I went to a party last night. I was a girly-girl spa party. We did the whole pampering thing, which included our feetsies. I used a salt scrub and some lotion stuff and my feet are SO SOFT now! It's amazing. I love it.

This was a good thing I was nice to my feet too, because I did a lot of walking today. It was seriously fun. After the walkie-walk, I decided it would be a hoot to go bowling. Ironically my second time bowling ever was actually worse then my first time. My highest score today was an 83.

Sadder still? That 83 won that game.

I lost all the rest of the games though. In fact, I finished the last game with a 17. How's that for Master Bowler? What was most humiliating though, was the fact that the four year old boy playing two lanes down from our group finished his last game with a 257, with no help from anyone.

A 257!

He even had trophies from a competition that happened earlier in the day. Trophies, man. Oh well, we were at the end so nobody could see our screen...or smell our shame. At least I didn't throw the ball out into the crowd this time. I guess that's something.


Poor miss Lanie May.
Today she has a Headache,
And is sleeping here.


I actually managed to finagle an "A" on my Zoology mid-term. Yes, I am as surprised as you are.

Since there is something clinically wrong with me, I made up a song about it. The A Song. It's sung to the tune of "Row Row Row Your Boat" and it goes:

A, A, A, A-A
A, A, A, A, A,...

Well, you get the point. I didn't make up a dance this time. See, I am so getting better.


Mouth pain is sucky.
I bit my tongue last week now,
And it still hurts, man.


As some of you may not know, I'm a mentor with a local middle school. Stop making those faces! I happen to be a very good influence on grubby smelly little children.

I'm currently assigned to an eighth grader, who I visit every Tuesday. Yesterday, after already sending a call notice to her, she showed up in the office and pouted at me. It seems she had been waiting in our regular room. I however, commented that I figured she wasn't there, because the lights were off. I believe then some comment was made about a note on the board which described her being in the computer lab, and how vision in the dark looses it's efficiency in old age.

I'm saving all her lops up for one gigantic pummeling.

I went with her to the computer lab where we did some research on an interview she had today. She got to pick a profession out of a hat, and then had to come prepared to class to give an interview about what it was like to be in that profession. She picked "Elementary School Teacher" which, surprisingly enough, was extremely hard to find any interview preparation questions for. Eventually I did, and while I was saving them on a disk to print, a conversation started...

"Oh. We're having a drill today."

Dread sweeps over me. Visions of fighting laughing, jabbing, bumping mobs of middle schoolers to get to some designated place where you're forced to stand in line and wait for someone to hold up a sign to say you didn't burn to a crisp flash through my mind. "A fire drill?" I asked tentively, hoping for the best.

She shook her head, and rolled her eyes. "An earthquake drill. We watched a video yesterday that said we could have one any minute."

Uhhu. We could get burnt up by foaming waves of white-hot lava before we have an earthquake, but I don't point this out. Don't want to scare the kiddies. "An earthquake drill, hu? I've never been in one of those before."

"You have to duck and cover under the table."

I laughed. We were sitting at a long ten person table completely covered in computer equipment. If I don't get squished by falling monitors, surely I'll be strangled by the millions of cords hanging everywhere.

Granted, I don't want to argue with school authority when I'm supposed to be monitoring but..."How about no?" I say, staring at the ceiling.

Since I have trained her so well, she went to go ask the instructor in the Computer Lab if I had to participate. I waited, eventually she came back, and slumping down in her chair she said, "Everyone has to participate."

Fine. I've never been in an Earthquake drill before, so what the freaking heck. "Ok, so, what do we have to do?"

"We have to get under a table and stay there until they all clear. Or stand in a doorway."

Well, since the doorways were all those doors that have the hinges so they self shut and I didn't feel like getting sliced in half by a door, and the tables were covered in computer equipment. Both those options were out. We decided to go back to the room we meet in, and wait for the earthquake to hit. I kept hoping that the school had put the building up on hydraulics, and would slosh us all up like a gigantanormus milkshake, but to my dismay, all I got was an announcement over the PA system. I was sad.

