Still Looking For A Dream

Of the things that scare me, I can name three: I am afraid of losing my family, just the thought of them dying makes me cry. I am afraid of loving, the thought of surrendering myself to someone who can break me is unfathomable. And third, I am afraid of dreaming, the thought of wanting something so much only to be disappointed is too much.

Next month, I will be 20. I don't particularly mind getting older. It is just an increase in number, a birthday is just a means of measuring your time on earth. Age does not equate to maturity or intelligence. I could be forty and have a maturity of a thirteen year old, and be as smart as a physicist. Age does not mean a lot to me. The only thing I am really happy about turning twenty is the feeling of triumph I might get. Finally, I caught up to my older siblings. Maybe I'll have more common ground with them since I will no longer be a teenager.

The nursing advisor from the university I am applying to called me last Friday to inquire if I was still serious about my application. Of course. Presently, the desire to enter Nursing school is the only thing I am being driven by. I don't care if I don't get any vacation, if I'll study to the pain, I don't care. As long as I get accepted into their program then that's all that matters. And that scares me the most. I've always felt that if I wanted something so much then the world will conspire against me. I'm not afraid of failure, I am afraid of disappointment.

When I was younger I wanted so much for my family to be a family. A family that would be together, seeing each other off as the day started, going home and sharing stories during dinner, playing, having picnics and outings together, being there for each other happily ever after. Of course, that never happened seeing as my two older siblings were in college, my older brother disliked me, my parents were in their own world, and I was the youngest daughter still in grade school. Move over kiddie, we have lives to handle. By the time I was in high school, I no longer cared if we were in the same house or not and whether my parents would be home on the weekend. My life isn't as melodramatic in reality, but that was because I didn't care. I've learned to be content that they're alive.

When I was in fifth grade, I remember being called to the Principal's office because they wanted me to compete for a scholastic writing contest. I remembering protesting that I knew nothing about writing but they assured me that it didn't matter. All I had to do was write in Filipino and it would be fine. Oh. So I did as I was told and went off with other students to the competition. I was scared to death that day with all the unfamiliarity and anxiousness. Even today I cannot remember what the topic was, all I can remember was berating myself for not learning cursive and not knowing how to count 2500 words. Tough luck, kid. At the end, when they were announcing the top nine winners, I could remember sitting stiffly and thinking how happy I would be if I won the ninth position. I dared not hope higher when I knew nothing about writing. I was so disappointed when I never heard my name that I stopped listening at the sixth placer. But I remembering tensing further when my classmate, who was also in the competition for illustration, started shaking me and shrieking, "You won! You won!" I stared at her perplexedly and asked her what I won, to which she replied, "They called your name! You won the first place!" Imagine that. I was thankful that I made in to the stage without passing out.

Later that week the winners from my school were told that we were going to another competition. I was ecstatic that I dared to hope. I wanted to win again. I've never been good at anything before that when I got my first trophy, I thought I could do it again. Of course, I wasn't able to win again and I wasn't able to go to the competition. I wanted so badly to cry but it hurt so much to even try, so I just pushed to bitter experience to the back of my mind. Pain burns so much like acid and disappointment is like a crushing blow. I never attempted to write again after that. It was too painful and raw.

And now, I am back to dreaming. I'm back to hoping that this time I'll be accepted into that program and I'll be graduating as a nurse in two years. I wish. Do I dare to put my heart on a platter and hope that it won't be crushed? The only reason I've stopped wanting things is because disappointment requires too much emotion. And that is why this blog's header is Bombeck's quote. I've stopped dreaming long ago, the moment I knew that apathy was safer was the moment I stopped caring. I no longer desired for my family to be together, I no longer dreamed of greatness, and I no longer wanted. I stopped being a child and went off into the world of adult skepticism and pessimism. But once more, I will hope. I will hope for my future that I will be accepted to their program and finally start my way to nursing. Just once more, I will dream and not be tainted by the doubt of disappointment.

Playing Hooky...

