Hell. And not the fun kind.

While all of my friends at Ross are enjoying their three day Mid-Semester Break following their respective Hell Weeks, I am entering the fourth and most hellacious week of my Hell Month.

Short version for those who have not had the pleasure of listening to me whining complaining explaining neutrally and unbiasedly SMU's way of masochistically torturing us providing us with a efficient learning environment for Physiology 1.

Yes, I realize I've taken this course once before. No need to remind me of that Ron dad everyone.

Here's a short side-by-side comparison of Physio 1 at Ross vs. SMU.

Now, I realize that we just haven't found a full-time professor yet, and so the students will just have to be flexible (I'm really starting to hate that word) until that time comes. And I honestly think that Dr. Roy is a really good prof, he really does genuinely care about us, however he just isn't the right guy to be teaching this material in an expedited format. It almost upsets me more to have him teaching us now, because I can see very clearly that I am missing out on some very important material simply due to the fact that we're cramming 4 weeks of material into 4 days.

So to conclude, I'm sorry I've been rather taciturn on this blog lately, but we had a pretty major phys test last Friday (covered Cardio, Muscle, Senses, and a little Intravascular phys), we have an anatomy exam on Monday that everyone is playing catch up for due to phys (covers pelvic limb, abdomen, and male/female repro), Tuesday we have a makeup ORAL exam for phys to try and replace our grade from two weeks ago (the test that covered Neuro Phys, pretty much the entire class failed it so he's giving us a chance to replace that test grade...did I mention how much I hate ORAL tests?), and this Friday we have our last phys test (covers the rest of Intravascular, Renal, and Respiratory).

Basically I've been having a month-long panic attack.

Whoo-hoo.

Personality tests are only worth the paper they are printed on. I think some guy named Carl said that.

Twice now I've taken a Myers-Briggs personality test, most recently here. Twice now I've gotten (almost) the same score: ISFJ (before it was INFJ).

* * * * * * * * * *

· Where you focus your attention

What MB says: Introversion (I) — People who prefer Introversion tend to focus their attention on the inner world of ideas and impressions.

What I say: Basically I'm a selfish bitch who prefers to be in the company of Me. That way I know I won't get annoyed by fuckwits. And I spend most of my time daydreaming about things that will never happen.

· The way you take in information

What MB says: Sensing (S) — Jung saw Introvert/Sensing as something of an oxymoron: sensing, which is a perceiving function, focused inward and thus away from that which is perceived (the "object"). In this light, he described this sensing as something removed from reality, full of archetypes/mythical figures/hobgoblins; sensing of one's own set of forms.

What I say: Who the hell are you calling a moron? And I am completely grounded in reality. I know everything there is to know about Edward Cullen, King Arthur, Harry Potter and Brit Brit.

· The way you make decisions

What MB says: Feeling (F) — People who prefer Feeling tend to make decisions based primarily on values and on subjective evaluation of person-centered concerns.

What I say: I am retarded and listen to my heart instead of my head 9 times out of 10. Basically that means I end up getting screwed by all of the Thinkers out there who see Feeling as a fault and take advantage. Oh, and I can't make a single freaking decision without consulting at least 3 people. Fail.

· How you deal with the outer world

What MB says: Judging (J) — People who prefer Judging tend to like a planned and organized approach to life and prefer to have things settled.

What I say: I have OCD.

* * * * * * * * * *

It seems my personality type (both old and new) is very rare. I think the percentage is something like less than 5% of a typical group of people, smaller in smaller groups. At Ross when we split up based on our first two types (introvert and intuitive) my group totalled 8 out of 120+/- people. I think there was only one other person with my exact INFJ type.

I've always known I'm unique.

The funny thing is FR took this test today and emailed me her results: INFJ. As in, out of 9 students in our class, both of us are the same. Assuming no one else in the group has anything close to us, we have broken through expectations and will be 20% of our group.

I can just see it now: FR and I are going to be these two troublemakers smart chicks who Introvertly claim our seats in the back corner, Intuitively cowering when the prof is getting ready to call on someone, Feeling the need to flee when our name is called, and Judging our sanity in choosing to go to vet school at all when our wish to become immediately invisible is not granted.

Well that last bit is probably more me and my lack of living in reality/belief in hobgoblins.

Whatevs.

This shit's gonna be Super Fun. Bring it on, bitches.

(If you're bored and want to know more about my personality, read on. If not, you suck.)

(I added amusing anecdotes and bolded the points that really don't sound like me at all.)

* * * * * * * * * *

Introverted Sensing Feeling Judging
by Marina Margaret Heiss

ISFJs are characterized above all by their desire to serve others [read: The Servant Leader], their "need to be needed." In extreme cases, this need is so strong that standard give-and-take relationships are deeply unsatisfying to them; however, most ISFJs find more than enough with which to occupy themselves within the framework of a normal life. [What does the mean exactly?] (Since ISFJs, like all SJs, are very much bound by the prevailing social conventions, their form of "service" is likely to exclude any elements of moral or political controversy; they specialize in the local, the personal, and the practical.)

