It's hard to fathom that Columbine is already 10 years past.
To me it seems like yesterday.
A lot of people can probably remember where they were when they heard the news. I don't. What I remember are the events before I was told. Events unfolding at the exact moment Harris and Klebold were carrying out their plan. Events that were pointing to a similar sinister event at my own school...
My 8th grade class shares 4th period history class with some seventh graders, and there is one particular kid I try to avoid (We will call him "Zane"). He is loud and obnoxious and tends to make threatening remarks to a lot of us. He tells racist jokes on my bus in the afternoons, and often tells me that if I don't shut up (and stop telling him not to tell the jokes) that he'll "make [me] shut up permanently." A few days ago he threatened to kill me when Danny caught him sticking tape on my back in the middle of Bible class and I shot him a nasty look. I ignored it, like everyone else, when he told us that he's writing a book called "10 Ways to Really Really Hurt Someone Without Killing Them." He hinted that Danny and I were some of the "someone"s. I refused to admit that it scared me a little.
So now it's 11:29, April 20, 1999. My friends and I laugh as we make our way to our usual seats in the far left corner of the room, by the wall with the map of the world on it. My desk is under Christmas island. I like that.
We are all totally unaware that Harris and Klebold are entering a school library with guns exactly 1,235 miles away.
11:32. The assault in the library and our bell rings as Mr. Harris (no relation) tries to get our class under control. Suddenly "Zane" stands up and starts singing,
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!..."
Mr. Harris is not amused. I roll my eyes and Emily and Jackie snicker.
"...HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HITLER!..."
No one is even remotely amused anymore, least of all Mr. Harris. "SIT DOWN!"
"...HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!!!!!" Zane plops back into his chair with a smirk and a high five from his only friend.
I am now actively seething in my desk. I don't remember what Mr. Harris said but I do know that "Zane" is not sent to the principal.
Minutes later the last victim is killed in Columbine and before class ends both Harris and Klebold are dead.
Lucky for my little school, my mother did not take as kindly to "Zane"'s song and threats as our teachers did. After calling my school twice the next day and getting the run-around, she threatens to call the news stations and finally gets acknowledged by the administration.
I am pulled out of third period by the school counselor. I nonchalantly recount "Zane"'s behavior in class and on the bus, giving the names of a couple other kids who have seen and heard his threats.
Come 7th period Bible class I am a little nervous when "Zane" plops down in his assigned seat behind me, but a few minutes before class ends the principal comes for him.
As we leave school for the day I see some adults clustered around "Zane"'s locker.
It turns out they found his book, along with several gun magazines, with several guns circled.
I don't know what he confessed to, but he was expelled from school. His accomplice came back the next year, apparently having become a turncoat. I was never quite comfortable around the accomplice, though...and was super nice to him for the next four years.
We had a fire drill at some point during his mess of threats, after the school shooting involving a fake fire drill, and I remember everyone walking calmly to the doors and then stopping en masse, afraid to go outside. I spent the whole time we were out there, looking around in the trees, between the student's cars, and on top of the building.
And so every year, on the anniversary of Columbine, I remember all the kids who died, and all ones who didn't. I feel a weird connection to them, devouring their biographies, attending lectures by their family members, doing research projects on the shooters and prevention.
It's weird to wonder how close we came. To wonder if "Zane" really meant anything he said or if he just wanted attention.
It's worth it to never know.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
My new favorite definition of when life begins
Forget the love affair with machines. (which I find ridiculous and dangerous for all my trauma patients)
This guy says "I do not consider any being to be alive until it can exist on its own. What I mean is that a fetus is not a living being until its umbilical cord has been cut.... "
Which was news to me.
I had no idea the screaming, squirming thing that was making angry faces at me while I tried to help wipe it clean was, in fact, not alive....all because it's dad was fidgiting with a pair of scissors, never having been told how thick and slimy the umbilical cord would be.
It's scary when dead things are so vocal!
