oh the nerdtastic tastey beauty of it!

OH! My goodness, is that a tastey chocolate doughnut displaying the phases of mitosis?? you might say when you see this awesome picture, which was discovered via stumble upon here:

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/5VXZWC/www.kevinvanaelst.com/cellularmitosisweb.jpg

Science nerds and doughnut enthusiasts alike can revel in this beautiful display of the cell sex.

Although I am very fond of the dance my baby bio teacher did to express the way cells multiply, surely this is the best possible way to learn about such a terribly difficult thing to memorize. Who wouldnt be excited to go to a biology class with such confectionary goodness to look forward to?

The evils of capitalism, and psychology: two completely related items

A letter to the two girls who sat behind me in my developmental psychology class this week:

Dear typical HSU students,

Please for the love of God, stop talking. Or at least save the irrelevant opinions that you think some how pertain to a lecture on how poverty effects a child's mental and physical development to yourself until after class. Everyone was on the same page until you decided to open your mouth and tell us all about how communism is evil. These sorts of conversational smoke bombs that destroy a liberals thought process cannot just be dropped on a classroom full of Humboldt students willy nilly. With this kind of mentally destructive power one could destroy a whole... lets say actually informational psychology lecture. Use your discretion or be forced to take the mid-term having no idea what you're being tested on because you've spent the entire semester contemplating how america could be bettered if we would only adapt the economic model that North Korea used.

Those of us who would actually like to learn something from the teacher this semester would really appreciate it if you stopped interrupting her every sentence with countless what if questions. The urge to scream at your unstoppable need to argue every one else into submission with you're non-bathing, live in the trees to be closer to nature point of view is far to hard for me to suppress and take notes at the same time. You go live in your tree with the other people who don't understand that communism doesn't work large scale, I'm gonna pass this class.

Ok?

Break!

Oh summer..

Summer time makes promises of all things that are wonderful and good, then it tells you to get a job or you'll have to come home next year. The sun is shining brilliantly bright outside every day, its beautiful, you should really see it. Unfortunately instead of lounging at the beach munching on a burrito in my fabulous pink polka dot bikini, I am either out walking around in that beautiful 80 degree sun saying to every tiny about to go out of business shop to massive multinational broke corporation "Hi, I was just wondering if you guys are hiring?". The big genuinely fake smile on my face really saying what over 10 % of California's populations is saying: Please give me a job, I'm tired of being broke!

Having newly discovered that I will be responsible for my own rent next semester, and exactly just how much thats going to cost, I've decided maybe I might want to work, you know, for a little pocket change. At least that is what the delusion everyone I tell I'm job hunting to is operating under. No my dear, sweet, confused, middle-aged persons, pocket change is not what I need. I am actually looking to put a very small dent in that massive, dark, harry, scary bill that the California State School system will be sending me very shortly.

In my job search one terrible truth has become entirely too evident. I have no experience. These days, to get a job you would think required no experience what so ever, like bussing tables at a cripey restaurant, needs experience. But dang it, if a person can't get experience doing the brain dead job of wiping down tables and doing dishes, where in the name of Sam Hill are you supposed to get experience. People I know cant just go around owning places for me to get a job at (and I'm certain thats the only way they can be gotten at the moment) just so i can be gainfuly employed.

So I'm digging a hole. A big fat hole right into the ground of my future monetary freedom. Thats what the whole cliche about college is, I suppose. I just guess I was very much hoping it wasn't the reality. The next three years of my life will be spent hoping for financial aid, begging for tuition from parents, and taking out lots of student loans. Thanks CSU, your inexplicable fees, and increased tuition will hopefully teach me how to deal with people taking ridiculous amounts of money for intangible results in the future.

The end of april showers

In a little over 2 weeks i will be leaving the land of ice and snow. Finally, after enduring months upon months of rain and clouds, I get to go home, to the sun. I am taking this opportunity to make a list of things which I will be absolutely elated to be reunited with upon ariving back in San Diego.

1) Starbucks: appropriately at the top of the list, where it should always be. Just like God intended it.

