Breakin' (and broke)

Break is a wonderful, lethargy-inducing thing. It was just during test week that I had so many intentions and ambitions in terms of books to read and people to contact and schemes to put into motion.

Break totals thus far:

Books read: 1/478th. This isn't 1 of 478 books. This is 2 pages of a 956-page book. Now my real literary achievement is the progress I've made (with Greg) in Bookworm Adventures. It really is like crack for linguists. I'm in withdrawals.

People seen: Craig. Notable omissions from this list: Jarrod. Peter. Doug. Jay. Laus. Oh wait, wait wait, this is trouble. I'm gonna forget people and they're gonna feel bad and then that's just another mess for me to ignore.

Schemes implemented: Zero. I need to be working on the ADRA Vietnam web page, and the newspaper that I keep threatening to start. Also I need to figure out what's going on next summer, in terms of me, and my involvement with things next summer. Yes, it is a selfish view of next summer, but it's mine and that's enough (and thank you Mr. Kierkegaard and Mr. Nietzsche for ratifying all this. Or so I've heard. I haven't actually read those guys. I'm pretending to be much better read than I actually am. I did the same thing all last week during exams, with the same limited success).

I haven't even watched It's a Wonderful Life. But before we go around calling me the G-word that rhymes with lynch, I am watching (albeit for the first time) Serendipity, which does seem to be showing some Christmas spirit here in the early going, so it's not a total loss just yet.

The other day, my aunt told my brother that she thinks I need a hobby. Or a girlfriend (though I think her words were "a female interest," which in my estimation, sounds quite a lot like a hobby). So I'm thinking stamp collecting.

Wow. I can't think of anything more boring than stamp collecting, except maybe looking at someone else's stamp collection.

Maybe I'll show that female interest my stamp collection.

Cold, hard facticity

It's test week again, which means I actually study hours upon hours. Here's a quick summary of events that took place between the end of my Anatomy exam yesterday and the start of my Cell Structure and Function exam today:
9:40ish - congradulated Paul on finishing his test first. He destroyed it. If it was a football game, he'd have been taking a knee from the start of the 3rd quarter.
10:00 - arrived home, started studying for Cell
10:15 - got hungry, ate some snacks, chatted online, checked MySpace
10:45 - started studying again
11:00 - got hungry, ate some snacks, read football game recaps
11:30 - got hungry, made some lunch, ate some lunch
12:00 - started studying again (amazingly, by this point I'd made it through 3 lectures that I hadn't ever reviewed)
12:15 - got tired, took a little nap
4:00 - got up, started studying
4:15 - got hungry, ate some snacks, watched some of that Al Gore movie
4:45 - started studying
5:45 - dinner
6:15 - rolled over to TBoul's house, started studying. This wasn't the most intense studying, but we got the material. We also went out for snacks.
12:15 - drove home, bed
6:15 - woke up, started studying, showered, studied some more, breakfast, drove to school, studied a little bit more (I got through all the lectures again this morning in about an hour and a half, something that took me about 8 hours to do yesterday. Hooray for last minute skimreviewing (or if you were British, you might call it skimrevising, but I never could bring myself to say that I was revising for a test because it sounds too much like you're changing the information. Plus it would sound bad to tell a teacher that you revise their notes a lot.)
8:30 - started testing the crap out of that test

Our brass quintet is going to play some Christmas thing at some castle in Riverside. I'm suprised. At a number of things. First off, who knew that Riverside not only has Christmas, but it has at least one castle too. Secondly, all of the members of our quintet are in med school with me, and we're in the middle of test week. Now, it is much in character for me to go and make some foolish mid-test-week commitment, but to ensnare others into these plans really shows a) cunning on my part, or b) cunning on Rob's part, because actually it was his idea and not mine.

I have a hit Italian song called "Ave Maria, mi corazon." Ryan, am I right?

I can't wait for The Office this week. A whole hour! What a fun sexy time for me. If Michael institutes Christmukkah and buys everyone sweaters and tries to that Mrs. Weasley made them and then dresses up with Dwight and Andy as the ghosts of Christmases past, present, and future and tries to turn caroling and gingerbread-house-making and nog-drinking into Winter Office Olympic sports, well, if that happens, I really can't predict what my behaviour will be like. I imagine it'd be nice if someone posts bail though.