ISFJs are often unappreciated, at work, home, and play. Ironically, because they prove over and over that they can be relied on for their loyalty and unstinting, high-quality work, those around them often take them for granted--even take advantage of them. Admittedly, the problem is sometimes aggravated by the ISFJs themselves [oh sure, dump it back on the giver, always their fault]; for instance, they are notoriously bad at delegating ("If you want it done right, do it yourself"). And although they're hurt by being treated like doormats, they are often unwilling to toot their own horns about their accomplishments because they feel that although they deserve more credit than they're getting, it's somehow wrong to want any sort of reward for doing work (which is supposed to be a virtue in itself). [Okay, this is just freaking scary.] (And as low-profile I's, their actions don't call attention to themselves as with charismatic E's.) Because of all of this, ISFJs are often overworked, and as a result may suffer from psychosomatic illnesses. [Holy Shit I think I just peed a little from laughing.]

In the workplace, ISFJs are methodical and accurate workers, often with very good memories [my ADD gets in the way here] and unexpected analytic abilities; they are also good with people in small-group or one-on-one situations because of their patient and genuinely sympathetic approach to dealing with others. ISFJs make pleasant and reliable co-workers and exemplary employees [unless they are Cancers, we tend towards moodiness which trust me can get real old, real quick], but tend to be harried and uncomfortable in supervisory roles. [I nearly lost my mind at the shelter. Now we know why.] They are capable of forming strong loyalties, but these are personal rather than institutional loyalties; if someone they've bonded with in this way leaves the company, the ISFJ will leave with them, if given the option. [I will follow you anywhere J.] Traditional careers for an ISFJ include: teaching [my first major], social work [recommended by my therapist], most religious work [If its good enough for The Bloggess.....], nursing, medicine (general practice only) [Hells yeah!], clerical and and secretarial work of any kind, and some kinds of administrative careers.

While their work ethic is high on the ISFJ priority list, their families are the centers of their lives. ISFJs are extremely warm and demonstrative within the family circle--and often possessive of their loved ones, as well. [Good thing I have no siblings. I'd probably 'remove' their significant others in very creative ways.] When these include Es who want to socialize with the rest of the world, or self-contained ITs, the ISFJ must learn to adjust to these behaviors and not interpret them as rejection. [We are so F-ed up.] Being SJs, they place a strong emphasis on conventional behavior (although, unlike STJs, they are usually as concerned with being "nice" as with strict propriety); if any of their nearest and dearest depart from the straight-and-narrow, it causes the ISFJ major embarrassment: the closer the relationship and the more public the act, the more intense the embarrassment (a fact which many of their teenage children take gleeful advantage of). Over time, however, ISFJs usually mellow, and learn to regard the culprits as harmless eccentrics. [Interesting, I've always thought of myself as the harmless eccentric.] Needless to say, ISFJs take infinite trouble over meals, gifts, celebrations, etc., for their loved ones [Insane how true] -- although strong Js may tend to focus more on what the recipient should want rather than what they do want.

Like most Is, ISFJs have a few, close friends. They are extremely loyal to these, and are ready to provide emotional and practical support at a moment's notice. (However, like most Fs they hate confrontation; if you get into a fight, don't expect them to jump in after you. You can count on them, however, run and get the nearest authority figure. [Hilarious. And so true.]) Unlike with EPs, the older the friendship is, the more an ISFJ will value it. One ISFJ trait that is easily misunderstood by those who haven't known them long is that they are often unable to either hide or articulate any distress they may be feeling. [Get out of my head.] For instance, an ISFJ child may be reproved for "sulking," the actual cause of which is a combination of physical illness plus misguided "good manners." An adult ISFJ may drive a (later ashamed) friend or SO into a fit of temper over the ISFJ's unexplained moodiness, only afterwards to explain about a death in the family they "didn't want to burden anyone with." Those close to ISFJs should learn to watch for the warning signs in these situations and take the initiative themselves to uncover the problem. [Hahaha. Oh wait....Yeah.]

* * * * * * * * * *

Hmm. Maybe there is something to these tests.

People and Trauma and all of the Beauty in between.

So I finally unpacked today.

Yeah, you heard me right. Don't judge.

I have good days and I have bad days. When they are good, there's love and happiness and puppies and smiles and laughs. When they are bad....there's anger and frustration and tears and confusion.

Confusion. A lot.

The worst is when I am alone. Particularly when I am lying in bed at night trying to fall asleep. For the first month or two after I got home, I had some serious insomnia that was more than likely a subconcious attempt to not be in that position to lie awake and think.

As time went on, I began to forgive myself a little bit more each day. I got myself some melatonin and Bach's sleep remedy and peppermint tea to help with the over-thinking in the night. I am by no means complete yet, but I am working on it. Baby Steps.

Some of you out there may have no idea why I am so 'hung up' on these friends from Ross. I can understand, I really only knew them for less than a year when I left. Logic says the bond can't possibly be that strong. I have friends that I have known since high school; we rarely see each other, speak sporadically, and that's just how it works. I'm not sure why this time it is different, why these people are different. It could be the struggles we shared, the support they gave me (and continue to give), the intimacy in which we played out our lives. When we moved down to that island, we all left everything we knew and loved and held dear.

