The Day I Learn How to Escape Zip Ties Always

I’d like to start off my account of today by saying I looked very cute.  I left my hair curly and had a hat on.  I got several comments.  I only bring this up to a. make myself feel nice and b. explain why I was so darn productive today.  I’m unusually productive on cute days.  It also may have been the four cups of coffee.  So.  The day started off well.  We had a team meeting and decided our tasks and all that.  Jennifer and I started the day by attempting to get an estimate of the stature of our victim (Sheila).  We measure all the long bones and found tables with equations to plug these measurements into.  The problem with this was we needed to know the geographic history of our person for these tables to be of any use. So, we set about the next task of trying to figure out the ethnicity of our skeleton.  This is a tricky thing to do since most anthropologists are really against the idea of race in general, and so most people don’t publish how to figure it out.  Even then, most measurements re pretty subjective.  This being said, it took us a long while to find a source t use and then to figure it out since our person had really mixed traits and some kept pointing to European ancestry whilst others were Asian and African American.  It was all quite confusing.  Eventually, we decided that most traits leaned toward white, and we determined her stature range to be 146cm – 155cm, with a mean of 150.17cm, making her about 5’3”. 

Natalie is our team leader for a reason.  She’s amazing and intelligent.  I say this because she always has brilliant ideas.  Sheila, hen we dug her up, had her wrists and ankles bound with zip ties.  When we got our real skeleton, there were cut marks on the lateral and medial edges of tibias, fibulas, radii, and on the articulating carpals of both hands.  We wanted to know if the zip ties could make these marks if the victim, while living, had struggled against her restraints good deal.  So, Natalie bought pigs feet and zip ties.   This lead to Jennifer and I spending a large part of our mornings on the lawn with gloves on, pulling on bound pigs feet, trying to see if the zip ties cut through flesh or left mark on bone (one side was fleshed and the other was not).  This would have been fine if the feed hadn’t smelled like awful and if it hadn’t been a new student orientation day.  Regardless, after much laboring, we determined the marks on the bones couldn’t be made from zip ties.  So what were they?  Did someone attempt to disarticulate our victim?  Did she pull a Mad Max and try to cut the ties off and in turn cut herself?  Heidi and Nick let us ponder this question for several hours of our precious lab time before having mercy on us and telling us the marks were from the processing of the skeleton.  Because that’s not important information they should have given us at the beginning.  It’s not like we wasted a whole morning or anything.  It’s not like I had to pull on smelly slimy pigs feet or no reason.  It’s not like they took pictures.  That’s fine.  I got to be king of the lab for a day.  So there. 

I finished mapping today, which felt really good.  After that, I didn’t really know what to do with myself so I started examining the skeleton more closely.  I noticed not all the epiphyseal lines on the sacrum were fused, and I wondered if that could help determine age, since they fuse top to bottom.  Turns out they can and through some extra research I narrowed the age range from 19-34 to 24-25.  Neat.  I also noticed a gap at the distal end of the medial sacral crest, which is where the neural arched off the last five lumbar vertebrae fuse together to form a protective sheath for the end of the spinal chord.  Generally, this is called spnia bifida and leads to great pain, but this was really minor, so I was doing some research and it turns out it’s only a sacral hiatus.  Cool.  It’s not really important, but I learned something.  We also did some more evidence analysis and some blood tests.  We’re all really confused since the blunt force trauma to the face and head of Sheila look as if they would have lead to quite a bit of blood, and yet there is very little on any of the clothing.  We’re not sure what’s up with that.

I spent some of the afternoon writing up my part of the final report and starting the PowerPoint and works cited for everyone.  We all ended the day by deciding how to date the postmortem interval.  Tomorrow shall be grand, I’m sure. 

I Meet the Real Sheila

On Friday we finally got to see our actual skeleton.  It wasn’t until after lunch, however, because we had quite a few things we needed to do beforehand.  Firstly, we had to wash the bones of the plastic skeleton we got out of the ground.  We also had to take inventory on our field kits.  This took a while.  I mostly spend my morning doing most of the mapping before we got to go to lunch and see our real victim.  I didn’t quite finish, but I was happy with my progress. 

