I lost my job and my family has taken time off work to care for my sick grandpa, I talk about it more in this post. The gas company was nice enough to give me an extension for a few months, but it’s here and my bank account is empty from paying the other bills. If 1% of my followers donated a dollar I’d have enough. If you enjoy this blog please consider helping me out.
The Paypal donate button is on the blog’s main page. When this family stuff is over I’ll make the videos I’ve been promising (I have the software and the lessons outlined). Thank you Derek, Jay, Raphael, Jill, Mariah, Juan, Samantha, Chelsea, Valentin for donating already, I deeply appreciate it!
mymelodyoftheheart said: Very nice doodles, Angela. They go very nicely with your url name. I can totally see you taking care of a flock of geese like these so well, that, you would truly be a queen to them. :)
Heck yeah this is the dream
we are back in business
mymelodyoftheheart said: Here's a question for fun: You are sitting in your living room, waiting for a friend so you can hang out together. You get thirsty, grab a bottle of purple liquid, and drink it. Suddenly, you shrink to a very small size and fall into a bowl of salsa on the coffee table. Your friend comes in, calling for you. He/She picks up a chip, scoops up some salsa with you in it, and eats it. You are now in your friend's body. What do you do now? :)
I narrowly escape being chomped down on by some formidable molars. I tumble across a bumpy tongue and careen down the dark water slide that is my friend’s esophagus. I cuss compulsively as I try to grab hold of
something but all I can feel is smooth, slimy epithelium. I brace myself for impact, thinking that I’m doomed and soon I’ll be doggy paddling around in and then promptly disintegrated by stomach acid. However just as I
have accepted my dismal fate I find that I’m fortunate enough to land on a floating piece of half-digested hot dog. It’s very smelly in this cathedral of digestion. Various splashes and drips echo. I am reminded of the
sewer. I look around. I am so small that I can see and hear the activities of microbes. I am filled with a strange joy to be on equal footing with them. It’s real dark in here but from deep below me in the acid pool,
I spy two glowing green lights surfacing. They emerge. They are flying bioluminescent creatures halfway between beetles and frogs and they seem unaffected by the corrosive stomach acid. They seem puzzled by me and mutter to each other.
"Hey guys," I venture. "could you, by chance, get me to the ear canal? I’m kind of in a hurry." One hovers closer to me. A slimy pink tongue emerges from his mouth and it gives my entire face a lick. He considers for a moment. Drool drips off my cheeks.
"Good flavor, a little salty. Probably not fit to be eaten. Crawling with devious microorganisms. You, little eukaryote, are lucky you have us to protect you from the antibodies. Soon they would find you and destroy you, if not for us. We escape detection because of our elegantly disguised antigens." The other beetle-frog flies over and both of them show me the protein strings wiggling along their light-dotted exoskeletons. "You, however, lack the proper antigens as well as a good shell to protect against the Conglomerate’s various acids. So we must transport you to a more secure location. Even if you survived digestion, a creature as frightening as you would likely provoke the leukocytes to not only destroy you but also force emesis which is unpleasant
for everyone involved.” The beetle-frog offers me its back, upon which I climb and find a comfortable position. We then fly upward, back through the esophagus. With their light I am able to see the undulating
esophageal cells I had previously slid down. Most of them are busy metabolizing or producing mucus but some seem a bit concerned by our presence. I ask my rescuers if they were likely to alert the antibodies.
"Yes it is possible that they would, but we have been reported many times and each time we are discovered by antibodies we are found to have the proper antigens. This puzzles them of course. They are one-dimensional beings however. They simply can’t comprehend deception so they are left to conclude that we are harmless anomalies. This is how tumors spread. Sometimes these events are caught by the wisest of defenders but mostly, by the time they realize there is something very wrong, it is too late and the Conglomerate is left to succumb. We have lived in the warm cavities of many Conglomerates and have seen much. We know things even the neurons don’t know. The pineal cells, though…they are a cognizant bunch. We talk to them often. They are the brains behind the operation. But I digress. If we are accosted, we will attempt to hide you. Otherwise you will be analyzed and destroyed. So it is best to avoid detection completely."
I am intrigued by the idea of speaking with the pineal cells. But I am also frightened by the idea of being detected and taken apart by my friend’s immune system. I decide that it is an adventure for another day, perhaps another lifetime. I just need to get out of here so I just nod.
