Something about school, for once!

So, I have about 17 days left to learn all my chemistry. That means I have about 4 days for each section, or three days for each section (plus assignments) and 4 or 5 days for general review and practice tests.

For those of you who have been reading along, that probably means I'll re-read all my trashy novels, watch a bunch of movies and CSI, wander aimlessly in town, and flip out on the last night.

I'm only a *little* delusional, after all. If I were truely studious, I'd be graduated by now. So yeah, the next two weeks for me will be actual work. Scary. Plus I have to figure out WTF is up with my private loan. Which means tracking down the loan lady and seeing if she sent in papers that I don't know about- always a possibility with her.

And for those of you coming over for next semester- either to Massey or one of the AUS. schools, only a couple weeks left to visit everyone left on your list, stuff you face with all the stuff you can't find over here, Pack and pack, and re-pack, deal with money stuff, triple check your tickets (don't forget to join a loyalty program- I'll have enough for a free ticket in another month or three), play around with your passport, stare at your visa, call the credit card companies, and all the 8 gazillion other things you have to do.

Strange to think that this time last year I was a nutcase, running around everywhere, just back from Africa, and out of my head with malaria. Driving myself around the country to visit people I won't see again for a long long while.

Right, then. Time to "work".

j.

Doctor Dislike

Odd, I'm sure, but for someone who wants to professionally do the medical thing (tho on animals other than people), I *hate* going to the doctor.

I don't know if it's because they chase me with sharp and pointies, or that they tend to be very condecending, or maybe that I just feel like an idiot going in and explaining what's bothering me.

Example. My shoulder is killing me. Ok, maybe not killing me, I'd give it about a 4. For comparison's sake, getting hit in the head with a hockey puck is about a 3.5, and a headache so bad I lock myself with bigtime painkillers in a pitch black dead silent room and whimper for 10 hours is about a 6. But the normal Rice crispy sounds have moved on to hurting, moving it hurts, and it's just driving me batty. I *should* see a doctor for this- I might actually be able to do something about it other than advil and ice it into (eventual) submission.

But I probably won't.

Part of it, I know, is a carry-over from my childhood, when if whatever was wrong was still *just as wrong* after a week, you could go to the doctor. Not before. Parents not big on the doctor thing, me thinks.

Problem with the "if it's not better in a week, I'll go then" thing is... well, you have to explain to the doctor all about how it feels like people are gouging your (ear/ brain/ knee/ shoulder) with ice picks, sawing thru the muscles, and setting up big-time pain factories in the area that's bugging you, and have been doing it for, oh... 7 or 8 days. Somehow, this seems to discredit your pain rating, even if it was conservative to begin with.

And if you've got something like bronchitis, they really stare at you, and give you the "are you an idiot" lecture.

Or they decide that, because I'm female, I must be making up whatever's bugging me and they tell me there's nothing wrong and send me home. I hate doctors like that.

So I'm sitting here with a shoulder that's been bugging me for a week or so, a hip that keeps locking, and a total lack of allergy meds, because I'm worried the doctor's going to look at me like I'm an idiot. Or send me off for x-rays or something expensive.

Meh, I hate going to the doctor. Maybe if they gave me treats... or did my nails.

Damn, dogs have it good. They even get their butt squozed if they act right.

j.

Good News/ Bad News

I know- Two posts fast-like, one after the other, I must be sick... (actually, I think I am)

Anyway- this has been a kinda good news/ bad news week.
My mother and her Man Friend have kinda picked a date and a place for to get hitched.
Not Aruba. Too bad.
My sister's boss's boyfriend totalled her (my sister's) car.
Which was my car.
Which I was supposed to be getting back when I got back to the states after school, since by then it would be paid for, hopefully still in good condition, and still getting 35+mpg.
Only had to do seven labs.
In 3.5 days.
All done now, tho.
Got my date and time for my summer school final.
Also got confirmation of my classes for next semester.
Cadbury Cream eggs are in stores here.

Pollen's down a bit this week.
And I'm all out of Claratin, which doesn't work anyway.

I think it's time to go back to sleep. Maybe when I wake up Life will be all good. Like in a fairytale. But not one of the ones with people eating witches or bad monsters or ogres, or anything. More like the lorax before the onceler.

