Come with me to the Wingèd Isle, Northern father's silent Thunder Child...
And so, armed with only a trusty Triffid and a DVD of the Doctor Who season finale, she departed hence for lands uncharted and populated mainly by ducks...
In other words, yes, I did indeed forget most of the necessities of life with which to furnish my new enclosure here at Massey, the centre of the sheep world! But oh well... I'm sure I can survive without bedsheets, meat, vegetables, cereal and a DVD of the rest of that season of Doctor Who for another two weeks...
(Why on earth have I written "flannel" on my list of things to get?! That's one of the few things I do have! Oh dear...I wonder what I meant to write instead of that...)
Yup. Aietra's back, back again. And I thought I'd mark the occasion with an equally dramatic return to LJ! FaceBook just doesn't cut it when it comes to recounting the tales of my daily adventures to ye, my loyal fans and followers. Especially when it's full of Javascript errors and broken links and only David Gilmour's entries come up. Of course, I fully intended to ask Dave to ask Wendy if she got her camera case O.K., but I think he's probably busy rocking at the moment.
Anyhoos, lectures are now in full swing - except for Animal Genetics, where the entire herd of vet students walked around the campus for the entire hour looking for the lecturer, who was one step behind us the whole way. I figure us vet students deserve the prestigious title of "herd" now, since we're going to spend this year learning about sheep. Did you know that there were 87 million sheep in New Zealand in 1985? That number has since decreased, and was recorded at about 35 million in 2008. Pity...I'm going to miss those sheep...
Animal Science, Animal Genetics, Veterinary Physiology and Veterinary Anatomy - that's what's on the menu for me this year. Same dog for Anatomy...fingers crossed the old Escherischi coli haven't gotten stuck in and had their own little microbial Christmas over the holidays! So far, we have learned about the eyeball, brain, spinal cord and peripheral nervous system. Oh, and sheep. Dissection of the eyeball commences at 1400 hours on Thursday.
I managed to get moved to Fergusson Hall, so when I'm all cozy and settled in, I hope to acquire two Bourke's parakeets. For those of you who I haven't enthused to about them already, they're like little pink budgies. I'm pondering calling them Pink and Floyd, but somehow that doesn't seem very imaginative...I mean, everyone calls their Bourkies and Galahs "Floyd"! I dunno...any suggestions?
The room is...well, I suppose some would call it "cozy" already! That's the polite way of putting it. But my whitewashed concrete walls are decorated with photos of Meg (the Pink Floyd poster doesn't stay up with blu-tack, and I can't stick pins in these walls! What to do?! :( ), the threadbare carpet is decorated with a suitable quotia of cabin bread crumbs and the noticeboard on the outside of my door reads "Caution: Triffids".
The noticeboard of the person opposite me reads, unfortunately, "Anita will drink you under the table". I'm thinking this doesn't bode well for quiet, reflective evenings learning the neurotransmitters of the autonomic neural synapses.
Oh well, no matter - I'm writing an epic Doctor Who fanfiction!
And Monk is on... must go see if I can achieve basic communication that suffices to clear the common room of Shortland Street fans...
Laters, all!
In other words, yes, I did indeed forget most of the necessities of life with which to furnish my new enclosure here at Massey, the centre of the sheep world! But oh well... I'm sure I can survive without bedsheets, meat, vegetables, cereal and a DVD of the rest of that season of Doctor Who for another two weeks...
(Why on earth have I written "flannel" on my list of things to get?! That's one of the few things I do have! Oh dear...I wonder what I meant to write instead of that...)
Yup. Aietra's back, back again. And I thought I'd mark the occasion with an equally dramatic return to LJ! FaceBook just doesn't cut it when it comes to recounting the tales of my daily adventures to ye, my loyal fans and followers. Especially when it's full of Javascript errors and broken links and only David Gilmour's entries come up. Of course, I fully intended to ask Dave to ask Wendy if she got her camera case O.K., but I think he's probably busy rocking at the moment.
Anyhoos, lectures are now in full swing - except for Animal Genetics, where the entire herd of vet students walked around the campus for the entire hour looking for the lecturer, who was one step behind us the whole way. I figure us vet students deserve the prestigious title of "herd" now, since we're going to spend this year learning about sheep. Did you know that there were 87 million sheep in New Zealand in 1985? That number has since decreased, and was recorded at about 35 million in 2008. Pity...I'm going to miss those sheep...
Animal Science, Animal Genetics, Veterinary Physiology and Veterinary Anatomy - that's what's on the menu for me this year. Same dog for Anatomy...fingers crossed the old Escherischi coli haven't gotten stuck in and had their own little microbial Christmas over the holidays! So far, we have learned about the eyeball, brain, spinal cord and peripheral nervous system. Oh, and sheep. Dissection of the eyeball commences at 1400 hours on Thursday.
I managed to get moved to Fergusson Hall, so when I'm all cozy and settled in, I hope to acquire two Bourke's parakeets. For those of you who I haven't enthused to about them already, they're like little pink budgies. I'm pondering calling them Pink and Floyd, but somehow that doesn't seem very imaginative...I mean, everyone calls their Bourkies and Galahs "Floyd"! I dunno...any suggestions?
The room is...well, I suppose some would call it "cozy" already! That's the polite way of putting it. But my whitewashed concrete walls are decorated with photos of Meg (the Pink Floyd poster doesn't stay up with blu-tack, and I can't stick pins in these walls! What to do?! :( ), the threadbare carpet is decorated with a suitable quotia of cabin bread crumbs and the noticeboard on the outside of my door reads "Caution: Triffids".
The noticeboard of the person opposite me reads, unfortunately, "Anita will drink you under the table". I'm thinking this doesn't bode well for quiet, reflective evenings learning the neurotransmitters of the autonomic neural synapses.
Oh well, no matter - I'm writing an epic Doctor Who fanfiction!
And Monk is on... must go see if I can achieve basic communication that suffices to clear the common room of Shortland Street fans...
Laters, all!