Fluffy But Passing Micros

At the beginning of this semester, my microbiology lecturer announced that our class was to be her new guinea pigs. She had come up with a new form of lecturing and she was going to try it on us, then submit a paper regarding the applicability of this teaching method. At the time I thought it was a joke and swiftly moved on with my life. Over the past few weeks however, I have noticed that I am most definitely a guinea pig.

This means that my class is now situated in a computer lab where we have instant access to all relevant reading materials, we often form groups to discuss whatever boring as hell paper she has given us and I am told that as of next week we will be receiving video phone calls from respected microbiologists to tell us about said boring papers.

As if this wasn’t enough it seems that one of the things she has done in her new teaching style is to award virtual badges for tasks well done. These badges can then be used to negotiate marks for us borderline cases who are always skirting the ridge of losing a friend as well as for those people who have 29 less friends but still need an extra percentage to reach that 80%.

This has turned my class into a complete laughing stock. Everyone is trying literally everything in their power to gain badges without much thought as to how funny this must be for my lecturer. We have become her minions and if she had to tell us to jump for a badge, we would go out and by a trampoline to make sure we got the highest. And I have a sneaky suspicion that Prof is sitting in her office and having a good laugh at all of us idiots.

So today, in an attempt to get a badge, I spent hours combing through 9Gag, YouTube and even a couple scientific journals in order to find something semi-interesting to post on the Facebook page (apparently we get badges for interaction) and when I eventually found something, I rushed over to the page only to find that it was already there and had in fact been posted by someone else.

It is official, my completely unfounded hate for the girl who got there first is evidence that not only have I been a guinea pig in someone’s social experiment but I have fallen for it hook, line and sinker. Problem is that because I am so incredibly stupid, and have a wonderful social life, I have absolutely no choice but to continue being a guinea pig, get back onto 9Gag, and beat the bitch to it.

Just call me fluffy.

Drowning My Ideas

It has come to my attention that over the last couple of years I have often come up with solutions to life; Flashing Tampons, marrying Jacob Zuma and various other ridiculous ideas. The problem is that nobody else seems to think that they are nearly as wonderful as I do. Well this one is going to change your mind. This time I am going to start a trend.

Actually, in all honesty, you are probably all going to read this blog, (hopefully) have a little giggle and then immediately forget everything that I said. But, because I believe that one day my silly little blog will change someone’s life I am going to tell you about my new great invention anyway.

Okay, so the problem is that I always have my most creative moments when I am in the shower where I cannot write them down. Then by the time I have gotten out of the shower, got dressed and sat down at my computer to write, all my awesome ideas are gone. This has been happening for a while now (seems my memory is on the blink) and I have been trying to find a solution that doesn’t involve me hoping out mid-shower, running around my flat butt-naked looking for a pen to scribble down my idea thus terrifying my neighbours, my sister and worst of all her guests.

So what is my grand solution to a problem which NOBODY else cares about? Well the solution is easy, I have decided that I am going to go out and buy a couple white board markers, store them in my shower and then when I have an AHA! moment (it’s bound to happen eventually) I can just scribble it on the wall of my shower.

In the interest of full disclosure I should inform you all that this morning was my first shower with the markers. I spent about fifteen minutes (3x the length of my normal shower) standing in the shower waiting for an idea to strike. When it eventually did I quickly scribbled down some notes on the idea and then rushed the rest of my shower. I quickly got out and sat down to my computer to write. It was at this point that I realized just how lucky you all are that I share my wonderful ideas with you.

I finished writing, took a deep breath, looked around and realized that I was sitting at my desk, still butt-naked, still terrifying my neighbours, and covered in the ink of what turned out to be a permanent marker. Maybe I should just stick to being JZ’s housewife. 

PS. Why is it that Jacob Zuma is always in the shower stories?