Qantas (this title is irrelevant to the subject matter of this post)

Tomorrow, I think I'm going to go for a photo blog of "A Day in the Life of..." simply because I'm going to be home all day studying, so I need something fun and frivolous to distract myself when I am in need of procrastination.

Now that exams are on the horizon, I have come to pay special notice to the trivial and often unnecessary things I do. On the other hand, I think they work for me.

In high school, I was the person who always finished her maths notes at least four days before the maths test. And who spent the weekend studying every question in the study guide so that by the time the school week started, I had nothing left to study.

In uni, I write out my lecture notes up to four times. Every semester, I like to write my notes out in a different format. For example, last semester I wrote out all my notes in these little exercise books. For this semester's midsem, I just simply wrote them out on file paper. For finals, I'm writing them out on clear sheets of paper, reminiscent to the maths notes of year 12. Different subtopics are kept in small boxes. For my NS midsem, I wrote out my notes close to five times for some of the lectures, my reasoning being that I could simultaneously get my notes really neat while hopefully absorbing some of the information.

I'm constantly erasing out stuff and writing it again. I'll rewrite something if it's even a little off center and not straight.

I glue down the corners of my books where they've been separated (the sheets of cardboard in book covers). I hate it when the corners of book spines are dented. I hate it when there are thumbprints and dirt marks on the inside spine (the page part) of books. I've been using a piece of paper to hold and turn the pages of the book I'm currently reading.

I changed my handwriting three times while writing my NS midsem notes this semester. The second time, by the time I'd finished, the last few pages were distinctly different (smaller) than the first few pages. I rewrote them all. It was a vicious cycle.

But I enjoy it. I like things to be perfect. When I know something is imperfect, I won't be able to sleep or do anything else. I'll keep looking at it, touching at it, weighing up how long it would take me to write out 40 pages of notes again...

J

Bob, the Pin

I changed my mind.

I love my FCP tute group.

My tutor is basically the smartest guy I know. He's incredibly intelligent and worldly, passionate about his work. He's had a wide range of jobs and experiences to draw from. He's the kind of guy you could have deep philosophical discussions and arguments with and come out thinking, "My God. This man is right."

My tute group is basically hilarious. We're filling in these review sheets for the unit while our tutor waits for us at Matilda Bay so we can have coffee after. Reece says, "How great would it be if we went out there and he was all, 'Fuck yeah, bitches, let's get our coffee on.'" The hilarity in this is that our tutor is African but the very antithesis of "gangsta" but rather an incredibly eloquent and educated gentleman.

Wynand (most attractive boy in our year) says, "Imagine if he went out and was like, 'Yeah, these are my wives.'"

Ah, slightly racist jokes. All in good humour of course... Maybe I'm just happy it's over because truthfully, tutes with Niyi were like being interrogated. Or maybe it was just for me because I could never answer the questions.

But coffee was fun. I had my blood taken today too. Cost me $75. Piece of shit.

I also lost a bobby pin to the wind. Farewell, my love.

J

Bus Stories

On the bus today, some old douche bag turns around and starts talking to some international student. The kid takes his earphones out and strains to understand the man. The man exclaims, "How did you get into university if you can't even understand me?" sounding all peeved. He then gets up and sits at the front of the bus with all white people.

I wanted to shiv the eyes out of that asshole's head.

J

Exert

I remember last year during recess, Little Mishelle had picked up an essay I was going to hand in later that day. As she read it, she started cracking up. I was deeply offended. I knew I hadn't written a particularly humourous essay. She then pointed to a word on the page.

"Right," I said.
"Excerpt," she said.
"Exert. Right," I said. By this point, I was concerned about my essay.
"Yes. Excerpt. Look at how you've spelled it," she said.

I looked. And then looked again. It appeared right to me.
"EXERT," I said.
"You've spelled it like... exert. Like exerting yourself."
"Oh God."

I got my whiteout and whited-out and rewrote every "exert" in my essay. Which turned out to be a lot.

I don't know why but I was just sitting here, studying, and this memory came to mind. I will treasure it forever. I wonder what Chartis thought of my essay, half the page covered in whiteout and rewritten in blue biro...

J

Moths and Arteries

Yesterday, I was eating a piece of chicken and I noticed this stringy thing. I touched it and picked it up with my fingers (because I'm an animal... No really, I am) and inspected it carefully before realizing it was an artery. It was amazing. It was exactly like the arteries in cadaver labs. It had held its structural integrity perfectly; I could see inside (it was obviously hollow), it was still sort of bouncy and white.
And next to it was a vein!

Outside my window yesterday, I also saw a bird majestically gobble up a moth. It was incredible, it was the Circle of Life all over again. Now, I hate moths because they're the most spastic bugs in the history of history. It's like they are constantly having epileptic fits. I feel like they would be all dusty; like if you touched their wings it would just crumble in your hands.

Animals should have structural integrity. You want to talk about "terrible design"? MOTHS. Holy shit. They're practically the most worthless, heinous, delicate animals in the world. At least cockroaches and beetles have hard outer shells to protect them. What do moths have? If you touch a moth it doesn't even fly away, it just spazzes out.

