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The three-day weekend was nice; the time with Kyle and my mom was nice, too. I woke up 10 minutes after I normally leave this morning, and savored that split second before reality sunk in and I leapt out of bed and didn't stop moving until my seat at the lab table was filled with my butt. I like A&P Lab because it's mostly memorization and my teacher is decent. Lecture, on the other hand, is hell. The professor reads off the notes and explains nothing, and has little sense of humor. It's going to be a long, dreary summer.
I got a 92 on my first bio test, and thus far I have a hundred average on my lab quizzes. My A&P journals are up to date, and I should be decently prepared to take my lab practical and lecture exam (which are oh-so-conveniently on the same day). I feel more confident about my suicidal summer schedule than I have about any semester thus far. The biology I cheated through in 11th grade is slowly coming back to me, and I'm ahead of everyone in A&P just by virtue of my background.
Things are starting to fall into place.
I heard a song today about someone's dad who died of cancer, and I bawled (a rare occurrence) all the way home from class. I'm doing well in school, and it kills me that you don't know that. You don't know that I'm going to be a nurse, either, and it would have made you so happy. I hate that you're going to miss out on the best parts of my life: college, marriage, kids. I tell mom we'll see you again someday, but, like you, I don't really believe it. I wish I could. I miss you, dad.
Kyle's phone rang as we stepped out of the shower; it was the Deli manager asking if he could work. He leaned in with a guilty look on his face and asked if I'd mind. I half-smiled and shook my head, knowing he needed the hours. He asked if I could finish painting his room, the task we were planning on completing together. I had already planned on it, so I said. After he kissed me goodbye I cleaned the room before stripping down (it's HOT in his room) and pouring the paint. I finished just as he got home.
Kyle's parents bought him jeans, so we decided to drive home today. We stopped at my house to pick up my retainer (my teeth are trying to shift, but they don't know who they're messin' with) and my blender. He spotted the vase I made in ceramics at Firespark, which was removed from its original residence (his parent's house) and now sits proudly atop the shelves in his room. We saw _The Day after Tomorrow_ and definitely recommend it. After spending an hour with his dad I cleaned the rabbit cage and we returned to Orlando, feeling much like grown-ups.
I had a few minutes when I got home today before the drunkards showed up. When I walked out to put something away in the kitchen, they all talked to me for a few minutes, and tried to convince me to drink (I'm a peer-pressure pro). I declined, explaining my 8am lab practical. When I walked back in my room, it was like another world. My pretty, welcoming room with a CD Kyle made me playing softly. I looked around while a million thoughts swirled through my head (it's been a weird weekend), and wished it were junior year already.
Kyle spent the rest of his graduation bringings-in on a rather large flat-screen TV he found on Ebay. The place was only about 30 miles from here, so he drove over and we took my car to pick it up. A few nicks knocked $300 off the price, so it seemed like a pretty good deal. The bad deal is that he has my car for the week, since his wouldn't fit the TV. It was worth it to have him with me one more night, though. I sleep so much better when I fall asleep to his steady heartbeat.
And here we are again, in much the same position we were in last summer around this time. Last July I skipped a period, and anyone on birth control can tell you that that doesn't happen often. It was a false alarm, just caused by a change in the pill hormones, but it was scary. With every passing year, an unexpected pregnancy would be less dire than it would have been the last year. Likewise, it wouldn't be as bad now it would have been then. But it would still be bad, and until I know, I'll be shitting bricks.
I haven't tried to change my sleeping habits before; I've always gotten by with naps. I vaguely remember the first couple years of highs school when I didn't even need naps. I wasn't getting enough sleep, but I was young enough not to notice very much. Now that I drive long distances regularly and have long, early classes, I notice. A lot. I notice how fidgety, disoriented, and bitchy I get when I'm sleep deprived. So I'm slowly trying to work myself into a normal schedule, which I will presumably achieve as soon as I graduate and start shift work.
Things that irritated the crap out of me today:
Walking out of my room in the morning and smelling smoke, which meant Christi let them smoke inside again last night.
The stupid girl in A&P who let her phone ring because she was too embarrassed to acknowledge that it was hers.
Driving in I-4 traffic in the afternoon storm with Kyle's crappy windshield wipers.
Accidentally buying a magazine I already had.
The fact that it isn't Sunday morning yet, and won't be for THREE WHOLE DAYS.
Realizing how much weight I gained since I bought my parking permit in December.
