you know the drill

or rather, i know the drill.

6th week = tests = restlessness = blog time = make some stuff up

so it's not really like i have a choice in the matter.

actually, that's one of my favorite excuses. the whole "it wasn't my decision" route. the "sorry, company policy" or "it's just my nature" or "i don't make the rules, i just play by them."

it does a remarkable job of externalizing any potential blame. and sometimes rightly so. the penguins lost to the rangers yesterday. there's really nothing i could have done about that. at least, not easily.

i have tests tomorrow. there's nothing i can do about those either. seriously. no let me talk this one out.

i have tests, but it's in my nature to prepare moderately well for them. in the time i have left. it's not in my nature to study for such things ahead of time. just like it's not in my nature to do something poorly, or let something turn out badly. (these qualities run in very stark opposition to my procrastination virtues, but really, that's just the way of things, and there's not much i can do about it.)

i'm kind of a good model for consistency. wait. no i'm not. and i'm probably not a very good judge, what with all the bias and all.

i like to think i could be a good model for consistency. but then, i like to think i could be a good model for a great many things. let's list them:

integrity
loyalty
brilliance
bravado
humility
intonation
optimism
nutrition
freestyle
saying the right thing
malice
indecision
detachment
springboard diving
cologne

this list extends rather indefinitely. the pattern is (and would continue to be) pretty predictable. i start with the obviously ridiculous ideas, lean somewhat toward ones that could be believable (if only to make the initial ones feel like they were somewhat true), poke some fun at my supposed lesser qualities, and wrap it all up with a joke. i also make sure that it's internally unsound. as i told a friend today, i see honesty more as a last resort than a primary policy.

well, it's 1, and tests start early. also, i wake up even earlier to review. i hate having to sleep. it'd be nicer if it was more optional. like salt.

and i quit writing when my analogies fall apart like origami paper cranes.

paper cranes make me sad. it makes me think of a book i read about a japanese girl, named sadako, and world war two. and then i think of grave of the fireflies. (oh yeah, sorry jill, i watched it. so don't feel constrained. or if you want to wait and watch it with me sometime(?) that works. kinda. i cried when i saw it. i imagine i'd probably once more do so, were i to see it again.) that movie is really damn depressing.

life's list of NO

things you should never do: (or at least don't admit to it, even during truth-telling games)

unless you're from new york, or have an uncle who was paul o'niell, you can't root for the yankees. unless you went to usc, you can't root for the trojans. obviously, yankees fans can cheer the trojans, and trojans fans can cheer the yankees, because they're all on the same side anyway—Satan's.

as far as superhumanly possible, never let one 18-wheeler pass another 18-wheeler on a two lane road.

never let a friend refer to himself adding an adjective in front of his name. exceptions: big (as in big tony) or little (as in little john). descriptive titles (such as darth) also are allowed.

never pay for an autograph. i mean, i can think of things that are more retarded, but not many.

if you're a guy and more than 51% hetero, never talk to another guy about the physical characteristics of his penis. unless you're a professional (i.e. urologist and/or big tony). also, when choosing a name for your peep, dont just call it little steve or patrick junior. be creative. pick heroes and gods and stuff. if your name's troy, call it hector (unless you have a friend who's achilles). if you're an alibino, moby. chuck norris would work, but there can be only one chuck norris, and you wouldn't want the real chuck norris going around and exposing all the posers.
also, while i'm on the inappropriate topic, i think it would be a good joke to put a nickle in someone else's wallet so it creates a really small condom outline. put silver dollars in your own wallet if it makes you feel better.

as a general rule, don't tell someone he or she looks like an animal. i'm sure there are some exceptions. let me provide you with a list of never-can-be-an-exception: anteater, water buffalo, hyena, gremlin, blowfish, taun taun, anaconda, blastoise, Rob Schneider, behemoth

never trust a guy who is named mitchell and insists on going by mitchell and not mitch. if he really really insists on mitchell, call him mitch anyway so you can still trust him.

never go for the smaller sized ice cream when the larger size costs only 50 cents more. even if you know you aren't going to be able to finish it or find a homeless person to give it to.

never try to fit in at a walmart. or a starbucks. ever.