J

The Three Incestuous Sisters

Really want to read this: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0810959275/writunbo-20

J

Ennui

I bought The Time Traveler's Wife today. It's quite good. In fact, I really enjoy the prose but the dialogue is lacking. It's very Babysitter's Club. Lots of, "Well, blah blah blah," and unnaturally long sentences.

But in entirety, I am enjoying reading it. I ordered some books from the Book Depository for the first time 1.5 weeks ago. How long does it get to be delivered? I'm getting impatient.

Ramping up for exams at the moment. It's amazing how quickly time passes. Seems like yesterday when I got back from China and started second semester, then midsems and now already getting ready for finals. Sucks to be a student, to be honest.

Also, I have no sympathy for year 12s going through TEE right now. In fact, I would say to them, "GOOD." Because going through TEE and studying hard for something (at least once in your life...) is character building and will teach kids responsibility, hard work and perseverence. I sound like a hard ass. Maybe because I am (my buns are taut). Heaven help my future kids, truthfully...

J

Tuesday's for Procrastination

It's taken me about three years to get here but I finally reached it. I am henceforth incredibly attracted to Jess Mariano. The swagger, the leathers jackets, the broodiness, the jaw, the eyes, THE HAIR. Oh, if I could run my fingers through that hair. The wit, the intellect, the badassery
I mean, if I could meet a guy like that in real life... it would just be amazing. Little Mishelle always says she has high standards. She probably does. And I used to think I did too. Until I realized I don't. In fact, I have incredibly low standards but I always hype boys up in my mind. I put them on this pedestal where they belong in Gilmore Girls or some other chick-litty type TV series.

And it's great. It gets me through the long hard days where fantasizing about some great guy is all I need; thinking about (OH GOD) if he liked me too!

But seriously folks. I'm old, I'm mature. 18 and still pulling this shit? I need to grow up.

I desperately want to:

1. Buy some clothes. Some dresses! I wish I had some function to buy a nice dress for.

2. Watch Crazy Stupid Love (you know this...).

3. Meet some new boy who will have mutual attraction for me. Why am I always on the shitty side of unrequited love? Fuck that shit.

J

Anyone Keen on Crazy, Stupid Love?

I've deleted and rewritten this post over five times this past week and a half. But I haven't had anything to say that hasn't been extremely depressing and ridiculous.

I thought I would update this blog in case anyone thought it had died in a fire. Nothing much is happening right now. Just doing some study. Downloading movies of the Alexis Bledel and Emma Stone variety. Superbly keen to see Crazy, Stupid Love for reasons unknown... Oh wait, I do know the reasons.

1. Hello, sexy Ryan Gosling Body.

2. Hello, Emma Stone. She is so brilliant.

3. Yeah, that's about it. Man Candy and Lady Candy.

J

Dying Slowly

Listening to this genetics lecture is making me want to smash my head in with a massive rock. Lots of spikes and bits and bobs and bacteria so that if the physical impact doesn't kill me, the infection will.

Shit, he talks so slowly that by the time he finishes his sentence I've forgotten the first part. It's like listening to a story told by a person with dementia who's constantly coming in and out of moments of clarity.

Save me.

J

Planning for the Future

I'm having a love affair with JD Salinger. If I should ever commit suicide, my last words will be, "It's a perfect day for bananafish."

It's probably not the best idea to read him regularly because you will probably fall into a deep depression and kill yourself. But if you ever feel in a "fuck the world" mood, he's a good substitute for a bottle of absinthe. He captures the feelings of being alone and different and tired of everyone else perfectly.

So, to add to my suicide plan, you'll probably find me holding Catcher in the Rye in my right hand and a donut in my left.

Buffet tonight. Wearing my Eating Dress AKA my graduation dress. Fuck those who say you shouldn't fill up on rolls at a buffet. I love me a good dinner roll.

J

Cadaver Chunks and Baby Juice

I am casually sitting here, at my desk, as I usually do for about eight hours every Tuesday. I skip my two hours of lecture on Tuesday afternoons and use this time to prep for anatomy lab tomorrow. I just ate a muffin and realized I've probably ingested some cadaver tissue. It's really hard to handle your lab book while in the cadaver lab and not touch it with the gloved hand you've used to touch the cadavers. While I try my hardest not to contaminate my book, I'm sure I have. And I've been writing in my book and eating my muffin at the same time.

It's probably a good thing I've already started eating Cadaver Chunks because I can build up my immunity for when I get Baby Juice in my mouth in fifth year when we do obs rotations.

I hope this talk disgusted you as much as it is disgusting me.

J

Reece Tucker Must Die

I think I've already said this but I always walk out of my FCP Monday tutorial feeling harassed and humiliated. Today was no exception. My tutor thinks I'm an idiot and, fair enough, I am fairly stupid compared to the other people in my class. He always says to me, "Have you read the article I sent you?" Yes, I read the article. I read it three times. I took two pages of notes on it. And still, I can't recall the facts and figures like other people in my class (fucking Reece) on a moment's notice. It pisses me off to no extent. That feeling where you work so hard, you want to show people that you're putting in the work and not some slacker, and it just doesn't happen. It's so frustrating and infuriating.

