I don’t know everyone on this post, so I thought I would just introduce myself. Hello, my name is Liz. I moved from Lawrence 4 years ago and have been on the west coast ever since. Also, I am Trevor’s cousin. Nice to meet you. There, done.
I am, at the moment, and for most moments for the next 6 weeks, studying for my qualifying exams, writing my proposal, and writing a computer model to look at how well marine reserves work when you assume adult animals move (as they often do). So I will pose a question:
What do you know about marine reserves?
I have been working on this for so long that I have no idea anymore what the average intelligent person who isn’t entrenched in this everyday thinks or knows about the subject, and I am very interested to find out.
If you would like to know more I can send my powerpoint to Trevor. He gives a mean presentation of my project. But you’ll have to get him drunk first.
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The answer to your question is “nothing,” which is why there’s been no response; sorry, dude. I did want to say Hello, though, and nice to meet you, and damn I wish I could meet you in person because then maybe I could determine what is genetic as opposed to personality and nurture with trev. Hmm.
Nothing is a perfectly acceptable and informative answer. It is becoming clear what a rabbit hole I’m in. Although maybe if I asked people who live on a coast…
With regards to trevor, I got the genes, so his personality must be working extra hard.
burn!
I am such a weird person to be talking to you about this…and not at all because I now do live on a coast, or because I generally feel strongly that some folk somewhere should be working to preserve land in all ways. Mostly because my own academic shotsky tangentially relates to the words Marine and Reserves, just in a military context. This should turn our mutual friend’s brain inside out
very interesting… what is this academic shotsky? I am officially hooked, reel me in. ha ha, fish puns only funny to me. ugh…….
It has been my experience that Trevor operates at peak performance when drunk.
At 5:30 in the morning, using the half empty tequila bottle as a visual aide, he can explain the cosmos, it’s relativity to the significance of love and fear, and why the fucking Royals really are a good baseball team.
In these circumstances Trevor has the capacity to unfold the very meaning of the origami bird of life before your eyes, and in the next moment, smack you in the face with his open hand just to drive the point home.
I only say that because it’s happened to me on more occassions than i even care to think about.
Under these very specific circumstances he is never, ever wrong. He’s just plain spooky that way.