There is much to comment about, living in the south, especially down “tobacco road.” In particular, this phenomenon called March Madness. Many of you loyal college basketball enthusiasts would have heard of it before. It is a period of 2-3 months where people and places are infected with a fever; a basketball fever. If you recall, I live and work in a place called Chapel Hill, home of the famous UNC Tarheels, ranked #1 in the nation for the 2008 season. Welcome to Blue Heaven, this is where our story begins.
Everyone, down in the south, and I mean *everyone* are loyal, to the death, basketball followers. It’s not just UNC (although for obvious reasons, I am partial) it’s for Wake Forest, Duke, NC State or Davidson. If you are from the area, or transplants (both foreign and native) you quickly become engrossed in the excitement and before you know it, you life revolves around basketball. The next few months during the season are futile for work productivity, as much time is spent trying to finagle your way into home games (as tickets are next to impossible to secure if you are not a student) strategizing b-ball, and basically living for the next game. Also which bar to go to for which game also becomes important decision, as you cannot just walk into an establishment at tip off. That is, unless you don’t mind watching the game through the reflection in the window. On Franklin Street, (the main drag in Chapel Hill) you must secure your place hours in advance of the game’s start and this fight is not just with the collegiate, but alumni, locals, and your fellow co-workers.
It is hard to describe the passion these people exude for their respective teams. Shops, restaurants, homes, cars etc are decorated in team colors and words of encouragement pour out of those passing by. People with nothing in common bond over their love of the game and their teams. Watch out if rival schools play (e.g. UNC vs Duke). Fires, riots, and nasty words spew even out of the most innocent mouths. Once the regular ACC season is over, March madness commences with a fury. Schools pause during classes and TVs are rolled into gymnasiums so students and faculty may follow the games that appear while school is in session. Even those working in, dare I say, “real” jobs also benefit from this phenomena. Case in point, an email I received from the Associated Director of Basic Research at the Cancer Center which read, “The UNC-FSU men's basketball game can be seen in the Pagano Conference Room starting at noon. Bring your lunch and watch the game.” For those conducting research at any other institution, if you were like me, you would have read this email 5x’s, then saved it, then read it again. We all know that doing anything other than bench work would be blasphemy. Here, it is standard to see the big screens magically appear in the atrium, blasting UNC and non-games to those passing through to catch an update of the score. Pools for brackets overflow from every work environment and big money and big reputations are at stake. Even the boss is in it for blood.
Unfortunately for us UNC fans, our beloved Heels lost in the final four. They put forth an exceptional season and we are all proud of them.
If I haven’t said this before, I’ll say it here, and you can quote me: I love this place. Welcome to basketball heaven. I hope all y’all will join me for next year.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Of Science and Skiing
I most recently returned from a scientific conference in Taos, NM. It is of the Keystone series of symposia. If you haven’t heard of it already, you should really check it out. They have conferences on all kinds of science, from migration in invasion and inflammation to the future of biofuels or the genetics of sleep. This is the second keystone conference I have attended in my stint as a scholar of science. The greatest thing about these conferences is that they are deliberately held at ski resorts. The intention being, you listen to the science in the morning, hit the slopes during the 6 h afternoon break, and then return for another evening of more science. The day is ended with an open bar and a full buffet-style dinner. Who could ask for anything more? Exceptional science, coupled with exceptional skiing.
My trip did not fail to disappoint. Luckily, I was accompanied by some great people who are a blast to hang out with and like to do “stuff”. Admittedly, we skipped out on the keynote address the first night to try watching the Carolina game at a local bar, Shadows. You would think with a name like that and a neon sign blinking beer that it would be a dodgy place. Actually, it was quite the contrary. There was live music and there were many families with children amongst the rest of us heathens. The manager Pedro was even so kind as to change the T.V. station, to allow us to watch our beloved Tar Heels.
We were able to spend two days on the slopes. I have to tell you Taos, NM when they have snow, especially fresh powder, is *the* place to ski. Long runs, friendly staff, and no people! It was relatively inexpensive as well (granted us Keystoners got a discount). Drive in, ski the better of the day, and drive out; it was as simple as that. Coming from the Midwest, this was a new experience for me. Usually, what we consider “ski resorts” (i.e. converted trash heaps, no joke) are constantly packed with people. The hills are always icy and short (we don’t have real mountains or powder for that matter), and you spend most of your time dodging the ski school if you were ever able to find a parking spot to even enter the place. Perhaps I am becoming somewhat of a ski-snob, but I don’t care. Especially as a beginner skier, a situation like that is counterproductive.