All we had was each other.

And when I came home, I had nothing. Or so it felt.

I realize quoting a show like Grey's Anatomy at a time like this may lead to a perception that my previous words are not as serious as they seem. Please do not allow that thought to enter your mind. Because as the little old lady tried to die to satisfy the schedules of her terribly distracted relatives, she said to the frustrated doctor:

They are my people.

People keep you going.

People are better are than no people.

And I had to work very hard to hold back tears gushing from my eyes This is why I still mourn the loss of my people. And yet every day these same people continue to reinforce the belief that it was not in any way a loss by their continued communication and support and love. And that is why I love them.

Last night I had a very serious and completely wonderful conversation with my friend Karen about our fears and depression and Basket Full O Crazy (that last part might have been more me). In the end, we made the promise to try and see something beautiful in each day. Totally cheesy awesome goal to have, and I decided that today my beautiful would be my room. Or more importantly, the potential of my room once all three bags were unpacked and stored properly.

So yes. Today I unpacked my bags.

It was cathartic and necessary and revealing and slightly torturous. There were moments when I had to stop; a sweet note from Jen, a shirt I bought in The Circus with Kristin, the little doctor bear JoAnne gave me before I left, my stethoscope. All reasons I didn't unpack earlier. And all things that had to be dealt with.

So like I said. I have good days, and I have bad days. Today was an interesting blend of both.

My life right now can be summed up with Alex's parting words on Grey's. Perhaps I should get one of their writers on retainer, this shit is pretty good. They're probably the same people who work for the Quoteable Cards company.

Trauma is what pushes us forwards.

Maybe we have to get a little messed up.

Before we can step up.

And by the way, I am completely and utterly ruined for any future man due to Derek Shepherd in the elevator with the CT scans. For serious. Fuckers. Screw giving them a retainer after all.

OMG it's already February.

Laurie, who writes a blog I adore and read regularly (read: check about as frequently as I do Facebook, as in lots), had a great thought in a recent post that sort of explained my current situation pretty well. Since I'm all about other people doing my work for me (read: some people are just plain funnier than I am), I thought I would share:

The biggest dilemma I seem to have right now is finding a way to be completely at ease (if that's even possible) with uncertainty. So many things are uncertain and aside from knowing where the shoes and pans and silverware go (and aside from my neurotic love of vacuuming), not much else feels very stable or permanent or real. So it's as if I have arrived at this big crossroads -- no, not a crossroads, that's too poetic. This is one of those huge freeway intersections with multiple on-ramps and off-ramps and detours and some road construction thrown in, and it's poorly marked and oh, it's also rush hour -- and my choices are:
1) Become completely panicked and freak out. Then make some random decision that has no basis at all in reason or meaning but is a DECISION. The Decider!
2) Find some way to be at peace with the knowledge that I am not sure which route to take and have no idea how I managed to find myself at this intersection. And just keep moving toward whatever seems better and hope it all works out OK.
3) Pull over on the side of the road and pray for wine.

Crazy Aunt Purl Archives

I'm currently working on option 3 (one bottle down, lots in the wine cooler to go!), though I suppose for sanity's sake (mine as well as those poor souls I "drunk-IM") option 2 is what I should be striving towards. I'm not as much of a fan of option 1, since I'm quite done with the panic and freaking out stuff, and random is fun when you're out with friends but not-so-much when it relates to Life Decisions.

On a related note, I made my parents watch a movie with me tonight: Failure to Launch. I was amused to find them scamper off into parts unknown (AKA their bedroom) when they realized that the plot involves a 35-year-old still living at home with no intentions of moving out. Perhaps it was their bedtime, perhaps there was something more interesting on TV (as mom claimed, though I thought the movie far surpassed the British comedy they were watching on PBS)....but I caught a slight whiff of fear as they scampered off.

Well no fear, my family and friends. Despite my constant avoidance of reality, inclination to knit the majority of the day away, insomnia-causing late-rising mornings(er, afternoons), and lack of pretty much anything productive......I have NO intention to be 35 and still living at home.

Now, to just get that thing called motivation moving inside me....I mean really, which of you can honestly say that they are super excited to write a stupid personal statement for what seems like the gazillionth time?

Failure. Rejection. Loss. Sadness. Terrible Emptiness.

Okay, enough about that stuff.

It’s been just about a month since my last entry. I’ve caught nothing but crap from people for not writing. I’m sorry for the delay, but for the first time in almost a year I really couldn’t think of anything to say.

Most of you know the details of the last month, so I won’t dwell on that. For those of you in the dark suffice it to say I am now back at home for a brief hiatus until my next adventure. I’m not going back to St. Kitts (at least not as a student) and I am not sure what the future holds for me.

I love encountering forks in the road. They can be very daunting, scary even. But it’s all in how you choose to see them. At first, I admit, I was terrified. Still am, quite frankly. It’s not every day when your world seems to crumble around you. I could sit and cry and scream and stomp my feet, but that wouldn’t be very effective long term. Plus it just makes me look like a sissy.

