Line-Art Therapy

Somewhere in my history I fell out of the habit of asking people for help. I think this is a trait my parents encouraged as they saw it as a type of independence and they knew that as an only-child, I was going to need to fend for myself a great deal. Far be it from me to judge my parents' techniques, but this one could have used some addendums. For instance:
You CAN ask for help or support when...
...you've made a total fool of yourself.
...you're about to fail at life.
...you're about to fail at school.
...dealing with annoying relatives.

So what do you do when you ask for help too late?

From Senior Year right before finals:
"I'm in a peculiar situation. I've never (in the whole of my life) asked a teacher for an extension on a paper or project. I'm currently doing a semester-long special studies that's a little outside my realm of experience, and it is battering me. I figured that since I'd basically been totally out of touch for a week (what with a needle in my foot and surgery and Vicodin and all that), it would be reasonable to ask for a 5-7 day extension for medical reasons.

'Course, my class dean is completely on some sort of bizarre power trip. She won't grant extensions for medical reasons (I have a friend who was just diagnosed with esophogeal cancer and is currently on 12 pills a day and the dean won't give her an extension) and says that a note from the hospital and health services isn't enough. She says she'll talk to my major advisor (who is currently in a state of HATE), and see what SHE says. That means, I won't know about an extension until Monday. For a paper that was technically due on Friday (yesterday). The following actions have run through my mind:
- jump in front a car
- have a tree branch drop on me all of a sudden
- use a voodoo doll on the dean (which won't get me an extension but will make me feel better)

Technically, the first two wouldn't get me an extension either... the dean has basically said no medical reason is ever good enough to get an extension. It's your fault for not looking both ways when you started to cross the street..."

Obsession

So, once upon a time, a bazillion years ago (read: 15 years), I had dreams. Big dreams. I was going to go to Harvard and become a Doctor. A pediatrician. I was going to be rich, and well-off. I'd be a globe-trotter and join Doctors-without-borders. I would make the world a better place.

But sometime around 9th grade, I derailed from my track of supreme goodness and wealth and suddenly became entirely lost. The thing was, I completely sucked at Bio Enriched and I will never, ever forgive Mrs. Koza for that lost year of High School Biology. And it seemed unlikely that I could become a doctor when my highschool GPA was lower than a limbo stick half an hour into the game.
It probably also didn't help that I found cellular biology to be terribly boring. And also that I detest small children. It would be hard to be a pediatrician when you hate small children. Why do I hate small children? I'll tell you why. They're sticky.

But we're getting off topic here.

I had thought that due to my close proximity to failure in high school biology, there was no living way I could be a biological scientist of any caliber. I lost all direction.

Well, honestly, when I got to college, things didn't change too much. I failed intro bio as well (ok, I didn't fail. I got a C, but that's pretty close, right?). Even so, I forged ahead and realized my true love had ambition had been staring me in the face for many years, in the form of my beloved fish pond. I adore algae. Just ask anyone who knows me in person. Rarely does a day go by when the topic of fish does NOT enter a conversation.

At college, our geek dances were supplemented by my "Eelgrass" and "Eutrophication" dance.

This summer, I interned at NOAA, studying microscopic fish larvae. Which was ok. Not terribly interesting. Personally, I'd prefer to be studying something I can see with my own two eyes. But the things I DID see!

Those of you who are familiar with fish identification (which is probably not really all that many of you), will know Michael Fahay as "The MAN of Fish Identification". I got to meet the man. Not only that, I got the opportunity to watch him ID fish. While blindfolded. The man counted myomeres! The man counted teeth!

Excuse me while I go swoon in a corner.

Anyhow, he was Friggin' AMAZING.

I believe the point of all this was to admit that I like fish. I mean, I really like fish. I visit aquariums. I visit pet stores just to look at the fish. I visit Koi Pond stores.

I have a Koi Pond myself. With 13 little fishies in it. 3 of whom are black, 1 which is all orange. I could go on, but I think you get the general idea. I really want another, but it's best to put a cap on these expensive habits. Do you have any idea how pricey a Japanese-bred Koi is?

So of course, it is fairly distressing when your fish attempts suicide. We saved him though. And he lives in peace and harmony with the other fish.



His name is Lemon Zest