This guy says "I do not consider any being to be alive until it can exist on its own. What I mean is that a fetus is not a living being until its umbilical cord has been cut.... "
Which was news to me.
I had no idea the screaming, squirming thing that was making angry faces at me while I tried to help wipe it clean was, in fact, not alive....all because it's dad was fidgiting with a pair of scissors, never having been told how thick and slimy the umbilical cord would be.
It's scary when dead things are so vocal!
Friday, April 17, 2009
What if?
With my xanga excursions into the great unknown, I've had my faith challenged/assaulted again and again...and again. And I won't lie, it made me question.
I have no problem with people knowing.
Because doubt can lead to critical thinking.
Questions are good. Always good.
Because when you listen to the assaults by logic and experience etc. it's like a hurricane coming by and beating your house into shambles.
How the heck can that be a good thing?
Well, because you either have to live in a heap of trash or you have rebuild. And in rebuilding you are able to make all the weak areas strong. Stronger than they were before. And you understand a little more about how your house functions and how you can maintain it and keep it from falling into shambles all on it's own later down the road.
That's what I've been working on. Today I went to the human trafficking awareness rally, which was something I hadn't done since undergrad, and was possibly something I never would have done again, had I not been actively looking for ways to "rebuild my house."
Well tonight I heard one of my favorite lyricists, Nichole Nordeman (I don't have favorite singers, because I could care less if they just stood there and recited their lyrics to no music), and I was like "Aha! Yes! That is how I feel!" (Which is often what she makes me do, which is why I love her). Even though I'd heard the song before, this time it made the connect:
What if you're right?
And he was just another nice guy
What if you're right?
What if it's true?
They say the cross will only make a fool of you
And what if it's true?
What if he takes his place in history
With all the prophets and the kings
Who taught us love and came in peace
But then the story ends
What then?
But what if you're wrong?
What if there's more?
What if there's hope we never dreamed of hoping for?
What if I jump?
And just close my eyes?
What if the arms that catch us, catch us by surprise?
What if He's more than enough?
What if it's love?
What if I dig?
Way down deeper than my simple-minded friends
What if I dig?
What if I find
A thousand more unanswered questions down inside
That's all I find?
What if they pick apart the logic
And begin to poke the holes
What if the crown of thorns is no more
Than folklore that must be told and retold?
But what if you're wrong?
What if there's more?
What if there's hope you never dreamed of hoping for?
What if you jump?
And just close your eyes?
What if the arms that catch you, catch you by surprise?
What if He's more than enough?
What if it's love?
You've been running as fast as you can
You've been looking for a place you can land for so long
But what if you're wrong?
--What If?
I have no problem with people knowing.
Because doubt can lead to critical thinking.
Questions are good. Always good.
Because when you listen to the assaults by logic and experience etc. it's like a hurricane coming by and beating your house into shambles.
How the heck can that be a good thing?
Well, because you either have to live in a heap of trash or you have rebuild. And in rebuilding you are able to make all the weak areas strong. Stronger than they were before. And you understand a little more about how your house functions and how you can maintain it and keep it from falling into shambles all on it's own later down the road.
That's what I've been working on. Today I went to the human trafficking awareness rally, which was something I hadn't done since undergrad, and was possibly something I never would have done again, had I not been actively looking for ways to "rebuild my house."
Well tonight I heard one of my favorite lyricists, Nichole Nordeman (I don't have favorite singers, because I could care less if they just stood there and recited their lyrics to no music), and I was like "Aha! Yes! That is how I feel!" (Which is often what she makes me do, which is why I love her). Even though I'd heard the song before, this time it made the connect:
What if you're right?
And he was just another nice guy
What if you're right?
What if it's true?
They say the cross will only make a fool of you
And what if it's true?
What if he takes his place in history
With all the prophets and the kings
Who taught us love and came in peace
But then the story ends
What then?
But what if you're wrong?
What if there's more?
What if there's hope we never dreamed of hoping for?
What if I jump?
And just close my eyes?
What if the arms that catch us, catch us by surprise?