"Attention students, an earthquake has started, please duck and cover until the all clear is given, and then evacuate the school. If it isn't done right, we will have to do it again." I could hear the groans of the students in the rooms surrounding me, but Mr. PA didn't seem to care, "Remember, duck and cover."

"There once was a turtle by the name of Burt..." I sang quietly to myself. It's extremely important that you can entertain yourself, you see. I try and teach this to my Mentees whenever possible. It builds self-esteem, and all those sorts of peoplely rubbish.

Like drunken sailors, we flopped under the table in our meeting room, and grimaced at the gum stuck to the bottom. "Some people." My Mentee said with disgust.

"It's ok." I told her, "They've all died in the Earthquake."

"Attention students," The PA squawked to life again, "If you are under a table," Look at that, I thought bitterly, I am. "If you're under a table, it's shaking right now, so hold on to the table legs and shake with it."

My Mentee spazamed for a table leg, and convulsed a bit, in a weird rubbery chicken sort of fashion. "Oh no! The table has fallen on us!"

I nodded "We're dead."


We stared at each other under the table, making tongue-hanging-out-bloated-dead-faces until the announcement was made that an "All Clear" was given.

"Please exit the building in an orderly manner." The PA barked.

"How can we? We've died!"

"We're zombies, so we can exit in a lumbering manner. That's almost as good."

As we wandered outside, I switched to stealth Zombie Mode I heard the principal shout at the children that this was a serious matter. Instead, I made my serious face, and held the door open for rough-housing little children as they flowed from the building. I felt bad for them, because there was no staff in sight (early lunch perhaps?) and I was stuck holding the door.

If there was a real earthquake, I'm pretty sure they'd all be doomed. And no, I didn't shut the door on any of them. On purpose anyway.

Weaving through the teeming mass of yelling and screaming children, I met up with the Librarians (who hadn't abandoned the 'umpkins in their time of crisis, bless them) I was approached by two other teachers.

"Did your children all do it right?" One asked me. It must have been the badge hanging from my neck that made me look like a teacher, I thought. Or maybe I just exuded teacher vibes. I should ask for a parking space and tenure.

I studied them thoughtfully, "No." I said very slowly, "No, they didn't." I made thinking harder faces, which for me takes hardly thinking at all. "No, I think they need to do it again."

As I left a few minutes later, I knew deep in the heart of my heart that the children would all thank me for their second go-round someday. They would look up to me with their shining, smiling faces, and I would bask in their earthquake drill educated love. After all, like Narrator says, it's important to know just what to do.


Don't worry sillies.
No one paid me any mind,
To my babbling.


I can't bring myself to eat. The past three months have been especially bad. I think I went four days last week without eating something. I don't know if it's just that I'm going in so many directions at once that I forget, or if it's because nothing tastes or sounds good. I've got twenty minutes or so to eat breakfast before I head off to study and then take my Zoo Mid-Term but I just can't. I know I should, or I'll have a wicked headache by the time Pottery rolls around tonight, but I don't wanna.

I feel like two separate people. There is the adult me saying "Eat it! Don't you know there are starving children in Vokoslavakia?" while the three year old me is sitting there with my lips pinched into a white line and humming "Be Kind To Your Web-Footed Friends" with my fingers stuck in my ears.

Any suggestions?


Wish me luck, okay?
Today is the start of it,
Two weeks of mid-terms.

Edit: Just to make it perfectly clear: I am not pregnant. I want to hear no more of that blasphemous vile talk!

Thank you.


Dude, Pollyanna is a fantastic movie.

I'm not just saying this because my brain is so stuffed full of useless Zoology facts that even drooling or poking myself in the eye would be a welcome and thrilling experience right now. Honest. I'm saying it because it is. Hayley Mills rocks. Guess what is on next? The Parent Trap! Hurray for twice the Hayley Mills! Hurray!

