If I could communicate with my mice, I'd tell them not to crap all over their exercise wheel. Supposedly mice (and rabbits and other small caged animals) dedicate a particular area of their cage in which to defecate. And it seems that the girl mice have chosen their exercise wheel instead of the ample odor absorbing recycled paper based biodegradable litter that covers the entire floor of their tank. I'm just a bit perturbed that I just cleaned out their tank on Tuesday and now their pink plastic wheel is already soiled and stinky again. Next time I see one of the (slotted) metal ones, I'm buying it and chucking the (solid) plastic one.

In the past couple of weeks I've rekindled my love of digital cameras. Other people's digital cameras to be more specific. Darrett left his camera on the table at his grad party, so Chad, Ed, and I wrote messages on the paper napkins and photographed them for him to discover whenever he got around to downloading them. And last Sunday Chad accidentally left his camera with Darrett and I when we split up from our eating venue to meet up again at the movie theaters. (Yes, I've seen a lot of movies lately. My favorite summer movie so far is Bend It Like Beckham.) We took several pictures of each other, us together, and the passing scenery in our five minute car ride and walk from the parking lot. I'm sure the car behind us at the stoplight was probably wondering about the flash continuously going off. Because digital is so disposable it's much more freeing to be creative and impulsive since you're only really wasting battery power. And instead of just the normal shots of us posed nicely sitting straight similing for the camera pretending to be well behaved, which Chad had already taken at the restaurant, we have what would have amounted to several rolls of pictures of us goofing around, laughing, and being more of ourselves than a pretty picture.