In which I study for a class (or at least put on such airs)

It's been a bit of a struggle to get back into school mode. Most of me wants to not study, and indeed I occupy myself with this very pursuit with a high degree of regularity. The last couple days, however, (and due, by and large, to my imposing manner and the grace and charity of certain members of my class) I have done some learning with others. I realize this is a bit out of character, but it seemed like the good thing to do. It's still a bit of a novelty, as previously my contact with anything that might be construed as "studying together" has been
a) me copying another's homework,
b) others copying my homework,
c) me teaching a kid 3 years younger than me (and often a few IQ points too (oh, that doesn't sound conceited (but seriously, how hard is it to figure out conversion factors?))) how to convert grams to moles, or
d) Matt Johns and I doing homework in the same room so that we only had to do half the problems.
In any case, all this collaboration has been in a "solving problems" situation, and never actually in a "memorize a good 3/4 of the entire Latin vocabulary and then associate it with structures, and then arteries, and then nerves, and then disorders" sense. It's like filling a shot glass with a fire hose.
Actually, I've been something of a parasite, because I haven't really had anything meaningful to contribute to any of these meetings. It feels something akin to being in a strange church when you're 12 years old and getting sent to the earlyteen Sabbath School that has only 7 kids and three of them are siblings and the whole class knows their Bible backwards and forwards so when they play their Sabbath School games they try to trick each other with their knowledges of Leviticus and III Micah, all in Arabic. And so I just sit there and think to myself, "Well, I'm going to hell." Only I feel worse about not knowing embryology than I do about not knowing the extra Bible stories, like the time Saul went to see the witch of Mordor (or maybe it was the Ewoks of Endor).
I feel like I should close with an AD quote. Wait, no, I made one of my own today. Well, maybe I can work the two together.

G.O.B.: I hear the jury's still out on science.
Me: It's not that I don't trust science. I just don't trust people who trust science.

Me again (in response, (a day late for the particular instance in which I'm thinking, which gave rise to the whole idea,) to people who like Grey's Anatomy and that McFlurry doctor): Charm itself is not a virtue, Mr. Wickham.
(Actually, I probably should have said Kitty instead of Wickham, but the allusion would have been lost, or more lost. For those of you who are lost, I promise I almost know what I'm talking about, and it really isn't so clever or funny that you should concern yourself with it. But I had to give something for the people who didn't catch my Matt Johns/AD/Star Wars/LOTR references. Though I would say that, by definition, these people probably have too little in common with me to care to be my friend)

Med School Day 10 Or: How I learned to stop worrying and almost ask a girl out

So, on my 8th day of wards I didn't really do much. Frequently I follow around a 3rd year resident to do consultations and see patients, and other times I watch Dr. Lee do endoscopies. But today I couldn't find my resident and I'd seen quite enough colons for a while, and so I sat and read. First I tried to look interested in gastroenterology stuff so the attendings and fellows would think well of me, but then I got bored so I read my book. Fortunately we had chapel (this is probably the first time I've ever thought so pleasantly of a chapel before it had occurred), so I got to leave early.

Everyone should know that it's Greg Nielsen's 21st birthday today. Please use this information appropriately. If you are not an appropriate-type person, it's probably best if you just disregard that information.

I bought books. If I had paid cash, my wallet would have been some ideal candidate for a weight loss ad.

My sister thinks it will be fun for her to invite her medical school friends over and me to invite my medical school friends over so that they can all become friends (and indeed, these are our Sabbath lunch plans). I want to, at this point, stress many a time that this is not my idea, nor would I ever be likely to have an idea such as this. In any case, this thing seems like it will actually go down, and so it is my responsibility to prove to my sister that I have more friends than her. Only the numbers are pretty even, and most of my friends are boys, and I'd rather not look completely homosocial. If Katrina was going to be here I wouldn't have had this problem.
It was at this point that it crossed my mind to invite some people I really don't know very well to lunch, in an effort to both be friendly and appear like I have more friends and even girl friends. (I know, I know, this isn't asking a girl out in the traditional sense, but sibling competition is no time for tradition. Actually, Danielle won't know it's a competition until she reads this post.) So I approached a couple of girls today with every intention of inviting them to Sabbath lunch. It would be a bit of a hyperbole to say that things went terribly wrong; I just never got around to inviting them. Still, they seem like they would be good company (I don't really know. I've only met them twice but they seem amiable enough) but the problem now is I don't believe I'll be seeing them before Friday, which seems like quite late notice for a Sabbath engagement (note to self: in the event that they might be marriage-crazy, refrain from use of that particular word).
Basically I see my options as such:
A. Friday invite. Sure it's late, but it's better than nothing. Plus cool people don't plan things until the last minute, so it might make me look cool.
B. No invite. This is far more in line with my reputation. Plus it would be very bothersome to have girls around here thinking that I might actually invite them somewhere. No use giving false hope, ya know?
C. Call them and invite them. A risky option because
a) I can't address them both at once, so whoever doesn't get the call might feel slighted. As a chronic people-pleaser, this does not sit well with me. Well, sitting in general does not sit well with me. I'm very fidgety.
b) I don't have their numbers, and so even if I was to obtain their numbers I'd have to find some way to explain this without saying something stupid like "I used to stalk people"
c) I really hate phones. I'm also quite bad on them. I usually end up saying something stupid on them

Decisions, decisions. I think I'll take a nap.

