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I guest co-hosted Addicted to Race this past weekend with the fabulous Carmen! Check it out as we talk about Harold and Kumar, and Barack Obama!

Carmen also drew my attention to a comment on the podcast regarding my nationality. Torontonian suggests that the tagline for this blog suggests I am trying to hide my Canadian nationality to appeal to Asian American audiences. This commentor seemed marginally offended that I didn’t shout my Canadian-ness from the rooftops, and essentially argued that I was “selling out” my national identity for personal gain. I was actually surprised that this was the first comment folks would have on the podcast — I figured that ‘fer sure I was gonna draw disagreement over Harold and Kumar. Nonetheless, I thought it would be worth responding to here (I also posted at the ATR website a quick comment).

I am Canadian and I am absolutely not ashamed of that fact. However, I don’t claim the “Asian Canadian” identity. There are a couple of reasons for that, none of which are for personal gain:

First, I disagree with the idea that there needs to be a strong national line drawn between Asian Americans and Asian Canadians. Whether we Canadians like to admit it or not, our culture, media access, and racial politics are similar to America’s. When a movie is released in North America, it includes release in Canada. When someone says something racist, the impact will affect all Asians, regardless of whether they are 20 km north or 20 miles south of the US-Canadian border. Both America and Canada boast a largely White ethnocentric society that Asians are still trying to find a place in. And much of the history of Asians in Canada mirror their history in America; see, for example, the fact that Obasan, one of the premiere books on WWII internment was actually written by a Canadian and situated in Canadian internment camps.

Given that the term “Asian American” arose in part out of shared external experiences associated with racism, immigration, and media stereotypes, I see no reason to draw such a sharp distinction between Canadians and Americans. If “Asian American” is a politicized racial identity, than the “American” in Asian American, to me, refers to “North American”. Many of the discussions I have on this blog, I feel, are relevant to all Asians in North America based on that shared Westernized culture. Of course, Asian Canadians disagree, and feel there is a critical difference between “Asian American” and “Asian Canadian”.

Secondly, for myself, I identify more closely with the Asian American community. My political activism was born and shaped during my time in America; I was only sixteen when I moved away from Canada. I have been a temporary resident of this country for nearly nine years. Based on my career goals, it is possible that I might apply for a green card in the States. I simply don’t feel a connection with those who call themselves “Asian Canadian”. For me, I best self-identify as an Asian American with a Canadian passport. 

That’s not to say I am ashamed of being Canadian. In fact, I am quite proud of Canada for being my birthplace, and the place of my childhood. Many of my values regarding populism and shared communal responsibility come from the Canadian culture, and in the healthcare debate, I will proudly discuss the benefits of Canada’s universal healthcare system. But as an adult, I feel a part of the Asian American culture, almost as children who are born in Asia but who immigrate to North America when they are eleven or twelve feel about their “motherland”.

It’s difficult to navigate nationalism with ethnicity with racial identity. Does an American ex-patriate in another country identify as White? White American? White American African? As I discussed in my podcast with Fallout Central over the weekend, I subscribe to “self-identification”: I believe that we should rely on a person to decide, for themselves, who or what their identities are, and that we should not impose our own judgements onto that self-identity, nor to imagine we are capable of discerning whether or not that self-identification is valid. Tiger Woods identifies as “Cablanasian” to articulate his multi-racial identity; who are we to say he should fit himself into our notions of Asian American, African American, or Whiteness? Similarly, if an African American during Jim Crowe was technically American but was so disenfranchised by American culture that he did not appropriate the term “American”, who are we to invalidate that self-identification? If I identify as Asian American (and have discussed my definition of that term), should my act of self-identification not also be sufficient?

I believe that we, as a community and as a culture, need to stop imagining that we are in a place to validate other people’s personal relationships with their race, gender, ethnicity or nationality. This, to me, is a manifestation of the “sellout” mentality that has come to predominate racial debates, particularly among minority cultures. We have subverted the meaningful discussion of race and gender as a group defined by collective self-identification and self-determination, and turned minority identity into a country club that allows others to decide our own identity into this exclusive clique. We delight over expelling others from the race (or gender), labelling them as “sellouts” for not acting the way (an arbitrary) we deem appropriate. We meticulously dissect every aspect of a person’s life, assuming that every characteristic — however private and complex — is grounds for deciding that person’s racial authenticity. How many have deemed me “not Asian American enough” for my long-term, committed relationship with a non-Asian American man, even when I don’t believe that the race of one’s life partner is – in any way — relevant to a person’s own political identity?

