Plato believed that we lived in a world of
images, three-dimensional shadows of the true one. What we see with our eyes is nothing more than a cheap imitation of its true state.
example, the chair we see before our eyes is nothing more than a shabby image of the true chair that exists. We carry on everyday with
flawed perceptions of the true ideal form.
Life After College:
Year 3 - In Transit
[Sunday, October 23, 2005]
My exam is next Friday, and it's cumulative, and I've been logging 16+ hours per day in the library. Needless to say, I'm a little freaked out. I'm sitting in my cubicle, trying to figure out how I'm going to squeeze in all the information in the time I have left, when I suddenly have the urge to make out with someone. How weird is that! And all I can do is continue staring at my paper, try to concentrate on the peritoneal cavity lecture, and ignore the crazy ideas running through my blood. This is awful. Is this what it's like to be a boy? But maybe this means my hormones are back on track and I can count on having a regular period again.
Posted by ink |
[Thursday, October 20, 2005]
Life is never like the movies.
And yet somehow, every morning, I have a strange feeling of being watched. Perhaps because God likes to peep in in the wee hours of the day, check up on his children, make sure they're tucked in properly, see if they're being bad. Perhaps Zach Braff was onto something in Garden State when he talked about this generation of 20-somethings being spiritually bereft. It's more than just the quarter life crisis. After all, I've supposedly overcome that now that I've settled into a career after 3 years of heave-ho. My parents swear they aged decades in that time and blame their high blood pressure on me. But still - there are mornings when I wake up and stare at the ceiling and wonder, "What the hell am I doing here?" Here, of course, being a rhetorical question. It'd be a lot more concerning if I woke up somewhere physically misplaced.
Today was one of those mornings. Like every Thursday morning, I woke up at 6:45 AM to the sound of the garbage trucks outside my window. The upside of having a street-facing room is the great sunlight I get in the afternoon. The downside is all the noise. I had all these ideas about street-facing rooms. Boys throwing rocks at the window to wake me up at night to go for a walk. Leaning out the window to laugh and joke with friends on the street below. Instead, I get garbage men every Thursday morning. And the garbage men are entirely too jovial for that time of morning. Cracking jokes, talking about their wives, their weekends. I woke up just enough to open up the top drawer of my bedside table, reach past the body lotion, past the box of hair-things (why is there never a more formal word for hair accessories besides 'hair things'?), past the box of condoms I received last year from my old newly-turned-lesbian roommate because she no longer had a need for them (I had to throw half of them away a few weeks ago because they had expired. How pathetic is that), to my ear plugs. I stuffed them into my ears before collapsing back into slumber, until I was woken up jarringly by the realization that it was 8 AM and I was late.
So starts another day. I've been sleeping hard lately. So hard that when I wake up, my body is sore and my muscles ache. It's grey outside, and my brain is so stuffed with anatomy trivia that I'm forgetting the names of professors I've been speaking regularly to for 3 months. And I just decided that I'm going to give my box of condoms to my current roommate. Based on the current situation, I think she's more likely to get use out of them than I am.
Posted by ink |
[Sunday, October 16, 2005]
My mom took me to Banana Republic today to go shopping. Partly because it's her favorite store, partly because it's one of the few stores whose pants I can actually wear, and mostly because it's the only store where I'll allow her to buy me things. It's a nice compromise. If she had her way, my entire wardrobe would be from Ann Taylor and Talbots. I realized today that my parents are extraordinarily nice to me. Not only did she buy me clothes that weren't on sale, but when we got home, she also offered me all these soaps and lotions she'd purchased. I wasn't about to take toiletries that she'd bought for herself. It suddenly occurred to me today that my parents are really nice to me. I only see these people once a month (maybe), and everytime I see them - they shower me with gifts. All I do is call them once a week on Sunday. It seems really bizarre. And it's kinda cool at the same time. These people must really like me! For what reason - I don't know. It's probably something I won't really understand until I have children of my own. But right now, I sort of like it.