I finally get a break, in a form of the academic Spring Break. I feel ambivalent though since I'm still thinking of the many things I need to do, like my Utopia outline, my Statistics homework, my Pathophysiology case studies and notes, and my World Religion worksheets, and oh, start my research for my Health Care Ethics presentation. It's not really a break, I say, when my brain is still working and fried. But beggars can't be choosers, I certainly am appreciative of the break of driving 34 miles everyday, of waking up before my alarm does, and of struggling with a parking space, and not to mention the familiarity of facing some of my zany professors. Yup, I am totally happy right now even with the workload.

I've been back to college for three months now. I've been handling the stress pretty well (are you sure?!) considering the fact that I have a full load. Famous last words, Kat (cue evil, maniacal laughter). The only thing more stressful than class requirements are people. I have met the most awesome, weirdest, world-record breaking, insane, dumb-founding, and memorable people this semester. Take my Patho professor, I've been complaining about her all semester. Maybe it's because she doesn't have PowerPoint or it could be the fact that she has time to have manicures twice a week but no time to change the erroneous exams she gives us. But it could just be the fact that people who took her last semester absolutely adore her, but I'm still waiting for that person to come to class. Mondays and Wednesdays are devoted to complaints against her. Maybe it's my pride that's bruised for getting Bs in her exams and not As.

And then there's my classmate in Patho, B. She's fifteen years my senior, one of the smartest persons I know, and one of the most interesting. It could be because she has experienced most of the diseases we've covered in class: Hemolytic anemia of the newborn, Jaundiced at birth, Constantly low blood pressure even with medication, hypovolemic shock, congenital heart problems, anaphylactic shock, and oh, she's allergic to 80% of the medication out there. That's what I call phenomenal. But it could also be because she's on counseling right now because her husband is a jerk. Case in point when he let their health insurance lapse, and when he constantly goes hiking when he should be job hunting, and when he should at least wash the dishes since he's the one at home. Makes me want to stay the heck away from marriage. Whatever the reason I find her fascinating we get along famously. Thick as thieves, as Lemony Snicket would say.

Another professor, my Buddhist World Religions teacher, makes me laugh. It could be because of the fact that she keeps saying she's a double capricorn and won't grow up, whatever that means. Or the fact that she disses all religions, even hers, but especially mine. Or maybe it's because she owns tons of cats, has myasthenia gravis, and keeps saying "I'm not ready for this" when it comes to our exams. She certainly is quirky, you have to admit a person who's willing to sabotage their jury duty is something.

Then there's Maria, of the Filipino-French-Vietnamese parentage. She's divorced, loves dancing, and is usually late for class. She's divorced because her ex-husband was pre-meditatively killing her. Isn't that obvious when your spouse lists down a number of ways to make you angry when he knows you have a heart problem, and then conveniently says, "I love you" afterwards in an attempt to soothe you? Or it could be the way he conveniently leaves a "Dear John" letter for her in his bag and dismissing it as "nothing." But then later you change jobs, change cellphone numbers, and refuse to leave a forwarding address. Charming.

There's tons more of people that make my list. And in their own way, make me laugh, cringe, gape in shock, roll my eyes, and just about see life in their eyes. Why the list? Well, they make me realize that everyone is a small person in the universe. All of us have our own little worlds but it all comes down to the fact that everyone living has stress, crappy spouses, insane professors, cats, and mounds of homework. It humbles me that I am not alone in my misery but with other people I can be free to laugh, cry, scream in frustration, and live.

So I'm playing hooky, with the knowledge that it's okay to just be sometimes.

P word for Stick Figures.

My lovely class schedule for Spring semester 2009. I'm neurotic when it comes to making diagrams and such. So as you can see, this schedule pleases me. And it gives me other P words in mind, like pressure, panic, paranoia, and possible plentiful pounds of painkillers. But I'll take it one day at at time, until I reach the peroration (another P word for conclusion). So wish me the best. Kat, fight-O!!

Time Capsule

I'm currently studying for my Food & Nutrition finals for Monday. As much as I'm trying to concentrate for our comprehensive exam, I can't help but be distracted by thoughts of what I'm going to do after this semester ends. Just last week I heard from my friend that the Nursing program I was planning to apply to is being frozen due to having budget issues and having way more people apply than they can accommodate. Of course, I'm now one of those people who are part of the 'Cannot be Accommodated' group. This just depresses me to the point of developing frown lines overnight.