What if He's more than enough?
What if it's love?
What if I dig?
Way down deeper than my simple-minded friends
What if I dig?
What if I find
A thousand more unanswered questions down inside
That's all I find?
What if they pick apart the logic
And begin to poke the holes
What if the crown of thorns is no more
Than folklore that must be told and retold?
But what if you're wrong?
What if there's more?
What if there's hope you never dreamed of hoping for?
What if you jump?
And just close your eyes?
What if the arms that catch you, catch you by surprise?
What if He's more than enough?
What if it's love?
You've been running as fast as you can
You've been looking for a place you can land for so long
But what if you're wrong?
--What If?
Thursday, April 16, 2009
"I worry about when you're trying to raise your kids"
"It's so much worse now than even when I was growing up. I can't imagine what it will be like by the time you're grown and trying to raise kids."
I remember this, and other similar comments, being made to me during my childhood. I thought they were a little odd, after all, my life was pretty grand. What did they mean it ws worse now? Worse how? Didn't all the adults live back in the time of ice boxes, water closets, and dinosaurs?
But now I'm right there with them. I too am worrying about trying to raise kids in the upcoming years.
Heck, I'm worried about myself living in our current year!
I remember reading the Left Behind kid's series when I was in jr high, circa 1998. There was paragraph that mentioned how one of them turned on the tv and all the tv shows were graphic and out of control. I wondered how long it would be until that came true. The answer was: not long. After all, we now have The Bachelor where men date (and often have sex with) multiple girls at once...and he's hailed a "good catch"! And The Girls Next Door, which celebrates the dehumanizing and objectifying of the female gender (under the guise of "empowerment" of course...apparently women are as stupid as they are stereotyped to be). Not to mention blatant mind rotting like Rock of Love and the utter gore that is the Saw series.
And of course, the TV is not my main concern. It's easy enough to not own a television, or not get cable. That takes care of that.
Then we have the fact that children are now considered smart enough to raise themselves. There's the Canadian man who was actually sued (successfully) by his 12 year old daughter when he grounded her for misusing the internet. The internet he fricking paid for, in the house he pays for her to live in! I would never have dreamed of such a thing. My mom used to tell me that if I didn't like the rules, or getting spanked: "Here's the phone, call children's services." Like hell I was going to do that!
And then of course, there is the new fad of "sexting" and kids being far too promiscuous and unmonitored in general. I'm so sorry your hormones are running rampant and it's cramping your style not to go have sex with anything that walks, but you are more than capable to keep it in your pants. I don't buy this "oh the poor kids just can't help it." Bullshit. They can help it, they just don't want to. It's the same reason half our nation has a BMI of five zillion.
Here's the real kicker: I am the bad guy (and intolerant, and an "extremist," and ethnocentric) for saying people shouldn't let their kids play Grand Theft Auto or have sex, but anyone who thinks the opposite is completely allowed to tell me that I should let my kids do these things. Heck, they even make laws about it.
It's a complete double standard and one of the many many reasons I don't like people.
If you don't want me telling you how to raise your kids, you sure as hell had never tell me how to raise mine. Let alone go making f***ing laws about it.
And that is why I have joined the ever-diminishing group of people who worry about our future, aside from whether or not we'll be able to afford the new plasma TV.
I remember this, and other similar comments, being made to me during my childhood. I thought they were a little odd, after all, my life was pretty grand. What did they mean it ws worse now? Worse how? Didn't all the adults live back in the time of ice boxes, water closets, and dinosaurs?
But now I'm right there with them. I too am worrying about trying to raise kids in the upcoming years.
Heck, I'm worried about myself living in our current year!
I remember reading the Left Behind kid's series when I was in jr high, circa 1998. There was paragraph that mentioned how one of them turned on the tv and all the tv shows were graphic and out of control. I wondered how long it would be until that came true. The answer was: not long. After all, we now have The Bachelor where men date (and often have sex with) multiple girls at once...and he's hailed a "good catch"! And The Girls Next Door, which celebrates the dehumanizing and objectifying of the female gender (under the guise of "empowerment" of course...apparently women are as stupid as they are stereotyped to be). Not to mention blatant mind rotting like Rock of Love and the utter gore that is the Saw series.
