Must ... resist...

must not turn on tv... must not get sucked into watching top chef until 3 am like last week (gotta watch the reruns to get to the current episode) and then falling asleep in class.

must get sleep...

had class today from 9 to 4. they gave us 5 (6 hours) friggin lectures in one day. and about a zillion different anesthetics to memorize (that i'll never use). i'm so behind again.

rotten bastards.

Actually Busy

I don't know that I'll be able to update again for a while. In fact, i don't even know why I'm updating right now. Oh yeah, because I'm a retard. Anyway, I've foolishly agreed to work on an a software project for an orthopedics residency program which I have to complete before October during which time I'm taking what is supposed to be by far our toughest class this year, neuroanatomy. So I've been coding like a monkey this past week for an as of yet undetermined (but unfortunately definitely non-gargantuan) amount of pay and another line on the ol' CV.

The good news is I'm really liking neuroanatomy. The bad news is I haven't been studying. The good news is most people seem to really suck at this class. The bad news is there's no curve.

And I know my next Saturday (before our midterm) is going to be shot because I am delusionally hopeful and I have to watch UCLA-Stanford. I need to get myself to stop checking those damn bootleg forums.

Because I'm such a nice person I volunteered at the free clinic again yesterday. I'm so nice that even if you're coming in for a pregnancy test, I give you a complete comprehensive neurological exam, FREE OF CHARGE! I really love whacking people with the reflex hammer. I like how when nothing happens I look all worried and then the patient thinks something might be wrong with them. I think my patients were getting annoyed with me for wasting so much of their time, but hey I need my practice. Like I care that you're just here for a TB reading.

Every time I save lives at the clinic I feel the need to treat myself to something nice afterwards. What can I say it ain't easy having the healing power of Christ flow through your hands. Sometimes it burgers and a milkshake. Yesterday I split a huge yummy pizza at IMO's. At this rate I think by the end of 3rd year I will weigh 300 pounds.

Okay i need to get myself to borders and get away from this time sink of a computer...

Soothing Song of the Week - Sia - Breath Me.mp3      (full album here)

Angry Song of the Week - Tool - Sober.mp3

(hopefully one of these can please andrew)

Remember kids, copyright infringment is baaad, mkay?

Too Busy

Medical school has changed me. There just isn't enough time in a day. I remember the good old days before my shoulders bore this heavy burden of noble life-savingness. I remember how I could always stop to enjoy the world around me. I remember how I could take 20 minute dumps and not feel guilty about my time. The good old days.

Now I am all business. Which is really pretty frustrating. I find myself some good reading material, I sit down on my porcelain throne, and not 2 paragraphs later the turtle has jumped ship and the deed is done. Then what? Then I'm just some weirdo reading in the bathroom for no good reason.

... i don't know why i felt I had to share that. But seriously i'm pretty busy these days. I don't know how I manage to always squeeze in a good 2 hours looking up stupid stanford sports stuff.

...

The past 2 or 3 years I've worn nothing but black shoes. It's nice because I don't have to worry about color-coordinating and black shoes never look dirty until you take a close look.

But recently I've been wearing the new white sneakers my bro bought me and they've been tripping me out. My feet look so alien and glaringly bright to me. I keep looking down at my feet while I walk, it's so distracting. I feel so paranoid that people are staring at me because of my ultraviolet kicks.

... i don't know why i felt I had to share that either.

...

Just finished the our first week of classes. I will say that the incoming class of girls definitely looks a lot cuter than ours. But apparently that's what the class before us thought of our girls and then the beer / fresh-meat / medschool goggles wore off and they found themselves wanting to gouge their eyes out.

The quote of the week from my professor- "This is it guys. This is the year when you can finally go home at the end of the year and not feel like be a complete idiot. When people ask you questions you will actually be able to answer them. And if you don't know the answer, you'll know just enough to bullshit them."

Yes!!! I can't wait. My mom never listens to me when I try to tell her bacon fat is good and brocolli is bad for you. Another year under my belt and she will believe everything I say.

...

I love how I keep getting hits on my blog from searches for "big vagina pics"

..

Okay I had a bunch of other stupid shit I don't know why I feel like sharing but I should probably preread for tomorrow instead so i will have to save it for another day i suppose.

............

Song of the Week - Mandy Moore - Umbrella.mp3 (Rihanna Cover)

JAYSUS H-FUCKING CHRIST

IT IS HOT OUTSIDE!!!!!

Suckiness

Have I mentioned before, how much I hate the midwest?

It is so @(%&in gross and sticky outside. Everyone has B O. I got back here on Wednesday and my stupid car battery died on me. My sexy legs are covered in bug bites. My whole body is sore from the gym.

All this and more I blame on Missery. Godforsaken state. Damn I miss California.

So last night I went with 7 other people to go watch Rush Hour 3. Unfortunately, I did not realize when I agreed to the event that the theater would be so ghetto. I am so never going there again.

