NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH

Whenever people ask me "is med school like Gray's Anatomy" I want to throw a shit fit. Med school is NOT like Gray's anatomy. Med school is something like Mean Girls crossed with Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Everyone is stressed and angry, there are cliques, people make fun of each other, we're tossing around chunks of dead body, and we are perpetually terrified. There are no McDreamies or McSteamies, just McDonald's or Wendy's, the only kind of food most of us can afford/have time to eat. The only action most of us have gotten in a while is unintentional, as we searched for the hymenal caruncles (remnants of the hymen) or the suspensory ligament of the penis.

The other reason that question bothers me: Grey's Anatomy is a terrible show. I've watched it twice and that's two times too many.

Yesterday we donned our bright blue, poorly fitted, cardboardesque scrubs for one last time and took our final exam.

About 3 months ago we walked into the lab and saw cadavers on their backs, hands neatly folded in front of them. That was a little weird, a little scary, and maybe even gross for some people.

What's left over? A room full of severed body parts; hemisected skulls, hemisected pelvises, and the occasional cross-section of a penis (at least we know what Lorena Bobbit saw). The legs are detached from some bodies. I can't imagine what we would've felt like if we had walked in the first day and seen that.

The nastiest nasty shit (no pun intended) was when there was doo-doo in some of the butts. Feces in the rectum, if you will. Doo-doo on the books, doo-doo on people's lab coats. Ugh.

As much as I loved anatomy, I'm extremely glad it's over. That class required way to much time spent in that lab, inhaling chemicals and coping with my inability to understand things spatially.

vs.

PIRATES VS. NINJAS

The time consuming, mind decaying invention that is Facebook has brought to me a very pressing question: Is it better to be a pirate or a ninja?

Unecessarily long background on Facebook applications: Pirates versus ninjas is one of thousands of pointless applications that I did NOT add to my page on facebook. I do, however, have Scrabble (Scrabulous), The Office quotes generator, and maybe one or two other cool things. "Buy me a drink" application and "superpoke" or "superwall with grafitti" do look appealing, but I already spend unreasonable amounts of time on facebook. Adding these applications would only end one way: Me failing med school and becoming a Meth addict.

Back to the point: Pirates versus Ninjas is an application where you choose to be a Pirate or a Ninja, I think. I didn't add the application, but it did somehow end up wasting a lot of my time anyway, since it got me thinking a lot.

Thinking about what? Well, thinking about whether it's better to be a pirate or a ninja, of course.

The answer to that question was seemingly simple: a ninja, no doubt! Ninjas are awesome. With stealth and speed, they assassinate their enemies gracefully. They have powerful minds. They wear black, which is slimming. They are nimble and quick (like Jack).

Pirates are brutes. They are loud and rough and vulgar. Clumsy, too, what with all those wooden legs and missing eyes.

Then I got to thinking: which represents ME more.

Anyone who has spent time with me knows that I could be a spokesperson for modern day pirate women. I am loud and vulgar. I'm rambunctiously clumsy and clumsily rambunctious. I eat, drink, and am merry all the time. I call out to my friends "Yo ho," which is one "ho" short of being a cliche pirate song (I think it goes: "yo ho ho and a bottle of rum"). OK, that last one was a stretch. I do, however, curse like a PIRATE, as I've been told repeatedly by family and friends.

BUT, at least I'm really happy all the time, and I know how to have fun.

Let's see. What if I could be both? But wait! Ninjas are quiet. As in, no talking. I *always* have something to say. Furthermore, ninjas are thin and in shape. Pffft. Need I say more? One more thing: Ninjas are great at deceiving people, and being sneaky. I don't lie. Not because I feel bad, but because I suck at lying. It's so much easier to be honest. Brutally honest at times.

So after realizing how pirate-like I am (and how ninja-like I am not), I had to reassess my initial thoughts on which is better. Of course, at this point, I was starting to become pirate-biased.

Ninjas may be extremely skilled warriors, who bring the art of fighting to a whole new level... they may be super cool and nimble and awesome, but they show no emotion. They're cold. They live the life of a ninja, sneaking around and hiding. Hiding their true emotions. Hiding their faces. So sad is the life of a ninja.

Pirates enjoy life and party. They don't take themselves seriously, and they're always on a boat. They have great tans (I think) and lots of booty (not the J-lo kind).

Speaking of J-Lo, HOLY CRAP she's ballooned.

Look at that heifer. Who says pregnancy isn't a disease?

OMG OMG OMG J/K

Moving back to pirates and ninjas, I cannot deny that although I am compelled to pledge allegiance to piratedom, I am still fascinated by the ninjas. I could try to be a ninja, but I think at this point in life it's too late.

The solution: find me a ninja man, who I can make pirate-ninja babes with. How cool would that be?

In all seriousness, though, I tend to like those who are calm, cool, and collected. I feel as though I really need people like that in my life. For a long time now, those who have been my most comforting friends have been this way, with some exceptions.

Don't get me wrong: I love hanging out with other pirates, but it's the ninjas in my life are the ones who bring me balance.

"Flying first class, up in the sky...Champagne, livin' the life"

God, Fergie's dumb. The worst part about it all is that she thinks we're just as dumb as she is, so she spells things out for us. "G-L-A-M.... O-R-O-U-S"

Somehow she's smart enough to have found people who can insert her into some exceedingly catchy songs. "My humps" = pure genius. No? It's a profound social commentary on current gender roles in society and the female's ingenious use of anatomical protuberances to subvert the need to pay for things herself.

"You love my lady lumps."

OK fine. It's not a social commentary. It's a dumb song by a dumb ho. But I love it. It's fun to dance to. And it's hilarious!

Why am I here? I can't study anymore. I found myself reading 2 pages at a time without actually *reading.* Then Pandora radio started playing "Glamorous" and that was the end of my motivation to even THINK about being motivated to study.

Yes, I'm complaining about school again. It's so painful.

On that whiny note: I missed the Office tonight, for the first time all season (besides the very first episode). And for what? To study for the stupid quiz. Oh so sad! Fear not, I am equipped to deal with this situation. DVR. I got a sweet deal with the cable company and it's only costing me 10 bucks a month, split with my Indian Princess roommate. I've watched more television this year than I have since I was in highschool. The Office, It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia, Californication, Entourage, South Park, Big Love. With the exception of Big Love, everything I watch is comedy. I don't like to feel sad or concerned when I watch TV. Good comedy is a good vacation away from this world. I haven't watched the news in ages.

Maybe that makes me in denial, which, as it turns out, isn't only a river in Egypt.

wait for it....

wait for it...

*Badum-bishhhhh*

ANYWAY, I recently watched a couple of episodes of "Weeds," which is also a spectacularly funny show.

Back to the subject of school, since I have nothing better to talk about: in less than 30 days, I'll be in Jacksonville, with NO EXAMS to study for. I'll be shadowing a real doctor for 2 weeks or so. That means I get to actually remember WHY I AM IN MEDICAL SCHOOL. It also means I get to relax and party my ass off with other students who are up there. I'm pretty excited.

Until then, I'll take life one caffeine fix at a time.

Life, insomnia, and the pursuit of happiness

I should be sleeping! We have a quiz on Friday. Damn over-sized energy drinks (I had one with lunch today... not smart).

The first semester of medical school (one half of one fourth of the whole shabang) is almost over. We'll dissect tomorrow then just once more before anatomy is over. I'm somewhere in between relieved and sad.

I've had such an intense love-hate relationship with anatomy. On the one hand, there's the smell, the impossible nature of the tasks handed to us, the volumes of information we must memorize, regurgitate, and understand. On the other hand, there's the unique experience to peek inside a human being (22 human beings, to be exact), to see what makes us tick. All the stuff we've learned is pretty neat. I know what you look like on the inside. Weird, isn't it?

This unit- abdomen and pelvis, is supposed to be the easiest. But morale is low. Everyone's tired of studying, tired of smelling like formaldehyde, and tired of not seeing the light of day. Even though November 14 will mark 3 months of medical school for us, I feel like most people are still adjusting to this life (or lack thereof).

I am still struggling to figure out where I want to be through it all. Do I always want to do my best? I remember reading once that no matter what you're doing, do it as well as you can and you'll be happy.

On the other hand, I have interests and aspirations that lie well outside the realm of medical school, and require that I look beyond this obsession with doing as well as I possibly can.

The old question is: "What do you call the person at the bottom of his (or her) med school class?"

The answer, of course, is "Doctor"

So why be miserable and try to get the A, when I can be having fun and getting lower grades?