And of course, the TV is not my main concern. It's easy enough to not own a television, or not get cable. That takes care of that.
Then we have the fact that children are now considered smart enough to raise themselves. There's the Canadian man who was actually sued (successfully) by his 12 year old daughter when he grounded her for misusing the internet. The internet he fricking paid for, in the house he pays for her to live in! I would never have dreamed of such a thing. My mom used to tell me that if I didn't like the rules, or getting spanked: "Here's the phone, call children's services." Like hell I was going to do that!
And then of course, there is the new fad of "sexting" and kids being far too promiscuous and unmonitored in general. I'm so sorry your hormones are running rampant and it's cramping your style not to go have sex with anything that walks, but you are more than capable to keep it in your pants. I don't buy this "oh the poor kids just can't help it." Bullshit. They can help it, they just don't want to. It's the same reason half our nation has a BMI of five zillion.
Here's the real kicker: I am the bad guy (and intolerant, and an "extremist," and ethnocentric) for saying people shouldn't let their kids play Grand Theft Auto or have sex, but anyone who thinks the opposite is completely allowed to tell me that I should let my kids do these things. Heck, they even make laws about it.
It's a complete double standard and one of the many many reasons I don't like people.
If you don't want me telling you how to raise your kids, you sure as hell had never tell me how to raise mine. Let alone go making f***ing laws about it.
And that is why I have joined the ever-diminishing group of people who worry about our future, aside from whether or not we'll be able to afford the new plasma TV.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Something for my shrink. If I had one.
I don't like people. But I like fixing them. I like taking care of them. Why? I could hypothecize a lot of things which are probably very true, but cast me in an exceptionally bad light, so I don't want to think of them.
I like the idea of liking people.
I do.
I like the idea of being this kind, gentle Mother Theresa person.
But then someone says or does something idiotic and I turn into Mussolini.
99% of the people I know in real life would say I'm a nice person.
99% of the people who know me online would say I am not a nice person.
So which is it? Which is the real me and which is the front? Or could it be both?
I don't know.
What I do know is that I can not see the old man struggling to get out of his hospital bed and not rush to make sure he doesn't fall.
I can not see the young woman lashing out at her caretakers because her mother has died and not spend extra time trying to make her as comfortable as possible.
I can not pass an accident or a crying woman in the hallway and not stop.I can not have the preschooler with the most psychological problems in my class and not want to take him home and shower him with love.
I can not see the man making all the wrong decisions while wishing desperately he could be a hero and not root for him (ok, that one is Sylar from Heroes but I wish it was real life)
But I also know that I can't see lies being spread without contradicting them. Forcefully.
I can't watch people cling to double standards without playing devil's advocate in some attempt to make them see their hypocrisy.
I can't watch while people misrepresent Christ and the Church without running them over with a steamroller of scientific facts and Scripture references.
I can't listen to people whining about some piddly rights of their own being violated without screaming about the injustices around the world that we choose to ignore every day.
Or I suppose I could refrain from all of those things.
But I would be dead inside.
I like the idea of liking people.
I do.
I like the idea of being this kind, gentle Mother Theresa person.
But then someone says or does something idiotic and I turn into Mussolini.
99% of the people I know in real life would say I'm a nice person.
99% of the people who know me online would say I am not a nice person.
So which is it? Which is the real me and which is the front? Or could it be both?
I don't know.
What I do know is that I can not see the old man struggling to get out of his hospital bed and not rush to make sure he doesn't fall.
I can not see the young woman lashing out at her caretakers because her mother has died and not spend extra time trying to make her as comfortable as possible.
I can not pass an accident or a crying woman in the hallway and not stop.I can not have the preschooler with the most psychological problems in my class and not want to take him home and shower him with love.