Please don't make me study anymore. My greymatter hurts. I promise to be a good girl from now on. I promise. I know what kind of blood a shark has. Really I do. I know all the types of scales on fishes and I know how to properly pronounce Sarcopterygii. I know all sorts of uselessfull things that I swear I'll put to good use for the rest of my life. Cross my heart, three fingers to God. Can I stop now? Please can I? Please?
I didn't go anywhere today. I scrapped all my plans to go with a friend to a festival (hokey, but oddly enjoyable), and insted I'm going to study. Yeah, you heard me right. I've got a mid-term on Monday, and unless I can pay someone smart to take it for me, I'm stuck craming facts I won't ever remember during the test but will be able to recall anytime after for no reason at all for the rest of the day.

It's pouring down rain, it's actually raining hard enough that visability is really sucky. Is it horrible that I'm kind of glad I'm not stuck out in that? I mean, I love rain and all, but the wet rat look just really doesn't do anything for me.
Yesterday I was told by an African-American male student that I was "Being Held Down By The Man" (yes, he said it with each word in caps, like that). This, of course, made me bust out laughing. I told him that I am glad he told me, because I wasn't even aware of it (of course not, he said, very serious-like) and that I would add it as part of my introduction to the staff at the Student Forum:

"Hello, my name is Jamie King. I'm a dual major, Biology and Early Childhood Education. This is my fourth term here, and I'm Being Held Down By The Man. Thank you."

He told me this was fantastic, and that he would completely support me if I felt that I could be brave and honest enough to admit this to the fifty million people in the audience. This led to even more laughing on my part.

I didn't take him seriously for a few reasons. The first being that he wasn't serious at all anyway, the second was that it was coming from the same guy who asked me to marry him and his argument for when I told him no was that we'd make beautiful Mulatto children together, and wouldn't I think of the children? This was said, by the way, while he was scarfing down fries he had stolen from my lunch.

See? How can you take anyone seriously about your being held down by The Man, when they're yapping with their mouth full of food they stole from your plate? I certainly can't. I guess there is no hope for me after all. Here's to twenty-four more years of being Held Down for me!


It is raining now.
I love it when it rains but,
I miss the sun, yo.


Loads and buckets o' luck to my fine friend Kelly, who has a swanky second interview for a job today. I'm totally rooting for you girl! Now, get it, and support me already!
That was entirely too much fun. I sat on the panel with four other students. Two of which I know already (and are both completely a riot to be around) so it made it a lot easier.

We talked about our experiences at Chemeketa, and what we would change if we could change the system for new students. We also talked about what frustrated us, what surprised us, and what we've enjoyed.

The panel was only 40 minutes long, so we really didn't get to discuss as much with the staff as we wanted to. We were all a tad offended when the subject of not having enough money came up, and we were asked if we all had jobs. I have two jobs, one of the other guys on the panel has three, everyone else worked as well (and yes, I count being a full time student AND full time mother as working) so us not working isn't the reason why we don't have money for our classes.

The kicker though was when one of the students, Amy, brought up the overly expensive Food Court food, and how it was crap that a salad cost $5.95 but went up to $6.95 for adding stupid tomatoes. That got a standing ovation. And thus, lit where Chemeketa's priorities lie.

Heap big thanks to the people who both made the experience so much more fun, by distracting the audience from throwing their water bottles at me with their jokes.

To top it all off, I got a $25 gift certificate to the Amazingly Overpriced Bookstore as a gift. Now I can buy all one of the organizers and notebooks I haven't bought. Woohoo. Score for me.

Now, I'm off to clean my kitchen and wait for my lazy good-for-nothing lab partner lovely friend Vince to show up so we can go pretend (alright, so it's not pretend for me) to be snobby while ooooh-ing and aaah-ing over pieces of lopsided burnt clay in a gallery. Then, study, study, study so I can fail the Zoo Mid-Term on Monday!

Yay for Fridays!
So! I'm on my way to make a complete fool of myself in front of the entire staff of Chemeketa. Luckily, the teachers themselves won't be there, but everyone else will. It's only like 500 and some people. I mean, no big whoop right?


