Hell. And not the fun kind.

While all of my friends at Ross are enjoying their three day Mid-Semester Break following their respective Hell Weeks, I am entering the fourth and most hellacious week of my Hell Month.

Short version for those who have not had the pleasure of listening to me whining complaining explaining neutrally and unbiasedly SMU's way of masochistically torturing us providing us with a efficient learning environment for Physiology 1.

Yes, I realize I've taken this course once before. No need to remind me of that Ron dad everyone.

Here's a short side-by-side comparison of Physio 1 at Ross vs. SMU.

Now, I realize that we just haven't found a full-time professor yet, and so the students will just have to be flexible (I'm really starting to hate that word) until that time comes. And I honestly think that Dr. Roy is a really good prof, he really does genuinely care about us, however he just isn't the right guy to be teaching this material in an expedited format. It almost upsets me more to have him teaching us now, because I can see very clearly that I am missing out on some very important material simply due to the fact that we're cramming 4 weeks of material into 4 days.

So to conclude, I'm sorry I've been rather taciturn on this blog lately, but we had a pretty major phys test last Friday (covered Cardio, Muscle, Senses, and a little Intravascular phys), we have an anatomy exam on Monday that everyone is playing catch up for due to phys (covers pelvic limb, abdomen, and male/female repro), Tuesday we have a makeup ORAL exam for phys to try and replace our grade from two weeks ago (the test that covered Neuro Phys, pretty much the entire class failed it so he's giving us a chance to replace that test grade...did I mention how much I hate ORAL tests?), and this Friday we have our last phys test (covers the rest of Intravascular, Renal, and Respiratory).

Basically I've been having a month-long panic attack.

Whoo-hoo.

It doesn't matter if it was hard or easy....it was the LEAST stressful exam I've ever taken and I'm pretty sure I just played a game of Bingo.

Today brought with it our first Physio exam. Our professor is from South Africa, and apparently they do things a bit differently there....

Multiple choice questions (or MCQs as he says) are written the same way, with 5 options listed under the question. In his version, however, there are possibly 1 to 4 correct answers for each question. Instead of circling one answer, you enter the appropriate letters for each correct answer in squares at the bottom of the question. When grading the prof will put a slash across the boxes marking off the appropriate amount of boxes for how many correct answers are there.
(okay, I realize you might need a degree in quantum physics to understand that last paragraph, so I've created visual aids:)

No peeking....answer first!

Oh c'mon, I totally got a useful undergrad degree!

The green line is indicative that there are three correct answers in the question. Basically that's three options for partial points in one question. The last two options are disregarded completely.

(as opposed to one out of five being right and losing all points if you guess wrong.)

Alright, so hopefully you guys get the picture. Basically our exam was like playing Bingo.

(yes dad, it went alright.)

Friday night we caught the free buffet dinner at Triple Crown Pub (um, yeah. we're students.) and then headed out for cocktails. We started what will be our new Friday evening routine: cocktails at Sunset House at sunset. It's a relatively nice resorty place located on the water just past Georgetown from Seven Mile Beach. There isn't really a beach there, per se, but the restaurant/bar is this huge deck overlooking the ocean where you can catch great sunset views (assuming the clouds aren't out).

Kip started out the evening right by pretty much demanding (in his very charming and goofy way) a fruity drink complete with a little umbrella and a pineapple wedge. Our waitress took it all like a pro, letting him down by telling him they had no umbrellas or pineapple. Then she came back with this:

Complete with umbrella and pineapple mango....seems she was telling the truth about the pineapple.

This was the first in many blatant 'signs' that this chick dropped on a completely oblivious Kip. I'm pretty sure she could have slapped his ass and called him Sally and he still wouldn't have a clue. It's actually pretty cute.

Warning: Do not allow your children to climb on any of the sea walls.



I had my first Liquid Cocaine shot, which was pretty awesome.
Then I had my second and third.



