*sigh*

I'm eating Ramen noodles. I cooked them in the same red enamel saucepan I used to cook them in when I was twelve. I spent ten minutes cuddling with a big, dumb, black dog. My mom and I spent the afternoon together, doing nothing. There is no comfort in the world like mom's house.

All is well.

Red-eye flight

Who the hell coined that term? It is an evil phrase which combines my two biggest fears: I'm terrified of red eyes, and I don't love flying either. (Coincidentally, I don't like its definition, flying at night, either.) Bah.

raging hormones. bored at work.

Silver is sexy. Let me explain: Keith Olbermann. Sean Connery. Drew Pinksy. Anderson Cooper. Hot.
Three geek-a-rific dads came in to my work today with their sick kids - dark messy hair and thick Buddy Holly framed glasses. *so adorable.* I'm glad nerds are finally having their day in the sun, but I've been a loyal fan for years.(Still, the best guys are intelligent, handsome Spanish classical guitarists with a wicked sense of humor and a strange, unfettered love for garden gnomes, Sim Golf and salad.)

Things I love about Topeka...

my Mom
Topeka High
my family
Erica, David, Regina, Jeremy and Hannah
Shunga Trail
seeing old friends
the train at Gage Park
El Cazador
going out to breakfast with Ricky
driving my mom's car, which is a lot nicer than mine
sleeping in my old bedroom
location-inspired memories that sneak up on me when I'm there


Things I don't love about Topeka...

Fred Phelps
sales tax
local businesses? not so much...
lack of nightlife
intelligent design vs. evolution
local government
humidity
USD 501
lack of cultural events
location-inspired memories that sneak up on me when I'm there

Do you dance, Mr. Darcy?

Margaret and I went to see Pride and Prejudice tonight at the Wilma. So beautiful. (Big, dreamy, contented sigh.)

crazy hippies

I just got home from taking Luis to the airport. The trip was so typical Missoula. Here's some highlights:

1. We got there at 4:50 for his 6:00 flight. Northwest's ticket counter wasn't open yet.They didn't show up until after 5:00.

2. Out of the 300 or so people at the airport this particular morning, I knew three of them. I've only lived here for two years - this is a small town.

3. After we got Luis checked in, we went in search of food for him. The (yes, the - as in the only) restaurant isn't open that early, but they had a window selling coffee and muffins. As Luis bought his chocolate muffin, a man's voice made the following announcement over the intercom:
"Would all passengers please remember to take their drug paraphernalia out of their checked luggage before bringing it to security."
The woman selling coffee didn't seem surprised by the announcement, but rather she just made a mellowed-out face and quipped, "But dude, that was my favorite pipe..."

Crazy.

So now I return home to a Luis-less apartment, and after finishing my oatmeal, I'm going back to bed. I'm always sad to see him go, but at least I get to sleep kitty-cornered. Or kattywhompus, Luis likes to make fun of me for saying. (That means diagonal, to those of you non-midwesterners.)

*Yawn*...Goodnight.

Strange things, and a conscience.

My anatomy final was this morning at 8:00. Along with a surge of relief, it brought with it a strange chain of events...

When my alarm goes off at 6:15, I'm jolted away from a dream about brains. In my dream I was holding an intact human brain, and the cerebellum started falling away in sections, dangling from the brainstem by its arbor vitae (which I don't think is anatomically possible, but there you have it). Awake and confused, I get out of bed and putter to the kitchen for a clementine and a glass of water, and a spot of review before heading off to the test.

I get to Urey just before the test starts, my stomach in knots. Dr. Westphal is known for giving ridiculously hard exams. I get my copy and look through the first few questions. They're different from those on earlier tests. I'm dumbstuck - these questions are so much better than we've had in the past! It's really almost like someone else wrote the exam. A flood of relief comes and I get to work.

After finishing the test I head over to the health sciences building to pick up my graded lab practical exam. I check the sheet hanging on the bulletin, and I'm floored to see a 94 next to my id number. I'm usually a little giddy and disbelieving when my grade is higher than I anticipated, but this time I'm sure they messed up my score. I go in and pick up my exam, and sure enough, I got an 84. I recount the points several times, and double check the posted scores. Definitely a typo. The only hard evidence of this is clutched in my now sweating hands. This extra ten points could all but ensure me a 'B' for the semester. This class has been unfairly graded all semester, and it's caused me endless hours of fretting and misery. And now, someone has inadvertently handed me a better grade. So what next?