I'm not sure if this is a recent development or not. I probably started noticing because a) I've grown up a lot b) I don't come home so often anymore and c) I don't fight with them everytime I see them.
Posted by ink |
[Friday, October 14, 2005]
Weezer/Foo Fighters concert.
I've loved Weezer for a long time, but I've been wondering if maybe I'm outgrowing them. I identified with the songs when I was a teenager, but at the age of 25, I don't know how many more songs I can listen to about Rivers being too shy to talk to girls. You're a rock star, give me a break! How many more years is this going to go on? I like my bands to grow with me, and at this point, I feel like I've moved on ahead while Weezer is still singing about teenage angst issues. Rivers is in his late 20's now. Their last album only served to confirm my suspicions. But, I bought a ticket to the Weezer/Foo Fighters concert anyways, partly because I want to support them, partly because I get two bands for the price of one, but mostly because I wanted to give Weezer one more chance - just in case. And they (almost) redeemed themselves in my eyes. Last night breathed new life into my Weezer love. Unlike their New York concert earlier this year (which quite frankly, I was a bit disappointed in), Weezer actually spoke to the audience! "Hey Philly!!!" I was thrilled. Then Rivers came out into the crowd and played an acoustic version of Island In The Sun, and I was again - thrilled. The best was when they asked the audience who knew how to play acoustic guitar, and then pulled up a boy to play the Sweater Song along with them. That must've been the highlight of that boy's life. He was strumming away and rocking with Weezer. He'll probably never be that cool ever again. It was awesome. I find concerts to be a little odd these days, since they seem to be filled with kids. The girls in front of us went crazy when My Name is Jonas came on, and all I could think about was how they were probably 6 when the album first came out. I was 14. And I was so proud of Rivers for overcoming that stage shyness and cutting loose a bit. It was also nice that they sang the songs a little differently than they are on the CD. And the farewell when they all held hands and bowed together was a nice touch of class.
Whereas I discovered that I was a bigger fan of Weezer than I originally thought, I also discovered that I'm not as big a fan of Foo Fighters as I originally thought. I never realized how different the two bands are until they came on back to back. Foo Fighters sounded a little too polished for me, too commercial. That and - I just don't think I'm really into screaming. My favorite part was when Dave Grohl got on drums and Taylor Hawkins played lead guitar and sang. Hawkins actually has quite a nice voice. And Grohl has a pretty nice voice too (as he demonstrated on an acoustic version of Everlong) when he's not screaming. It seemed all very stereotypically rock-ish.
What I realized was that Foo Fighters just isn't my thing. In comparison, Weezer - though with arguably a smaller fan base, had a performance that felt more honest and naked.
Or maybe at the end of the day, I'm still a teenager at heart with a little bit of angst. I'm just not into wondering if someone else is getting the best of you, or whether you're my hero. I'm still worrying about my sweater and trying to find my proverbial garage.
Posted by ink |
[Thursday, October 06, 2005]
The danger of studying alone.
They should have an FDA warning on Studying Alone. "Could put you at risk of urinary tract infections or kidney disease or a burst bladder. Or an embarassing incontinence problem." I'm at Starbucks, and their caffeine has worked all too well on me. I have to pee. But I'm afraid of leaving my laptop behind while I run to the bathroom. At the same time, I don't want to bring my laptop to the bathroom either because there's no where to set it down, and it somehow seems dirty to bring your laptop there. Like bringing your drink with you. Like most of my minor crises, I turned to AOL instant messenger for some instant-advice.
SUddin (3:33:27 PM): ill watch it SUddin (3:33:28 PM): from here SUddin (3:33:35 PM): ill send threatening IMs Ink (3:34:10 PM): ... SUddin (3:34:52 PM): i told u, im watching it! SUddin (3:36:55 PM): hurry up and go. Ink (3:37:01 PM): I don't know about this... SUddin (3:37:17 PM): psssssssssssssssssssssssssssss SUddin (3:37:19 PM): niagra falls
Posted by ink |
Starbucks, your neighborhood coffee shop?
