Although I think I’m starting to lose track.
I don’t know how I’m ever going to get to sleep tonight when all I can think about is this:
P.S. No need to thank me on behalf of your father or Genovia. I only sent it because I thought it might help out your dad in the elections, and that, in turn, would make you happy. So you see my motives were completely selfish.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
An excerpt from Ransom My Heart by Daphne Delacroix
He felt her body tense, but when she tried to back away from him, two things happened simultaneously to thwart her escape. The first was that she came up against Violet’s solid flank. The mare only looked back at them, placidly chewing on some loose straw, and would not move. The second was that Hugo’s arms went around her, half-lifting Finnula off the ground even as his tongue slid into her mouth.
Finnula let out a mew of protest that was quickly stifled by his own mouth…but her protest seemed short-lived. Either Finnula was a woman who appreciated a good kiss, or she liked him, at least a bit. Because a second after his mouth met hers, her head fell back against his arm, and her lips opened like a blossom. He felt her relax against him, her hands, which previously had been trying to push him away, suddenly going around his neck to press him closer.
It wasn’t until he felt her tongue flick tentatively against his that he lost his careful control. Suddenly, he was kissing her even more urgently, his hands traveling down her sides, past her hips, until they lifted her full up against him.
Her firm breasts crushed against his chest, her thighs clenched tightly around his hips, Hugo molded Finnula against him, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her throat. The sensuous reaction he’d evoked from her amazed and excited him, and when she held his face between both her hands and rained kisses upon him, he groaned, both from the sweetness of the gesture and the fact that he could feel the heat from between her legs burning against his own urgent need.
Holding her to him with one arm, he swept open the collar of her shirt. Finnula let out another sound, this one a sigh of such longing that Hugo could not stifle a wordless cry, and he looked about for a pile of hay thick enough for them to lay in….
Thursday, May 4, Psychology final
Describe major histocompatibility complex.
This is so easy.
Major histocompatibility complex is the gene family found in most mammals that is responsible for reproductive success. These molecules, which are displayed on cell surfaces, control the immune system. They have the capacity to kill pathogens, or malfunctioning cells. In other words, MHC genes help the immune system to recognize and destroy invaders. This is especially useful in the selection of potential mates. MHC has recently been shown to play a crucial role, via olfaction (or sense of smell), in this capacity. It has been proven that the more diverse, or different, the MHC of the parent, the stronger the immune system of the child. Interestingly, MHC-mate dissimilar selection tendencies have been categorically determined in humans. The more dissimilar a male’s MHC to a female (this was without deodorant or cologne), the “better” he tended to smell to her in clinical studies. These studies have been duplicated time and again, with the same results. Mice and fish have shown similar—
Oh.
My.
God.
Thursday, May 4, Psych final
What am I going to do?
Seriously. This can’t be happening. I cannot be suffering from major histocompatibility complex for Michael. That is just…that is just ridiculous.
On the other hand…why else have I always been so drawn to—okay, completely obsessed with—the way his neck smells?
This explains everything. He is my perfect dissimilar MHC match! No wonder I’ve never been able to get over him! It’s not me, or my heart, or my brain…it’s my genes, crying out in longing for their complete and total genetic opposite!
And what about J.P.? This perfectly explains why I’ve never been that physically attracted to him…he’s never smelled like anything but dry-cleaning fluid to me. We’re too MHC compatible! We’re too close of a genetic match. We even look alike…the blond hair, light eyes, same build. How did that person put it, so long ago, who saw us together at the theater—“They make a very attractive couple. They’re both so tall and blond.”
No wonder J.P. and I have never even gotten past first base. Our molecules are like, REJECTION! REJECTION! DO NOT MATE!
And here I am, demanding that we do it anyway.
Well, with a condom.
But still. Offspring could result, down the line, if J.P. and I get married.
OH MY GOD! I wonder what kind of genetic defects our kids would have, considering I get no olfactory vibe from him at all! They’ll probably be born all aesthetically perfect—just like LANA!!!!
Which, think about it, is a serious genetic defect. Being born perfect would turn any kid into a horrible Cloverfield-type monster, just like Lana (well, for the first seventeen years of her life, considering how awful she was until I tamed her a bit). I mean, if you’re born perfect, like Lana, you never have to learn any coping mechanisms, the way I did growing up. Because beautiful people can often coast along on their looks, never having to develop a sense of humor, or compassion for others, or anything like that. Why would they have to? They’re perfect. If you’re born aesthetically beautiful, the way J.P. and my kids would be, basically, you’re a monster…and my genes know it.
That’s why whenever J.P. kisses me, I don’t get that thrill I always did when Michael kissed me…MY GENES DON’T WANT ME TO GIVE BIRTH TO GENETIC MONSTERS!!!!!