sporadic thought bubbles

One of the most amazing things i’ve ever read in a book, cause i’m exactly like that:

"It seems to me that if you place music (and books, probably, and films, and plays, and anything that makes you feel) at the center of your being, then you can’t afford to sort out your love life, start to think of it as the finished product. You’ve got to pick at it, keep it alive and in turmoil, you’ve got to pick at it and unravel it until it all comes apart and you’re compelled to start all over again. Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as a consequence we can never feel merely content; we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship."

-Rob Fleming the pop-culture/modern-relationship prophet in High Fidelity by Nick Hornby

Hey last two days of boards coming up, God bless everybody! (read: everybody but Jason slightly more) After that shamelessly public declaration of affection, let’s get back on the cynical downward spiral. No time to lose.

Been reading a lot lately. Finished the lovely bones (made me cry like a big baby, highly recommended for catharsis in the absence of an enema), and virgin suicides (haven’t seen the movie but i can’t wait to, anyone have a copy?). Am in the middle of high fidelity, which is so full of self-consciously cool music references that i am simultaneously suppressing the urge to run to tower to update my miserable cd collection, AND the urge to run to astrovision OR any pirated dvd mecca (ruins, anyone?) to purchase every john cusack movie ever made. i saw snippets of high fidelity on hbo a couple of times, hence john’s irrepressible jumping into my subconscious every half-paragraph or so… all this reading makes my head thump. Or that could be because i accidentally bought contacts that are 0.25 higher than my real grade. Overcorrection is a bitch. But the person who stole my ENTIRE backpack from the interns table in ward 16 two weeks ago is the lowest form of scum on this rotting, putrid, malodorous world. It’s because of YOU, asshole with all my things, that i had to buy new contacts and thus curse myself with these occipital headaches and nape pains. I hope you enjoy my toothbrush, my facial wash, and my old contact lenses. I hope you look good in baby pink, as in the semi-new pink jacket and pink floral scrub suit that i kept in the bag you stole. I hope you’re able to use my scrub cap and mask in your next thieving adventure. And I hope you got pleasantly frustrated when you realized that there was ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WORTH ANYTHING in that bag. No money, no phone, no credit cards, NOTHING you could ever use to scam me or anyone else further. NOTHING except my perfume, my toiletries, and my clothes, which i have soaked with the scent of my being, which will haunt you, daily, just as soon as i die.

Unless you go first. (evil diabolical laugh)

Whew. Now that’s a lot of bitter. Tootles! =)

was watching a jennifer love hewitt-pretending-she’s-british movie (not "if only"–i liked that one).. some quotes to ponder:

guy says that the ideal woman is a blind nymphomaniac heiress living on top of a pub, with huge tits of course.

woman says men naturally have smaller brains so they can fit in their penises.

just sharing. haha =)

we grow up so fast, don’t we? like those mongo seeds we planted when we were in first grade.

i didn’t see that coming.

i blink and suddenly i am an adult. i stare into space for ten nanoseconds and suddenly i am a doctor. well, almost.

it’s just weird, this whole med school thing. we enter with our flagrant misconceptions, our childlike curiosity, our fresh-out-of-highschool cheery good dispositions. and in a matter of minutes, i am a world-weary, sleep-deprived, full-on bitch with a penchant for alcohol. slight exaggeration but you catch the drift.

how did i get from point A to point B?

my seth-cohen-themed theory is this. med school is a secret warp zone. i just zipped through 3 levels of the video game by slipping through the cracks.

did everyone slip through the cracks or was it just me?

i blink and suddenly another person’s life is in my hands. well, almost.

but i’m just a little mongo seed…

i think i’ve used too many metaphors…

or maybe i just think too much.

pre-LR duty again! my insides are teeming with excitement (not.)

it is time for random thought imported from phone archive # 3:

And when the storm clouds have settled, when the last droplets of salt water beneath her lids have been swallowed by the wind, only friendship remains.

Men will move on and never understand but the women will wallow, and learn, and grieve until the sorrow is overcome by the comfort of one’s friends.