This appropriation of another person’s life choices and political identity is not only impractical, it is a violation of our individuality. Minority identity can only be serviced when people choose to identify (or not) with a particular community based on their own relationship with its basic tenets, not when we try to assimilate people, then judge them harshly for their complexities. We need to stop egotistically inserting ourselves into the lives of others and accept our ignorance of the particulars of another person’s life, respect the nuance of another person’s choices, and understand that the only person best equipped to decide someone’s identity is that person, themselves. Just because we don’t know, or don’t understand, a person’s reason for self-identifying one way or another, doesn’t mean that the reasoning is either inauthentic, ignorant or inappropriate.

I really suck at Trivial Pursuit.

I mean, really suck. And not even at that original version of Trivial Pursuit featuring all those silver screen movie legends no one under the age of 30 has ever heard of. I’m talking about the 20th Anniversary edition of Trivial Pursuit that has been updated to focus on stuff that happened during and after the 80’s, and in which a guess of “Bill Clinton”, “Michael Jackson”, or “Tennis” should net you a right answer with two-thirds of the questions.

I’m just no good at this game. Usually, I bounce around the board, with an empty pie, guessing poorly at most of the questions, aiming for the Science and Technology category that I can do fairly well, and hoping for the  comic book questions in the “Written Word”. And while that can be fun, there’s a twinge of humiliation that occurs when I don’t know simple things – like the other night, when I thought Scandinavia was a country (it’s not?) and I could only describe the long-time coach of the Dallas Cowboys as “that guy whom Hank Hill of King of the Hill worships” (Tom Landry).

Meanwhile, electroman eats Trivial Pursuit for breakfast. Honestly, he’s about the best that I’ve ever seen, pulling out a correct answer for questions I don’t even understand. He’s the only person I’ve ever seen actually win a game of Trivial Pursuit, even doing that thing where you have to go to the center and someone asks you a question of their choosing. With a little ”uhm”-ing and “ahh”-ing, he can remember the full name of obscure aides to JFK who have recently been in the news with scandals, recall tiny towns known for their sweet onions, and even give you a quick run-down of tennis champs.

And you know what I think? Electroman is a Trivial Pursuit elitist.

With all his Ivy League education, he thinks his mad skills makes him better than me. He flaunts it every chance he get, rubbing my nose in his knowledge that Fidel Castro has a brother named Raul, and that Wyclef Jean started a foundation for kids named “Clef’s Kids”. Every question he answers right is an insult to all of those common people like me, who didn’t have the benefit of daily Jeopardy-watching when we were growing up.

And talk about useless knowledge — who could care about former presidents like Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush? They’re not president now, so why do I need to know what stupid peaces they brokered or bills they passed? When has knowing the year the Berlin Wall fell helped anybody?

Electroman has lost touch with the Trivial Pursuit novices who are clearly unimpressed by an encyclopedic knowledge of obscure facts. He forgets that we Trivial Pursuit novices outnumber his pansy, privileged Trivial Pursuit experts, and we are the ones with core American values — like being really good at Guitar Hero. Trivial Pursuit is for academics and liberals like Ted Kennedy and Barack Obama, and but here in the heart of the US of A, it’s Guitar Hero all the way.

Sure, a sound trouncing at Trivial Pursuit has me feeling insecure. But, it’s not like I’m clinging to my mad Guitar Hero skills to buoy my self-esteem. Sure, I play it more when I’m humiliated at Trivial Pursuit, but I have a long, proud tradition of playing Guitar Hero that has nothing to do with the bruising my ego receives following a defeat at Trivial Pursuit… even if I turn my PS2 on as soon as Trivial Pursuit is packed up and make Electroman stumble through AFI’s Miss Murder on Hard just so I can show him how how a truly American game is played (and played well by me).

Electroman, don’t you know that your skills at Trivial Pursuit is condescending to the American people? By excelling at that game, you tell us that we’re stupid. At least someone like Hillary Clinton will throw the game a little; she understands us Trivial Pursuit novices, gives us hints when we’re faced with that pesky ”Written Word” category, and even enjoys Guitar Hero sometimes (even if she’s holding the little plastic guitar all wrong and can’t figure out what the whammy bar does). She tries to be just like us — but you? With your fancy name recall and the way you space your pie pieces equally as you collect them? Elitist.