Ronald Reagan died a few days ago, to the dismay of much of the country. Ray Charles, blind jazz-player extraordinaire, died yesterday. My grandmother was very disturbed by both, though I don't recall her mentioning the Creed breakup. Also, Smarty Jones lost the Belmont Stakes. He would have been the first horse to win the Triple Crown in 30-some-odd years. My grandmother was definitely sad about that one; I think my mom said that she cried. I myself was born during Reagan's second term, never loved jazz, and never liked Creed.
As for Mr. Jones, I think I'll make it.
Achluophobia- Fear of darkness
Something I've spent a lifetime avoiding. Things that scare me include, but are not necessarily limited to: darkness, being followed, large crowds, sudden loud noises, suspense (in a frightening situation), and most bugs; being alone in any of these situations greatly compounds the fear they already cause me.
The dark is the worst by far. I have to bite my lip and force myself not to sprint when I'm in the dark. I always think I'm being followed. Being followed is the second worse; I get nervous even when people are behind me in a stairwell.
I woke up early and shifted around, trying to find a position that didn't press on my bladder. After a few futile minutes I gave up and stumbled into the bathroom. I glanced at the counter and saw the pregnancy test laying there; I'd bought it as a just-in-case measure. I remembered that this morning was the earliest I could take it, and began to fumble with the wrapper in the dark. I sat by Kyle's window and watched as one line appeared, then sighed with relief when the second didn't. I'm taking another one Thursday just to be sure.
I realize only now, at 11:30 pm, that I really don't know the axial skeleton like I should. I thought I was familiar enough with the parts that I could just breeze through the memorization, but I was wrong. I'm falling asleep, and I know I won't do well tomorrow. I'm making straight A's so far- I'm mad at myself for jeopardizing that. I haven't made straight A's since 6th grade. For the first time in 7 years, I like my classes, care about my grades, and have a damn good chance of pulling this off. Don't let me falter.
Today was a cranky day. Kyle's alarm has a light for am, and mine has a light for pm. Consequently, my alarm did not go off this morning and I woke up 15 minutes late. Not a huge setback, but enough make me think "it's gonna be one of those days." I got to lab 30 minutes early, which, as it were, was not enough time to memorize the axial skeleton. I'm quite sure that I got below a C, which isn't irreparable (thank god), but still very crank-inducing. I wish A/P was as enjoyable (and informative) as biology is.
The dynamics of summer term vary from it's fall and spring counterparts. There are two types of people in summer term: those who get A's, and those who fail. There are few in-betweens. The
pre-med/nursing/pharm/etc folks get A's; the undeclared's fail. For once, I'm in the good group. We're a unique breed, and we've bonded. We joke with Pam about her in-laws disrupting her study time, laugh about Beau's "tuna sandwich with a side of corndog," and quiz each other relentlessly. We get the same grades, we get there earlier than everyone else. And damn it, we're gonna make it.
I know taking 11 credits over the summer in supposedly suicide, and that driving to Kyle's every weekend is probably just making it harder. But damnit, I'm human, and I can't help it. Unfortunately, I massacred the test I mentioned a few days ago. Axial skeleton, A&P lab- ring a bell? 57. Yup. Like the Heinz steak sauce. I almost cried in class. I wanted to tell her "This isn't me! It isn't! I haven't done this since high school and I WON'T do it again!" Instead, I grabbed a pelvis and resigned myself to making an A on appendicular.
We walked in the Cottage and nodded to Joe, who recognizes Kyle and I by now. Several people gathered around an Irish folk singer were blocking access to the pool table, so we sat near the corner and the boys ordered their beer. Matt laughed at my face after tasting Guinness, and Joe tried to talk me into a beer like he always does. We partook of the free chili and our cigars, and I eventually cracked and got a glass of zinfandel. After the singer left, we played almost-tipsy pool. It was just the kind of night I needed.
I'd just pulled my underwear down when mom came crashing in the bathroom yelling that Lisa was throwing the bouquet. Ignoring my ever-heavy bladder, I pulled up the panties and ran. The bridesmaids were already in place, vying for the best spot. I slid in front inconspicuously as the bouquet flew through the air and into my open hand. My mom cheered, the bridesmaids skulked, and a few minutes later I found myself awaiting the garter. A cute 20-something named Brad caught it, removed my heel, placed my foot on his shoulder, and slid the garter just above my knee.
The unexpected pop of the champagne cork made everyone jump, and I grinned in delight. It was my first champagne bottle-opening experience, and I'd done well. I poured everyone a glass as we toasted Ginny's 50th, and realized it was my third glass this weekend. When Steve began talking about dad, I thought about yesterday and how I had to leave the room during the father-bride dance because I was crying so hard. Today is the second father's day that I have no father, and this weekend I really missed him. There is so much I still need him for.
