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Monthly Archives: November 2011

Home Sweet Home

I decided it was time for another wonderful Flickr find, and I spotted just the guy to show off. His work makes me all nostalgic and reminds me of home. It also kind of makes me feel guilty that I didn’t make it home for Thanksgiving. C’est la vie.

Anyways, enjoy!

(Sorry the images aren’t more view-able, but he super secures them with magic and minotaurs and shiz. Check out his page though. I double dog dare you.)

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Posted by on November 30, 2011 in A Few of My Favorite Things

 

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Dreams, Boys, Money, and Death

You caught me. I managed to sneak the whole way through the Thanksgiving season without posting the obligatory “I’m thankful for…” post. “Shame on you,” you say, “because you have so much to be thankful for!” I know, I know. So why am I dragging my feet so much at the idea of writing this? I’ll tell you why. I tend to get icky mushy gushy about it. I guess maybe it might be a good thing for me to put some emotion out other than sarcasm, and for once say something that isn’t pure bull-honkey.

Shiver… that sounds terrible. If I had a shot of something strong, this might be easier. Okay, now that is just a total lie. Stupid alcohol and it’s stupid powers. Big breath iiiinnnn, and ouuuuut. Whelp, here goes nothing.

I am thankful to be part of a generation that is actively participating in the betterment of our future. I am thankful there is such diversity in the population, and with it, so much beauty. I am thankful there are people out there with an open mind, engaging mind, and critical mind all in one being.

I am thankful that others believed in my dreams more than I did, and gave me the opportunity to pursue them into my future.

I am thankful to have learned about death at an early age, however, I miss my best friend. I’m still not sure why it is fair to take someone so caring, giving, and understanding at the age of 10 away from this world. With that, I am thankful to have known both of my grandfathers and my great grandmother. I am even more thankful I get to continue to a relationship with my grandmothers, my mother, my father, my brother, and my sister. I am thankful to have learned not to fear death.

I am thankful to have for the most part defeated my biggest struggle in life: anorexia.

I am thankful for all the people that carry me when I don’t feel strong enough to stand. I’m just as thankful I have the stability necessary to hold so many other people up when all they want to do is fall down and never get up.

I am thankful for what little money my parents did have, and where it got us today.

I am thankful for both my ex-boyfriends, and I am thankful for the very different lessons they each taught me. I am thankful they took the time to teach me to love. To hate. And to reconcile. I’m also thankful that I am independent enough to not require a significant other in order to function and/or be happy.

I am thankful I was raised to possess humility, benevolence, perceptiveness, and optimism, as well as an inquisitive mind. I am thankful that I have enough of a spine to say “no” when necessary, and enough strength to hold my ground when it is appropriate. I’m thankful to have enough klutz in me that I can laugh at myself on occasion. (Okay, rather frequently…) I’m thankful to meet people everyday that remind me of these things individually, either by positive or negative reinforcement.

I’m thankful to be alive despite all the struggles, euphoric triumphs, monotony, and chaos that has been thrown my way. And I’m thankful to still be sane.

 
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Posted by on November 28, 2011 in My Inspiration and Motivation

 

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Forgive Me, But I’m Still Alive

I’m sure all of you were concerned I was dead, but thankfully I am able to tell you I am still part of the living, (please don’t feel too terrible that you didn’t even notice I hadn’t written anything for close to a week…) that is after all the sleep I’ve managed to obtain the past couple of days. It’s unbelievable, really. I didn’t think it was possible to sleep that much.

Since I am excellent at coming up with excuses, I could have had a mini book printed to enamor you with my skilled, hilarious, and oh so entertaining thoughts as to why this tragic lack of posting happened. (That statement was clearly exaggerating my whole life, in case you didn’t notice.) Instead, I decided to surprise you with a once in a lifetime, handmade drawing by none other than myself. …No, a third grader did not draw this, but I can definitely see how you might be thinking that. I promise I won’t cry if you don’t print it and hang it on your fridge (or if you don’t think that any of the reasons are valid for not writing a new post in ONE WHOLE WEEK).

20111126-232722.jpg

P.S. I didn’t want to draw something so terrifying that no one would want to come back to my site, and therefore, the test monster is cartoonized and Disney-ified and stuff. It is much, much scarier in real life. Trust me. It was hovering over my shoulder for about two weeks.

P.P.S. Didn’t picture me to look like that? Well it’s practically a perfect rendition of myself, right down to the ski feet and awkward stance. Except I have bigger boobs, obviously.

 
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Posted by on November 27, 2011 in My Inspiration and Motivation

 

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Dear Little Sister

This made my week, and I felt the need to share. It happens to be stolen from the http://dearblankpleaseblank.com, which wasted more of my weekend than I would like to admit to. I realized the procrastination was totally worth it when I found this:

“Dear little sister,
When the little boy in your play group asked for the “skin color crayon” and you held to him a black, brown, pink, yellow and white crayon, I had never been prouder.
Sincerely, your big sister”
<3, peace, && equality.
 
