Pearls of Wisdom: Itsy bitsy caterpillars and other signs of spring

Spring has arrived here on the Farm, and that can only mean four things.
1. Caterpillars

Apparently, someone upstairs didn’t get the memo that students are the only entities allowed to be in gestation here. As if campus housing wasn’t crowded enough, now the furry creatures “position themselves in trees to prepare for the next stage in their lives,” according to an article in last week’s Daily. While I highly doubt that anyone was planning to Draw into the trees in the Oval, I prefer life with as little competition as possible (now I’m starting to sound like my father, who has long since declared war on the rodents, insects and fungi of the natural world). When they start showing up in class and preregistering on Axess, I will be very upset.

Obviously in response to the numerous Facebook groups and political campaigns focused exclusively on the compelling issue of caterpillar control, Stanford’s administration has taken action. The Stanford news server recently reported the planned release of “predatory spined soldier bugs” and noted that “reinforcements will be sent in later in the season, in the form of predatory nematodes.” In addition to forming an alliance with the better-armed half of the natural world, Stanford has begun “power-washing” affected trees. The metaphor is so ripe that I’m not even sure which direction to take it.

Finally, the news report noted that contact with the caterpillars can cause allergic reactions, both dermatological and, if inhaled, respiratory. There was no mention of their hallucinogenic potential. Let that be a warning to all of you entrepreneurial chemists out there who hoped to translate the plague into your own fiscal gain.

Speaking of plagues, what with the recent Passover holiday, perhaps we should be slightly more concerned about the implicit message of our own locust-like infestation. Might someone upstairs be trying to tell us something?
2. Class outside

Perhaps the message is that we should stop begging professors to hold class outside (I’m sure there’s been a statistically significant drop in these pleas over the past two weeks).

Sure, our admissions brochures and admit website feature numerous pictures of appropriately diverse, J. Crew-clad classes outside and deep in thought and conversation, but I’ve learned something from my own teaching experience: Although one’s eyes are more likely to stay open outdoors, they will most definitely not focus on the textbook in one’s lap. There are birds, squirrels and other, um, compelling species to observe. And this time I’m not referring to our eight-footed new neighbors.
3. Courtship

After a long, somewhat rainy winter, who isn’t ready to get out and roll in the grass? Or, more accurately these days, stay inside and roll around on an insect-free twin extra long?

Obviously, seniors should be capitalizing on their final eight weeks of interaction with their long-harbored crushes. Just think — even if it ends badly, as it usually does, in just a few short weeks you’ll be on opposite sides of the state/country/globe. If that’s not compelling enough, then consider this: This is your last chance — at least until your five-year reunion, at which point one or both of you may be legally bound to someone else, a fact which will either make the aforementioned awkward ending entirely inconsequential or even more uncomfortable.

For everyone else, focus on the spring fling/spring fever excuse. In terms of whom to fling (aside from the caterpillar that just landed on your shirt), I can offer only one piece of advice: Someone who will land softly. BFFs do not make good projectiles, nor do TAs. Avoid big egos and anyone in whom you have an emotional (or academic) investment.
4. Cold chocolate

Somewhere, I’m sure chocolate-covered caterpillars are considered a delicacy (Google tells me there are over 150,000 sites where I can “buy chocolate covered caterpillars,” and several of them look legitimate). But here in the land of Yumi Yogurt, I prefer desserts of the (crunch-optional) soft-serve variety.

For those of you who still eat within walking distance of a soft serve machine and have yet to be initiated into the Stanford fold, Yumi Yogurt is located a good 15 to 20 minutes away on El Camino in Redwood City. It is not to be confused with the far inferior Yogurt Stop, also located on El Camino, but much, much closer to campus and much, much less delicious (not to mention more expensive).

Never ones to shy away from difficulty when there’s a valuable reward to be had, Stanford students regularly make the pilgrimage to the land of extra-large portions and extremely long lines (which, even in the dead of winter, often snake out the door). Unofficially sponsored by the NCAA and the Intersorority Council, Yumi regularly hosts informal team meetings and gossip sessions; even now, years after graduation, the Collins twins stop by when they’re in the area. One of my friends is convinced Yumi laces its concoctions with crack cocaine, but I’ve done enough Sleep and Dreams research to know that every frozen dairy product contains caffeine. Add in sugar and, depending on your flavor of choice, neon coloring, and it’s no wonder that Yumi enjoys cult status.

Being the multi-tasker that I am, I propose the following kill-all-caterpillars-with-one-stone approach to spring quarter: relocate the Quad to Sequoia High School (conveniently across the street from Yumi and in possession of a large, grassy football field). Just make sure the caterpillars stay on the Farm; they may be hungry, and Yumi’s portions may be large, but I refuse to share my Ultimate Fudge Brownie.

Email Lisa at lisame@stanford.edu, and she’ll get back to you just as soon as she returns from Mecca.