Thoughts from a night where I quit a progressive party after one house

Whoever thought that caged rats should exercise by running around in that squeaky wheel thing needs to be stabbed with a protractor or compass (you know, the thing you always had to have for math class but never really got to use. the one that has one sharp metal point and another sharp pencil point) in multiple eyeballs.

It is difficult to tie your shoes while driving surface streets, especially when your car's a stick.

Even scarecrow (i.e. unmanned) cop cars do a good job at reminding people to obey what they think are laws.

There are certain people in this world whose souls I'm irreversibly drawn toward (I dunno, call them kindred spirits or something), and I positively love these people. We're not always good friends (though I tend to try and gravitate that way), and sometimes I just have no idea how to interact around these people so it ends up being awkward. It might sound a bit weird (or completely in(s)ane) but it is for these very people that I want the whole world of happiness. I mean, I want people in general to be happy and I will do my part to contribute to mankind and all that, but it is for these individuals that I would do anything and anything. I know there are only supposed to be four loves or something, but this doesn't quite fit any of the categories. Or maybe it's the storge or philia, but I don't need this feeling to want to become friends with someone, and this feeling is distinct from the way I care for the people around me. Although, the feeling does compel me to think of these kindred spirits as brothers and sisters. I've run the risk of saying too much already, but since I'm in trouble I might as well add that these people also tend to be younger than me (but it's not just a general tenderness for all children, because that feeling is much more sporadic. Little kids can be so annoying)

Good as it is to keep an overall perspective of life, I often run the danger of stepping too far back and being too far removed. It's just as disconnecting as it sounds.

The sun shines hot, the moon shines cold.

The worst part about prison is the dementors.

Game night

The following is allegedly taken from a conversation I had with my sister some minutes ago.

10:16:20 PM me@hotmail.com: ok, let's play a guessing game
10:16:27 PM me@hotmail.com: i'll go first
10:16:32 PM me@hotmail.com: i'm guessing you should be in bed
10:16:34 PM me@hotmail.com: ok, i'm right
10:16:38 PM me@hotmail.com: now it's your turn
10:16:42 PM me@hotmail.com: but i'll give you a hint
10:16:42 PM sister of me@hotmail.com: haha
10:16:53 PM me@hotmail.com: i'm either a) studying, or b) watching gilmore girls
10:17:03 PM sister of me@hotmail.com: i'm guessing that i need to do my homework if i want a good grade
10:17:07 PM sister of me@hotmail.com: ill go with B
10:17:08 PM sister of me@hotmail.com: :)
10:17:16 PM me@hotmail.com: wow, you're psychic or something
10:17:20 PM sister of me@hotmail.com: i know

Comprehensive review (something I need to learn to do before exams)

Thanksgiving is a wonderful thing, except that it completely obliterates any good habits I might have had (which are few and far between. Oh dammit, I hate using cliches. They're a dime a dozen. Now there's a phrase that has to be old. I mean, you can't even buy a dozen pennies for a dime these days). It's like I've completely forgotten how to sit down and study. Plus my appetite knows no restraint these days. I love pie. And the word "exercise" has a bit of an ethereal and philosophical feel to it.

The real bother with being back in Loma Linda is that people know me. Now, even apart from my unwarranted reputation this is problematic. See, aunties know they can get help with yard work. Classmates know they can get help with school stuff. Churches know they can get help with music, specifically brassy, trumpety music. That last item is particularly bothersome because I'm quite out of practice. Plus I'm about half as good as I was in high school, which wasn't all that special. I mean, I don't think I was outright terrible. I was probably in that nice middle area where no one would actually remember having heard me play. I'd bet that there's no one who went to high school with me (and who wasn't in band. and let's also discount any stalkers; they're not real people) that remembers me actually playing. I can hardly remember me actually playing. (Except for that one time I played the first movement of the Hummel for chapel, only I had to play it twice because we had split chapel for some reason. And even then I can't remember playing; I just remember being nervous as hell and it didn't help that the two girls I admired most (at the time, though I still think highly of them now, to be sure (and I say this because it's true, and because many of you may know very well who one of those girls is, and because I never know who reads these things (and I know one of those girls has a myspace account)) were in separate chapels but both sat close to the front).

