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
[Friday, March 10, 2006]
70 degrees and sunny.
It is a beautiful day outside. And I knew it as soon as I stepped out the door this morning at 8:30 AM. It was completely obvious to me, and to anyone who passed me on the street this morning, that I should've checked the weather before leaving the house. I sweated my way to my exam wearing a fleece, a wool jacket, mittens (which hung out of my coat pockets), and carrying on the side of my backpack... an umbrella. Meanwhile, girls in little skirts pranced by and tossed their hair at me.
I tried to toss as well, but it doesn't work as well with short hair.
Posted by ink |
[Thursday, March 09, 2006]
Gum is all that keeps me going on pre-exam weeks.
I've adopted it as a substitute for constant snacking. To date, I've consumed almost a pack a day. Sort of like a cigarette habit. My gum of choice is Trident Splash - Peppermint Vanilla. Dentyne Ice's Vanilla Chill (an obvious avoidance of Vanilla Ice) is what I opt for when Trident Splash isn't available. Though my jaw muscles are sometimes sore at the end of the day, I look on in delight as the steady growth of my stomach has slowed and come to a standstill. Next - shrinkage of said stomach! I have a slight fear of ending up with a manly jaw as a result of all the chewing, but I tell myself that all those blondes at the beach have chiseled faces. It must be the gum. So in my backpack, outside of the usual books and laptop, there's a variety of other things that invade pre-exam. I have a minimum of 2 packs of gum at any point in time, my birth control pills, my hive cream (stress hives must be taken care of on the spot), dry roasted edamame (for those salty cravings), gummy candy (for those sweet cravings), highlighters galore, my ipod, hand cream, my nalgene, and extra tea bags.
As of now, I continue chewing my gum and limit my desserts to things like Jello, gummy bears, and the occasional Peppermint Patty. I've already broken Lent (no eating after dinner), but I decided that during pre-exam weeks, Lent doesn't count.
Posted by ink |
[Wednesday, March 08, 2006]
Good To Knows
Hemorrhage: significant loss of blood through uncontrolled bleeding
When you're hemorrhaging, blood is re-portioned so flow to your heart and head aren't affected. This means that your intestines, kidneys, liver, etc. are starved. So even if you recover from hemorrhagic shock, you still have a good chance of biting the dust. If the rest of your innards were starved for too long, your brain will still be in one piece so you can be fully aware and conscious when your kidneys fail a few days later and you die from multiple organ failure.
People who are in shock due to hemorrhaging may have pale, cold skin. Warming the skin of such patients improves their appearance considerably, much to the satisfaction of the well-meaning individual administering first-aid. However, you're inactivating the body's natural compensatory reaction to keep the blood for vital organs like the heart and brain. Good Samaritans - bless their little socks.
When you lose enough blood, your nervous system has kicked to maximum levels to maintain blood pressure in your body (blood vessel constriction, increased heart rate, etc.). When your blood loss gets so severe that your brain is starting to feel the effects, the brain screams for help, and your nervous system reaches deep down inside and manages to jump into gear, firing at an amazing 40 TIMES the physiological maximum rate in a last ditch effort to save your brain. After a few minutes of this futile effort, the brain gives up and starts releasing opioids into your body and depressing the centers in your brainstem that run your body. It is now safe to turn off your computer.
Posted by ink |
[Tuesday, March 07, 2006]
Fire Engine Red.
Fire Engine is the new hottie of the first year class. I'm not sure if he's aware of it, but I hope he never finds out. Because I saw him first. A few weeks ago at an Admissions Committee interview where we were both interviewing incoming students. He's a second year. I'm sort of upset that he started doing Help sessions for us, because now all the first year girls know who he is. And I liked it better when I was the only one who knew him. There are emails circling around about who wants to have his babies, but I stay above it all and tell myself, "It's okay Ink. I'm sure he likes you best. ...Even though you only spoke to him once, 6 weeks ago." Likewise, I'm sure he would ignore the Pimple of Doom I'm currently growing on my face.