We, in America, don’t need someone who’s pointlessly intelligent telling us what to do. That person should be someone who gets what it’s like to be bad at Trivial Pursuit, and someone who has worked really, really, really hard to like the things we like. It doesn’t matter if Hillary’s just as good as you are at Trivial Pursuit, electroman, the point is that she pretends she’s not good at it. Electroman, you are putting a divisive wedge between yourself and people like me who suck at Trivial Pursuit. It’s your fault I feel embarassed by being bad at that game, when it’s you who should feel embarassed by being good at it. Like Hillary, you should try to down-play your skills, throw a question or two, and talk about how much you think Guitar Hero is a better game, anyways.

But you won’t. You won’t compromise your elitist intellect so I won’t be offended by how smart you are. So with that, I have only one question for you, Electroman: why do you hate America?

This past week was declared by animal rights activists to be World Week for Animals in Laboratories, which prompted a security lockdown in most academic research institutions across the country. This week, virtually every door in my building was locked, and scientists were holding our breaths to see what would happen. Spent bullet casings were found near our building. I felt like the victim of psychological terrorism.

Earlier this week, I read two very annoying letters in my on-campus paper, criticizing the scientific community for its use of animals in life sciences research. I have hit my tolerance for this kind of manipulative slander that would characterize scientists as morally bankrupt capitalists. I wrote a letter to my campus paper in response. The response was limited to 350 words, so here is the full response, prior to my edits for length:

Animal rights activists have declared this week World Week for Animals in Laboratories. Over the past two days, the Wildcat published two Mailbag letters condemning the use of laboratory animals in scientific research (4/21/2008: Nyles Bauer, “Animal rights week campus warning” and 4/22/2008: Curt Fleugel, “All living creatures are sacred”).

I am dismayed by the anti-intellectual arguments put forth in both letters. Both Bauer and Fleugel insinuate that researchers who work with animals lack a strong moral code; Fleugel suggests that scientists who use animals in their work do so merely for self-interest or profit. In reality, scientists rarely turn a profit from our work: publicly-funded life sciences researchers – particularly those at The University of Arizona – make substantially less money in annual salary than do professionals with graduate-level degrees working in most other fields. Rarely do these scientists have the opportunity to turn even a modest profit from their work.

Fleugel further suggests that scientists do not cherish the lives of innocents. Yet, scientists have dedicated their careers to furthering our understanding of biology and disease. Fleugel laments the lives of pigs used in brain injury studies, but he offers no acknowledgement of the 5.8 million stroke victims in this country who are likely to benefit from those brain injury studies. Animal rights activists offer no sympathy for the nearly 1 million Americans who die of cardiovascular disease every year or for the nearly 10 million Americans who suffer from incurable cancer. They do not see the thousands of Americans who endure Type I diabetes – many of whom are young children – whose lives depend on the animal-based research that led to portable blood-glucose monitors and insulin analogs. It is these countless victims of poorly-understood human diseases who motivate scientists to pursue a better understanding of our shared biology: why don’t animal rights activists consider the lives of these victims sacred as well?

Scientists who use animals in their studies do not undertake their decision lightly. Beyond the obvious moral implications, animal work is particularly costly, time-consuming, and can produce highly-variable results. Yet, scientists frequently resort to animal work because, sadly, we do not yet fully understand mammalian physiology enough to artificially model it. New proteins are discovered on a daily basis, and we are still decades away from being able to develop realistic computer models of human physiology that can replace animal models. In vitro models such as cell culture are isolated from the complex physiological systems critical for maintaining the system-wide health of an organism: currently, it is virtually impossible to mimic a working cerebral, cardiovascular, or immune system in an in vitro setting. Thus, in vitro models are poor substitutes for studying the impact of a particular disease of pharmaceutical treatment on an intact organism. In other words, researchers do not use animal models because they want to; researchers use animals because they must if they hope to develop treatments for the millions of Americans who suffer and die annually due to disease and injury.

