BBC books

The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books here. How do your reading habits stack up?

Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Look at the list and then number the ones you have read, so by the end, you have your count. Tag other book nerds.

1 Pride and Prejudice -1
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien-2
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte -3
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling - 4
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee - 5
6 The Bible - I've read the first half
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte - 6
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens - 7
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott - 8
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller - 9
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare - All of them? Now that is just B.S. Lame.
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier - 10
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien - 11
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger - 12
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger -
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell - 13
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald - 14
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy -
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams -
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky -15
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck - I've read half
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll -
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame - 16
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy - 17
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens -
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis - 18
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen -
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis - 19 (why is this on here twice?)
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini -
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres -
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden - 20
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne -
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell - 21
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown - 22
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez - 23
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving -
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins -It's on my list
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery -24
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood -
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding - 25
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan -26
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel - 27
52 Dune - Frank Herbert - 28
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons -
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen - 29
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens -
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley -
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night - Mark Haddon - 30
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez -31
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck - 32
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov -33
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold -
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas-
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac -
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding - 34 Why is this horrible book on here??
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie-
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville -
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker -
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett -
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce -
76 The Inferno – Dante - 35
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray - 36 some parts I loved, a lot of parts I hated
80 Possession - AS Byatt –
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens -
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell -
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker - 37
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White - 38
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - 39 (or at least the Hound of the Baskervilles, so I think it counts)
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad -
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery - 40 In spanish boo ya!
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams -
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole - 41
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare - 42
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory -43
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo -

Woo hoo. I'd think 43 is pretty good. And I wasn't counting those that I could not really remember or had only read part of. I always knew I was above average. Just kidding. Actually I am pretty impressed with myself. I wonder if my dad or English teacher auntie can rival me. Anyone who reads, send me a list of the one's you've read, I'm curious. Or you can post it in the comments, which you can do anonymously (for you Old People), but sign your name or something. Too bad this list is mostly biased towards British authors.

1. Dad has read 40, and is in the middle of reading Les Miserables and Lolita. So we shall give him the score of 42 in good confidence.
2. Auntie has read 41. Pretty close. And by the way, I'd vote for Hamlet over Macbeth any day.
3. My BFF, Spanky Bottoms, (her prostitute name according to one randomly generated name thingy, but a classy one no doubt) has a count of 25. Could have been higher but she apparently did not do all her required reading from high school. Silly girl.
4. Gas Monkey has read 5. He needs to get on it. A little under average, making him a little sad.

A good experience

The other day, I woke up. Once again, I heard a distinct chewing somewhere near my tent. "Darn those stinkbugs," I said to myself as I proceeded to change into more decent attire (i.e. clothes). I usually take my sweet time in the morning, anything to procrastinate the worst part of the routine, taking down the tent. After I felt I could stay in my tent no longer, I peeked out. To my amazement, I was surrounded, by a herd of bison. I had camped in this spot many times. While the rangers had mentioned to me there was a free-ranging herd in the park, I had never seen it. Now I was closer than my personal comfort could stand. The nearest bull was no more than 30 feet away from the entrance of my tent. For those of you who don't know, bison have a reputation of being somewhat unpredictable, and in some cases, aggressive. So I was a little concerned for my personal safety, especially since I was alone.

My eyes darted to my nearest rescue, my truck. Surely I would be better off in the vehicle, even if I had to leave all my personal belongings sprawled out around camp. I again surveyed my situation, trying the bull out. I crept back into my tent, careful to make no noise, and searched for my keys. In the end I had to remove everything from my bag to find them. Frustrated, I ended up going through the whole gamma of naughty words. Finally, I found my key chain, complete with the 15 keys I must drag around with me at all times for no apparent reason. The stupid thing barely fits in my pocket! Ridiculous! Anyways, I moved back to the entrance of my tent and looked out again. Crap! The bull was no longer chewing. He was looking at me, straight in my eyes (if bison are smart enough to do such a thing, I don't know). He snorted in a mood of warning. Awesome. I thought to myself how I hope to hell my truck door is not locked. With keys in hand, I rushed to the truck door. Crap!!!!! It was locked! So I scrambled to find the right truck key, hearing the bull moving behind me. No time to look. Finally I found the right one, swung open the door, scrambled in (in moments of crises I am never graceful), and slammed the door shut. I breathed a sigh of relief, until I was tossed off the seat. The damn bison was trying to hit my truck! What?!