I'm sitting on a Student Forum Panel to answer some questions about what the staff can do to make Chemeketa a better experience for students. On one hand, I applaud them for taking the time to listen to what students have to say. On the other, more mangled hand, I feel like I'm being set up. What happens when I say Pipeline sucks, or that the Federal Aid Office could be a little more warm and fuzzy. Will my Pipeline reject my log in with a evil laugh, and will my Federal Aid Package suddenly evaporate into nothing?

Will they show up at my front door and kick me in the shin? These people, they have access. They know where I live. Heck, they know where my Mommy lives! Will the convienience store people spit in my tiny little cups of ranch? Even worse, will they stop giving me ranch all together? OH! The horror!

Maybe I'll give a fake name, and hide behind a shadow screen. Or I'll see if tech services can make my face all pixleated like they do on COPS. I mean, they're smart. They should be able to blur my face live and in real time, right? ....Right?


Oh, the first mid-term.
It is a commin' fast now,
I hope I do well.


I pulled weeds today. Because I wanted to, not because someone made me or because I was ordered to by the court or anything. I swear, I wasn't wearing an orange vest, you can't prove a thing.

While I was growing up, yardwork was something I despised. Not because I didn't like gardening itself, I love to garden and I think it's a shame that I have no place to put a garden, but because it was used as a punishment for all my naughty little childhood ways.

Not by my Mom, because she's fantastic, but by Crazy John, whom if you've been reading my blog for a while you know about. If you don't know about him, then all you need to really know is that he's Crazy. I mean, certifiable. If you pulled weeds, you had to separate the weeds into piles by type. Seriously, I kid you not. Even though they all went on the same burn pile. What sane person does that? I don't make enough Crazy John posts, I'll have to start doing that more. They entertain and baffle the masses so well.

Anyway, today was Campus Clean-Up. We weeded, raked, and mowed the courtyard in Building 50. It looks much better now, and we even got ice cream out of it. It makes me wish I had a garden space though, so I guess I'm going to convert the patio into a garden.

Anyone know anything about patio gardening?


Holy week, Batman!
Yes, fun starts early for me,
In my posh Batcave.


I had a Leadership conference today, but I'm not going because my mouth is really being a craphead. This is very bummerific, because I was very much looking forward to the conference. Even if I was going to have to miss classes so close to Mid-Terms. It, however, hurts to move my mouth at all let alone talk, which is most likely a good thing, in the end. So, I didn't go. I feel like a complete flake though, because I backed out at the last minute.

I swear I'm not a flake, I just feel like I am lately. I do too many things for too many people, and when I can't do something for someone I am pretty hard on myself, but that's a completely different post all together.

Instead of the LC I'm going to the only two classes I've got today, without whining, even. Aren't you proud? I'm also going to go into the SL&CS office and tell the Boss Lady that I'm not going to stay, and come home early. Hopefully by Sunday this will stop hurting, because I've got to go to the coast on Sunday for a meeting and I can't miss it.

Stupid mouth. I'd yank them all out myself if it wouldn't end up making me pass out, whomp my head on the sink, and die.


Oh, prettifying.
I want to get my hair done.
But what should I do?


Today is Project Page Turner. If you're on campus and can spare some time between 1:00 and 2:30 we're looking for volunteers to read "age appropriate" books to the 150-some-odd smelly little umpkins that we've got bussing over from a local Elementary school to be read to and have cookies and milk.

To make it even better, we've booked a clown.

See? I so knew that would win you over. I expect to see you all there!

I am running a bit of a fever today. I'm not sure what it's coming from. Perhaps the craziness of this week is just finally catching up to me. It could also be from the fact that my (un)wisdom teeth decided to all come back in at once.

By back I mean they come up and down (yeah yeah, not in the fun way, seriously though) every six to eight months or so. I'd have them pulled, but that's what they want. They're just waiting to be yanked out in shatters leaving bloody gaping holes in my head for cute little bacteria to make their cozy homes. They must think I'm stupid or something.

It's ok though. I've got lab (I'm not dissecting the frog! I'm not! The horror! The agony!), a staff meeting, Project Page Turner, another meeting, and then I get to go home early! I'll be home by like 3:30! Wowee!

