I had a bio lab that was all about microscopy.  That probably sounds boring.  If it weren’t for the fact that I’m in the research-stream version of my cell and developmental biology class, it probably would have been.  As it happens, though, I am.  The awesome thing about being in the research stream is that you have really small classes, and Really Sweet Toys.  While the other classes have to use the crappy old microscopes, we get to use Totally Freaking Awesome microscopes.  Where they get an old jury-rigged TV setup for fluorescence microscopy, we get Real Lab Equipment.  Bliss, I tell you.  Sheer bliss.  So anyway, my lab partner and I spent a good portion of our morning geeking out over the gear.

Okay, so we were only looking at tomato leaves (and the fine hairs on the stems), but it was still pretty nice to work with microscopes that you can actually adjust properly.  Refreshing.  Also, it is rumoured that in a later lab this term, we get to remove the ovaries from a female Drosophila melanogaster, commonly known as a fruit fly.  I have no idea how that’s going to work, but I’m hoping for a Honey-I-Shrunk-The-Kids sort of scenario.

In pottery news, I have a couple of pieces from last week to show off:

Jonathan immediately pointed out that the shape of the handle is reminiscent of the Pompeii mummies, so this shall henceforth be known as the Pompeii mug.  I can’t unsee it.

The interesting thing about this simple yellow cup is that I used no yellow glazes on it.  The yellow colour is actually from an interaction between two brown glazes.  It’s also (in my opinion) a nicer colour than any of the actual yellow glazes.

I learned a new skill tonight, too - I trimmed my first foot:

I’m so pleased with it that I think from now on I’ll be trimming all of my wheel-thrown pieces.  It makes such a big difference to the look of the piece.

Finally, I tried my hand at a larger bowl than any I’d attempted before.  The elbow got a bit thin, though, and it started to collapse.  I managed to collar it just enough to rescue the piece, but it’s a bit lopsided.  Still, I liked it well enough to set it aside to be trimmed next week.

…but I just can’t resist the cookies.

Canadian Blood Services is doing a big drive right now because of flu season stuff - I guess they need extra at this time of year.  Anyway, it was time for my regular bimonthly donation, so in I went.  Apparently Thursday night is pizza night.  Who knew?  I guess they get a lot of students on Thursdays because of this.  I’ve always gone in the afternoon before, and I highly recommend avoiding the 5-7pm range.

One of these days I’ll successfully get a shot of them inserting the needle.  I know a lot of people avoid watching needles go in to their skin because it freaks them out or something, but I’m honestly fascinated that this great huge PIPE can go into my vein, and that my body can then close up the hole within minutes of the needle’s removal.

The big excitement of the evening: I was a gusher.  It took 4 minutes and 30 seconds for me to fill the bag.  Apparently 5 minutes is considered quick.  I suggested that they should keep track and give out prizes for the fastest donations every month, but I don’t think they were going for it.  They did tell me that most men are VERY pleased with themselves when told that they were quick.  I guess it’s one of the few times in a man’s life when speed in bodily functions is considered a positive trait

Last night I became a cyborg.

Electrodes in my hair.  Awesome.  Electrode gunk not washing out in the morning shower, less awesome.  Itchy rashy bits from tape, totally not awesome.

Still, I did have this totally sweet control panel:

I don’t know what any of this stuff does (well, aside from the gloves XD), but it was right outside my room.

My phone home finger gave me awesome powers

…which I used to gain access to a massive supply of totally inadequate blankets.  Being a cyborg is chilly work.

So much of what goes on in the insect world would make brilliant fodder for bad horror movies.

These incredibly tiny parasitic wasps

emerge from the mummified remains of a caterpillar.

That’s right, they all wiggle out of those little holes.  Sam Raimi’s got nothing on evolution.

Since all of the Gypsy moth caterpillars from the greenhouse experiment are now dead or pupated, I’ve been organizing things.  First I took all of the emerged moths out of the freezer and put them into little glass vials.

Obviously they’re all dead - the ones that say “dead” are the ones that didn’t make it to adulthood, but died along the way.  Now I’m working on organizing the lab’s parasitoid collection (hence the horror movie intro).  I’m taking this

and turning it into this

which entails dividing into species and then subdividing into gender, and finally subdividing once more into host groups. A large part of this work had previously been done, and then partially undone in the effort to identify species and subspecies, so it’s not as though I just have a jumble of random wasps to work with.  I’d have offed myself by now.

All of this seems particularly appropriate right now with the wasp bloom we’re experiencing in Toronto this summer.