Bauer suggests that there should be greater transparency into animal usage in publicly-funded laboratories, proposing that any scientist who “hide[s] the[ir] experiments within sterile labs… either feel[s] shame in performing these experiments and should therefore not be running them, or feel[s] that they have some sort of insight that the common folk lack as to what is moral when animal experimentation is performed.” What Bauer fails to consider is that researchers who use animals are under the strict oversight of the University’s Institutional Animal Care and Use Committee (IACUC). IACUC members include scientists, veterinarians, and average citizens who must approve every aspect of an investigator’s experiment that involves animal work. To receive IACUC approval, investigators must justify the scientific need for their research, address the ethical implications of their proposal, minimize pain of their animals through appropriate use of anesthetics and antibiotics, and justify animal numbers such that no more animals than are absolutely necessary are used in the course of the experiment. IACUC veterinarians inspect laboratory facilities annually to ensure that all animal work meets their approved criteria and all stress to laboratory animals is avoided.

Moreover, I find the characterization of scientists as hiding in laboratories bizarre. Most labs are secured because they contain costly equipment that must be protected from theft, and some are necessarily sterile in order to avoid contamination of in vitro cell culture and in vivo surgeries. Bauer’s suggestion that concerned taxpayers jostle their way into sterile labs in order to witness animal experimentation actually puts laboratory animals at far greater risk than any individual procedure alone: even one extra person in a surgery suite (particularly those untrained in sterile technique) will distract an investigator while s/he is performing a delicate survival surgery and will expose surgical animals to life-threatening infections.

The use of animals in biological research is an ethically complex discussion that has no easy solution. However, the debate is not done justice by the threats of vandalism or physical violence from some extremist animal rights activists that have necessitated this week’s security lockdown of the university’s research labs. Mutual understanding will not be reached through a one-sided debate that vilifies scientists as profiteering sadists and morally bankrupt social outcasts. Scientists are happy to discuss their work in detail when they are respected as contributing, caring members of society whom you can disagree with without being petty and disagreeable.

I am infuriated that animal rights activists seem to want to engender fear in scientists. A faculty member in my program uses monkeys in her research in an effort to study the anatomical basis for primate emotion. For nearly twenty years, this faculty member refused to publicize her research: not out of shame of her findings, but out of fear that animal rights activists would firebomb her home, destroy her life’s work, or threaten her life or the lives of her family. A colleague of her’s, who used to work with monkeys to study the function of the hippocampus, moved to studying invertebrates after his children’s names and schools were published amongst animal rights activist’s circles.

I work with mice, not because I want to, but because I must to obtain answers to my research questions (which have implications for the treatment of both cardiovascular disease and cancer). I am deeply offended by animal rights activists who use slander and threats of violence to terrorize scientists. I am insulted by the posters of cute, fluffy kitties and puppies used to decry animal research, but no images of cancer victims who die every day because research has not progressed quickly enough to save their lives: these victims are condemned to death by those who would stop life-saving research in its tracks.

There is no simple solution to the ethical dilemma of animal research: on the one hand, several million animals die in the course of animal experimentation around the world, but on the other hand, hundreds of millions of humans die of disease if we do nothing. Whose lives are more sacred?

So, I’m back, completely refreshed, and ready to blog!

While I was gone, I very much missed having this outlet to express myself and interact with respectful, engaged readers. So, I’m feeling really energized about returning to the blog and exploring some more issues of Asian American identity and feminism with you.

For now, I just want to thank the many, many readers who emailed me during my hiatus and offered words of support and kindness. Though I didn’t have time to respond to most of you, your words were well-received and cherished! I will be trying to respond to email over the next few days.

I also wanted to thank electroman for keeping up the blog while I was gone. He did a fabulous job posting for me, particularly on such short notice.

Over this weekend, I will be in NYC to attend the NYCAASC conference. I will be appearing on one of the panels and will try to attend a few of the other sessions as well. Right now, I’m hanging out at the Phoenix airport, since my flight was super-delayed. Ah, the joys of flying in this country.

Check out the 2nd New York City Asian American Student Conference this weekend, April 12, 2008, featuring Jenn Fang, Reappropriate’s blogger extraordinaire, in a panel discussion on Asian Americans in the blogosphere. From the website (click the picture to learn more) :

Challenging the Mainstream: Asian Americans in the Ethnic Blogosphere
Since its advent, the internet has been a crucial medium through which APA activists channel their thoughts and opinions about progressive issues. From it, the growing phenomenon of writing web logs, or “blogging”, has allowed activists and ethnic commentators to challenge mainstream media’s opinions of society. The Boston Globe has called such blogs “places where people of color gather to refine ideas or form thoughts about race relations, racial inequities, and the role pop culture has in exacerbating stereotypes.” In this workshop, you will learn how you can begin your own such process of blogging as a form of activism in order to challenge mainstream media and its dialogues upon race and Asian Americana.

