There are two types of earwax in this world: dry and flaky, and wet and sticky.

Which type you get is controlled by a single gene – the ATP-binding cassette C11 gene – so now would be a nice time to call your parents and thank them for your waxy secretions. While some groups are more evenly divided, almost all East Asians have the dry, flaky kind and almost all whites and blacks have the wet, sticky kind.

I have both types.

A quick examination of my last name and fluffy hair reveals that I’m multi-racial – Japanese, Chinese, European (Heinz 57-style) and American Indian.

Fellow columnist and bush-league badmintonist Michelle Rick is multi-racial, too (I have no idea what kind of earwax she has though). Last week, she wrote about how much it grinds her gears when strangers ask for an ethnic ID before knowing her name.

Personally, I like it when people ask about my ethnicity. It’s a sign that 1) we’re all friendly enough folks here in Davis that we can strike up conversations out of interest in one another, and 2) the person inquiring doesn’t think race is a taboo topic – probably because they don’t think it has any bearing on one’s worth as a person.

Of course, everyone is entitled to a few pet peeves. Mine is when someone asks, “What’s your nationality?” at which point I whip out my U.S. passport, outline when each branch of my family tree immigrated and declare my American citizenship. You’re better off using a term like “ethnic background” – though this, too, is inexact.

In fact, the terminology used in these issues – race, ethnicity, culture – can get pretty confusing (so forgive any foibles I myself make here). Even more dangerous, the ideas themselves can get confused. I think that’s what Michelle is talking about when she says people look at her race and make assumptions about her culture. There’s a significant correlation between race and culture, but it’s not an unbreakable bond. And we certainly can’t reliably decide how to relate to someone culturally by assessing them racially.

Even so, just because it’s not easy to perceive someone’s culture (or even our own) doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile. When we’re kids, our teachers tell us “culture” is the collection of fun facts about people who celebrate different holidays than we do.

It’s more than that, though. Our culture informs what we think about the world and – perhaps more significantly – how we think about the world. Moreover, it impacts how we relate to others and how we understand ourselves.

All this stuff has been rocking my world lately. Just as Michelle described putting each other into neat little race boxes, I started putting myself into a single culture box – the Caucasian American one. I can’t count how many times I’ve described my ethnic heritage to people and then added “but I’m pretty whitewashed.”

But two weeks ago, at a talk explaining worldview differences among several cultural groups, I started to realize: I’m not just a white person who happens to be really tan and always takes off her shoes indoors. I’ve internalized some much more significant aspects of East Asian culture, and not recognizing this till now has had consequences.

For instance, sometimes when my white friends would talk about their great relationships with their dads, I’d get a little jealous. Why didn’t my dad call me “sweetie” and say “I love you” all the time? Why is it so hard for me to hug him? My (Caucasian) mom does all that mushy stuff – why doesn’t he? And a tiny voice would whisper, “Maybe … maybe he doesn’t love you all that much.” A louder voice would then say, “That’s ridiculous. Of course he loves you. Now, go read up on current events in Iran so you can earn his respect.”

So why doesn’t my father express affection this way? Well, golly, maybe it’s because he’s Asian. Instead of expressing love verbally or physically, he shows it through actions, like fixing my bike or putting his hard-earned money away ever since I was born so I could go to college. He loves me the way our culture loves. Understanding this made a big difference in my life – because, well, it kind of matters if you think your parents love you or not. (Disclaimer: If you’re Chinese and exchange X’s and O’s with your dad, that’s great. I’m just talking broad cultural trends here.)

Looking through the lens of culture won’t solve all the world’s problems, but it’s a start. I guess it’s finally time for me to embrace both my dry, flaky side as well as my wet, sticky one. Wow, that was gross.

BETH SEKISHIRO hasn’t yet found anything in the scientific literature confirming that codominance in earwax type is possible, but she swears she has both types! If you are fancy-dancy scientist and want to be the first to document this phenomenon, contact her at blseki@ucdavis.edu.