After a particularly long biology lecture, I set foot in my apartment for the first time since Thursday around noon. I spent my afternoon watching the first two seasons of _Sex and the City_, which I had never seen. Following that was the part I never really look forward to. I systematically returned my blow-dryer to the bathroom cabinet, phone charger to its plug, text-books to the hutch, clothes to the closet. I did the dishes and cleaned what Christi's friends left behind after a long weekend in my absence. I move back in for three days, anxiously awaiting Thursday.
"Plans are only good intentions unless they immediately degenerate into hard work."
I am one of those people normal people hate because I'm so disgustingly organized. I make perfect lists of everything I need to be doing today, tomorrow, this week, this year. I have chore lists, errands list, homework lists, life goals lists, and budgets galore. If only I actually had things on my lists checked off.
"There is a great difference between worry and concern. A worried person sees a problem, and a concerned person solves a problem."
Again- a worrier makes lists, a concerner checks them off.
I got an A in bio lab, which I am pleased about. My last lecture test is on Monday, and I'll be done with the first, most strenuous, half of my summer.
I watched Monster today, and was amazed not only at how ugly they managed to make Charlize Theron look, but also at how sad and disturbing the movie was. I didn't sleep much last night, and I just put my patch'o'hormones back on yesterday, so I'm a little screwy today. I hate being tired, and I hate feeling all sad for no reason.
I don't miss The Rollercoaster.
So I decided to skip A&P lecture today because I wanted to get some stuff done. I got nothing done but watching _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_ with Christi and then remembering that today was the day we could turn in our journals (if they were up-to-date, which mine is) for extra credit. Go me. So I was put in a bad, then proceeded to have the silliest of angry fights with Kyle, and began my weekly trek to Orlando to fight some more. On the way, I got my first speeding ticket. $148. Again, go me. I blame my hormones.
I didn't end up with a bun in the oven last month, but that got me thinking. I wonder if I've ever ovulated. I only had like 6 periods before I turned 18 and went on birth control, which prevents ovulation. I didn't get a period the one month I was off birth control, which makes me wonder how I'm ever going to get pregnant.
Also, I've been exhausted lately and I have NO SEX DRIVE. Kyle's worried, and so is mom. So I got tested for lupus today.
They want me to see a counselor. We'll see.
Kyle wants me to see doctor about my tiredness, because he said it isn't normal. I countered him, saying that between my poor diet, lack of exercise, and crappy sleep habits, it's no wonder I'm exhausted all the time. Then he said that he's even worse than I am and not nearly as messed up. He also thinks I don't talk about my dad enough, and that I'm holing my emotions in. If that's true, I'm not doing it consciously.
He even talked to my mom about it. Is something wrong with me? If there is, is it that obvious?
Kyle and I watched _Equilibrium_, which is kind of like a hybrid of _1984_, _Fahrenheit 451_, and _The Matrix_. It's set not too far in the future, maybe in the 2090's. After WWIII nearly wiped out mankind, the government decided to take drastic measures. In an attempt to prevent more war, everyone is required to take "Prozium" (ring a Prozac bell?) to keep them completely devoid of emotion. Also, all things art are outlawed. Those convicted of "sense offence" are shot without question. Despite the predictability, it was an excellent movie. It will make you very glad you can feel.
I'm in a weird transitional state right now, that is, the state between "how I got by in high school" and "omg that won't work for college." I did pretty poorly in high school, I came out with around a 2.7 and an 1160 (recent high school grads will remember the importance of these numbers). I'm much smarter than that, but if there's one thing I've always lived up to, it's my "wasted potential." I've pulled off a freshman 3.2 that easily could have been a 4.0, and it's starting to hit me- magna cum laude? Better start trunkin', babe.
I applied for a job today, not necessarily on a whim, but almost. I've been perusing the job listings at the hospital for a couple months, but everything required training that I didn't have the time to get. So when several ER unit secretary positions opened, I asked mom what her opinion was. She said it would be good, albeit stressful, experience, and that it would look good on my nursing school app. So I applying without giving it much thought. It's very low part time, and I hope I get an interview. I'm getting excited- it could be good.
Every now and then I get these weird I-feel-adulty flashes, where something I do sparks an idealistic sort of grown-up feeling. I drove to the notoriously snobby New Tampa area today, in search of the only dry-cleaner Christi knew. A very preppy young man took my prized summer dress and $8 from me. I wondered how people could afford to have most of their wardrobe dry-cleaned. I also hunted unsuccessfully for linens for my new bed. It was a nice hot Florida day, perfect for errands, laundry, and a strawberry-poppyseed salad at Panera's. I could do this student thing forever.
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