Oh shitshitshit!
I'd been promising myself that I'd make it to this year's Day of Insects at the botanical garden, because I missed the one last year. Even though it could be seen as eight hours of goofing off, because I owe a proposal and two problem sets to Dr. Godebski for Conservation Biology, and they're late. Like, really late. But the Day of Insects is just a fun thing. A fun educational thing that's mostly for interested laypeople. There's no particular reason for Godebski to go...is there?
So, who should I run into, as soon as there's a break between talks? Why, who but Dr. Godebski!
"Oh, hello, Orthent! Have you met Alex Licht from the Iowa Lepidoptera Project? Alex, this is a student of mine."
I can't say anything but "Er, er, er." Eventually I manage to get out that I'm putting together a bibliography for a research paper for Dr. Godebski. (Dr. Godebski is meanwhile talking to someone else.) "It's going to be about tradeoffs between restoration management and, and, um, insect diversity, of course the article you co-wrote on the, ah, um, declines of prairie butterflies in the midwest is in it, it's really cool to meet you!"
Anything to cover up the fact that I haven't yet read his paper about the declines of prairie butterflies in the midwest. Shitshitshitshiiiiiit!
He's very nice. And the talks are good. Mantids! Robber flies! Slave-making ants! And I also run into Egen Hansen, who is doing some kind of mark-recapture survey of red admirals this summer, and he tells me he'd be happy to have help. (And it starts in the middle of freaking April, maybe this is not such a great idea after all.) And I keep thinking of Dr. Godebski's smile, which I'm sure bodes no good.
She caught me in the act of doing something that isn't writing my proposal.
I am so, so dead. And I deserve to be.
So, who should I run into, as soon as there's a break between talks? Why, who but Dr. Godebski!
"Oh, hello, Orthent! Have you met Alex Licht from the Iowa Lepidoptera Project? Alex, this is a student of mine."
I can't say anything but "Er, er, er." Eventually I manage to get out that I'm putting together a bibliography for a research paper for Dr. Godebski. (Dr. Godebski is meanwhile talking to someone else.) "It's going to be about tradeoffs between restoration management and, and, um, insect diversity, of course the article you co-wrote on the, ah, um, declines of prairie butterflies in the midwest is in it, it's really cool to meet you!"
Anything to cover up the fact that I haven't yet read his paper about the declines of prairie butterflies in the midwest. Shitshitshitshiiiiiit!
He's very nice. And the talks are good. Mantids! Robber flies! Slave-making ants! And I also run into Egen Hansen, who is doing some kind of mark-recapture survey of red admirals this summer, and he tells me he'd be happy to have help. (And it starts in the middle of freaking April, maybe this is not such a great idea after all.) And I keep thinking of Dr. Godebski's smile, which I'm sure bodes no good.
She caught me in the act of doing something that isn't writing my proposal.
I am so, so dead. And I deserve to be.