Instead, I choose Vodka Faith. Hope. Determination. And wine. Lots and lots of wine.

To my friends across the ocean, I miss you all terribly. You meant more to me than I can ever say in words. Thank you for all of the love and support you showed me, not only recently but since I first stepped foot on that rock. I cannot imagine a world without each and every one of you in it. Take advantage of every opportunity you have there to get to know yourselves and each other better. You aren’t just in vet school; you are in a major transitionary period in your lives. You will only get out of it what you put in.

Ron: feel free to leave as many mocking comments as you like. I’m rubber, and you’re glue…etc. etc. You know how I feel: Hate. Hurry home...my folks do not appreciate my 'singing' in the car nearly as much as you did. PS – how’s my pillow? Snuggling with my blankey I hope.

Jen: you have a focus and determination I can only hope for. I am so glad I got to know your “gang”; makes it easier to know I’ve left you with some fantastic friends. I’m so sorry I’m not there with you, but I promise I will survive. WE will survive.

Firsties (now secondies, not nearly the same ring though): take care of my Jen. She may not go out as often as you kids, but she’s a fierce friend who would put a spoon in someone’s eye if they hurt you. And take care of yourselves, because each and every one of you have some fantastic qualities and will make such unique and awesome vets.

Karen: keep drinking those beers. They’re cheaper and will put hair on your chest. Or something like that. And work on your classic movies. Everyone needs a well-rounded, if not completely unrealistic, romantic view of life. On that note, stay away from boys. They only bring heartache and distraction. Even the cute ones.

Amber: keep smiling and mass texting. You are and always will be my hero. And yes, I believe you tie Kristilee for Best Hugs. Has to be a tie, because I’m pretty sure Klee could kick my ass. I fully expect to receive a hug and brownies every break.

Anna: I will make it to Vermont one day, I swear. And I promise I will even try snowboarding, despite my fear of broken bones and looking ridiculous in oversized goggles. Give Skyla some love for me (just not on her Ringworm spots). And take care of my beautiful Kate and Meg. They have no idea how much I envied them from afar as well.

Vanessa: I have never known anyone like you. Please don’t ever change. I will always think of you when drinking Shiraz (which isn’t half bad, actually) or hanging out in Ikea. OR drinking Shiraz while hanging out in Ikea.

Rachel: wear that dress with pride, it looks good on you. I cannot wait until we meet again unleashed on the streets of NYC. I've got some bar hookups with eye candy bartenders if you're interested. What am I saying...of course you are. Take care of the Marriott for me, I don't want her to get lonely.

Arvind: what can I say about my dearest? Life just gets in the way sometimes. I cannot imagine dancing with anyone else ever again. Please finish the pages, there is something in you that should absolutely be shared with the world. Do not hesitate to live (like you need to be told that) and please stay in touch. I want to know where life takes you.

Kristin: do not let a little speed bump get you down. You are known as the laugher, the giggler, and you bring happiness into people's lives. Don't forget that, despite what some people (and by people, I mean jackasses of the sort you and I are familiar with) may say. Smile in the face of adversity, it tends to confuse him.

Cristin: you have a determination that I admire greatly. Seeing you and Jim together makes me smile even now. Take care of Princess White Heat/Suzy/Piece-of-Crap, she means well even when she doesn't show it.

Kristilee: Ah, the Best for last. I’m so very sorry for letting you down. I can’t believe I won’t get to see you every day for the next two years. Don’t for a second think you have lost me…I’m like a cestode who just hangs on forever. We will be together again; I will listen to your advice unequivocally from now on; and I will follow my heart in this next adventure…promise.

To all who were not mentioned here personally…don’t be hatin. Trust me, this was hard enough to write as it is. And there’s love enough to go around.

On! On! To another damn Personal Statement. Yuck. Think I can just submit my Blog?

Sigh. I do miss those stars.

The stoics considered passionate emotions to be the result of errors in judgment, and that a sage, or person of "moral and intellectual perfection," would not have such emotions.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Haven't Packed Yet.

Yeah, it's 1:30AM. And I haven't packed. Probably because I have a real sense of doom for grades and feel like I should be packing heavy.

As an alternative to packing, I am bringing you these fantastic pics of Dr. Danny in his new hat! (thanks Kristin)

I'll be home in less than 24 hours, for good or for bad. I fully expect an order of Bang Bang shrimp and a gin & tonic to be awaiting me (someone notify Bonefish Grill for me please).

Toodles!

Completed scarf

Wrapped up in my donkey reproduction notes

I think the green suits him.

We'll miss you Dr. Danny!



Random pic of Kristilee and I at the port after our last final.

Awesome full moon tonight

I think the goats like the full moon...

Day Three: I Had To Pee.

There I was, sitting in my physio exam having a mild heart attack as I filled in the last few bubbles, when my body decides to compensate for my hypertensive state by sending out the signal to pee. (signal induced by what physio graduates all?)

[Yes mom, I'm talking about having to pee on my public blog. I'm sure you are sitting in front of the computer aghast. Readers: please note my mother taught me better than this. I'm just a stubborn little girl and don't listen.]