The rest of the conference was spent admiring the local color of the town, and experiencing the enchantment that is NM. It lived up to all my stereotypes, complete with red muddy earth, miles of nothing, and true cowboys that looked weathered by the earth and too much alcohol.
We also hit the local spa one day for a nice long massage after our first day of skiing (which was sorely needed, no pun intended). If you have the opportunity, try the RIVER STONES massage. OMG, heaven on earth. Then sit in the outside hot tub. Conference? I felt like I was on vacation. In the spirit of my first Keystone with Lil Kate, I just had to go snowshoeing again. My experience in NM was a little different then the Utah adventure. In Utah, we had a cute scruffy guide who carried our supplies and led us up to some beautiful panoramic mountain views. In contrast, the NM outing was more like being dropped off in the middle of nowhere and told that you have 2 h to be back at the spot you started or you would be left behind. Regardless of the odd circumstances we had a blast.
The remainder of trip, when not attending poster sessions and talks, was spent sitting around the fire, drinking beer, and partaking in witty banter. I think I could do this as a full time job. Although, by the time the symposium was completed, I was completely exhausted. I took a full day to recover (mainly sleep).
All in all, good fun. I highly recommend it!
Oh, and I'll try and upload some photos later (I'm sure you will all writhe with anticipation!!)
My trip did not fail to disappoint. Luckily, I was accompanied by some great people who are a blast to hang out with and like to do “stuff”. Admittedly, we skipped out on the keynote address the first night to try watching the Carolina game at a local bar, Shadows. You would think with a name like that and a neon sign blinking beer that it would be a dodgy place. Actually, it was quite the contrary. There was live music and there were many families with children amongst the rest of us heathens. The manager Pedro was even so kind as to change the T.V. station, to allow us to watch our beloved Tar Heels.
We were able to spend two days on the slopes. I have to tell you Taos, NM when they have snow, especially fresh powder, is *the* place to ski. Long runs, friendly staff, and no people! It was relatively inexpensive as well (granted us Keystoners got a discount). Drive in, ski the better of the day, and drive out; it was as simple as that. Coming from the Midwest, this was a new experience for me. Usually, what we consider “ski resorts” (i.e. converted trash heaps, no joke) are constantly packed with people. The hills are always icy and short (we don’t have real mountains or powder for that matter), and you spend most of your time dodging the ski school if you were ever able to find a parking spot to even enter the place. Perhaps I am becoming somewhat of a ski-snob, but I don’t care. Especially as a beginner skier, a situation like that is counterproductive.
The rest of the conference was spent admiring the local color of the town, and experiencing the enchantment that is NM. It lived up to all my stereotypes, complete with red muddy earth, miles of nothing, and true cowboys that looked weathered by the earth and too much alcohol.
We also hit the local spa one day for a nice long massage after our first day of skiing (which was sorely needed, no pun intended). If you have the opportunity, try the RIVER STONES massage. OMG, heaven on earth. Then sit in the outside hot tub. Conference? I felt like I was on vacation. In the spirit of my first Keystone with Lil Kate, I just had to go snowshoeing again. My experience in NM was a little different then the Utah adventure. In Utah, we had a cute scruffy guide who carried our supplies and led us up to some beautiful panoramic mountain views. In contrast, the NM outing was more like being dropped off in the middle of nowhere and told that you have 2 h to be back at the spot you started or you would be left behind. Regardless of the odd circumstances we had a blast.
The remainder of trip, when not attending poster sessions and talks, was spent sitting around the fire, drinking beer, and partaking in witty banter. I think I could do this as a full time job. Although, by the time the symposium was completed, I was completely exhausted. I took a full day to recover (mainly sleep).
All in all, good fun. I highly recommend it!
Oh, and I'll try and upload some photos later (I'm sure you will all writhe with anticipation!!)
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Friday, February 1, 2008
Back in the Day (which was a Wednesday if you didn’t know)
(Reminiscing) I remember when I could drink and drink and drink and reach that perfect point of pure euphoria-with no repercussions.
Well, times, they-are-a-changing.