2) A real mattress: anyone who has ever slept on a dorm bed understands this. Im done with trying to get decent shut eye on a rock. I am currently lying on that rock, and I am angry about it.

3) MEXICAN FOOD: I cannot express the depth of importance this holds in peoples general well being and happiness. Angry with someone? A flouta will solve your problem. Teminial illness? Rolled tacos. 

4) The sun: Arguably one of the most important parts of the joy that is San Diego. Get your vitamin D, trust me, life sucks without it.

5) The beach: This goes quite well with #4. Sunshine, bathing suits, waves, sand between your toes, everything that is right and good with the world.

6) Panera Bread: Just good stuff.

7) In-N-Out: God lives there. Enough said. Well, he moves back and forth between there and every cup of starbucks coffee everywhere.

There are more that I cant think of right now because the evil mattress beneath me hurts so much it forces out all intelligent thought, leaving nothing but profanity. 15 days San Diego, 15 days. Im comin' home :)

The Land of Ice and Snow

Once upon a time, there was a terrible land called the land of ice and snow. In the land of ice and snow, the sun never came out and it never stopped raining. The normal people were afraid to leave their homes because outside lurked the Birkenstock-wearing, dread-lock-having, happy-thoughts-cure-cancer, stuck-in-the-60's hippies. They were terrifying. The Land of Ice and Snow was ruled by and eeeeevil dictator, who in addition to banning the sun also banned coffee from the bears, especially European coffee. The evil dictator denied anyone living in the land of ice and snow access to the outside world. He did this by causing all the dragons used for transportation to be perpetually late. This way you could rarely get where you were going on time, if at all. The people living in the land of ice and snow were fed up to here with not being able to leave to feed their bears coffee. They sent multiple letters to the land of sunshine and happiness, and to their corespondents, the Greeks and the Irish. But the Greeks and the Irish were feuding in a great war, and thus had no gold left in their treasuries to use to save Barb and Tru-D, two of the people suffering most of the ailments that come from living in this dreaded land. So, the coffee deprived people of the land and ice and snow banded together. Edna, the leader of the deprived, called a meeting of all those with starving bears. The people yelled. They cried, the argued about the coffee and the dictator! Finally they decided something must be done. One brave soul named lower frank purposed that instead of the dragons, we build and enormous magical flying machine that could carry them all to the land of sunshine and happiness. So they began construction. There was much grueling labor, torment, sweat and toil put into the making of the magical flying machine. It was tough. They had to think happy thoughts, which is hard to do when you've got an angry bear on your hands. Finally they finished the magic flying machine. The Greeks and the Irish rejoiced and made peace. They formed a welcome party for Barb and Tru-Ds return. There was much celebrating, and much coffee, and all were happy.

The End

DISCLAIMER: no drugs were abused in the making of this story, just a lot of coffee deprivation. It'll drive you to do weird shihhh. This is your warning. Feed your bear coffee, for the love of all that is good and holy.

Thank You

Tru-D

Mommy guess what i learned in school today!

Good evening and welcome to another exciting installment to the college edition of my rants. As I'm sure you're aware, you diligent reader you, I am currently attending HSU. And in the wonderful world of pot heads, I am taking a world religion class. "Oh, that sounds like it would be an enlightening and educational experience." you might think. So did I. This belief persisted until i realized that guy at the front of the class who just raised his hand for the 400th time in the last 50 minutes is never going to stop trying to teach the class. His name is Lidea, which I think is very fitting to his role as pretentious college student #472. (I'm number 471) He is a religious studies major, who wants to become a Rabbi, which proved extra helpful during the Judaism portion of the class, and I now spend the greater part of my 120 minutes in World Religion thinking about what different objects would look like bouncing off of his self inflated cranium. Which happens to be capped by the beret that he wears every day. Now you're probably thinking: "Well gosh. You should really be nicer about this, this Lidea character cant be all bad." Well, you're right. Lidea does have some good qualities I'm sure. For one, there is not a single subject that he cannot form an opinion on. He is just that worldly.

