Thursday. 3.14.13 1:26 am
They supplied dull scalpels for us to perform the dissection of our rats' scrotums. "It's like cutting steak," my partner decided to tell me. He was right. I turned away and tried not to be too freaked out by the way he had to use the scalpel. "Maybe I shouldn't be a surgeon," he commented casually, still sawing through the rat's bits.
I didn't say anything, because he was then distracted by the eavesdropping group behind us. But he should definitely try to be a surgeon. Even if, a few minutes later, he accidentally cut off our rat's penis with a pair of straight surgical scissors.
Small details. Literally. "I think that's it, but I'm not a rat dick specialist," he told the other group, when they ventured to ask. Rat penes aren't typically exposed--they retract into the rat when not...in use. But the scrotum--man, a rat scrotum is enormous. And the uterus really freaks me out, too.
"I'd be worried if you were," I told him, after a moment of appreciation for the words that had just come out of his mouth. Rat dick specialist. I hope that exists. Beautiful band name.
It was a short lab, because the film we were instructed to watch is sort of like a take-home quiz. It's a nice break from the regular quizzes--although I do very much like when my lab partner forgets there's a quiz, because apparently he whispers "shit" through the whole thing but doesn't even consider cheating (which is nice, since last semester some girl asked for an answer ON THE PRACTICAL (40% of our grade, wtf how dare you), from me, and I said, "NOPE" in my normal voice, got up, and walked away from her in an otherwise silent room), which makes me laugh because it's so sad, and also a perfect sentiment, when asked to freaking draw and diagram a heart from memory.
Anyway, the film wasn't bad. I watched it in the tub. It indeed showed an actual birth. It did not make me rethink my stance on having children (though I suppose it didn't really reinforce it, either??). I was really surprised at how tiny the baby was, and how watching the birth didn't repulse me.
...But um my lab partner and I high-fived once we'd finished cleaning up or station, then turned and walked out together like badasses. And it was cool. Because the train didn't stop there NOPE. I mentioned that I hadn't really had any actual biology classes, before college (because our biology teacher left the room so much, in ninth grade, that we actually learned NOTHING except what it feels like to get yelled at all the time), and he spent the elevator ride down, trying to sort that out with himself and learning that not having IB at his school probably saved him. Walking through the lobby, I told him that I did, at least, learn to spell baccalaureate, and he tried to spell it. And almost succeeded. Outside, we had to go in opposite directions, but neither of us would shut up, so we both walked backwards until we were both satisfied with the conversation.
And then I smiled the whole way home because I ADORE SCIENCE MAJORS. Every business/accounting/economics major I've ever met has treated me badly, every psych major I've ever met has been somehow unattainable, romantically...? And I always end up developing the crushes on the science majors. And look back a ways--midday is doing physics (right? still? yes?), Logan (my first (and, so far, last) semi-long-term boyfriend) was a biochemistry major working towards a medical degree--not to mention all the dates in college that somehow KEEP ENDING UP BIOLOGY MAJORS (I feel like I've converted some of them), and, of course, a monster in the recesses of my mind, who is most certainly destined for a medical career.
And now this fantastic specimen comes along and makes me blush so hard that my goggles fog up.
Sunday. 3.10.13 3:24 am
I got to see two of my favorite men, tonight, and it was awesome. On my drive back down to college, my friend who just transferred A THOUSAND MILES AWAY called and asked what I was doing and where I was, because HE WAS VISITING OUR CAMPUS AAAHHH. I drove 100 miles per hour (my car likes that, anyway, I think) the whole rest of the way down, showered at the speed of light, and was over there in no time. I was so glad to see them both. Just...ahhh. After spending the whole week holed up at my parents' houses, waiting for plans that never came through, it was such a relief to be around people who just kind of...see me. You probably know what sort of feeling I'm talking about. Like taking one big, deep breath and exhaling right away.
I'm still not sure about one of them--whether we've been dating or not (while driving, tonight, I realized this, and told myself, "YOU REALLY NEED TO ASK ABOUT THAT, HOLY COW"). We've been out twice, alone, and he's taken care of the costs twice. But then, like I said in my 100 fact challenge, lots of friends just randomly do that for me. I've learned to do the same.
Loving my friends came up like that vomit you thought was just an innocent burp. I'm constantly surprised, after coming home on nights like tonight and thinking to myself, "I really do love these people."
I miss my talks with the monster. People bring him up, and I feel myself start to shut down, emotionally, because maybe I'm not ready to deal with all of it. Or maybe I am dealing with it, but I just want to keep it to myself. Being private with these things isn't bad, I don't think. My best friend knows all about the initial shock, and sadness, and utter fury (because that man is beyond thoughtless and full of himself, sometimes) that came with...well, January as a whole. And that's as much as I really want to flesh these things out with anyone, you know? But I miss talking to him. As difficult as it was, sometimes...there were moments that made it worth all the trouble. Just after sunrise, one morning, when he fell asleep on my legs while I talked about how bizarre the rapid changes in my family life were--I think about that, when I think about what I miss. That's what I miss. Just being comfortable and accepted. Being young with him. I wish I could have that back. It's something I don't have with my other friends, probably due to the changes I've been through, in the past couple of years.
These things take time to repair.
Thursday. 2.28.13 9:28 pm
81. The first college roommate I ever had started a dorm-based business with me. She sewed (and sometimes glued when people really wanted the glue) in tracks, I bleached/colored.
82. I hated my job working for an older couple in their childrenís toys and miscellany shop. Their business was struggling, and that made them mean, which made their business struggle even more. It was very frustrating and I always felt bad. This was my first job in my college town.