There are now officially two Starbucks within a 4 block radius of my apartment. And I frequent the one about 1 block away, for no other reason than the barista John who works there, and calls out "Hey Ink! How's it going?" everytime I walk in. Which admittedly, isn't really all that often. Are they changing their staff training? Or is it this particular Starbucks that just happens to have the friendliest baristas around?
Now that it's turning to fall, I'm on a hunt for new boots. I have a slight boot fetish that I like to indulge every winter.
On a different note - did anyone notice the new reverse-stalking feature on Friendster? Now, you can see who has viewed your profile in the last week. Apparently, I seem to attract guys in the age range of 19-22, who are in Texas and California, and are unemployed. Friendster obviously isn't working for me.
Posted by ink |
[Monday, October 03, 2005]
Another year, yesterday.
On the morning of my 25th yesterday, I woke up with a slight hangover, just like I did for the past few birthdays since I was 19. The first thought I had when I turned over and felt a slight headache was "This is getting old." And it is. And I am.
I was reminded of it today when I got to class, and people who didn't make it to the party were giving me birthday wishes. I'm surprised at the number of people who brought me a card or a gift today instead. I have good classmates. Good classmates who kept making comments like "How did you feel on Sunday morning?" ... I actually felt pretty okay. And "you were really funny that night." Strange, I don't remember being funny, and I feel like I remember most of the night. I'm getting the feeling that maybe I drank more than I thought.
Our apartment in the morning was in surprisingly good shape. It didn't take that long to clean-up, and we got lots of great compliments on the decor and the candles. I had a good enough time that I can't wait till Christmas. I want to have a little holiday party with hot cocoa/peppermint schnapps, little reindeer candy canes, and Santa hats.
Posted by ink |
[Saturday, October 01, 2005]
I never thought I'd be putting lotion on anyone else's legs but my own. But I was proven wrong today, when I found myself lathering lotion onto Choco's legs. Choco is a homeless diabetic who comes into the Prevention Point clinic for regular health care. Prevention Point is a needle exchange program that also provides medical care for users. As a diabetic, Choco doesn't have good sensation in his feet. This has led to him scalding himself when he tried to wash his feet, and coming in sometimes with nails in the bottom of his foot because he couldn't tell he'd hurt himself. He hadn't taken his shoes and socks off in a few weeks, because he couldn't reach down that far due to weight gain. Of course, being a first year med student and therefore the lowest peon on the totem pole, he became my patient. I have never been so thankful for my cold and stuffy sinuses when his socks came off. Just based on how they looked, I couldn't imagine they'd smell any better. As I washed his feet, I started to see why the washing of feet was considered a sign of respect in Biblical times. Because it's not that pleasant. He had brought a whole bag of lotions that need to go on his feet and lower legs in a certain order, including a fungicide that had to be placed on his toenails and between his toes. So I snapped on the gloves and tried to act like I did this everyday, as he told me stories of how he had a bowel movement while going up the stairs, and the poo trickled down to his feet but he couldn't get down there to wipe it off. Welcome to the un-glamorous side of medicine.
In the van on the way back to school, the other med student assigned to today told me excitedly that she got to do an anti-psychotic injection. I told her I had her beat, but remained mum on exactly what I did today. I don't know if I can practice community medicine. Though I now have much more respect for those who do. Especially when I found out that Choco is a weekly patient at the clinic, which means I get to do this every week from now on! (Joy).
big change, the choices we make
in life, gut instincts, on-the-whim
hairpin turns, the search for truth, the desire to be happy, the journey to finding out what
makes us happy.
being young and clueless, hoping
that we're not blindly leading ourselves to our own demise with every
tentative step we take, the pitfalls of dating, the trials
and travails of being a young woman in the post-feminist era.