Kip made the mistake of telling Hottie Waitress to surprise him. We all thought this was a BlowJob shot from the outward appearance. That is, until Kip started fishing clumpy stuff out of it...something called a Cement Mixer? (Bailey's and lime juice)

Some other blatant signs completely lost on Kip:

*During a round of Liquid Cocaine's for the table, she served him a shot of whiskey in secret:[Scene: everyone throws back their shot]
Kip: Whew! I don't know what ya'll were drinking, but that was whiskey.
Us: Noooo. It's a liquid cocaine. Tastes like cinnamon.
Kip: Nope, I'm pretty sure that was whiskey. Not cinnamon.
Us: You're crazy. [Saskia takes a whiff from empty shot glass, crinkles nose] Oh.....Yeah.

*"That mango is my personal mango given to me by one of my coworkers."

*"Do you want to eat the rest of my mango later?"

The after party landed at our apartment, where we had the bright idea to mix Absinthe and Fireworks.

(sorry Mommy and Daddy, but you did tell me not to be the mom.......)

Opening the fireworks we bought at the bookstore, we found this awesome Warning:

Hee hee.....flaming balls.

Kip lighting the fuse.....

Pretty sparklers......

Awesome. And freaking LOUD.

My 'coy' look.

We had some fun playing with camera angles....this was the best of the group.

I gots 'tude.

Later we got bored with the apartment and wandered down the street to the neighborhood park. This was a pretty good representation of why you don't drive drunk.

My boys pulling a Reservoir Dogs style exit.

All in all another fabulous evening with good friends that did not end in flames.

If brother and sister iguanas get busy, the eggs produced are infertile. How do we make humans like that?

Saturday we visited the botanical gardens where the Blue Iguana Sanctuary is located. Some background on the facility/animal can be found here. Basically Blue Iguanas are native to only Grand Cayman (Cyclura lewesi), and they are a morph of another iguana from the Cyclura genus found on Cuba. They are the longest living iguanas, oldest being 69 years old. They used to be plentiful on Grand Cayman until people began to develop the island for human use. Basically we destroyed their habitats and introduced various predatorial species that they could not protect themselves from. They are not good climbers (unlike the Green Iguanas), are creatures of habit (will live in the same one or two trees), and tend to stand still when confronted by a potential threat (versus the Green Iguanas who run at the first sign of Stranger Danger). Between the humans, dogs, cats, snakes, red ants, and rats the population was decimated to about 15 in 2003.
Recovery efforts have increased the population enough to get it off the critically endangered list, but it is still considered an endangered species. The program at the sanctuary is designed to assist these lizards in reproducing successfully and eventually being released into the wild. They have breeding pens that are designed to give the female an acceptable habitat for laying her eggs, and then the caretakers will dig the eggs up and keep them in an incubator until they hatch (about 10 weeks). They have to dig them up because A) fire ants will attack the eggs and B) rats will dig them up and eat them. Without the caretaker's help, maybe 1 or 2 of the ten-twelve eggs will successfully hatch and make it to the surface. With their help, usually all of the eggs survive and move on to be released when they reach a good size.

Once hatched, the babies are moved into the "Head Start" program where they are reared until about a year and a half to two years. When they reach a certain weight and health status, and vet will deem them acceptable for release. This is where the hard part comes in...these guys are really territorial so the caretaker's maintain a chart of where each lizard lives and they try to make sure no close family members live near each other. If close family members (mom/son, brother/sister, etc.) mate, they will produce infertile eggs which is counteractive to the mission. Since the lizards really only produce eggs once a year, it's imperative that they produce healthy, viable eggs each clutch. (how do you like that use of vet speak, Kip?)

Oh, and we learned that Blue Iguanas taste like kerosene and Green Iguanas taste like chicken. Supposedly. That might also be rumor the warden guy was spreading to encourage those desperate enough for food to eat the greens over the blues…

Okay, enough blah blah blah. Onto the pics:

Our guide was a former chef. He used a lot of technical terms like "tastes like kerosene" and "toxitity" and "knocked up".