I can not see the man making all the wrong decisions while wishing desperately he could be a hero and not root for him (ok, that one is Sylar from Heroes but I wish it was real life)
But I also know that I can't see lies being spread without contradicting them. Forcefully.
I can't watch people cling to double standards without playing devil's advocate in some attempt to make them see their hypocrisy.
I can't watch while people misrepresent Christ and the Church without running them over with a steamroller of scientific facts and Scripture references.
I can't listen to people whining about some piddly rights of their own being violated without screaming about the injustices around the world that we choose to ignore every day.
Or I suppose I could refrain from all of those things.
But I would be dead inside.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Taxes are unconstitutional
So I was making dinner (which is apparently like prime time for thinking...must be because it takes less mental energy to make tuna than do drug calculations) and I realized: taxes are unconstitutional.
Why?
Well, at least part of taxes goes to welfare, which is supposed to take care of needy people.
And it's unconstitutional to legislate morality (at least according to the majority of Americans).
You are legislating morality by saying I have to take care of those less fortunate than me.
Therefore, taxes are unconstitutional.
Voila. Dinner is served.
Why?
Well, at least part of taxes goes to welfare, which is supposed to take care of needy people.
And it's unconstitutional to legislate morality (at least according to the majority of Americans).
You are legislating morality by saying I have to take care of those less fortunate than me.
Therefore, taxes are unconstitutional.
Voila. Dinner is served.
Friday, April 10, 2009
"Growing up too fast" or "My daughter is a slut"
I'm watching Dr. Phil and these parents....geesh. http://www.drphil.com/shows/show/1223/
First of all, their 14 year old is dressing like every other 14 year old I see. Granted, I personally think they dress too old, but that doesn't automatically mean
"slutty."
Second: if you hate what she wears DON'T BUY THE CLOTHES!!! She's 14 for crying out loud, she's not old enough to have a job. If she gets them somewhere else it's easy enough to take it to Goodwill or pouring bleach on them and throwing them in the garbage.
I personally think the bigger problem is the 12 year old they allow to act like a 6 year old (mimicking everything her sister says in a fight for instance) but hold on a pedestal. They keep showing her smirking in the audience. She's a little attention whore, that's what she is.
And why is Dr. Phil not paying any attention to the 14 year old saying she feels she's stupid? All he said was "So do you think, then, that maybe you're too dumb to realize you're doing the wrong thing?" WTF?!?!?! Are you kidding? Who the heck gave you your degree!?!?!
I swear. I understand parenting is difficult, but most people make it harder than it needs to be. My mom had severe anxiety that kept her bedridden most of the time and my father traveled for business fequently and they still did a bang-up job.
How?
Spanking for blatant rebellion and lying.
Swearing = soap in the mouth
No TV until High School.
No radio/non-Christian music until High School.
No fashion magazines until High School.
No makeup before 16.
Strict dress code until college: shorts had to come to fingertips, no spaghetti straps, no cleavage
My parents had to meet my friends parents before we were allowed to hang out outside of school
Focus on schoolwork
Quality time spent talking to me about my choices regarding friends and life in general.
Chores
Church on a fairly regular basis.
...for starters
Did they make mistakes? Of course. But I never even fantasized about half the stuff kids and teenagers do today.
How did we wind up with such a high rate of teen pregnancy and STDs?
Anorexic preteens??
Abusive 8 year olds?
6 year olds who know more swear words than I do at 23?
The same reason we have 3 year olds who are obese:
Absent parents and an irresponsible community/nation.
That's how.
First of all, their 14 year old is dressing like every other 14 year old I see. Granted, I personally think they dress too old, but that doesn't automatically mean
"slutty."
Second: if you hate what she wears DON'T BUY THE CLOTHES!!! She's 14 for crying out loud, she's not old enough to have a job. If she gets them somewhere else it's easy enough to take it to Goodwill or pouring bleach on them and throwing them in the garbage.
