I digress. Back to why I made an impulse purchase of tea and tea-related accessories. And “impulse” is really a relative term. I certainly didn’t go into Teavana expecting to make a purchase that day, but a quality tea set is something I’ve had my eye after for some time now. In the end, I decided it was finally time to upgrade to a quality kettle.

It’s been about two weeks now that I’ve had said kettle, and I’m super-excited that my tea is tasting better than ever. You see, with cast iron tea pots, they become seasoned over time. One of the major benefits of this seasoning is the development of a patina. A patina is a mineral layer that forms on the inside (and over time, the outside) of the tea kettle. It’s what makes the tea–normally a pretty delicate flavor–just extraordinary. Some connoisseurs even prefer the taste of tea from a slightly rusted pot (rust is non-toxic), but I’m not so sure I want to try that one just yet.

Nestled away in a quiet neighborhood close to Value City (those still exist?), Home Depot, Meijer, and Target is Westbay Club Apartments. They weren’t the largest apartments I looked at, but they allow pets, were extremely cheap, and had free heat (from a boiler) meaning I would only pay electricity. Even though I gave up on the prospect of having a washer and dryer in my apartment like this year, the laundry rooms in each building are on the ground floor–the door across from my own. I’ll take the convenient location as consolation.

My first decision was to live on a second or third floor apartment. As I continued searching, I realized this was probably a terrible idea. Living on a second floor again, I would have someone above and below me at all times. Living on a third floor with only a wall AC unit to cool me, I’d probably boil in the summer. That said, I took the opportunity on my third trip to Westbay to look at some of their “garden level” apartments. I was pretty impressed, even though the floor plans were smaller. What was a “dining room” area was eliminated in lieu of extending the kitchen area (which is TOTALLY fine by me).

But I haven’t gotten to what officially sealed the deal for me. For one, it was nice that the girls in the office felt okay giving me the apartment keys and allowing me to tour the units by myself. It’s surprisingly a much calmer experience when I can explore on my own without someone breathing down my neck.

Before moving to the second point, it’s important to point out that a DTN complex was my second choice. It was going to be $595 a month for the apartment I wanted because they had updated the kitchen with new appliances and counter tops. DTN apparently decides rent on a unit-by-unit basis depending on floor, view, updates, and the like. A normal unit with a vastly outdated kitchen was $545.

And now for what made my decision for me. The girl in the office listed out the available garden level apartments for renting and knew that I had enjoyed the previously toured models because they had newly replaced carpeting and some updated (within the last year) appliances. Well, as it turns out, there was a unit that has the following happening to it within the month before I would be moving in: It already got new carpet, it has new vinyl in the kitchen and bathroom, it’s getting a new fridge AND stove AND dishwasher (the previous ones were avocado green and from the 70s. No joke. I guess why this apartment has been unoccupied for the past year?), it has a new AC unit with a remote, and it’s getting new counter tops. Basically, the apartment I’m going to be moving into is completely new in EVERY single aspect. I’m elated, moreover because the price is still a modest $510 for each month (and no extra rent for my kitten).

Oh, and did I mention I’m moving in July? They have a 13 month lease where the first month is free, so there’s no reason for me to live in Abbott Place for the last month when I can move out early and avoid the rush. :)

In this particular instance, I received a phone call from my adviser today. She double checked that I had, in fact, just graduated with my degree in human biology. After affirming this, she said, “Well there’s a bit of a problem…” At first I thought to myself, “Oh god, I missed a required class or something,” but she continued by double checking that I’m taking some human medicine classes over the summer. I said that I was and found that those classes were the problem.

My masters program doesn’t officially begin for me until the fall, but I pulled some strings and got enrolled in the 801 and 802 classes for the summer–I’m trying to complete the masters in public health in one year–but these classes were linked to my enrollment status. That is to say, if my adviser officially graduated me with a degree in human biology I would no longer be enrolled at MSU (until fall, that is) and my enrollment in HM 801 and 802 would be discontinued.

Thankfully my adviser noticed this and decided to personally call me about my options! I could cancel graduation (no diploma) and reapply for graduation at the end of summer (too much paperwork if you ask me) or I could take a second major that will never officially be completed; therefore, I’m now a faux-physiology major for the rest of the summer! Now I can get my diploma for human biology and still continue taking my masters classes.

Bullet? Dodged. Thanks, Heidi Purdy!

Success! I had found the one retail store in the states of Michigan and Ohio that had cameras in stock (seriously, they aren’t carried anywhere else within a 100 mile radius). My mother was kind enough to offer to drive me to the Taylor, MI Walmart (an hour away) before having to be at work. Since this trip would consume a considerable amount of time–and more specifically because I refused to chance having my camera disappear on me–I called ahead. When asking the very nice lady on the other end if she could set aside one for me, she assured me that she didn’t expect them to sell any time soon, but guaranteed that she would set one aside for me should the situation present itself.

With this, my mom and I embarked on our journey to the construction-torn I-75. We finally arrived at our destination an hour later, as I had told the salesperson. After making our way to the camera department, I looked at the selection and noticed that the 550D was mysteriously absent next to its older counterpart. My first thought was that they had perhaps mistaken the 500D with the 550D I wanted, so we went to the desk and explained to the woman that I had called previously about the camera. I was met with a deer in headlights look as she explained to me that her associate had already sold the camera that she set aside for me. I was dumbfounded.

It turns out someone had called in that time to inquire about the same camera. Apparently the store clerk had disclosed that it was set aside for someone, but if he were to call after an hour (the traveling time I quoted her) she could let him know if it was available. What this guy chose to do instead was drive to Walmart before me and say that he was the one who had called. As an aside, this is why you always take down names for reserved items and also why you don’t disclose that much information over the phone. I was twelve levels of irate, but handled the situation comparatively well. She offered to sell me the display model at 10% off, but I looked at it and saw grubby finger marks all over the inner mirror because there was no lens on the camera body. That broke the deal for me, since it seems silly to pay upwards of $800 for a camera that would be of a significantly lower quality. Not to mention this is all to no fault of my own!

The women apologized up and down, but it wasn’t about to put a camera in my hand, so I left before I would lose my temper at having driven an hour for absolutely no reason.

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.

The overlying problem here isn’t my lack of interest in the classes. That’s a secondary symptom to something much more chronic. The reason I find it so impossible to go to these classes is the simple fact that my sleep schedule no longer remotely recognizes one of a “normal” person. I can stay up until 9am, then sleep until 5pm and do it all over again. Even if I manage to go to sleep early (like yesterday), I’ll wake up a few hours later feeling–refreshed, perhaps–aggravated that I have four hours to kill before my 9am class. This isn’t all, though. Sometimes, I legitimately CAN go to bed “early” (around 2am) and get to sleep relatively quickly. This won’t stop me from waking up at 5pm the next day, though. If you’re keeping track of time, that means it’s possible for me to sleep for 15 hours without even briefly waking.

Perhaps I have hypersomnia. Hypersomnia is characterized by an excessively deep sleep, trouble waking up in the morning, not feeling refreshed when you’re awake, and being able to sleep at almost any time of day. Obviously, I don’t have all of the symptoms, nor do I have them consistently, but as with any diagnosis, only a majority of symptoms are required. Here’s the fun part: There isn’t really an understanding of how hypersomnia works, nor is there really any sort of treatment option except for such genius recommendations as “changes in behavior and diet”.

Clearly I just need to be a compulsive coffee-drinker.

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 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.

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!

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.