This was a nest that was currently inhabited by a momma laying eggs. When she finishes she will cover the hole completely masking its location and (hopefully) preventing predators from finding the eggs. Once she's done the babies are on their own.

These are the first step in the Head Start program. Under 1 year olds stay here.

Little Baby

They grow so fast!

And the showdown begins....



Mad Max was freaking awesome. Especially when charging chicks with red toenail polish.

Showing his trademark black feet and spineless dewlap.

Stripeless tail as well. Good lookin boy!

I don't remember this one's name. But I do remember something about him having too small of a penis to properly copulate.

That's gotta suck.




This is an overview of the breeding area. Each iguana has his/her own square, and during breeding season they open the gate between so they can get "knocked up".

Check out his little teeth....just don't underestimate them! Robert Muldoon was telling us he had both of his thumbs broken by the same freaking iguana in the same freaking week.

That iguana also broke his foot and his manhood.

True Story.

I love those spines.

This one takes me back to the days of velociraptors and T-Rex.

A few years ago a pair of wild dogs killed two of the iguanas in the park. This was one of the epitaphs posted above the graves for the lizards. I'm pretty sure the other iguanas leave flowers and candles on the site every year as a memorial. I could still see some wax.

After the tour of the breeding facility Mr. Muldoon took us on a little hike through the rest of the park so we could see some of the animals in the wild. I'm pretty sure I heard a goat bleating in the woods.

This is a dig site for eggs. The mom was sitting just to the side of the hole glaring at the workers. Good thing they work in groups; if there was only one she would have tripped the guy and eaten his eyeballs.

In Progress.

The days are passing swiftly as I prepare for yet again another immigration nightmare. Had my blood drawn Friday (not fun) for the typical round of STD tests (what is it with tropical islands and sexually transmitted diseases?!). Have to get a chest x-ray done next week (let's cross our fingers that I'm TB-Free!) and then submit all of my medical stuff for my visa.

I also have some fun coordination to do for bringing my kitty with me. Thankfully all of her titers and vaccinations were done already, but the Caymans have such a weird permit system it's driving me nuts! I have to apply to receive a permit that will then entitle me to apply for importation of my pet. Basically, I apply twice. And knowing bureaucracies, probably pay twice.

Having been on this ride once before, packing will be a breeze. Especially with my aforementioned uniforms.

Dad and I will be visiting the island early (April 6 - 9) in an attempt to get all of my ducks in a row before the Big Move. Really, I think this is just a much-needed Mini-Break for pops, but I'll tag along (hello? Seven Mile Beach anyone?). Hopefully while we are there we will find me a fabulous apartment that is way underpriced and a nice place to store some stuff (like books, super heavy). I'm also looking forward to meeting some of the students whom I've spoken to on the phone, everyone has been super nice. And it's comforting to know (also sad, but definitely comforting) that I am most certainly not the only person with a Rossie past. In fact, I'm starting to wonder if the population at St. Matt's isn't close to 50% Ross Cast-Offs. Which is alright by me, hopefully I won't stick out too much that way.

Did I mention the adorable rain boots I got today? They are fuchsia and brown plaid, totally comfortable and ready for some messy formalin in anat lab. Course, they totally clash with my bright red coveralls, so there might be a future purchase from Dickie's in order...

In other news: the pollen count here has reach seventy bagillion and our cars have officially become permanently yellow tinted. Awesome. I have never wished for rain so badly.

Seas of Change.

It's funny, for days now my dogs have been staring at me in some sort of anticipation. As if they expect me to do something. Cute.

Anywho, it's official: I am heading off once again for school (see newly updated blog description just under title of blog). We make mistakes, we learn from them. This time will be different.

