I don't know what you're thinking, but when I say that this boy (not man, boy) is rounded, I mean his physique. He has that look to him, like a bashful bulldog--tough but soft. Ok, before this turns into a that's-what-she-said joke, his personality isn't all that bad. You'd think he was a major d-bag at first glance, but it turns out that he's actually quite nice.
During our brief convo today, he was very inquisitive about my academic plans and why I chose ASU:
RPB: "So wait, you can get your bachelor's and master's degrees in four years?"
ME: "Yep, it's possible, you just have to overload on a lot of classes."
RPB: "Woah. That's really cool. So, you came in to school with how many credits?"
ME: "Oh, I dunno, 20-something."
RPB: "Wow, that's like a whole semester. So why ASU?"
ME: "The fact that I can get my bachelor's and master's degrees in four years."
RPB: "Cool."
The problem with the RPB is just that he's always two steps behind us. As one of my partners, I practically have to dictate every single thing I write on my lab, and then I look up, and he still has nothing written down on his lab.
And then he just looks at me all bashful and such.
What am I supposed to do, beat the kid? Being two steps behind in everything may be a little frustrating, especially for me, but since RPB is such a PB, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive him.
Luckily, as soon as I'm done, I just get the heck out of there, leaving RPB to fend for himself. Well, him and the other lab partner I'll blog about next. Due to the fact that I'm so unmotivated, I'm surprised that our lab ever gets finished. If it weren't for Casino Man, we'd never get anything done.
Someday I'm sure RPB will be really successful. Perhaps as a catalog model. As long as he stays away from anything biological or conversational, I think he'll be good.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The Casino Man
Of all of the people I've blogged about so far, this one is by far my favorite. He is the most helpful of all my lab partners, and because of him I can actually get out of lab on time. Maybe even early. I have yet to blog about my other partners, but let's just say the two weeks I went without Casino Man, I nearly killed them and myself from the lack of productivity in our group.
Casino Man just became his name today. Before, I really didn't have much of a name for him because he was mostly just helpful, but I found out some interesting information about him.
Casino Man is Casino Man because he was telling a VERY riveting story about how he and his friend went to the casino here before the lab, and how his friend lost all of his money on his first day here. However, that's not the point. We were talking about things to do over spring break, and one of the partners mentioned going to Mexico, and getting carded and such.
So naturally, we asked Casino Man exactly how he managed to get into the casino because he is clearly underage. He looks like he could be 19, at the most.
Casino Man just turned 21. 21!!!
This may not seem unbelievable to you, because you don't know him, but all of our jaws dropped at the table.
"You're 21?1" I said in disbelief, "You don't look like it at all."
I really meant that he's the most juvenile 21 year old I have ever seen.
And he claims not to have been carded at the casino.
Well done, Casino Man, well done.
Casino Man just became his name today. Before, I really didn't have much of a name for him because he was mostly just helpful, but I found out some interesting information about him.
Casino Man is Casino Man because he was telling a VERY riveting story about how he and his friend went to the casino here before the lab, and how his friend lost all of his money on his first day here. However, that's not the point. We were talking about things to do over spring break, and one of the partners mentioned going to Mexico, and getting carded and such.
So naturally, we asked Casino Man exactly how he managed to get into the casino because he is clearly underage. He looks like he could be 19, at the most.
Casino Man just turned 21. 21!!!
This may not seem unbelievable to you, because you don't know him, but all of our jaws dropped at the table.
"You're 21?1" I said in disbelief, "You don't look like it at all."
I really meant that he's the most juvenile 21 year old I have ever seen.
And he claims not to have been carded at the casino.
Well done, Casino Man, well done.
The Skull Man
Now, to be clear, I really have never noticed this guy before. He sits relatively quietly and unremarkably at the table next to me. He always seemed normal, I guess.
Until today.
Today, he wore a shirt that will define him forever, at least in my eyes. He wore a t-shirt with a pattern of skulls on it. Skulls, yes, skulls. Not like a skull and crossbones skull, but a skull that has no jaw. It was a pattern of skulls, warped skulls of which there had to be at least 50. Maybe more. All over the bottom of the shirt.
This gentleman isn't exactly a small gentleman, and the shirt was extremely tight on him. It wasn't what I would call flattering, but skulls aren't really doing much for anyone. Perhaps making them look more alive, at best. At worst, like a Creepy McCreeperson.
There are so many strange things in my Bio lab, but today, this caught my attention.
Nice to make your acquaintance, Skull Man.
Until today.
Today, he wore a shirt that will define him forever, at least in my eyes. He wore a t-shirt with a pattern of skulls on it. Skulls, yes, skulls. Not like a skull and crossbones skull, but a skull that has no jaw. It was a pattern of skulls, warped skulls of which there had to be at least 50. Maybe more. All over the bottom of the shirt.
This gentleman isn't exactly a small gentleman, and the shirt was extremely tight on him. It wasn't what I would call flattering, but skulls aren't really doing much for anyone. Perhaps making them look more alive, at best. At worst, like a Creepy McCreeperson.
There are so many strange things in my Bio lab, but today, this caught my attention.