don't ask stupid questions about movies. don't rent "the ring" and ask someone which one was frodo. don't rent "return of the king" and ask people if they think gandalf went to hogwarts. don't rent "chamber of secrets" and ask if aragog and shelob and charlotte (wilbur's friend) are related.

don't intentionally kill a mosquito bomber.

pis aller

correlation may as well be causation. no media i know bothers to separate the two.

time for the old "peace vs. truth" debate. no no, this isn't luther and erasmus (i mean, it is, but not tonight). tonight it's "heroes" and biochemistry.

in no way do i expect to do well on my biochemistry exam tomorrow. i imagine i'll pass (but i always imagine i'll pass a test. i have a terrific imagination. which is why i prefer people not to wear clothes that "leave nothing to the imagination" because then there's a whole lot of talent going to waste.) but traditionally, i do most of my best learning the night before a test. so really, this is my best chance to learn a whole lot of biochem. so, advantage productivity.

there's no good reason to watch heroes tonight. tomorrow night would be just as good. better even, because i'll have really nothing to do. well, i sorta told my dad otherwise. he asked what i planned to do to celebrate being done with tests. i replied "copious amounts of alcohol." he laughed. it'd be a lot funnier if i actually drank and he didn't know about it. otherwise it's just me being a smartass.

speaking of which....



i've probably watched this 15 times. diminishing returns hasn't set in yet.

well, it's all been settled. heroes it is. hiro desu. thanks for all your love and support.

what? that wasn't the logical conclusion? look, i'm no logician. (wait, that's a real word.) look, i'm no statistician. (wait, still too close.) look, i'm no ration. (like a biscuit? gravy?) look, i'm no aberration. (hmm, don't want that being debated.) look, i'm no abortionist (well, i aborted the study idea). whateva. whateva. i do what i want. i kick puppy dogs with steel-toed boots.

iMuse (not like I, Robot, because muses were goddesses. i'm more the male counterpart.)

i started this thursday before the cell mock board, got tired of it, meant to finish it yesterday but i fell asleep at 6:30, woke up at 2:30 this morning (that's a solid 8 hours sleep), got tired of it again, so maybe i can finish now. it's a little dated in parts (unlike yours truly) because of when it was begun.

"tests are, well, not quite close to done, but fast approaching that point. i can tell by the fact that bawling fits have turned into balling fists, which i think is a sign of anxiety. (i really don't think i'm going to go an punch someone out. except maybe in a hecka old mike tyson video game.)

speaking of video games (super-successful-segue five *snap*), i really was going to study [last] saturday night, but then we went to jay's and it was awesome.

sunday was quite possibly my worst mother's day performance in quite some time/years. i think i should throw my mom a surprise mother's day sometime in the near future.

holidays with expectations are overrated, except fourth of july. or maybe i just don't like obligations that i didn't sign up for. actually, i'm very certain that is the case."

and now we're all caught up. it's saturday morning. jarrod gets home tonight. the marine layer has taken the sky. my windows are closed but the blinds are up so it's bright and i can see the birds but the chirping is muted. and now i hear the freeway. it's a beautiful world, even when it isn't. or maybe. the world is not beautiful, therefore it is. something like that, eh? shut up canada. you're not prettier, just northier. was perelandra pretty? did i even read that book? sometimes a book sits on my shelf for so long that i think i've read it. (sometimes a person has been in my class for so long that i think i've talked to him or her.) but no, it's just a matter of recognition, and i have very little idea as to what's on the inside, apart from what i've heard.

rumors have it garage voice will be here this coming week. i'm super excited.



i'm also excited for tests to be over. that way we can all go back to being friends, and not "people we used to know and like and talk to before the testing tyrannies ruled my life."