At the time I did not like the idea of sitting around, stranded, while the bison proceeded to tear up my only escape. So I decided it was time to leave. I turned on the car, put it into four-wheel drive, and then climbed out the small valley towards a small dirt road, mid-way up the hill. Meanwhile, as I continued to drive, the bison followed. And some of his friends decided to join. After I managed to get to the road, I started driving to the park entrance. I hoped the bison would leave me alone after awhile. And sure enough, they did. I needed to get help, because some sort of smoke was floating into the air from the front of my truck. My nervous being strained, the driving helped me relax. I could not believe this happened to me. So strange.

As I am almost to the entrance, I see a group of people in a circle ahead, right at the edge of the forest. As I put-put closer, I was in awe. It is not a group of people. Four grizzly bears were standing on their hind feet, in a circle (if you can form a circle, and not a square, with four bears). Whatever they were doing, it reminded me of some pagan ritual. Except I had interrupted them. And they didn't like it. They dropped to their forefeet, and each in turn, circled towards me. They were huffing and growling. I think I peed a little. I have always been afraid of meeting grizzlies in the wild. What could I do?

I turned the truck around and started moving back towards my camp. A bear jumped into the bed of my truck. Two other large bears started moving towards my door. The locks on the truck are manual, and I had not thought of locking either side. I know from experience bears can break into vehicles. Instead of trying to reach over and lock the passenger side, I started driving as fast as my truck would go, you know, 25 mph. The bears scurried after me, almost keeping up. My mind was racing with ways to shake off these bears, they seemed quite determined. The bison. Maybe the bison.

With plan in mind, I drove back towards camp, a hopeful worry written all over my face. I entered the valley of my camp, and sure enough the bison are still there, ready and waiting. They were eager to see my truck again. As the bison charged the truck, the bears, being in the way, got thrown for a loop. This does not make the bears happy in the least. A huge fight pursued. I sat in awe, shocked that this was actually happening. It was amazing really. The bison chased off the bears into the forest. I knew my time was limited, so I headed back down to my camp. Immediately I began to break down my base. Suddenly, I heard a rumbling in the distance. My heart stopped briefly. I looked up the hill and saw another truck, one of the rangers. He drove down to me and got out. He was older, probably in his 50s, and had been very friendly with me from the beginning.

"Well now. I just thought I'd check in our favorite little researcher," he said, putting on the charm as most old men do when talking to a young, attractive (if I do say so myself) woman.
"But where do you think you're going? Is the field season done already?"

A little more at ease, I told him my harrowing story, aware that I am now sweaty and dirty, and probably barely coherent. Meanwhile, he looked at me with sincere interest, obviously in thoughtful contemplation. After I finished telling the story of my morning, eagerly waiting his response, he said,

"Well if that isn't the biggest fisherman's tale I've ever heard."

And the truth is, it was. Because it is only a dream I had the other night when sleeping in a hotel room in Wendover, Utah.

If anyone else fell for this, don't feel too bad. My mom totally did. But then again, she is pretty gullible.

Always, always, knock on wood!

So yesterday, K.H., Db and I were traveling from one netting spot to another. To take a shortcut, we took the Pony Express, which is a gravel road that covers the same route as the old time Pony Express. This road is notorious for flat tires. We made a pit stop at the Simpson Springs monument, an old stop on the express, to act like tourists and take a break. As we get back into our vehicles, K.H. says, "Eight wheels still good." Or something along those lines (we had two vehicles). I then said to Db, "Actually I'm pretty surprised we haven't had any flat tires so far this summer." Horrified that I may have cursed us, I quickly jumped out of the car, darted to the nearest wood post, and did some knocking. K.H., however, did not. No more than five minutes later, this was the consequence.
Coincidence? I think not. If anything it is further proof of the flighty character of the universe. Obey the rules, and all shall be well. But hey, at least I got to learn how to change a tire. And no, I had never changed one prior.