The situation is similar; I will be going off to vet school, living on an island, etc. This time the school is St. Matthew's University and the island is Grand Cayman. Class sizes are significantly smaller, the island is significantly pricier, the beaches are pristine and the diving is divine. Oh, and did I mention the uniforms? At least I look good in red.

I plan to keep up with the blog, considering I'm just as likely to loose my mind on this adventure as I was on the last. But I will be leaving the needles & yarn at home (I promise Sugar Bear) and will be bringing with me a renewed sense of determination. On the plus side, I might find an apartment in Hell.

Haven't Packed Yet.

Yeah, it's 1:30AM. And I haven't packed. Probably because I have a real sense of doom for grades and feel like I should be packing heavy.

As an alternative to packing, I am bringing you these fantastic pics of Dr. Danny in his new hat! (thanks Kristin)

I'll be home in less than 24 hours, for good or for bad. I fully expect an order of Bang Bang shrimp and a gin & tonic to be awaiting me (someone notify Bonefish Grill for me please).

Toodles!

Completed scarf

Wrapped up in my donkey reproduction notes

I think the green suits him.

We'll miss you Dr. Danny!



Random pic of Kristilee and I at the port after our last final.

Awesome full moon tonight

I think the goats like the full moon...

Internetus exploricus.

I've never had a case of Internetus exploricus this bad.
Its weird. Like I can't even control my mouse. It just moves on its own down to the Internet Explorer button every few minutes.

I equate this syndrome as sort of like opening the fridge door when you're bored and just standing there. I don't even use the opened window most of the time. I just stare at the Google home page briefly wondering where I can go that doesn't involve [insert course name here] and then close it.

This is obviously an avoidance mechanism. That I obviously cannot break away from.

Anyone know the cure?

Day Three: I Had To Pee.

There I was, sitting in my physio exam having a mild heart attack as I filled in the last few bubbles, when my body decides to compensate for my hypertensive state by sending out the signal to pee. (signal induced by what physio graduates all?)

[Yes mom, I'm talking about having to pee on my public blog. I'm sure you are sitting in front of the computer aghast. Readers: please note my mother taught me better than this. I'm just a stubborn little girl and don't listen.]

Anyhow, I tried desperately to fight the need to hit the bathroom as fast as I could in exchange for just a few more moments to review my exam answers. Unfortunately, I only got to #3 before the urge was just too great and I could literally feel the bruising in my bladder.

Turns out my renal urges were the best thing that could happen, since in those three questions I changed one of them to another answer and ended up missing that question even though my original answer was correct. Who knows how many more answers I would have missed by doubting myself if I hadn't had a case of The Exploding Bladder?

This is a syndrome I am well acquainted with...called Doubtacoccus retardus. I cannot tell you how many professors (and my father) have told me to go with my first instinct. It's all good and well to hear that over and over, but really when you're hopped up on stimulants and haven't really had your head on straight for days its not so easy to follow that advice. Logic and reason go out the window when Dr. Reich comes in the room.

I have this screensaver that slide-shows a bunch of quotes that I downloaded, and this one sums it all up:

It was like Joanne was sitting there with me channeling her thoughts into my computer...creepy.

In the last few days it seems every time I looked up at my computer that quote was flashing across the screen. So much so that the very first thing I did when I got my exam this afternoon was to write that quote across the top. Just a gentle reminder to myself that all of the answers were there, I just had to find them.

Whether I did that successfully, however, is anyone's guess. But its done, only one more to go. And that one is covering all of the things I love and adore (immune systems and vaccines and hypersensitivities Oh My!).

As Anna said to me earlier this evening, I've gotten off the Stress Train (she took my seat, mind you) and am now standing on the platform at Delusion Depot. Waiting for tomorrow afternoon to come so I can break open my extra large bottle of Grolsch in the fridge. You know the kind...with that snazzy flip stoppered top thingie. Oh yeah.

[Sorry again mom, this time for publically talking about being excited for drinking.]

Less than 17 hours.

Day Two: I Smell Like Poo.