I went to a hockey game this week, which involved your typical pre-game tail gate. The food was sizzling and the beer was flowing. Life was good. I had consumed 2 beers prior to entry into the rink, where I went on to purchase another cold one. I was feeling great, screaming my heart out (which I don’t get to do as much as I would like), chatting, laughing, blah, blah blah. At this point, my beer count was only 3, and since I wasn’t the DD, and the game was going into over-time, like most, I got up and purchased another beer. Now I am not a *small* person. Three beers shouldn’t put someone like me “over the edge.” I had trained myself in the UK to be able to drink at least 4-5 of the Queen’s pints, which for me, was completely respectable. However, once I took a sip of #4, my body went into a slight convulsion. I quickly pawned the beer off to some other, much willing recipient and left it at that. My team won the game (whoo hoo!), and after some more congregating we were on our way home. That turned out to be the longest car ride of my life as my body slowly started to destroy itself from the inside out (well, that is what it felt like at any rate). I did manage to make it home, but quickly set up camp in the bathroom were I sweated out my convulsions and the emptying out of my stomach.
More than anything, I am upset that my body can no longer tolerate what I once so enjoyed. I did have an incident back in college, where I can honestly say I drank way too much, as I was left incapacitated (and by incapacitated, I mean unconcious) for over 48 h after. I have never been the same since, but I am sorry body, that was years ago. Get over it.
The sad part is as well, that I FEEL hung over. I shouldn’t have the pain without the glory of the drunkenness that precedes it. Stupid body.
Well, times, they-are-a-changing.
I went to a hockey game this week, which involved your typical pre-game tail gate. The food was sizzling and the beer was flowing. Life was good. I had consumed 2 beers prior to entry into the rink, where I went on to purchase another cold one. I was feeling great, screaming my heart out (which I don’t get to do as much as I would like), chatting, laughing, blah, blah blah. At this point, my beer count was only 3, and since I wasn’t the DD, and the game was going into over-time, like most, I got up and purchased another beer. Now I am not a *small* person. Three beers shouldn’t put someone like me “over the edge.” I had trained myself in the UK to be able to drink at least 4-5 of the Queen’s pints, which for me, was completely respectable. However, once I took a sip of #4, my body went into a slight convulsion. I quickly pawned the beer off to some other, much willing recipient and left it at that. My team won the game (whoo hoo!), and after some more congregating we were on our way home. That turned out to be the longest car ride of my life as my body slowly started to destroy itself from the inside out (well, that is what it felt like at any rate). I did manage to make it home, but quickly set up camp in the bathroom were I sweated out my convulsions and the emptying out of my stomach.
More than anything, I am upset that my body can no longer tolerate what I once so enjoyed. I did have an incident back in college, where I can honestly say I drank way too much, as I was left incapacitated (and by incapacitated, I mean unconcious) for over 48 h after. I have never been the same since, but I am sorry body, that was years ago. Get over it.
The sad part is as well, that I FEEL hung over. I shouldn’t have the pain without the glory of the drunkenness that precedes it. Stupid body.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Food for Thought
I was recently informed that if you google the words, "North Carolina, frosty, and sperm," you will get my blog.
I thought that was an interesting piece of information about the wide-array of diversity within this blog. Hell, I think they were all even within one post.
At any rate...
I thought that was an interesting piece of information about the wide-array of diversity within this blog. Hell, I think they were all even within one post.
At any rate...
Friday, January 11, 2008
A Christmas Story (Part II)
The month of December seemed to move by pretty quickly, and before I knew it, it was time to fly back and see the family. I’ve been spoiled in this regard, because I have never lived further than a 2 h drive from “home.” Well, except the one year I was in the U.K., but I digress… There was never much preparation involved, throw clothes in bag, and leave. Now, I must plan months in advance to obtain a reasonable airfare, coordinate the drive to and from the airport etc., and most importantly budget the money. I had gone home for Thanksgiving, and that was pretty uneventful so I became brave and decided tried a different airport an add in a layover to get an *extra* cheap flight. Everything seemed like it would work out just fine. I was leaving rather early for Christmas, thereby missing the usual holiday rush. The other airport added another 1 h to the my drive but that was fine, I was saving $100.