On a positive note, my feet are better. But apparently some bugs held a party on my arm. All on the same area, nowhere else. What can I say, I'm obviously delicious. And I have a few bug bites on my middle finger, which has caused it to swell up past bending size. Not a little annoying (the "not a little" is a constant phrase from the book I'm reading, the phrase itself being not a little annoying. It always makes me have to stop and think, "oh you must mean a lot then").

I probably could have put more flex into this picture.

Finally, I broke the tip of a bat's forefinger, the very last digit. I feel terrible about it, plus it made me sick to try and pull it out of the net, because the bone kept getting caught. It was the most tangled I'd ever seen a bat; it was in a brand spanking new net, so I was hesitant to cut it out. In the end, I accidentally broke a little bit of it's finger, put it into shock, and still ended up having to cut it out. I will never let that happen again. Hopefully it survived. I still get a little nauseous thinking about it.

Overall, a very interesting and yet not interesting week. More of the same, with a little bit of spice.

Reasons why I love field work, even though I'm homesick

1. Working closely (we are talking spending 24 hours/day every day) with people you'd normally not associate with or meet. From my experiences I have gotten to know pretty well: a future midwife, an extreme nature junkie, a rafting guide (who almost drowned me), a serious East coast baseball enthusiast, somebody named Apple, an Israeli immigrant, a Mormon, a Japanese exchange student, and the most normal, and yet still quirky, boss to date
   
2. Learning intimately every road, trail, and city, sometimes better than the locals.
3. Being forced to know where you are at all times, even when all the unmarked dirt roads look the same.
   
4. Sleeping under the stars (in my tent of course).
   
5. No cellphone, t.v., or internet. It's nice to get away for awhile, even if it is away from the most important people in your life. It makes you appreciate them more.
6. Not showering everyday. Yes, I said it.
7. Seeing animals in the wild most people never encounter. To date my list includes (but is not limited to): 2 mountain lions, dozens of black bears (some of which I've hugged), bobcats, grey fox, turkey vultures, turkeys (in my campsite), burrowing owls, peregrine falcons, greater sage grouse, 14/15 species of bats, osprey, lots of different kinds of water birds and hawks, kit fox, coyotes, elk, moose, pronghorn, and most recently, an American badger
8. When something goes wrong, YOU have to fix it. You're out in the middle of nowhere, with no cell phone reception, and if you don't, then you'll lose a whole day's worth of work or be stranded. It's usually one or the other.
9. Being outside, even if it 100 degrees (but not when it is freezing)
   
10. Becoming independent and learning to adapt to each situation
11. Gaining a better understanding of the world around me, and how I fit in it.

And those are just some of the reasons why, even as I am desperately homesick, I don't think I could ever give up field work.

A soda can in heat is a messy thing

Reminder, this is how an unopened can of Barq's Root beer should look.

This is how two can's of Barq's Root beer came out of the back of my car.

Should be fun.

Tie-Dye Guys and a good Mormon

I took this picture in stealth. I call it free advertising. Go to Smith's on 2100 S. in Salt Lake City. I also endorse being courteous and putting your carts away.

Hydrocortisone cream helps, for about 5 minutes

After you move past the shock of my bunions and calluses, I hope you can appreciate the pain I am going through. When my previous boss from the zoo, R.R., mentioned his deer fly bites from Utah, I was sympathetic. But I had never really been bitten by a deer fly/horsefly, so I could not relate. He said he had 50 on his legs. I have 13 on one foot, plus many elsewhere, but not as concentrated. Plus one really bad one on my other foot. Trust me, I am relating to him now. And no, I did not paint my toenails for the picture. Although I do think it is a nice touch, along with the bracelet.