Since I've changed my major from 'Undecided' to 'Fine Arts & Humanities', and finally to 'Nursing', I've been pushing myself to complete my prerequisites, enter the Nursing program, graduate with sparkly rainbow colors, and join the work as a Nurse. I snort as I type this since the only thing I seemed to have accomplished was finish my prerequisites. And those prerequisites were just for the Maricopa Community College Nursing requirements to enter their program. Of course I have submitted my application and now in the wait list. The fact that the wait could take years though is just a minor detail. So now I am again going to finish my prerequisites for the University Nursing program. I'm guessing that would take a year at the most, and there's that minor detail again that they're extremely competitive and only accept straight As from your transcripts. Minor detail that out of 300 people they only accept 100 on a good day. And the most minor of all the details, their program is now "temporarily frozen". That takes the cake. I roll my eyes at the thought that maybe, I'm just guessing, I'm wasting time.

So now on my break, I'm inquiring other universities on their Nursing program, and if, hopefully begging, they can let me graduate in the very near coming soon in your local theaters future. The first in the least is a private university that advertises the fact that they have room for nursing students, in response to the crisis of all wait-listed students probably. My response to their response is: Please accept me in your university, I am willing to study my slacker butt off for you, and lay you golden eggs in the form of straight As. Seriously, my inner nerd is crying for a school that will let me graduate, or at least give me assurance that by the time I'm twenty-one I am already working. For crying out loud, I'm turning twenty in four months or so.

The only reason I'm harping and griping on this desperation to graduate is the fact the I want to end being a burden to my parents. I want them to retire and enjoy their lives somewhere they want to, where they won't have an obsessive compulsive, perfectionist for a boss. I know I should be looking for a part time job at least, and I am. The minor detail getting in my way is the fact that this state is in major recession, and more people are losing job rather than gaining promotion. My desire to immediately graduate makes me seem like a child wanting to be an adult Right Now. Laughable to some, I know, but for me it's really Srs Bzns. (Text speak for Serious Business). I guess it's more a frustration right now where I seem to just be running in circles and then straight to a wall. I feel like this is some demented game of Snakes & Ladders where there's more snakes than ladders, more manholes than highways.

Lord God, I just close my eyes in prayer. I need a miracle.

Ataractic effect.

It's been months since I last updated on my school work or what I have been up to these past weeks. The only reason I can give is my laziness, or the fact that I felt like procrastinating. Either way, an update is clearly appreciated.

This month has certainly been quite interesting. First, it's November. I can't believe how fast time has flown, only a month left and Fall semester is done. Wow. November has been welcomed by the joint (children's) birthday party of my Another interesting fact, I've been drawing again, with much intensity in fact. Yay. The most obvious interesting fact is that US has now a new president. The first black US president, in actuality. I am not able to vote yet, but I am quite interested in how this country will turn out under his presidentship. And the most fun interesting thing, or things I should say, is that I finally went to the Phoenix Symphony Hall and watched a live orchestra perform Petrouchka while renowned third generation puppet master Basil Twist and his crew performed with their puppets. The other, is that I have started baking. My first try is the Devil's Food Cupcake or also known as the Red Velvet Cake. As I have enjoyed the orchestra, my test subjects, I mean family members also enjoyed the cuppycakes. So that's a success to me.

Despite the many happenings, there's the ataractic effect like the calm before the storm. I have an easy-A class right now, from the term you can easily glean that you can get an A in that class without even trying. There's the Phi Theta Kappa that's inviting me to be a member, an international Honors Society that bases their membership on grade point average and the units you've completed. Yeah, I'm being praised for all the stuff in school I've gone through. I'm humbled and all but it feels so much like dark foreshadowing in a story. Maybe I feel that way since there's the pressure of the Spring semester coming up in January. Spring should sound pretty, like flowers blooming, birds singing, as in Vivaldi's Spring. But my Spring semester sounds like sixteen units worth of credits, five classes Mondays thru Fridays, hours of mental torture with even more mental professors, and sucky parking spaces. Sounds like fun to me. I have endured it before though, good times, good times.