I made myself bleed in the library today. But it wasn't the Pimple of Doom. It was a different one. I named that one "Fernando". He's a stubborn little mofo. So I destroyed him. Death to pimples.
One does eventually get to an age where growing pimples starts to feel utterly inappropriate.
Posted by ink |
[Friday, March 03, 2006]
And nobody knows it but me.
I'm secretly afraid that I'm going to be a bad doctor. I live in perpetual fear that I'll be discovered any day now, as the mistake the admissions committee made. On a day to day academic basis, I walk around confidently, because my exam scores tell me I'll be okay. But everytime we have a Clinical Session, my palms begin to sweat. Today, we did the heart. So, my classmates and I donned our white coats and went to the Clinical Skills Center to meet our patients. And as I bent over the 2 year old and placed my stethoscope under his shirt, I moved it around the positions as I had learned to in lecture: Apartment M (A-P-T-M, for Atrial valve, Pulmonary valve, Tricuspid valve, and Mitral valve). I listened closely for the lub-dub of the heart sounds, the systolic whoosh, and the split-beat when the child inhales. All the things that class had taught me I should hear. I listened for the faster heartbeat that children have. And I nodded and said "Good. Uh huh. You're doing great," I said, as all that came through my stethoscope was shirt and diaper rustling. "Thanks kiddo," I said with a smile and high-fived the kid. He laughed at me. And I knew why. He could see right through me. I'm going to be a bad doctor. I couldn't hear anything. I thought maybe it was my stethoscope. Was it all the concerts I had gone to? Was my hearing shot? Is there a volume knob on this thing? Meanwhile, I enthusiastically agreed with my classmates, "Yeah, wasn't that the coolest thing ever?" When I got home, I secretly tried my stethoscope on myself. Relievingly - yes, I'm alive and have a pulse. Now I just have to find other people to practice on. Which is a bit nerve-wracking, because males are easier since I won't have to navigate around a breast to hear heart sounds. How do you say to a guy "Do you mind taking your shirt off so I can listen to your chest?" and have them actually take you seriously?
Posted by ink |
[Thursday, March 02, 2006]
Motorcycle and I broke up a few days ago. I'd been thinking about it for a while, and had set up a Break Up Schedule. I decided that this past weekend wasn't good, because the formal was on Friday and we were going as dates. This weekend wasn't good, because it's pre-exam weekend (yes, I'm pre-exam again). So Option #1 was after our exam. Option #2 was riding it out for a June break-up. Since we're both travelling to different countries this summer, it would be a natural break anyways and might make it easier. Neither option happened, since Motorcycle slid in under the finish line for Option #0. The option in which he's obnoxious and drunk at our formal, I slap him, he comes over the next morning to apologize, and then before I can draw breath to say anything, he blurts out, "Maybe we should just be friends for now."
...THAT WAS MY LINE. And he totally stole my thunder.
It's hard to hate someone who tells you that 1) he's never dated a girl regularly before, and therefore doesn't know how to act in such a situation, 2) feels uncomfortable as a result and ends up acting like a jerk instead 3) doesn't know why he does this and thinks we should stop hooking up so he can figure it out. So instead of hating him, we laid on my bedroom floor and talked for a little while, as just friends. And then we had sex in my bathroom.
I'm not sure why I did that. I guess it's sort of like a diet, where you say you'll start the next day.
The odd thing is that things have actually improved since then. What I've learned in the past 5 days is that in order to get Motorcycle to be nice to me, I have to slap him and then withhold sex. He jokes that he has to work his way back into my good graces. Which I find especially funny because he dumped himself. Does anyone else find this strange?
One good thing about dating Motorcycle is that it's relatively drama-free. Since we broke up, things haven't been awkward at all. We still hang out, and he even bought me a hotdog the other day. I'm not sure if I want to go back to dating, since things are actually quite nice right now - and with the decreased libido due to birth control pills, I don't feel like I have to jump him all the time anymore.
"You're a lot less psycho than most girls," he said the other day.
I'll take that as a compliment. I guess that's one area where it's good to be below-average.
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.