Yes. I said I Smell like Poo. Or at least feel like it.

Day Two of The Worst Week of My Life is over. I'm pretty sure I got a B+ or higher on my parasit final. Which should make me ecstatic. I should be over-the-moon and all that jazz. And I would be...if the next two days of my life weren't going to determine My Entire Life's Direction.

That's some Major Pressure.

It's really hit me tonight. I could seriously lose my place here. I could seriously lose all I've worked towards for the last four years. I can't stop thinking about it, can't stop worrying. I realize that this is detrimental to performance in high stress situations, and I will probably fret for the next thirty minutes before channeling that energy into making sure I rock these F-ing exams.

But for now: ohmygodimightfailoutofvetschoolpleasemakeitstopican'ttakeitanymoremylifesucksi'mprettysuretherewillbemassiveamountsofpeoplelosingtheirmindsinthenexttwodaysi'mnottheonlyonewhereisthewinewho
needsaglassjustgivemethebottle.

Phew.

Alright. I am prepared. I have been preparing for this for four years. I have all of the answers. They are all there. I just have to focus, have to BE the exam, have to BE the answers. I can do this. After all, I've been through worse, right? Anyone remember Organic Chemistry? I mean at least Physio is in English.

Immuno isn't, but whatev. That's just memorization. Lots and lots (and lots and lots) of memorization.

Okay. Back to work. To all at home: I will see you in T minus 4 days, pretty much to the hour. Lynn: I'm looking forward to getting absolutely snookered with you Saturday night. Be forewarned: I plan on drinking on the plane.

Day One: Oh So Fun.

Test 1 of Finals Week:

(can I just interject here and say how sad I am that when you Google Image search "check mark" ALL of the images you find are RIGHT-HANDED check marks? I mean c'mon!

There are loads of Lefties out there....represent!)

Today was my first Final Exam for The Dreaded Second Semester. I am now completely finished with smelling like formalin (at least until we get my grades back...but we're working on that positivity thing right now so roll with it, okay?). Next up, Parasitology. So for this evening's post I shall share with you my favorite parasite of the semester:

Heomonchus contortus

Superfamily: Trichostrongyloidea
Common name: Barber pole worm
Appearance of the ADULTS:

Present in abomasum

2 – 3 cm

White ovaries spiraled around blood-filled intestine - hence "barber pole" apperance

Males:

Asymmetrical dorsal lobe

Barbed spicules

Cervical papillae

Lancet inside the buccal capsule

Females:

Cervical papillae

Lancet inside the buccal capsule

Appearance of the EGGS:

Typical trichostongyloid

85 µm

Thin shelled

Shell surface smooth

Contain a morula

Life cycle is DIRECT with infection by L3.

This parasite undergoes HYPOBIOSIS - L4 encyst on gut wall and overwinter

Site of infection: Abomasum

Pathogenesis/lesions:

Acute hemorrhagic anemia

ACUTE haemonchosis:

Anemia – 2 weeks

Decrease in packed red cell volume

Continual loss of iron and protein

Hemorrhagic lesions on abomasums

Contents are dark brown

Pale/edematuous carcass

Hemorrhagic gastritis (hyperacute haemonchosis) leads to sudden death

CHRONIC haemonchosis - typically due to a deficient pasture:

Weight loss

Weakness/inappetence

What are some clinical signs? Hyperacute:

Lambs die from hemorrhagic gastritis

Anemia

Bottle jaw

Ascites

Lethargy

Dark colored feces

Loss of wool

Diarrhea NOT typically seen

PPR occurs with this parasite.

How is this parasite diagnosed?

Season

History

Clinical signs

Fecal worm egg counts

Trichostongyloid L3

Necropsy

How is this parasite treated/prevented?

Selective chemotherapy

Major resistance to all anthelmintics

FAMCHA

What is FAMACHA? (KNOW THIS and ASSOCIATE W/ THIS PARASITE!!)