March 12

Last year I tasted sweetness. This year I ate a sandwich. Both may cost me friendships. But at least I know what the problem is now. Actually, I knew before, but finally it makes sense. It's too bad I'll have to keep it to myself. Or maybe I won't. It's hard to decide.

for lindsay and lindsey and dustin and michael and bruce and brian and others, i suppose

ok, it's not really for you. i mean, sure it is. but mostly it's a thank you for when you write. even if it's from china, brian. i did most of my best write thinking when i was abroad. or working for the newspaper. yeah, cos thinking back, a bit of my abroad writing was to jill. hi jill. i miss writing to you.

this is going to turn into an open letter to everyone, i'm thinking.

how to study during test week:
- make sure you haven't learned much all quarter (no thanks to me not making time to study with you, sarah and danelle. sorry. things were not good. we can talk about it later, if you really want to know, and i kinda hope you dont.)
- read through all the notes the day before. haphazardly. with frequent naps and drink breaks.
- wake up the morning of and read through all the notes again. hooray short term memory.
- race through the test as fast as you can so you have maximal time to study for the test tomorrow. or, as was the case this morning, so you can take an extra long nap before you go see spiderman this afternoon. thanks for coming, ryan and ginger and john. sorry i got all mixed up and sat on the wrong side of the theater. hope you wrote that paper, stina. duv, did you do any homework tonight? did you even eat dinner? those cookies dont count as a meal. mom's not home, so yes, i do get to say that.

we should play hockey this weekend. or rail baron again. eric and craig, i think you're the ones who need to be paying attention to this. (oh also, we're gathing a posse to go get jarrod on may 19. he gets back then.)

i watched the office just now. maybe i'll wait a week and then talk about it, just so you can see it if you haven't already. this means you danielle and erik. (oh, erik, you also belong in the above paragraph. or are you going to greg's faculty lunch thing saturday? also, have i told you my plan for your bachelor party? we're going to a bookstore for the 7th harry potter book release. i'm very excited)

hi doug. hi peter. if i was to fly up for graduation, can you pick me up in portland or seattle or something? i know, that's worse than asking for a ride to LAX.

hi kat and albert. hang in there. boards will be done soon and then you're practically doctors. i mean, i'd let you give me a breast exam. and if you wanted to palpate mediastinal lymph nodes, well hey, just go for it. it doesn't make sense to me, but what do i know. maybe your skinny fingers can fit through my intercostal muscles. there's only one way to find out.

hi alex rodriguez. will you please start hitting again? my fantasy team needs it. remember, there's no "i" in fantasy team. (on an unrelated note, there is "fantasy meat" in "fantasy team." if you cared. i sure dont)

hi bill watterson. i think you're still alive. please create some more calvin and hobbes for me. besides providing me hours of entertainment, they are great gifts for surprise 3/4 birthdays.

dear dr. werner,
i have objective tinnitus, because all those facts i learned for today have become dislodged and are rattling around in my head and it's annoying as hell. no. annoying as billowing clouds of gnats. (which i think is associated with infectious endocarditis (do we know what it does in the heart, like murmur-wise? because i know what it does everywhere else) and sarcoidosis (and i hope i get some of that sweet band keratopathy))

i sure use parentheses a lot. i should buy them in bulk.

dear alter egos,
how many of you are there?

jarrod,
summer check list (and we have to do 5 or more of the following): hollywood bowl, daisuke, some soccer game (chelsea or whatever), risk 2210, some rpg (mmo counts). am i missing anything?

dear strongbad,
what's the best way to make your associates (and/or dissociates) throw you a surprise 3/4 birthday party?
jw
redlands (as in the color of the dirt here), california
or you can pretend i'm "junior asparagus" from "veggie tales" but actually dont because i dont want any vegetables at my party. it's too much of a moral grey zone. (which is silly, because i've been a part of active youthinasia for a couple years)

room art conceptions

The walls are still white. This is just a beginning. I'm not completely set on these. Actually, I'm completely set on some of these. Actually, I did this once before, but it didn't save. So this isn't as complete as the first try. But on to the material:

Be the change you want to see in the world.
Mahatma Ghandi

Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.
Marcus Aurelius

For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required.
Luke 12:48.

