pix can fly

I studied the lymphatic system yesterday morning before the sun shifted mountain shadows away from our bedroom window. I had curlers in my hair and a cat purring in my lap.

For the first time in my life I realized the what-why-how of a spleen. Then made some coffee and looked for my clean scrubs and that Topshop hoodie I keep forgetting to return to Claire (I've been taking really good care of it though. Washing it in cold water and laying flat to dry).

I finished reading Wil Wheaton's book Just A Geek a couple weeks ago and feel like punishing myself with something obscure and Victorian. Will probably just stick to extra long human interest stories in the paper.

We looked at blood smears in lab yesterday and on my search for a eosinophil I found a great clump of red blood cells that looked like inner tubes floating along a river. I imagined those lazy inner tubes floating along my own circulatory system. Relatedly, I got bummed out when we learned erythrocytes (Red Blood cells) can't undergo mitosis like they're couples who really want babies but who are infertile. The bone marrow is like the adoption agency though dot dot dot I can't write that on my midterm.

There's constantly this battle going on in my head whether I want to be healthy thin with small boobs or healthy chubby with bigger boobs which is what I am now. But I guess I don't have "big boobs" according to this girl with two foot long cleavage from the other night at yoda's house. We were in the privacy of the sidewalk shrubbery when I asked her to size me up. It's good to get 2nd opinions on that matter every other year.

I'm really happy abortion issues are stirring up in the real news, state government meetings and internet sites lately. Hopefully it'll lead to baby planning issues which will end up with religious debates and we'll all become atheists. The end.

After Marc's and my second to last fight and we weren't steaming at each other anymore, Marc brought the Tri-ominoes set into bed and we played a round together while I drank a raspberry lemonade mocktail. I just wanted to remember that for next time. (Reading back that first sentence, I wonder if I need to take a high school level english class.)

I found and read this Sid Vicious handwritten letter to Nancy and got all butthurt that Marc hasn't written me something this sweet/kinda gross but then he showed me a sweet/kinda gross postcard he never mailed me but wrote one night we were fighting but decided to go party with our friends anyway.

I thought this was Amy Winehouse, but it's Lady Gaga.

Ze end!