I walk into the room, head shaking in mild disbelief. I hand my test to Dave and tell him my score is wrong on the spreadsheet. He asks what is posted, and I tell him. He looks at me like I'm sprouting antlers, and says that my honesty kills him.

Yeah, it kills me too.

If, at 1:30 this morning when I was feverishly cramming for this final, you had asked me what I would do in this exact senario, I would have responded (without missing a beat) "keep my mouth shut".

It's nice to find out you're a better person than you think you are.

Musings

It's unfortunate when one has tired of winter by early December, particularly when one lives in the Northwest, where the prospect of snow continuing into May is not unheard of.

I'm a dynamite whistler - Patience by Guns N' Roses came on the radio while I was driving home, which is an excellent song for showcasing my mad whistling skills. (even if I'm alone in the car...)

I don't like to kill bugs (particularly ones that crunch). I'm more from the "trap-them-with-a-cup-and-a-magazine-and-free-them-outdoors" school. I used to just roll up the magazine and take care of them the old fashioned way, but that was before I encountered the stink bug. This is the most revolting creature I've ever seen. Not only are they creepy looking, but they smell to high heaven when messed with. We have vaulted ceilings in our living room, and this fall I spotted one of these guys up near the rafters. We didn't know what they were at the time, and Luis and I made the mistake of using the vacuum attachment to suck it down from the wall. The apartment smelled for hours. Ew.
(The bug story started because I just had to kill a spider. He was too high on the wall to trap in a glass.)

There is nothing slipperier than snow that has been trodden down to slush, which has frozen into a panel of ice, upon which a light dusting of powdery snow has fallen. Walking across campus, I like to count the number of people who lose their footing and slide around on the way to class. My solution? I walk in the snow. My feet may get cold, but I remain vertical.

Blah.

I was rear-ended on my way home. No damage done, except for scaring the hell out of me. Amazing how fast things like that happen. I was sitting at a stoplight, changing the radio station, then I was rubbing my neck and wondering why all of the papers from my little dashboard space were scattered on me.
Blah.

Dreamweaver

I've had strange dreams regularly for most of my adult life. They tend to intensify during stressful or particularly emotional times, but they're always there. Here are a couple bits from dreams I had this past week...

Saturday night: The world was in an apocalyptic state. Luis and I were living among the other refugees in filthy tunnels underneath the remains of cities. The survivors were trying to resume as normal a life as possible, but everything was in shambles; life was disgustingly dark and murky. Martha Stewart was there, and she was trying to show us how to make a delightful dinner out of these bilious green and yellow braids of an algae-like growth clinging to the ceilings of the caves we inhabited.

Monday night: I was visiting some people who lived in a small decrepit house out in the wilderness. The house had clearly been nice at one time, but had gone to seed over the years. Dirt and large clods of earth were scattered on the linoleum, and the paint was peeling away from the walls to reveal rotted and crumbling plaster. A scratching sound came at the back door and the man went to open it, saying it was their cat wanting to be let in. A large orange cat leapt in through the door and the man began yelling that it wasn't their cat, it was a killer jackalope. I ran to the bathroom and tried to shut the door, but the large cat pushed its way through. I quickly caught the animal by the neck and began choking it, and the man yelled that he was going after his shotgun. As I was choking the cat I looked at him - he didn't look like a killer. He looked like a friendly creature. I didn't dare release my hold on him, though, lest he try to eat me. I could see the fear in his eyes as I choked the life out of him. Just then the man burst in with his shotgun, and he made me hold the animal as he shot it in the head.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Good day sunshine

I'm only at the computer long enough to eat my dinner (peanut butter and banana on whole wheat - yum!), and then I have an enormous amount of studying to do...