Anyhow, I tried desperately to fight the need to hit the bathroom as fast as I could in exchange for just a few more moments to review my exam answers. Unfortunately, I only got to #3 before the urge was just too great and I could literally feel the bruising in my bladder.

Turns out my renal urges were the best thing that could happen, since in those three questions I changed one of them to another answer and ended up missing that question even though my original answer was correct. Who knows how many more answers I would have missed by doubting myself if I hadn't had a case of The Exploding Bladder?

This is a syndrome I am well acquainted with...called Doubtacoccus retardus. I cannot tell you how many professors (and my father) have told me to go with my first instinct. It's all good and well to hear that over and over, but really when you're hopped up on stimulants and haven't really had your head on straight for days its not so easy to follow that advice. Logic and reason go out the window when Dr. Reich comes in the room.

I have this screensaver that slide-shows a bunch of quotes that I downloaded, and this one sums it all up:

It was like Joanne was sitting there with me channeling her thoughts into my computer...creepy.

In the last few days it seems every time I looked up at my computer that quote was flashing across the screen. So much so that the very first thing I did when I got my exam this afternoon was to write that quote across the top. Just a gentle reminder to myself that all of the answers were there, I just had to find them.

Whether I did that successfully, however, is anyone's guess. But its done, only one more to go. And that one is covering all of the things I love and adore (immune systems and vaccines and hypersensitivities Oh My!).

As Anna said to me earlier this evening, I've gotten off the Stress Train (she took my seat, mind you) and am now standing on the platform at Delusion Depot. Waiting for tomorrow afternoon to come so I can break open my extra large bottle of Grolsch in the fridge. You know the kind...with that snazzy flip stoppered top thingie. Oh yeah.

[Sorry again mom, this time for publically talking about being excited for drinking.]

Less than 17 hours.

Day Two: I Smell Like Poo.

Yes. I said I Smell like Poo. Or at least feel like it.

Day Two of The Worst Week of My Life is over. I'm pretty sure I got a B+ or higher on my parasit final. Which should make me ecstatic. I should be over-the-moon and all that jazz. And I would be...if the next two days of my life weren't going to determine My Entire Life's Direction.

That's some Major Pressure.

It's really hit me tonight. I could seriously lose my place here. I could seriously lose all I've worked towards for the last four years. I can't stop thinking about it, can't stop worrying. I realize that this is detrimental to performance in high stress situations, and I will probably fret for the next thirty minutes before channeling that energy into making sure I rock these F-ing exams.

But for now: ohmygodimightfailoutofvetschoolpleasemakeitstopican'ttakeitanymoremylifesucksi'mprettysuretherewillbemassiveamountsofpeoplelosingtheirmindsinthenexttwodaysi'mnottheonlyonewhereisthewinewho
needsaglassjustgivemethebottle.

Phew.

Alright. I am prepared. I have been preparing for this for four years. I have all of the answers. They are all there. I just have to focus, have to BE the exam, have to BE the answers. I can do this. After all, I've been through worse, right? Anyone remember Organic Chemistry? I mean at least Physio is in English.

Immuno isn't, but whatev. That's just memorization. Lots and lots (and lots and lots) of memorization.

Okay. Back to work. To all at home: I will see you in T minus 4 days, pretty much to the hour. Lynn: I'm looking forward to getting absolutely snookered with you Saturday night. Be forewarned: I plan on drinking on the plane.

Today we salute you Mr. Stressed Out Vet Student.

Hee hee. One of my classmates posted this on Facebook and I just had to share with those of you back home. Quite cute....but more so scarily true.

From Meg:

Today we salute you Mr. Stressed Out Vet Student during finals week. As you sit in your lonely cubicle in the library, doped up on Red Bull and adderall, you think to yourself, will I ever really to need to know this stuff in real life? The distractions are tempting and you have just diagnosed yourself with ADD, advanced delusional schizophrenia ... read more and involuntary narcissistic rage. By now you know exactly what everyone else is doing because you have checked your Facebook 800 times. Break is just days away, and your Prozac prescription will be in tomorrow. So crack open an ice cold Carib you Academic Warrior, because you’ll be spending break in Rehab.

Finals are in Full Swing.

For those of you out there who care (i.e. aren't my classmates), the following is my dreaded Final Exam Week(s) Schedule:

Tues Dec. 2..........Parasitology Lab

Fri Dec. 5.............Anatomy Lab

Mon Dec. 8..........Anatomy Lecture

Tue Dec. 9...........Parasitology Lecture

Wed Dec. 10........Physiology Lecture

Thur Dec. 11........Immunology Lecture


Around 5pm on December 11 I will be completely done with this semester. I will also be pretty well aware as to how I did this semester, and thus will know to pack light or heavy. It will also be an indication of how many beers I will consume that night. Ah, who am I kidding...the number will be the same either way.

I fly home Saturday, December 13th for those of you at home who are waiting. Not sure of my flight schedule, but for headache's sake let's just say I won't be available for autographs or photo opps until late Sunday. Maybe even Monday. Unless you bribe me with food. We'll see how things pan out.

Shoe Box Life.