It was madness up until the day of my departure. I was rushing to get critical experiments accomplished, which honestly, any experiment I rush to get done never works. It is a universal rule, and I have yet to learn my lesson. A friend from grad school was also visiting the day before I left. I haven’t seen her in a couple months and there was so much to talk about in so little time. Then the next thing I know it was off to the airport at 8 am the following day. I am happy to say I didn’t get lost, but it was further away then I initially anticipated and it was a very small airport. Good at that second b/c there were not long lines, and it was a breeze to get through check-in and security.
Now I neglected to inform you that when I tried to check in online the airline I booked my ticket with, I’ll call it airline A, would not allow me to check-in. Instead, I was redirected to another airline’s website (airline B) where I figured out that my first flight had been booked by airline A for airline B’s flight. OK.
I’m sitting at the appropriate terminal waiting to take off, when they announce the flight is delayed. I don’t know what traveler isn’t used to such an annoyance, therefore I wasn’t really concerned. I expected to miss my connecting flight, but was confident that the airline would work something out for me. Much to my chagrin, I find that airline B was unable to put me on another flight with them b/c I ordered my tickets via airline A, and they couldn’t book me an airline A flight as my connecting flight was indeed an airline A flight. Confused yet? Their advice: my best course of action was to find an airline A attendant and beg for help. Being at a super tiny airport (although they claim it is an international airport…I think maybe one flight leaves for an international destination) there were no airline A attendants to be found. I could go back through security and try at the check-in kiosks, but then I would miss the already delayed initial flight. I even tried calling airline A (I was on hold for 30 min) only to find out they could not help me either. I “yelled” (I’ve only actually yelled at someone twice in my life) at them for tricking me into flying on another airline, and if they could mix and match passengers why couldn’t they do the same for me now??? Phone guy: “Well miss, next time check your itinerary for this circumstance before you book your ticket.” Me: “Bite me.” No, no I didn’t say that but I wanted to. I have a PhD, I feel confident enough to say that I CAN read, and it didn’t say I was taking another airline until I tried to check-in online (24 h before departure AFTER the ticket was paid for). What makes the situation even more annoying is that another couple booked the same flight as myself from airline B and was told their flight was really an airline A flight so they were in the same boat as I was, just in reverse. Now, does that make any sense??
To make a long story short, after running around Cincinnati airport for over an hour, I did get my flight situation sorted out. After finally doing so, I asked the attendant, “What will happen to my luggage,” his response, “hahahahahahahahah.” I started to cry internally. To all those reprimanding me for checking bags, my response to you is I HAD TO. I did eventually receive my bags 2 days later, and left on the front steps of my mother’s home somewhere between the hours of 12-1 AM. That is another story in and of itself…
What I’ve learned from this experience:
1. Airlines are the devil.
2. Spend the extra money and take a direct flight from a *real* airport
3. Count your blessings, I complain, but my flight could have plummeted and crashed into a ball of flames/toxic fumes. I arrived, late but alive, and stuff is just stuff. Right? (;
After all this bad spiritedness (I don’t think this is a word but I will use it anyways) on my part, once I arrived at home I had a great time. It was probably the best Christmas I have had in recent memory. Lots of instrument playing, carol singing (my uncle got a karaoke machine and we went to town with it!), alcohol and family. Who could ask for anything more? It was the perfect prelude to the start of the New Year.
It was madness up until the day of my departure. I was rushing to get critical experiments accomplished, which honestly, any experiment I rush to get done never works. It is a universal rule, and I have yet to learn my lesson. A friend from grad school was also visiting the day before I left. I haven’t seen her in a couple months and there was so much to talk about in so little time. Then the next thing I know it was off to the airport at 8 am the following day. I am happy to say I didn’t get lost, but it was further away then I initially anticipated and it was a very small airport. Good at that second b/c there were not long lines, and it was a breeze to get through check-in and security.
Now I neglected to inform you that when I tried to check in online the airline I booked my ticket with, I’ll call it airline A, would not allow me to check-in. Instead, I was redirected to another airline’s website (airline B) where I figured out that my first flight had been booked by airline A for airline B’s flight. OK.
