I just made myself a ACDC-style quesadilla this evening, as made by Will. All I needed was some brown rice and some sour cream and several people to help me stack dishes in an absurd convoluted contraption in the center of the table, and it would have been complete. I didn't realize how much I missed them. You try living off the things for four years, and then not eating them for three. Here, for those of you who know what an ACDC quesadilla taste like, is a memory.

Patty's Poetry

On this day of Patrick, it's best to drink with friends
Because they'll carry you back home when the evening ends
Car bombs, Bulmars, Guinness, and don't forget the whiskey
Just remember to stop when you're still feeling frisky
Don't forget to bring a coat, else you'll start to shiver
My heart is with my friends, but St. Patty's got my liver

Itchy

I feel like I have 10,000 things I should be doing, but I can't do any of them at this moment, and it makes me feel itchy. I got offered a slot to swimtest, audition, and interview at Sea World. In San Diego. I've managed to arrange the days off to pull this off (narrowly) with little sleep and lots of flying, and I really want to try to do it, but I can't buy a plane ticket until I know what day I'll be able to swim test, where I'll stay, or what I'll do if they actually decide to hire me. All this makes me antsy, itchy, and paranoid, and there is nothing I can do about it at this moment except watch Battlestar Galactica.

I tackled a turtle

It's true. A little 430lb turtle. A little 430lb turtle in water. It was time for our green sea turtle's annual physical, and I was one of the 4 people in the water yesterday, so we had the joyful task of catching, restraining, lifting, immobilizing, and returning our irate reptile. Holding an annoyed animal that weighs twice as much as you is quite difficult, even if she is so fat that she's round.