Maybe it's just time for vacation. Or a drug habit. Anyone wanna lend (give) me a bunch of money to develop one of these? Didn't think so.

j.

movie love

I am a reader. It happens. I read waaaay too much, whenever I can find the time. But I also like movies.

Some, I love.

Take Last of the Mohicans, for example. The whole damned thing is beautiful. The scenery, the music, the cast, the story and plot arc, the relationships, the selfless death, I love it. I'm a sucker for romantic stuff, remember?

I just finished watching it. They copy, unfortunately, skips and freezes at most of the good parts, so while I'm running the story in my head to match the movie, I end up off (you know, like when you hear your favorite song on the radio and they cut out half of it- you find yourself singing along with the missing bit, but they're playing the last verse). Drives me nuts. I think the only really good, moving scene that didn't get messed up like that is the one at the end, on the cliff. For the two people in the world that haven't seen the movie I'll leave it at that.

But, much tho I love the story, and the sudden true-ish love found on the frontier (10 miles from teh center of albany) and the way Uncas (for no sane reason I can come up with) falls madly for the younger sister...

Ok, see, I wanted to read the book, right? I mean, the book is *always better, right? But I *can't*. I've tried. Over and over again. I don't know if it's the writing style of the time, or that the written story just doesn't speak to me- but I can't read it. I get about 2 pages into it and give up. I don't usually give up. Heck, I read this terrible book about *star dragons*, for bob's sake, with physics equations every 5 pages or so. But I can't read the book for last of the mohicans.

Ok, major geek failure here- I can't force myself to get through Lord of the Rings, either. I got to about Tom Bombadill, and I want to throw the books across the room. I am a geek failure.

Maybe it's just books "everyone" loves. Or serious old fiction. Or anything written by victorians. Tho honestly I can't stand steinbeck either.

Maybe when I'm old and slow, and my mind is willing to hold a single idea and spin it out for days on end, maybe then I'll be able to read books like these. But I don't think so. I have a friend who could read them now- reads big boring philosophy books for fun, writes endless long books with philosophical wonderings. Was basically born about 125 years too late. I just don't have the patience for it. I wish I did. I'd like to see who else Frodo ran into on the way to the big angry mountain. I want to follow nathaniel's travels, see what Uncas was really like, find out, someday, what actually happens in Tortilla Flats.

Maybe some day I'll take another couple really long car rides. And maybe I'll get the uncut versions of these books on tape. And maybe then, driving way too fast through the smokies on the interstate (40, I think) between tennessee and North Carolina, or that big empty badness that is west Tejas, I'll finally find out what *really* happens.

But for now, I'll stick with the movies. And maybe I'll find surround sound, to watch "mohican's" again. Because, Damn, I love that movie. And not just because Daniel Day-Lewis is hot. He's hot in other stuff too, but I don't love it.

j.

For your amusement

I have about ten minutes before I have to leave to take a test/ quiz that "only counts if" it raises my grade. So busy work...

So as I chug starbucks (my stomach hates me right now) and listen to alice's restaurant, I figure rather than studying (which will just put me to sleep- damn that CSI), I will point all of you (all 2 of you) to my favorite january game- the state of the union drinking game!

Now, I missed it when it ran live, that whole lab thing, and I can't play tonight, but it'll be there for a while, and as soon as they get it loaded at c-span, I can play over and over again. But not tonight.

But I figure all of you can play (if you haven't already). It's true bipartisan fun! well, unless you're one of those no-fun having types, in which case, get off the internet- it's the work of teh devil, and will make you burn in hell. And I really don't want people like that hanging out in hell with me. Nope nope nope.

so anyway- state of the union drinking game, with link to c-span's state of the union page.

and remember- don't drink and drive. Unless you're in the senate.

j.

Contact!

So, I'm spending this week doing labs (and taking some lame test) because I failed at it miserably last time. Ok, not that bad, but still, not good either.

And it's really not as bad as last time. Almost fun. It's amazing what having some vague idea of why you're doing what you're doing does to your enjoyment and speed in lab. Tho I will never be the proud owner of a still. I (always, every time) get either booze over 97C (where they tell me it does not live) , or else watery-booze and boozey water. So no moonshine making for me. Drat.

