It’s Not So ȼƟɱƿᶅɘẋ

Yeah, it’s been a long time since I updated last. If you know anything about me, you know just about the only thing I can keep up to date is my Facebook.

That said, it’s certainly been an interesting year thus far, both positively and negatively. Today is Aly’s birthday, which signifies a lot besides the obvious, “You’ve survived to see another year.” As the last one of my core group of friends to turn 21, she signifies a milestone in all of our relationships: The coming-of-age story of our maturity–maturity being a relative and loosely used term, especially when describing us.

It’s our last year. We’re done. We’ve made it (mostly).

The eight of us living in the apartment this year have never been closer (physically and emotionally), but it’s also the closest we ever will be. Call me a cynic; I usually agree, but I’m only being realistic now. After this year, it’s finally time to go our separate ways–for some, after over a decade of knowing each other. Finally our age isn’t going to determine where we are in our lives, after having our age synonymous with our educational status (“Oh, you’re 22? Are you a senior or a super-senior?”). Some of us have no idea what we’re going to do, some are going to graduate school at MSU, some are finding programs at other universities, some are just going to find a job: We all have different paths.

Mine? My path is roadblocked. Until my primary application is reviewed and I begin getting secondary applications and (hopefully) the interviews that follow, I sit patiently in a terrible med-school-purgatory. The question always asked is, even by the medical schools themselves, “What do you plan on doing if you don’t get in?” I hate this question. I hate thinking about this question. Medicine has always been my choice, and I’ve always felt confident enough that I now don’t realistically have a safety net to fall back on. Fortunately, things are still looking up, but the future remains to be seen.

No, really. I’ve always been a fan of PALM products, but I’ve just about had it with this flagship product. Palm is quickly going down, partially due to the iPhone, but mostly due to the fact that it’s still making inferior products. Forgive me for the rant, but I’m about to receive my third Palm Centro in less than a year, and I still need to take it in as soon as I get it.

My first Centro was SOLD to me brand new with a dead/broken pixel on the screen..

My second Centro lasted the bulk of this time. I had only been having small issues getting the down button to work, and I eventually didn’t even notice. After Bonnaroo, though, the up, down, and center keys finally kicked the bucket all together.

With a little luck, I was able to get a refurbished Centro for $37. Unfortunately, they would only send it to Toledo for me, so I’ve been using my mom’s (lovely) pink Centro for the past week. I’ll get it tomorrow when Aly comes to visit.

YET, as soon as I get this new phone, I’ll be taking it in to the local Sprint store. Why? Because it was sold to me with a blown speaker, which listening to will get really old, really fast.

Fuck you, Sprint. Fuck you, Palm. My next phone is an iPhone or a Nokia.

I’m tired of it.

I don’t care if you’re joking with me or not anymore, you may as well be calling me a faggot to my face when you say I’m emo. Not only is it incredibly rude, but it clearly states to me that you have absolutely no idea who I am or what I’m about. What it says to me is that in the time you’ve known me, you can’t seem to draw yourself beyond the way I’ve chosen to style my hair and the way I’ve complimented my face with piercings. If you really want to persist using the term about me, you won’t be using it with me anymore because I’ll be done with your ass in an instant.

—-That was the main topic. Everything further is simply ranting.

Same topic (in my mind), but if I’ve only recently met you–let’s say hypothetically twice, shall we?–I don’t think it’s very appropriate to touch me when I don’t want to be and make it clear that I don’t want to be. If you think you’re being cute, you’re not. If I say I want to swerve my car into a pole to make you stop, chances are that I really do and you should probably step off. More importantly, since when was it a good idea to physically bother someone while they’re trying to not crash you into a pole in the first place? Types of physical contact that are NOT OKAY when I barely know you include, but are not limited to, grabbing my face or chin, grabbing my sides, or poking my stomach.

Same topic, again, but as many people are already aware, if you say something stupid, I’m going to look at you funny until you figure it out yourself. If you say something wrong, I’ll correct you because it bothers me when someone is generally misinformed. And if you say something sarcastic, why shouldn’t I say a cutting remark right back to? Why does it give you a right to get offended by something I say if you’re the one that prompted me? Maybe this goes back to the topic of stupidity because apparently some people just don’t realize the mechanism or effects of sarcasm. I’ll be happy to enlighten you should you try it with me.

And as for the gay community! I don’t often hang out with other gay guys because it’s nearly impossible to keep anything platonic. A recent case comes to mind where I specifically told someone that I was interested in seriously dating someone I had been seeing for quite some time. Rather than honoring this fact, they’ve chosen to forget it or ignore it and continue to pursue me, regardless. Who do they think I am? If I’m interested in taking a serious step with someone else, then I’m most certainly not interested in you.

