I get a REAL LIFE friend!

Today we matched for my husband's residency at THE UNIVERSITY OF PITTSBURGH!

These are our thoughts thus far:

It was very high on our list and a very prestigious urologic training program.

We will not be Steelers fans - but I do love penguins.

It's better than Dayton and still within driving distance of my mom.

There are lots of job opportunities for me.

It's still cold - but not as cold a Minnesota.

There is a doctoral program there for me.

It's a 6 year training program for hubs, so buying another house is totally a possibility.

I'm not afraid to move to Pennsylvania.

I get to turn a blog friend into an IRL friend ... Mermanda, here I come!!

WHY is there an "H" on the end of Pittsburgh?

Prom Rebels and Beef Butts

My Alma mater has made national news twice so far this year. The first was in March when the Oiler basketball team cinched the NCAA Division II men's basketball title. I don’t give a toot about basketball (unless Duke makes it past the sweet sixteen). But it would be nice for people to say, “The basketball champs?” as opposed to saying “Is that an aggi school up north?” Because for the record, Yes. Yes, I palpated cows and was the only girl to show up without coveralls and lube. And, yes, I needed a stool to position my ENTIRE ARM inside the cow’s b-hole while wearing a fashionable plastic sleeve and screaming “It’s cutting off my circulation!” or “There's poo on my neck!" ...HOWEVER when people call it an “aggi school” it hurts a little. It somehow diminishes my experience - aggricultural or otherwise.

This week, Findlay, OH again made national news when a high schooler was suspended from his Christian school for accompanying his girlfriend to her prom. Apparently, his Baptist institution prohibits dancing, handholding and listening to rock 'n' roll (only that genre? Really? Because I can think of a lot worse). The principal apparently blames it on the little sluts that are inherently produced by the public school system. In a statement, principal, Tim England, wrote,

"When the school committee ... set up the policy regarding dancing, I am confident that they had the principle of fleeing lustful situations in mind ... should a Christian place themselves at an event where young ladies will have low-cut dresses and be dancing in them."

Great, now everyone’s forgotten about the basketball and they think the town is home to an “aggi” university and a crazy Christian high school that made national news for not letting some hormonal kid get raging drunk off watered down vodka disguised in an empty shampoo bottle before grinding the night away to illicit rap music with his scantily clad date before shagging her in the back alley of a trailer park while using a sandwich baggie as a make-shift condom. Prom is awesome people! Get on board!

Besides, the biggest store in the carpeted mall is K-Mart, the campus is dry, and with a town like that – Prom is hardly the only excuse to sin (not that I would know). Go Oilers!

Go go gadget clam!

I wish it would snow a million blizzards this afternoon and my stats class would be cancelled like last week. I’m not that lucky. My mid-term is a week from today and I have no idea what I am doing. Every time I do the homework, I look at the notes and apply whichever example the professor did in the notes to the homework. Is that learning? What in the hizzell am I going to do when I can’t use my notes on the mid-term? Did I mention I have taken three other stats courses? Why can’t stats stick in my head like the Jarrod’s jingle? (omg don't sing it!) Instead, the information sits in the pit of my stomach in an anxious knot just waiting to be shit out the other end never to be retrieved again. That’s how I earned myself a big fat 'C' in graduate school hence, the reason I am torturing myself with stats class in the first place. I am eager to show my dedication to ongoing statistical enlightement – but landing myself another big fat 'C' will NOT give me any props when it comes around the applying to doctoral programs. Interviewer: Ah, I see you still suck at statistics. Hhrumph!

One day our professor took off his winter hat and (unbeknownst to him) his hair was standing straight up like a mohawk. Straight up I tell you! So much that I had to bite my lip to stop from busting into uncontrollable giggles every time I looked at him. Our ex-roomie is in the class with me and spent the entire class period trying to secretly take a picture of the professor's hair on his iphone. Imagine how hard this is when you sit in the front row of a class with 9 people. Also imagine how much stats I learned that day. Zilch is the answer.

Our professor also likes to show us random data sets and ask us questions related to the set without any prior knowledge. Like this one:

As you can see the water increased in temperature. What do you suppose happens to the clams as a result of the increased temperature?

How the shit should I know? Maybe it makes them feel like they have to pee (do clams pee?) He waits silently until some poor idiot (finally!) attempts an answer to the ridiculous question (Um, they die?) which the professor follow up with this:

No. No, the clam length actually increased as a result of the warmer water.

Gee Wiz, Thanks! Now I don't know squat about stats but I know clams grow in warm water. Awesome.

Dear Stats: I hate you with the fiery passions of all loathing and possibly even more than I hate Abbie Cornish , Insane Clown Posse and that damn Jarrod's jingle.