I shall enjoy this ataractic sedateness, link my arms behind my head, and close my eyes in rest. And come Spring, I shall face the storm and hope to the high heavens that I do not drown. Meanwhile, let's eat more of those cupcakes.

Food and Nutrition Lab Rule 6: Do not eat, drink or smoke in the lab

That title right there is one of our Lab safety requirements for Food and Nutrition. It is kind of ironic, don't you agree? I was wondering what one does in a Food and Nutrition Lab, or why one needs a Food and Nutrition Lab. I found out that there is no food involved in a Nutrition Lab, we are in fact actually required to fast for one project. Irony, that is the word for the day. Well, my day at least.

How do I start? (Or continue, I suppose). I went to school early today, at least an hour and 45 minutes early. Because, first of all, parking during the Fall (or Spring) semester is so bad that it is horribly horrid. The other reasons were that I needed to buy my textbook and print out the notes for class. I just have to say that going to school an hour and forty five minutes early seemed to be the common consensus by my fellow collegiates. And I spent the next forty five minutes circling the parking lots (north and south) with other students circling there way away. We were like ants foraging for food under the Arizona sun. And the more time I was wasting, the antsier I got along the rest of the masses. I concluded that life sucks when you can't find a parking space, or make one. I got so fed up looking for a space that I ended up parking three blocks outside campus.

That is just the start of my lovely day. So now, I had an hour left, but wait it took me fifteen minutes to get to the other side of campus to the bookstore. And once I got there the checkout line was l-o-n-g, endless. It took a good twenty minutes for the line to dwindle and for me to get out of there. Another fifteen minutes got me to the Life Science Lab to print out my class notes and five minutes to get me inside the Technology 1 building. I had five minutes to spare. Yay me.

Another highlight of the day was the vending machine. No, I did not kick it. I almost did though when it wouldn't spit out the potato chips I was planning to have for lunch. There's always the "Now what?" moment after a vending machine eats your dollar and doesn't release your food. So I looked for coins in my purse and found three US quarters and one Canadian quarter. They were the same size...so I figured that the machine might take it. I took one quarter and fed it to the machine and took another one which the machine promptly spat out. I did that two more times and got out two potato chip bags for the price of one dollar and a quarter, instead of two dollars. Another Yay me moment.

Currently, I am looking forward to the long weekend since I have no class projects or assignments due. My professor, whom we shall call Persian Mistress, apparently likes giving our assignments to do in class. So Yay.

I am Queen

Right now it is about 109 Fahrenheit. It is so hot that when I was outside in the parking lot I felt like I was burning or roasting without the flames. It was 111 Fahrenheit in my school earlier so that was probably a prelude to hell.

Anyway, my brain has undeniably fizzed out. Seriously. ME using multisyllabic verbiage is just a great concoction of your imaginations. Believe it. I only have three hours of sleep from the previous night and five hours from last night. That would have been sufficient enough if I didn't have any exams or whatnot. But my oh my, fancy meeting you here, I had a lab practical on cat veins, blood and lymphatics, plus our sheep hearts. Yeah, get over it. But wait! There's more...dun dun dun. I decided last night that I was going to take the Nurse Entrance Test Test (Duh. They call it the NET Test). Psh. I'm an idiot. That's an exam for about two hours on math, reading comprehension, reading rate, test taking skills, stress level, and an added bonus for me, hunger control. UNbelievable.

So, anyway, I took both exams earlier and I have yet to find out my lab practical result but I do know my NET test result. Let it be said for the record that that test was taken without any food in my system and lack of sleep...SO, let's just say that I passed. WooHoo. Okay, okay, so I scored better on my Math than the Comprehension. Big deal. Isn't it?? Yeah, it is. I scored better on my Math than the Comprehension. It's true. People who know me dear can attest that me and math are not tight but we manage. SO that was kind of a weird situation. I feel kinda bad since I am so much better at reading and comprehension. But my comprehension was non-existent today since I was just shy of passing out cold on the High Tech1 Building Room HT-143. Hunger and lack of sleep can do that to me.