“I think my boyfriend might be cheating on me,” said the voice.

It was last Monday morning. I hadn’t slept a wink (procrastination and papers don’t mix well) and a fire was lit under my ass: I had to finish up this paper, print it, shower, get fabulously dressed and accessorized with glitter all in less than half an hour. I was late.

But sweet salvation came in the form of my roommate and her little Nissan Sentra. She offered to drive me to class.

So we get into the car and the radio comes on. I half expected to hear Ke$ha’s “TiK ToK” – that song is always on – but I was surprised to hear the voice of a girl calling on a radio talk show.

Apparently, she called because she suspected her boyfriend of over a year was cheating. The reason behind her suspicion? She found a duffle bag with women’s tennis shoes and gym clothes that didn’t belong to her in her boyfriend’s trunk. Neither she nor the boyfriend works out.

She wasn’t convinced by the hosts’ “maybes” and “what-ifs.” So the hosts called her boyfriend under the guise of AT&T customer service reps. They tricked the sucker into thinking they were going to send him a bouquet of roses in appreciation of his continued business. He could either take it or have it sent as a gift to anyone of his choice.

“Send it to Mel, the hottest girl I know,” he said.

His girlfriend’s name is Grace.

That was when my roommate and I looked at each other and, in perfect unison, yelled, “daaayum.”

The jerk was caught. The girlfriend went off on him and ended it. Justice was served.

Being in a serious and committed relationship, I have very colorful words to describe the way I’d retaliate if I were cheated on. Arthur is rather fond of his genitals, so I don’t think he’ll be cheating on me soon – I’d cut his balls off.

Okay, so maybe that’s a little harsh. In the real world, I’d probably cry in sheer rage, drive him out of my apartment, shove all his shit into a garbage bag and throw it out the window for him to take. And that’d be that.

The reason behind my potential actions is simple: If someone cheats on you, they don’t respect you as much as you respect them. They throw away your relationship. They think nothing of it. Even if it was “just one time” (like that’s a valuable justification), cheating is always something very serious and should never be shrugged off.

But different people react to it in different ways.

Of course, I’ve made it very clear that I would not tolerate it at all. Last week, I mentioned I once dated a guy who was cheating on me with someone he found on Craigslist. Being cheated on hurt me on so many levels. Never in a million years do I want to feel that kind of pain again.

I asked Arthur what he’d do if I ever cheated on him.

“Of course, I’d feel bad,” he said. “It would hurt so much, but in all honesty, I think I’d take you back.”

That completely took me by surprise. I would have expected him to dump my ass and hate me forever. He said he could never hate me. (Well, like, duh! Who could ever hate me?)

But some people do end up taking cheaters back. Personally, I’d never do it. However, I’m not one to tell you exactly what to do. Taking a cheater back is completely up to you. And I’d never judge anyone on what they decide to do within their relationship. I’m just going to say this: If it happens again, you better get prepared for the single life.

If you find yourself on the other end of this – as the cheater – reflect on your relationship. Why did you feel the need to cheat? Is there something missing in your relationship? Is it getting boring for you? Are you just looking for sex? Whatever it may be, your commitment to your partner probably isn’t too strong – and your partner deserves to know what you did and how you feel.

The guy in the radio show said his reason for cheating was because he didn’t think he and his girlfriend were that serious yet. (This was when I was like, “For real? You’ve been together a whole year, douchebag. How the hell do you not figure you and her are that serious?”) He also said his girlfriend just wasn’t that pretty. Ouch.

If you’re unsure of how serious your relationship is, talk about it with your partner. Are you two willing to be completely monogamous and see no one else? Or will you two implement the “In an Open Relationship” option on Facebook?

The point I’m trying to make lies in one word: consent. As long as you and your partner establish the terms of your relationship and leave nothing ambiguous, everything should be fine. Nothing can be considered cheating if you have your partner’s consent to do it. Be polyamorous, be strictly one-on-one or be slutty – just make sure it’s what you and your partner are both okay with.

