Sudden epiphany

This morning I spent about an hour and a half slowly and boredly reading the first chapter of a book called "The Physics of Medicine". It took that long because I was alternately reading said chapter, reading xkcd and browsing Wikipedia.

Then I remembered that I have some other homework. I have to write something backwards on a sheet of paper and hand it in, because we're starting optics in Physics (observing how stuff reflected in a mirror appears inverted. I NEVER NOTICED THAT). Since I can write anything I want, I spent about two hours avidly researching Godzilla on the Interwebs.

There is something odd about this. Behold the list:

a) While reading the anatomy book, I was bored and did not identify with what I was learning about. However I researched Godzilla with much interest; I had fun.

b) I learned more when reading about Godzilla than when reading the book.**

c) Both were fairly easy tasks to do.

d) Both assignments are for the same subject.


Conclusion: Screw anatomy, we should learn about monsters at school.


**Interesting things I learned from anatomy book: why it is, exactly, that we shrink after hitting 80, and the maximum height you can fall from without bending your knees without breaking your ankles.
Interesting things I learned from Godzilla research: a great many large, fictional monster facts to write about, a bit about culture, and some new words to boot.

Mouse

I don't want to go to school tomorrow! Well, actually, today. It's past midnight. I really don't want to go... I want to take the day off and lie in bed and eat oranges (which I've been craving for some reason. Luckily there's a big bag of them downstairs).

We dissected a mouse in my elective Biology class about two weeks ago. Then we had a funeral for it (rather, for what was left of it). Here's a photo of the mourning relatives around the grave, because I'm not going to post a picture of the mouse [gory spoiler] slit open, with no head to speak of, nor any lungs, heart, stomach, liver, etc., and with its guts hanging out [/gory spoiler].

See the cross? It's eensy...

Then yesterday I was walking by the grave, which is situated in the grassy bit behind the labs, and saw that the grave had been disturbed. I guess someone decided to dig it up to see what it was.

I hope they found a nasty surprise, and if so, that's what they for disturbing the departed.

I don't want to get old!

Noooo! Nooooo!

I hadn't really thought about it, but I'll be finishing high school in a few months. A few short, short months. Well, right now they feel kind of long. I suppose because I have work to do. But pretty soon it may start feeling like I have little time left.

But! My point still stands. I'm in my last trimester of pregn school. Of, uh, high school.

Today, after Literature class (Hey. HEY. After these three or so months are over, I'll never EVER have to take a Literature class again. Hah! Hahaha! HAHAHA!!!)... anyway, after class, these dudes came by to tell us t hat in two weeks, they're taking the school photo.

Damn! Hadn't had one of those for years, and I won't for many years to come. Eek.

This year, they're making a yearbook, too, which they hadn't done with previous generations. So I can purchase a flimsy thing, resembling an ugly magazine, with photos of all the people I don't know who just happen to be in my grade (no fancy-pants binding here, no siree!).

Which is not to say I'm not totally going to get it, but, you know. Odd. If someone there becomes famous, I can sell their photos to... someone else. With money.

I mean, I know I'm not actually old, or near growing up (right? right??) but it's still kinda creepy.

Snoring

I've been told I snore ("Lalli, you snore.", "Andrea, you were snoring last night." Um, sorry), but I'd never been able to verify this. I mean, I knew it was true, 'cause a bunch of people have told me, plus I'm not a terribly delicate person in bed (What? No, I mean sleeping. As in, I used to kick, and whap people across the face with my arm when I rolled over. And someone thwacked me back a few times. I've stopped doing that now... or maybe people stopped telling me).

But recently...

Well, I woke myself up with my own snores. It was really weird. I somehow pushed myself up the bed, so my head was leaning back over the edge. I woke up suddenly, but I couldn't figure out why. I had been pondering this for a few short moments when I heard a big snore.

I was all, dude, someone's snoring. BUT I'M ALONE. WHAT UP. Snooooore. Oh, it's me! Phew.

It turns out that with my head leaning back, I kept snoring even after I woke up. Odd. Even odder than the fact that I was snoring loud enough to actually wake myself up.

Tee hee.

Shaun das Schaf

This winter I was in Germany for a few hours. I bought a coat, a notebook, a Birthday card, a bit of hand cream and a pillow.

It is an awesome effing pillow.

It mostly wasn't hard, especially considering that my German vocabulary was limited to:

Yes, no, heaven, mother, father, piano, thank you, good morning, you have me, love is for everyone, come in my boat, I love you, it's wonderful, Germany, leather trousers.

Let me tell you about when I bought my pillow. I was in this little shop place (well, it wasn't that little) and there were two whole display cases dedicated to Shaun the Sheep.

I got all excited, because I love Shaun the Sheep and you can't really buy any merchandise in Mexico. So I was hovering there to see what could buy, and this is the awesome part... two german kids walked by, saw the display, and one of them started singing the theme song in German. I was all, cooooool!

So I eventually picked a Shaun the Sheep pillow (except since this was in Germany and all, it says "Shaun das Schaf", and now I can add schaf to my vocabulary) and went to the checkout. The dude there said:

German German German German German German German German German German German German euros German.

And held out his hand.

The whole time he was talking I was thinking Awesome, an actual person from Germany is speaking to me!! In German!! And while I may never know what it is exactly that he said to me, what I do know is that he did not say: mother, leather trousers, nor to come in his boat. Neither did he tell me that he loved me, but that was to be expected (and yet still crushingly disappointing).