I am Queen. Queen of Procrastination Hullabaloo. The reason that I took the NET test without preparation was 'cause I needed it as a requirement for my Nursing Application which I need to submit by Monday since I want to get in the Banner Program whose deadline for application is this Monday. Cheers for me. I am likely to kill myself before I can submit that application. SIgh. I need my Fingerprint Clearance Card since it is also a requirement but it will take three weeks or so to get to me. I am really, really not that optimistic about all this. But at least, I really am trying. The only reason I am rushing is 'cause I want to be considered for Estrella Mountain Community College's (school near our house) October Nursing Program. If I don't make the application I'll have to either wait for a year on the waitlist, or I could hope to be considered for the next batch which will be on March 2009 (Next Freaking Year) for Glendale Community College (college I go to right now which is farther from our house).

If my 2+2 did not equal 4 in your head, that is entirely my fault but your problem. Heh. :) Kidding. Yay me, Queen of PH.

open up the moon for you

Second week of summer class is officially over. We've finished our first exam and our first lab practical. I've finally become used to once again waking up at 6 in the morning and arriving in school early enough to chat with fellow early classmates. I bring my daily fuel of chocolate and some other snack passable as food to last me for the day. And off the day starts with my whole six hours devoted to my AP (Anatomy & Physiology) prof, with me hanging on to his every word as he lectures through the endocrine system to cat dissection. Seriously, it's like sacrificing your first born child to the witch who caught you red handed in her garden. Why did the witch have a garden anyway? For her magickal potions and poisons perhaps? But I digress.

My professor isn't boring per se, he's just on a tight schedule is all. After all covering half of our text book in five weeks is not for the feint of heart. So I can quite understand his need to bring us along up to speed. But still, it is not easy to listen to him for six hours straight. He drones on and on with occasional side stories about people he knows or read about with a medical condition pertaining to our topic. It is funny to hear about his colleague who experimented with melanin and ended up making ridiculous amount of money for creating a sex enhancer. Or about the alarming story about his friend who developed a weird problem with the pericardium covering his heart when it became calcified like egg shell. Or that a dissected turtle heart placed in a saline solution would still be able to beat for two days due to its being myogenic. Who knew, right?

That's all lecture right there. That doesn't even count lab. Our first day in lab had me up in arms of cat insides. Seriously. Our cat was pretty big and fat. His liver was freakishly huge. We have a theory that he was an alcoholic or something. Arteries are fun to learn, like really. Sarcasm, much? I'm not complaining since I'm fascinated that every cat is unique. And that just means that you and I are very much unique too. Aww. Yeah, I'm just too perky for my taste. And if you're cringing and sobbing right now about me being inhumane and mutilating kitties, stop right there. It's part of the disclaimer in our lab class that we were working on cats that were just being neglected by society. They were the ones that were unable to live in homes with people to care for them. So they were euthanized to put them out of their misery or collected in body bags from road casualties. Which is still quite sad but that's better for me than the thought of them being abused somewhere.

Today we handled sheep hearts. Should I wait for that to sink in for awhile? (Kat, you big meanie! First, cats! Now, you talk about poor sheep? How could you?!) Yeah, I feel your outrage. But before you start the rotten vegetable target practice, bear with me awhile. I'm learning to be a nurse. And I need to be able to know what I'm doing if I be one. So I need to have knowledge on real body parts and familiarize myself with the big world in organs and veins and arteries. When I graduate and you become a patient of mine, I want you to be glad that I know my stuff so you can continue on with your stuff. I'd open up the moon for people if that would save them, but I doubt there's anything to be dissected there.

So now that you know that I'm trying my hardest right now, I hope that I'll be able to know my stuff to before our second exam on monday. SIgh. So much for all that.

Sensible Sounds Kindly Shut Up.

I'm done taking my pre-requisites, all I need is one co-requisite, and an application packet and I'm set. All I need to do is wait for my application to be processed and hopefully be accepted in the Nursing Program this year. So why am I dilly dallying?

I'm 19. I'm considered a grown up. Heck, I am grown up. And yet, I still twiddle my thumbs and bury myself in the land of Lala. Does anyone else have the same problem? Many times I wish for a How To Manual or An Idiot's Guide to Growing Up. Please. No matter how mature you get you still quake in your dolled up shoes when you have to go through something new. I guess that's one of the rules.

