That's right, I'm making that bet

You know how Gross doesn't make sense until the night before the exam? That was worrisome for the first exam or so, but then we all knew how it went and didn't freak out when we didn't know what we were talking about 2 days before the exam. I'm kinda banking on B&B being like that too. I realize that's not a bet you want to be wrong on, but I'm so ridiculously unprepared, I've just gotta go with it. The only reason I didn't run out of the Friday review session screaming was because everyone else in the room was also laughing at the fact that they didn't know anything. Nothing comforts me more than knowing I'm not the only clueless one.


I love it when Dr. Giffin says during class, "It's not like this is rocket science." No, it's not rocket science it's BRAIN SURGERY! I can only imagine what the professors at Purdue say during their lectures. "Now, to find the proper trajectory you take the Fourier transformation of this eliptic curve and then triply integrate it using non-infinity restraints, you'll end up with a cube root of a Fibonacci number. Seriously, you should all be able to do this, it's not brain surgery."
(Note: That sentence laden with random mathematical terms probably sounds something like this "If you trace the path of the basal ganglion through the cerebellar-ilial junction, you'll notice some ptosis of the left lateral brachial plexus resulting from a stage 4 Trendelenburg's sign.")


So the other day I was opening a pickle jar, and it was really hard to open. Not like when a girl is being lazy, so she has you open it for her but legitimately difficult. I check for a plastic seal, didn't see one, so I really started to torque it around, still nothing. I break out the big guns for the next attempt and hear this crinkling noise. That tipped me off that something had to be off, so I checked again and sure enough, there was a plastic seal on it. Though I felt like an idiot, that was cancelled out by being proud of my manly ability to be stronger than the plastic sealant.


A bear walks into a bar and says, "Hey, can I have a rum..................and coke."
The bartender says, "Sure, but why the big pause?"
The bear says, "Oh these? I was born with them."
(Say it out loud....)


Why do you feel better when everything is clean? I went on a cleaning spree last week, and for whatever reason, life is happier. Looking at the gleaming white of my bathroom brings joy to my heart. There has to be some reason for that. Satisfaction that I did a good job? Inherent feelings of responsibility? Knowing that I'm not continuing to live in filth? I really hope that gets covered sometime during Brain and Behavior...