A Long July

So. It got pointed out to me (again) that I suck.

My "International Health: Community and Clinical Practice" is finally over. THAT was an experience from hell, yet I somehow managed to learn tons (probably because of the ... *gasp* ... five hours of studying a night!). I can put IVs into anyone who wants one (without bruising). I can perform a symphisiotomy (spelling??) on a woman whose pelvis is too small to pass the fetus. And I can even pull teeth.

Trust me?

Apologies

Dear Sorority Sister Cristin,
This one's for you!

I apologize for my serious lack of blogging in the last few weeks. I really have no excuse except that Dawson's Creek presented a much more pleasant alternative than rehashing my rather mellow life. And I would just like to say, once and for all (now that I'm halfway through Season 4), that Dawson is a complete tool, entirely self-absorbed, and it is so obvious from the get-go that he wanted Joey to be someone that she was not and that is why she chose Pacy, as she should have. And isn't it a little weird that two of the girls have boys' names?

I digress. Actually a lot has happened these past few weeks. We had another SMN with The Exorcist and Identity. The Exorcist scared the living poo out of me and SMN were put on hold for a few weeks until I could sleep alone without crying about Capt. Howdy. They're resuming tonight, but we've decided to do one scary movie with a comedy. I'm renting tonight, so it's going to be Monty Python's The Meaning of Life and probably some B-movie. Anything so I don't cry anymore.

We also ventured out to the movie theater and saw Madagascar, in honor of my friend Jim who revisted his Peace Corps site for a month and has returned home a wee bit thinner. The movie was decent ("If you have any poo, now is the time to fling it!") and I have become fascinated with Fossa (FOO-sa).

Unfortunately, I have been sleeping alone alot because the Med Student got a horribly infected bug-bite on his wrist and rather than be responsible about it, he put it off until it got disgusting (there is a more medical term for it--cellulitis, I think) and we spent Sunday afternoon in the emergency room at St. Mary's. The antibiotics made him even more ill, so we've been sleeping separately for a few days. Capt. Howdy's having a field day in my bedroom.

Gotta get back to work, but next installment...domestic violence and Somalia.

Easy Summer Livin', or, Late 1990s Television

Classes have been over for almost a month now and I have sunk into the useless existance that is summer break. My life is ruled by the television, much like how my zodiac sign is ruled by Jupiter. I like to wake up by 9 so I can fit in Maury (*I slept with two cousins--which one's my baby daddy?!*) and then continue through until early afternoon television when I put in a DVD. Right now, I am plodding my way through the Lord of the Rings trilogy and it is just so....long. I know the movies are supposed to be cinematic masterpieces, blah blah blah. But god. Did you HAVE to make all of the characters' names so difficult to understand. Sometimes when they speak, I have absolutely no idea what the characters are saying. And I even read the books.

I've discovered I like watching television shows on DVD better than I do movies. I can pay partial attention while I either work or surf the internet. I've already gotten through all the available DVDs of Scrubs, Felicity, the OC and my new quest is to get through all the Dawson's Creek DVDs by the end of July. I'm halfway done with Season 2 and only begun in earnest. Any other suggestions would be higly appreciated. ( I tried Twin Peaks, but couldn't get into it. Toook too much concentration to know what was going on.)

Let the summer continue!

The Teeth

The Teeth

The Boy

The Boy

The Bling

The Bling

A Harelip, A 'Tard and a Blindy, or, The Slowest Movie Known to Man

I would like to make a note about SMN#2. Apparently, I was so drunk, I remember nothing about the actual plot of the movie Saw. Tasha went back to watch the movie again and said it was much more interesting and easy to follow without the six glasses of wine and the amaretto/peach schapps/coke combo which made me gag, but I drank nonetheless.


Scary Movie Night #3 : The Village.
A movie where the three main characters all present some sort of physical deformity is never a good or particularly interesting. And I'd just like to say that I have some pyschic abilities when it comes to predicting scary movie plots (or maybe just M. Night Shylamalan films). I had heard nothing about the movie ending, yet totally managed to call it.

And it sucked. The movie sucked. There is no way that I will supsend my reality enough to believe that a blind girl is able to find her way out of "Covington Forest." Oh yes. And climb a fence into year 2000 Pennsylvania.

Just thinking about the plot is making me physically ill. I think I'm going to go tan out by the pool and futher my resolve to never again watch an M. Night Shylamalan film ever again since they forever disappoint me.