The first time I was in a plane was a domestic flight to Cebu. That wasn't so scary since I was with my parents. And the naive me was yet to know that Cebu was in the Philippines. The next plane rides were more fun and was just routine that now I can board a plane alone for international flights. And no, Arizona is far from the Philippines.

The first time I was in school was me being too young to remember. All I can remember is learning to write in short hand and being annoyed since my penmanship sucked. Maybe it's because if those black, jumbo pencils. Now I can attest that I know how to write in cursive but it still sucks. I've been to nine different schools since and being a college student, like all the previous levels still has both pros and cons. The only difference is my classmates are not of my race and I actually pay attention in class to the point of being called a nerd.

The first time I drove a car was with my mom in the Farm. She wanted me to learn so she let me take out our van for a drive. It wasn't that nerve wracking since it was an automatic car. Later I would learn how to drive a stick shift, or a manual car. That was harder and earned me more frustrated lectures from my dad and annoyed glares from my older brother who expected me to learn in a day. Suffice to say, that wasn't an easy process and three years later I'm still an amateur in parking and avoiding curbs.

The first time I drove myself to school via the freeway alone in my car, I was gripping the steering wheel so hard. I was tense and unable to fill my lungs with enough oxygen for survival. I arrived in school with ample time to shake off my trembling limbs and prevent tears of joy from leaking. Driving home was better, I was gripping the steering wheel less, and I could breathe easier. All in all I survived and now I can drive with one hand and half of my brain memorizing previous class lectures.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. I've taken many single steps, and I guess It'll take time when I can run to my destination. I'm still a frog in a well, I don't know how great the ocean is. I guess wanting to grow up is different from actually being a grown up. I can say it's freakier and more troublesome but it's not something I can avoid if I want to reach my goals. Years ago I didn't know what I wanted to be, and now I am wanting to be something. Move forward, that's all I can do. Mada mada dane (You still have lots to learn).

the blame game

I had a fun day today. I went to my Micro class and wrote down lecture notes and then proceeded to the Micro lab. Thank God that I did not spill any more of my culture broth :) So I'm definitely happy about that. What's funny though is that I did not mess up this time but someone, or rather something else did. Our last incubated experiments got contaminated by a fruit fly. Yep, those little flying suckers. It had a great time gallivanting through our class' agar plates so most of our experiments had worms in them. Yes, ew. But it was bearable and we just went through lab uneventfully.

When I finally got out from lab, I sat on the bench near the Life Science building to wait for Dr. Coop for our study session. As I was waiting, I noticed a lady with a doberman and her companion a good distance from me. A few moments the healthy (obese) woman fell forward, as if in slow motion. Her companion, her dog, and I just stared at her as she fell on the ground. Huh. I just watched on impassively but felt my eyebrow raise when she yanked the dog's leash and started yelling at her dog. I watched on as she continued to scold her dog for causing her to fall. "Shame on you!" And other words of anger were issued from her mouth.

I wasn't amused but I had a smile on my face. I wasn't smiling because she fell, I was smiling because she was blaming her dog. I wanted to walk up to her, help her up and say, "Excuse me but don't blame your dog that you're fat." It's mean. But it clearly wasn't her dog's fault when she suddenly pitches forward and hurts her knee. It's a dog, it doesn't know any better. What egged me more was the fact that she was using her dog to carry her things, like a common mule or a dessert camel. I felt bad for the dog to have such an owner. This post may provoke and/or offend people and start the hating and rotten vegetables thrown at me. But what I saw was an obese woman too lazy to carry her stuff around campus, using her poor dog to carry them for her and blaming it for her own fault. I don't mind fat people, I like being fat. What I don't like is when you go and lash out at something or someone else who can't defend themselves from your attack. That's just spiteful and cowardly.

I wanted to name this post 'Don't blame the dog you're fat' but no that's not nice. The next time that happens just don't use your dog as the scapegoat and we're cool. It's easy to point our manicured fingers at someone or something else but it takes a real person to accept that the blame is theirs alone. It's not easy but it is the right thing to do. Everything else considered, my day was fun, dogblaming and all.