As a final word on these certain matters, I’d also like to point out that no one else dictates my schedule but me. If you can’t respect my need to study for MCATs, or can’t get the hint when I don’t want to be bothered, then maybe you should stop calling all together. I hate phones anyway because of the (ever climbing) number of stalkers I’ve had over the years. However, I don’t nearly hate phones as much as when I decide to answer a call only to have someone on the other line with absolutely nothing to talk about. This was the exact reason I got rid of my last boyfriend, so tread cautiously.

So far this summer, it’s been absolutely fantastic. I have tons of free time, the weather is beautiful, I’m living on my own, and I’m slowly getting my MCAT studying in order. I’m almost out of money, though! I haven’t had a job since April, and it’s really starting to hurt my bank account to provide myself with food day-to-day. Fortunately, once I get back from Bonnaroo, I have a job to come back to that pays $8/hr (not too shabby). Unfortunately, it’s not until after I get BACK from Bonnaroo, which is going to be my largest money-sap this summer. Gas to Tennessee alone is going to cost each of us $60 alone. Once we get there, we’ll need ice every once in a while (once a day, I think should do), food so we don’t have to travel back to the camp to get it, and band/’roo merchandise! Completely random, but I should probably use some of my tanning packages before going to Bonnaroo so I don’t get the shit burnt out of me!

In the meantime, I at least have training this upcoming week, so I certainly won’t be (as) bored. Still need to take my broken Rock Band guitar to the UPS store and get that the hell out of here. I’m pretty sure EA puts a $125 hold on my checking account until they receive it, so I should really get on that…

On that note, where the hell is my Macbook Pro!? I’m gonna bust a cap in Apple after all this BS they’ve put me through. After my experiences with them, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were trying to fix my old one and pawn it off to me as brand new. Whatever, I would totally make it a lawsuit at that point.

Back to the topic of lacking money, though: Even after I start working, I don’t have too much money to look forward to. There’s a total of 114 shifts between all of us working for this summer, which equates out to about 9 shifts a person for the entire summer. Not too much money. I can’t really apply for another job, though, because come August my other two jobs start up again. Companies really don’t want to hire someone that’s going to disappear when the fall semester rolls around. I don’t necessarily need to tell them that during an interview, but I personally don’t believe in lying to an employer like that. I’ll have to figure something out soon!

My life is finally getting there, at least. It’s amazing what a little research and persistence can bring you. A few months ago, I was simply a Human Biology major with no real idea of what to do for med school, no idea what I was doing next year, and no idea how I was going to cope with my future course load.

That’s when I first decided to minor in Bioethics, Humanities, and Society. I made the initial decision quite some time ago, but it was never really official until I paid a visit to the advisor to sign up. The initial meeting was very short; I listed out what I planned on taking for the next two years, she showed me a couple fliers regarding study abroad, and I went on my way. At approximately the same time this transition was happening, I also became aware that the curriculum for my major had changed (for the better, actually!). No longer did I have to take Biochemistry I and II; instead I would be taking Basic Biochemistry. No longer would I suffer through Physiology I and II; instead I would be taking Physiology for Pre-Health Professionals: A one semester, low-stress class.

Suddenly, the schedule I had planned out for the next two years was being thrown out the window. All of the time and thought I put into my courses with my advisor was useless. More importantly, I was left with a couple holes to fill in my schedule.

That’s when I did my research. I realized with only two additional courses, I would be able to ALSO minor in Health Promotion. Finally, my schedule was getting back to its fullest, and I was starting to look more and more impressive to med schools as I went.

And that is when I realized. Two of the classes I was planning on taking are offered over the summer in London. I barely had thought about it when my advisor initially told me about the trip, but suddenly it seemed more and more practical to do! Finally, I decided I would be taking my trip to London in the summer of 2009, regardless of tricky financial situations.

So I’m an Honors Human Biology major with a minor in Bioethics, Humanities, and Society and a minor in Health Promotion with study abroad experience in London. It’s a mouthful, and it’s fantastic.

It’s very rare that I have a memorable dream, let alone a vivid and realistic one.

The setting, obvious to me, is on campus at Mason-Abbot hall. This M-A is very different from the one that exists as I know it every day. It’s approximately six stories tall, there’s a dark lake outside of my window, and the grass is dark green and spongy. My friend (Girl) had recently broken up with her boyfriend (Guy). The Girl has began seeing another person, but the Guy insists that they remain friends. She agrees and continues her life.

