As of yesterday at about 4 or 4:30, I am done with my finals and paper and all those other things that were making me want to pull my hair out. (I know, I said I’d try and keep it in perspective. I don’t think it worked very well). To celebrate completing my finals, I went over to my boyfriend’s apartment. He and his roommate decided they wanted to play rockband. I agreed to do a guitar part.

Let me take a step back here. First, if you don’t know what rockband is, its a video game that lets you play instruments and sing along with downloaded songs and they tell you how you did. Neat system, very entertaining, and so on.

Second, if you don’t know me, you may be unaware of my issue with singing. And my issue is this: I DO NOT SING. Pretty straight forward, really. I did when I was a kid. And then I realized I sounded like someone was trying to drown a cat. And so I have stopped.

Back to the story line we go. So I agreed to play the guitar part. Nick was singing, and his roommate was playing bass. We played 5 or 6 songs like this. And then I mentioned that my hand was tired. WRONG THING TO SAY. Quicker than I knew, the microphone was in my hand and Nick had selected “You oughta know” by Alanis Morissette. As he explained, “I know you know this. All girls know this.” I would have argued that point, but he was right.

(Not mine, GIS)

And so I sang. It wasn’t all that bad. Except for one thing. “You oughta know” has one VERY clearly sung curse word. And rockband is censored. And I did not know that. So mid song, I was going along, and sang the line (I am so sorry to those of you who damage easily. Its the lyrics, simple as that): “Are you thinking of me when you f******ck her” with a nice long emphasis on the f-bomb there. Problem being, as I sang that particular word, rockband got all quiet and didn’t sing with me. Goooody. So my first singing experience in however long a time involved me shouting the f-word, unprovoked.

I hate to admit it, but calculus is actually fairly useful. I can see why so many majors require it. Don’t tell my boyfriend I told you that. He’ll gloat. (He is a math person. I am not. He has defended its merits. Sadly, he’s been right).

These are my noted for my impending exam:

I am sooooo screwed.

As you may know (if you’ve been reading a while) one of my main goals from this blog is to maintain perspective on my life as a whole. There are times this can be very difficult. I am a perfectionist, so its hard to the “end of the world” feeling at bay during finals. There is so much stress in the air this time of the term and it can be hard not to get overwhelmed. I need to work on remembering that these classes do not define college for me. College does not define my success. And success does not define my health. No matter what happens with classes, I am healthy and alive and have a loving family. Getting a “C” in a class matters very little, when you get down to it. I would still get my diploma. I can still be successful. Every little score does not have to be perfect.

But man I love seeing “A”s on transcripts…

I feel proud of myself. When coming to college, I was awarded a (esentially) full-ride scholarship. Naturally, I was very happy about this. I didn’t know just how lucky I was, though. It turns out, only 50 students a year receive this scholarship. My university has over 20,000 students. Given the 200 total students in the school with this scholarship (50×4), I had a 0.01% chance of getting this scholarship. Um, wow. Yay? I think I can safely say yay.

In less yay news, I found this out because my scholarship adviser seems to no longer exist. I think he may have died. I’m taking summer classes next quarter, and wanted to be sure the scholarship wouldn’t cover it (so I get normal coverage in later terms). Upon emailing him, it came back saying the email address no longer exists. And its gotten more complicated from there. So tomorrow brings a lot of leg work. Weeee.

Little known fact: box jellyfish hate us and want us to die. I feel the burden of responsibility to expose the truth behind these evil-doers. The fact that they are one of my greatest fears (some people say phobia, but phobias are irrational) may also play a part.

As you may or may not know, box jellies (also called sea wasps) are the deadliest organisms on earth. Why? First. They are hugely toxic. A single jelly can kill a human. And the death is arguably the most painful death one can experience. Not that they travel alone. Oh no. They travel in packs. Swarms. Death clubs. Second. They are tiny and nearly invisible. A single jelly has a bell of only 1-3 cm. It is almost perfectly clear. Even more clear? The tentacles that extend 10x the body length. Third. Unlike most jellies, which merely have photo receptors, box jellyfish have lenses. With retinas and a mobile iris. And even better, they have 24. Which can form a complete picture even though they don’t have a true brain. And they are evenly spaced around the bell so there is no “front” or “back” to the animal. Lastly, box jellyfish hunt. They’re not like other jellies that wait for something to bump into them. They don’t sit and wait. They actively pursue prey (vertebrates!!!!) and are able to do 180 degree turns and dart quickly.

(Picture not mine, GIS)

But Emily, you say. They’re only in Northeastern Australia. Why do they affect us? For one, queensland is one of (if not the) highest grossing tourist destinations in australia. Second, did you consider global warming? As the oceans get warmer, their range will expand. Didn’t think of that, didja? Or what about their toxins being so dutifully researched across the world? This requires a tank of the little bastards in every lab in the land.

If this has not convinced you of the horrifying plot in our midst, then I vote you’re the first to go when they attack. I would also like to mention, since I know he reads this blog: Mackenna, it is your fault I am “irrationally” afraid of box jellyfish. I still remember you telling me about them and how painful the death is after some tourist kicked it in australia. We went to the lake that day, and you didn’t mention until *after* we left that they only were found in limited locations. As such: thank you for giving me an interest in biology and warning me of this horrible danger. And screw you for ruining a day at the lake. Love you big brother!

(PS- these are the productive things college leads to. Invertebrate biology is scary.)

Calculus is evil. It is the embodiment of everything unpatriotic that wants to harm America. (I’m pretty sure it was Hitler’s favorite pastime). It likes to kick puppies. When you don’t look, it pick’s its nose and puts them on your favorite pillow case. It makes sure to tinkle on the seat in public restrooms. It moved your carpet a couple inches and bunches it so you’ll trip.

In short, what I am getting at is that calculus is quite evil. All my calculations seem to confirm this. Too bad I can’t do the calculus to check.

(PS- or I could just be not enjoying math. Which is sad, given we’re still reviewing trig and haven’t even started with the calculus. Oh my.)