K is for klutziness, the kind that bites you in the ass.

This day just continues to amaze me. A tuesday that should have have been normal is acting so alien that even I am left staring at it. The day started normal as a normal day would be for me. I woke up to the ever vengeful alarm clocks, prepared for school, skipped breakfast, and drove steadily through the freeway. I was early. Maybe that's what's off.

Anyway, the lecture on genetics and biotechnology was confusing but that was understandable. Manipulating genes and usage of the products sounds something Scifi channel would air. But nonetheless, it was fascinating and not to mention part of the third lecture exam. But I digress, that wasn't the weird part at all.

Lab, now that is a different subject altogether. We began the Unknowns Lab today. Ah, my young broth culture, G157, we had fun together. I was flabbergasted. We had to do several tests to determine what our unknown bacteria were. It was like a blind date: awkward, unscripted, and cringe worthy.

I started out fine with the wet mount for the Motility test and the Streak plate. It was fun, that is until I proceeded to Gram staining, the Thioglycollate broth, and the slanted agar media. For the record, I suck at gram staining. Maybe because I'm sort of color blind that I can't distinguish red from purple. And seriously, bacillus is hard to tell from cocci and spirillum, even under Oil of the microscope. That was the start of my blind date fiasco.

It went downhill from there when I overtipped G157 and spilled some of the broth on my hands and the lab table. Contamination, much? Good thing Katie loves me enough to spray my hands and the immediate area with disinfectant. But still. Guh. Bacteria. I don't want to die due to contamination. That's just pathetically sad. I had to scrub my hands raw with soap under hot (scalding, peel your skin off, sue McDonald's and win Hot). If I were an ostrich, I would have buried my head under sand and stayed there until hell froze over twice.

But blind date isn't even over. We'll continue the date for the next week and the weeks after that. That wouldn't be a problem if I didn't spill half of my broth. Now I only have thismuch. Thismuch won't last for two more plates or tubes. This is sucky more so since I know this isn't the end of my clumsy klutziness.

Excuse me while I go bash my head repeatedly on the wall now.

in a loss

I have no words to describe this. This, this. Just this. Foremost, I'm caught off guard. Our dog ran away. Poor Chairo. I can't believe it but yeah. I'm sad now. I don't even want to talk about him. And what makes me more sad is the fact that no matter what I do I still cannot get the grade I want. Why? Is there a conspiracy against me? A plot out to keep me from getting that grade? I'm tired. I don't want to give up but that class is argh. I don't want to complain and angst and whatever. But still it's so frustrating. I just want to find a corner to cry into, but all the ones I see are taken by other classmates. I can do this. But I'm not sure if it's enough. I don't want to obsess about the grade but why can't I not want it when I know that I know the stuff. It's that simple but it's that hard. So just let me rant and vent.

Agsbsdguiahdhegduyq3bhdsu83uIYDhi379w;Y&y7;IHFBCNDCF97d7wet7sai7WHEA7w7eihfad.

DIE. LIKE RIGHT NOW. JUST DIE.

alarm clocks from space and why i was late

Scene this January 16, AM. Under the confines of my cozy blankets, buried in warmth.

Suddenly jolts awake. Stares at the round clock hanging on the wall I'm facing. Reads 9.00 AM. Slow, blink...*ding*. Freak out in full mode.

Inside head: Freak!!!!!

I woke up at 9AM. My Anatomy class is 8AM. Yes, I was in "I'm gonna die" mode. I was thinking whether I should still forge on and go to Lab which starts 9 on the dot. YES, I had to at least show up in lab.

So, I threw on presentable clothes, tied back my messy hair, brushed my teeth, grabbed my bag and book, car keys, sock and shoes, and dashed to my car.

I wasn't speeding. Seriously. Ok, so I was but only about 5mph more. And I got to school without further incident, except there was no available parking space in campus. If there was one, it wasn't showing itself to me. Ooh, I just saw one...well, technically, it was a parking space. A space between two cars which you can manage to fit one's car into is a parking space. So, yeah, I got it. And out the passenger side I went.