We finally got some sunshine today. It's been gray and cloudy for weeks, and the overall mood around town has felt subdued and a little gloomy. I celebrated the return of the sun by going for a run - with my nano! Luis bought me one for Christmas (He's so cute - he always wants me to open gifts the second he gets them home from the store) and gave it to me last Friday. White, 4GB, and now loaded with a little bit of everything. I love looking at the artists' names side-by-side; in my nano, Barry Manilow can peacefully coexist with Avenged Sevenfold, Motion City Soundtrack and The New York Philharmonic can cozy up together, and Hoobastank and James Taylor are friends. I love the nano, although the complaints of it scratching easily have me a little paranoid. (Luis has had one for a couple of months, and his is a little scuffed.) I'm like the crazy old lady with the clear vinyl slipcovers on all her furniture - my ipod is staying in the plastic wrapper until the tube I ordered for it arrives. (I trimmed openings for the earbud plug and the hold button.) Go ahead, laugh. I don't care. My nano understands.

Well, my sandwich is gone, so it's time to study. Ugh.

This one's for Emo --

I'm learning the cranial nerves this week, and here is my mnemonic device.

On Occasion Omar Takes Trips And Films Very Good Videos About Himself.

I Olfactory
II Optic
III Oculomotor
IV Trochlear
V Trigeminal
VI Abducent
VII Facial
VIII Vestibulocochlear
IX Glossopharyngeal
X Vagus
XI Accessory
XII Hypoglossal

He's a smart monkey. :)

Why I love today

It's only about 30 degrees outside, but it's beautiful and sunny - the mountains are all snow covered and sparkling.

I found $10 earlier.

My skinny jeans not only fit again, but my butt looks good in them.

The radio station I was listening to in the car busted out some old school Beastie Boys.

No classes on Friday.

Life is good.

WTF?

Today I went to the Market to get a Diet Pepsi - their CO2 was out.
I stopped by the gas station down the street from my apartment to get my caffene fix - their Diet Pepsi was out.
It's 29 degrees outside.
I have an anatomy test in t-minus 79 minutes, and it's pretty much going to kick my ass.

Yep, today definitely sucks.

Licking cheese.

Licking the cheese from the scalloped border of your fast-food nacho tray can only be justified in one of three ways:

1. You're a small child who doesn't know that it's DISGUSTING,
2. You're homeless and starving, and those remaining smudges of cheese may provide enough calories to get you through another cold night,
3. You have screaming PMS, for which the only cure is nacho cheese.

I fell under #3 this evening.
It wasn't pretty.

Typically, about three days before renewing my female vows each month, the Id-monster-Mandi comes out to pillage and plunder my somewhat organized life. She eats everything that isn't nailed down, she cries at *every* commercial (as opposed to just the really touching ones), and she quickly loses her patience with idiots and bad drivers. Id-Mandi splurges on cute little sequined tops, but then only wears sweatshirts. She is a sensitive creature, who wonders why you're looking at her "like that". Last time I checked in on her, she was sitting in front of my computer, wearing sweatpants and eating a bowl full of croutons. But come tomorrow morning, I'll be stuck with 3,000 extra calories making a home on my hips and a new charge on my credit card, and she'll be nowhere in sight.

Jesus, no wonder men don't understand women. We're insane.

A perfect autumn day

Today was one of those perfect days - it got up to nearly 70 (an anomaly for this time of year, for sure), with big puffy white clouds and lots of sunshine. I kicked leaves up as I walked to class, feeling a little like a ten-year-old again. I love autumn.

Sigh.

My weekend: a recap

Friday night - Worked.
Saturday - Worked all day (11 hours). Shopped with Sami. Came home and crawled into my jammies.
Sunday - Worked all day. Made a wicked good pot of chili for dinner. Ate some. Crawled into my jammies.

I worked all weekend. I'm tired. I vaguely remember a time in my life where I went school full time and juggled two or three part time jobs. How was that possible? Oh, wait. I never did any homework, and I was 19 years old. That's right.

I must drink 10 gallons of diet Pepsi a week. I'm done with the whole measuring my soda in ounces thing, that's like shoveling the driveway with a teaspoon. I'm consuming at the gallon level. It's bad.

The Griz lost to Eastern Washington this weekend - not a great game. I listened to it while I was at work. Listening to football on the radio always reminds me of being at my grandparent's house when I was little.

