Brothers

Well. School ended.

All I could think about for weeks were the party hats and buckets of beer I'd celebrate with after finals. Crepe paper crowns and glorious party dresses and whatnot. I drove home after school, made a cd and then went to Marble where a leathery lesbian talked to me about potatoes under a heater lamp. If there's anything opposite to a bachelorette party, my finals celebratory night was it.

I-40 East near Grants.

Crazy town.

Brothers.

It's not every day you get to hold a brain. Maybe unless you're a production assistant on Red Asphalt XI. Or a brain surgeon. Oh, that reminds me, I made up a joke about a harp-playing spinal nerve doctor that I won't subject you to. You're welcome.

Is it strange to be delighted by normal life? Question marks, blah, anyway. El novio and I are going to the museum free day and then making bathtub kahlua at lucky's. And I threw out all my clothes again. Expect a long coming fashion post.

Word Salad

Ok. I don't want to leave that depressing me-screwing-up-(what's new?)-bad-grades post up top for too long. Here we go.

I got Mosh a new collar. His old one had the silhouette of a city skyline with the words "CITY KITTY" running across it and I was afraid it was giving some hobo he'd associate with the wrong impression of his general disposition. Maybe they'd think he's street smart and try to give him alcohol or something really bad for cats so I chose a collar with bumblebees flying around as a more age appropriate cat collar.

School is going pretty wonderful this week. I had two papers due and decided I didn't want to write them right away, late grade be damned, and somehow miraculously they've been pushed back 'til next week. I almost literally cannot believe my luck.

This show* was attended by curious personalities from the mid to late 90's. Like a generation of people who went to high school a decade before we did. They must be busy raising babies and whatnot because I never see them when I'm out having a great time. *already forgot who performed.

There are four "mean girls" in my program who keep to themselves. And there are three girls who believe in ghosts. There is one guy who I'd call uncomfortably Christian but he's been nice to me so far. There are three chain smokers. There are three mom-types. There are four who might be weird enough to be my friend. Five if you count the one who calls herself a certified priestess.

The amount of pimples I get is somehow increasing with age.

Look, guys! I Monk'd the condiment packets!!*

*Please take the Netflix instant tv stream away from me.

Veggie burgs at BK.

I guess I always assumed that by the time I was 26 talking to young kids (18 to 21) would feel disheartening. Like, wow, my peak party days are over. When I wake up after a debauched night, I literally say out loud "My joints hurt..." I can't be considered a brilliant young lady anymore by my parents' friends. I'm just a regular adult with very average adult problems. I get excited to go grocery shopping. WHERE'S MY YOUTH, YOUNG STRANGER WHO IS YET TO DISCOVER ALL THE WONDERFUL THINGS ABOUT YOUR EARLY 20's?!?!??!! But it turns out, I was completely wrong. More on that another time though.

This is on a skating trip with Marc to UNM. They've installed newfangled tables and chairs in bright colors that we shook our canes at for a while before realizing there is a cafeteria in Mitchell Hall now.

I had my Abnormal Psychology class in the Anthro building like midway between freshman year and second senior year (whoops). The teacher was a ditz but I truly liked the material and after almost every class I would read my notes out of genuine interest.

As we were decorating the front porch in spiderwebs for Halloween, I noticed this active wasp nest. In Pennsylvania, we'd call 'em 'yellow-jackets' but out here I've only heard the term 'wasp.' No big deal except I know the sounds of words have a significant impact on how I think about things.

When we first moved to New Mexico, I had a child-sized panic attack after finding out hoagies are called subs here and realized I didn't enjoy eating something called a 'sub' when 'hoagie' sounded so much cuter and tasty. Probably why I have a hard time with kidney beans, too. Marc has to hide them in the bottom of the grocery cart so I don't put them away for the canned baby peas. So cute!

We saw Built to Spill at Launchpad one night and I'm retarded and didn't take any photos save for this Pacman one. Sad face.

My Halloween pumpkin. It's a howling wolf.

