Thursday, July 22, 2010

I've got half a smile and zero shame,

I've got a reflection with a different name...
That lyric makes me wish I had a visible alter ego in the mirror who would go by the moniker Violette. She would do all the things I don't, and say all the things I shouldn't- ala Michael Cera's alter ego 'Francois' in "Youth in Revolt".
Mostly I wish she would smoke constantly, have better jokes and help me apply liquid eyeliner. (It always takes me forever to get it just right.)
I recently decided to quit smoking. I was never a pack-a-day-er, but I realized that sooner or later I was going to have to quit for good. Being an oncologist who smokes is like the textbook definition of hypocrite. Or self-defeating. One of those. Maybe both.
So today is day four of not smoking, and it's slightly better than days one, two and three.
The first day I felt nervous, and a little cranky, but overall  not too bad.
Day two took a definite turn for the worse, with my patience wearing thin as well as the filter between the rude things I think and the awesome things that come out of my mouth.
Day three was tough. Not only was I feeling cranky because of the lack of nicotine, but it was a million degrees out and I was walking around downtown Ann Arbor in the art fair sweating. I only like to sweat when I'm working out. That's legit the only time I am okay with sweating.  I hate feeling sweaty and gross. I realize it's my bodys' natural reaction to ungodly temperatures, but I'm still not down. The heat and grossness added to my discomfort and I was pretty much a giant grumpapotamous. I feel bad for my boyfriend.
Day four is going much better. I decided to distract myself with work and registering for all my classes next semester. :) I am a giant nerd and get really excited about things like that. I had originally planned to take eighteen credit hours next semester, but due to scheduling crisises (not having the ability to be in two places at one and my absolute refusal to attend a 7 AM Bio class Sunday morning) I am only taking fourteen and a half credit hours. But that is still a full courseload.

After my five year hiatus from the structured world of school, I am excited to use my brain in new ways and be challenged academically. (See? I told you I was a nerd.) Playing music is great, and I still plan on doing that, but I'm happy to see what else is in store for me. I'll never completely trade in my bass and microphone for a stethoscope and scalpel. But it's okay to have more than one dream.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

South Dakota

South Dakota confused me. I saw a plethora of billboards, including one slightly suggestive one that read, "Come Ride The McNasty" featuring a covered wagon that had clearly seen better days. But there was what seemed to be an astonishing lack of actual human life. Where exactly are all of these things being advertised? I started to imagine that there were massive underground cities brimming with life and excitement, where everyone lives and the surface is where only tiny troll-like South Dakotans hide out and raise sheep. Because even when we happened upon a gas station to refuel, there never seemed to be an actual city attached to it, the only exception being the Corn Palace.

The Corn Palace was a building set in a small plaza not unlike a low budget theme park, in which there were no rides, but you could purchase a hat shaped like an ear of corn, or alternatively view an informational film about the corn. Now, I love weird things, especially hats, but these corn hats were neither bizarre enough for me to love or nice enough for my family to consider wearing, so the majority of our group left the CP without a hat.  My boyfriend, on the other hand, purchased a cowboy hat at this fine establishment. Now, we're in South Dakota and there's only like, twelve visible people in this whole state anyway, so I suppose it doesn't really matter what you look like, but as my sister Zoe pointed out, he did slightly resemble Hugh Jackman in the hat. (Or as she so eloquently explained, "like the Wolfman from The Matrix!" She's not a film buff.) In any case, by the time we'd left the CP, the hat had grown on me.

I left South Dakota without finding the underground city, sheep-farming trolls or riding the McNasty.
It was a thoroughly disappointing state.
I'm not going back. For my return trip, I'm going around it.