Holy Jesus I’m going to graduate

So, these past few weeks have been spent meeting with beloved biology advisor Theresa Del Vecchio (who I seriously owe cookies or something to, my god), who has been tirelessly wrestling with Oracle Peoplesoft (LOUIE, NAU’s enrollment et al. management system) so that it recognizes my academic requirements as being met. The issue being that my writing class, BIO365W, is not on my catalog year for one, and for two the class has literally not been offered before the Fall 2014 semester. So, according to LOUIE, my junior-level writing requirement was not met.

Sounds like an easy enough of a fix, but each time Theresa would substitute 365W for 326LW, LOUIE would get confused and then go on to say that while my writing requirement was satisfied, that I was missing a SINGLE biology credit (when in actuality I have MORE than enough). Back and forth, LOUIE kept flip-flopping between these two states of academic requirement dissatisfaction.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, today she finally nailed it down. It’s funny, because as convenient as the computer software makes the process of signing up for classes, it still lacks the uniquely human trait of sentience. Any human advisor would have looked at my transcript and thought “yeah, while a little unusual, this is fine, all the requirements are met, these classes are viable alternatives and there is no issue preventing Miss Chapman from graduating,” while LOUIE instead saw a scenario that went against everything it was ever taught.

Anyway, BEHOLD!

dat GPA
dat GPA

I am so gross.


I am oozing virulent goo from my mucous membranes.

Rhinovirus infection, nasopharyngitis, acute coryza – whatever you wish to call it, it appears I am sick with the common cold.

I guess a positive of being sick with a cold is that a common side effect is a loss of appetite. If nothing else, it’s convenient – I have almost zero desire to eat for the vast majority of the day. I can go all day without a single meal and my body hardly even complains. I’m saving time and money! Of course, anorexia is bad, so I am forcing small meals down in the evening… but the convenience cannot be ignored!

This post serves as a vehicle for my bitching, and not much else. Sorry guys.

I am super gross.

Adventures with Pastebin

I’ve taken it upon myself to go through some random entries on Pastebin to see if I am able to find anything interesting. I’ve pulled these mostly from the “public pastes” section which updates fairly continuously, but there is one from the “trending pastes” area.

Here’s what appears to be an apology to some girl; it reads like a high schooler wrote it:



Here’s another love note:


Someone’s Pokemon party sheet:


Someone’s message pertaining to reporting a douchebag on Facebook:


A whole to-do on #opKKK, this was from the “trending” page (there is much more than I am displaying here):



Fun stuff.

We are all dope fiends.

This is actually something I had written up several months ago, but I still feel it is worth sharing, so here goes:

At the base level of every human’s psyche is a raging dope fiend.

Think about it. Literally EVERYTHING WE DO is in pursuit of that teeny, tiny, little reward we get from doing something that elicits the response. That little rush of dopamine et al in the brain. Feeling hungry? Eat a snack. Dopamine! Yay! This is your brain’s way of saying “this is good; keep doing this please”. Everything we do in life is in pursuit of that little rush, that little micro-reward.

Technology has advanced over the ages to give us more of these micro-rewards for less effort. First, we had the printed media – books, newspapers and such. You read, you turn the page – yay! Turning the page is satisfying; it gives you a little reward. Then we got the radio. You turn the dials and your favorite music comes on – yay! Next up is television. You surf through channels and find your favorite show – yay! Now we have computers. Computers are very, VERY big “yay!” machines. Each button you click elicits a “yay” response; it responds, it does what it is supposed to do, and that is satisfying. Each Internet link you click (that works, of course) gives you some sort of reward (most of the time), like a funny cat picture, or an awesome song or video, or a sweet videogame, or an interesting news article, or a solution to your homework. To expand on this, think about when you click on a link and it DOESN’T work, when you receive a 404 error or the like. Ever realize how irrationally angry you can get, if only just for a split second? You didn’t get your expected fix; it’s like you got bunk dope from your dealer.

We’re growing so accustomed to this little-effort little-reward system technology has put into place for us, and I can’t help but wonder what’s next. Now, I’m not saying it’s some sort of sinister conspiracy or anything. As I said before, literally everything we do in our existence is in pursuit of this little dope rush. Social interactions, eating, accomplishing any sort of goal no matter how big (getting a paper published) or small (getting out of bed in the morning), sex, making a purchase, making a sale, evading danger, sleeping well, scratching that one really hard-to-reach scratch on your back, blowing your nose… the list truly goes on and on.

Life is all about that little dope rush, whether you like it or not. It’s what has kept us alive and it is what keeps us alive. Now, of course, some people want even MORE dope, and because of that they will use drugs, either occasionally, very often, or somewhere in between. Honestly, that’s fair enough. We’re all after the same thing, anyway.

Sex is weird.

Oh, I bet I have your attention now, huh? Let’s get started.

Sex is weird.

I mean, I guess it’s kind of obvious, even to people who have never engaged in sex of any sort. Some might argue that it’s even weirder to sex-naive individuals but I think you can only really appreciate the weirdness of sex after having had it once or twice.