I haven't studied hard for the quiz on Friday. I've been getting all the sleep I need, cooking for myself, and keeping up with my television (Heroes and South Park, to be precise). To the outsider, this may seem like nothing. But to a med school student, spending all that time not studying is equated with throwing in the towel. Luckily for me, I'm a fast learner and I'll be fine. But only "fine." I won't be "excellent" or "exemplary." I won't be pushing myself to full potential. Then I'll feel crappy about it.

The conclusion: there is no happiness in medical school. If you push yourself all you get is a grade. If you try to live your life and be happy all you get is remorse.

Maybe I should stop bitching and moaning about this. I knew it would suck before I started.

I'm almost done downing my insomnia remedy (lots of wine) so perhaps I should hit the proverbial hay.

One more day of agony, then the quiz...

...then some more agony before the last exams at the end of November...

...THEN only 3.5 years more of medical school!

Sweeeeeet.

(shoot me)

Urban Dictionary's Take on My Schools

So, I was perusing Urban Dictionary, and the word/phrase of the day a few days back was "Don't Tase Me Bro," paying homage to the event at my wonderful school, where campus police tazed (or is it tazered) a student who was getting a little uppity when asking John Kerry a question. I noticed that the words "University of Florida" were a link, so I clicked, and found this entry for my Gatorrific school:

University of Florida:

A place where diversity is a foreign word, and the girls wouldnt dare wear anything execpt pink, pearls,and a camo hat with their sorority letters on it, and you will stick out like a sore thumb if it doesn't look like you took 9 and 1/2 hrs to get ready.

I thought this was titillating, particularly because "the U" (University of Miami) actually sounds a lot like this. At least that's how I felt all 4 years there. My curiosity led me to search for my alma mater. The first entry was:

University of Miami:

The only place in the world where a hairy Jewish kid will get laid by a supermodel.

This is hilarious, because it's true.

Finally, I figured I'd finish the trifecta and search for good ol' Georgetown. I figured this would have the most negative but hilarious entries. I recoiled in terror to only find good things, including:

The best overall university in the United States--well-adjusted, smart, ambitious, good-looking, socially aware, and involved students come from across the country and the world to attend this great university. No better place for an undergraduate experience.

Um.. WTF? Seriously. Georgetown is a joke. Granted, I didn't go there for undergrad, so my view is skewed. It's in a GREAT area, yes. It's a beautiful school, yes. But come ON. There is so much to make fun of there. Everyone's got more money than they know what to do with, there are popped collars everywhere, and they THINK they are an Ivy League school. Also, despite it being in the middle of one of the most diverse cities in the world, "diversity" is a foreign concept at G-town.

The rest of the entries for UM and UF were mixed: good and bad, lots of funny stuff. There was snobbery in the entries for all 3 schools, but Georgetown was by far the worst.

Something I learned: Apparently, UF students consider UF to be a public Ivy League of the South. Umm... I don't know bout that. It is a great school, though. I am happy to be at UF med school.

On that note, I should get my happy ass to that wonderful med school and get to studying.

Medical school woes

Last week during a break between our exams someone told me that the first year of medical school brings out the worst in people, particularly girls.

Medical school, in all its glory, has made me the most irritable person I've ever been.

I feel like I need the unabridged, fully illustrated version of "How To Deal With Annoying People."

I used to be one of those people who could probably host a 5 day seminar on how to deal with annoying people gracefully. Suddenly, I am one of those people who should be in the front row of that seminar, taking notes feverishly.

I partially attribute it to overexposure. I'm at school 7 days a week, many hours a day, same people every day. It's like high school over again, except way less fun.

I also attribute it to the fact that med schools everywhere are likely to have many individuals exhibiting social pathologies. You've got your judgmental closed minded, opinionated kids. You've got your overachieving, ass-kissing, "I'm only out for myself" kids. Many times, you'll encounter people who exhibit both sets of traits. Then there are people who only study and have no life whatsoever. And the perpetually stressed out individuals... just looking at them bumps up my systolic pressure a good 20 mmHg.

Eventually, you become a product of your environment, don't you? I've caught myself obsessing over grades, torturing myself with guilt for taking a day off from studying. I've found myself wanting the A more than anything in this world. Bleh.

What also sucks is that I often don't know what to talk about besides school. I'm so boring. I've forgotten how to communicate with people who are not in med school.

Another thing: Every once in a while, a fellow classmate will sigh and wonder aloud "Why are we doing this to ourselves? Why are we in med school?" I usually turn around and walk away from this conversation, because falling into self doubt is definitely NOT on my sticky note "To Do" list. But alas, I cannot escape my own mind, and I find myself wondering more and more whether or not this was a good choice.

All that stuff (the overexposure of people, the complete immersion in medical school with no other hobbies, and the self doubt) is possibly the reason why I'm such an angry bitch.

Maybe this is who I was all along and I just had the energy to hide it well before.

Hopefully it's just a phase.

It could be worse than irritability, I suppose. I'm pretty sure school has made many of my classmates depressed, anxious, unhappy, smelly, etc. It's definitely the number one leading cause of breakups. So if all it does to me is make me a mega bitchy woman, then maybe I am blessed.

*******

Luckily, this past weekend was loaded with fun. I wrote all that stuff before the weekend actually started.

Gator Growl on Friday night = Frank Caliendo, Lynrd Skynrd. Very nice. The rest of the weekend was great fun, and I actually cooked and cleaned too. I felt normal again...

...only to wake up on Monday hating myself for being so damn irresponsible.

See? There's no such thing as happiness in medical school.

So I'm in Miami for the second time this month. I have an exam on Friday, and I really shouldn't have come down. But I did, because my friends got married this weekend.

The drive down was pretty long but very peaceful (minus almost dying while driving through a brief hurricane), as I had 5 hours to myself. I tried to convince myself to stop caring about school as much. I fooled myself into thinking that I would be okay with just passing. I don't need to get exceptional grades, because I don't want to be a dermatologist or plastic surgeon. Chances are I'll go into family medicine (not competitive at all). So why not enjoy life? Why be miserable in med school?

This morning I woke up hating myself for not studying more. I guess I have a lot more convincing of myself to do.

The other endless amount of self reflection time bestowed upon me this weekend happened before and during the wedding. A whole boatload of stuff to think about:

-Marriage
-The horror that is planning a wedding
-Proper attire for weddings
-The Spanglishness of the mass
-Whether or not there would be an open bar later
-Religion (because it was, of course, in a Catholic church)

I was there extra early, because I was the best man's date. I didn't know anyone else besides the groom's family, and so, naturally, I sat alone. Alone and lonely. In a church. As I looked around, I saw how wound up and stressed out everyone was. The wedding coordinator people were the worst. I couldn't bear to look as they barked out orders at anyone who was involved in the wedding.

It got me thinking about how I do NOT want a big wedding. I don't even want a conventional one. Big white dress? No thanks. Subjecting my best friends in the world to don some pastel-colored chiffon or satin dress that they'll never wear again? Um, no. Trying to figure out who to invite and who not to... oh dear God. Finding a venue, finding a pastor, picking the food, choosing the flowers, ugh. It's all so... horrible.

My ideal wedding will be a huge ass party with all the people I love. It will be outdoors and there will be barbecue and an amazing bartender and DJ. My dress will be something classy but sassy, no poofiness, no extra miles of fabric that will drag behind me endlessly. Then, with all the money I didn't spend on a big poofy dress and souvenirs, I will go on a honeymoon every year for the first 5 of marriage.

Don't get me wrong, the big white dress, the beautiful decorations, it's all nice. It makes me feel like a girl. But I don't want it.

After I decided that I would never have a traditional wedding, the organ played and there came the bride, all dressed in white. I got a little misty eyed (I'm a loser) and remembered meeting this girl when my friend first started dating her. They are a very cute couple. *sigh*

Then, they started exchanging vows and all that jazz. Then I realized that I probably would prefer to never get married. All that pressure. Is it really necessary to make it official? I love you, you love me, let's start a family and live together. Screw the bells and whistles. Also, I know my dad will cry like a baby. That makes me never want to get married.

During the rest of the mass, I couldn't help but think about all these things, while simultaneously noticing the revealing clothing of most of the girls there. My mother gave me a shawl to cover up with before I left the house. Most girls there were tramping around like it was Club Church, and, quite frankly, I didn't think it was a big deal. But what was Jesus thinking? I'd like to know.

As mass droned on and on, I started to feel semi-guilty for being in my own la-la land and not paying attention. But I don't know how many people actually DO pay attention during mass. Even when I was the holiest of holy kids, singing songs of praise and proudly responding to every prompt given by the priest, my mind used to wander. I can't imagine how adults could do it, or IF they do it.