I think I'll go back to bed.


I just want to sleep.
Cuddle with a nice sailor,
even that brat Fred.


I'm hitting you up for money. I'm giving you the warning now, so you can close the browser if you want. If you close the browser though, you'll make Baby Jesus cry. You don't want that do you? I didn't think so. Well, then, my good figments, read on.

I'll be walking six stinky evil miles on April 30th for March of Dimes WalkAmerica benefiting children who are born premature or with birth defects. I'll be walking with a local team here called Team Briana, it was formed in honor of a baby named Briana who was born at 27 weeks, and weighed only a pound. For those of you who don't know, a normal pregnancy is actually 36 weeks. She was a wee bit early, was Briana.

Along with myself, I will be walking with the entire Student Leadership & Community Service Team. As a whole, we haven't picked a total amount of donations we want to reach. As a real life honest-to-goodness person, I am shooting for $50.00 because it's doable.

If you'd like to sponsor to my walk, so that I don't look really stupid walking for no sponsors, you can do so by following this link or going to http://www.walkamerica.org/skyte and signing up to sponsor. You can even walk, if you really want to.

Any amount at all would be a fantastic help, and you'll have good Karma to boot. Everybody needs good Karma. Especially you. Kidding.


The week is half gone.
How fast it goes flying by!
Woosh, and there it goes.


Dude, I won.

I'm Ms. Vice President. Ms. Vice President of the Phi Theta Kappa (It's an honor society by the way, not a sorority. So don't come to meetings thinking there will be topless drunk girls) chapter Alpha Kappa Oatmeal Omicron (say that sucker three times fast). Seriously. By a unanimous vote, even. Holy crap! These people are crazy. Crazy I say. They elected me!

I'm so so so so so excited!! I even did a dance and made up a song and everything! Yay me! YAY! YAYAYAYAY! Yay! I've called up everyone I know who knew I was running and squealed in their ear. They're all deaf now, but that's ok, because I'm the Vice President.
Alpha Kappa Omicron elections are tonight. Because I don't have nearly enough amusing and embarrassing anecdotes about myself to tell you all about, I've decided to run for an office. What office, you ask? Well, since Presidency is entirely too intimidating for the likes of me, I'm going to shoot for Vice President. You know, so everything that goes wrong can be blamed on yours truly. Not that it isn't already. That isn't the point though.

Failing that, I might see if I can nap a Cabinet seat. You never know right?

Anyway, be good little figments and wish me buckets of luck. I'll let you know how badly I lost when I come back.


Are you a member?
Get your butt to campus and
Vote for me dangit.


I just got back from a very fun dinner party at a friend of mines in honor of her new house. It was a small little get together, but it was really enjoyable. Especially since I got to hang out with a couple of friends from school, and meet some new people. I like meeting new people, even if I never talk.

The subject was brought up of having a poker night. It is being seriously considered. Gambling is so much more fun then homework. As long as I don't have to bet anything over a penny, I'm so in. High stakes isn't for me. I'm just a poor, sad little college girl who has to eat dry noodles because she can't afford the water to cook them in.

Oh, the Planetarium show was spiffy. I highly encourage anyone in the area to go check it out. The same show plays next Friday, and then they're switching shows to a new one about Lewis & Clark using the stars to navigate, or some such. Good stuff, go see it.


Caffeine is my friend.
How I enjoy the bubbles,
And the buzzyness.


To answer a few questions about Spencer, the amazing Fishy and my bathroom:

Q) How is your fish?
A) He's fine thanks! He's made a nice bubble nest and everything.

Q) What kind of fish is he?
A) He's a Betta Splendens, or Siamese Fighting Fish. I prefer just plain Betta to the fighting fish one, it's less angry. Holy crap, I italicized that, and didn't even realize it. Professor O'Hara would be so proud! You can learn about them here, if you want to.

Q) Is Kero (my frog) jealous?
A) Spencer is on my desk, Kero is in my room. So, nope, plus, all Kero cares about is crickets, because he's a pig in a frog costume.