Don't panic.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

We assert then that nothing has been accomplished without interest on the part of the actors; and — if interest be called passion, inasmuch as the whole individuality, to the neglect of all other actual or possible interests and claims, is devoted to an object with every fibre of volition, concentrating all its desires and powers upon it — we may affirm absolutely that nothing great in the World has been accomplished without passion.
Hegel

Being able to remain on that dizzying crest: that is integrity and the rest is subterfuge. Albert Camus

...there's no difference at all, that I can see, between the man who's greedy for material treasure- or even intellectual treasure- and the man who's greedy for spiritual treasure.
Franny and Zooey

If you're going to say the Jesus Prayer, at least say it to Jesus, and not to St. Francis and Seymour and Heidi's grandfather all wrapped up in one. Keep him in mind if you say it, and him only, and him as he was and not as you'd like him to have been.
Franny and Zooey

Do you know what I was smiling at? You wrote down that you were a writer by profession. It sounded to me like the loveliest euphemism I had ever heard. When was writing ever your profession? It's never been anything but your religion. Never. I'm a little over-excited now. Since it is your religion, do you know what you will be asked when you die? But let me tell you first what you won't be asked. You won't be asked if you were working on a wonderful moving piece of writing when you died. You won't be asked if it was long or short, sad or funny, published or unpublished. You won't be asked if you were in good or bad form while you were working on it. You won't even be asked if it was the one piece of writing you would have been working oil if you had known your time would be up when it was finished-I think only poor Soren K. will get asked that. I'm so sure you'll get asked only two questions.' Were most of your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out? If only you knew how easy it would be for you to say yes to both questions. If only you'd remember before ever you sit down to write that you've been a reader long before you were ever a writer. You simply fix that fact in your mind, then sit very still and ask yourself, as a reader, what piece of writing in all the world Buddy Glass would most want to read if he had his heart's choice. The next step is terrible, but so simple I can hardly believe it as I write it. You just sit down shamelessly and write the thing yourself. I won't even underline that. It's too important to be underlined.
Seymour: an Introduction

You are what you continually choose to be.
(unknown? help me on this one)

Beyond mountains there are mountains.
Haitian proverb

motivation

sometimes (but not often), i settle myself down—sitting, slouching, leaning, lying (not the dishonest one)—and think about why i do things. anything. usually these thoughts are trivial and borderline retarded. why do i drive a car and not ride a bike to school? (i'd have to wake up way early) why do i go to university church? (habit) why do i prefer ice cream in cones? (they're delicious) why do i procrastinate? (.......because i can?) why do i spend 2 hours writing a blog?


(
why i write
usually i take solace in being misunderstood. (yes, that sounds like the defense mechanism of nerds and emos everywhere.) i'm rather content in having people believe stuff about me that isn't true, and if others are to err, i would have them do it on the poor side. that is, i don't mind people believing worse of me than what i consider to be true. see, my actions and words don't always convey the intended meaning. also, sometimes i say things that aren't true, and don't reflect what i believe, and then i forget to publicly reverse my decisions on those topics. (i guess some of this is quite purposeful.) so i know that i'm not always represented accurately. knowing that i'm not going to be seen the way i see myself, i'd much rather have people think the worse of me. i dont know why. probably because then it's easier to deal with the expectations. i really hate to disappoint.
writing is different. in writing i feel like i can explain myself better, maybe even fully. i can choose my words deliberately and craft my sentences carefully and, usually, say exactly what i want to say in the way i want to say it. i have power here.

with great power comes great responsibility. this is my gift, my curse.

good saying, peter parker. i hold it true. in my writings, i find it my responsibility to be more honest, and open, and unguarded. i'm not very comfortable with it. but it is easier than saying these things aloud in front of others. i am a bit detached from my words. i'm not physically present when you, my reader, are reading them. and that's comforting to me, probably because i don't really have to explain what i say.

i write because it's a chance to be honest. to say exactly what i want to say. i'm really good about not talking about things. i can ignore a roomful of elephants. but in my writing i'm more likely to take these things on. case in point (and i'm going to regret this, but it was a couple months ago, so it's more of a historical document by this point, which means it maybe shouldn't be so closely associated with me): if you go back to my "wish list" blog, you'll find a whole nother (yes, nother is a word today) list hidden in pale blue font below the first list. maybe some of you saw it. if you didn't, you'll have to copy and paste it somewhere, because simply highlighting over it doesn't make it any more readable.