Mass should have less ritual, less words, and more meaningful exercises. Moments of reflection to give thanks for all Jesus did... that's great. But praise be the Lord 15 times gets a little old, and I don't think people mean it every time they say it. Not because they don't believe it, but because they go into automatic pilot mode, while they think about whatever they are thinking about that probably has absolutely nothing to do with the Father, the Son, or the Hoy Spirit.

I also noticed how ornate the church was. This is more common in Catholic churches than other denominations of Christianity. I wonder how much it cost to build the church, how much maintenance is, etc. I realize the money is going to a "good cause," but there are better causes, and shouldn't a place of worship be humble and simple anyway?

I decided that if I had a religion, mass would be outdoors. It wouldn't be mass. It would be like, hey, let's get together and meditate, and feel grateful for what we have. Let's pray for those in need. Let's work toward the betterment of mankind, and let's start with ourselves. Let's plant a tree.

Yeah. And there would be music, too. And yoga.

Hmmm... the Church of Marianatology. Or Marianaism, Or Marianity.

Anyway, soon enough the mass was over, after about 7 different weird rituals, like a noose-rosary (ironic, no?) around both their necks and the lighting of a candle. The reception was awesome, and yes, there WAS an open bar. Vodka + dancing the night away helped me forget that I'll probably never get married, and that I'll probably fail Friday's test.

Today in lab, I sawed a man's face in half. Right through the middle of his forehead, in between his eyes, splitting his nose in half... down to the jaw bone.

It was brutal, and most people felt pretty weird about it. I'm shocked that I am so desensitized.

School is sucking a little lately. Oh well.

What will they think of next?

So I log onto MySpace for no good reason at all, and I find that people who I haven't spoken to in a while have posted comments on my page with links/pictures/videos. I assumed one of them was just a funny you tube video or something, so I click, and what happens? I get redirected to the MySpace log in page. Just as I was about to re-enter my username and password, Firefox popped up with a message, as seen below:


It's kind of tough to make out what the message balloon says. "Suspected forgery" and some long explanation that this site is wack and trying to steal my info.

It's really tough to feel safe on the internet these days. We had an entire one hour lecture during the beginning of orientation about "internet safety" and how our passwords should be insanely complex like, "h4y7U909!$k009" and how we should NEVER store passwords on the computer, bla bla bla.

Damn Phishing scams.

I tested it out on Internet Explorer and it also gave a warning about forgery.

Maybe blogging is just a huge scam used to steal people's opinions, rants, and bad writing. OMG. Maybe scientologists are behind it.

I don't know why I said that. Apparently a lecture was given on campus by the Psychiatry interest group about how Scientologists think they have the right to hurt psychiatrists for some reason. Religion is ridiculous. Why should we live our lives according to what someone else/an institution deems as correct. Bah. Ridiculous.

What if I wanted to be a psychiatrist? I don't want some placenta-eating, multi-alien composed guy coming at me with a chainsaw. Sheesh. Oh. Woah there. Totally politically incorrect of me.

Since Scientologists are running this blogging phishing scam, I'd like all of Scientology to know something important: I do not want to be a Pyschiatrist. I'm going to be an Obstetrician, and I will provide you with more placenta than you can sink your teeth into. Please do not steal my identity, or my thoughts on life as a med school student. KTHXBYE!

See that diagram? It's a cross section of the thorax. I *loathe* cross sections.

So, tomorrow there's a quiz. I studied every day last week in anticipation of this quiz. I put in the hours, made the sacrifices. It was grand. I felt so on top of my shit. Part of my motivation: I wanted to go to Miami for the weekend. So I did. It was an amazing break, much needed, well deserved. I studied a bit while there, but not nearly enough. I got back to the swampland, donned my neatly folded (thanks mom) scrubs, and boldly walked into the anatomy lab. Ten minutes later I bolted out of there, with an overwhelming fear that I had bitten off more than I could chew. Or is it bit off? No time for grammar! I should be studying or sleeping. But first, I must throw a small blog pity party about how much more I should have studied this weekend.

I sacrificed study time for fun time, and I'm kind of tempted to say it was well worth it. I mean, I can't let med school be EVERYTHING. As the med schoolers say, P=MD. What that means is PASS = MD, as in, all you need to do is pass to become a doctor.

If you happen to want to be, oh, let's say, a plastic surgeon, then this law doesn't apply. But I most definitely don't want to be a plastic surgeon, or a dermatologist, or an orthopedic surgeon, so I don't have to worry too much.

But I still have my pride! And, who knows? I might change my mind 8 million times and end up choosing a mega-competitive specialty. My crappy GPA will cause me to be rejected or force me to live somewhere awful... and why? Not because I couldn't do it, but because I chose to go to Miami and hang out at the beach and see my friends and eat delicious food and...

Oh f*** it. It was totally worth it!

Things have been going unusually well lately. I am happy to say, I got a new car, I got a FREE ticket to the Florida vs Auburn game, I've been on top of my schoolwork (kind of), and, finally:

THE OFFICE IS BACK!

Yes...

The first episode aired yesterday. It was one hour long. It was funny but not as amazing as I'd hoped. My favorite line (by none other than Michael Scott):

"I'm not superstitious... I'm only slightly stitious." (paraphrased)

HA!

My new car is pretty nice. It's a 2008 dark blue Pontiac G6. Thank goodness for a father who is kind enough to wire me money and arrange it all. Yay Dad!

It felt pretty weird to have my dad do all that for me. I'm usually more independent, but school is insanely time consuming and I asked my dad to iron out the details for me. Again, yay Dad!

I'm freaking independent. FINALLY. Relying on people for rides sucks. Not having a car in Gainesville sucks sucks sucks. But now, that's allll over.

The other awesomeness: I'm going to the motherlovin' game! This game is the second to last home game. I missed Tennessee because of the stupid exam. I can't wait to tailgate. The game's at eight.

Something else that's pretty cool... I went to power yoga twice this week. I used to take yoga for credit in undergrad (how sweet is that?) and I've been in love with it ever since. Unfortunately,
power yoga is like yoga on crack. Fortunately, it's a great workout and it leaves you feeling wonderful.

What's not so awesome is the fact that I've completely succumbed to the fact that I will spend a lot of time studying. Somewhere along the way, I lost my "I will not let school interfere with my social life" attitude. I have always done above average, while never really setting high standards for myself. Suddenly, I find myself unable to settle for anything less than outstanding. Twice this week I could've gone out and partied, and both times I found myself wanting to stay in and study. Not forcing myself to stay in, but *wanting* it. This is so strange. Could I possibly be growing up???

NEVER!

At any rate, I hope it persists and that it pays off, because I'd better not be both lame and mediocre!

Tonight, I will not be lame. I am going out. I want to celebrate the end of the week. On that note, I should go study for a couple of hours.

See? WTF?!

Exam, partying, and Gainesville rant

We took our first exam on Friday. Our Anatomy professor calls exams "exercises" and he says that we have to keep swimming, and each exam is like a buoy.

It's really an annoying metaphor, because it is a feeble attempt to make the whole ordeal seem like a fun game. It should be something like: You are in a torture chamber, and the exam is like when your torturer comes in to check on how miserable you are and inflict an extra amount of pain/suffering.

As usual, I exaggerate.

But 3 computer exams and a 2.5 hour practical with both cadavers and microscopes is really really tiring. Not to mention the fact that everything was tough, minus one exam, Radiology. That professor's got an amazing sense of humor, and the class is pass/fail. This is the recipe for a ridiculously easy exam.

I didn't suffer too much throughout the whole experience, though. It's just a test. I did well enough to pass it all, and even if I hadn't, we've got 2 more "exercises" then shelf exams, which are some sort of standardized exams to assess our learnin'.

The absolute BEST part about taking an exam, however, is the unanimous desire to go have a ridiculously awesome time afterward. That we did. We threw a house party, and more than half of our classmates showed up. It was a grand old time. I woke up on Saturday morning feeling less than ideal, but I got online and had my good friend Papa John make me a pineapple and ham pizza and have it delivered. Best hangover cure EVER.

The weird thing about the first couple of days after an exam is the readjustment to being normal again. I got used to spending 80-90% of each day studying or in the lab. It's so strange to wake up and have the option to sit around and watch TV all day (which is PRECISELY what I did yesterday).