 Our victim is a young female.  Jenifer and I aged and sexed her while Jackie worked on trauma and pathology, Mary took bone measurements, and Jeff did some other stuff.  I pretty much never know what Jeff is doing.  I assume it’s important since he’s lab leader and all that.  We also found out the dentition of our skeleton must be disregarded, and the skull cannot be used for aging.  This is a problem, since we were getting huge possible ranges from the auricular surfaces and pubic symphysis.  So, we shall see.  Natalie mainly worked wit evidence.  Nothing too exciting happened beyond that.

After lab, many of us went to Bueno y Sano to eat delicious burritos.  It was great and them ice cream happened and it was even better.  Although we had talked abut getting together Friday or Saturday night, it never really happened.  Therefore, I spend my weekend watching the entirety of Game of Thrones.  SO.  GOOD.  On Sunday, us Cashin folk ordered pizza and ate that for social time.  Other than that, sleep occurred.  Although it wasn’t very good sleep due to how Cashin has no temperature control and the outside was over ninety degrees each day, making the brick inside a sweltering and uncomfortable level of heat.  I also took a shower somewhere in there.  Hygiene and all that.  

Shoveling is Kind of Dangerous

Today was a day of heat and hard labor.  We started off thinking today would be an easy day to just finish things up.  Yeah.  Not so much.  The first half of the day was well spend digging a few centimeters below where the body was, but we ended up not finding anything.  We also did some mapping and some leaf sifting.  We also shovel skimmed the two back units that we had left at a higher level and brought everything down to an even 50.  Again, nothing was found.  We were kind of upset because that was a lot of extra work for nothing, but it was fine.

What our pile of dirt felt like.

After lunch, we needed to backfill.  This requires someone to put all of the dirt you have taken out of your unit back into the unit.  The piles were gigantic since our excavation site was six meters square and 50 centimeters deep.  Lots of shoveling occurred by three of us whilst the others continued sifting leaves.  I have determined that shoveling is the devil.  I hate it.  And it was really hot out.  Now, I’m not complaining.  Because I did all the work without saying anything and we got it done before the end of the day.  I’m just saying there was little fun to be had except for the occasional song tat broke out.  Today we sang all of “Let’s Get Down to Business” from Mulan and “The Circle of Life” from The Lion King.  We’re considering starting a forensic a cappella group.  Eventually, Nick took pity on us and helped us shovel.  After we were all finished with that, we needed to clean all the tools we had used in the field so they could be clean for next years group and so we could return some of them to ARC services.  This basically entailed brushing the dirt off of EVERYTHING.  SO MUCH DIRT.  Some things don’t clean easily, such as tarps that have been on the ground and under piles of backfill for two weeks during rain and heat.  But we managed.  Let’s just say the shower I took today was about twice as long as most other showers. 

What our pile of dirt realistically
looked like.

Tomorrow is our first day in the lab.  It was sad to leave the field, but I’m excited to do some analysis and put all of our data to use.  Thus afternoon, Jackie, Lauren, and I ordered pizza and much television was watched.  I enjoy this schedule thoroughly.  

The InstaMold Experience

Today was the very first day I have ever been able to wear a sweatshirt in the field, and it was absolutely glorious.  Our activities today consisted largely of mapping some of the clothing, getting infinite measurements, and removing the rest of the skeleton from the burial.  After this was achieved, we leveled the ground underneath to see if any evidence had sunk below the bone.  So far, this has yielded very little, meaning nothing, but we’re going to take the whole area down another five centimeters tomorrow, as well, so we shall see how that goes.  We’ve also been continuously sifting through the leaves, which is disheartening and boring.  That will also continue tomorrow.  Today was the penultimate day of fieldwork, which is kind of sad because I really enjoy the field. 