Sometimes when the moon is big and bright and the clouds are low and full I look around and get the feeling that I'm just this little plastic figurine within a colorful diorama sitting on the shelf in some twelve-year-old girl's room. And maybe one day, perhaps when she goes on to high school and turns her interests in other directions, that little girl is going to tire of this silly childhood dream and toss it in the garbage.

Which is disheartening, really, because I kind of like it here.

The Moon was Huge Tonight.

I know, I know. That's what she said.

But really now.

It was absolutely gorgeous. So impressive that I was inspired to drive past my road, into town, and around the roundabout just so I could drive back with the moon filling the sky in front of me.
Trust me - those of you who are trying telepathically to yell at me about driving through town at 2 am alone because it is dangerous are so wrong - it was far more dangerous to drive forward while staring backwards. Yes, it was just that beautiful.

Be happy I didn't try to take a picture while driving.

Tonight was filled with philosophical conversations for me (with a little Immunology thrown in for shits & giggles). I'm not sure if I'm just too introspective right now, and am therefore expecting that of others. But it seems the people around me are seriously resistant to the idea of looking inside. How can we expect to build our lives, relationships, dreams if we have no idea who we are inside? If we're afraid to find out?

I've recently reconnected with a number of old friends from years past. The memories have made me quite nostalgic for the days when things were simple and happy and secure. A part of me would love to go back to sixteen years old: getting my license (ah, freedom), going to the prom (I had the best dress that year), looking forward to becoming a senior (and therefore invincible). But geez, I was so retarded in those days. I had absolutely no clue what possibilities were out there for me. If I had it to do again, the absolutely one thing I would change is to take more advantage of the opportunities that knocked. I missed out on a lot of possibilities due to fear and the fact that my priorities were so screwed up back then.

Perhaps one day soon I'll crawl out of my head and be content with the person I've become. Perhaps not. Stay tuned.

Our Little Stowaway.

The good little vet student sits down to prepare herself for the biggest exam of her life. She has her notes and review sheets strewn all over the table, her computer at the ready for researching questions, and her head in the game. Then her phone buzzes with a text message that reads: "Your shower is overflowing and the entire house is flooded".

What is this student to do? Does she just ignore a blatant call for help from her roommates and remain in study mode? Does she pack everything up and rush to the house?

She heads home in the pouring rain, through two major currents of run-off from the mountains to her left, biting her nails at the very image of the damage at home. She runs up the walk to find the front door wide open, an inch of water covering the floors, and four very tired people desperately trying to push the water out of open doors with small mops and brooms collected from neighbors. As an added bonus they are all working in completely darkness stabbed here and there by weak beams of light from various phones and book lights as the power went out shortly after the flood began. She grabs a mop and digs in, feeling the fruitlessness of the effort every other minute as she walks outside to squeeze the drenched mop.

This is how my shower floor looks after every significant rainfall.

Mostly dirt/silt, with some little pieces of food occasionally.

The floors are NEVER that shiny. Taking a break in the humid heat.

It took forever to get rid of all of that water.

Part of this is my clean laundry that hadn't been put away, the rest was stuff off the floor.

Just when the girl finds herself feeling the depths of despair (she desperately needs to pass this exam), she sees movement out of the corner of her eye in the living room. Upon closer inspection she finds a small dog staking claim to the only remaining dry place near the floor – the bottom shelf of the entertainment unit. Initial disbelief leads her to think surly this is a stuffed animal; however the pup turns her eyes towards the girl with a look of utter terror and confusion.

Cristin extending a hand of welcome to our new little friend.

She was seriously terrified. We left her while we finished the house. After all of the commotion ended she came out of her shell and ran around with glee only seen in an animal that has no worries.

The girl asks the landlady (who, along with her husband, are working diligently with us in bailing out the water) if she brought her dog along. When she replies that she had not, the girl and her roommates stare in disbelief at the little pup shivering in their living room and erupt in maniacal laughter at the very thought of this dog finding its way into their home while 5 people are present – and no one has any idea when or where she came from! The girl thinks to herself, perhaps in the midst of this low situation, when most people would quietly lose their minds, this little bundle of fur was sent to our home to remind us of why we are here. Why we put up with the crazy locals and the crappy roads/cars and the flooding showers. We are here to become veterinarians. The rest doesn’t matter. Better yet, the rest matters only in that it will make us better veterinarians for having had these experiences.

Performing a physical exam on our new friend. She's very needy (not Kristin, the dog) and submissive. Loves to sit as close as possible to you - or preferrably ON you.

After two hours of seemingly endless circles, the floors are finally…merely damp. What did the vet student and her fellow mates have to show for it? Wet, stinky clothes, aching backs, beds full of items that were once on the floor, unease about whether the flood water was clean or dirty, and an adorable little refugee to raise our spirits and give us perspective.

Investigagting the surroundings.

Getting some ear love.

Looks a little dark over there...not so sure...

How about I just stay here and let you love me?

I intend to pass this exam tomorrow with flying colors. And the one after that, and after that, and so on…because I intend to be a vet. And nothing can take that away from me.

We decided to toast the evening with a cold drink.