9 hours later...

So I did nap (kinda), and didn't call any girls (Dustin and Jarrod have both voted for the Friday invite, and much as I don't really trust any of Jarrod's advice about girls, I've never known Dustin to have an idea that was less than good.), and then went to a swim party with Greg. Brenden was there. It was so awesome. Nothing makes a day like giving Brenden a hug. And now I'm lying here in bed, IMing Jill (who's in my sister's room 20 feet away), and dreading how tired I'm going to be in less than 5 hours when I need to get up.

I swear I used to be good at this

So, it's after 11, and I should be asleep, because my nights have been inexplicably restless, but instead I'm starting a movie while I wait for Erik to arrive, an event that was supposed to happen over an hour ago.

But it's a movie I've already seen, so maybe I'll ramble here for a bit. Wait, no, I don't want to ramble any more. Everyone talks about rambling. And while rambling may in fact be correct terminology to describe the future of this work, I resist its application. Not too much. I have little desire to be noncompliant for the sake of noncompliance. Well, maybe sometimes. But it's very situational.

Where the hell is Erik?

Oh, this is bad. This is turning into one of those rambling (oh dammit) type blogs where the blogger has no regard for the audience and just writes because (s)he finds it ...... something. Cathartic? I think that's a word that's typically used. Though I wonder if the whole outpouring of emotions (which I think I've lost, incidentally. As in I consciously realize things are supposed to be happy or sad or awkward and then have to act as though I'm feeling like that. Well, no, I still get annoyed. Maybe that's somehow different.) actually makes people feel better or if they just think that they're supposed to feel better and so they do. Like what if blogging is kinda like a placebo? Placeboes don't have to be little white pills, right? I mean, the point of it is that your mind convinces you something or other and yeah.

I am going to be embarrassed to publish this. And I have no real excuse. I wish I was under some great mental strain to justify all this. (Oh, but Erik did show up and it was nice. We laughed at the Star Wars kid.) But no, all I have is no homework for medical school, which has been going for a week and a half but we still haven't had real classes yet.

I'm too lazy to bother titling this

So, I've been delinquent, in a way. A quote will do well to explain.

"There is, for better and worse, no typical day in my life as a writer. I seem to have two settings: off and on. When my switch is off, I can't seem to make myself do anything. I procrastinate horribly and stew for days or weeks in my own self-loathing. This would farily be called writer's block, I guess, although I always try to pretend it's extremely dire and original rather than an obvious and well-documented phenomenon.
When my switch magically turns on, I write and write. I stay up late into the night, night after night, and I feel very happy. I feel so happy I get smug; I wonder why it took me so long to get going.
Sometimes I wish I could work several hours a day, every day, like a normal professional person. Someday maybe I will. Who knows? ( I have always been an optimist.)"

And now, as you do as I have done before you, which is believe every one of Ann Brashares' wise words, I will explain myself as having my switch being still off. So really it's not my fault that I'm not writing. It's that I can't. I just can't. It's very dire. And original.

On the upside, there is nothing like school starting (Thursday) to give me things to talk about. 'Course, I could talk about how I read the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, but that's kinda girly and I'd rather brag about how I read For Whom the Bells Toll and how I liked it (wasn't that like a month and a half ago? Yes, but shhhhhh) or how I'm currently reading more Dostoevsky and aren't I just the biggest man of awesome ever for it. But really, the Dost is taking me forever, so today I read the Second Summer of the Sisterhood, and decided I was mostly Lena, with some Tibby. Plus a Y chromosome. Minus Greek heritage. Minus also a nosering. Well, minus and plus lots of things really. And why the hell am I writing all this?

So to all my friends, hello. I'm back. Back writing. At least I think I might be. Or maybe I should worry about having friends before I worry about being back in writing mode. Chances are I haven't talked to anyone reading this for months, save like 4 people. Or 5 maybe. Hi Doug. It feels like a long time since Kara's wedding, doesn't it? Hi Michael and Dustin and Lynsey. Thank you for all your blogs. Hi everyone else. Please forgive my inability to stay in touch. I love you all Marta.