Q) Why isn't your bathroom in frogs?
A) I couldn't find a matching frog type set that I liked. I collect frogs with a passion that borders on madness, but it doesn't mean I don't have taste.

Q) What's wrong with you?
A) Nothing. What's wrong with you? Jeesh. Some people.
There is a show at the Planetarium on campus tonight, anyone want to go with me? Everyone I've asked is either busy or said they could and then couldn't, and I don't want to go alone. It's my whole doing things alone thing. I don't get it either.

It should be cool though, according to the colleges website:

"A Planetarium presentation titled Hubble Vision II has been held over for the next three Friday nights (April 1 and April 8, at 7:30 p.m.), as public interest has been more than what could be accommodated during winter term showings.

The Hubble Space Telescope has "given new eyes to astronomers," said Planetarium coordinator Tom McDonough. He noted that the powerful telescope can image planets, stars and galaxies like no other telescope.

"This device alone has answered fundamental questions about the nature and origin of the universe," he continued. "Join us as we celebrate the accomplishments of this most extraordinary optical instrument."

As a part of the presentation, theater-goers will spend time looking at the night sky of these winter months."

Is that cool or what? I'm seriously excited. I've never been to the Planetarium before either, and it's sad, because my office is five yards away from it. I probably walk past it two or three dozen times a day. It's always been one of those things I've meant to do but just never have, which is a bad habit to get into.

Tickets start selling at 7, and they don't let people in after show time, so if you want to go, give me a call. Whee! Stars!


It is Friday, yay!
The weekend is glorious,
But over too soon.


I'm pretty much living on campus again this term, so pardon the no posting. It's alright though because I enjoy all my classes and am still completely enamored with my job.

I, have the coolest boss ever. Today was her birthday so we decorated her office and our meeting room and threw her a little party during our meeting. She brought each of us our own cake! Mine is blue and has sunflowers. I don't think I'll eat it all because I'm not a huge cake fan, plus, it's pretty but not pretty enough to wear on my hips, but it was so fantastically sweet of her. If you want a piece, come on over, I've got ice cream too.

There is a group on campus called Students for Life who have taken over an entire display case to voice their opinions on how abortion is evil. They can have that opinion, that is fantastic for them, but what sort of bothers me is their continuing need to tell people that condoms don't work, are a sin, and don't protect against disease.
It's just really wrong.

I've been thinking of trying to figure out ways to sort of put out some information that is more factual then this, but I've not really settled on an idea that works best. Any ideas? I can't do anything under the umbrella of Student Leadership because we're supposed to be non-biased, but I can do something as an individual as long as I don't connect it with the office.

It just really frustrates and worries me that people are spreading such dangerous misinformation, and that some students are actually buying it.


My cute potty room.
The guys say it is scary,
But they all use it.


As promised, the pictures of my fantastical bathroom and my new fishy friend Spencer. Yeah, I know you were waiting with baited breath.


The bathroom:

The bathroom again:

The mirror and sink:

Matching handtowels, I don't kid with this stuff:

Cute soap dish:

The potty!:


Duckies in my shower, there is a matching bathmat in the shower too:

Cute hu? All that is left is putting up the wallpaper (any volunteers?) and putting up the shower curtain. I really don't like glass doors, so I'm covering them with a pretty curtain. Yes, it has ducks on it. I'm going to get a nice wooden rod to put across the little alcove where the shower is, and drape it up high, and then just pull it back when the shower is being used.

I'm also framing this picture and putting it in my bathroom, and getting a set of cute wooden shelves to keep my rubber ducky collection on. Then my obsessive-compulsive masterpeice will be complete!

Here is one of Spencer, no his inside of the bowl isn't that dirty, the outside is just smudgy. It's an older bowl and I couldn't get the stuff off the outside, I need to get some bowl cleaner.

Spiffy, yeah? Yeah. I thought so too.
Just to prove to all you disbelievers out there that I too can be productive. I got off my extremely slacking tushy and did something amazing. Yeah, you heard right, I did something. What did I do, you ask?