Well that was unnecessarily long. Kinda fun to remember high school though. That's kind of what medical school feels like. Maybe it's just because the class size is smaller, which means you're limited in every class to sitting next to one or two of the same 120-170 (depending on how well the students tolerate the particular lecturer) people. And so, everyday, I sit in the back row and wonder if Kijak or Brian are going to show up for something besides religion and chapel (which are required), watch to see who tries to sit next to who, zone out during the lecture I might have to explain to Danelle and Sarah later, and wait for Tyler to entertain me. And since we're all in the same class, it's not like people in the school have different things to talk about, so we just sit around and agree how we hardly get anything out of Nava's lectures that we couldn't get from the powerpoints or how entertaining Dr. Wilcox is or how wonderful a lecturer Dr. Lewis is (Ndio!) or how we hope we don't have EBM or how nice it is not to have our cardiac ascultation test next Friday.

In some ways, it's a nice thing, because you have enough in common with everyone that it's not hard to make friends. Or at least it's not hard to find something to talk about. That being said, it's ridiculously hard to find something to talk about that's not school related, and therefore many conversations run a risk of being very boring right from the start, only since we are so consumed by this whole med school thing we don't realize how boring any given med school conversation might be, and so we have it anyway and feel quite good about it because it's at least pleasant company. And people generally are quite nice. Or at least smart. Or funny. Or full of him/herself, in which case I end up entertaining myself, usually at the other person's expense (but not to their knowledge, if I can avoid it).

Well, I'm kind of on a roll here, so I'll just go ahead and answer some general questions that people seem to ask me a lot. I will include my normal terse answers that tend to discourage further questioning, so that it actually feels like we're having a conversation here.

(Non med school people) Do you have to study a lot / (Med school people) Have you been studying much?
(Non med school people) Well, a lot by my standards. I study most every day, which is definitely new, but it's not more than 2 or 3 hours. / (Med school people) Some. But I'm so behind!

(Non med school people) How's [insert name of someone they know kinda casually] doing in school? / (Med school people, usually the ones from Andrews) How's your sister?
(Non med school people) Oh, (s)he's doing fine. Hangin' in there, ya know? / (Med school people) Busy, as always. Crazy girl. Oh, but if you see her, ask her about a birthday massage.

(Non med school people) So what are we doing this weekend? / (Med school people) So what are you doing this weekend?
(Non med school people) Church, mountains, football? And this time let's not forget to call Jay/Jonny. / (Med school people) Not much. Studying some.

(Non med school people) How are the lady-types? / (Med school people) How are the lady-types?
(All) [well I usually lie and say something like] Oh, I don't have time for that [but really, my attention just isn't particularly piqued. I suppose I'd be accepting applications. Can't promise to look at them, but I have lots of random stacks of paper in my room, so they'd fit right in and be thematic and all.]

Paranoia

I suspect people of plotting to make me happy.

Today in the World of Woochcraft

Top News Stories:

Studies show that study time is most effectively interrupted by phone calls, as a series of yappers puts an end to John's medical education (for the day). This happened around 10 a.m. (which, (co?)incidentally, is when football begins on Sunday mornings).

Hordes of Orcs fall to John's sharp blades and button mashing skillz. 1337 pwnage. t("t) noobs.

Prayers against Saints appear to work as John witnesses Steelers' victory on the Nielsen's new HDTV. (Or rather, I think it was a less than new TV but that it finally had the HD part of it working/connected.)

Foreign policy fails to negotiate a meeting with other local superpowers. However, verbal exchange remained positive, and it seems likely that the man-states will maintain a friendly relationship. (But not Borat-Azamat friendly. The damage done by that sequence (which was, of course, only for shock value, but still, yuck) was irreparably extensive. I have words to say about our Mr. Sacha Cohen, but this is program here is exclusively news-truth, not the unscientific, opinionated bigotry that you find in editorials)

Dessert platter at Jobe family's dinner for Uncle Chris's associates looks spectacular thanks to Christina and John's creativity and grape-arranging techniques. Actually the whole dinner turned out very well, but that was mostly Auntie Beez's fault. Fault may not seem like the right word, but it works in a way because my car is going to smell delicious because some of the food (that had been cooking in the oven in my house) spilled a bit during transport.

Sounds of a trumpet playing excerpts from famous John Williams themes could be heard throughout eastern Summit Ave. The source remains unknown. (I took my practicing back inside once I got most of the dogs barking.)

Crime and Punishment remains atop the book charts (though progress could be determined by a picometer)

Forecast: slightly moody with a chance of tirades in the early evening hours (which is when I expect the return of my parents and brother from the football tournament), but cooling down to subdued once the familial interrogation reaches its conclusion.