After lifting the shirt of the skeleton out of the burial, we encountered a preserved footprint underneath it, so we were pretty sure it wasn’t one of ours.  We were then faced with the problem of how to preserve such a thing.  Real forensic anthropologists use a special kind of plaster for such things.  Heidi went to Michael’s, which yielded InstaMold.  If you think this name sounds exciting, it’s because it does.  InstaMold leads to adventures.  This is mostly sue to the fact that the directions give no clear instructions on how much water goes with an amount of InstaMold powder.  This resulted in an abundance of trial and error by me, the InstaMold representative.  It was also kind of humorous because to make the solution in, Heidi bought us a blue bucket with a sand shovel.  So that’s what I was stirring with.  Yes.  Anyway, eventually the texture became less gelatinous and more pourable.  So we’re letting that cast sit over night.  We shall see.

After lunch, Heidi and Nick through us for a loop.  Apparently our “informant” decided to tell us that something had been thrown outside of the fenced area.  This left us with a secondary site to survey in the extreme abundance of time we had left.  To make matters even better, this site is larger than the one we started out with.  And we had to finish it by the end of the day.  Anyway, we did two pedestrian surveys, which didn’t yield very much.  Eventually we found a flashlight that had been hollowed out, some duct tape, a bike lock, a film canister, and a glove, which was actually an accidental but awesome find.  So we mapped site two and bagged all of that stuff.  That took until the end of the day pretty much.  I also found a tibia from a squirrel, which wasn’t evidence, but was still kind of neat. 

Tonight will be television and LAUNDRY.  MY FAVORITE.  

The Day We Accidentally Used Evidence for Personal Use

I take back what I said yesterday about no day being good conditions for archaeology.  Today was perfect.  It was abut 70 degrees and sunny, but we were in the trees.  There were light showers that never really touched us, as well.  Furthermore, my team was pretty much done with all of the digging and had our skeleton almost entirely exposed.  So, today, I got to spend my time sitting on an overturned bucket and supervising the people who were making measurements of the placements of all the bones so that I could later map the exact location of them.  It was technical and sometimes frustrating, but it definitely wasn’t hard labor, and I didn’t even get dirty.

The day started out pretty well, too.  It’s Tuesday, which means it was muffin day.  Last Friday the muffin wars had gotten pretty intense, as the muffin monitor and her student accomplice had been posted full time.  We also overheard an important conversation between the two of them that they may be moving the muffin station to a different hallway because they were sick of us mooching.  I , personally, fins this a little hypocritical since I’ve clearly seen the muffin monitor eating cereal from the display, which isn’t even at all subtle.  This, of course, was terrible news.  So we were all pretty overjoyed today when the muffin station was still there and there was nobody watching them.  Clearly, we all took muffins.  But then, she came back.  The look on her face when she saw us, even though no one was still eating, was ridiculous.  I’ve never seen anyone look like the cartoon portrayal of anger before, but she sure did.  Also, she counted the muffins.  And then she got angrier.  But then we left for the field, so it was cool. 

Realizing I wasn’t in the front of the crowd and therefore not in the prime position to call shotgun on the way out of the building, I started booking it to the front.  Jackie saw me doing this and that traitor yelled to Oliver to call it, which he did.  It all worked out for me, though, when he realized that the front set of the van is actually pretty small.  And when I say pretty small, I mean like almost not a real seat.   It works for me since I’m 5’2” and have the shortest legs evolution could create, but Oliver is like straight up 6’ and has the legs of a giraffe.  So he was unhappy.  To make things even better, I then called shotgun in Heidi’s car, which is a comfy little sedan with air conditioning and awesomeness.  And, because my life is so great, it turned out to be a day that Heidi had to drive all the way up to the site instead of having to park a quarter mile away with the van.  I don’t think Oliver will be calling shotgun any time soon. 

My team started taking the bones out today, which was kind of neat.  It lead to a lot of evidence being collected and a lot of writing that had to be done.  We also decided, finally, to sift all the leaf litter on the surface, which we honestly should have done the very first day.  We ended up finding this purple ponytail holder.  Jackie asked anyone if it was his or hers, and Natalie said it was.  I looked at Natalie’s hair, and sure enough, she had a purple one in.  Later that day, after the case of the purple ponytail holder had been put to rest, Heidi slyly asked us if we’d found anything purple.  We of course said yes, but then we said it was Natalie’s.  After a side powwow with whispers between her and Nick, Heidi told us it was actually evidence.  Ha.  It was actually kind of cool though because it still had hair attached to it.  So.  DNA and all that. 

