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!