Positive-sense RNA viruses can EAT ME, or Why I love my mommy and hate my schedule
I have a Virology (the class I took an incomplete in last year so that I could possibly redeem myself beyond the inevitable F I would have earned simply because of so much going on in my life at that point) exam on Thursday. My mom and my godmother got here on Friday. They leave the day of my exam. Haven't seen either of them in longer than I would prefer to admit, and I have to study for what could possibly be the most frightening exam I've taken in my life as well as spend quality time with my mommy and my Auntie Arlene.
Note: I am currently doing neither, in lieu wasting time by updating ye olde LJe. I also want a fish. A betta fish. Red. And I will name him The Mambo King, and he will diligently guard my castle (read: desperately uninspir(ed/ing) college student apartment) and be my faithful companion who likes to eat that gross flakey stuff and who will live in an obscenely large martini glass. with a glass olive. And possibly even get some gin if he's good.
I think I have adult ADD. I have split my attention equally tonight between Oscar coverage by perezhilton.com, gofugyourself.com and imdb.com, and the structure, genome organization, expression, replication, entry methods, life cycle etc of family Flaviviridae.
Want. Aderol. (Would also take: puppy, wildy oversized alcoholic beverage, sexy barista from Starbucks at AZ Mills Mall, where I work at BBW, any advice regarding ways to electroporate myself and attach my virology professor to myself, hoping to learn by diffusion. Results to be quantified later by use of Western Blot.)
I also want a man. A nice man. A liberal man. A man who is not PAINFULLY AWKWARD OR INADEQUATE IN BED would be nice. Also brave, loyal, thrifty, cheerful, clean, reverent, wise, honestpartridgeinapeartreeblahblahblahadnauseum. And I want him to have dark hair and not be too skinny and like classical music (opera and musical theater too--but he has to be straight). There's a guy in my virology class who I find myself looking at. I'm attracted, but more like he's-cute-as-a-template-and-why-can't-I-find-someone-who-looks-like-him sort of attracted. I'd probably be bored out of my mind with this particular guy after about ten minutes. But I want to bring him everywhere with me and say:
WARNINGWARNINGWARNING: SLEEP-DEPRIVATION-INDUCED RANT:
"Men of the world: this is how to dress. Fashionably-cut jeans, a buttondown shirt and a sweater over it. Or a polo and a jacket. Not your jim-jams and a hoodie. Not pants whose stance at half-mast leads me to think you are in mourning for something--perhaps yourlong-gone fashion sense. Not t-shirts that advertise alcohol, porn stars' labels, "clever" sayings which hint at the size of your genitalia--generally very generous estimations, too--your preferences in women, skate/snowboarding labels (25-plus-year-old men have NO. RIGHT. to wear Volcom, Independent, Ezekiel, Hurley, Element,etc--as a matter of fact, this extends to Famous, Skin Industries, and their ilk as well; it makes me wonder when their moms are coming to get them from The Mall and make them do their homework and clean their rooms.) or your motivation for being in XYZ fraternity. And for the love of God, please, PLEASE do not wear clothes meant for someone a good hundred pounds heavier than thou. Unattractive does not begin to describe the loathesome appearance of that interpretation of male style. You are young. Most of you are attractive. A good handful are even smart enough that physical appearance isn't the only selling point. So grow up and dress like the guy in my virology class already!"
Ahhhhh. An hour killed. Back to Flavivirus. And some calculus.
K
Note: I am currently doing neither, in lieu wasting time by updating ye olde LJe. I also want a fish. A betta fish. Red. And I will name him The Mambo King, and he will diligently guard my castle (read: desperately uninspir(ed/ing) college student apartment) and be my faithful companion who likes to eat that gross flakey stuff and who will live in an obscenely large martini glass. with a glass olive. And possibly even get some gin if he's good.
I think I have adult ADD. I have split my attention equally tonight between Oscar coverage by perezhilton.com, gofugyourself.com and imdb.com, and the structure, genome organization, expression, replication, entry methods, life cycle etc of family Flaviviridae.
Want. Aderol. (Would also take: puppy, wildy oversized alcoholic beverage, sexy barista from Starbucks at AZ Mills Mall, where I work at BBW, any advice regarding ways to electroporate myself and attach my virology professor to myself, hoping to learn by diffusion. Results to be quantified later by use of Western Blot.)
I also want a man. A nice man. A liberal man. A man who is not PAINFULLY AWKWARD OR INADEQUATE IN BED would be nice. Also brave, loyal, thrifty, cheerful, clean, reverent, wise, honestpartridgeinapeartreeblahblahblahadnauseum. And I want him to have dark hair and not be too skinny and like classical music (opera and musical theater too--but he has to be straight). There's a guy in my virology class who I find myself looking at. I'm attracted, but more like he's-cute-as-a-template-and-why-can't-I-find-someone-who-looks-like-him sort of attracted. I'd probably be bored out of my mind with this particular guy after about ten minutes. But I want to bring him everywhere with me and say:
WARNINGWARNINGWARNING: SLEEP-DEPRIVATION-INDUCED RANT:
"Men of the world: this is how to dress. Fashionably-cut jeans, a buttondown shirt and a sweater over it. Or a polo and a jacket. Not your jim-jams and a hoodie. Not pants whose stance at half-mast leads me to think you are in mourning for something--perhaps yourlong-gone fashion sense. Not t-shirts that advertise alcohol, porn stars' labels, "clever" sayings which hint at the size of your genitalia--generally very generous estimations, too--your preferences in women, skate/snowboarding labels (25-plus-year-old men have NO. RIGHT. to wear Volcom, Independent, Ezekiel, Hurley, Element,etc--as a matter of fact, this extends to Famous, Skin Industries, and their ilk as well; it makes me wonder when their moms are coming to get them from The Mall and make them do their homework and clean their rooms.) or your motivation for being in XYZ fraternity. And for the love of God, please, PLEASE do not wear clothes meant for someone a good hundred pounds heavier than thou. Unattractive does not begin to describe the loathesome appearance of that interpretation of male style. You are young. Most of you are attractive. A good handful are even smart enough that physical appearance isn't the only selling point. So grow up and dress like the guy in my virology class already!"
Ahhhhh. An hour killed. Back to Flavivirus. And some calculus.
K