Thank you for tuning into this news bulletin. We now return you to your (ir)regularly scheduled lives.

Of unknown veracity, but sounds good so it's probably right

I'm often inclined to believe most sayings that are short and sweet. For example, the classic "When two are in agreement it must be true," statement has very little grounding in reality, but that doesn't mean I don't both use and accept it.

Sometimes I just come up with little rhyming things that aren't really true, but I still might believe them because they're just so concise and poignant. (In other words, yes, I should write slogans for brand name products. So move over Mr. "From Nabisco, Ding!" man.)

In any event (barring, of course, a call from a company that is willing to pay me inordinately large sums of money for devising kitschy catchy lines), here's a little quip from today.

"A shorn mane doesn't mean the lion's been tamed."

Again, this may or may not be true. I only thought it because I cut my hair and it feels like people are treating me different, though it's probably my imagination.

Speaking of which, did the White Witch and her demons they shave Alsan in Narnia book 1? I remember Mr. Beaver or Mr. Tumnus or someone making a point of how Aslan wasn't tame, or safe, or something to that effect.

And now, if I were completely egotistical, I'd try to solidify this whole John=lion=Aslan=Jesus thing in your malleable minds. But I'm lazy. I also like to think I'm not completely full of myself, but I'm more sure of the lazy thing.

Popularity contest

Happy Birthday Danielle. I know it's a day late now, but I'm OK with that, mostly because this isn't the first I've said Happy Birthday, but you know that.

(I think my sister has more "Happy Birthday" comments than I have total profile views. Maybe I need a sexier picture...or maybe it's sleep. Test week is so long.)

Celebrating victory in the middle of the battle (plus plotting my next revolution)

I'd like to consider myself 4-0 against the tests this week (at least based on pass vs. fail. Otherwise I might be 3-0-1, but ties count as passes so I'm 4-0). And that deserves some free time (apart from the nap I took this afternoon). Thus the myspace usage.

Test weeks are funny creatures (at least in my experience, which is only an opinion, but it's also true, so just believe it). Firstly (and this is really my only point, so don't be expecting a "Secondly"), they are very socially alienating. Most of my conversations start with "So, how're the exams treating you?" (the typical answer is "alright....") and they last, on average, less than 2 minutes and consist of test-related topics. Of course this is not surprising. It's the system. The education system says "We respect exam scores, and our respect is worth degrees and residency placements" and we, the students, who have bought into the educational system credos, say "Yes master. We will take your holy tests and determine our self-worth from the results."

If I seriously have to believe that to make it as a doctor, count me the hell out. It's not that I don't see the usefulness of tests, I just don't think their correlation coefficient with knowledge is very good (or at least I don't believe it's within any sort of 95% confidence interval. yeah, take that you stupid statistic loving system. i'm saying you don't measure up by your own yardsticks).

Look it's not that I think academia is a bad thing. But we get mad when our church or state leaders break church or state laws (i.e. act hypocritically). Shouldn't we hold the institutions of knowledge to the same standards? And at least religion and governments have some leniency for acting in the spirit of the law, if not the letter of the law; that is to say, intent is worth something. But education seems much more eager to hand out failing scores.

That being said, there are damn good teachers out there who understand that the point of instruction is learning, and that a test isn't always an accurate reflection of the learning that has gone on. Furthermore, I think (or at least hope) there is some part of academia that is trying to resolve the whole testing to learning issue. Or maybe tests are something akin to affirmative action; it's not a good system but it's the best we've got. Or maybe I just don't like playing by other people's rules (which, curiously, is exactly what sports and video games are, so I guess it's not that).

Or maybe I'm just making this all up/blowing it out of proportion. It's hard to say.

Oh, and Secondly, test week is driving me insane. Or maybe it's the headache that's doing that.

The stall warning is sounding (recovery not anticipated)

Best I can tell, every non-productive Sunday begins much the way things are starting out now. I wake up around 8 (stupid sun and its rousing rays), see what the Pirates/Penguins did last night (win!), see who the Steelers play today (Falcons and Vick), and then play piano/video games or read a book (today it's Ender's Game) or lie in bed (and blog and watch The Office or Arrested Development (hooray today!)) until football games start. I take with myself my study materials, which sit with me and watch the day's football games (and then the World Series). They're not very great company. They just sit there, open and inattentive. And if I know anything about interpersonal relationships {he doesn't}, I know that you have to be both open and attentive. Because that's what respek is. In many ways, I wish the knowledge and I were one, you know, that we could understand each other, so that we could enjoy the game together. (That's pretty much code for "I wish I didn't have to study and that I already knew the information so I could watch the games without feeling guilty.")
(and while I'm wishing, I'd really like a pony) (not really) (I'd much rather have a monkey) (and a berry pie) (well, a few berry pies)