Yes, I realize how unattractive this picture is. No need to comment.

Kristin took this video of the shower beginning its flood. The video is long, but at least watch until the world goes black. That should give you a chuckle.

Horizons.

I knew when I came on this crazy adventure that I would encounter many obstacles, many new changes, many new people. But I guess I never truly realized how much I would learn about myself. I mean, here I am, a 30 year old…woman? (gasp)…and for as much as I analyze my life (it’s a disease I tell you), I don’t think I ever truly got to know…me.

The last few weeks have been a serious trial for me. Those of you reading along are probably well aware of the emotional toll. But all life experiences are given to us for a reason. You can choose to hide away (trust me, that was an appealing option) and ignore the reason or you can chose to learn and grow. It’s very tempting to just move through life without feeling or caring about anything. I could probably become a very successful person if I stopped worrying about everyone else in my life. But then I wouldn’t be me.

I’m starting to find myself, which is completely and utterly terrifying and yet fantastically exciting. I’m learning that I can’t keep trying to depend only on myself, that I need people in my life to keep me afloat. My friends and family are there for me, just like I am there for them. Laying my problems on them is not a burden. People actually seem happy when I go to them for help. People don’t lose faith in you just because you lose faith in yourself. The good ones help you find it again.

I’m starting to see a deeper spiritual side to life. There is so much beauty in the world that we take for granted, so much around us to appreciate. It’s really hard to maintain a negative attitude when you see this in the morning:

Kristin snapped this from our porch the morning of a physio exam

I have to believe there is a reason; there is meaning to my being here. The people I encounter on my path, I touch their lives for a reason as much as they touch mine. I want to be the best person I can be, I want to be remembered fondly when I am gone.

I’ve become obsessed with the night sky. In the States, there are so many lights at night I rarely see more than a handful of stars. I never understood the meaning of “a blanket of stars” until living here. It’s amazing. The night sky is inky black and there are billions of stars of all sizes literally blanketing the sky. During my particularly bad weeks, I took to going outside and just standing there, getting lost in those stars. The Little Dipper in particular is of comfort, not sure why. I know it sounds stupid, but when I was a kid that was my favorite constellation. And it was so rare to find it in Tampa. But in these last few weeks that constellation has been front and center every night. Even when it’s cloudy, I look up and it’s there poking through a hole in the clouds. I like to think that it knows I need comfort, so it makes itself available as often as possible so that no matter what when I look in the sky it is there just for me.

I have a deeper appreciation for family. My parents have been by my side every step in my life. My first time away at camp, as a gawky little 12 year old, and my mother was there making my bed (you should always make your bed before you do anything else, that’s her motto). My first big dance, dad redressed my boyfriend so I wouldn’t look overdressed next to him. And while that mortified me at the time, I think both Benji and I look back at that night with fondness. My first car accident, a terrifying experience, and my dad was there front and center taking charge – despite the shock that he must have felt seeing the damage. My first day at college, again my mother immediately makes my bed. I know it sounds silly, but she is completely right – if everything else in your life is in turmoil, at least you have a nice clean bed to sleep in. Perhaps that’s why when I visit people’s rooms here, I immediately start to smooth the covers and fluff the pillows. Those first few months after I graduated college and moved back to Tampa, when I had no job and no friends and I was in a really low place, my parents were there every night calling and feeding me and taking me out. My dad was there with the perfect words when I got fired from my first major job. Both of them supported me when I decided to change careers, and then when I decided to go back to school. And when I was frustrated with the application process for vet school, neither of them let me quit. When I presented them with the idea of going off to a vet school outside the US, I think they were both equally excited and saddened. And days before I left (probably because she couldn’t make my bed when I got there) my mother was with me, packing my bags like a professional traveler. I didn’t cry when I left, or in the months thereafter. But every day that I am not with them my heart breaks a little. Every time I experience something new, every time I learn something new, I turn to look for them so I can share. And every time I remember that they aren’t nearby.

Everyone who knows me knows my [current] views on children. They terrify me, every aspect of them. They are a blank slate that can be molded into anything, do the wrong thing and they are scarred for life. And while I have been adamant in the past that no wriggly little parasitic baby will be coming out of this uterus, I have to say the clock has been ticking for longer than I care to admit. So if, one day when hell has frozen over and bacon is flying, I do have a child...I hope to God and all that is holy in this world that I am half the parent my folks were for me. Because if I am, that child will probably turn out pretty decent.

I hope everyone in my life is lucky enough to find themselves. It’s scary and sad and wonderful and amazing all rolled up into one emotional bundle. And most of all: it’s a brand new beginning. There’s a whole world out there waiting for me. So many opportunities and people and experiences and challenges. Some good, some bad, some both. But all worth it in the end.

“It’ll be alright in the end. If it’s not alright, it’s not the end.”

Enough.

Shower. Flooded. Entire. Room. (Thank you roommates for your mopping skills)

Sewage smell pervasive.

100% humidity inside and out.

Brain. Starting. To. Crack.

You know you're* stressed when......