The first night enters. I’m with the Girl and her boyfriend has recently left. She’s concerned that the Guy is becoming jealous of her new relationship. It’s pitch black outside, and it’s cold. We’re outside of the building, also completely dark on the inside. She suddenly tells me to get down on the ground. We’re on the ground and silent. She whispers to me, “He’s in the water.” We don’t move, but it becomes apparent we’re at the edge of the lake. He rises out of the water, three inches from my face. The Guy claims he wasn’t doing anything, and was only hanging out. We take it as a valid excuse, and night one ends.

The second night immediately begins. The Guy has showed up, and is angry at the Girl for dating already. The Girl is not phased, and explains it’s unfair for him to treat her as a girlfriend when they’re broken up. He tells her that she’ll be sorry. I’m present and aware of the situation, but watch from the corner and stay silent.

The third day starts. I’m standing by myself outside, watching the Guy and his friends building a structure. It’s a staircase-like structure that runs relatively parallel to the building wall with platforms rising three feet at a time. The structure is immediately finished. There’s a wall to the left of it. I overhear the Guy and his friends planning the demise of the Girl’s new boyfriend, involving razor-sharp darts the size of small missiles.

It’s night. I’ve told the Girl the plans, and she’s gone to confront the Guy. The confrontation ends poorly, and we’re suddenly running from the Guy. He’s snapped and wants to injure both of us. We begin ascending the platform structure. We’re already five stories up, and he’s still at the bottom, but we have no exit and the structure is reaching the top. I see a window with the screen cracked open. I reach over and open the screen. Upon trying to climb in the room, I can’t. I open the screen more, and finally get into the room. I look behind me to get the Girl into the room, but He already has her. I try to grab her, but he pushes her off the platform, she falls to the concrete, and breaks her neck. The Girl bleeds out onto the pavement, and I’ve failed her.

The dream ends.

I feel that I’ve finally lost all composure. I’ve felt nothing but bitter for the past three days, and I honestly don’t feel any better than when I began. Usually a dark mood of mine lasts a few hours–or a day if it’s particularly bad–but nothing seems to be looking up anymore, so how can I keep a smile on my face anymore? I can’t, and my mood is starting to leave me more easily aggravated with others. Hopefully something looks up soon because I’m not sure than I can take this added strain to my already whacked-out life, not to mention I don’t think I can handle constantly being asked, “What’s wrong?” Not when the only answer I can manage to hand out is, “Nothing, it’s just been a long day.”

My Residents:

This spiral started on Thursday. When I’m working, I don’t really expect–or fucking deserve–to be called/approached three times because my floor is “out of control”. I find myself to be relatively lenient and easy-going, but once you get on my last nerve, it’s in your best interest to step the fuck off because there’s not very often a chance to go back once you’ve earned my grudge. After Thursday’s noisy incident, I’ve only received one apology, and on top of that no changes seem to have been made in the floor’s attitude, regardless of anything I say. I’m not the type to be taken advantage of, and everyone is about to learn that lesson in the most difficult of ways if things don’t change soon.

My Classes:

This is now the second time that this issue has surfaced: FUCK YOU, ORGO. I should actually be studying right now for my quiz in less than 10 hours from now, but I’ve nearly given up on that task; there’s only so much you can keep absorbing over and over. On top of the quiz tomorrow, my professor has very kindly decided that our exam would be this Friday as well, so I get to pull all-nighters for the same class twice in one week! Eventually I need to get around to finishing my nutrition assignment before it’s due on Thursday. Everything has once again managed to culminate into a single week, and it’s really starting to affect my ability to cope with all of them at once.

My Life:

I spent this entire week looking at happy couples on dance floors, realizing it’s been over a year since I dated someone even semi-seriously, and listening to the excitement of others’ upcoming dates when it really did nothing but crush me on the inside. I’ve just about had it with being considered second-rate and, for some reason, unworthy of dating anyone. I guess I never realized that I was still a reject of the homo-world, regardless of my apparent acclimation. When I’m actually interested in someone, they always seem to be dating someone already (go figure), and yet when I’m just genuinely trying to be someone’s friend, I get accused of trying to get into their pants. Maybe I should just be everyone’s friend–then I’d be bound to get laid eventually by the current logic, right? More importantly, fuck having a gigantic room completely to myself and never using it for any even remotely romantic purposes. I almost feel like I’m cheating my room out of its full worth, and even though that sounds a bit sleazy, that’s not my intention at all. Since when did I ever want to be wanted this badly?

Underlying Issue:

Often times I wish I could hate myself enough to finally force a change of behavior

My mood has seemingly become perpetually dark, and it’s starting to scare others (as well as myself).

What can I say, I had the most fun tonight that I’ve had in a long time, and yet I always seem to feel a bit disappointed by the end of the night.

Maybe I can change that one day… but most likely not.