"The Most Fun I've Had Without Lubricant"

Last night was our second Scary Movie Night of the summer. (We watched the original Amnityville Horror during SMN#1; favorite quote was "I'm not a pink-cheeked seminarian who doesn't know the difference between the supernatural and a bad clam.") Tasha, Alanna and I ordered in Chinese and attempted to find the "scariest movie known to man." We tried for the Exorcist, but alas, three video stores later and no Exorcist. So we settled on Boogyman, starring Barry Watson (unfortunately for him, better known as Matt from 7th Heaven) and Saw.

Something movie producers need to learn: Just because you SAY it's the "scariest movie of all time" does not make it so. And Barry Watson cannot act himself out of a paper bag. And he needs to wash his hair. And remove his testicles from his anus. Actually, growing a pair of testicles in the first place might be beneficial. Halfway through, we decided we needed to be drunker, faster. Hence the following drinking game to be played during SMNs.

Drink when:
1. The car won't start
2. The characters run upstairs instead of out the door
3. Normal people ask "What's wrong?"
4. A bizarre child/creepy pet appearance
5. Sex immediately prior to attack by killer or supernatural
6. Creepy music ends in door slamming or other loud, abrupt noise
7. Omens of death appear (dead bird, T-storms, blowing curtains, etc.)

This made Boogyman MUCH more bearable. However, even five drinks into the night, Barry Watson still can't act and we just started drinking every time he said something dumb, exhibited poor acting skills or spoke. And last night, instead of nightmares about the evil lurking in my closet, I had nightmares about 7th Heaven. That says something about the quality of that movie.

Saw was next. And truthfully, I'm not really sure what happened. I think I felt the plot was a little shaky and the ending was sort of abrupt. But the movie redeemed itself with the quote used as the title of this post. How great is that? I think it's going to be my new overused phrase. "Studying for this exam is the most fun I've had without lubricant!" Or, "Gosh, I love the zoo! It's the most fun I've had in years without lubricant!"

Elisabeth 'N' Med Student, Sittin' in a Tree....

We're getting hitched!

It's been a week since the proposal and it's still a shock. The ring is still foreign and heavy on my finger (but in a really good, really obnoxious, really sparkly kind of way). I worry I'm going to lose it and that would be a tragedy, considering it's the most expensive thing I own besides my car (but I still don't actually OWN that much of my car yet, damn loan company!).

So yes. I'm excited. I mean, he's hot and I have the hots for him (like, his ass is so hot), but I'm really excited because I've found someone I can see myself living with forever and ever until I'm old and wrinkly and my teeth fall out. And that's what life is all about, right? :)

Waxing

I don't know what came over me last night (it seems to be a week of insanity). In a fit of craziness, I called my friends Tasha and Alana to see if they wanted to go see House of Wax on opening night.

I hate scary movies, yet routinely watch them. There's something so thrilling about feeling my blood run cold. Honestly, I view most of the movies through my fingers. There's always a lot of yelling and gasping, too, and I've been known to scream out loud in a movie theater before, so if you don't like the attention, suggest a romantic comedy. After watching The Grudge, it took me a week before I felt comfortable showering alone.

Anyways, I hadn't been out to the movies since Ocean's 12 and, after watching The View interview Paris Hilton, I got it into my head that I HAD to see the movie. I'm strangely fascinated with Paris--I think because I had no idea who she was prior to leaving for Kenya and then when I came back, she was everywhere! And the porn videos. Twice!

And her movie debut wasn't that bad. Well, she can't act worth a crap, but the movie itself wasn't nearly as bad as I thought. It's a much more traditional teen slasher flick. When Paris finally bit the big one, I expected someone in the audience to yell out, "That's Hot!" but to my disappointment, no one did. When I got home from the film, I called the Med Student, woke him up and made him come over to sleep with me. And unfortunately for me, he's in Phoenix tonight, so I'm home alone with no one but my cats (who, if faced with evil twins conjoined at the face, would most likely happily greet them at the door, expecting a treat).

So, now it's 1:09 am West Coast time and I'm anxiously awake and alone, to nervous to sleep...

The Famed Paris Poof

Just in case you were unsure about the Famed Paris Poof...here it is in all its glory. Actually, the more I look at her, the more I think maybe undergrads here at the UofA are really trying to emulate Paris in her entirety.