I personally think the bigger problem is the 12 year old they allow to act like a 6 year old (mimicking everything her sister says in a fight for instance) but hold on a pedestal. They keep showing her smirking in the audience. She's a little attention whore, that's what she is.
And why is Dr. Phil not paying any attention to the 14 year old saying she feels she's stupid? All he said was "So do you think, then, that maybe you're too dumb to realize you're doing the wrong thing?" WTF?!?!?! Are you kidding? Who the heck gave you your degree!?!?!
I swear. I understand parenting is difficult, but most people make it harder than it needs to be. My mom had severe anxiety that kept her bedridden most of the time and my father traveled for business fequently and they still did a bang-up job.
How?
Spanking for blatant rebellion and lying.
Swearing = soap in the mouth
No TV until High School.
No radio/non-Christian music until High School.
No fashion magazines until High School.
No makeup before 16.
Strict dress code until college: shorts had to come to fingertips, no spaghetti straps, no cleavage
My parents had to meet my friends parents before we were allowed to hang out outside of school
Focus on schoolwork
Quality time spent talking to me about my choices regarding friends and life in general.
Chores
Church on a fairly regular basis.
...for starters
Did they make mistakes? Of course. But I never even fantasized about half the stuff kids and teenagers do today.
How did we wind up with such a high rate of teen pregnancy and STDs?
Anorexic preteens??
Abusive 8 year olds?
6 year olds who know more swear words than I do at 23?
The same reason we have 3 year olds who are obese:
Absent parents and an irresponsible community/nation.
That's how.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
If humans are so smart...
...why do they still believe anything politicians say?
*mumbles about moving off to my hermit cave in Tishmakatukiluki*
*mumbles about moving off to my hermit cave in Tishmakatukiluki*
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Bad American
So until 2 minutes ago when I read a headline on CNN.com I had completely forgotten who the VP was. I saw "Joe Biden says..." and I thought Gee, that name sounds familiar.
I'm pretty convinced that, prior to seeing the headline, had someone asked me "who's the vice president of the United States" I would have been like "Duh, it's..........uhh......oh shit."
But I do know what to do when a pregnant woman presents with eclampsia, and really, which is more important?
I'm pretty convinced that, prior to seeing the headline, had someone asked me "who's the vice president of the United States" I would have been like "Duh, it's..........uhh......oh shit."
But I do know what to do when a pregnant woman presents with eclampsia, and really, which is more important?
Monday, April 6, 2009
I *heart* Shawn
Shawn Johnson that is.
(My obsession with DWTS continues)
She is just so graceful and cute :) Plus, I love that she isn't a little stick-skinny girl. She has muscles and a body. Proving you don't have to have an 18 inch waist to be beautiful.
(My obsession with DWTS continues)
She is just so graceful and cute :) Plus, I love that she isn't a little stick-skinny girl. She has muscles and a body. Proving you don't have to have an 18 inch waist to be beautiful.
Quippy t-shirts provide me with plenty of inspiration
As I was cooking dinner (angel hair with sundried tomatoe pesto and feta cheese, angelic indeed!), I contemplated the quip “Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that they’re not out to get you.” Which is based on the premise that just because you don’t have good reasoning, doesn’t necessarily mean you are wrong.
For instance. If I said that the sky is blue because I painted it that way….well, I would be wrong about the reason, but the sky is still blue. If someone said you should wear your seatbelt so you don’t get into an accident…..well, just because seat belts don’t prevent accidents doesn’t mean you should wear one.
The premise is correct, regardless of your reasoning.
This is my basic approach to life: that truth is truth regardless of who says it or what reasons they give for it.
Recently I read in a xanga entry that “God loves gays because He is gay.” Well clearly I disagree with the second half, but that didn’t do anything to negate the first half.
But there are a lot of people out there who will disregard any and all of your beliefs simply because they don’t like your reasoning. Of course, these are the people who believe there’s such a thing as proof, in which case they are waiting for you to find that proof and present it to them. I say proof doesn’t exist, therefore I don’t need any of your evidence for or against something. Either it’s true or it’s not.