I used to always say that I went to football games for the hot dogs, but I've really started to enjoy watching the games. (Shhhh, don't tell anyone.) It took me eight years of marching band to understand what the hell was going on down on the field, but I finally get it. I have to say that football games are infinitely more interesting when you're not wearing a polyester uniform and white gloves with the fingertips cut off. Plus, it's nice to have a local team that gets such good support from the community.

But I still love the hot dogs.

Also...

I bought a green corduroy blazer today. I love green.

That is all. Goodnight.

Penitence

Every time I slack off on my studying and then pull a good grade on an exam, I repent and swear that I'll never do it again. Then I do it again.

I got an A on my Anatomy midterm. This came as a shock to me, because I left the lecture hall after the exam with that "bad grade" feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's not that I didn't study for the exam, but I didn't prepare nearly as much as I wanted to. And the test was just as frightening as everyone has warned me it would be. Dr. Westphal is INSANE. A better approach to her exams (as opposed to showing up to lecture three times a week and frantically scribbling notes) would be to memorize the textbook. She picks the teensiest little inconsequential facts from the text and makes them into test questions. Crazy-assed woman...

So now that I've gotten a good grade, I really am going to work on improving my study habits. No, I mean it this time.

I'll start first thing tomorrow...

Quick update

It's been a busy couple of weeks. I spent last week enduring a rapid-fire series of exams and quizzes, and have to sit one more tomorrow. Urgh. Then I'll spend the rest of the week fratically catching up on course reading.

Anatomy and physiology is the bane of my existence.

Played pool with friends on Saturday night. It was fun, although I spent a good deal of Sunday regretting my level of beer intake.

Thus endeth...

My week from hell has finally come to a close. I am rewarding myself for - well, I didn't ace every exam I sat this week, but I survived. That's worth something, right? I think it's worth a bubble bath, at the very least. And shopping. I definitely earned a shopping trip. Plus, it's cold, and I need more sweaters. So I really need to go shopping. And deserve to. So there. :)

While Sami and I are at the mall tomorrow, I'm going to have a peek into Hot Topic - I hear they have a shirt that says "I'm a sucker for guys in eyeliner." And, in fact, I am a sucker for guys in eyeliner. Maybe I'll buy one. (A shirt, not a guy wearing eyeliner.)

untitled late night thoughts

Some of my friends have blogs. Some write witty synopses of their lives, others bare their thoughts and souls with gut-wrenching honesty. I admire them, but I can't seem to do it. I read back through my small collection of entries, and what do I talk about? The goddamn weather. How can someone talk so much and say so little? Am I afraid of what I might say? Or am I afraid of what others might say? And, what if no one is even listening?

Bah. I'm going to bed.

In other news...

Missoula got a new radio station this summer, 103.3 the Trail. They call themselves "a station as unique as Missoula". I don't listen to any one station exclusively, but this one is great. I've randomly tuned in from time to time and heard Blues Traveler, Bob Dylan, Dave Matthews Band, Bob Marley, and Tower of Power. It's like they're reading my soul or something. It rocks.

Next week is shaping up to be relatively miserable. I have an anatomy quiz on Tuesday, a nutrition quiz on Wednesday, a psych exam and an anatomy exam on Thursday, and a european civ exam on Friday. Then the following Tuesday I have an anatomy lab practical exam. Grrr. Plus I have to work all weekend, and Saturday is our homecoming game, which I can't attend. But enough bitching, complaining about it won't make it better. :)

The forecast is calling for rain this whole next week, with highs in the 50's. It's perfect sweater weather, which I adore. I love autumn - crisp air and candycorns and cable-knit sweaters, and the smell of the changing leaves (unintentional alliteration, I swear!). I'm hoping to get a few good photos of the autumn leaves this year; Missoula is beautiful in the fall. Last year by the time it finally occured to me to take my camera out, we'd had some serious wind come through and whip away all of the pretty colors. Wish me luck for this year...

Go read a book...

September 24 - October 1 is National Banned Book Week. I suggest reading one, whether it be Of Mice and Men, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, or Captain Underpants. Take your pick. As for me, I'm going to reread Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. On her website, Judy Blume talks about censorship and her books. She hits the nail on the head:

I believe that censorship grows out of fear, and because fear is contagious, some parents are easily swayed. Book banning satisfies their need to feel in control of their children's lives. This fear is often disguised as moral outrage. They want to believe that if their children don't read about it, their children won't know about it. And if they don't know about it, it won't happen.