Lidea has a pretentious college counterpart with a mullet and a flare for feminism. She reminds me of a turtle, and like pretentious college boy she seems to have this odd muscle dysfunction that doesn't allow her to lower her arm at the appropriate times. She is also filled with useful information on how America is full of evil doers who wish to corrupt the world, and all organized religion simply exists to get people to submit. These two often have discussions that they enjoy sharing with the class for extended periods of time, so as to enlighten our clearly mislead teacher and the rest of the class.

Today, in this wonderful world I like to call: arguments about the unimportant at an hour i should still be in bed, we had a guest speaker. He was supposed to talk about Islamic militancy. (Before i write the next little stint i would like to point out that I have a great deal of respect for Islam, it is a generally peaceful religion and its too bad that it gets such a bad rap.) So This guest speaker guy starts to talk about how miss-understood Osama Bin Laden is. Super awesome. Apparently he's just trying to model his religious

prophet and, Americans should try harder to sympathize with him Riiight. I'll get right on

that. Oh and by the way he says, Americans all practice some religion where the

constitution is out religious text and we worship the president. I know Obama is a little more

charismatic than our last guy, but i wouldn't call him a god.

You'd better believe our dynamic duo had something to say about this. The sad thing is that

this guest speaker has been the only one so far this semester not to just let them run with

their own theories and take over the class.

This is hardly a good thing. If the only people brave enough to stand up to the people forcing

their opinions on the public is a man with radical, if not terrifying, beliefs, the country's

in for a rough patch when these two fine specimen of Humboldt State graduate to yelling at

not just other college kids.

The bootay call

During my recent lapse in writing I have experienced on of many mile-stones of American youth. That's right folks, I've graduated and gone to college. Amazing I know. I managed to evade the ever increasing high school drop out statistics and get that piece of blank, rolled up paper. Now I get to join the ranks of the many pretentious students and seemingly further my education. Here's some of what I've learned:

During my limited college experiences thus far I've noticed one very prevalent phenomenon. This is the "booty call". You may already know this as the attempt made by a generally sleazy male, ages 15-302, depending on the ability to work his way around the foot shoved in his mouth, to have a no strings attached hook up.

While I haven't seen much so far, I believe this is particularly prevalent among freshmen. This could be brought on by that marvelous "I'm in college, and college is about hooking up, and hooking up only" (oh and don't forget the binge drinking) attitude. Both girls and boys are guilty of this one, no matter what we want to believe. For the girls, any otherwise devastating life choice can be brushed away with a "well its your freshman year, this is what your supposed to be doing." from one of those great friends who's name you wont remember tomorrow. How this is an excuse for catching seven different STD's in one night eludes me. And for the boys, "dude i was drunk, i swear she was hotter than that" will suffice.

The ultimate and most pure form of a booty call is of course when the booty-callee receives a text message, generally after 9pm inviting them to do something mundane, like hanging out in his room. This is fallowed by some physical activity and then an awkward "you should go, I have a class tomorrow..." never mind that tomorrow is Sunday, just continue on the walk back to your room hair disheveled and clothes missing buttons. Whatever you do don't take your eyes off the ground. Goodness knows you cant have the others doing the same thing see your whole face, otherwise you might have to discuss what you're doing.

But this is not the only way to behave when the booty call attacks, not at all. There are those who completely ignore the confused/ horrified look on their partners face and the necessary walk of shame. These people choose to instead misinterpret the affair as a relationship. I've witnessed many a beautiful relationship bloom between two random people through the implication of a hook up. This usually happens when one of the participants had some sort of real attraction before the unannounced mistake. The purely physical relationship is sustained by awkwardly biting back your utter disgust at the other persons lack of personality before you make out already, calling sitting in your dorm watching a movie a date, and avoiding eye contact and physical affection while in public. Give it a week and the person who wasn't interested in the first place will stop waving when they walk by each other in the dining hall.

However unpleasant this is, it seems an inevitable part of your experience as a young adult. So, get out there and head to your favorite pretentious college kids room and try and ignore the shame, it's at least a little fun right?