Character List

Since I use aliases, I have created a list of character names and descriptions for all you Old People, since it is usually you who have nothing better to do. Which is fine with me. This list is on the side of the page. I know, you are welcome.

A rattlesnake, a badger, a UFO, and a bat. What more do you need?

A shower probably.

It's Friday here in Utah. But not just any Friday, it is Pioneer Day! Woo hoo! A state holiday, Pioneer Day is a celebration of the official settling of Utah by Mormon pioneers. I don't normally work on Fridays, so it's just another day off for me. But for those lovable Utahns, it is an opportunity to go out and use those ATVs to destroy Sage Grouse habitat, gather together and go to "This is the Place" (the red is a link to learn more . . . Old People), or maybe do something normal like watch a movie. At this point, I'm a little over the whole Mormon thing, since it likes to aim for me almost every single day. On the Utah public radio, from my coworker, from the liquor laws. And now on a regular ol' Friday, meaning I can't go to the library because it is closed. I don't mind the Mormons. I admire their togetherness and discipline. But I need a little break from this wholesome family fun.

Mysterious things happened all week. Actually, all on the same day now that I think about it. So let me make this more entertaining (as if it isn't already, as I know you are thinking). First, let me set the scene. . .

It is a hot Tuesday in the desert. Waking up at 11:30 a.m., I am struck by how cool my tent is. As I lay in my tent pondering how I could have been so lucky to choose the perfect Juniper tree to lay under, I hear a scratching right next to my tent. My mind immediately proceeds to eliminate possible culprits. The wind? No, wind doesn't scratch my tent. A deer? Why would a deer be all the way out in the desert, though of course possible. Db playing with my mind? No, that may be giving her too much credit (Kidding Db). Then, the scratching sounds more like chewing. This makes it easier for me to hypothesize further. A mouse or squirrel. Surely these things might chew on my tent. Then, I see something move underneath the bottom of my tent towards me. A mouse could fit, but also, a rattlesnake. So I carefully leave my tent, do my morning routine, and then proceed to the part I hate the most, taking down the tent (very annoying). As I walk around the perimeter, pulling up the stakes, I am very careful to keep my feet well away from the edge, lest a sharp-fanged friend attempt to kiss them (I know, you're thinking how well this is drawing out). I take the poles out. Then in a quick stealthy movement, I remove the tent from the spot, hoping to reveal my stalker. You'll never guess. Two fat stinkbugs! Hey, it was exciting at the moment.

Db and I manage to pack the truck in a very lethargic way. After all, we had just woken up in the desert in the middle of the day, when everything is at it's hottest and us at our groggiest. We drive around, go to Nevada for a quick fill-up, and proceed to the Callao cabin. Callao is a small town in the middle of the previous map. It's population is so small, that when you enter the village there is an old wooden sign mapping out where everybody lives, all twelve of them. Db tries to take a nap in our two room cabin, sans air-conditioning, while I repair the waders I ruined. I am still ruing the day I will have to try out my repair-efforts. I try to read in the cabin, trying desperately to keep all my limbs from touching, using my warm (but still cooler than myself) water bottle to cool my body. Apparently the moving around of the water bottle caused Db to have a dream about skeeball.

Finally, our torture is over. Time to work. We are heading to our netting site, zoning out, no longer talking. Like an old married couple, we are content with our silence, for we are running out of conversation. Plus the heat makes us irritable, mostly myself. Suddenly, ahead, a strange reddish-brown animal runs across the road and into the sagebrush. A fox you ask? No way. This animal was short, stout, with a long fluffy tail, and a white face. We put on the brakes and dig around for the binoculars. Occasionally we see something bob up and down among the brush. I get the first look. It's face is white and black striped. I had never seen a badger before, but I made the suggestion. Db keeps saying how badgers aren't red. The creature disappears. We keep driving and the creature reappears. Db gets a look at it. It is in fact a grey badger! Now the true question is, what was the red thing we saw? I am of the conclusion that it is either a feral cat, or we didn't get as good a look at it as we thought, and it was actually the badger in a different light. Db continues to think there is some mysterious animal that I don't know of. So she asks K.H. later. K.H. claims there is no unknown red animal in the sagebrush. So I saw a badger! Yay. Check that one off the list.