Censors don't want children exposed to ideas different from their own. If every individual with an agenda had his/her way, the shelves in the school library would be close to empty. I wish the censors could read the letters kids write.

But it's not just the books under fire now that worry me. It is the books that will never be written. The books that will never be read. And all due to the fear of censorship. As always, young readers will be the real losers.

I couldn't agree more...

For more information, check out http://www.ala.org/ala/oif/bannedbooksweek/bannedbooksweek.htm


Here's an interesting tidbit I got from their site:
2004 Most Challenged Authors
1. Phyllis Reynolds Naylor, author of the Alice series
2. Robert Cormier, author of The Chocolate War and We All Fall Down
3. Judy Blume, author of Blubber, Forever, and Deenie
4. Toni Morrison, author of The Bluest Eye, Beloved and Song of Solomon
5. Chris Lynch, author of Extreme Elvin and Iceman
6. Barbara Park, author of the Junie P. Jones series
7. Gary Paulsen, author of Nightjohn and The Beet Fields: Memories of a Sixteenth Summer
8. Dav Pilkey, author of the Captain Underpants series
9. Maurice Sendak, author of In the Night Kitchen
10. Sonya Sones, author of What My Mother Doesn’t Know

Dem dry bones...

Why are there so flippin' many bones in my head? Twenty-two, each with it's own perfectly forgettable name, all of which I must know within a week. Oh, but I wish that were all. No, no... each bone has it's own little map of fossa, foramen, crests, and processes to be memorized along with them. This week we're learning all of the histology of osseous (bone) tissue, the vertebral column, and the bony thorax. Oh, and the facial/cranial bones. I miss the days where the "back bone connected to the neck bone, the neck bone connected to the head bone..."

My time spent in anatomy is divided between furiously scribbling notes and fighting back the urge to cry.

On to stuff that doesn't make me want to hurl myself in front of traffic...

The teller at my bank today told me I looked really good in green. That was really nice of her to say, and I suppose it's a good thing, considering like, 35% of my tops are green. I've got a lot of orange too, but I don't know what that's all about. The orange wasn't intentional. I've been earnestly desiring a worn, faded navy blue top, but I haven't found one I like anywhere. Abercrombie is probably the place to go.

I have to go read more history. It's interesting stuff - turns out the classical Greeks were pretty naughty...

Ahh.

Finally, a little time to relax. It's been a crazy week, which culminated in an 11 hour shift at work today. I got off at 7:00, came straight home and climbed into my fleece frog-print jammies. Do I have my priorities in order, or what?

Television season has commenced, which is unfortunate, given my workload for this semester. Somehow I have to find time to squeeze Scrubs, Nip/Tuck, Law and Order: SVU, and The Biggest Loser into my schedule. Oh, and I'm particularly interested in My Name is Earl, a new show premiering on NBC. (I dig Jason Lee.) That sounds like a lot of time parked on the couch, but really, it's only 3 1/2 hours a week. Some people watch that much a day. Although I have to admit, I was guilty of that this summer -- I watched FUSE for hours on end. It was an integral part of my "summer bum" plan... but I've slowly been weaning myself off it.

Luis is out of town all this week, performing in a concert series around the Seattle area. Eating Chipotle without me, undoubtedly. :)

There's been an influx of patients coming into my work recently, all with the same complaint; "I woke up this morning and didn't feel good. I don't have time to be sick right now, so I need to see the doctor." Are you KIDDING me? I don't know any doctors who can snap their fingers and make a viral infection (read: a cold) go away. I think this says a lot about the nature of our society, but more about that later...

I still have to read about the Romans for my European Civ class, but I think perhaps a bubble bath is in order first. Or better still, maybe I'll combine the two. That could be nice, although I'm not sure about the logistics of it.

(big giant textbook + water + sleepy Mandi = big soggy textbook = no money at book buyback time.)

On second thought, maybe that's not such a great idea... Oh well.

Goodnight!

Another blog.

So today I set up yet another blog site: http://www.myspace.com/mandapanda191I haven't said anything interesting there either. :) Perhaps one day I'll have something insightful or otherwise useful to contribute to the noise that is the internet, but for now this will have to do.