Heidi’s husband came to lunch to take about resumes and letters of recommendation for grad school, which was really helpful.  We all had infinite questions.   Also, I accurately guessed Heidi’s age, even though nobody knew what it was.  I told her I knew and she asked me how so I explained that se told me she’s been married for eleven years.  So since 2001.  She also, at one point, told me she’d been dating her husband for five years before that.  That’s 1996.  She said at the beginning of class she met her husband and broke up with her old boyfriend both in sophomore year of college.  It that was 1996, that makes her 37 now.  I was right, and she was concerned that she’d told me more than she intended to. 

The rest of the day was spend eating boneless wings and watching season two of Pretty Little Liars.  I also started Boy Meets World.  Good choices have been made. Plus, Linkin Park's new album came out yesterday, so music is being listened to.

The Day I Accidentally Assaulted a Senior FBI Agent and Other Tales of Glory

The rules of shotgun are simple and finite.  You can call shotgun when the car is in site, and the person to call shotgun first receives the seat next to the driver.  There are precious few exceptions to the rule, all having to do with relationship to the driver: girlfriend, wife, and older sister.  That’s it.  I’ve grown up with these rules and live by them accordingly.  Now, shotgun was not a huge deal here to begin with.  What I mean by that is we would go outside to the van and nobody would call it.  Noticing this, I decided that I should just get shotgun then if no one called it.  The problem with this, of course, was that I had to call it to make sure I got it.  This tactic aroused the attention of my classmates who thus began to realize that this seat was up for grabs.  So, I accidentally made it a thing.  This applies particularly to Oliver, who wants shotgun at all times just to spite me.  The problem is, we have a lot of things going on in our loves and very few car rides.  This results in no one remembering to call shotgun.  They all forget.  But I never forget.  So, I almost always get it.  Sure, I’ve been beat once or twice, but literally that’s it.  I even give Oliver a chance sometimes.  This morning I let him walk all the way up to the van before I called it.  It’s not my fault he doesn’t remember.  However, most the time, I call it before he’s even in site of the car, or if I just yell it faster than him.  Today, I called it right as the van pulled up to the site.  And thus you have learned the story of how I got upgraded to class one nemesis. 

First off, Nick always drives the van and so none of the exceptions to shotgun apply to anyone we work with and he also always keeps tabs on who said it first just to maintain decorum and an air of justice.  Therefore, it’s up for grabs.  I only mention this because today it was raining and Heidi didn’t want to walk all the way to her car because it’s in a lot that’s kind of a hike away.  I called shotgun, just as I do every other day.  I get into the seat, close the door, and put my seatbelt on.  Then Heidi taps on my door.  I looked at her through the window, and she gave me a very stern look that Aunt Phyllis’ would have been proud of.  I just continued to look at her.  She put her hands on her hips all sassy like.  So, with years of practice of keeping shotgun when someone is attempting to physically steal it from me, I opened the door just a crack, which wasn’t enough for her to gain purchase had she attempted to pull on it but enough for her to hear me.  I said very quickly, “I called it first.” And I shut the door.  She got into the back.  Shelby: 1, Authority: 0.  This success was not very long lasting because later in the day I very loudly called shotgun and, even tough there were probably 50 meters between us, I could see Heidi’s disapproving look and the shake of her head.  Shelby: 1, Authority: 1.

How you feel when you know you're going to be digging
in the rain.  Or the heat.  