Paris Poof

Against my better judgement I went out on Weds evening. The next day (Thursday) was "Dead Day"--meaning no classes for the university. I got to the bar at 8, after picking Jim up on the way over. Parking downtown was a bitch, as usual, but we found a metered spot a few blocks from the bar where we were meeting people. I was wearing my usual flip-flops, a pink t-shirt that said Antiqua Funk (and sported a black woman with a huge 'fro) and my fat jeans. Oh yeah, and my library lady glasses.

The night started innocently enough, with a few of us grad students nursing a pitcher of beer, but quickly degenerated into a frantic, pulsating sea of under-dressed bodies and popped collars with Nelly and 50 Cent pounding in the background. Now, maybe it's the East Coast snob rearing it's ugly head in me, but, dude--fashion in the West needs a makeover. I mean, popped collars were in style when I was still in undergrad. Two years ago. Don't times change?

And holy shit. HOLY SHIT. I thought clubbing in Tucson was bad during the winter months. I forgot that summer in the city apparently means going as naked as possible. And I mean that literally. (I've passed girls going to class in their bikinis. Not a joke.) I've never seen such a combination of nude tits, ass, thighs and shoulders. AND, it was like the girls were having an anorexia competition. I swear, this one girl turned to the side and she all but disappeared, leaving the clear plastic beer cup floating in mid-air. Thin doesn't describe it. Neither does emaciated. Half of the girls weren't drinking--presumably too many calories--and had probably snorted their dinner shortly before leaving their apartments in their halter tops and eye shadow.

It's almost like these girls are trying way too hard. Or maybe I've just forgotten what it's like in undergrad. They all looked as if they came from the exact same cookie-cutter--all sporting the extra-black eyeliner and the blond Paris Hilton Poof (you know it). People are fashionable out East, no doubt. I mean, let's just look at New York. But it seems so effortless. When you go out there, it feels like people just look fab without trying. Here, "trying" is an understatement.

Perhaps I'm just bitter, since I was wearing my fat jeans. Or maybe my age is just kicking in. I know that I'm only a few years removed from that mindset, but after the stuff that's happened recently in my life, I feel like I am a world away from that scene.

It's a tough pill to swallow, but I'm not getting any younger.

Or blonder.

Acquired Catholic Guilt

So now I feel bad about my Pope Posting. I woke this morning and on all the morning news shows, the US pundits were weighing in on the new pope.... negatively.

Poor guy. He hasn't really even started his reign (?) and people are certain he'll be bad pope.

I should be nicer.

Pope, Round 1

Okay, it's time to saddle up my high horse and go for a quick canter around the block.

Pope Benedict XVI has been officially elected as the new head of the Catholic Church. A man who used to be a member of the Hitler Youth. One of the most fundamental Catholic Cardinals.

I'm really disappointed in the Church's choice. I would argue that the Catholic Church is the most influential entity in the world and the Cardinals had the chance to move the Church into the 21st Century...And they elected a man who says, homosexuals suffer from "an objective disorder"?? And a man who has alienated even Protestants by signing a document that declares the Catholic Church the only way to salvation?

I understand why the Catholic Church will be against homosexuality, seeing as the issue is directly mentioned in the Bible. I understand their stance on premarital sex--it's mentioned. I even can understand their stance against abortion. However, I cannot understand wallowing in those issues when the Church has the opportunity to enact some social change.

Take contraception. There is nothing explicit in the Bible about using condoms, which are scientifically proven to prevent the spread of sexually transmitted diseases like HIV/AIDS--an epidemic which is ravaging the continent of Africa. Many women in Africa who are contracting HIV are not prostitutes, not having premartial sex, but are contracting the disease from their husbands. Within the sanctity of marriage. Where condoms could prevent them (and their children, because despite their serostatus, they will have children) from contracting a disease which will cause them to die. And why not use contraception as family planning? The close spacing of children is one of the major causes of malnutrion (both of mother and infants) and maternal death. That seems to be more unethical than collecting sperm in a latex baggie....

I'm not asking the Catholic Church to transform its theology--that would be untrue. But maybe instead of focusing on moral issues like homosexuality, the Church could make more of an effort to enact some social change, alleviate poverty, stop HIV/AIDS.

But the election of the one of the most fundamental cardinals to the Papacy? Diplomacy is a necessary component of being the leader of the Catholic Church. I hope "God's Rotweiler" is able to embrace the world.