We reach the throat. My friend appears to be enjoying more chips and salsa and we see globs of chewed material sliding down past us. We see the entrance of the eustashian tube opening and closing as she chews and swallows. The beetle-frogs speedily maneuver into the passage at an opportune moment and soon we reach the eardrum. It is a huge, beautiful membrane which is vibrating and buzzing against the delicate bones of the inner ear - quite impressive and monumental at my miniscule scale, however. I feel strange and realize the beetle-frogs are somewhat smaller than they were before.
"You’re getting rather heavy. You are a strange eukaryote indeed," says the one I am riding. "Now, what did you want to do here again?"
"I must get past the eardrum somehow," I tell him. We look up at the vibrating sheet of cells.
"You are small enough to squeeze between the cells, I think." muses the other beetle-frog. "Go ahead, all you can do is try." I nod and dismount, scrambling up some more slippery epithelium to approach the eardrum. The membranous cells acknowledge me with something between curiosity and aversion. I hear one of them mutter, "Be ready to alert the antibodies. This one could cause a sinus infection and we’ve all had enough of that." They groan as I attempt to push my arm between a couple of them. I turn around and wave goodbye to the beetle-frogs.
"Thanks for your help." I say. They nod but they stay, probably wishing to keep an eye on me lest I am a sitting duck should defenders arrive. I begin to squeeze through. It is slightly slippery between the lipid
membranes but just slippery enough for me to get moving. I hear more groans from the cells. The vibrations picked up by the eardrum buzz through me and are nearly overwhelming. I become part of the membrane. It gets a little tight as I proceed and more cells are complaining. I hear one of them send a message. “Okay that’s it,
call immunity and get this germ outta here. My cytoplasm is far too cramped. I can’t work in these conditions!” I try to move faster and get more admonishment. Soon though, I see the other side. I poke my hand
through. It’s very tight now and I realize that I’m growing larger. The purple potion is wearing off. I need to get out of here. Once my entire body is through after quite a lot of discomfort and complaints shouted in
my ear, I’m at least three times the size I was when I landed in the stomach. I take a deep breath and run towards the entrance of the ear canal, a void of blinding light at this scale. My feet pass over more
"STOP RIGHT THERE, INVADER." I hear behind me. I do not stop. I merely glance over my shoulder and see a few terrifyingly large leukocytes undulating at a rapid pace towards me. They’ve pulled out the big guns already. I’m growing larger at a quicker rate however, and soon I hear gasps as I am nearly half the height of the ear canal now. I hear the leukocytes call for backup. I’m barely able to fit through my friend’s earhole by the time I’ve arrived there and I figure she can probably feel me. I hope she doesn’t squish me with a finger. I move quickly because waiting would be disastrous. I leap from my friend’s ear, my eyes shut against the blinding light of the outside world. I hope that I become large enough to land without being killed or horrendously injured on impact. I feel some kind of landing and open my eyes. I’m my normal size again and I’m curled in the fetal position on the floor of my living room. My friend is bent over me, looking worried and slightly grossed out.
"There you are. You just appeared out of nowhere. You smell kinda raunchy." I nod.
"Yeah. I sure do huh." I say, nearly out of breath. "I think I could use a shower. After that…let’s walk in the woods or something. I’ve had a long day and I could use a shift in perspective."
mymelodyoftheheart said: Here's a question for fun: If you had the ability to Shape Shift, what would you like to change into? :)
I would definitely shape-shift into a Canada goose as they are something of a power animal for me. Not only do they possess the power of flight but also a great memory for landmarks, each other, and other creatures they
deem part of their flock (I’ve read about people who gain their trust through feeding and become members of the family). They are fiercely protective parents and tend to mate for life. Their coloration, their sounds, and their behavior are endearing to me too. The fact that many people will say they’re pests attests to their survival skills: from reading and observation, it seems like all they need is a sizable water source, a lawn of good grazing, and their own formidable tempers. They live in ample numbers on my school’s campus most months out of the year and upon first moving there and watching them all the time I began to think “these guys are funny and cool and I like ‘em a lot” for reasons that are still somewhat unknown to me. I’ve since decided to call it a spirit animal attachment and this is why the goose would be my go-to form if I could shape shift.