Doesn't taste like chicken

One thing that I learned from all of my wonderful psych professors at Union was that a lot of those stupid-looking animals are actually sort of intelligent. Rats, pigeons, babies...they all learn pretty quickly if you shock them.

Which brings me to the fact that I'm blogging right now from my bed. Why? Because I don't learn as well from my mistakes as the rat who gets shocked when it pushes a lever. During senior year at good old Medway High, my favorite class was probably calculus. I couldn't tell you a thing about calculus though...I spent at least 50 percent of the time sitting in the back corner with my desk turned to the side so I could talk to Kristen. It was a great social hour, drawing pictures, figuring out weekend plans, and stuff like that. But inevitably we'd get bored.

One time Kristen bet me 5 dollars to eat her chapstick. I was broke, and I've always thought all those fancy flavors smelled tasty. You'd think it would be a delicious afternoon treat, right?

Not really...they smell good, but they taste like a mouthful of wax. But I was 5 bucks richer.

And that brings me to tonight, when Helen, Kate, and I were sitting around watching another incredible episode of the O.C., finishing off the chocolate dipped strawberries that I made this afternoon. I got antsy, and somehow Kate ended up betting me 5 dollars that I couldn't eat everything on a leftover plate of her's...it had 2 slices of her pizza from dinner that she didn't like, plus the leftovers from the strawberries, with their stems. I had just come back from Anna's Taqueria where I finished off a burrito, and I wasn't feeling quite up to it. But then Helen upped the ante with a free beer, and I was sold. Those strawberry stems are scratchy going down.

And now I lie in bed with an upset stomach, wishing I had bargained for more than 5 bucks and a beer. Or that I learned from my mistakes as well as pigeons.