MARIO LUGO will be in this year’s “Pi Beta Phi presents Arrowjam,” inter-Greek lip-sync and dance competition. He, along with his fabulous Delta Lambda Phi brothers, will be working it and shakin’ some booty Thursday night. Come watch! He can be reached at mlugo@ucdavis.edu.

It’s a typical late night. I’m sitting with my laptop and chatting with a friend on AIM. The conversation is going smoothly, as indicated by the coherent sentences and replies every couple of seconds or so.

Although I’m working on a paper, I make the time to glance at the online chat between each sentence I type. That’s when I see “the word.” Actually, it isn’t even a real word – it’s an acronym. Three letters: LOL.

Dangit. Why that acronym?

When I first started chatting online (just last year – I was a late bloomer), I barely even knew “LOL” stood for “laughing out loud.” In my mind, the letters “LOL” still don’t really translate to “laughing out loud.” To me, they really mean “I have nothing to contribute to this conversation anymore.” It’s the perfect way to end a conversation, especially when you have no idea how to respond.

The advent of online chatting (and texting) has sprung an entirely new set of conversational etiquette. I don’t really have to actually bother faking a laugh when someone isn’t funny – all I have to do is type “LOL.” It must not really be that funny if I’m too lazy to type the four letters of “haha.”

So as I think through the awkward silence and inevitable end of the conversation, I turn my focus to another online conversation. That chat is with my apartment mate. She’s in the room next door. We do this on a daily basis – so much so that it’s no longer awkward. (Trust me, we used to laugh and squirm our way through replies. Well, at least I did.)

But at least we’re not in the same room, right? Well, we did the same thing last year from the same dorm room – desks touching each other, laptops parallel, chairs a foot apart.

During online chatting, not only is the situation quite awkward at times, but the conversations can also be awkward. This is especially true when you’re sitting, just waiting for your friend to reply. They don’t immediately reply, so you start to type – but lo and behold, that person finally starts typing (the pencil symbol pops up). You stop to wait for their reply, but then they stop, too. The complex mind game cycle never ends.

This would never happen if there was actual one-on-one contact. I mean, no one is really that courteous in real life with all the long pauses to formulate an articulate response and wait for the other person to speak. If you think about it, these pauses and over thinking of things really changes the dynamics of the conversation and relationship.

For example, every time I see that pencil symbol disappear midway through the supposed formulation of a thought, I go through a miniature panic attack in my head that basically goes:

What the heck – what were you about to say??? I need to know – it could’ve changed the entire conversation, and you were probably about to say something super meaningful … until you decided not to share it…thanks.

Of course, that would never cross my mind if the conversation were in person.

You can tell a lot about people from online interactions – or rather, lack of interaction. For instance, one look at your buddy chat list and you know who the procrastinators are. The number of people on the buddy list also somehow tends to lengthen on midterm and finals weeks.

But even with all this “online learning,” you can learn even more when you actually talk to the people on your buddy list in person. And no, it’s not just because “human contact is good for the soul” (which feels like something everyone lists under “favorite quotes” on their Facebook page).

Conversations in person just flow faster so you don’t get the moment to linger on some silly, annoying comment that may occur within in the chat. Plus, you don’t have to wait awkwardly for a “LOL” response after you make a joke. You just find out on the spot whether the joke was successful or not, and most likely get an honest reaction.

On the other hand, the wait and ambiguity of online conversations just make you too apprehensive for your own good. This apprehension is likely to be about your joke-making, sympathy-yielding and day-reviewing skills.

But of course, it might ultimately be nice to have the self-delusional comfort provided by the letters “LOL.”

TIFFANY LEW chatted online in three different conversations as she wrote this column. Each fulfilled the “online chatting etiquette” in its own way. E-mail her at tjlew@ucdavis.edu to help her decide whether she should stop chatting online or not.