So I handed over my money, and he gave me my receipt and change, and I employed my knowledge of the language to its full extent:

Danke!

And he raised his eyebrows at me and made a surprised noise, which means that during his previous speech he could totally tell from my face that I didn't understand squat.

Thank you, Rammstein.

This and something else (a dude who told me that if I have a funky last name, I should speak German) got me thinking... I ought to learn the language. It sounds awesome. So, with the help of my mother** I have now learned to say "Would you like a cigarette?"

**My mom doesn't speak much German, but she has a butt-kickingly awesome pronunciation. Except for her R's, which she's been told she shouldn't roll because only German farmers from some hick town roll their R's. But... well, even speaking like a German farmer hick is cool, as far as I'm concerned. Plus, if I'm descended from farmer hicks, well, that's nothing to be ashamed of, now is it? LONG LIVE HICKS!! Although I'm not rolling my R's, which makes me a hypocrite after all I've said. But whatever. Deep down I'll know I'm a hick at heart.

Bacteria part 1

Aah! Almost a month without posting, which means there's been a month of homework. Lots and lots of homework.

Because, you see, all teachers have the idea that our workload peaks just before our exams, and then drastically decreases afterward, leaving us with spare time to laze around and do nothing. So, to help us use our time productively, many of my teachers keep giving us a bundle of assignments because they think nobody else is. So actually I'm busier now than I was before or during exams.

Gaaghr.




Why do we call only textbooks "textbooks"? EVERY book is a textbook, or it wouldn't be a book.




At school (which I live and breathe for) my elective-biology-class-team and I cultivated bacteria from most of the washrooms at school.

It was SO FUN (no sarcasm).

First, we made the medium for cultivating our bacteria. That was probably the hardest part. We chose to make MacConkey agar, because all sorts of fun disease-causing bacteria can live there.

Google searches later revealed to me that you can buy this stuff pre-made. We, however, found a recipe on some website and set about mixing up a bacterial playground. That's wasn't so hard, but it was a bit tedious. Also, the stupid peptone wouldn't dissolve, so we had to chase it around the flask with two stirring rods to try to mash it up a bit. So once it was sufficiently dissolved, we were supposed to pour it into sterilized Petri dishes and put it in a little oven thingy-box to set. The dishes weren't sterilized, though, so our medium had to wait a whole week.

Somehow, during the week it was on the shelf, the fungus growing in the flask next to it (which belonged to another dude) managed to send some adventurous spores out. The spores somehow managed to penetrate the aluminum lid on our flask (osmosis??) and grow in our medium, so that when we checked on it it was unfit for our bacteria (which deserve only the best, you know).

So we made the medium again, mushed up the peptone, sterilized everything, poured it into the Petri dishes, put it in the oven boxy-thing and the DAMN THING DIDN'T SET. So we were left with a dozen or so Petri dishes full of sticky purple liquid, while other people growing cultures already had happy little colonies.

The teacher, who may have been tired of us messing up, asked to see the recipe we used to make the growth medium. He was all, "You need more agar for this to set", because agar is sort of like the grenetine, or gelatine, in Jell-O. It makes it wiggle. This incited much whining, mostly along the lines of "We have to make the medium again?? The stupid peptone won't dissolve."

Luckily, the teacher said we could just use the medium we had and add more agar. We put in way more than he told us to, just for good measure (I mean, bacteria grow on anything, and they like agar, so what the hell). We sterilized it, and it didn't set. Again.

Personally, I think the peptone is to blame. I bet it was old or something. But really I have no idea.

The teacher told us to just give up, and use it as a liquid medium. Because, again, bacteria grow on anything, and we just want to get... well, anything that might be in the washrooms.


I'm stopping here, since it's five to midnight and I have to study for a presentation I have to give. Oh, and print some stuff. And brush up on Psychology, because I have a test...

We sterilize stuff in a big pot.
The last time we did this, we didn't have aluminum foil, so we used a face mask.

Ode to a pig in a Blanket

Part I.
Innocent piggies

Little piggies, little piggies, here I come...!
Wait for me, piggies, there's no need to run–
for good care I'll take of you, soon you shall see,
oh! How nice and warm you'll be in my belly!
But if you want to stay there, I'm afraid it can't be so:
although you may not want to, there are places you must go.
You'll help me build muscles, and keep my reflexes snappy–
but most importantly, piggies, you'll make me very happy!



Part II.
In the oven


Now all you little piggies should bundle up quite snug;
roll inside your blankets and give yourselves a hug.
Stay there on the tray; you must be tired, go to sleep!
Mom will put you in the oven and then turn up the heat,
but what started out as toasty now begins to burn!
"Help! Let us out! This will be our urn!"
Scream and twist, little piggies, there's no way to get out!
Go ahead and try, but you can't even move about
for what started as a blanket soon began to swell
and now confines your movement in this scorching prison cell.
Roll about, you can't get up, here you'll meet your end!

You know what I said before was merely all pretend.
I told you you'd be happy, I said: "How nice and warm!"
except instead of feeling nice you're seeming quite forlorn.
Could it be you've finished baking? Has the oven done its job?
Then come out, little piggies, there's no more need to sob!
Your blankets now are golden, your bodies limp and soft;
my hand reaches towards you, it lifts you up, aloft.
I gnash you, I mash you, with juice I wash you down,

You're delicious, little piggies! You have the best blankets in town!


My mom made pigs in a blanket today. They were dee-licious. Also, this was surprisingly FUN to write, even though it turned out wonky.