It's April and 90 Degrees

So it's gotten rather warm here in Tucson. Hot, even. As in 9-0 degrees. And while I love the heat and love Tucson, I do like my car to not be a sauna. The heat's not so bad when I'm inside my apartment--and I don't run my air conditioner. But god, the car is like it's own sauna with the heat just radiating off the dashboard.

Playing Behind the Shed

So, I thought it would be kind of fun to date a third-year med student, mainly to fill my third-grade fantasies of playing doctor behind the shed. Little did I know....

It all started when I threw my shoulder out on Valentines Day at a softball game. It really hurt and I was a little worried that I had ripped a tendon or something. A few days later, when the pain hadn't gone away (actually, it still hasn't gone away), MS and I were chatting on the phone about it. Sort of sexily, I asked him if he wanted to come over and play doctor....

However, he showed up at my door expecting to rotate my shoulder and test flexibility or something....So much for an examination.

Then today, we're chatting online about differential diagnosis and VINDICATES...again, rather sexily (well, as sexy as you can get over AIM), I ask him if he wants to play doctor and diagnose me. He replies, "Sure. What is your problem?"

Oh baby.

Shout Out

I think I recently (in the last month) bitched about the Pepsi "Win a Free Song from iTunes" (where "1 in 3 wins a free song!") promotion and how I buy Diet Pepsi ALL the time in hopes of winning. And how I've bought upwards of like 15 Diet Pepsis and still haven't won a free song. Basically because I am unlucky and suck as a human being. My karma is so bad, I can't even win something worth .99 cents.

Well, MS calls me from the hospital (and can I just say how hot he is in a tie, his glasses and white doctor's coat? DAMN.) to tell me that, yet again, because he is Jewish and he is not me, he won a free song from iTunes from a Pepsi. At first, I was filled with hatred for him--rubbing in my loserness. But then, he gave me the code to redeem it and told me he loved me.

What a man. That my friends, is true love.

Fatties

As part of my morning (?) routine, I've been watching Gilmore Girls reruns on ABC Family. I don't watch it religiously, but I do have a general idea of what's going on.

Anyways, I have a beef with the show--and actually, other shows featuring fat actresses (minus UPN shows that feature big black women). Why is the fat one always pathetic? For example, the fat one on GG is a cook or chef or something in food service, as if to apologize for her fatness--she'd be thin if she didn't love cooking so much....like she needs an excuse for being overweight.

And why can't the fat girls get the hot men? I mean, I verge on being a fat girl and I have had hot boyfriends as well as average ones. I'm just so tired of fat women on TV getting the shaft--especially since 60% of the American population is fat and probably normal!

Maybe I'm not watching enough TV or not watching the right shows...but if a show is going to feature a fat actress, for the love of god, make her just a normal fat girl! Don't patronize fat women around the world by giving the fat actresses fat professions. Fat people work normal jobs, outside of restaurant critics, chefs and caterers.

Let's unite and give fat people what they deserve!!

Moderation

As I sit here eating chocolate-covered strawberries for breakfast, I started reflecting on my inability to live life in moderation. My friends, both from VA and AZ, are always laughing and teasing me about how every meal was "the best meal ever--I'm never going to eat again" or "that was the WORST four hours of my life."

I've always sort of thought of it as a negative quality. Recently, I took an online test about "Which Mental Illness Do You Have" and the only two I scored positively on was "Histrionic" and "Narcissistic." Not surprisingly, histrionic is a disorder which involves a person being overly dramatic. Probably a good fit for me.

Then I woke up this morning. In my inbox was an email from Ex-Beloved. It just might have been the nicest thing I've ever received. The gist of the email consisted of applauding my ability to live life on the fringes because I really do experience life, with all it's glorious ups and downs. I never really thought about it like that. But as my ex-beloved pointed out, despite that this has been a doozy of a year (and every time I tell myself it can't get any worse, it does), I'm still really happy (most of the time).

I guess life is too short for moderation. Live hard? Eventually, just when you think it is lost, life comes back again.

Welcome to the OC, Bitch

So following Sorority Sister Cristin's advice, I have begun the rental of The OC, Season One. I've only gotten through the first four episodes, but the Med Student and I are officially hooked. I watched disc one in less than 24 hours. Now, it's just a matter of waiting for the rest of them to come via Netflix....

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. Things have gotten....difficult. But it's starting to look up (sort of) and I promise I'll make more of an effort to write.

Anyways, Starting Over House is on and I need to continue my journey of self-love....