Ocular mucous membrane chart

Determine level of anemia and thus appropriateness for treatment

*****THIS PARASITE IS RESISTANT TO ALL TYPES OF ANTHELMINTICS*****

Whew! All of that for just one of 42 bagillion parasites we're expected to know for our final! Guess I should get back to work. Night kids!

(oh...and in case you were curious it's my fave because A) the name is super fun to say and B) spiral ovaries? that's freakin cool.)

Today we salute you Mr. Stressed Out Vet Student.

Hee hee. One of my classmates posted this on Facebook and I just had to share with those of you back home. Quite cute....but more so scarily true.

From Meg:

Today we salute you Mr. Stressed Out Vet Student during finals week. As you sit in your lonely cubicle in the library, doped up on Red Bull and adderall, you think to yourself, will I ever really to need to know this stuff in real life? The distractions are tempting and you have just diagnosed yourself with ADD, advanced delusional schizophrenia ... read more and involuntary narcissistic rage. By now you know exactly what everyone else is doing because you have checked your Facebook 800 times. Break is just days away, and your Prozac prescription will be in tomorrow. So crack open an ice cold Carib you Academic Warrior, because you’ll be spending break in Rehab.

I am officially sequestered in the 24-hour reading room for the next seventy bagillion hours.

Finished the last of my classes for The Dreaded Second Semester as of about an hour ago. Grabbed a table in the Quiet Reading Room, have my many various snacks, caffeine, and water....between now and Thursday night at 4 PM I am incommunicado except by email. Which I will check frequently. And I'll update the blog. Probably frequently as well. Since I'm pretty sure I have ADD.

I am feeling a little better about this semester than perhaps just a few weeks ago. Sort of like that half-empty glass didn't sprout a leak after all, and in fact instead has a leaky faucet above it. Each little mini-victory in the Study Struggle is a little droplet more. Hey, I might even move on to third semester. It's just going to take forfeiting the next, oh say 8,580 minutes of my life.

But what's a Life Goal worth without a little Sacrifice?

Make that 8,574 minutes. Took me 6 minutes longer to write this entry than I originally calculated.

The Key.

I had it in my hand.

Literally. Or so I thought.

There I was, standing at question 15, casually minding my own business answering one of seventy bagillion questions on our anatomy lab exam, when my gaze fell upon some papers sitting on the windowsill. Papers with red writing. Papers that looked remarkably like my test form. Red writing that looked remarkably like my professor's.

The page was obscured by a sheet above it that documented what specimens should be laid out for the exam. Our exam. The one we were taking.

I might not be able to summon up the names of the muscles innervated by the Left Recurrent Laryngeal Nerve (duh, totally answered that after the exam with no problem) or the proper term used to describe that auditory cavity thingie in the half head specimen (seriously?)....but I can put 2 and 2 together and folks, this time they equal Exam Key. Sitting on the windowsill. Plain as day.

What's a girl to do?

I will admit, I probably spent at least one minute of my precious 120 minutes allotted for the exam (which in reality should be more like 500 minutes, but whatev) debating my next move. Do I gently shove the top sheet over and make sure that I get at least some of the questions on this exam correct? Do I leave it there and move on like I saw nothing? Do I turn it in to the profs, wasting another minute or two of my precious time?

Kinda climactic, isn't it? Sort of like a Choose Your Own Adventure book (God I loved those).

In the end, I turned to page 52 and turned in the sheets. Without even a tiny peek. What can I say? I want to earn my own grades, even if they aren't fantastic. Or even passing.

Course, this story would have been a lot better if I hadn't been told by Dr. Moffatt later that it ended up not being the key but actually just a list of specimens to be laid out for Dr. Berg's section (he hand wrote them vs. typing like the rest of the profs). Maybe I should just keep that little tidbit to myself. Course, she reads my blog so all of the points I might have won for being honest with what I thought was the key will be lost with lying.... ;)

Random Large Pink Bull's Penis.

