my drink is unfamiliar. Somehow, on Southport Road, not only is the new Starbucks guy British-ish, but so is the lady in front of me. So they have a fairly lengthy conversation about where they're from and how they got here (instead of making my drink), but I don't mind because it is interesting and I am eavesdropping.

The new employee seems about 35 and resembles Russell Crowe (who I am aware is from Australia). He hands me my light frappuccino, which apparently, pretty-please-with-a-cherry-on-top didn't tell him was supposed to have whipped cream. They assume that people who order light frappuccinos don't want whipped cream. But I do. So I sweetly ask Russell Crowe to add a bit for me. As he hands me back my drink, he says, in the cutest accent, "There ya go, flower." Melting occurs.

If pretty-please-with-a-cherry-on-top had called me flower, I would have thought he was a weirdo. Russell Crowe, on the other hand, can call me anything he wants.

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PS: I just found the coolest website that has recordings of people from all over the world saying the same phrase to compare accents. It I wasn't supposed to be studying, I'd still be on there. Check it out. If you're as much of a language nerd as I am, you'll absolutely love it!

PPS: Kent pointed out that Russell Crowe is from New Zealand. And he was born there, but he grew up in Australia. I said, "Whatever. The important thing is that he now works at my Starbucks."

trick or test

I have been studying all weekend. Because of Halloween. Yes, that's right. Because of Halloween.

I was scheduled to have two exams this coming Tuesday: Plant Molecular Bio and Regenerative Bio. Thanks to the idiots in my class, I am still scheduled to have two exams this coming Tuesday.

Our regenerative prof said, "So I hear that some of you would prefer to have this exam on Thursday." And I was thinking, thank you Jesus. "Let's take a vote," he said. "How many would prefer that the exam still be on Tuesday as scheduled?" And over half the class raised their hands! My jaw dropped. What in the world are they thinking? Most of these people are in my Plant class. Apparently they want to be able to go to drunken Halloween parties on Wednesday night without having to worry about an exam the next day. Let's just say I was slightly pissed.

So for this reason I am spending the whole weekend studying for two exams that are on the same day. Did I mention that these are the two classes in which I did the worst on the first round of exams?

I hate studying. And I hate saying no to fun stuff in order to study. My friends wanted me to go out with them last night, but I knew that I would spend the whole time feeling guilty about not studying. Unfortunately, I am getting old and cannot seem to study past about midnight. My brain just shuts off. So having fun and then coming home to study is not an option. I resent this grad program that I am in not only because I cannot see how it is going to benefit me in the future, but also because it is keeping me from enjoying my life right now. I hate missing out on things. I refuse to listen to my ipod in public places because I might miss something interesting that is going on around me. And I think this is a good thing for the most part. But I also need to remember that life will go on without me. And that I now have a much better understanding of DNA than I did a month ago. That's beneficial, right?

How I got to self-analysis from Halloween I do not know. Actually, I do. Too many flashcards.

no ifs ands or ...

Butts.

Thank you NPR for a good laugh on the way to work this morning.

They reported a story out of Dallas, Texas where deputy mayor Dwaine Caraway, tried to pass a law banning saggin'. Probably the funniest thing of all was hearing the person on NPR say the word saggin'. Saggin', no sagging. Thanks for getting that right, NPR.

Apparently, for some, the trend has moved from showing your boxers to not wearing any underwear at all?! Thankfully I haven't seen this one.

Obviously they learned that you can't really make a law against saggin' pants. But they can still do something about it. A rapper named Dewayne Brown aka Dooney saw Caraway on tv and had already been working on a song called "Pull Your Pants Up." How perfect.

As they played clips of the song on NPR I was laughing out loud in my car. What a great way to start off the morning.

Here's the actual story that they read if you want to check it out.

You really should go to the website and click on the audio file under the picture above to hear the song. It's hilarious.

a little poetry

I was thinking about this poem today and so I thought I'd put it up here. It's one that I wrote for my creative writing class my junior year.

scalpels at supper

It seems they’re hardly ever there together,

but still each night she makes a meal for two.

She understands the weight the scalpel bears;

he takes her place when power shifts at five.

They love their work, but hate the separation.

At times it’s hard to love each other quite enough.

He’s always saying they should quit obsessing

about the cuts: incisions, needles, guts.

She says that it’s ok for them to dwell

on things that they both love, that brought them here

to this: it’s five am, she waits for him

to eat the meal she made for them last night.

She just ate breakfast and he’s too tired

to eat. But for now, they just let it go.

computer woes

You should be able to see the pictures on my last post now. My computer is getting old and sad. I've had to completely rebuild it the past few days. Not take it apart, just wipe it clean and start over. Obviously, like I could take apart a computer.

who says living at home isn't fun?

Well I never had a problem with moving back in with my parents when I finished undergrad. It represented that I wasn' t exactly where I wanted to be with my life, but the actual living arangement is quite nice. When my brother isn't home for the weekend, it's just me and my parents. We get along well. They don't care where I go or how late I'm out. We go out to eat a lot. My mom and I go shopping. Life here is good. And luckily, I have good friends here. We went miniture golfing last weekend and I thought I'd post a few pictures on here.

This would be me- the second place finisher

Robert- the winner

Notice that he was also the score keeper:)

Kent claims I was trying to take a picture of his butt.

Me and Melanie

After this happened for the second time, Kent and I decided that the pink and orange ball just wanted to be together. The pink one was Kent's of course.

And here's a picture of Josh and I heading off to our first of six shows that we have season tickets for! This was Cirque Dreams and it was really good. Next we'll be seeing Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and, true to form, I think we basically already know what we're going to wear:)

And here are a few more pictures. Since I cleaned my room today I thought I'd take a few pictures of my "new apartment."

This is my bedroom

And my living room

And of course my office.