Having survived my first few days back at school, I can honestly say that I feel pretty good about being back up here. Despite everything. Everything being that I have to write a senior thesis, take the GRE, get my grad school applications in, get the fat naked guy to stop lurking by my window, and find a way to get Sallie Mae to quit screwing with me. "Dear Ms. B---, Congratulations on graduating early. Screw you. Now pay us a bunch of stupid fees that normal students don't have to pay."

Looking back over the last 48 hours, it's really amazing how college students from around the country have joined together in solidarity for the students of Virginia Tech. Right after I heard about the shootings, I joined a Facebook tribute group of 17,000. A day later, the group had grown by 100,000 people and is now 250,000+ strong, and has branched off into a number of websites. And while it would be awesome for people to simply remember the victims without getting into political pissing matches, it's never that easy. Right now, as more and more details are coming out about the perpetrator's nature, one has to wonder why no one saw that there might have been a problem in the making and done something about it? Okay, maybe the guy did obtain those guns legally according to VA laws, but come on? If gun control laws can't be made stricter, then maybe make people with clean records looking to buy a gun undergo a psychiatric exam. It's a start, you know?

Everything that happened is so pointless and sad, and people are right, it really could happen anywhere. Will this finally be the straw that breaks the camel's back and forces our government to look at our gun control laws and realize that this kind of thing cannot keep happening!

Since I didn't have anything better to do last weekend, I decided to go home. Relax, eat some good food, get my dad to buy me stuff, the usual. Traffic was absolutely horrendous. So horrendous that I'm not sure I want to go home again if it means having to put up with it taking a half hour to go 3/10 of a mile. I'm not a very patient person, and rush hour traffic tends to bring out the worst in me. No, I'm not a dangerous driver, I just like to scream "GO!!!!!" a lot. Usually at the car in front of me. Like they can go anywhere.

I'm beginning to view my parents as a source of entertainment instead of annoyance. They're getting older, bless 'em, and I guess I've never really noticed it before. They like to argue about the nitpickiest little things, and I think its hilarious. Like when the neighbor across the street fixed his roof. "Forget about the neighbors' roof Jim! When are you gonna fix our roof? I'm sick of my ceiling leaking everytime it rains!" Note: it's "hers" when it, whatever it is, breaks, stops working or leaks. It only becomes "theirs" when she can't fix it.

When I finally got back to school, I found out that I missed two things. One of them was snow, which I didn't mind missing. In fact it's the reason I went home. The second thing was finding out about AK's engagement (Mazal tov, AK and Dan!). I found out about it from Facebook. Not the best way to hear about your friend's engagement. And its the second time that its happened. What is it about senior year that makes people get engaged left, right and center?

I have tricky veins

Today I gave blood for the first time. Not a pleasant experience, but one I plan on doing again someday. I walked into the little clinic they set up in the student union right on time, and one hour, two nurses, three tries (one in the right arm, two in the left), my blood was draining out into the little baggie. And now here I am munching on a brownie with pink and red sprinkles on top, and one of those cute mini cans of ginger ale.


"There's food involved?"
"Yes."
"And all I have to do is let you stick a metal spike* in my arm?"
"Yes."
"Ok!"




Behold my sexy, sexy arm.


*Note: "stick a metal spike in my arm" can be replaced with "sign me up for a credit card with a ridiculously high interest rate" and that little set of quotes up there loses none of its meaning.

*Primal Scream*

30 November: take home exam due
1 December: presentation on Santeria

4 December: Biology exam and paper on Santeria due
5 December: exam on Nigerian and Iranian politics
7 December: presentation, write-up and possible exam
8 December: final exams in Western Civ, contemp. Latin America and Biology

Someone shoot me now.

Why? Why, Why, WHY???????????

Getting sick or injured on holidays is something that comes naturally to me. Last Christmas I had the flu. Thanksgiving two years ago I had an upper respiratory tract infection. Spring break when I was seventeen I don't even know what I had, but I know I ran a temperature of 106. My mom physically carried me to the tub, dumped me in and threw ice cubes and cold water on me. Thanks mom.. Last 4th of July my contact broke (while I was wearing it), and I had to miss out on overtime $$ at Macy's so I could go to the ER and have one of their *fine* young doctors scratch my cornea. And then there was that time when all the neighborhood kids got head lice. On fucking New Years Eve! Currently, I have some kind of stomach bug. Am delighted to report that it is not food poisoning, which hey, after eating in the cafeteria, is nothing short of a miracle.

However, my attitude towards my roommate: not so good. When we came to our unspoken agreement that we would share certain things, I was thinking food, laundry money, alcohol. Anything but infectious diseases. And now she's at her house, resting up where mama can take care of her, and I'm here in my dorm room, sad and lonely with a badly drawn biohazard symbol on my door. I want someone to pour Sprite down my throat and bring me crackers. I want not to feel like typhoid Mary. Up until 11 pm last night, I thought that I had food poisoning, so I went about my business. Saw a play, went to intro class, went to my sorority meeting, spread my germs around... I really hope that no one gets sick because of me.

The Well Meaning Freshman Who Won't Shut Up

This has not been a good morning for me. After giving my alarm clock a thorough pounding (I'll have to reset it, so thorough was the pounding), I managed to get up, throw on some clothes and venture out into the freezing cold. Along the way, I encountered WMFWWSU. My first meeting with her was about two weeks ago. I took the long way this morning after I saw her up ahead, because I just knew that she was gonna want to do that talking thing that I'm not a big fan of that early in the morning. She didn't take the hint, and was waiting for me when I got to the sidewalk. She proceeded to complain about how cold it was, while I grunted my replies. She finally went to the library and I got to enjoy the silence for a few minutes until I got to class.

Now, it's not that I'm mean (well, not entirely). I would have treated my very best friend the same way if she were chattering incessantly in my ear at 7:45 in the frickin' morning.

Why can't I have a weak stomach?

Ok, that isn't a question that a lot of people ask. But after spending two hours this morning, elbow deep in fetal pig guts, I would kill to be the squeamish one, instead of the one who always has to do the nasty stuff because no one else will. When Biology started, the teacher gave us all the impression that there would be no dissections. And yet, there I was at eight in the morning opening up a baby pig while the stench of formaldahyde nearly knocked me out. Not to mention having to put up with my very freshman lab partner. "Pig wiener!!!!!"

*WARNING: Stop here if easily grossed out. Seriously.*

See, I can totally handle looking at dead animal insides, if I didn't make that clear enough. The thing that bothers me is that I love animals and I get overly attached to them. Piggie wasn't any different than the cat I had to first skin and then dissect back in high school. Yes, I had to dissect a cat. Yes, I am still bothered by that four years later. Here's a giant example of how attached I get to animals: I remember looking down at poor little piggie this morning and thinking to myself: "This is so wrong. I bet this little critter (yeah, I'm Southern, deal with it) had hopes and dreams that did NOT involve lying on a table with her stomach cut open and her legs up in the air!" Later on when I found out she was a girl, I had to fight the urge to grab some paper towels and cover her up.

This has been my most graphic post ever. If you managed to finish reading it, go get yourself a nice treat. You deserve it.