This panel will include Kai Chang (Zuky), Carmen Van Kerckhove (Racialicious), Phil Yu (Angry Asian Man), William Lee (Fallout Central), Jenn Fang (Reappropriate), Jen Wang and Diana Nguyen (Disgrasian).

For those of you planning to be in the New York City area this weekend, this conference represents a wonderful opportunity to both share your knowledge and learn more about Asian American history and political awareness. And forgive the shameless plug, but a panel discussion on Asian American blogging with the most prominent names in the field including Jenn Fang herself? How can you miss that?

More on the conference:

The New York City Asian American Student Conference is an annual gathering dedicated to promoting awareness of APA issues and history among college students.

This year, we have chosen the theme “Redefine” for our conference. Our theme explores the evolution of the APA community, highlighting its past, present and future.

Through our conference, we hope to bring all our voices - new and old, heard and unheard - into dialogue with each other, while acknowledging the differences and conflicts that are rooted in divergent experiences and shape vast and rich histories. Over the course of the day, we plan to showcase the stories of APA artists, activists, professionals, scholars, and more. We invite you to join us in our celebration and struggle, so that we may not forget our responsibilities to each other, but empower each other to redefine our identities.

NYCAASC’s committee is comprised of students from Columbia University, New York University, Hunter College, Baruch College, and Fordham University. As a committee, we strive to reflect the spirit of celebrating and unifying the Asian American voice in all its forms and representations, perpetuating the presence of a vibrant community.

The registration page can be found here.

When and Where: 9:30am - 9:30pm, Saturday, April 12th
                                 New York University Kimmel Center
                                 60 Washington Square South, NY, NY

 - Melanin Manson

I just wanted to let you guys know that I will be going on a brief hiatus from this blog, until early-April. There are a couple of reasons for this decision.

First, I am going to my first scientific conference next week and I need to step into high gear to be ready for that. I have more data analysis to do than there are hours in the day, and I’m finding the blog to be too distracting. I usually devote two hours to blogging, reading and answering comments, and I need that time right now to work so I can put on a good show in San Diego.

Second, I’ve found myself extremely angry and frustrated by the level of the debate. I’m weary of the arguing, frustrated by the tone, and disillusioned by the blog’s mission. My open comment policy has been misused over the past month, and I’ve had to ban several readers — undermining my disagreement in idea censorship and my belief in the power of democratic idea-building (and the inherent goodness and decency of readers). I’ve taken time to think about my feminism, and have realized that non-feminists are no closer to understanding what Asian American feminism is now, than they ever were before I started. These self-identified non-feminists assume that feminism is a cultish fervor over White men and Whiteness that cultivates an assault on Asian men as universally sexist and unworthy, when in point of fact, the ideas of Asian American feminism is best defined by Gary Okihiro’s “When and Where I Enter”, which argued against the patriarchy of minority communities and cautioned that Asian American equality could only be achieved by the joint elimination of both racism and sexism, both inter- and intra-racially. And that can only occur when Asian American men stop to genuinely consider their male privilege (in the context of racial oppression from the White mainstream) and sincerely prioritize the discussion — and thereby elimination — of sexism within the APIA community.

In four years, that point has not been made. In four years, I’ve only encountered defensiveness, distractions or dismissal of this idea in lieu of attacks against Asian American women.

This blog was created with the intention of combatting those beliefs. But I’ve found myself asking: am I having the impact I expect of this blog? I don’t know. I’m tired of discussions of sexism being misconstrued as male-bashing, I’m tired of people who don’t know feminism thinking they can define it, and above all, I am tired of the suspicion of my racial solidarity and my pride in the Asian American community because of my identification as a feminist and the choices in my personal life. I’m tired of constantly talking and not being heard, and having to defend who I am to the men in my community. I’m saddened by the countless emails from feminists who write to me to tell me that the hoarde of anti-feminist commentors on this blog have chased them from commenting. I feel like I’ve been banging my head against a brick wall, and all I have to show for it is ostracization, derision, and occasionally ridicule from some Asian American men. I feel like the adage “working twice as hard to get half as far” is poignantly relevant to how hard I’ve struggled for the same acceptance in the APIA online community that some of my male colleagues enjoy almost innately.