Catchy title, huh?

Tonight was a madhouse in the anat lab. They have us put out all of the specimens that will be used on the exam the evening before so we can work off of them (and also help arrange things, manual labor I believe it is called). And what do our wandering eyes behold?

A random large pink bull's penis lying on one of the exam tables. With a matching pair of pink testicles.

Did I say pink? As in MAGENTA? Yes.

Apperantly someone in a previous semester wrapped one of the reproduction speciments with a burgundy towel.

Unwashed burgundy towel + tupperware with formalin = all specimens within dyed MAGENTA.

I would have promptly taken pictures for all of you to enjoy, however I'm pretty sure that would get me kicked out of school, or at the very least slapped on the hand pretty hard. So you'll just have to live with the terrible version I made for you in...yup, you guessed it: Microsoft Paint.

Okay...so this is actually a pic of a fossilized walrus penis that I painted pink. But you get the drift.

This is about as exact I can get you without actually photographing the Real Deal. Mind you, it would have been a whole lot funnier if I had actually been able to get a shot with Cristin holding it...she was quite befuddled by the entire experience.

Good night my friends, I am back to the Land of Dead Carcasses until 8AM tomorrow during which I will hopefully (fingers and toes crossed) be taking my very last anatomy lab exam ever. And after that....blissful naptime. Cannot wait.

Double Rainbow.

Okay. So first our new mouse. And then a Double Rainbow. Spanning over the entire freaking island. The first thing I saw after leaving my first exam of the semester. This is turning out to be an interesting Final Exam Week.

All I can really say about the rainbow is that the colors were more vivid than anything I've ever seen in nature (perhaps a slight exaggeration, but where would we be in life without a few exaggerations?) and the sheer size of it was amazing - truly like nothing I've ever seen before. Sometimes I've been lucky enough to catch the start and end of one. But nothing like this.

And then to top it off - a Double Rainbow? Do those even exist in the Real World?

Those are rain drops on my lens...

You can just make out the second rainbow just to the left of the bright one. No, it's not a double exposure. It was really there. I swear.

And no, I was not drinking.

The building this is spanning over is the Ross Library. Conveniently the location of our exam. Coincidence?

That last one is my Ghetto version of a panoramic shot, courtesy of crappy Windows Paint (since I never found my copy of Photoshop that somehow mysteriously disappeared).

And I Shall Name Him George.

I promised myself I wouldn't allow my mind to migrate back to the internet for the rest of the evening, as the quality of my posts dramatically decreases in proportion to how bored I have become with whatever subject I am studying.

BUT.

I came home tonight, about a half hour ago, and thought...let's make a little evening snack of healthy pasta. And I'm standing there at the stove, minding my own business watching the water boil (as an alternative to parasit that is a treat!) when out of the corner of my eye what flies by? A cute, adorable, pestilence-filled MOUSE.

Now, I've never lived anywhere with mice. Well, correction. I've never lived anywhere with mice that make themselves known. This little guy came flying out of the living room and scurried under the fridge as if he owned the place. I really have no problem with the little guy, even started chatting with him (named him George if you must know). Wouldn't you know as my water starts to boil he bee-lines it right under the stove? So of course, I admonish him for being so brutally stupid as to run under a gas stove that is in use when he starts squeaking back at me! And by squeaking I mean the cutest damn noises you have ever heard! I didn't even have to squeeze him first. I'd say it rivaled listening to a litter of newborn kittens screaming for mom.

Back to George. I am going on the assumption that since those squeaks were obviously ones of delight and happiness at meeting me (and not burning hot torture), our new friend Little George is going to hang out in our place for a little while. I seriously debated leaving the little tyke a snicky snack, but thought better of it since snacks have a tendency to attract other creatures of a not-so-beloved kind.

Good night, I am off to study more parasites. And listen out for my new buddy.

He must be Speedy's Caribbean cousin....