Later that night, it is a new moon (meaning no moon). We are netting. I am trying to explain how great a book The World According to Garp is, but it is hard to explain how awesome a book is to a Mormon when it has some twisted sexual themes. In fact, from experience, don't bother. I felt like a sick pervert reading sinful books. Keep it to the family fun. Children's books are generally a safe bet. Harry Potter in particular. Not to demean Db of course, we do have some interesting and controversial conversations. But she is never going to read that book. Anyways, while I am in the middle of explaining how Garp was conceived (his mother, a military nurse taking advantage of a degenerative war patient), I see these bright orangish/yellow lights lining up in the distance. Remember, we are in the middle of nowhere. I stop mid-sentence and tell Db to turn around. She starts freaking out. It looks like a UFO. Six or seven lights show up in a perfect row, except the older ones disappear as the newest ones appear. I imagine this is similar to signal flares, and we are only 30 minutes or so from Dugway Proving Ground, a major military base. So I write off the lights as flares, but Db freaks out a little bit. In the desert, Db is sometimes afraid of things like aliens. K.H. seems worried about breaking down. I am afraid of scary men/people. K.H. seems the most reasonable. Maybe we did not see a UFO, but if we were, the desert in Utah is a very likely place.

That night, we caught one bat. A pallid. They are quite beautiful. In fact, they are white (not brown or black), with awesome long pink ears. They are calm, and in all, quite exceptional. I was very excited. I could continue to rave, but I understand this is already a long entry. I spent an hour today in the children's section of Barnes and Noble, and it put me in a good mood.

Curbside Tie-dye and the Hound

I think I officially have a new friend. He is a very chatty seven year old. We agree that pokemon are awesome, cats are better than dogs, but disagree that the fossil trilobite and coprolites he only paid $1 for are really worth thousands of dollars (I being the pragmatic one of course). He is talking to me right now. I wonder if I could convince him to let me paint his toenails pink. Doubtful. Oh dear, he's parking next to me with his coloring book. Pirates!

Today I went to breakfast, and I saw, no joke, two older guys sitting around on the sidewalk in front of the grocery store, right next to the main street. This is not an area where people generally sell their wares curbside. They were selling . . . tie-dyed t-shirts. I would not imagine this to be a big seller. It was entertaining, because they were sitting on the curb with their batch of tie-dye t-shirts, each sporting one themselves, sitting in lawnchairs, and drinking something. Since everywhere else is closed on Sunday, maybe this brings them big business. Surely it is easy to do. I have to get me one of those. By those I mean a hardly profitable business hobby where all I have to do is sit out and people watch, until a casual walker by offers to look into my wares.

Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of the Baskervilles, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, was surprisingly pretty decent. This coming from me, who generally avoids mystery novels. Not at all what I thought. Now I'm on to An American Tragedy. The first chapter has turned me off. The full-family sidewalk Bible preachers reminds me of Flannery O'Connor, cringeworthy. Hopefully it will pick up, as one of the members of the family will disappear into sin. That's when it gets interesting.

Where I Work

Since I get asked this a lot. I don't work where there is anything of importance. In fact, most Utahns don't know where I'm talking about. That is just how remote it is. It is the vast nothingness that is south of I-80 (the interstate that goes through Wendover), and North of Hwy 50, which you can find by looking north of Delta and Lake Sevier. That is called the West Desert, and that is mostly where I work. See how there are no roads and cities? I don't get cell phone service once I go through Delta. Only 3 times a year do I work in Provo, or Strawberry Reservoir. Hope that clears things up a bit.

Freezing or Melting, depending

Last week Db and I helped the Northern Region (remember folks, we're in the Central Region), because they were very far behind. I think both of us realized our dysfunctional situation is way way better than theirs. Most of the nights it was almost freezing, two degrees Celsius. But at least we were actually catching bats. Most of the water sources were little springs used by cows, so the mud was really cow "mud". Delicious having to hammer stakes into "mud". Especially as it showers your face. NO licking! And then not showering for four days.