i write because it's a chance to be understood. a lot of the time i can't bring myself to say explicitly what i want to say, but i'll write things in such a way that they do carry hidden agendas if one takes the time to find them. well, there aren't really hidden agendas. basically, you'd have to be somewhat intimately knowledgable of the situation in the first place for the riddles to have a chance at making sense. but the possibility that someone could figure out something, well, it's nice. it's rather like how i tend to use analogies and double meanings. i know, that makes it hard on people. it feels like i'm playing games. and maybe i am. but sometimes, it's the only way. the alternative would be to bottle and shelve those things. which happens regularly too.

i write because it's a chance to make things real. sharing my thoughts and feelings in this manner seems to legitimize them. it gives people the opportunity to acknowledge them. and usually, that's enough.

i write because it's a chance to be useful. sometimes i feel like i'm very different from everyone else, but usually it just takes a good passage of literature to remind myself that many others are like me. and maybe, just maybe, my writing can be of similar use. it's a lot to hope for. in fact, it's not really a hope. i hope no one needs this. i hope people feel connected anyway. but if there was something in my words that is or was or could be of value to someone, i would hope they find it, either here or elsewhere. it makes no real difference to me.

i write because it's a chance to tell you i love you. is that weird? i probably won't ever say those words to you otherwise. i'll do my damn best to show it in other ways, but i'm not very good at it. i hope it's not weird. i mean, i'm not going to apologize for these feelings. i can't. i believe in them more than just about anything. it's the basis of my religion. at least, this is the way i interpret jesus' ministry. and i want to be like jesus. i want to love you the way jesus loves you.

)

plans (actually, i should have called it plan, but hindsight is 20/20, which is average)

as a general rule, my ideas are hit and miss, without the misses. if there was a missus, they'd probably be all miss. but, there's really no way of knowing.

amongst my grandiose plans are the following:

paint my room with my favorite quotes a la Franny and Zooey but not just on door frames or bedposts or whatever, but on walls with ink (and probably whiteout, or offwhite-out, if there is such a thing)



and that's actually as far as i'm going to get, because right now i'm searching out all the books that i know have quotes i like and i'm going to begin my compilation process, because sometimes you just need to start things. or at least, sometimes you just feel compelled to do so. and this is one of those times. today i am a man of action.

maybe i'll post the things i put together. that'll be easier than giving bedroom tours.

dinkin flicka

test week = blog post. this is a long established fact.

ugggh. i was doing so well. i was chillin and studying and burninating the countryside and then now, tonight, for some reason, i just can't study. my notes are there, all strewn about in classic study fashion, but they just can't hold my attention. and it's starting to peeve me. (i wanted to say "irk" instead of "peeve," but danelle uses that word a lot, and if i'm gonna copy someone, i'd rather it be more obvious. we the people. call me ishmael. death be not . four score and seven . from every mountainside let freedom . two households both alike in . it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a . no man is an . i dont even have to finish those quotes and you know where i'm going with them. ok. bonus round. Dunder-Mifflin this is . don't worry, you can google any of those lines and figure out what it was i was going for. or you could just have a brain in the first place. {oh, harsh}. the power is . oh, that one didn't work. i guess captain planet isn't googled enough.)

OK, a few Michael Scott quotes. They're just too good. Why yes, this is what I do when I'm bored or when I should be busy with other things. Why do you ask?

I hate so much about the things that you choose to be
And then … and then suddenly she's not yo' ho no mo'.
Happy birthday Jesus, sorry your party's so lame.
YYyyyankeee swap.
The rules of shotgun are very simple and very clear: the first person to shout shotgun when you're within the sight of the car gets the front seat. That's how the game's played. There are no exceptions for someone with a concussion.
Pshh. BFD. Engaged ain't married.