Why, I redecorated my bathroom.

Yep. I redecorated my bathroom. I redecorated it in splendor. Matching splendor. Yes, it matches. Oh yes, it does, it does. Everything from the wallpaper (yes, I got wallpaper, but I haven't hung it yet, because I need help...no, not that kind of help, the second pair of hands kind) to the rugs to the towels. It's a tasty treat for the eyes. And what, are you asking, did I do my bathroom in? Here's the fantastic part:

I did it in duckies.

Yeah! Duckies! Let's hear it for duckies! The rubber kind that squeak. Not to be confused with the chicken kind with pulleys. My bathroom is a parade of yellow, orange, white and blue. Why blue? Because the duckies are in the bath, that's why. They're adorable. I got rugs, towels, vinyl sticky things to decorate the walls of the shower, toothbrush holder, shower curtain, curtain hooks, toilet seat cover, everything. I even got a matching toilet brush holder. Ummhm.

Now, I know you're thinking it's probably garish, and I could understand that line of thought. But let me assure you it's bona fide double-C cute. Seriously, I'll take pictures so you can see as soon as the person who stole the digi cam gives it back. Granted no sane straight male will ever set foot in my bathroom willingly, but I can live with that. Love me, love my duckies. It's my new motto.

Actually, I'm really proud of it, I've never decorated an entire room before in one fell swoop. I've always collected pieces over years and years, and man, it was fun. I think I may have to do it again. I think the kitchen is next. What sounds good for the kitchen?
I bought a new friend! No, not because nobody loves me and the only way I can actually get friends is to pay them off. He's not a person, he's a fish. Don't be mean.

His name is Spencer and he lives in Herbies old bowl. Herbie, for those of you not in the know, was my very first Beta. He lived for three years (which is quite old for a Beta) and died a sad and tragic death at the claws of my cat Ewok. I've had extensive counseling over it, and I've finally managed to reach a plateau in my healing where I can have fish again.

He's wicked pretty. I'll have to take a picture for you. He's purple and blue and red, and the fact that he matches the gravel, stones and plants in his bowl are purely a coincidence and have nothing to do with the fact that I'm a girl, and have a genetic need for everything to match or I wet myself. Honest.

He's living on my desk, and seems really happy so far. I'll take pictures in a bit. Yay! I bought a plant too, it's starting to feel more and more like a real house every day. I just need to finish unpacking my boxes and I'll be all set.
I have a professor that is very (very, very) fond of being verbose. In fact, she is so long-winded that she writes everything she says word for word on the board. Her syllabus was nearly fifteen pages long. I swear, she even writes "um" on the board. Not that it's a bad thing, really. She's very polite, flexible and has a good sense of humor. I appreciate these things in a teacher.

I haven't had an English class on campus before, hers is my first. I've taken all the writing classes I need, and stuck with the same professor each time because he was cool, and I was accustomed to his teaching and grading style.

In my writing classes we had reading responses, and since this is a fiction class, we have them in this one too, but I don't know how she wants them. This makes me nervous, because all teachers want different things when they say "Reading Response". It never actually means "Respond to the reading in the way it makes you respond" it usually means "Write your paper just like this and if you deviate from it I'll flunk you, sucka". At least, that's how it's always felt to me.

Now, my writing Prof was pretty cool about it. As long as it was at least a page long he didn't care how you responded. If the reading brought up a tangent, and you went on and on about something not even remotely related, he didn't really care. He did care if you went over one page, however. Oh yes, he did. Trust me, I usually heard about keeping it down to one page in every class. Usually six or twelve times. Sometimes in a row. With disappointed finger shaking. I also have a tendency to be verbose, if you haven't noticed.

I wrote my first reading response today, and the first paper in any class always makes me nervous. Even with professors I've had three or four terms with, I get all wary. Sometimes up and change their mind over summer, sometimes they change their mind for no reason, or sometimes they just get taken over by Pod People. How's a girl supposed to keep up with that stuff, anyway?


Today is Sunday.
Rainy and wet again, yeah.
But I do love it.