Nice to make your acquaintance, Skull Man.
Okay, maybe not as creepy as this, but still.
courtesy of foundshit.com
Saturday, February 27, 2010
The Teen Mom
No, this is not the MTV show, this is a girl that I actually don't mind being around. I just know way too much about her life. Her identifying factor is that she had a baby last semester. On the first day of class, when we had to introduce ourselves, that's honestly what she said when she mentioned something interesting about herself. She and the military lady chat about the military (the teen mom's dad is in the air force) and children and discipline and doctors and all-in-all unsavory topics that make me not want to have kids. Such as this conversation I overheard on a recent Thursday:
TM: "I just had to take my baby to get his shots. It was so hard!!"
ML: "Oh I know that feeling! I wouldn't even take my kids when they were babies. I'd make my mom do it. I'd be like, 'Mom, I don't want to see them in pain, you do it!'" (laughs)
TM: "Yeah, his father won't even do it, so I have to be the bad guy. Oh my gosh, it sucks."
ML: "Just appreciate it now, when they're babies. Wait until they're older and mouthing off at you every chance they get. You'll be wishing for those days...[goes off into an unrelated story about her kids]"
FL: "When's this f*cking class going to start, let's go."
TM: "Yeah, some people have places they need to be, like a baby they need to pick up from the daycare center, jeez."
Great for you, teen mom. I bet you're an awesome mom and extremely lucky to still be with the baby's father. It seems like you're providing a relatively stable life for your child. Once it becomes something that we all have to hear about, that's when I say enough. Being a teen mom is not wearing a badge saying, "YAY I'm a mom!" It's doing your job. Thanks for sharing your weird stories about kids that I won't need to know for about ten years. My uterus aches just thinking about it.
TM: "I just had to take my baby to get his shots. It was so hard!!"
ML: "Oh I know that feeling! I wouldn't even take my kids when they were babies. I'd make my mom do it. I'd be like, 'Mom, I don't want to see them in pain, you do it!'" (laughs)
TM: "Yeah, his father won't even do it, so I have to be the bad guy. Oh my gosh, it sucks."
ML: "Just appreciate it now, when they're babies. Wait until they're older and mouthing off at you every chance they get. You'll be wishing for those days...[goes off into an unrelated story about her kids]"
FL: "When's this f*cking class going to start, let's go."
TM: "Yeah, some people have places they need to be, like a baby they need to pick up from the daycare center, jeez."
Great for you, teen mom. I bet you're an awesome mom and extremely lucky to still be with the baby's father. It seems like you're providing a relatively stable life for your child. Once it becomes something that we all have to hear about, that's when I say enough. Being a teen mom is not wearing a badge saying, "YAY I'm a mom!" It's doing your job. Thanks for sharing your weird stories about kids that I won't need to know for about ten years. My uterus aches just thinking about it.
The Military Lady
The military lady isn't actually in the military, her husband is, but you would think she is because that's all she ever talks about. Granted, I don't even sit near her during our actual lab, but I know basically her entire life story thanks to the 10 minutes I spend waiting in the hallway for our instructor to let us into the lab (aka torture chamber). So before we get into the torture chamber, I sit there across from the f*ck lady and the military lady and try to sit and concentrate on my lab workbook, but can't help overhearing some of their conversations.
ML: "This is my husband's FIFTH tour of duty being a bomb tech, and I just want him to come home to me and our four kids. I never know how he's going to act when I talk to him on the phone; sometimes he's in a good mood, and sometimes he's just going to explode. My 13-year-old mouthed off to me the other day, and I made her sit in the corner in front of all her friends. That embarrassed her so bad. She's gonna learn to respect me in my house. My husband, all he'd have to do is growl at her and she'd listen."
FL: "When is this f*cking class going to start?"
ML: "I had to get up at two in the morning today so I could catch my freaking plane so I could go to this class, and if she's not here I'm going to be pissed. Do you know how early I have to get up? Do you know how much driving I have to do? I don't want to be here any more than you do. This is my last freaking semester here and I NEVER HAVE TO BE IN THIS STATE AGAIN. Except my mother-in-law lives here. I guess I have to visit her because I feel guilty."
When the instructor finally opens the door to the torture chamber, I couldn't be happier to be rid of this other middle-aged, clearly doesn't belong here, deeply unhappy woman. The military lady is the ultimate oversharer. She's constantly giving unsolicited advice to the teen mom (I'll talk about her in my next blog post) and sharing intimate information about her personal life with whoever happens to be within earshot. Trust me, military lady, I can't wait until you never have to be in this state again. I can only hope your mother-in-law lives far away enough that we never have to be within earshot, either.
P.S. I feel really, really bad for your kids. I hope you enjoy the day when the only reason they visit you when you're old is because they "feel guilty."
ML: "This is my husband's FIFTH tour of duty being a bomb tech, and I just want him to come home to me and our four kids. I never know how he's going to act when I talk to him on the phone; sometimes he's in a good mood, and sometimes he's just going to explode. My 13-year-old mouthed off to me the other day, and I made her sit in the corner in front of all her friends. That embarrassed her so bad. She's gonna learn to respect me in my house. My husband, all he'd have to do is growl at her and she'd listen."