Last night we went to the mediocrity that is downtown Gainesville. The assholes at the bar charged an extra 4 drinks on my tab. It is Gainesville, so those drinks only cost about 3-4 bucks each, but that is still bull-crap! I argued with them and they treated me as though I was some crazy drunk bitch. I was not really drunk, but I was definitely being a bitch after 5 minutes of their crap. Screw them for overcharging me. They erased the charges, but it was like pulling teeth and their customer service was pathetic. I suppose dumbass drunk Gainesville kids try to pull this all the time, perhaps because they were so drunk that they forgot that they had ordered all those drinks. This was most certainly not the case for me.

Ok that's enough ranting. I'm trying to love this town but it's getting harder. Whatever, it's only the second month of many, and I am sure there are some better bars around here. Sigh.

Why couldn't UF be in Miami?! Oh, I know why, I'd NEVER study.

Fickle Girrrl

Guys say "Girls are so fickle."

While I cannot speak on behalf of my entire gender, I can most certainly admit that I'm as fickle as a pickle.

A pickle that once was a cucumber, to be chopped up and used as an ingredient in a freshly tossed Mediterranean salad, but decided to jump into a vat of brine instead, only to later realize that it wants to be a cucumber again.

For the most part, being fickle has not been a totally terrible thing. I've gained exposure to a handful of possible career paths, tried lots of beer, learned about lots of different belief systems, etc. The value of this for me: a broader perspective, a greater understanding. The only time it really bugs me is when it is at the expense of another person.

My official apology: I am really truly very sorry for being so fickle.

This weekend presented with one decision was extremely tough to make: Go out and party on Friday night and/or go to the UF vs Tennessee game today, or stay in and study, study, study instead. I am pretty shocked that I chose the latter.

In the words of a once great punk band: "Well I guess this is growing up."

Uh, don't get me wrong, I definitely will watch the game. But no tailgating. OH MY GOD IT BURNS. Must.... drink... beer.

Being responsible sucks ass. Getting bad grades sucks significantly more ass, though.

Chronicles of the Spazziest (sp?) Med Student of Them All

Two things:

1: Yesterday in class, I opened up my laptop so I could take notes on the wonderful world of diagnostic imaging. I generally hit "Hibernate" instead of "Shut Down" so that I can open up the computer and have everything I was doing before still there. Little did I know, Firefox was open with Pandora radio up and running. It takes a while for the laptop to show me Windows and let me move around and do stuff. It does not, however, take more than one second for the music to come on FULL BLAST in the middle of the lecture. The song that was playing? Christina Aguilera, Dirty. She's just YELLING in the song. It is definitely on the list of the top ten songs you wouldn't want to be playing full blast in the middle of lecture. I scrambled to shut the sound off, but the volume controls were completely unresponsive. I held down the off button for a very long time before it shut down. Everyone had a grand old time laughing it up. Luckily the professor thought everyone was laughing at some joke he had put up on the powerpoint presentation.

2: Yesterday in lab, while returning from the tissue disposal bin, where I was dumping out the 6th container-full of thigh fat, I noticed a breeze. My pants fell down.

Yeah, no lie. At my ankles.

Luckily, my lab coat is really long, and I was covered down to my knee.

Still hilarious, tho. Again, laughter ensued and everyone else in the room was wondering what could possibly be so damn funny about shoveling fat out of a cadaver's thigh in a desperate attempt to clean out the femoral nerve. (Worst lab EVER, by the way).

Neither of these can top the time I yelled "I HATE YOU" while walking into a lecture hall last year. That was a classic.

The morals of the stories:
1: Pandora radio is not all it's chopped up to be if it actually thinks I'd like that awful song.
2: They need to make better fitting scrubs. How 'bout an elastic band? Would that kill them?

Britney Spears disappointed me tonight.

The VMA's seem to get worse every year. I shouldn't have sacrificed this past hour of study time...

"Sacrificed" pfft.

I heart Justin Timberlake though. And yeah, Britney has GUTS to come out and sing after all she's done.

Oh, back to why the VMA's are an insult to me. It's always poorly planned, people always read their cue cards incorrectly, and the technical difficulties are overwhelming.

Who am I to criticize this annual meeting of celebrities in a celebration of music? A formaldehyde drenched, very stressed out medical school student, who should have studied today, but for some odd reason couldn't find the motivation. Nearly failing last Thursday's quiz and an impending major exam in less than two weeks just don't cut it.

Oh, but I studied all weekend, so it's okay. NO NO WAIT, I DIDN'T STUDY ALL WEEKEND!

It was a fun weekend tho. I spent a couple of hours at school on Saturday kind of glossing over some Anatomy stuff, but I was too excited to get to tailgating (which was awesome). The game was cool too, but I was too tired to really care. Go Gators!

Tomorrow we have to interview a fake patient and we're getting videotaped. Later in the week, we will get into our small groups and watch ourselves. The stupid camera adds 10 lbs, and I am nervous as hell.

Bah! I suppose I should get to bed early. No use staying up and watching this garbage any longer.

QUIZ TOMORROW!

It is the first of many evaluations of my ability to take in new information, understand it, and be able to demonstrate that understanding by correctly answering a series of questions written by people who haven't been in medical school since before the discovery of electricity. It will define me as a medical school student.

No it won't. Hopefully it'll go okay enough that I don't fail, but not so well that I don't get the swift kick in the booty I need to get into high gear.

Before I know it, I'm going to have to choose a specialty.

I went to a Psychiatry Interest Group talk today. "Talks" by interest groups on campus are generally given during lunch time, and lunch is generally provided. But I seriously went to the talk with genuine interest.

Genuine interest in getting some pizza.

Oh, and also a slight interest in Psychiatry as a potential career.

I left with more than a slight interest. Psychiatry is one of the more humanistic medical career paths, and a lot more options exist beyond what most people think a psychiatrist is. I actually found the talk interesting, as well as very informational.

When one lady was talking, I got some really intense deja vu. Like, real deja vu. As in, I totally was here before, listening to these words, feeling this way.

Maybe it's a sign... In a past life I may have been a psychiatrist. Or a hungry medical student listening to a psychiatry interest group talk.

The speakers did/are currently doing residencies in psychiatry, and all of them said "I never thought I wanted to do Psychiatry." With my history of indecisiveness (switched career paths thrice), I most definitely have no clue about what I'll be doing in 4 years. But if I do end up choosing Psychiatry, I'll always remember this lunch talk, and perhaps when I'm a guest speaker for the Psychiatry Interest Group Talk for a bunch of new stinky first year med students, I'll tell them the story of what sparked my interest in Psychiatry. Maybe not.

On a totally unrelated, unnecessarily whiny note: I took a long shower and still smell like formaldehyde. There's a quiz on Thursday. I don't know what innervates the supraspinatus muscle, let alone what the hell it does. I don't know what mitochondria look like under a light microscope, or which proteins are involved in the zonula adherens of epethelial cells.

Perhaps I shouldn't think about residency when it's quite possible I won't even make it through year one...

Ok, that's an exaggeration, I hope. I'm just tired/cranky/stinky.

Gainesville is just plain WEIRD to me.

So, today I got a ride to school from my good ol' pal Horacio, who came up here for the game (which I *did* attend... damn it feels good to be a Gator). Anyway, I don't have a car, but I live a little less than 2 miles away from campus. Last year, in DC, I used to walk 3.5 miles to and from school (uphill, both ways, in the snow). It was great because it let me get a bit of exercise, some nice quiet alone time, and the chance to be outdoors after hours of being cooped up in horrendous classrooms.

After printing a google map, just in case I needed it, I started what I thought would be a regular walk home. Campus was strangely quiet and desolate, and as I approached the normally full commuter lot, I kind of felt a little scared. There was only one car in the parking lot. Campus security. As I walked through the lot, I heard the driver of the car turn on the ignition and start driving. Three seconds later the car was next to me and I heard a woman's voice: "do you need a ride to your car?" When I explained that I was just walking home, and that home was a good 2 miles away, she damn near slapped me upside the head. She called for a police officer to come drive me home, and had me sit in her car with her. I felt like a 5 year old who had just stuck a bobby pin in an electric socket and was being scolded by the proper adult authorities.

Sidenote: I actually did stick a bobby pin in an electric socket when I was younger. I got a nice big jolt, and I vaguely remember that my mom went all kinds of crazy on me.

Moving right along, this woman let me know that I should NEVER EVER walk alone at night. Sounds like common sense, I suppose. But again, I used to walk in DC, one of the biggest cities with the most crime. I used to walk home at 10 pm, without a care in the world. It wasn't even totally dark out tonight.

Back to her lecture: "There are crazy people out there, you never know. Not to mention alligators. You are new around here, you're not used to the alligators. If one of those things gets near you, you're gonna panic, not know what to do. You might run into traffic. There are snakes around here too. And very little lighting. And also, think about the fact that there are lots of heavily medicated people walkin' around comin' out of the hospital."

