This week I went on my first real field collection. After transferring several huge demon-like wasps from my net to smaller vials, I am proud to say I was not as lily-livered as I thought I would be. Apart from being enthralled by a dung beetle – complete with dung! – and a katydid with astonishing crypsis, I coolly avoided walking into a fire ant mound and a giant orb-weaver’s tree-spanning web (the June bugs did not fare as well as I did).
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| Katydid with cryptic leaf-like camouflage. |
My life isn’t all edible rainbows and unicorns, though. Regardless of the numerous Chinese takeout containers clearly marking my gumption for cooking (or lack thereof), I’m enjoying my daily repast of fresh blackberries and strawberries along with Spiderman Pop-tarts and blueberry muffins. My parents would be so proud.
Now, I know my dad is a trustworthy, honorable man, so I believe him when he says he invented the question mark… but I’m not so sure about these “movie reviews” he claims to write. I think it might just be a way for Pops to rationalize all the TV he watches.
And me? If I’m not spending my free time studying biology or searching Expedia for inexpensive plane tickets to Dublin or Moscow, I can be found watching a few episodes of King of the Hill or Pawn Stars—although I’ll leave the eight-hour Dragnet marathons to my dad.
With jazz on the radio, an almost empty cup of espresso in my hand, and napkins (haphazardly inscribed with graphs and formulas) scattered about, the atmosphere here certainly seems transcendent of Texas. Thank the gods for Starbucks.
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