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Posted by on November 20, 2011 in A Few of My Favorite Things

 

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Boobs are Great and All, but…

“Put a heart (♥) on your wall with out comment, only a heart. Then send this message to all your female friends. Next, place a heart on the wall of the person who sent this message to you. And if someone asks you why you have so many hearts on your wall, do not reply. This is only for women to remember that this is a time to remember and care about breast cancer, and that we should always be breast aware.”

That is a copy and paste version of a mass message I got in my Facebook inbox this morning. I’m guessing that at least some of you have gotten this same one, or at least one about bra colors, where you leave your purse, or what you are craving when you are pregnant. If you haven’t, consider yourself darn lucky, because I’m pretty sure they are just sent to my inbox with intent to make me swell with rage all Hulk style. Well, okay, I am exaggerating with the severity of my negative emotions quite a bit in that statement. Why get so flustered over something so minute? Sit back, Jack, because this one is a doozy.

First off, posting these things on Facebook is, for some odd reason, NOT raising awareness for breast cancer. At all. If you want to raise awareness, say something about BRCA1 or BRCA2. Post a factual statement that one out of every eight women residing in the United States will develop breast cancer, or that breast cancer is the second-leading cause of cancer death among women in the United States. Most importantly, tell your friends and family to have regular examinations. Early diagnosis means several things: increased chances of being able to keep your boobs, increased chances of living, and increased likelihood that genetic screening will be done on your babies. (They are probably not too little anymore, but they are always babies to a mom.) The take-home point: early diagnosis = good prognosis.

Secondly, these posts always seem to include something about just sending it to only the women on your friends list. I hate to be the one to inform you all, but each year in the US alone, over 1000-2500 males are diagnosed with breast cancer. Every year, more and more man boobs are lost. Tragedy.

As a mini-side note, still on the same topic of course, I find it funny that I see at least three of these silly little messages sitting in my inbox each year, most of which talk about doing something ridiculous for “Breast Cancer Awareness Month.” Why am I getting this in March?? Breast Cancer Awareness Month is October. Mark it on your calender, ladies and gents, because we are going to paint the town pink. You know, to promote “breast cancer awareness” or being a girl or that pink is the best color or something. Envision my eyes rolling.

Then there is always the fact that we have to understand what is happening in cancer to be able to design drugs to be effective against it. (Translation: We have to conduct research in order to have a chance at understanding how cancer works.) “But what does this have to do with me?” you ask all innocently. This is when I will tell you, “It costs money to do research.” Being all smart, you will retort, “Yeah, I knew that. But again, what does this have to do with me? They get research grants and things to help them out.” “Ahah! I see you are an intelligent one,” I’d say. “But you seem have forgotten that breast cancer is still the number two cause of death in females here in the US. Researchers apparently haven’t found enough yet to decrease the mortality rate. More research must be done. More research means more money, and quite frankly, grant money in a lab is exhausted faster than Ms. Kardashian with her marriage.” As the light bulb turns on, you say, “I geeeeet it nowwww!” Then you will actually become involved in awareness and finding a cure instead of “raising awareness” via lame, encrypted statuses. It is my hope you would, anyways.

When it comes down to it, if I happen to be one of the unlucky eight women, I want to know that I did more than post a heart as my status, or tell someone I’m four months pregnant and am craving a Milky Way. I want to know that I did all I could do to save my lovely tatas. I’d like to think that I protected other people’s boobs as well, but much less so in a literal sense as the previous statement (though all you boys might be willing to take a literal interpretation on that one…). If you happen to agree with absolutely everything I wrote, it’s my lucky day. What I meant to say was: If you happen to agree with absolutely everything I wrote, I have included two websites that are 1. trustworthy, 2. informative, and 3. helpful when it comes time to being an active participant in the movement to “Save the Hooters.”

http://www.bcrfcure.org/inv.html

http://www.nationalbreastcancer.org/How-To-Help/Donate-Online.aspx?gclid=COOhoo7vu6wCFZIDQAodOCAqqw

 
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Posted by on November 16, 2011 in My Inspiration and Motivation

 

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I Love Love People

I’d like to think that I have a little artist living inside me despite being all scientific and analytic and shiz. I’ll give partial credit to my lovely mother for that mini being, as she is a part time artist. (I’ll definitely show ya’ll some of her work later! I find it quite fantastic.) Anyways, I find that the little artist living in me is quite attracted to people, especially their faces.

I won’t openly admit to exactly how I ran across this Flickr page, however, I will admit to a mild amount of Facebook creeping to get there. (It isn’t too creepy when you kind of know one of the people, right?) I digress.

Needless to say, I am still in love with his work. Even more so, I am in love with people, and he does an incredible job portraying these beautiful people. And I, naturally, had to share. I’m a kind person sometimes, huh?