But, sex is really fucking weird. Let’s think about it for a moment. Let’s think about sex in general.

It’s a deposition of genetic material from, typically but not always, a male to a conspecific female. That is literally all sex serves to do. It serves to exchange bits of genetic information, kind of like an internet handshake, only… well, not. The bits of genetic information get together and make sure everything is a-okay before furthering communication i.e. continuing the reproductive cycle. Even then, things could (and frequently do) go wrong.

Reproduction is a very difficult process, honestly. Lethal genotypes are extremely common – mismatched chromosomes are the leading cause of miscarriage.

So here we are, dedicating insane amounts of energy to a process whose odds aren’t necessarily in its favor. We invest so much in sex, biologically and psychologically speaking. Huge amounts of resources are required to upkeep our sexual facilities – women require a certain percentage of fat, typically around 10% of their body mass, to menstruate and maintain a regular menstrual cycle. Then there’s the expenditure involved in seeking a mate that’s actually willing to copulate with you. How much time do you think we’ve all spent just trying to court someone, only for it to not work out? Yet, we do it anyway. We are programmed to pretty much drop everything we are doing if sex is on the table.

Then, of course, we are blessed – or cursed, depending on how you approach it – with higher thinking capabilities. While in the animal kingdom there are “simpler” methods of sexual reproduction, like birds for example, where they do a little courtship dance, they rub their bits against each other, and the deed is done. The actual copulation lasts a few seconds. Other animals will mate for huge amounts of time, but for the most part, it’s a very quick and dirty process in the animal kingdom. It makes sense that it would be. The quicker you can deposit your genetic information, the more quickly you can get the hell out of there, lest you be vulnerable to predators.

Then there’s us and our cognitive abilities. Oh, brother. We take courtship to a whole new level. There’s the ritual of dating that most of us have participated in at one point or another in their lives, getting to know someone well enough so that maybe you’ll both agree to touch your mouths together. Maybe, if you’re really comfortable with them, you’ll agree to reveal your naked body to them – a non-issue in the animal kingdom – so that maybe you will allow each other to touch each other, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get to that magical point where you will rub your meat bits against each other; in typical heterosexual cases you are literally sticking a meat tube into a moist meat cavity. Lovely. If you’re lucky, you’ll do that for long enough to trigger a chemical reaction in both participants, a reaction that has physical and psychological ramifications. Then sometimes you go to sleep.

What the fuck?

It gets even crazier! Sometimes the whole courtship thing is skipped entirely, and for whatever reason, two consenting humans will simply decide to have sex with each other without knowing each other at all! It goes against everything we are conditioned to, yet it happens all the time. Sometimes the people involved are doing little more than, for all intents and purposes, using another human being as a masturbatory aid, with no real regard to the other participant’s satisfaction in the ordeal. Yet it happens all. The. Time.

Finally, to top it all off, we exploit our own bodies. We’ve figured out how to get all the happy fun times out of sex, without any of the negative consequences. Babies? Pfff! That’s what any of the NUMEROUS methods of contraception we have discovered are for! Some of them involve physically preventing the genetic information from coming into contact with one another, while other methods involve ingesting molecules that manipulate your body’s reproductive functionality. Some methods are simply taking advantage of your own reproductive cycle, because us smart monkeys have that shit figured out.

Now, we aren’t the only species known to use contraception. Male langur monkeys have been observed eating papaya, which contains chemicals which act as contraceptive agents to them.

It all sounds like so much work in addition to being wildly counterproductive (since the point of sex is to reproduce), yet here we are. We are extremely sexual beings. We have changed the role of sex in our species from being solely about reproduction to being mostly about pleasure and the exploitation of our own and other’s bodies. Sometimes our compassionate and altruistic traits reveal themselves, and we go about this meat-maneuvering activity with the other person’s pleasure in mind, making sure that their organic love buttons are being pressed in ways that they enjoy, in ways that may trigger that chemical reaction, that fixed action pattern lying anxiously in wait in our brains. The fixed action pattern that can leave you pregnant or impregnating, psychologically attached to the sexual partner, or both.

Most of the time, however, we just get our rocks off and go about our day. We are selfish creatures always looking for a cheap high. Sex, orgasm, feelings of love and intimacy are all the result of chemical reactions in our brains. We feel compassionate and altruistic toward certain people because it gets ourselves high. We are raging dope fiends, always looking for our next fix.

Might as well get your fix with someone else.

Guess who’s back?

It’s been a little over a year since I scrapped the whole damn site. Too many security vulnerabilities associated with outdated software that was too much of a pain in my ass to fix piece-by-piece, so, I’ve just started from scratch after backing up about 20 gigabytes worth of old data dating back to when I was 14.

I’m 22 now, for those wondering. Twenty-two years old and two semesters away from graduating with my biology degree and, given any luck, at least one publication with my name on it. Yup, I’m doing the science thing for real. Crazy, right? I’m like, kinda succeeding and stuff. Neat! For a while I just thought I was gonna rot on the Internet living with my parents for another ten years or so. Thank heavens that’s not the case!