OK, I know that barely scratches the surface, so go ahead and post all the other good ones I missed if it's bothering you that your favorite one isn't up there.


test weeks rarely stress me out. actually, few things really stress me out. i like to think this is mostly by choice, and that when something's getting to me i just remind myself that in the grandmaster (as in chess) scheme of things it's either not that important or that i can learn to deal with it. the other option is that i dont care. this might often be the case. hakuna matata. (when in doubt, resort to disney songs. you can't argue with disney songs.)

ok, study time. this is probably the 57th time i've told myself that today.

all your virus are belong to me

the joys of being sick:
there are none

unless you are a masochist. but that's just weird.

there are, however, potential joys in pretending to be sick. in the hopes that I will feign illness in the future, here are some symptoms that I should probably claim, because they are real.

it didn't start so bad. i just wasn't feeling so hot friday morning. i sat through lectures (though i have no idea what was said, and had to leave in the middle of pdx to go vomit. i was glad i had gum in my backpack). i went to lab (in the physical sense). went to vespers. played settlers far too late into the night.

and the rest of the weekend kinda blurs. the presence or absense of the sun had little effect on my sleep pattern, which was mostly determined by the diarrhea.

***spoiler alert***
for those of you who haven't had the dehydrating, kills-orphans-in-africa diarrhea (ORT really is lifesaving. and, fun fact, it has to do with our sodium-glucose cotransporters), it's no fun. you might have been able to guess that, but really, it's way worse than the slightly mushy stool that most people call diarrhea (just because they have to wipe more than twice).

today started a bit better. gas was gas, and not wet poo. the poo hadn't firmed up, but at least it impeded less on my non-schedule. i regained my appetite (i had gone some time, thursday night to saturday night, without eating much more than some popcorn and a bit of soup. oh and less than a half grapefruit, but i lost, best i can tell, all of that in pdx). i can almost stand to concentrate. i've gotten through half a lecture. which pretty much means that i'll be right as rain by the time 24 is on. well, maybe not rain. rain's pretty right. but railroad. i'll be right as railroad. the CRI+P. with a superchief.

on the plus side. wait, not my plus side. but it could be someone's plus side. anyway, it's a fast way to lose 5 pounds. it's also a fast way to get to feeling like your entire musculature vanished.

wow, it sounds pretty bad when i put those two statements right next to each other, for now 5 pounds = john's total muscle mass. i should have talked about other ways to quickly lose 5 pounds before jumping into the whole how-weak-i-feel aspect of the sickness. oh well, live and learn. but i am curious to see what i come up with for those "other ways" ideas.

how to quickly lose 5 pounds:
shark bite
hair cut
bowel resection
leeching
duct tape mouth
chemotherapy
enema
nature hike
sulfuric acid (you've seen those diagrams. it burns right through your hand!)
guillotine
snack in London (shopkeep may ask you for 5 quid, but it's the same thing)

it's not my Cause, but some people seem to really care about it

Today is, apparently, Blog for Choice day. I'm not really pro-choice. I'm pro-responsibility, and pro-consequences, and pro-making-things-work. Peyton Manning is probably those things, plus Pro Bowl.

I have no problem with OCPs or condoms. I have no problem with the fact that a good number of fertilized eggs don't implant in the endometrium and are therefore discharged at menses (i think this is the irregular plural of mensa). I have no problem with reality that a fetus doesn't survive well outside the uterus until it's lungs are well enough developed (at about 24 weeks, if I remember correctly, though legal viability is 20 weeks). And I have no problem with children not being able to do well without his or her parents for many years, sometimes even into his or her early 40s. Consequently, I don't see a clear line that demarcates the beginning of life. Any time point we could assign would end up being as arbitrary as calling an 18-year-old an adult.

When I think back to when I was a small mass of gastrulating cells, I distinctly remember hoping that I wouldn't be aborted. True story. Which is why my concern is mostly for the mothers (though, while I think it's the mother's decision legally, there are other parties—the dude/douche, the family, the doctor—who should get some voice. Gender-equality Donne would state that neither a man nor a woman is an island). I can't imagine that terminating a life that you are responsible is an easy decision to make or to live with, regardless of how disruptive it would be to the life of the potential mother. To me, it seems like it would be unbearable either way (no pun intended, because it's not a very funny one.) But I have no experience with this sort of situation, so will talk on it no further.