I’ve linked you to one of his projects, but please do look through all of his photographs. Some of his scenes are gorgeous. The “make you want to move to freaking frozen Canada” kind of gorgeous. Plus he snuck in a few quick pics of my hometown, too, which probably increases my liking of him.

Oh, and you are welcome for the early Christmas gift. No need to thank me, but don’t expect much else this year because as you know (or will quickly figure out if you follow me), I happen to be a poor med student living on Monopoly money.

 
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Posted by on November 15, 2011 in A Few of My Favorite Things

 

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Going Crazy, Ladies

Do you really want to know why I am generally considered a tomboy? It’s because I generally despise girls. Keep in mind I say generally, please, and also consider that I was born female with all sorts of female parts and female hormones that classify me as one of them at least some of the time. That isn’t the point at all, though. You see, these girl antics are enough to drive everyone mad.

My number one pet peeve in the whole wide world is drunk girls at a party. They run around, shrieking and crying and making drama out of abso-fricken-lutely nothing. “OMG!!!!!!!! THATTTT GURRLLLL IS SOOOOOO WEARING A SHIRRRRT THAAAAT IIIII HAAAAVE. I’ll neverrrrr wear thaaaaat agaiiiinnnn.” Really?! They made hundreds, likely thousands, of that exact same shirt. I would bet everything I own that at least one person somewhere has to own that exact same shirt as you. Stop crying about it already. “OH EMMM GEE. SHE’S TOTALLYYYYYY FLIRTING WITH HEHHHMMMM. *SLANK.” You’re drunk, obviously, because they are talking. You know, like people do at a party. You’re just jealous that it isn’t you he is talking to.  So, stop crying about it already. This list is infinitely long, but I’m pretty sure you all get the picture that I pictionary-style drew for you.

Another reason why girls annoy me to no end is because they wear high heels/sandals everywhere, even though they know it is 20 degrees below zero or they know they will be having to walk long distances. In these situations, DO NOT complain about how cold your feet are or how bad your feet hurt. I am not going to feel the least bit sorry for you. Also, don’t tell a man that he has no idea how bad heels hurt. He was wise and never wore them because he had a good idea of how bad they hurt/suck.

Then there are the girls who explode for no particular reason. My ex “wife” (aka roommate) no longer has any contact with me because I complained to a mutual friend about her… erhmm, loud behaviours… when I was attempting to sleep in between two double shifts. (That’s two 16 hour days in a row, separated by 6 hours if I was released on time, people!) It turns out that he said something who said something to someone else, and, whelp, news got back to her. I would rather have faced an earthquake or mudslide or something as compared to the repercussions on that one. I understand her being mad, but holy Hannah, this was an illogical mess of me being blamed for everything being wrong in her life when it came to men, friends, and trust.

Oh, and my favorite: You know when girls secretly plan out the demise of another “friend’s” social or emotional demise? Yeah, that one. This whole time any guy that watched “Mean Girls” thought it was dramatization. I’m here to inform you the movie isn’t really that far off at all from what happens in real life. That is why I never ever partake in rumor spreading. I may be lying a little when I say that, but just a tiny, little bit.

Although I can go on about this topic just as long as most guys can, I’ll stop after this last one. It drives me crazy when girls over analyze every single thing a guy does.
Girl: “OMG, he just looked at me and smiled. Does that mean he likes  me?”
Me: “No, it means that you spilled something down your shirt and he is doing all he can to not laugh in your face right now.”
Girl: *Cry*

Girl: “OMG! He didn’t even kiss me on our first date! What’s wrong with him??”
Me: “Uhmmm, my guess is that there isn’t anything wrong with him…”
Girl: “You totally like him, don’t you?? I knew it! You’ve always had a thing for him. *Slank!”
Me: *Facepalm* “No, girl, I don’t like him. There probably just isn’t anything wrong with him.” Thought bubble saying, “For real, you’re dumb. I can see why he didn’t kiss you.”

Girl: “He told me I looked pretty today! Should I ask him out? Maybe I should just kiss him? Oh no! I probably already blew it!! THE WORLD IS GOING TO END!”
Me: “No. The answer to all of that is just no.”
Girl: “Whaaaaaat? I don’t get it!”

There you have it. Those are just a very few reasons why most of my friends are guys. It’s a lovely life! There isn’t back stabbing or life-long hatred the intensity of the sun and depth of a black hole. Fights are done in 30 seconds, a “Dude, not cool,” and/or a few punches if necessary, and drunken outings are chill events where the game can be watched without shrill cries interrupting every play. The best part: if we decide to go out and do something, we put shoes on and leave without having to change our outfit, put on make-up, do our hair, and whatever else takes up the hour in the bathroom. Put it this way: drama is virtually non-existent, the way it should be.

*Likely not the exact term used. But for terms of being G-rated, slank is the perfect combination of two general words that equally fit this situation. It’s my word of choice.

 
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Posted by on November 14, 2011 in My Inspiration and Motivation

 

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