I speedwalked/dashed/ran? to Montezuma Hall to reach my room. And outside, was my Prof, Prof Z. Aha! She graciously allowed me to go inside the room despite me not showing up in lecture and our lab had started. Yes! Thank you Lord!

Once inside, a few inquiries directed to my table mates assured me that I had not missed a lot. Only that we had a quiz on Wednesday. Ok, cool, I can handle that. I think. Lab had us discussing tissues, art vs. tissues, and microscopes, digital and nondigital.

Lab finished and I found myself walking back to my car. Only to find the people parked next to unable to leave since they couldn't get inside their car. Well, the guy couldn't get to the driver's seat, so they couldn't leave. He was going to try to get in the car by using the back door of their van...but dude, too many obstacles to hurdle, seats and all.

I stood a few feet away, inconspicuously, of course. The guy finally decided to try going in by the passenger side where his girl companion was sitting. Heh. He got in and drove away successfully. I was waiting for screeching or some sort of painful noise. You know, the one that accompanies a piece of something scratching your car by the ragingly mad person. But, no, they were good people. I got in my car and drove away into the light. Ah, it feels so good to go back home.

But wait, I haven't even learned my lesson yet. So the lesson for the day was this: Don't freak out. We say do your best and God will do the rest, but no. It's actually God doing His best and everything so that we just have to do the rest. The simple lesson is trust God. Trust God even when your alarm doesn't do its job, or when your class is 8 and you wake up 9, or when you have to use the passenger door to get out of your car. Believe me, it's better than cursing your alarm clock like a lunatic and waiting for it to give a suitable response. It may make you feel better but it won't fix your day. :)

Spring.

I'm just pausing in writing a lab report on membrane transport. I feel like my head will explode with the monotony of repetitive words like solution, diffusion, reagents, and unsupported hypothesis.

My arm hurts less now, not that it was hurting a lot to start with (I accidentally burned myself). But I think the burns are slowly healing, I hope so anyway. I didn't even feel pain when I burned myself... tsk tsk tsk. Ouch. Oh well. Maybe my brain was just too busy absorbing three chapters before our second Bio exam.

Speaking of Bio exams, I hope I get a higher score this time. Our professor is so hopelessly disorganized but extremely demanding. My classmates say that he's in his own universe. Funny, I think so too. He is so weird. But I appreciate his weirdness these days unlike before. But I hope that he'll be more organized. Seriously, our first lab reports we gave him early September was just returned this week, mid October. Yeah, I think that's a big time span...but who knows maybe he really is extremely busy.

Argh. I scratched my car. Idiot. Who doesn't notice a huge pole in the middle of a parking lot? Seriously. I got the car scratched when I was parking. Who does that?! Only me, I tell you. Good thing Mama didn't get mad at me. Papa reminded me that I shouldn't "move the car when unsure." Sigh, at least it wasn't worse. Thank God.

It's almost Mama's birthday. A week away from now. I still don't have a gift for her though. I don't know what to get her. Hmm...

Oh my gosh. I have issues. I've been eating chocolate since September that it's not funny anymore. Chocolate = comfort food. Maybe. But comfort food is not equal to healthy. My brain says "but it has antioxidants and stuff," yeah, I'm also going to be a diabetic if I keep at it. So I must resist!!

I have new acquaintances from class. Sounds fun. They're mostly girls. Tiana and Leean are my age. They sit next to me in lecture.  Rebecca, whom I call Debbie/Becky, is my age also, maybe. She's usually my lab partner along with Tina who is slightly older, like 10 years older and married. Tina and Tiana are my study buddies. They try to study and I entertain them. Anyway, guys from my class are okay-okay. Muhammad is usually the guy who asks how I did in the test or something. Howard, the blond behind me in lecture, always or most usually asks the prof a question he can't answer. I don't know who I pity more, Howard or our disorganized prof.

Anyway, maybe this 27th Mama and I are going to the lake with her previous work pals. Dee invited us to her boat. Wow, I'll be acquainted with a large body of water. Huzzah! I miss the beach. It's almost nearing November...Mama is having her trip. Shucks, sucks to be alone but good thing I'm used to it, ne?

So this ends my blog update of my boxed life. And I'm off to make more icedtea and go back to writing that elusive lab report.