She straight up scared the shit out of me. I don't even want to walk around Gainesville in broad daylight anymore.

So the cop showed up, and he was less than pleased. I thanked the maternally inclined security guard, and almost wanted to hug her. She cared, and it showed. The transition from sweet lady to pissed cop was an awkward one. He had to clear out all the stuff from the front seat, while I just stood there wondering if I should sit in the back. That would've been cool. I would've been like "damn it feels good to be a gangsta". But I didn't want him to think I was used to sitting in the back of a cop car or something weird like that. So I got in the front. He asked me "what happened" and I explained the situation. He kind of just nodded. I wanted to break the silence, and even contemplated making a joke, like "I hope this is the ONLY time I'm ever riding in a cop car" but I was so embarrassed that I didn't dare speak (me, quiet?!?! hard to imagine, I know). He made some small talk and I got home, safe and sound, without a gator bite in sight.

I was pretty annoyed at the situation, because I really like walking, and it's too hot to do it before dark. I'm annoyed because Gainesville had given me a false sense of safety. I mean, coming from Miami and having lived in DC, how could I be afraid of lil' old G-ville? Damn this town, and its lack of public transportation and adequate lighting.

The only good thing that came out of this is that I met my security guard savior. She showed that she really cared and that UF is all about taking care of its students. I would never *ever* expect half of that from the University of Miami or Georgetown, ever.

So hooray for UF, hooray for kindness.

This place is going to take some getting used to. And by some, I mean a lot.

Weird place, this Gainesville. It's only been 3 weeks, perhaps I'll grow to love it eventually.

Oh yeah, and med school sucks.

Gross Anatomy is not really as fun and cool as I thought it would be. Formaldehyde burns the eyes, removing fat from a cadaver is time-consuming and quite disgusting, and trying to find nerves is nerve wracking.

But, it's still awesome in its own way.

I feel as though we all became unexpectedly desensitized to the fact that we are cutting away at a body which was once occupied by a soul. A mind, a heart. A person with real feelings, a life, maybe some kids? A person who had a favorite color and a favorite movie, fell in love, maybe did some drugs? Yeah, all those feelings *poof* disappeared as I made large incisions across the cadaver's back, pulled the skin away from the muscles, and scraped away the fat and tissue.

I try to stay conscious of the human side of it all, but I don't want that to deter me from learning. I also don't want to have nightmares. I do, however, want to always appreciate the individuals who graciously donated their bodies so that we stressed out twenty-somethings can get our hands dirty (literally) and do some learnin'.

Today, as the formaldehyde burned my eyes, I looked away from the dissection table to try to catch some clean breaths of air. I looked around the room, and saw the faces of my classmates, concentrating, slicing, searching, learning. It was like a scene out of a movie. What kind of movie, I don't really know. But it was like a movie, damnit. It made me feel very lucky to be in medical school.

I know, I know, once the 7 hour exam blocks and sleepless nights come rolling in, I'm going to be bitchin' like the rest of 'em. But for now, in between brief episodes of panic and stress, I'm still able to appreciate some things.

Speaking of appreciation, I have a new found appreciation for anyone who has ever put together furniture. I built my own desk yesterday. It was a relaxing activity in the sense that it had *nothing* to do with science, but it was frustrating in the sense that it had everything to do with incompetent instruction manual writers and poorly designed furniture. It is a sexy desk, very plain, very big. It felt good to build it myself, and I suppose I will never take that desk for granted. It would be cool if everyone could spend just one day in the shoes of the people who make things possible (ie the farmer who grows our food). Maybe not. Whatever.

That's all there is to say, I suppose.

A couple of posts ago I wrote about how while tearing apart my calendar from 2005, I remembered what a tough year it was. Check out my horoscope for today:

Leo (Jul 23 - Aug 22)

Reality has an obstacle or two to place in your way now, as Saturn is in its final week of visiting your sign. Consider the extraordinary pressures you have faced since August, 2005, to see what you can learn from the past two years. Remember, awareness is crucial; if you can understand your role in what's happening, then you can push through to the other side.

Crazy!

On a totally unrelated note: today I have my first dissection. I pre-read the lab manual, went to bed early, ate a good breakfast, packed a healthy lunch, and even got some annoying forms done that I had been putting off for a while. Being a responsible student felt great. I had such a smug sense of having everything under control. I said to myself, "Ha, world! You can't trip me today!" And then...


I realized that I forgot to bring my lab coat. Damn it.

Gaaaaaawd. Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

Anyway, enough of that. I just wanted to reflect on my horoscope. Some weeks the readings are so on the money it's scary.

First day of Class....

Was great. Despite being called out by the teacher for walking in late with two other people (and later being the only one that people made fun of for it), it was a great day.

We got stethoscopes which were donated by the Alumni Association. That was kind of emotional and it felt like a rite of passage. I'm still having lapses of "holy crap I'm here."

Then we got our first lecture in Histology. Boringest subject EVER.

Later in the day, we went into the anatomy lab and met our cadavers. It was intense, and a bit eerie. Their faces were covered up, which made it a bit easier to deal with.

The day ended with 2 hours of boredom in Histology lab. *yawn*

And now, it's almost 11 pm, my new bed time. At least that's what I'm shooting for.

Tomorrow we have our first dissection. I'm a bit nervous but mega-excited. Hopefully I won't botch anything up!

My MSN tarot reading: (yes, I realize it seems like BS but I do it for fun)

Today is a day where you want company, new acquaintances, friends, a new love, Mariana. The World puts you in a frame of mind that’s open to the world. You are likely to get plenty of invitations – and will certainly accept them, as you are keen to establish new friendships. Strength, on the other hand, makes sure that you use discrimination and do not waste your time with people who are not worth it. So make the best of this day and enjoy! You are going to have a very pleasant working day today. Your projects are coming along, your efforts are being recognized, your social skills help you be friendly with the people you are dealing with. Jointly, the Star and the World are opening up your horizons and are increasing your chances of success in every sphere. If you are working on a project involving a foreign country, you will get all the support you need. Look at the bigger picture!

Yuh. Making new friends is fun. It's been happening all week. I've gotten to know a good bunch of my classmates. It's still orientation, so for the most part, everyone seems real nice and cool. But who know what lurks beneath their first-impression cloaks. We'll find out come anatomy lab, exam time, and of course, when we're outside of school as more and more opportunities to get inebriated present themselves.

But I've gotta say, I'm so *STOKED* to be here. I pinch myself every once in a while to make sure this isn't an elaborate dream.

Today I dismembered a 2005 Salvador Dali calendar so that I could use the pictures to un-boringify the walls of my room. I saw all the stuff I had written on there, like "MCAT scores come out" and "recommendation letter deadline" from when I was applying to med school the first time. I got this little tingly "holy crap I did it" feeling as I flipped through the calendar. 2005, what a year. It was the year I graduated from college. It was also the year ridden with the most self-doubt. "What am I doing with my life?" nagged me frequently, along with "what do I want?" and "why the hell do I have so much trouble making up my mind?!"

I'm glad those days are over and that I know where I'll be for the next 4 years. Choosing a residency, however, may present a similar situation. But I'll cross that bridge when I get to it....

Ok, it's party time!

Oh Em Gee

(Spelling letters of the alphabet has become second nature to me thanks to Scrabble...)

ANYWAY...

OH EM GEE, I'm leaving to Gainesville today. Gator country. The Swamp. Ironically, I actually live pretty close to the Everglades here in Miami. Now THAT'S a swamp.

Tuesday marks the beginning of orientation, a week-long, 8-5 ordeal that will undoubtedly be exciting and tiring. I can't friggin' believe I'm going to medical school. I'd be lying if I said I'm not worried.

Worried about meeting new people? No. Worried about the workload? A bit. Worried that I will be miserable, never get married, and hate my career? You bet your sweet ass I am!

Ok, I'm exaggerating. I'm sure I'll trick someone into marrying me. I'm sure I won't be miserable, or at least I won't know I'm miserable until it's too late. But the career thing. Holy guacamole, this is a huge investment. Four years of school, several more years doing a residency, 200K in debt, studying my arse off, etc. Imagine doing all that then realizing... "I shoulda gone to law school."

Maybe I'll do it all then be a housewife. That would be cool.

For now, I need to get through orientation and force myself to pay attention. I always miss something, like a deadline or details about a requirement. It's because I have ADD. No not really. I hate when people say that. EVERYONE has ADD, apparently. I think it's just a case of "when something is boring, I don't want to pay attention to it." Freaking people just want to make excuses. "I have a disorder."