Fucking Reece. He walks around class with no shoes on. No shoes. Put some fucking shoes on, bogan.
Also, fuck cyclists. I drove to uni today and there was this one cyclist on Winthrop Ave that was just up in my grill. The road is a 70kmh road. It is a busy road. You encounter a cyclist cycling at 20kmh. I had to slow down three times to 20kmh to wait for a gap in the lane next to me to overtake because I kept getting stuck at the lights and this guy would overtake me again. I congested the road because I had to wait and got honked at.
I'm sure some drivers are assholes, but for the most part I see drivers going out of their way to avoid cyclists. Cycling on a 70kmh busy road at 7.30am is so dangerous. There is no bike path. I don't understand why they do this. It just seems illogical to have 20kmh vehicles on a road where everyone else is going 70kmh. We need bike paths. In the meantime, I honestly think cyclists should gtfo before I shiv them.

I'm not just thinking about the guilt and the legalities if I hit a cyclist. I'm thinking about the cyclist and how they could die.
J

PS: His name's not actually Reece Tucker...

I'm Ruined

Yesterday, my FCP tutorial practiced respiratory exams. We had to auscultate each other's backs and chests and bits and bobs. It was fantastic except Big Michelle approved Most Attractive Boy in Our Year was absent. A pity. I would have liked to auscultate his bits and bobs.

Anyway, F ended up auscultating my bits and bobs. And I his. He was so anxious whilst auscultating me. He had to listen to the front of my neck just above my collarbone and he had to push my hair away. But it kept flipping back to cover my collarbone. And it was hilarious. See, this would have made me all jittery and heart-jumpy about two months ago. But yesterday, I wanted to laugh so that I cried. When I went to auscultate his back he refused to take his shirt off.

I wasn't like, "TAKE YO SHIRT OFF, MAN." But it's usually a given that when a boy is being examined they take their shirt off so it's easier to practice. However, F just full on didn't. Didn't offer. Instead, he offered to tenderly lift up his shirt at the back so I could listen. I wanted to make some inappropriate jokes as I saw him bending over with his shirt about his head.
J

Cary Huntzberger

I don't know what it is about Logan Hamburger that's getting to me. I find him infinitely attractive for some reason. This has been further reinforced by The Good Wife in which he plays one Cary Agos. He's so suave, so debonair, yards of charm and swashbuckling wit. But then on Gilmore Girls... Argh, it feels wrong. It just feels wrong. I see it now after the mysterious "B" wrote a comment mentioning it. They don't have that giddy, passionate thing that Rory had with Dean and Jess.

Midsem tomorrow. Wish me luck.

J

I Need a Hobby

Two Gilmore Girls related epiphanies in one night. I finally see the (true) appeal in Luke.

At first I just always though Lorelai was too good for him. He was so small town and she was so quirky and glamourous. And he always did that snorting thing which I hated. But then, in this episode, Lorelai has a meltdown and she's so upset and he's so unbelievably caring. And sweet. And tells her it's going to be alright. It hit me that he's that guy. He always tries to do the right thing. He always looks out for others. He's always reliable and good natured.

Lorelai sometimes goes on about how she wishes every once in a while that she had a husband who could look out for her and take care of her when she was in trouble. But she does have that with Luke because even when they're not together he's still that person she can turn to when she really is desperate and in need of help.

Bitch needs to check her contact lenses.
J

Maybe I Should Have Gone to Med Dinner...

I think I finally see the appeal of Jess Mariano.

I just bought seasons two, four and six of Gilmore Girls (because I bought one, three and five about half a year ago) and now have the complete series. Or what I consider the complete series because, let's be honest, season seven was a total joke. I mean, the Paris thing with Chris and Lorelai? I wanted to impale myself. And I LOVE Chris. He's just so dashing and sweet. The only good thing about season seven was that one scene where Lorelai breaks up with Chris. It's so bittersweet.

So anyway, back to Jess Mariano. I'm watching season seven at the moment when Jess comes back for one episode (although I think he comes back again later in the season anyway...) and he avoids Rory all day and leaves when he sees her. But then, at the Firelight Festival she sees him first and yells at him that it's her town and she gets to run away. When he catches up to her and she tells him how she's imagined this moment, wondering what he could possibly say to her after leaving without any explanation or goodbye... he just says, "I love you, Rory."

And it's beautiful. Because you see it all then. The loneliness, the hopelessness, the childishness in his eyes. He has noone and nowhere to go. I know that Jess turns out alright in the end but he was so cut up in the first few seasons. It's extremely sad and sweet (which would equal bittersweet but I've already used that word in this post) and just beautiful. The best stories are, right? Jane Eyre, for instance (although there's a happy ending ultimately).
Yeah, he's blind and has no hands or whatever (I can't remember) but he's reunited with Jane! The only woman he ever loved! Actually, it's slightly comparable to the dynamic between Jess and Rory...
J