And evidence lies (contrary to what CSI would have you believe). How many times were you convinced by the evidence of something that wasn’t true? Most people have had at least one significant other that they were convinced (through their SO’s words and actions) loved them….and it turned out they were wrong.
And you may be thinking “What a crock. This girl is an idiot. Of course you need some sort of evidence to believe something.”
And to that I say, “Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that they’re not out to get you.”
For instance. If I said that the sky is blue because I painted it that way….well, I would be wrong about the reason, but the sky is still blue. If someone said you should wear your seatbelt so you don’t get into an accident…..well, just because seat belts don’t prevent accidents doesn’t mean you should wear one.
The premise is correct, regardless of your reasoning.
This is my basic approach to life: that truth is truth regardless of who says it or what reasons they give for it.
Recently I read in a xanga entry that “God loves gays because He is gay.” Well clearly I disagree with the second half, but that didn’t do anything to negate the first half.
But there are a lot of people out there who will disregard any and all of your beliefs simply because they don’t like your reasoning. Of course, these are the people who believe there’s such a thing as proof, in which case they are waiting for you to find that proof and present it to them. I say proof doesn’t exist, therefore I don’t need any of your evidence for or against something. Either it’s true or it’s not.
And evidence lies (contrary to what CSI would have you believe). How many times were you convinced by the evidence of something that wasn’t true? Most people have had at least one significant other that they were convinced (through their SO’s words and actions) loved them….and it turned out they were wrong.
And you may be thinking “What a crock. This girl is an idiot. Of course you need some sort of evidence to believe something.”
And to that I say, “Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that they’re not out to get you.”
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Google trends
Weirdness:
Top queries
1. xanga icons
2. apa
3. gainesville library
4. winn dixie
5. rave theatre
6. alias
7. cincinnati childrens hospital
8. littman
9. twilight
10. steven curtis chapman
I really don't remember searching for "alias" that much...
Top queries
1. xanga icons
2. apa
3. gainesville library
4. winn dixie
5. rave theatre
6. alias
7. cincinnati childrens hospital
8. littman
9. twilight
10. steven curtis chapman
I really don't remember searching for "alias" that much...
Friday, April 3, 2009
My roommate is making me hate all smokers by association....even though I know that's wrong
Backstory:
She's technically an illegal roommate, meaning she is living with one of my other roommates in violation of the rent agreement. She got reported and they covered it up so she's still here. That's a whole other bag of worms.
Well, one of the tell-tale signs of her living here was that the grounds crew kept finding a large pile of cigarette butts underneath our balcony, and the grounds have designated smoking areas. Our balcony is not one of them.
So....
The last week our kitchen has been rancid with the smell of cigarette smoke.
Granted, I'm super sensitive to it, being allergic to it and all.
I traced it to the garbage can but didn't want to paw through the nasty mess in search of evidence so I merely doused the thing with bleach and moved it out of the kitchen, hoping someone would get the message.
Today:
I'm cooking, trying to hold my breath and trying not to think about my family history of lung cancer, my lack of health insurance, my expired inhaler, or my tickly burning airways...when I find a butt sitting there on top of the garbage.
I wanted to storm into the room and shake her like a rag doll.
We'd already had one discussion about how I was allergic and preferred her not to smoke right outside our door, which never quite sunk in.
Also, I'm flipping paying for her rent and utilities, while she slowly kills me with second and third hand smoke.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
So I finally knock on their door and here's the actual conversation:
Me: Uh, hey, are you throwing cigarette butts into the kitchen garbage can?
Culpit: *sits up and stares at me*
Me: *waits*
Sister of culprit: Yeah, why? *without looking up from video game*
Culprit: *still staring like a deer in the headlights*
Me: Well, because the whole kitchen smells and *I look right at the culprit* I'm allergic to cigarette smoke...
Sister of culprit: Ok.
Me: ...and it's making me sick so I was just hoping you could not do that anymore.