Damn it all.

Speaking of ADD, what the hell was I saying?! Ah well, I should go finish up for the big move.

You Make Me Better...

I'm partially obsessed with this song. Why?

-The words "You Make Me Better" are powerful. You should always be with someone who makes you better. But throughout the song, and I'm paraphrasing here, he says "I'm awesome, but you make me better" in several different ways: I'm a star, she's the sky, I'm a cake, she's the frosting. It's actually quite cute in a simple, cheesy way. And I feel the emphasis on the idea that he's just fine and dandy by himself ensures that people don't misinterpret the song to be a proclamation of codependence/low self estem. You know, he's not saying "I suck without you." Gosh it's great. Anyway, I should point out that a lot of the lyrics suck, but the concept is still great.

-The line: "I'm a movement by myself/but I'm a force when we're together." It makes me think of Physics. If movement is in terms of meters per second (m/s) and force is in terms of Newtons (kg*m/s^2), then that implies that his girlfriend is kg/s^2. Adorable, no? But wait. Somewhere earlier in the song he says "you plus me." So that means they're adding to each other. How can you add to a velocity to create force? I'm confused. I guess hip-hop stars are allowed to get away with fuzzy mathematics.

Ok, that was terrible. But I *always* think about that when I hear that line. I had to share. Back to normal reasons for loving a song:

-The beat is awesome.

-The video... is okay. I like the actress (Roselyn Sanchez) in it, which gives it a few extra points. She is very pretty and exotic looking. Again, it's not the most riveting video.

So yeah that's how I feel about this song. While popular music and hip hop has taken a turn for the worse lately, I am still finding some enjoyable stuff coming around, such as:

Stronger - Kanye West

(OMG AMAAAAAAZING SONG!)

The Way I Are - Timbaland & someone

(yes, blatant grammar error, but it's still a great song)

Delilah - Plain White Tees

(makes me sad)

And anything by Justin Timberlake or Nelly Furtado

OK, gotta run.

Miami, Foreign Country

The lovely city of Miami from a cruise ship

So today I was entering my house address in online some financial aid form and when I hit "F" for state, "Foreign Country" came up. I laughed to myself, because Miami really is like a foreign country.

Later on in the day, I had a "Miami is a foreign country" experience when I dragged myself to the gym. I'm not gonna lie, I was not in a good mood. When you arrive at the gym, you give your membership number and the employee has to enter it and make sure it's you based on a photo they take when you sign up.

Fun fact: The name of the gym is Porky's. Just charming, isn't it?

Anyway, I got to the front counter and there was a middle aged woman at the computer. I smiled at her and barely got the first number out when she rudely barked: "En Espanol, por favor." Yes, "por favor" means please. I don't remember if she actually said please but I will try to keep the demonization of this foul woman to a minimum, since I admit I was in a shitty mood. So I slowly, clearly dished out my membership number in Spanish, digit by digit, with a smidgen of attitude, I'll admit. I will also admit that while speaking slowly added a dramatic effect, part of my reason for doing so was because it took me a while to process it all in Spanish. How VERY inconvenient for the customer! Anyway, instead of just opening the gate and letting me get to sweatin', she decided to ask (rudely) where I opened my membership, because my number was weird, I assume. Honestly, my picture was up on the screen and she was just being a pain in my un-worked out gluteus maximus. There was another guy behind the counter who witnessed all of this; he saw that I was already irritated at this wench's attitude, and he saw me give her the number in a very annoyed way. He said "don't worry about it, just go in" and I knew he knew that his coworker was just being a pain in the ass and that it wasn't an uncommon occurrence. She didn't like my attitude, but she started it.

What bugs me is that it's definitely not the first time I've been faced with being treated rudely for speaking English in Miami. As an immigrant myself, I would like to put it out there that I have NO PROBLEM with immigrants. It's great that people from other countries can come here and have a real life and live the so-called "American Dream." I do, however, have a problem with the attitude of many Hispanics in Miami. There is a sense of entitlement. They take it for granted that they've got a huge community of their own kind, that they don't have to feel like strangers in a strange land, because a giant part of the population is just like them. "Learn English", I'd like to say. But, I know that it is not easy to learn a new language, especially when you are older, especially when 90% of the people around you are not helping you practice because they're all speaking to you in Spanish. That's fine. It is a matter of circumstance, and the truth is, if my parents lived somewhere where 90% of the people around them were Lebanese, they probably wouldn't speak as much English (and Spanish) as they do now.

But this lady didn't even make the effort. Her job is to listen to people give me their membership numbers. All she needs to do is learn the ten possible digits that could make up a membership number. WTF. I can count to ten in half a dozen languages. It's not that hard. But FINE, maybe that's too difficult for her. I'd respect that too. But for her to sass me up and demand I tell her my number in Spanish. Harumph! She's got some nerve!

And she's not THAT new to the country, because she has been working at the gym for at least a year (I remember seeing her there last year). So PSSHHH.

Ok, now I'm done ranting. I wish I had pulled the "No habla Espanol" card on her. Because what business does a Lebanese chick have speaking Spanish? Of course, I look like any other Cuban girl so people automatically assume that I speak it.

I grew up this way. Everywhere I turned there was someone who didn't speak English, or who didn't even care to try. Welcome to Miami, bienvenido a Miami. Damn Will Smith and his catchy tunes.

As much as I may complain about it (in case you couldn't tell, I complain about it a lot), I must say growing up here gave me the chance to learn and practice Spanish as though living in a Spanish-speaking country. I can say that I (sadly) speak Spanish better than Arabic. I also know a lot about Latin culture, particularly the food. Holy yum. It still sucks sometimes. Especially since everyone just expects me to bust some salsa moves because they assume I'm Cuban, then they see the spasticity that is my attempt to dance. The fancy footwork, the spinning, it's just way too much for me. Hand me a pastelito and call it a night.

Sigh... wonderful Miami, land of beautiful beaches and fake knockers, home of terrible drivers and rude non-English speakers. I've only been here a month and I'm already sick of it. Luckily, I haven't been caught in any traffic jams or terrible thunderstorms. It's days like these that make me miss DC in all its glory.

But it has been a great summer here. Hanging out with buddies, going to the beach/pool, bowling at a place that we used to go to in high school (except now we can get the great beer specials), partying it up on South Beach, etc... I can't deny it's a fun place to be, as long as you speak Spanish and have a high tolerance for rude, loud people.

In other news... on my way to the gym, I was stopped at a light and, much to my surprise, a group of ducks walked by. A herd of ducks? A school? I don't know what the proper name for a collection of ducks is, but a gang of ducks was totally just walking by in front of my car, in a straight line, the way ducks do. It took them a minute to cross the intersection, and they veered toward the right and were on the street, in the way of oncoming traffic! I was so scared of seeing one of them get run over. But, amazingly, cars avoided the duckies and all was right in the world.

I've neglected this blog, but with good reason. I'd say I've been partying like a rock star. Rock stars don't have time to blog.


But even in the beginning of my summer, when I would wake up at 1 pm and lounge around all day, I didn't write anything. I'm a slacker turned rock star and about to become stressed out medical student.


As a stressed out wannabe med student at good ol' Georgetown, I blogged a lot, so I guess that means come August 14, I'll be all up in this sheezy once again.


But for now, I want to brag about how awesome the past 10 days have been (pictures coming soon):


THE CRUISE... was tons of fun. Is there anything more relazing than being in the middle of the ocean, without a care in the world? The second we set foot on the deck of the ship, a waiter threw drinks in our hand.


Saturday at the Bahamas was pretty sweet. The place is kind of sad because you can see that the inhabitants of the island don't really have great lives, but they're stuck seeing tourists come in and spend wads of cash and litter their beaches and then get up and leave to their cushy homes with their nice cars and all that jazz. Sigh.


Anyway, we got to see Atlantis, a giant resort/hotel/casino/waterpark/aquarium/other stuff. Super nice. Again, kind of sad, because not even a mile away there are crappy roads and houses. We then rented jet skis. Tons of fun, and the highlight of the Bahamas for me.


We partied at Senor Frogs at night. We spent Sunday on the ship again, played some blackjack, and pulled an all nighter to watch the ship pull into the port of Miami at about 6 am. What a great city. I never thought I'd say that.


I spent the rest of the week at the beach when the weather permit it.