My mom just told me about an article in the newspaper that talked about some lady and her amazing collection of Black History stuff. (I too was wondering what such an article was doing in the paper..I mean, it's not February or anything..but it turns out the lady just died and it makes sense not to try to wait a few months to remember a dead person when you can just get it out of the way nice and early. Her collection was quite impressive. It's supposedly the second most important one (Smithsonian might be the first. Or maybe Muhammad Ali's trophy case), but I guess it's very disorganized. She was something of an eccentric, but I think collectors of anything usually are. Also, their homes usually stink.)

Well, football's about to start, and I need to start some laundry so I can wear clean under....socks. And shirts. This week. To wear. I don't wanna get stuck without white socks and have to wear my weird green church socks (that don't match any of my church shoes) with tennies. Girls pick up on that sort of thing. They also pick up on teasing you if you tell them that you blow dried your hair once last week. It was only once though. I only blue myself once. (I know, I should really buy myself a tape recorder and record myself for a whole day.)

And thus, another day with many potential study hours becomes part of a ritual, habitual lazyfest. And to think people go to church on this day.

...and the inevitable crash

In fact, I have accomplished nothing thus far today. But I did manage to finish the book. So I'll leave you all with what it left me. I can't say that this is the book's main point, but it was my main point.

"Nobody controls his own life, Ender. The best you can do is choose to fill the roles given you by good people, by people who love you."

Kawaii~desu~ne?! ^_^

i got a new phone. i don't particularly like phones, but this one is quite a lot of fun to play with. it's a wonderful in-class/in-chapel/in-between-innings/at-a-red-light/some-weird-person-is-talking-to-me-and-droning-on-forever/my-family-is-talking-to-me-and-droning-on-forever distraction.

it's all fun and games until someone gets feelings, because feelings are messy

I wish...

something. I think.

I don't really know. Danelle asked Sarah today what she'd be doing right now if it could be anything. She answered, and so far as I could tell she was telling the truth. But that's not the point, or not my point (at this point).

So being the alleged egomaniac that I am (OK, I actually am, and it's not even close), I directed this question selfwards. Here's what I discovered: I really don't see myself wanting to be anywhere else. Sure, I'm enjoying school, but it's not like I'm enjoying school that much. How is it possible that I can't think of another place, or another time, or another anything that I'd rather be in? Am I that unimaginative? Or maybe this is just the way I get when all is well. And all is well. My life is organized and balanced. I'm eating well, sleeping fine, exercising regularly, studying consistently (relatively speaking, of course), spending time with friends, and I've still had time to practice music and read books. And there's no drama. Or promiscuity. (Basically, my life in no way resembles any of NBC's shows I refuse to watch. Actually, it's not much like any TV I can think of).

So........

I'm a bit unsure as to what to do with a lull like this. I'm not used to having all the pieces fall into place for much longer than a day, say nothing of a couple weeks. And the horizon looks equally uneventful. What is one to do with such smooth waters? Push the sky, I guess. Some Squall is bound to arise eventually.

Goals for the near future:
Get our brass quintet going
Pass classes (well, that probably should have been first)
Read Atlas Shrugged
Find out about starting a school paper

This is what happens when I get frustrated

I hate CS&F (cell structure and function). And damn all you biologists for learning so much about it. Personally, I'd be happy in thinking that my body is made up of millions of little magical faeries who make me tired at night and hungry during class (they also make me tired during class. How do they know?). But no, I'm supposed to believe in fluid mosaic cell membranes and integrins and hyaluronic acids (which, D. and S., I still don't understand) and nerves bundles. Well biologists, stick it in your occluding junctions. Your science sucks.

OK, that wasn't very nice. Especially since I'll be saying pretty much the same thing about biochemists and their biochemistry tomorrow night, just as last night I was anti-anatomists and embryologists. But for me, strong feelings of dislike are generally transient, so this is all very much in character.

We know these things (amongst these, that I thieve phrases from people I hang out with)

I am a moron. A huge moron. Text-book moron. Poster-boy moron. But we know these things.