Today was an interesting day because it was supposed to start raining early on in the day.  In fact, the weather application on my phone said that chances of thunderstorms were 100%, which, personally, I thought was kind of a bold move on the apps part.  But they were apparently very certain.  Anyway, with this in mind, I dressed in things that would dry quickly.  The unfortunate aspect of this day was that, even though the temperature was only like 65 degrees, the humidity made it feel like 85.  Awesome.  I wore my raincoat.  It was sticky.  Now, the most important thing you have to understand about archaeology is that it’s uncomfortable.  All the ways it can be done equal wishing you were cool, dry, or clean.  It’s a heat advisory? Hard labor.  Sweat makes mud.  It’s raining like the dickens? Hard labor, rain makes mud.  It’s really the perfect temperature?  You’re still on your stomach digging four feet down and you knees hurt.  Don’t get me wrong, I do love it.  But sometimes it just seems like you shouldn’t be outside.  Today was one of those days.  And the coffee place was closed.  So.  There’s that. 

We all piled into the van at eight all ready to go but also aware that the sky looked like it was really close to pooping on us.  But we drive to the site anyway.  And then turn around and drive right back because there is lighting.  Now, you’d think this would be nice.  Like, woohoo!  No digging in the mud!  But you’d be wrong because we are on a tie constraint and need to get our excavations done this week.  Losing a day is kind of the worst.  But we did things in the lab, relabeled some stuff, I did one of the maps I needed to get done, and I wrote up all the stuff for my chain of evidence project.  Plus, we had a coffee break and a guest speaker for lunch. 

Our guest speaker was different than the other ones we’ve had.  His name was Robert Lewis, Supervisory Special Agent at the Federal Bureau of Investigations.  He gave a really great tale about how evidence collection is important and the kinds of teams the FBI uses.  He also talked about some of the cases he has personally worked on.  It was really cool, especially when he started giving us insights for later applying to the FBI.  Anyway, we then took him to see our sites because by then, the lightning had stopped and we were going to go dig since it was no longer pouring and now there was only aggressive condensation.  This is when the first shotgun incident with Heidi occurred.  Anyway, we got to the site and uncovered our skeleton.  My team went first and we explained our whole projects and such.  Success.  The next team was the bioarchaeology team.  Now here’s where things get a little bit sketchy.  When they took their tarp off, a very large toad was revealed.  I believe the technical term would be fatty fatty boom blatty.  Anyway, Mr. Obesity started jumping around and not everyone saw him.  Now, if you’re reading this, you probably know me well enough to know how I feel about toads.  Anyway, of course I chased it.  And he was heading for a shoe.  Or, more accurately, he was on the ground and a shoe was heading for him.  I took action, focused only on saving an innocent life. Unfortunately, this action involved pushing this shoe away so the toad was not flattened into a fat pancake.  And when I say pushing, I really mean unkindly shoving.  Even more unfortunately, the man I pushed was Robert Lewis, Supervisory Special Agent at the Federal Bureau of Investigations.  Thus how I accidentally assaulted a senior FBI agent.  So, after releasing Sir Jumbotron into the wild a safe distance from the site, I cautiously went over to Mr. Lewis and told him I was deeply sorry for my actions.  He looked me straight in the eye and said, “All the matters is that the toad is safe.”  And that’s how we became friends.  Because it’s an absolutely true statement.  Yes.  Plus we had the same brand of rain jacket, so we had a clothing connection.  And were twinsies. 

We worked for the rest of the day in the field until it started to get all bad and lightning-y again, which was around 3:30.  The only thing we really accomplished today was to remove the underwear from the victim, which was laying a level above the skeleton, so we could uncover the phalanges as well as the distal ends of both radii and the left ulna.  We all wanted to stay and not lose time, but apparently the waiver we signed doesn’t include death by electrocution.  All my stuff is wet, but I had on my awesome rain jacket, so I was good to go.  This is when Heidi didn’t let me have shotgun.  On the way back, we were all talking about what would happen if the van got stuck in the mud, and Heidi said we’d have to push.  I immediately did what my instincts warranted, which was to nose goes that situation, which is a completely legitimate way of deciding things and has pretty much always worked the in the past.  This is used when you wish to opt out of something and so put your finger on your nose indicating that you do not have to participate is said action.  Generally, the last person to touch their nose is stuck with this activity.  This was how I found out that Heidi doesn’t play by the rules of life.