83. My first job ever started out as an unpaid internship where my mumís friend agreed to teach me how to use a cash register, create displays, add SKUs to a systemóbasically, how to run a shop properly. They hired me after less than a week and I worked there for the nine months I was in town between universities. I left on great terms and they give me wonderful references to this day.
84. My most recent job was at a bed and breakfast, and I still help out all the time, even though I resigned in October. They pay me to clean and cook, which helped me build skills in both.
85. I honestly donít think I would have been functional in college without that job. I was not good at living on my own, till then.
86. I work as an intern for the school and have been at the job for a year, now (I just got rehired for the 2013-2014 work year). Itís the most rewarding job Iíve ever had.
87. I chose an interdisciplinary minor because I hate devoting myself to one subject. It basically means nothing if you donít go to a Latin American culture with the Peace Corps, or something. If you DO, itís a great minor.
88. My first kiss was with MIDDAYMOON
89. I wrote an essay about it for a scholarship.
89.5. It didnít win. :[
89.9. But it should have, because the winners sucked.
89.95. SO MAYBE IíM GLAD IT DIDNíT WIN.
90. I can recognize a die-hard Whovian just by eavesdropping on their everyday conversations.
91. My immune system is fantastic.
92. When someone makes me mad, Iíll yell at an imaginary passenger about it the whole time Iím driving.
93. Sometimes I still crave horseback riding on my old riding day.
94. I donít look good in most hats.
95. And I canít type the word twenty correctly on the first try without really concentrating.
96. I really enjoy plane rides.
97. We had a dog named Teddy from my brotherís third birthday until I was ten. We had to put him down when my brother was away at college and Iím not really sure how they broke it to him.
98. Skittles, Lifesaver gummies, Swedish Fish, and Twizzlers are my candy weaknesses.
99. Even low-sedative medications put me straight to sleep. I slept 14 hours on one FOURTH of a low-sedative anxiety pill. Doctors wonít believe me.
100. I didnít miss a single day of the challenge.
questions which turned into a body image rant?
Wednesday. 2.27.13 3:10 pm
61. I have terrible circulation! My skin is almost always ice cold.
62. People who self-diagnose mental illnesses particularly bother me. Many illnesses have very common symptoms, and self-diagnosis can be problematic for actual, licensed psychiatrists, because you can very easily twist your experiences to match symptoms, and that can lead to some stuff like taking anti-depressants for bipolar disorder, which, by the way? Makes your bipolar disorder symptoms worse. -throws down mic-
63. I'm seriously considering stuffing my coat pockets with biodegradable confetti so I can sass bad drivers with flare. People are constantly almost hitting me when I have pedestrian right of way. Nothing says "Watch the road, jackass" like a psychotic smile and confetti.
64. Speaking of which. When people actually make me mad, I laugh like a serial killer.
65. I generally hate everything about having my nails polished, but sometimes I find an old color in my stuff and try it out...only to regret it, five seconds later, when something smudges.
66. This is why I have press-on nails for special events. I just glue those suckers to my actual hot mess nails, and they look good the whole night.
67. I've been wearing the same watch for four years...I don't take it off when I shower and usually not when I sleep. It stays on in the ocean, in the tub, while swimming laps, and during most nice dinners, although I draw the line at balls and formals.
68. I've erased about thirty potential facts about myself because they feel too emotionally-indulgent.
69. I feel like housekeeping has ruined my environmental consciousness.
70. I have a collection of quotes from my mother which I've turned into poems. They're all from her conversations with our pets. Behold:
before I kill both of you
Not just one
with my bare hands
71. I have too much spare time.
72. OH AND I JUST APPLIED FOR AN OFFICER POSITION WITH THE PSYCH CLUB, I have so much time! Hopefully I get it. I'm unusually qualified.
73. At some point in my life, someone told me that graphic ts are for teenagers, and I haven't worn one since, outside of band ts. I have no idea why that stuck.
74. Sometimes I go to the office where I work just to eat and play on the computer.
75. I have this school-approved disability thing for my anxiety (because yes, it's that bad, sometimes), and they gave me a pdf that I can print and give to my professors so they know I might sometimes need a different testing site, etc. etc...problem is, I get anxiety about giving the pdf to my professors so AWESOME JOB CAMPUS for actually not helping people with anxiety disorders at all.
76. My brother and I don't have a very strong relationship, but I've been trying, lately, because I know I'm the closest to him, out of all our family members, and that just sucks.
77. I don't know much about this aspect of my heritage, but my family is part Native American. I DON'T IDENTIFY AS NATIVE AMERICAN. I don't reject my culture or anything like that, but I also don't feel like my family participates enough in the community to make that, personally, okay. I have a special UV sensitivity because of it, but that's about as far as my awareness of the culture goes. I identify as Caucasian.
78. It sincerely bothers me (in a fleeting way) when people don't remember what color my eyes are.
79. When people tell me they've lost weight, I congratulate them...and always make sure to ask if their bodies feel healthier. Sometimes that small change in focus can make someone realize the true power of a healthy diet. There are plenty on bad ways to lose weight, and you won't ever feel good. Just like there are plenty of heavier people who feel amazing.
80. I used to hate my body, but now I'm absolutely in love with it. I celebrate regularly.
80.5. People who say, "I never understood why people don't just love the skin they're in" can go DIRECTLY to hell, do not pass Go, do not collect any money, assbutts. Also anything about thigh gaps or collarbones. Or tummy pooches (WELCOME TO HAVING A UTERUS, COME ON).
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