I haven't seen any new species of bat in a while. By "new" I mean species I haven't seen so far this summer. *If you are not fluent in Western bat species, feel free to skip the remainder of this paragraph* We have seen (for those who know and care): Big Brown bats, Hoary Bats, Pallid Bats, Brazilian Free-tailed Bats, Silver-haired bats, Long-eared myotis, Long-legged myotis, Western small-footed myotis, Little Brown Bats, Townsend's Big-Eared Bats, and maybe a Yuma, but could not confirm. Eleven out of 18 is still pretty good. I keep wanting to see a Fringed Myotis, because I keep telling Db to check for a fringe on the Long-eared myotis (because this is a differentiating characteristic that is poorly stated in our sometimes sorry excuse for a dichotomous key). She does check for the fringe, but I think she is getting exasperated by me always asking about it. I think she starting to think I'm cuckoo. I'd also like to catch a Yuma, just to give myself a feel good that I'm properly identifying the Little Browns, etc. etc. etc. And of course a Western Red Bat, because only 12 or so have ever been caught in Utah, so it is the big prize.

*IF you skipped the above paragraph, you may resume reading here*
Other things of importance, but not important enough to qualify for more extensive discussion:

1. I saw the new Harry Potter movie today. Oh how I miss teenage romance. It's so innocent and the most important thing in the world at that moment. Thank god some of my teenage dreams did not reach fruition!
2. My car survived two weeks without maintenance!
3. I am going to read Sherlock Holmes, the Hound of the Baskervilles, before An American Tragedy. Sorry Dad, but I just finished Great Expectations, I need a pick me up, and the first chapter of An American Tragedy already is very depressing. Plus, you know me. I have to read the book before the movie.
4. Gas Monkey was super darling, by signing me up for the Colorado Bat Society and the Western Bat Working Group. Talk about romantic. Now if only they would give me a job . . .
   
5. Looking for grad school opportunities at a Colorado university that focuses on mammals, biodiversity, and conservation. Bats preferred, but not necessary. Let me know if anybody knows of any.
   
6. My attachment to Utah has moved up from dislike to indifferent. Who would have thought? Maybe it would increase if I were able to go to any of the famous places (except for Temple Square. I think I'd need a safety buddy for that)

"Family" Reunion

Most of you will not be interested in the following paragraph. For that reason I have put it at the bottom. I hope you appreciate how I organize my posts to better suit the diverse backgrounds of my readers.

I am finally back in my normal routine. Last weekend I flew back home to Denver, only to go to my Grandpa's 80th birthday party in Breckenridge. On the one hand, it was awesome to get to see all my family together. I miss family a lot in Utah. I was able to learn a lot about my grandpa. His mother died of tuberculosis at a young age. I had never seen a picture of her, but she was pretty. Her hair reminded me of Daisy in the Great Gatsby (not the crappy movie). His dad, who I've also never seen pictures of, almost looked airbrushed. But the best part was seeing the pictures of my young G-Pa. He is always very playful, and it shows from an early age. The really awesome thing was that you could see the resemblance. You know with a lot of older people, you see their younger pictures, and you think to yourself, "I don't get it. I don't see it at all." With my G-Pa, he looks exactly the same, though perhaps with a little less plumpness in the cheeks. He was a hotty. And you can still see that mischievousness. He has lived a very up and down life, losing both is parents, previous relationships, and then having to raise two of the most nonsensical, and yet self-proclaimed "practically perfect" girls, simultaneously. And he has literally worked his butt off the whole time. If anybody deserves to be appreciated it is him. Especially after 80 years.