For the weekend, we had not one, but two nights at South Beach. Normally I'd cringe the thought of driving 30 minutes to South Beach, parking for 20 bucks, waiting in line, fighting the crowds, and paying for ridiculously overpriced drinks. But my relatively uneventful first 2 weeks here gave me an itch to party it up. Yes, I partied on the cruise. But I felt the urge to do the whole Miami/South Beach thing, considering my one month stay. So Friday night we went to Cameo, which is a ginormous club. It was crowded and we had to wait in line and pay to get in despite our "hook up." I bought a drink and, much to my dismay, the bartender let me know that there was a FIFTY DOLLAR credit card minimum. Welcome to Miami, I suppose. I got home at 6 am and slept the morning and early afternoon away.

Saturday night was significantly better. We went to a more upscale place called Karu & Y. No wait in line, no cover charge, no credit card minimum. Our evening began at midnight and ended with the usual really really late night munchies. Got home at 7.

Needless to say I partied it up and I'm partied out. For now. I feel like a tourist in my home town. It's great.

Moving to DC was such a good experience and it really let me appreciate Miami. And now it's off to Gainesville, which I'm sure will make me feel bad for ever taking Miami for granted.

In two weeks and one day, I'll be sitting at orientation. As excited as I was about all this UF med school stuff last week, I'm starting to get more and more anxious about the monstrous amounts of studying I will be facing. But I'm still excited.

Take You On a Cruise...

I'm going on my first cruise evarrrrr today! It's going to be Monica, her sis, her sis' friend, and little old me.

I'm not gonna lie, I'm psyched!!! I needed this vacation. Why did I need this vacation? I have spent the last two weeks doing absolutely nothing with my life here at home, sleeping in (till 3 pm the other day), lounging around... I need this (?)

Ok, I don't really need it. But I want it!

Last night I dreamt I took that Neuroscience final on a computer and that I ran out of time. Why is it that, a month and a half after classes have ended, I'm still dreaming about school? Yikes. In no time I'll be in school again. See? I kind of need the vacation!

I'm listening to Interpol "Take You On A Cruise" just to get pumped. Unfotunately, Interpol is not the best pump-you-up music. I may come to their concert in September thoough!

Speaking of concerts, Matis Yahu/311 was amazing!

Ok! Time to finish packing.

Home sweet home.

I've been here for six days and I'm bored out of my mind. It's been a relaxing week (somewhat). I have quite the to-do list with very little energy/desire/motivation to do stuff.

So, each day I've woken up at noon, enjoyed long breakfasts, and spent lots of time on the internet (youtube, facebook, tv-links). Once or twice in the day I do something slightly productive. I'm so damn lazy. From this laziness, comes boredom.

At night I've been doing low-key stuff, like playing monopoly and watching TV. My body is in shock. I'd gotten used to partying every night. I think this is making the boredom even more boring.

But today, in my pathetic attempt to be "productive," I organized all of the papers I've received from UF. I found a nifty little manual made for incoming students. As I flipped through it, it really hit me. I'm going to medical school.

(yay)

I'm freaking excited. Reading about all the classes I'll be taking and what my next four years are going to be like got me all eager (really). I like being busy and stressed out. And no matter what, nothing can be worse than this past year at G-town (freakin' torture).

I mean, I'm not that excited about the classes; it's more about the experiences I'll have. If I managed to have fun and feel great this past year, I know that the next four are going to be ridiculous. And by ridiculous, I mean freakin' awesome.

In other news, I'll be going on my first cruise EVER in exactly one week. OMG SUPER EXCITING!!!

Furthermore, it is Friday. There's GOT to be something to do tonight.

I'm home!

It's been almost a year since I moved out of my house for the first time. I'll be here for a month then it's off to sunny Gainesville, where the gators roam and bars close at 2 am.... sigh.

My last night in DC was fun, spent in great company, dancing and enjoying life.

What a year it's been. I go back and read the posts from a year ago, whIen I was nervous about moving away, nervous about this crazy program, etc. I've grown a lot since then, both spiritually and horizontally (damn good food in DC, what can I say?)

As anticipated, the year was stressful and fun, and I met so many awesome people. It was sad to say goodbye to most of them, but I know we will meet again someday. If not, there's always facebook, which keeps you informed on everyone's biznass.

I'm exhausted. I should rest up for my long, busy day. You know, all that lying down in the sand gets tiring after a while...

12 page paper, due tomorrow.

It's the last thing we need to do to get our masters degree.

Many of my classmates finished it during the first week of summer, and had the satisfaction of wiping their hands clean of it all.

Most people had some sort of panic attack earlier this week and got started and finished sometime this weekend.

Then there's me.

I haven't even written a page yet. It's due tomorrow. I don't know if "tomorrow" means 11:59 pm, but at the rate I'm going, that's when I'll be getting it turned in.

Whatever. I don't care.

(Ok fine, I do)

If I get an A on this paper, I will continue with this self-destructive procrastination behavior. (I'll also be a badass). In the interest of learning my lesson, I hope I get a big, fat B. Perhaps I won't make the deadline and get knocked down a grade. Ooooh. Exciting, no?

Not in the least bit.

Aaaaaaaaaand I'm still writing. Why? Because I don't want to write this paper. It's 9:30 pm. There's a big pot of coffee waiting for me in the kitchen.

It's my last Sunday in DC. I suppose it's fitting that this Sunday was spent in isolation, frustration, and cracked-outedness from energy drinks, since that's how I spent lots of Sundays this year. Monday exams suck.

In between phone calls, AIM conversations, and research, I found out some very yummy news: There are two Chipotles in Gainesville, and both are pretty close to UF. Ohhhhhh yeahhhhhh!

OK. Time to face reality. I am going to finish this paper, even if it means no sleep. You don't want to know me tomorrow, though.

I was almost killed last night...

And by "killed" I mean beaten up by a very sassy, very drunk guy (who I confused for a girl at first)

Check it:

So, I'm standing outside of Gazuza @ Dupont Circle, a chic, cheeky shisha bar/lounge. A group of young people passes by, and I am bumped into by a skinny, androgynous individual carrying a skateboard. I turn to look at the offender, who took the time to turn around, give me the dirtiest look, and stare me up and down as though I just said his momma was a two-bit ho. So all I'm thinking is, WTF? I was just standing here and this a-hole totally bumped into me and had the NERVE to stare me down like that. I didn't say anything to this cheeky bastard because I was in shock that he was giving me this attitude. So he turns away and walks and I turn to my friends mutter something along the lines of "Did you what she just did?!? Wow" At that point, I thought the offender was female, because said offender was walking with a bunch of very masculine females, and it is Dupont Circle (ie lots of gender blurring) ANYWAY, about 30 seconds pass and I look over and see the skateboard holding psycho walking toward me yelling "What did you say to me? Bitch! Don't stand there calling me a faggot!!!" It was then that I went from offended to absolutely confused/scared as hell. I don't remember exactly what I said to him/her/it, but it was something along the lines of "I didn't say ANYTHING!" I'm not gonna lie, I was giving him/her/it some attitude. There was some more all-up-in-my face action from him, then he walked away, then turned around and yelled: "BITCH, I GOT A JOB. I'M HIGH CLASS, BITCH!" Now, it was here where the confusion/fear transformed into utter amusement. Ah, the irony. I glanced over, and saw two security guards of some variety nearby, and therein grew some balls. "Yes, honey, I can see that you are SOOOO high class, acting like that. Look at ALLLLLL THAT CLASS!" (include hand gestures and very sarcastic voice).

And then, he charged at me.

I think I pooped in my pants a little.

Luckily, his friend held him back, my friend got in his face, all's well that ends well, no?

Ok, my bad for even bothering answering back or giving attitude. But it really provided for an entertaining 3 minutes of our evening.

Moral of the story: Drunk people act like idiots.

An anniversary, an old post, and insomnia...

So... it's been 8 days since I wrote the following post. I don't know why I didn't actually post it, but it was saved as a draft. Nothing extraordinary, but it *is* 8 am, and I *did* wake up early as hell (6 am) on account of I've got a headache the size of Montana. (((sidenote: I realize that severity of pain cannot normally be expressed in terms of square footage of a large State, but I'm cool enough to pull it off.))) Because of this throbbing in my cranium, I thought it would be easier to copy/paste the old stuff and add to it instead of actually rewriting the riveting Mariana life update, ya know? K here it goes:

6/20/2007

Oh blog world... I've been too busy for you lately.

So this is week 2 or 3 of my summer, and I don't have much to say for myself. I didn't write my paper yet (don't even have the research done), I haven't found a place to live for next year, and I haven't packed up my stuff for the move back home (July 7th is the official date). I've just been hanging out and hanging around, playing video games with my friends, going out, and cooking. I *am* having fun, though. And what's more important than having fun??? Nothing.
I want to spend my last two weeks here relaxing and enjoying wonderful DC, but it seems as though I'll spend them the way I spent the rest of the year: balancing working all day and partying whenever given the chance. Perhaps my month in Miami will be more relaxing... Then it's on to Gainesville/med school, where I can count on being incredibly busy for the next 4 years. I'm 2 parts excited, 1 part nervous about my new adventure. UF is a great school, I just hope my classmates, most of whom are Florida residents, don't suck.