Meanwhile, as my personal life is picked apart in the abstract terms of “The IR Debate”, I’m losing focus on why I love the Asian American community, and why I love blogging. At this point, I have allowed my emotional responses to a steady cacophony of disrespect and condescension (and outright misogyny) turn me into the very problem I have spoken against for four years — I’m losing the ability to distinguish between those with respectful discussion and those who would crucify my loved ones on the alter of anti-feminist misogyny.

I should apologize, but I can’t. I know my reaction right now is human, born of frustration, anger and, yes — as cliched as it sounds — tears. And I don’t think I can apologize for being human.

So, with the practical concerns of my obligations as a graduate student, and these abstract frustrations with my blog, I think I need some down-time away from the in-fighting. I need to rest, recoup, and re-learn my pride and respect for the Asian American community. I need to remember why I tolerate the incessant condescension, the marginalization, and the sometimes outright sexism in the Asian American community; I need to remember that light I know is at the end of the tunnel. I need to remember that advances in APIA feminism is measured in inches, not miles, and that there is a silent majority of Asian American readers who also believe in that dream of a united, politicized Asian American community, and who will re-emerge when this blog once again becomes a safe space for academic exploration of a diversity of Asian American and feminist-oriented thought and ideas.

It’s telling to me that this kind of hiatus occurs so frequently in the feminism of colour blogosphere. Something about having to fight the tides of racism in the feminist community and the sexism within our racialized communities makes us more susceptible to weariness. We are fighting a war on two fronts; perhaps this is why so few feminists of colour blog, and our blogosphere community remains so small. Perhaps this periodic need to rejuvenate is all the evidence needed to demonstrate how difficult it is to exist at the political intersection of race and gender.

For the next couple of weeks, while I am preparing for and attending my scientific conference in San Diego, I’ve empowered electroman to post articles and content relevant to the Asian American community on this blog on a daily basis, including articles that I will forward for him to post. I will have offline conversations with him on Asian American identity and feminism that he will then write up for me — to do the legwork of communicating my thoughts into written form for me, and save me the time of writing it myself. He will sign all posts with his name so you know that he had a hand in writing, but you should respect his guest-blogging as communicating ideas that originated from me.

I will not be reading comments for the days that I am gone.

I will be back and hopefully completely rejuvenated to turn Reappropriate into a safe space for intellectual, Asian American and feminist discussion by April 11th at the latest. On that day, I will have just arrived in NYC for the NYSAAC conference and will hopefully be live-blogging that experience.

If you are interested in guest-blogging from a politicized Asian American and/or feminist perspective during my hiatus, please contact me at jenn@reappropriate.com so we can discuss potential terms of guest-blogging.

During the entire time I am gone, I will still be checking (and responding to) email and accepting story ideas. You can contact me at jenn@reappropriate.com.

Okay, so I actually hit up YouTube to post the latest on Ramiele, but I found this on the main site.

Is that an interracial chocolate bunny couple?

I’m really excited to announce that my very first first-author publication was just accepted for publication. It is a review article on cancer – a revised version of one of my written comprehensive exam answers – that will be published later in the year in Seminars in Cancer Biology.

Yay!

There’s a brand-spankin’ new podcast episode over at Fallout Central. I’m on for the second half with my Political Ticker segment, then I stuck around for the discussion on the Chinese Laundry ad with Brown University student, W.J., and the debate on Asian American Studies at Hunter College and — of course, my favourite topic ever — Bai Ling!!

Check it out here.

For those of you in the Boston area, the Fallout Central guys have been invited to give a seminar at Wellesley College at an Asian American student conference, the weekend of April 5-6. Unfortunately, I could find no other information on the event.

And the rumour in the wind is that the following Saturday (April 12th), Fallout Central will be running a seminar at NYCAASC, and there’s a good chance that I will be joining them (since a trip to NYC to meet my Fallout Central pals is long overdue). So, if you’re not busy that weekend, come check out the conference and hopefully I’ll get to meet you there! Should be a blast! 

Two University of Arizona medical students, just emerging out of an exam.

Student: (to friend) Man, that exam was, like, totally hard! I actually had to, like, think on every question…

Don’t get sick, people. That’s your future doctor.