For those of you who have not spent the last few hours with me (which actually is everyone, because I've been alone, or alone enough that no one but myself would have been able to put together this progression), I have been wasting time, which is exactly what I told myself I wasn't going to do. Tonight I was going to study, because most of my nights studying are really not the most productive. If I had to estimate (which I hate to do, because there are those who might be reading this that would resent any statistics I am presently trying to invent), I'd say we go at about 25% capacity. Granted, the other two-thirds goes into having fun (ok, the math's a little off, but there has to be some room for error and/or being shushed), but still I feel a bit behind in my schoolwork, which is why I had so intended to get some quality work in this evening.

But no. Nope. Things (that is to say, time) just kinda got out of hand. 4 o'clock gave way to 5 at the piano bench, to 6 at the kitchen table, to 7 and 8 and 9 at the computer watching baseball (and perhaps Everwood, which was also a terrible idea because I don't need stupid TV trying to impress upon me feelings I don't, nor want, to have). And so here I am, trying to figure out why I'm not yet rationalizing all this.

I'd like to blame 9/11. I really would. I'm appalled at how desensitized I've become to the whole event. I read in a book once about a boy who, upon learning of the destructive force of the atomic bomb, walked to the nearest window and vomited (or at least that's how I remember the story). That's how I want to feel. I don't want 9/11 just to turn into the reason I can't take toothpaste in my carry-on. Or the reason to hunt out religious radicals. Fine, there might be some smaller lessons to take away, but I'm sick of people trying to find significance in meaningless things. There is nothing special about how many steps it takes from my car to the front door of my house, and there is nothing sacred about the central-most verse in the Bible (but sure, it makes for a decent Sabbath School lesson, because people like symmetry stuff like that, myself included). Ok, that's not exactly what I'm going for. What I'm trying to say is that........, well wait, no. Figure it out for yourself. Because chances are, you already know it. So think about it, and decide whether or not you agree with me.

I find myself (some 5 or 6 steps later, and likely in a totally different direction than anyone else is like to take) ending up back at the Salinger quote I once talked about Friday, March 31, 2006 (I tried linking this before but it didn't work, and so I don't promise that it does now either).

I wonder if insomnia is actually the technical name

As far as sleepless nights go, I've definitely had worse. In fact, I think I've rarely, if ever had better. The crickets and freeway are providing some nice background noise, the moon is full and bright and there are enough clouds in the sky to really keep the earth lit, and I have a full glass of ice water and a half full box of goldfish crackers (yes, that's right, the glass if completely full and the goldfish box is half full, though both could very well end up empty before I even begin considering putting them down. I wonder if there's ice cream. I'm gonna be so fat. I'll be the fattest skinny person ever. I bet one day some dimension traveler is gonna come pay me a visit and say, "you know, some tear in the time-space continuum has allowed all your fat to be transported into a different dimension, and it's all ended up in my linen closet, and so now I'm here to return it," and then he'll hand me a 200 pound plastic bag. Yeah, that makes sense. Well what can I say. Good nights are full of bad ideas.).

I haven't studied yet today. Maybe I should do some of that now. Life just got in the way of studies, and so I didn't study. There's no way I'm gonna study now. I'm too tired to learn anything. Unfortunately this level of fatigue somehow doesn't translate into golden slumbers, except that it just kinda did since now I'm searching my iTunes library for the Abbey Road album.

Sleep pretty darling do not cry...

I learned something fascinating about girl today. I don't actually know if it's true, but it sounds true. Apparently, girls don't have to be sad to cry. They can cry when they're angry or confused or happy, and not just sad or disappointed. I can't exactly explain this phenomenon. I suppose I should liken it to the way the body produces an inflammatory response to a general insult, only for girls it's the way they cry whenever... (and here's where I'm having difficulty still, but I believe it has something to do with emotions.)

I wish I had more to write about, but I just got tired, and I'm gonna try to go with this feeling.

Epic: a definition

For those of you unfamiliar with the affections these two individuals have for each other, my apologies. I do not know or remember all of the stories behind this relationship, nor will I even attempt to recreate any, memory being fallacious as it is. So this is for those who already know what there is to know.

Tomorrow morning, at about 5 a.m., I am taking Tyler to the airport (Ontario). Jonny has decided to come along for the ride.

I just have a feeling that this is going to be some sort of fun, and I'm hoping it's epic fun. If there's a story that comes out of this, I'll be sure to think about relating it here.

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.