FL: "When is this f*cking class going to start?"
ML: "I had to get up at two in the morning today so I could catch my freaking plane so I could go to this class, and if she's not here I'm going to be pissed. Do you know how early I have to get up? Do you know how much driving I have to do? I don't want to be here any more than you do. This is my last freaking semester here and I NEVER HAVE TO BE IN THIS STATE AGAIN. Except my mother-in-law lives here. I guess I have to visit her because I feel guilty."
When the instructor finally opens the door to the torture chamber, I couldn't be happier to be rid of this other middle-aged, clearly doesn't belong here, deeply unhappy woman. The military lady is the ultimate oversharer. She's constantly giving unsolicited advice to the teen mom (I'll talk about her in my next blog post) and sharing intimate information about her personal life with whoever happens to be within earshot. Trust me, military lady, I can't wait until you never have to be in this state again. I can only hope your mother-in-law lives far away enough that we never have to be within earshot, either.
P.S. I feel really, really bad for your kids. I hope you enjoy the day when the only reason they visit you when you're old is because they "feel guilty."
The F*ck Lady
I came up with a really fitting name for this lady. She's not the most interesting of them all, but she has one specifically irritating characteristic: she says f*ck like some people use the word "like."
The f*ck lady should not be in a class filled mostly with freshmen fulfilling a gen-ed requirement. She is about twenty years older than all of us and she acts like she has always better places to be. She's Canadian, remarried, and talks way too much about how bratty her stepchildren are. And brags about how much of a "harda$$" stepmom she is that the kids are afraid of her. Frankly, we're all afraid of her here at the Bio lab scene. When we get to lab, if we don't get into class at 4:30 on the dot, her conversations with me (not that I actually want to be conversing with her; she just happens to be nearby) go something like this.
FL: "When is she going to let us into this f*cking class? I can't f*cking stand this. I f*cking want to go home, you know? This is f*cking bullsh*t. I'm just going to f*cking leave. Let's go."
ME: "Uh, I think she's in there. Just give it a few minutes."
Sometimes, f*ck lady, I don't even know if you're talking to me. You always wear your stupid bluetooth headset that makes you look like you're talking to the air. You should probably realize that NOBODY wants to be in Bio lab and you need to stop acting like you're the only one being forced into the torturous procedures of our education system. And, for the love of all things good in the world, stop saying f*ck.
The f*ck lady should not be in a class filled mostly with freshmen fulfilling a gen-ed requirement. She is about twenty years older than all of us and she acts like she has always better places to be. She's Canadian, remarried, and talks way too much about how bratty her stepchildren are. And brags about how much of a "harda$$" stepmom she is that the kids are afraid of her. Frankly, we're all afraid of her here at the Bio lab scene. When we get to lab, if we don't get into class at 4:30 on the dot, her conversations with me (not that I actually want to be conversing with her; she just happens to be nearby) go something like this.
FL: "When is she going to let us into this f*cking class? I can't f*cking stand this. I f*cking want to go home, you know? This is f*cking bullsh*t. I'm just going to f*cking leave. Let's go."
ME: "Uh, I think she's in there. Just give it a few minutes."
Sometimes, f*ck lady, I don't even know if you're talking to me. You always wear your stupid bluetooth headset that makes you look like you're talking to the air. You should probably realize that NOBODY wants to be in Bio lab and you need to stop acting like you're the only one being forced into the torturous procedures of our education system. And, for the love of all things good in the world, stop saying f*ck.
What this is about.
First off, I have to say that I really don't mind my actual biology lecture. It's sort of interesting, sometimes, and my teachers try to be a little creative.
But the absolute worst thing in the world is when I have to go to lab and actually put into practice all of the crap I've learned, or supposed to have learned at least. It's not the lab itself that's so horrible, only that just adds to it. It's the people I'm forced to interact with that I'm going to be discussing here. I just can't even deal with them in real life, so I'm going to blog about them.
I'll start by profiling them like my favorite FBI agents on Criminal Minds. Later I'll add some anecdotes about the crazy things they do as this semester progresses. It'll make you laugh, but mostly, it will probably make you cry. Or at least feel sorry for me. Maybe that will help me get through it, and add some humor to an excruciating two hours of my life per week that I'll never get back.
NOTE: All conversations with people being profiled are true snippets of conversations I've either had or overheard, but are also highly dramatized.
But the absolute worst thing in the world is when I have to go to lab and actually put into practice all of the crap I've learned, or supposed to have learned at least. It's not the lab itself that's so horrible, only that just adds to it. It's the people I'm forced to interact with that I'm going to be discussing here. I just can't even deal with them in real life, so I'm going to blog about them.
I'll start by profiling them like my favorite FBI agents on Criminal Minds. Later I'll add some anecdotes about the crazy things they do as this semester progresses. It'll make you laugh, but mostly, it will probably make you cry. Or at least feel sorry for me. Maybe that will help me get through it, and add some humor to an excruciating two hours of my life per week that I'll never get back.
NOTE: All conversations with people being profiled are true snippets of conversations I've either had or overheard, but are also highly dramatized.
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