After getting over my initial fear of getting shanked in the ticket line, I thought it might actually be pretty cool. I mean, it's Rush Hour 3. Chris Tucker, right? It wasn't like I was watching some foreign film that requires depth of thought and a quiet ambiance for appreciation.

I was so wrong. It was like watching a movie with 1000 of your most annoying friends. I felt weird for NOT talking during the movie. I don't understand why so many people pay good money to show up to a movie late, spend so much time talking to each other or on their cell, and not pay attention to the movie. Or leave for 30 minutes and come back to the movie, and not without standing around like a dumbass blocking everyone's view. Why do so many of those who do pay attention feel compelled to add a play-by-play soundtrack? I find it all very perplexing.

The dude to my right in the row ahead of me... simply would not... shut.. the ... FUCK.. up!!! He just kept on talking and cracking jokes to his friends and his fat girl/wife/livestock/partner. I wanted to karate chop him on his stupid head. If only annoying people weren't so often 6'something and 200 pounds.

I took some solace in the fact that the girl in front and to the left of me kept glancing over to his side, giving what I thought were death glares that might shut him up. So she was pretty cool, I thought... at least until she whipped out her phone and started having a conversation right in the middle of the fucking movie.

The highlight of the night, however, was when we were trying (unsuccessfully) to find 8 consecutive seats. My buddy asked some dude sitting down if he could please move one seat over. His answer (to go along with his death glare)- "Go fuck yourself." I shit you not. I cannot make this stuff up.

Overall, the movie was okay. About a B. It had some very funny moments, but I thought the action was kind of weak (Jackie Chan seems a step slower),the plot was retarded and it just didn't work nearly as well as the first 2. But of course, my viewing experience might have skewed that opinion just a tad. Probably better off as a rental.

...

To prove that I am not a bitter person, I went back into the heart of the ghetto today and volunteered at our free student clinic. One thing I realized is that I am really shitty at asking shy teenage girls about their periods and sexual activity. Especially when I have super nice but way too much smarter than me 4th year pros breathing down my neck. Especially when the a/c is broken and it's 110 degrees in your tiny exam room and you've got sweat dripping down your face because you've somehow over the course of a summer forgotten how to take blood pressure.

And please someone tell me how exactly are you supposed to count a girl's respiratory rate (apparently you can't just tell them what you're doing, they have to be distracted) without looking like a chest/belly staring pervert?

Thankfully I did much better handling the adorable 19 month old who kept smiling and bouncing all over the place. I love telling parents of beautiful kids that their kids are beautiful. I'm such a sucky liar when kids are ugly, I'm always sure they can sense my insincerity.

I have to say, as much as I like to bitch and pretend about how crappy my life is, I have things pretty good compared to most. After all, I don't have nightmares because my 13-year-old best friend was stabbed to death with a steak knife by a 12-year-old boy. Nor does my past medical history include having been sent into a coma for a few days after getting jumped. Crazy stuff.

.....

Song of the week - Muse - Starlight.mp3

No Sex in the Champagne Room

Okay so I'm disappointed. I watch Grey's Anatomy. (Well I did until this last year when they started with that whole retarded love triangle thing... i mean seriously, who even considers picking a vet over Dr. McDreamy. I know vets are smarter because they can treat the entire animal kingdom but come on...) So I know how much closet sex surg. residents are supposed to get in between tough bouts of saving lives.

At least I thought I knew... I've been spending over 12 hours a day in this neuro surgery resident's room for the past two weeks and not once has a resident come into this place with a with a busty nurse spilling out of her scrubs looking for a quickie. Have I been deceived? I mean, this is the dream of becoming a surgeon. Right up there with the bragging rights ("I'm a surgeon" *wink*), the money, and the privilege of being rude to others and having them come to expect such treatment. Oh and the helping of people, of course.

I'm still holding out hope that there's another, closer room in the hospital where the real excitement takes place. All the residents do here is check their messages and discuss complicated brain stuff that's way over my head. I have overheard some amusing conversations though about "fleas"- "I could do his job with half of my brain tied behind my back!"

Hanging out with these neurosurg guys has made me seriously consider going into neurosurgery. Everyone here is actually super chill and really nice. Not that I particularly care about brains. In fact the whole concept reminds me too much of hannibal lecter. But I would do it just for the right to work "well, it's not brain surgery" into my daily conversations. Rocket Science? Yeah rocket science is hard but it's not brain surgery. Which I do.

...

I really want to get something small for the super nice secretary lady who lets me into this hell hole every day. I have a secret fear that she hates my guts because I'm always bugging her at the worst times to unlock the lounge door. But she's always really sweet and friendly to me and I think nice people deserve to get shown some sort of appreciation. A card? Flowers? Candy? Edible underwear? I should probably find out her name first. Not that I have the time to do any shopping. So I'll probably get her nothing. But they say it's the thought that counts. I have officially thought about and documented my desire to get her something nice. Therefore I must be a good person. QED.