I’m sitting at the appropriate terminal waiting to take off, when they announce the flight is delayed. I don’t know what traveler isn’t used to such an annoyance, therefore I wasn’t really concerned. I expected to miss my connecting flight, but was confident that the airline would work something out for me. Much to my chagrin, I find that airline B was unable to put me on another flight with them b/c I ordered my tickets via airline A, and they couldn’t book me an airline A flight as my connecting flight was indeed an airline A flight. Confused yet? Their advice: my best course of action was to find an airline A attendant and beg for help. Being at a super tiny airport (although they claim it is an international airport…I think maybe one flight leaves for an international destination) there were no airline A attendants to be found. I could go back through security and try at the check-in kiosks, but then I would miss the already delayed initial flight. I even tried calling airline A (I was on hold for 30 min) only to find out they could not help me either. I “yelled” (I’ve only actually yelled at someone twice in my life) at them for tricking me into flying on another airline, and if they could mix and match passengers why couldn’t they do the same for me now??? Phone guy: “Well miss, next time check your itinerary for this circumstance before you book your ticket.” Me: “Bite me.” No, no I didn’t say that but I wanted to. I have a PhD, I feel confident enough to say that I CAN read, and it didn’t say I was taking another airline until I tried to check-in online (24 h before departure AFTER the ticket was paid for). What makes the situation even more annoying is that another couple booked the same flight as myself from airline B and was told their flight was really an airline A flight so they were in the same boat as I was, just in reverse. Now, does that make any sense??
To make a long story short, after running around Cincinnati airport for over an hour, I did get my flight situation sorted out. After finally doing so, I asked the attendant, “What will happen to my luggage,” his response, “hahahahahahahahah.” I started to cry internally. To all those reprimanding me for checking bags, my response to you is I HAD TO. I did eventually receive my bags 2 days later, and left on the front steps of my mother’s home somewhere between the hours of 12-1 AM. That is another story in and of itself…
What I’ve learned from this experience:
1. Airlines are the devil.
2. Spend the extra money and take a direct flight from a *real* airport
3. Count your blessings, I complain, but my flight could have plummeted and crashed into a ball of flames/toxic fumes. I arrived, late but alive, and stuff is just stuff. Right? (;
After all this bad spiritedness (I don’t think this is a word but I will use it anyways) on my part, once I arrived at home I had a great time. It was probably the best Christmas I have had in recent memory. Lots of instrument playing, carol singing (my uncle got a karaoke machine and we went to town with it!), alcohol and family. Who could ask for anything more? It was the perfect prelude to the start of the New Year.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
A Christmas Story (Part I)
I haven’t posted as frequently as I envisioned in my head. I have no excuses. Now, I am used to being *very* busy, but I had always managed to fit everything in, plus. Currently I cannot say that I am so preoccupied with work, social things, etc that I have no time to post. I am just lazy. I don’t know if it’s b/c of everything that’s happened in the last 6 months that has completely stripped me of doing anything then just minimally functioning or that I no longer have an ounce of motivation (probably a combination of both I imagine). I manage to find a way to utilize all my new “free” time by doing absolutely nothing. It’s quite easy actually. Anyways, that kind of set the tone for the holiday season. Summing up, I was just bah humbug.
Usually by Dec 1st, I have orchestrated a Christmas cookie party, festively decorated the home, blasted the holiday tunes, and sent out the Christmas cards way in advance of any US postal service backlog. This year however, to no surprise to those who actually read the first paragraph, I did nothing. It didn’t help that we were getting 70 degree weather here in the Carolinas, so to someone used to 3 ft of cold powdery stuff…wearing tank tops, flip flops, and basking in the sun outside didn’t have me anxiously waiting for Santa Clause (not that I am at all complaining about the glorious weather!) To all my faithful friends who didn’t receive lovely glittery cards, I am sorry but I just couldn’t get myself to do it (nothing personal and I hope you don’t remove me from your own lists next year). I did manage to set up a tiny tree, but that took me about three weeks to fully undertake. I also participated in the departmental holiday dessert bake-off which is the closest thing to Christmasy that I can claim. This leads me into my story of sweet disaster…
In lieu of the usual Christmas cookie party, I participated in the lab dessert contest for our departmental holiday party. Now this is a big deal, as the boss made sure to point out this fact during lab meeting. My self, along with two other women in the lab decided to take on this lofty task of creating the best holiday dessert the department has ever seen. After tossing around a number of ideas, we decided on reconstructing a three-dimensional version of Frosty the Snowman. Most sane people would realize this is next to impossible, but alas, we are scientists, nothing is impossible. Now, I have to let you know that we were doing this all free-hand, no molds, no recipes, just our pure creative geniuses.
