The Jizz of an Ephemeral Unicellular Yeast

I got booted from my last lab group and am now upgraded to Table 1. I converse with my old friends every once in awhile when I turn around and they look lost and frightened without my guidance. There are only 2 slackers left of what my group used to be and now they stand alone in the wasteland of overwhelming biology knowledge while I stand on the peak of it all and laugh monstriously.

We are doing experiments with yeast now. One of my new lab group peers thought we should see what happens to the yeast when we take their favorable food source, glucose, and replace it with 20% Yoohoo. Alas they are doing fine... not as fine as our control group of yeast though. Bad thing is - the two yeast cultures are placed right next to eachother, so while the Yoohoo yeast is looking at the better culture, they are also crying in their booties.

I gave blood today and I wasn't rejected. I have been rejected twice so far because of low iron. Last time it was a 32. Today it was a miraculous 41 and I haven't even taken vitamins for the past week. The only reason I gave blood is because they had this huge table of goodies right outside and I wanted a bagle. They weren't willing to give me their bagle unless I gave them my blood. I figured fair trade. I took a couple of extra cookies too. Whenever I give blood I am overprotective of the arm that had the gargantuan needle stuck into it. I don't raise the arm, in fact I'm trying not to type too much with it right now. "Don't touch the arm, don't go near the arm." Subconsciously I must think that it will explode or something because I really can't explain why I need to stop all motion of the left arm.

So, it looks like I won't graduate for another 2 years... I would have been going to school for 7 years. The Man says that by then I should have a doctorate. I'm like, "I doctorate you." Then we get into a discussion of how I'm taking only classes that apply to my major and I'm passing all of them - what more can he ask. and He's like, "Get your act together you little shit." Then we went into why he wants me to graduate so much and the reason why is because he wants to see me accomplish something. I told him that I have a plant thats been alive for 3 weeks since I bought it and thats a fucking accomplishment if I ever heard of one.

So now I have to consider writing a novel or win the Nobel Peace Price or something accomplishment-standard-worthy. I just have to come up with something good, tough shit this accomplishment business is. Total yoda style of talking - this must mean I'm running out of things to say.

I'm becoming more reclusive and I really don't have anything to blame it on but my lack of social skills. I don't enjoy people's complaining, yammering, or bullshit enough to stick around and listen to them. I don't do it to them - why do they insist on putting me through a tirate of their petty shit. I give jokes, they give blah.

Fuck marine biology - what the fuck am I going to do with it when I get the bachelor's degree.

My Fingernails are Getting Shorter

Wednesday afternoon I was sitting in my car, listening to local radio, waiting for my biometrics lab to start. The radio station has been having a contest the past three weeks on winning a pair of Coachella Music Festival tickets. A listener calls when a certain song plays and you would grovel, and tell the dj why you deserve to go to the music festival over everyone else.

I decided to try it out. After waiting for the song to come on for so long it was nearing my lab time and I just had to stick around because I put in so much time already. Finally the song came on at about 3:20 so I started to call in and told him that I'm a college student who is working 30 hours a week and I need a break... I know not the best pleading story but I thought my charm had worked its magic through the phone line. I would have to wait after the song is over to see if the dj plays our conversation. A girl named Racheal won because she moved back in with her parents and they rule over her so she wants to go to piss them off.

I called in again yesterday to try to win - I was just doing laundry at the ole' bigots house so I had time to pass. But before the depeche mode song came on he was having people call in and vote for the album of the week and possibly win a cd. I called in because I really wanted Flaming Lips to be album of the week, then dj said, "You know what? I'm gonna give you a cd." I said "Cooooo- wait no. I was going to call in later to try to win the coachella tickets. Now I'm not going to win." He said, "No it all depends on your story, so call in and grovel still." I said, "But I'm just not that lucky." And I apparently used up all my luck points winning the cd.

Depeche Mode came blasting on and I waited a minute or two to call in because I know that the phone lines would be full anyway. I called in and told him that one of my grovel points was going to be that I don't win anything, but he just gave me a damn cd. I also said that it was my birthday soon and I can't celebrate it, so if he gives me the tickets it will be a belated birthday present. He said it was a nice angle and I should call back if I hear our conversation on the radio.

I waited patiently - feeling pretty certain I was going to win. No. Some lady named Jenny called in and said her husband left her recently and that they work together. No fair.

I was dissapointed because I had a 1 in 10 chance of winning - and I had my laugh to boot. Why is this world coming to a weird and dilapidated halt to pleasure zone.

Painting the Stiff Yogurt

School
Lost


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School
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I screwed myself on the fly lab that is going to be coming up very soon. I killed my flies. I sabotoged (spelled right?) my own little bitches. If my lab group had only made a little effort to help me out in doing this shit, I would have been able to reasonably do this lab. Instead I gave up all hope of continuing the facade that I could actually finish counting before I had time.

On the flip side, I think I just aced my biology test I took yesterday. I was so very much worried that I wasn't going to get a good grade. I wasn't afraid that I'm going to fail but that this guy that I secretly compete against would beat me out on a good grade. I have to beat him in everything. I do these things in every class so that I have incentive to pass the classes. I would waste time and money if I didn't find people to compete against.

I hate school right now. I don't want to learn anymore. I'm currently contemplating suicide - or at least faking my own death - in order to stay away from learning. I wouldn't mind it, but its just so much crap to stuff into my noggin that it hurts.

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Lost
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I recently made a purchase that was a great deal of money. I bought the first season of Lost, and having never watched one episode I had to make a decision based on how desperate I was for some good tv. I love the tele and I miss it, so I have to buy tv shows on dvd.

Anyway, this show is creepy. I have to warn people to not watch this show drunk, late in the evening and alone, because it will make you look behind your shoulder at the white wall, but what you expect instead is a monster... or your dead father standing there with his back turned.

I have to wait for season two to come out on dvd and thats going to kill me.