Sister of culprit: We can do that. *still not looking up*
Culprit: *Still staring silently*
Me: Ok, well, uh, thanks.
????????????
"Why?" !??!?!?!?!
Why do you think? This is a non-smoking apartment, I've discussed my health issues before, I should not be subjected to your self-destructive habits!!!!!!!!!!!! If you want to poison yourself that's your business, but you damn well better make sure I don't suffer from it!
I really wish I could, like, have an asthma attack in the kitchen, die, get her charged with manslaughter....and then come back to life.
Or at least give her a really vivid dream of such a scenario.
I am so angry right now.
She's technically an illegal roommate, meaning she is living with one of my other roommates in violation of the rent agreement. She got reported and they covered it up so she's still here. That's a whole other bag of worms.
Well, one of the tell-tale signs of her living here was that the grounds crew kept finding a large pile of cigarette butts underneath our balcony, and the grounds have designated smoking areas. Our balcony is not one of them.
So....
The last week our kitchen has been rancid with the smell of cigarette smoke.
Granted, I'm super sensitive to it, being allergic to it and all.
I traced it to the garbage can but didn't want to paw through the nasty mess in search of evidence so I merely doused the thing with bleach and moved it out of the kitchen, hoping someone would get the message.
Today:
I'm cooking, trying to hold my breath and trying not to think about my family history of lung cancer, my lack of health insurance, my expired inhaler, or my tickly burning airways...when I find a butt sitting there on top of the garbage.
I wanted to storm into the room and shake her like a rag doll.
We'd already had one discussion about how I was allergic and preferred her not to smoke right outside our door, which never quite sunk in.
Also, I'm flipping paying for her rent and utilities, while she slowly kills me with second and third hand smoke.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
So I finally knock on their door and here's the actual conversation:
Me: Uh, hey, are you throwing cigarette butts into the kitchen garbage can?
Culpit: *sits up and stares at me*
Me: *waits*
Sister of culprit: Yeah, why? *without looking up from video game*
Culprit: *still staring like a deer in the headlights*
Me: Well, because the whole kitchen smells and *I look right at the culprit* I'm allergic to cigarette smoke...
Sister of culprit: Ok.
Me: ...and it's making me sick so I was just hoping you could not do that anymore.
Sister of culprit: We can do that. *still not looking up*
Culprit: *Still staring silently*
Me: Ok, well, uh, thanks.
????????????
"Why?" !??!?!?!?!
Why do you think? This is a non-smoking apartment, I've discussed my health issues before, I should not be subjected to your self-destructive habits!!!!!!!!!!!! If you want to poison yourself that's your business, but you damn well better make sure I don't suffer from it!
I really wish I could, like, have an asthma attack in the kitchen, die, get her charged with manslaughter....and then come back to life.
Or at least give her a really vivid dream of such a scenario.
I am so angry right now.
78 days
1 day to OB exam
5 days to summer registration
11 days till final project is due
12 days to HESI
20 days till book report is due
25 days to OB final
27 days to psych final
28 days to pinning
39 days to the start of Practicum
and 78 days until it is all over! YES!
5 days to summer registration
11 days till final project is due
12 days to HESI
20 days till book report is due
25 days to OB final
27 days to psych final
28 days to pinning
39 days to the start of Practicum
and 78 days until it is all over! YES!
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Shredded lady bits = not my forte
I saw a vagina explode today.
I wanted to die.
Clearly midwifery is not for me.
Give me leaking head wounds.
Give me amputated limbs.
Give me gun shots to the groin.
Give me steel poles through the abdomen.
Give me car crashes, near drownings, animal bites...
But do not ask me to help birth a baby.
*shudders*
This is why I work in a Peds ER.
I wanted to die.
Clearly midwifery is not for me.
Give me leaking head wounds.
Give me amputated limbs.
Give me gun shots to the groin.
Give me steel poles through the abdomen.
Give me car crashes, near drownings, animal bites...
But do not ask me to help birth a baby.
*shudders*
This is why I work in a Peds ER.
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