In some ways, nothing has changed, while in other ways, everything has changed. I’m certainly not the same person I was a year ago when I flipped the proverbial tables and scrapped everything. I’m also definitely not the same person I was when I first started this website, shortly after my 14th birthday. But at the same time, veterans who have managed to stick around this long (so, basically, a few of my friends) will be able to tell that I’m still the same Cat, just leveled up.

From here, I suppose I’ll post my latest Big Post that I’ve posted on social media elsewhere. It’s a biggun, and it’s a decent update for y’all who care about my life and such.

Disclaimer: This is very long and personal and I will not be offended if you choose not to read it.

I suppose it’s been long enough and that I can tell y’all what’s been going on in my life. Many of you already know what I’m about to say, many of you don’t. I’d also like to share an epiphany of sorts that I’ve had recently because, well, I want to write it all down, and maybe it’ll help someone out. Maybe I take myself too seriously. Maybe it’s all just a bunch of bullshit. You don’t have to agree with any of it. I’ll just write it out and let you be the judge.

I do not have a significant other, a special someone, in my life anymore. It’s okay. Please don’t be sad for me. It was truly, honestly, a mutual decision, and we are still good friends. I promise. I know, a mutual breakup has probably happened, like, five times in the whole of human history, but that’s what it was for us. We decided to “quit while we were ahead” so to speak, so that we didn’t end up hating each other. This happened a while ago.

It was definitely the right choice for the both of us.

NOW, before I go ANY FURTHER, if ANY OF YOU MOTHERFUCKERS TAKES THIS AS AN INVITATION TO MESSAGE ME AND FLIRT WITH ME AND TRY TO GET IN MY PANTS, STOP IT RIGHT NOW. I WASN’T INTERESTED BEFORE, AND I AM NOT INTERESTED NOW. DO. NOT. DO IT. If you are a potential mate, I WILL LET YOU KNOW MYSELF. So, if you haven’t heard from me, if I haven’t come running to you begging for your love and affection… PLEASE get the message and hang up the fucking phone.

Sorry, that was harsh, but believe me, it was necessary. Moving on.

My point is that I’m going to “do me”. To be perfectly honest with you, I haven’t really been truly single for the past seven years of my life. I’ve gone virtually my entire adult life so far with someone to depend on for emotional, social, and sexual validation. I’ve never really experienced life as me, by myself, as an adult.

This is where my little revelation comes into play. I’m not going to assume that this applies to anybody but me as that would be a really egotistical thing to do. But this way of thinking is working for me, and I’d like to share it on the off-chance that someone else enjoys reading it, or, better yet, someone gets some sort of helpful insight from it.

As much as I might try to hide it, I’m still human, and I still have basic egotistical needs. Specifically, I need validation. In my mind, I picture a little triangle, equilateral of course as each need is of equal value, and with each point representing a different need. The needs are, as I alluded to earlier: sexual, social, and emotional.

Social: I need to have somebody to talk to, to exchange ideas with, someone to keep me company. I need validation of my presence within a community.

Emotional: I need to feel loved and cared for by someone.

Sexual: I need to feel attractive to somebody, I need to feel wanted.

What I had been inadvertently doing was, for the past ~7 years, relying on ONE person to fulfill all of these needs, to give me all three types of validation. I mean, why wouldn’t I? It was easy, and it kept me satisfied. Because I was doing this, I was also subconsciously basing my own sense of identity on my being with them, if that makes any sense. It wasn’t their fault, not at all. This was all me. I just wasn’t even aware that I was doing it.

So, needless to say, when I found myself without anybody, I experienced a bout of soul-crushing sadness. I had never felt so alone, so empty. I wasn’t receiving any validation like I was used to, and of course I’m the type to hole up and shy away before reaching out for help. I don’t like people knowing about my problems. I want everybody to believe everything is fine, all the time.

So I remained sad. I reached out to the wrong people and got my feelings hurt. Then, after some few days, something “clicked”.

I am surrounded by wonderful, loving, compassionate, beautiful people – my friends, family, even (and at times ESPECIALLY) colleagues – who give me all the emotional and social validation I could EVER need.

All this leaves “empty” is sexual validation, which, in my opinion, is the most shallow of the needs (but again, equally important), and also the most easy to fulfill. Don’t get your hopes up – I’m not gonna suddenly become extremely promiscuous, as stated above. But the other needs require some amount of investment by another party; emotional validation requires someone else to ACTIVELY care about you and empathize with you, while social validation requires someone to ACTIVELY care (or pretend to care) about what you have to say, what you contribute to your community, and spending time with you. Does that make sense? Sexual validation just requires someone to let you know that they find you to be an attractive specimen. Hardly any investment required. Post a sexy picture to Facebook and let the “likes” roll in –bam, sexual validation. It’s easy.

With that being said, I would like to thank my wonderful friends and family for always being there for me. I lack the capacity to properly express how much I love and appreciate you guys. Even when I’ve been shitty, you’ve been solid. I cannot thank you enough for that. I love you guys so much.

There you have it, my little coping mechanism for finally being single. Life is funny, life is strange, but life is also wonderful and full of surprises. Life is good.

I’m doing me. I am happy.