On the other hand, this birthday party turned into a huge family reunion, with all sorts of people showing up that I haven't seen or heard from since I was a wee little munchkin. What I did not like about the family reunion thing is my poor mom and aunt were so busy stressing over the details and preparations, they did not have much opportunity to sit and enjoy spending time with their dad. Sort of defeats the purpose. Kudos to my dad and uncle, who have been active pincushions through this whole 3 month (planning, it was an all consuming operation) fiasco. But the twins did an excellent job pulling things together, dealing with obstacles, and putting up with a sometimes uncooperative group (not me of course). We had a scavenger hunt, which was more fun than previously anticipated, especially since my team won (and that is all that is necessary for having a good time). Teenage cousins, Sibling, Dad, Gas Monkey, and an 80 year old man provided very entertaining conversation. I got to spend the weekend with my G-pa, G-ma, cousins, parents, sibling, aunty and uncle, and Gas Monkey. That's all that matters. Plus Breckenridge is beautiful this time of year, and the nice mountain air did some good. Of course that made it all the harder to come back to Utah.

Great Expectations

By Charles Dickens, did NOT exceed my expectations. Only barely met them. Even if you enjoy 19th century literature, beware. The writing is good, the story line is creative, relevant, and excellent, but the lulls are almost too much to overcome. Beware of the lulls. B-

The Hogle Zoo

So much fun, it's hard to stay awake! You just need to find a strategically-placed and shaped rock.

Still Breathing

Quick Update of things past:

1. Caught 117 bats at the same site we previously caught 80. Nobody got bit this time. Very hectic, with only 5 of us to mistnet and process (and only 2.5 of us any good at it)
2. Gas Monkey came down to visit last weekend. Exciting stuff. Went to the Hogle Zoo, which was pretty impressive in their Asian Highlands exhibit. Went fly fishing and camping two nights. I caught two Brook Trout, in immediate succession. Gas Monkey caught many more. Did not keep any fish. Yeah I know, we catch them and throw them back, and they could get infections and die. But their chances of survival are better than if we kept them and ate them . . . I think.

Other exciting moments:

1. Db hooked me up with probably the only coffee house in Provo. Thank you Db for further aiding my descent into sin. Just kidding.
2. Gas Monkey and I were camping. It had been a late night. I forgot the pillow, so we each had to use our pants as pillows (clean those dirty thoughts). Gas Monkey arose earlier than I, so I stole his pants to boost my pillow power. Throughout the morning (after all, I generally sleep until noon), I heard enthusiastic calls from outside of my tent. The calls generally sounded like this: "Hey, get up! I'm walking in my boxers out here!" A little later. "Hey, hurry up! I'm cold in my boxers out here!" A lot later. "Hey, get up! I'm fishing in my boxers! I need my pants! I can't believe you're making me fish in my boxers!" And my thoughts, the whole time, were as follows: "That's nice." I think he got some kind of secret thrill out of being half-naked in the woods, because he could have just taken his pants from me. But he didn't, so he must have enjoyed the breeze.
3. I just dropped another $300 on my car. This time it was the gas filler pipe (?). Whatever the pipe is that connects the gas spout to the tank. Awesome. So for those not counting, since I purchased my car at the end of last March, I have replaced the CV axles and differentials ($400), the master cylinder ($300), and now the pipe thingy ($300). Not to mention the mystery brake problem I'm having, or the power steering pump that the dealer was supposed to overhaul, but did not. I'm trying to predict what will break down next, and I'm guessing it will either be the transmission or the clutch, because those seem like the most expensive things to repair. The mechanic called me and told me that "The filler pipe was all rusted and leaky." My reply was "Yup, that sounds like my car. Rusty and leaky."

Finally, I'm reading a lot of Oscar Wilde, because he is just such a delightful dandy, and I truly admire his sense of art and wit. The true tragedy of his legacy is that if people know of him, they know solely of his being convicted of "gross indecencies" in Great Britain. Quite unfortunate. Here is a short passage I recently read of his that I thought quite clever.

"Actors are so fortunate. They can choose whether they will appear in tragedy or in comedy, whether they will suffer or make merry, laugh or shed tears. But in real life it is different. Most men and women are forced to perform parts for which they have no qualifications. Our Guildensterns play Hamlet for us, and our Hamlets have to jest like Prince Hal. The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast." - Lord Arthur Savile's Crime

That sounds depressing, but I do not mean it to be. I happen to enjoy tragicomedies. Thanks for reading.