We also made homemade lip balm and decorated the containers with crafty things. I made an extra one for Rye and since my mom found a weird kidney-shaped puffy sticker, I decorated the container with kidney memorabilia. Rye only has one and a half working kidneys because part of the other one got surgically removed when she was ten and I don't really know why except it really hurt her before she was diagnosed with whatever she had. Also, she's about a foot shorter than me and I always made fun of that but maybe it was because of her diseased kidney and look at me being a horrible older sister. I AM MAKING UP FOR IT ONE LIP BALM AT A TIME!

I told Marc to watch Dogtown and Z-Boys last Saturday. Other stuff bla bla bla this post is getting too long...

"NOW POSE LIKE KIERA KNIGHTLEY!!!!!!!!! CUTTTTEEERRRRR!!!"

I miss my girlfriends.

THIS SHOULD BE GOOD!! NOW I WON'T HAVE TO LOOK AT THAT 3.5 ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!! Homework burning party on December 9th, guys!

Notes from schooly wooly part 2

Procrastination week:

On Tuesday, I skipped Dr. Tackett's class under the guise of voting. I definitely could have gone to class and made it to the polls before it closed, but it was sunny and I wanted to sit in my backyard with the cats reading the paper so I left early. I haven't yet missed one class or lab this semester (totally foreign behavior for me (also, yay me!)) so skipping was morally a bigger deal than expected. I even came up with the opening sentence for this post, "Hey guys, I Lindsay Lohan'd this week at school, yuk yuk yuk," except that I did vote so my Lindsay Lohan'ing the system by actually doing what I claimed to be doing didn't make sense anymore and I couldn't accurately use my Lindsay Lohan sentence. Plus, that sentence sucked anyway.

Bad grades ahead. Not suitable for school-aged children.

Yikes. I almost literally could have answered every question with a question on this quiz and have gotten a better grade, but we're not talking about Philosophy 541, are we? This is a real fucking program.

And I haven't been handed back my other quizzes from Thursday but it's safe to assume they are just as pathetic as the 3.5. I wrote "inflammation of eye jello" on the medical term quiz dot dot dot double yikes.

I kept telling myself, "you have A's in your classes, man. One more drink at Gecko's won't hurt." "Hey man, Jessica wants to buy you a tiki drink downtown. Stop with the flash cards and put on that little party dress." (Ew, is my subconscious the spirit of Tom Petty??) and look at where that cocky attitude got me.

I even let myself watch John Candy movies. And I hate John Candy movies!*

Unbelievably, I like studying for my classes so the procrastination isn't a symptom of wrong me, wrong career choice. More likely I've been breaking my back getting A's and B's on everything and felt like my spoiled ass deserved a fucking break from studying eye jello. P.S. Figuring out the medical term for eye jello is on the top of my to do list. Jelz?

*hate is a strong word. More like, I appropriately dislike being reminded of the more crummy parts of my childhood** by John Candy movies.

**don't ask.

Hello, world. Meet what I like to call "eye jello".

I promise that this is a dissected cow eye, not an egg. The round yellow piece is the lens. The eye jello is the vitreous humor and the iridescent thing is OH I DON'T KNOW did I not make it clear that I did not study this last week?

Best part of procrastination week: hanging out with Hucklebay Rum at a horse ranch. Girls and horses!!! BEST FRIENDS FOREVER ANDDDD EVERRRRRRRR!!!

Notes from schooly wooly part 1

Midterms, you ask?

I was one of the five golden students who got an A on the A&P written exam. Take that you piece of shit girl who snort laughs when I have trouble injecting a dog with vaccines because I haven't been practicing veterinary medicine like you since I was 16. I ADMIT TO BEING SCARED OF BEING BITTEN IN THE FACE BY A 75 LB DOG, OKAY?

(Out of 60 obviously... although, even if it were 56 out of 100, it'd still be better than my pchem midterms. Womp womp. Sad face.)

I just want to note that there was a rotting dissected cow leg set out in front of me for most of the practical and I still did pretty damn well.

In the other lab practical one of the answers was "cat burrito." Here's proof. I'd explain it, but it'd take the fun out of everything.

Woo!

I have successfully memorized and defined one thousand twenty-five veterinary medical terms in two months. Giiirrllll power!!! My A on the midterm almost makes it worth the photos of broken horse penises I have to look at while studying equine pathology. Moving on... quickly...

I'd like to thank Moshe and Chompers for posing with my papers. Baby was too busy knocking my coffee over while chasing a fly... Cute faint.