On a totally different subject- I have finded the most perfect fry combination ever- well, for me, anyway....

Thai hot chili sauce, cajun seasoning, mild curry powder, salt and oil on the fries (chili sauce really doesn't flavor the potato- the rest is for that) dipped in roasted garlic mayo. OMG, I could eat it all day long. Not good for getting back to "pre-NZ" weight, but... well... it taste sooooo goooooooood.

So- roasted garlic mayo-

you need a head (or 2 or 5 or 20) of garlic
enough aluminum foil to wrap each head like.. well, garlic
olive oil (if it's dried out- I found fresh)
cookie sheet
oven
bowl
spoon
fork or food processor or easy to scoop out blender
mayo

Ya takes the garlic, and if it's dried (like most is) you cut off the stem bit, so you can almost see the tops, and drizzle olive oil into them. You can actually skip this totally, but I'm told it's good.
Ya wraps the garlic in the foil (put the bottom of the head in the middle, and fold it up like wrapping a wine (beer?) bottle- you've all tried this, yes?)
Ya tosses the garlic onto the cookie sheet (bottom down) in a 350-ish F oven.
Ya bakes it for... oh, 30 minutes or an hour, or untill it's soft and yummy- whatever.
Ya lets it cool.
ya stores the extra in the fridge- probably double bagged, tho it smells less than unbaked garlic.

Ya takes out the mayo (or whatever ya uses instead of mayo (if ya uses miracle whip, ya be a vile bad person, and may never ever ever tell me about how this tastes)).
Ya puts the mayo in the bowl (or food processor, or blender) with the spoon.
Ya squeezes (squozes?) how ever much garlic ya wants into the mayo (I usually use about 1 clove per tablespoon). Just the smooshy part- not the papery skin.
Ya mooshes (with fork) or blends (with blender) or grinds to death (with food processor) the mayo/ garlic stuff.

Ya eats just about anything dipped in it (not breakfast or desert, me thinks, tho... like cajun seasoning, even this has places it do not go).

Ya can use the extra garlics (extra? me not got extra yet....) in just about anything. Like soup. Or burgers. Or scramble-ed eggs. Or tacos. But not apple pie. I don't think. Or ya mooshes the garlics up with some salt and just eats it like that- on just about anything (again, not pie). And then you scares off hot people, vampires, and everyone that doesn't like garlic. But ya doesn't gets ulcers, and mosquitoes ignores you. Unless you eats bananas. But people that eats bananas is sick an deserve to get eaten by mosquitoes.

j.

weather adjustment wierdness

It's "hot" here today- 74, to be precise, with 54% humidity. And the UV index is at about 800, because some crazy decided to build the place under a huge hole in the ozone layer-thingy. Back home, I'd be just comfy- maybe looking for another layer. But here, heck, it's a heatwave. I think it's warmer in Phoenix today- and it's winter there.

I'm wearing sunscreen, and a hoodie (light weight) and jeans (whole-y) and flipflops and a wifebeeter and assorted underwear.

And I'm hot.

Oh, I know- lose the hoodie and swap the jeans for something lighter, but... I don't think I have enough sunscreen for that.

See- when I was a kid, I used to spen all summer with my grandparents, on the beach in florida. And after about a week I'd be toasted a nice shade of brown (went well with the white blonde hair). Then, sometime in highschool, I realised that all those tan people look really really old at about 30. And since I don't want to look old, I stopped doing the sun thing. And I got very very pale.

And now, no matter what I do, how much time I spend in the evil demon sun, or what I do or don't wear, I don't tan. I burn. I freckle, I pale. No tanning. Well, except in spots- if I get sunscreen on everything but one small spot of my face, that spot will tan. If I just get one small spot of SS on my face, I just freckle. Forget it entirely, and I *still* just freckle. Well, after the burn goes away.

So in my totally vain attempt to continue looking "not old" I am wearing too many clothes- 'cause clothes is easier than slathering smelly stuff all over. Cheaper too.

and sucking down the venti mocha frap's like they're going out of style.

Now if only they weren't so cold they make my stomach hurt....

j.