We have worked extensively on the reproductive organs of the flower. Every time we talk about ovaries and stamens and pistels, I think of Reproduction from Grease 2.

Reproduction, reproduction!
Put your pollen tube to work.
Reproduction, reproduction!
Make my stamen go berserk.
Reproduction!
I don’t think they even know what a pistil is!
I got your pistil right here…
Where does the pollen go?

It makes me giggle. Yes, I like musicals. Bite me!

I found the commencement info for graduation in May. I am so excited, and still, so sad. Many wheels turn simultaneously. Moving, quitting my job, graduation, beginning grad school, finding a new house in Portland, finding a job. It feels overwhelming. But sustainable, with careful balancing and calm focus. But, this is me - Erica - queen of “I’ve got stuff to do” - the one who gets very stressed about being stressed and as such, gets nothing done except stressing. Ahh…the Catch 22 of my life. I’m trying to get better - lists… lists are my friend.

Speaking of graduation and whatnot. I plan on having some people to the casa the night of the 12th. I don’t know what time and I really don’t have solid plans, but if you are out there and you have the time, you are more than welcome. This is the last gathering for us. We won’t have time for another, as far as I can tell. Before I head to Seton Hill, I have to write something (I’m still trying to find out exactly “what” but …..well…. maybe they will actually send me the information), so there is my time in June. Then I head up there for almost a week. Then we move. Shit. That’s a lot to do

I think I bombed the lab practical last night. Sometimes, I just hate Botany.

In other news, I know you’ve heard about that looney that shot up the campus in Virginia. Everyone knows that the country mourns for those kids and the professors, and I do as well. What I find a touch disturbing is how the media ran away with it, to such a degree, that it eclipsed all the other news in the country. I don’t argue the gravity of that story, but there are other things going on in the world that warrant that same kind of attention (and even more so in many cases). The media frenzies, the sharks in bloody water, freaks me out. I watch the news constantly. I switch channels. I get frustrated. I want to throw the remote, because there are things going on in this country that need to be talked about. Two things come to mind: the Alberto Gonzales testimony on capital hill and the ruling on partial birth abortions.

FYI kiddies - I’m a very strong believer in the right to choose. In 1999 I had a late term abortion (2nd trimester). Why? For a lot of reasons, most especially because of my drug use and inability to bring a child into the world for a second time. Yes, kiddies, I had this done after I gave birth to my birthdaughter. Everyone thinks that my choice to give my birthdaughter up for adoption was noble and “right.” At sixteen, I didn’t know noble from the Nobel Peace Prize. It’s something I did, like moving with the current of a river. It didn’t feel wrong to carry her to term, to relinquish my rights, to give her the family she really deserved. That process devastated me. When I got pregnant the 2nd time, I couldn’t do it. The father left me to deal with the situation on my own. And I did. Alone. My friends helped as much as they could, but I didn’t tell a lot of people about it. I’d retreated into a group of amazing women who supported me and kept me sane. And the day after the abortion, I went to the birthday party of a girl I was interested in, and fell asleep in a good friend’s arms. It’s a shame she and I never dated, but that’s another story. All these years later, and I believe that I made the right choice — and I had that choice. It’s a slippery slope, this ruling. I ask you - would a child, subjected to hard drugs, smoking and alcohol in the womb have been a viable child? You could argue that my poor life choices were to blame for what ever issues the child may have had if I had carried it to term. I can’t take care of myself sometimes, even today. I know I’d never have been able to take care of a drug-addled child. So I aborted it - and I never looked back. I’m not governeed by Christian religious convictions. I don’t think that god will send me to hell for what I’ve done. So, that arguement is lost on me. Without religous morality, what arguement is there? Isn’t this whole issue perverted by religion? The whole thing makes my head spin.

Sorry… I didn’t mean to go off on a rant there. I’m just tired of the “right to life” movement. What about my right to life? Oh… fuck it.

In other news - I am wearing my favorite shirt (picture to follow) and I am drinking coffee. And my couch is the happiest place on earth.

And on a lighter note — my gift to you — pictures!

Voodoo takes a bad picture. He always moves… but he’s cute.