Anyway, I have nothing of importance to blog about. My life is good but messy, fun but complicated. But it's nothing blog-worthy or bloggable. And so, I leave you with some pictures. Soon I'll write a tribute to the wonderful G-town SMP program. Or maybe I won't.
-The End

And here I sit, today, on this lovely 28th day of June. What has changed in the past week? My future roomate found an apartment, I packed and sent most of my stuff home, and I kind of, sort of started my paper. I'm still not doing anything remarkable with my life, and it feels strange and wonderful. Life is still good, less messy, still fun, and slightly more complicated. Sigh.

Sadly, my one year blog anniversary came and went. I made this blog one year and a couple of days ago with the intention of logging my wonderful adventures in Lebanon. Limited access to the internet and other factors (ie having cooler things to do) caused me to slack. For no good reason whatsoever, I decided to keep the blog and talk about my life and opinions. Poor you. And, for some odd reason, I just felt a wave of sleepiness. Time to try to get an extra hour or five of sleep before I begin a long day of scientific journal reading/paper writing. Don't be too jealous.

Helloooo world.

I'm back, beetches.

I caved in and bought a laptop yesterday. It cost $399 brand new at Best Buy.

Now, I know what you're thinking... What kind of POS laptop did this poor silly girl buy?

A very, very shitty one.

It's got 512 MB of RAM, which is fine and dandy normally, but apparently Windows Vista should be run with at least 1 GB.

Needless to say, the computer was going pretty slowly yesterday when I was having the usual 6 simultaneous conversations on AIM while also browsing Facebook.

Today it hasn't acted up really. I think it sensed my anger.

Anyway, enough about that... I would like to take this opportunity to admit that I have a problem. I am addicted to the internet. I have been so lost without it. I'm not the same person. But that's not why I got the laptop. I got it because we have a paper to write and I'll be DAMNED if you think I'm making the trek to school in 95 degree weather. Uphill. Both ways.

I have a lot to blog about. Nothing necessarily interesting, relevant, or important... but just stuff. The end of this program was intensely intense. I officially passed Neuroscience (miracle).

For now, I must feed my face. I'll be back sooner than you can say "Glossopharyngeal Nerve."

WOOOO HOOOO

Took my last exam yesterday.

Now it's time to get to all the stuff I've neglected because of school, including, but not limited to:

-Get laptop fixed
-Clean apartment
-exercise
-tan
-read a book
-brush my hair
-pack stuff
-learn more about where I will be spending the next 4 years of my life (omg omg omg, so exciting!)

For now, I have to run around and find a dress for our end-of-the-year banquet. It's going to be very classy. The classiest shit-show of the year.

I am thinking I will cry when I have to say good bye to some of the people here (especially after 4 hours of open bar).

Thank goodness for waterproof makeup.

My laptop, is FUCKED. There, I said it.

I have to send it back to HP and get a new hard drive, according to my computer nerd brother. Bah humbug. It's barely been 10 months! This is annoying and heartbreaking. I would readily give up my television before I give up my computer. The internet... what a glorious invention. How can I live without it?! Sigh...

In other news... I now officially know where I will be going to medical school. Yes, University of Florida, here I come!!!

I was accepted there on June 15, but I was still waiting on a decision from Georgetown. I would've probably still picked Florida over G-town, but you never know, you know?

The HOYAS did not find me worthy of their over-rated, over-priced, moldy school.

Ok, ok, I'm being a bitter betty. The truth is I probably didn't deserve an interview to begin with. Not because I suck, but because so many other people rock in my program. They put in the hours and got the grades. I also put in the hours, but not nearly as many. And it showed in my grades.

Also, I shouldn't be bitter because I was 80% sure I was going to Florida. The idea of facing such a big decision scared the crap out of me. I hate making decisions.

Enough about that... I'm excited to be a Gator. Yes, Gainesville will be boring, but considering the amount of alcohol I have consumed here in lovely D.C., I believe a calm place with bars that close early is precisely what I need for the next four, career shaping years of my life.

The binge drinking, my goodness! This program drives people to insanity, I swear.

But holy crap what a year it's been. I'm already sad that I have to say good bye to so many awesome people. Monday is our last exam, and then we have a banquet on Wednesday, and that's it. It all went by so quickly!

I am staying in DC till July and I'm hoping to party it up. But before that, I need a break from it all. A break from school, AND a break from partying. Honestly, I made up for 4 years of living at home for undergrad in the past month here.

My self destructive behavior, which happens to be common in physicians, should come to an end once I start med school. It *is* Gainesville, however... that means tons of crazy college parties, accompanied by amazing sports and lots of school spirit. Oh dear.

As it turns out, I have not really studied yet for this exam. This is preposterously terrible. But I can honestly say, for the first time all year, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN.

Wow that feels great.

It also feels great to curse on my blog, too. I tried to keep it PG just in case med schools somehow could find it. Yes, I'm that paranoid.

And now, it is with great pleasure that I say: Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Big ups to my little bro Danny... He won a medal for being the top math student, and he got a score of 5 out of 5 on his FCAT in math. FCAT = Florida's Comprehensive Assessment Test. It's awful. In high school we had weeks of "FCAT preparation" because apparently, having a high average score for the school was more important than learning.

At any rate, I'm proud of the kid. He's got so much potential! And even though he's in his awkward puberty stage, he is still adorable.

In other news, I held a last minute bake sale yesterday. The thought of it not being successful actually stressed me out (a lot). It's this ridiculous perfectionism that propels me to stress for no good reason. I guess it's kind of a weakness and a strength. I was worried that there wouldn't be enough/too much goods to sell, not enough people would buy the stuff, I wouldn't make much money, it would be time wasted, I didn't have enough help... the list goes on. Actually, it was a LOT of fun. I sold every last crumb. I had good help, and we banked! We made about 140 bucks!!! All proceeds are going toward the purchase of bed nets for children in Kenya; these nets help prevent malaria infection at the time it's most likely to occur (at night).

It feels nice to do stuff like that.

There is officially one week of classes left. Then an exam on June 4th, and a banquet on June 6th. It's friggin' sad, I'm not gonna lie.

Everyone's starting to find out where they will go to med school or IF they will go to med school next year. For some people, it's the most stressed out they've ever been in their lives. I feel terrible for them but these are the things that make us stronger.

I can't help but remember this time last year, I was on my way to Lebanon (or maybe I had just arrived), completely uncertain of what life had in store for me. I had been rejected from med school, and lots of other not so wonderful things were going on. I was completely uncertain about whether or not I really wanted medicine. I got accepted to this Georgetown program and couldn't help but wonder if it would be worth it or not. About $50,0000 later, I can say this has been an amazing year- completely worth it. I am sure I want to go to med school, and I'm happy. Last year there is no way I could've imagined that things would brighten up the way they did.

Speaking of bright, the sun is shining and I want to get outside! I should study or clean the apartment, but "should" is not a fun word, now is it?

The stars have been on the money lately. I read my horoscope almost every day from a couple of different places sometimes; Astrology.com sends me a combined one for Sun, Rising, and Moon signs, I usually grab the free newspaper (Washington Post: Express) and read it there, and every once in a while I hit up MSN or Yahoo, too. I also get a tarot card reading from MSN every now and then.

I guess to the non-astrologically inclined this may seem a bit much. And it probably is. But I don't take it (or myself) seriously, and I don't let things like this guide my life or anything stupid like that. I just use certain things I read to help me learn about myself (oh yeah, cheesy). Some days the horoscope will say "you are likely to be in a firey mood" and I'll totally try to be conscious of that throughout the day. Does it work? Sometimes. Then again, I'm always on fire.

Anywho, lately every horoscope has been pretty accurate. Frighteningly accurate, I'd say. It's just letting me know I am really connected with the universe (geez Louise, more cheesiness!).

I guess I can attribute it to the fact that I'm really content with life as a whole right now. I wish that others around me could be as fortunate, but I have faith that good things will come to them in their due time. This program is freaking crazy, and so many fellow students are struggling with the idea of not getting into medical school this year. It is tough to think that after all this hard work, there's still another year of working somewhere crappy, and reapplying, which involves a lot of time, money, and essays. Damn those essays.

It's certainly time to get ready for school. Ta ta.