....you have abnormally violent reactions at Subway when they are out of Italian Herbs & Cheese bread. And meatballs. And they won't toast your friend's sub because it has a mayonnaise product on it. It was Tuna Salad. Seriously.

....nothing seems to calm your turbulent thoughts except knitting (how many scarves does a girl need in boiling St. Kitts?) or staring at the night sky looking for constellations...or meaning.

....you did something you've never had to do before in your life because Daddy and/or [insert boyfriend's name here] has always been there to do it for you: you killed a [big freaking monster] roach. With military-like precision. And liked it.

....you start to use Facebook/blog to vocalize your feelings in not-so-subtle ways. Because you just don't know what else to do.

....people greet you with "what's wrong?" instead of "good morning".

....you check your email accounts/Facebook/MySpace/Ravelry 20 times a day to avoid....well, everything else.

....you can actually hear your head cracking under the pressure.

*And by "you're", I am of course referring to "me". Welcome to my [current, hopefully temporary] world.

Really? Do these locals not understand that we've got ENOUGH going on?!

I've got to say I'm finding it very hard to focus this semester. And considering this is the hardest of the 7, that's not good news. I'm not sure what is different, why my motivation levels have changed, but c'mon!!

Wednesday we have our second parasitology exam, which I really need to rock. There will be around 60 parasites covered, both dog/cat and equine. I can actually feel my blood pressure rise at the mention. And to make matter more fun, next week we have our second anatomy lab exam that covers the lower half of the thoracic limb and all of the pelvic limb, thorax, and abdomen! ACK!

I hope everyone at home are doing well, and I'm sorry I've not been much of a good relative/friend/etc. lately. I hope you all understand my taciturn attitude and I look forward to catching up with you over break.

OH - and to add to that blood pressure thing....more break-ins reported tonight in my neighborhood. So I've got that going for me. Which is nice.

Need some cheese for my whine.

I try to keep this blog happy and chipper so my readers (all two of you, thanks mom & dad) get the impression everything on The Rock is honky dory.

Well, it's not.

I am breaking new ground right now: I am admitting to being seriously frustrated with life (publicly admitting, not normally my thing). I cannot maintain focus, cannot retain any of this BS, and am in a constant state of feeling like a grain of dirt under Vet School's shoe. Pretty much 24/7 I just want to tuck myself into the corner and listen to loud sappy music and consider crying (also not really my thing).

I am also frustrated with some of the people around me, people who seem to think they know what's best for me and won't just let me BE. Things in life change rather frequently (what's that quote about the only constant in life?), and sometimes good changes in one person's life might be not so great in another's. Does that mean that the person whose life changes for the good should give that up? Why can't we all just live and let live? I'm a serious 'phase' person, just like the tide I have my ups and downs. And being the stubborn jackass that I am, I have to work through life on my own. Why can't people understand that the harder they push me the harder I pull away?

Lately I've been in a constant state of feeling lonely. Even amongst crowds of friends, people whom I love and adore. It's like there's a void in my life that I can't quite figure out. I think that's part of what is making me want to "build a fort in the attic" to hide in (to quote Laura); perhaps that's what's been distracting me.

Please don't read too much into this, get concerned, write comments with attempts at encouragement or pity. I appreciate your thoughts...and I know there are many people out there in my support web (I'm even lucky enough to have a few of those here). You are all appreciated and loved. I just wanted to vent to something abstract and nonresponsive (blog)....

Okay, study break is over. Back to immuno and its wonderful simplicity. Ahh...life without sarcasm would be truly unimaginative and dull indeed.

Breaking news....

My neighbor's place across the street was broken into last night. While this is a common occurance in St. Kitts - especially where students are concerned as we are all assumed to be related to Bill Gates - this was fairly close to home.

Our bedroom doors are equipped with keyed deadbolts so we can lock ourselves in when we go to sleep at night. Last night, my neighbors (who are in my semester) locked up the outside locks, and while one roomie locked his bedroom door the other passed out for a nap that lastest into the night. He woke up in the wee hours of the morning to find a guy in his room. Creepy! The guy drilled through their front door's deadbolt, then helped himself to my neighbor's laptop, wallet, and phones before being caught and chased out of the house.

What a way to start the day....

All the way to Hell Week...and not quite back yet.

It's Hell Week folks, that fun second semester hazing ritual in which we all sit around stunned and wonder when the upperclassmen and professors are planning to jump out from behind things and yell "Surprise! You're on Candid Camera!"

Schedule of events:

Monday 9/22...........Physiology 2, Exam 1
Tuesday 9/23..........."Day of Recuperation" (AKA Day of Panic)
Wednesday 9/24......Parasitology, Exam 1
Thursday 9/25.........Gross Anatomy 2 LAB, Exam 1
Friday 9/26..............Gross Anatomy 2 PALPATION, Exam 1
Monday 9/29...........Gross Anatomy 2 LECTURE, Exam 1
Tuesday 10/07.........Immunology, Exam 1

I realize the last two aren't technically this week, but really folks. Cut me a little slack on the technicalities and look at the Big Picture.

I have been seriously fighting the urge to crawl into my closet, curl into a little ball, put on my headphones, and let the week pass me by.