I think that it's useful to keep life as sacred, above (almost?) all things. Without that sanctity, you (and Mao and Mr. Massacre) can rationalize much (and I'm not saying this is bad, but if you do this, Jack Bauer will seek you out and dead you. Oh, Peter, here's another: If Jack Bauer's gun jams, it's because he wants to beat you with it). Logically, if one holds Truth as more important than life, one can justify killing those who oppose one's Truth or hinder one's transmission of it. It's one thing to die for your beliefs (I personally find it a bit retarded if it can be avoided. Dying is actually a rather easy way out. It's much easier to die for something than it is to really, truly live for something), but to kill for them is pragmatic at best (and I'm not really much a fan of Machiavelli.)

Fact of the matter is, even if abortion were illegal, they'd still happen, and probably in less sterile environments. And far as I can tell, pro-life means being super awesome at life, and infected vaginas have no place there.

tricksy

it's starting already. after medical school's initial inundating wave, the Waters of time are starting to draw back into the deep eternity. it's time to repair my sand castle.

everytime the keep is overwhelmed, i get a good chance to step back and see what all those spires and battlements were trying to protect. i don't open the treasury every day. it's surprising the stuff you find in there. preferences (untoasted raisin bagels, KJV, and analog watches), habits (well, i've gotten over the nailbiting, but i still practice scale and chromatic fingerings when i'm bored), old poems (The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep), plans for sky castles (the Surprise, or Kourageous Kid's Krossing. yes, it was KKK, but we didn't know about the Ku, or if we did, we didn't care. well, i still don't.), or any sorts of bits of randomness (never put bananas in the refrigerator, lightsabers add one to force drains, 40 and 40M are the cheapest buses back to U Hall and 37A also ends up at Chi Fu Landmark so I can go to Park 'n Shop and get groceries, and when it's time to play Risk, you open a sleeve of newtons—it's just what you do)

the tides erase many memories. names of places, facts about various friends, any number of experiences, book plots, general history, and the entirety of organic chemistry. they're replaced. i think i'm supposed to be sad. it's like one era has ended and a new power has ascended the throne. well, maybe the change isn't that dramatic. perhaps all we have is a new king. a successor. the boy prince is finally figuring out how to rule his kingdom.

isn't he supposed to start by restoring the temple and finding some lost scroll? or was it that he let the baobab trees take over his asteriod? or did he drive the Telmarines from his land? or maybe he just stands there as part of the chorus and says "For never was there such a tale of woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo." (yes, i did my research and it is Escalus who has these lines)

but today is not a time to survey my dominion. instead, i lace up my soccer boots. i'm trying something new today. not that i've ever dominion-surveyed before. sounds kinda fun. especially if you have Mufasa around.

Oh Peter, I love this show. Here's a gem:
Upon hearing that Kiefer Sutherland played Jack Bauer on the TV show "24," Jack Bauer killed Sutherland. Jack Bauer gets played by no man.

Wish list (just in time for Three Kings Day and Orthodox Christmas)

I want a coach.
I want some good sense.
I want quiet.
I want to finish this book.
I want a little illumination, or maybe some sunshine.
I want anonymity.
I want to be able to call a spade a spade. I want to be able to hate on democracy and call jesse jackson a racist and make holocaust, AIDS, and anorexia jokes and talk about suicide without the world going nuts.
I want bad drivers to just hire chauffers.
I want a plan I'm settled with.
I want to apologize.
I want to be more observant.
I want a rival.
I want another season of Arrested Development.
I want to know true happiness and true sorrow.
I want to be a better friend.
I want to be able to remember what the word incarcerated means.

Things that are on the list, but not officially (meaning, we can't talk about these, and actually I'm not sure why I'm disclosing them, but it's just late enough for me to do something I'll probably regret later. But my therapist might say this is a step in the right direction. Of course, I'd probably tell my therapist (s)he can go to hell, I'll decide what's my own right direction, and I'm doing this because it's just what I happen to be doing.)
I wouldn't mind being understood occasionally.
I wish I could buy into a more widely-held view on things.
I wish I could relate to people better.
I wish I wasn't so proud, or dark, or walled, or detached, or obdurate.
I wish I wasn't so set on being those things.
I wish I could live outside my head.
I wish I didn't care so much about being right.
I wish I was more intentional.
I wish I was more honest.
I wish I had a good reason (outside the fact that I find it useful) to believe anything.
I wish I knew how to not be alone.
I wish this didn't sound to cliche.
I wish I'd actually post this.

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.