I get my oil changed on a fairly regular basis, which is recommended for all car owners, but me especially. I seem to have a special problem involving cars, oil, and death.
At school, I get my oil changed at Oil Can Henry's. Yeah, it's a kinda chintzy chain, but I have good reasons for going there. First, my ex-boyfriend went there, so it's got that familiarity thing going on, although I don't think I ever went there with him and his car. Second, they give me a $5 off coupon every time I go. I think they do this to everyone, but it makes me feel special. Finally -- and most important -- the oil change guys are really cute.
I find a cute oil change guy to be great; this is especially important since you stay in your car during an oil change at Oil Can Henry's. All the guys seem to be about 20 to 25 or so, and they're all in school of some sort of another. They're all chatty, and they call me miss. And, yes, I do change my oil often enough to have developed a vague rapport with the oil change guys; driving back and forth to Seattle, or to my middle school, or to study sites puts enough mileage on my car that I get oil changed more than once every three months.
Anyway, I just want to applaud the great guys at Oil Can Henry's. It's a pleasure to have a cute guy to look at while your oil gets changed. I know it's shallow, but that's the way life is sometimes.
On a different topic, I'm packing to move and I hate it. Since I dread and hate this moment every year, I'm going to try and go get it done with asap.
or those things animal researchers do in the name of science
In studying for my animal behavior test, I have come across the sad and curious case of the poor little blowfly. Here's how it works:
In the morning, blowfly is hungry. Like us, he has slept all night and now has low blood sugar. His command center detects low blood sugar and signals the brain to feed. The brain then signals the wings to go fly off and find food. The blowfly lands on food and uses the sugar receptors on his foot to find some nice, sugary area; when this is found, he sends a signal to the proboscis to extend, and sugar receptors in the proboscis send an impulse to the brain that says "start drinking!"
When he feeds, he fills his crop (stomach) with sugar that he has scaveneged (via the proboscis and digestive saliva that he excretes). The crop has stretch receptors which send impulses to the recurrent nerve that signals the fly to stop drinking when the crop gets too full. This allows for sensible feeding bouts.
Now, in order to discover all this, what do you think the researchers did? Oh, yes, they cut the link between the stretch receptors and the recurrent nerve. Of course, there were no more sensible feeding bouts. Actually, I should say that there was just one more feeding bout . . . . before the blowfly exploded. Yes, this fly needs a nerve to signal "I'm full, stop eating, or I will explode!"
Botany is a class I enrolled in because I felt like I should. I've never really been interested in plants per se. I think they're cool, and I enjoy owning plants. However, after enduring a botany unit in high school, I swore I would never again voluntarily spend time pouring over stupid slides of root and stem sections in an attempt to painstakingly draw all those tiny, indistinguishable cells.
Come senior year, I needed credits to make the 12 required of a full-time student. I didn't want to waste my last semester on taking 100 or 200 level classes in another discipline. I do agree that it's important to take a wide variety of classes, but I've been there and done that. Instead, I wanted to take extra biology --despite not being required to major -- in order to pad out my schedule.
I wanted to take animal phys, but the lab time conflicted with animal behavior, which I really, really wanted to take. I also wanted to take micro, because the professor is really great. However, I got a lot of advice that botany would be a better class to take if I wanted to go in the direction of field research. Since I know jack squat about plants, I heeded the advice.
is still beautiful, and I still abhor driving between Seattle and Portland. It's not that I hate being in either place, but the waiting between the two is just deplorable.
My coup d'etat for the day was brilliant. I woke up at 7.45 after being up late to finish my thesis. I packed up about 1/3 of the stuff in my apartment, packed up my little car, and got the hamster out there. I printed out my thesis, dropped off a CD of pictures for a friend, and turned in my thesis. My snake was moved and placed in a car for the first time since I bought him two years ago.
I left campus at 10.30, and I made it home by 2. I unloaded the car, took a shower, hit the road, and made it to the ferry docks by 3.50; I was just in time to catch the 4 pm to Vashon Island for card games with a friend that night. See, Brandon, I told you I could do it! I think the quick shower helped a lot.
Anyway, I'm quite tired and destressing from school stuff. I've now turned everything in, and I only have one test left (animal behavior, and it's next week). I'm working all weekend at the Mariner's stadium, and I'll also be unpacking, sorting, junking, and repacking various and sundry items.
Time for sleep, and the great epic of botany will be forthcoming.
There is a definite part of me that doesn't want to finish these papers because that means I really and truly am graduating.
For the count, I have 2 botany tests next week (one Monday and one on Tuesday), my animal behavior research paper due on Monday (update: finished! now, just needs editing, I hope), my capstone paper due on Tuesday, and my research thesis presentation and paper due on Tuesday.
I'm close to done on two one of the papers (and done on one!) and nowhere near it on the third. I really don't have the will to work on them, but I am anyway.
I'm excited to graduate but I am so unspeakably sad about it too. Today, I took my last bioclub fieldtrip. I mentor my last class next Monday at the middle school. I have my last classes on Monday and Tuesday. We had the bio senior party last night (more on that later).
It just seems like everything has gone by so fast. Yes, it's been four years, but I'm just starting to get settled in here. In many ways, I'm ready to leave . . .but on a personal level, leaving will be extremely difficult.
The SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) took a major role in my coming of age. Arguably, I would not have met my first boyfriend nor learned a lot of things had I not become involved with the SCA (okay, the first boyfriend argument is sketchy, but I'm honest when I say that the SCA was somehow involved in me meeting him, even if it's not a direct connection).
I'm actually a big fan of many aspects of the SCA. When I was a small child, I played a lot of D&D, and the SCA was like taking part in a real life D&D game. I could be anyone I wanted, as long as that person was historically accurate. I have a love of history, and who doesn't love dressing up in pretty costumes? All in all, it was really great.
I'm finding it hard to write a real concrete post here about exactly why I like the SCA, so this may ramble a bit -- fair warning.
In the interest of sparking my mind for something to write about, I'd like anyone who would wish to participate in an activity I found at Seanie's LJ. Anything rated PG-13 and below is allowed, but remember that my parents do read this journal.
1) Comment on any subject you would like me to rant on, with likely swearing involved.
2) Watch this space for your rant.
3) Post this in your own journal, so that you may rant for others.
1) Comment on any subject you would like me to rave about.
2) Watch this space for your rave.
3) Post this in your own journal, so that you may rave for others.
Currently listening to Somewhere Out There, by Our Lady Peace. This should not be confused with the song in An American Tail, since it has different lyrics.
Our Lady Peace is an underappreciated Canadian band. If you've never heard of it, you're missing out.
It's one of my favorite Our Lady Peace songs, and I spent a lot of time listening to it as I wandered the canals of Leiden. Listening to it right now is sparking my wonderlust; I can't wait to get out of this little town. Four years is long enough too long for me to live somewhere.
As always, let me know if you'd like the mp3; I'll shoot it straight over via my gmail (oh, and I have lots of gmail invites).