We put Frosty together, frosted and decorated him. He ends up being about 1.5-2 feet high, we inserted a 50 mL pipette down the center for structural stability. His midsection was a little heavy and leaned slightly forward, as if he was on roids with a barrel chest, but nothing too concerning (at least at the time). Everything was going exceedingly well; a little too well. The night was still “young” in fact. Since we all take the bus to work in the morning, we decided to drive Frosty to the lab where he would be stored until he needed to be transported yet again to the Christmas party. We all had our reservations about the moving him part, but we had no choice. We took many pictures beforehand to document how awesome he looked in case something happened.
Frosty (before)
The rest is a tragic story. Frosty didn’t survive the car trip to the lab. He had severe structural damage that even 5 tubs of Betty Crocker’s frosting could not fix at 12 am in the morning. I was so disappointed. We, with the advice of the others in the lab the next day, spun him off as Frosty the half-melted snowman due to the unseasonably warm weather at the time. We fashioned a paper sun and positioned it next to our leaning tower of Frosty right next to his “before” picture. Although, not as aesthetically pleasing as he once was, Frosty sure was delicious. We even tied with another lab for “most creative” dessert, but honestly, the fertilization lab we tied with always does the egg and sperm theme, so to tie with them for most creative was a let-down.
Frosty, the half-melted snowman
I guess if you label something as Part I, you should probably have a Part II… I promise the rest of the Christmas series is not a modern rendition of "A Christmas Carol."
Usually by Dec 1st, I have orchestrated a Christmas cookie party, festively decorated the home, blasted the holiday tunes, and sent out the Christmas cards way in advance of any US postal service backlog. This year however, to no surprise to those who actually read the first paragraph, I did nothing. It didn’t help that we were getting 70 degree weather here in the Carolinas, so to someone used to 3 ft of cold powdery stuff…wearing tank tops, flip flops, and basking in the sun outside didn’t have me anxiously waiting for Santa Clause (not that I am at all complaining about the glorious weather!) To all my faithful friends who didn’t receive lovely glittery cards, I am sorry but I just couldn’t get myself to do it (nothing personal and I hope you don’t remove me from your own lists next year). I did manage to set up a tiny tree, but that took me about three weeks to fully undertake. I also participated in the departmental holiday dessert bake-off which is the closest thing to Christmasy that I can claim. This leads me into my story of sweet disaster…
In lieu of the usual Christmas cookie party, I participated in the lab dessert contest for our departmental holiday party. Now this is a big deal, as the boss made sure to point out this fact during lab meeting. My self, along with two other women in the lab decided to take on this lofty task of creating the best holiday dessert the department has ever seen. After tossing around a number of ideas, we decided on reconstructing a three-dimensional version of Frosty the Snowman. Most sane people would realize this is next to impossible, but alas, we are scientists, nothing is impossible. Now, I have to let you know that we were doing this all free-hand, no molds, no recipes, just our pure creative geniuses.
We put Frosty together, frosted and decorated him. He ends up being about 1.5-2 feet high, we inserted a 50 mL pipette down the center for structural stability. His midsection was a little heavy and leaned slightly forward, as if he was on roids with a barrel chest, but nothing too concerning (at least at the time). Everything was going exceedingly well; a little too well. The night was still “young” in fact. Since we all take the bus to work in the morning, we decided to drive Frosty to the lab where he would be stored until he needed to be transported yet again to the Christmas party. We all had our reservations about the moving him part, but we had no choice. We took many pictures beforehand to document how awesome he looked in case something happened.
Frosty (before)
The rest is a tragic story. Frosty didn’t survive the car trip to the lab. He had severe structural damage that even 5 tubs of Betty Crocker’s frosting could not fix at 12 am in the morning. I was so disappointed. We, with the advice of the others in the lab the next day, spun him off as Frosty the half-melted snowman due to the unseasonably warm weather at the time. We fashioned a paper sun and positioned it next to our leaning tower of Frosty right next to his “before” picture. Although, not as aesthetically pleasing as he once was, Frosty sure was delicious. We even tied with another lab for “most creative” dessert, but honestly, the fertilization lab we tied with always does the egg and sperm theme, so to tie with them for most creative was a let-down.
Frosty, the half-melted snowman
I guess if you label something as Part I, you should probably have a Part II… I promise the rest of the Christmas series is not a modern rendition of "A Christmas Carol."
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