Sixty-eight, Names

It's getting a bit confusing probably keeping track of all my good friends. So here I am attempting a listing of them and with names that I chose not by asking them, but based on characteristics that come to my mind.

Valiben - My baby cousin. I love her.

Beatnik - We've known each other since elementary school and our mutual love for video games. He has a English deg...my bad, an English degree and as of this year is pursuing work with AmeriCorps for nine months before starting graduate school. He is the youngest from a family that has welcomed me into their arms as one of their own. I am proud to be called one of their brothers.

Lord Chaos - The next oldest brother to the Beatnik, his propensity to know all sorts of information is well documented by us and well-respected. His steadfast attitude has often been a rock for me during unsure times both during my undergraduate career and currently during my professional one.

Engineer - This is our Texan friend--Texan because he began his post-collegiate career at a job down there recently. I met him through The Beatnik during my middle school years. If there is anyone I can easily identify with at times, it is this fellow. Apparently we hated each other early on but neither of us recall this. Our similar left-brain thinking often leads us to talk to each other since we can quickly grasp the other's concerns.

Alaskan - She went up there for an exchange year and fell in love with the place. She went up to study bears and ended up studying bugs although she has yet to pursue a degree in Entomology. Still, it was wonderful and I even got a chance to visit her while it was cold and wintery with many feet of snow everywhere during the month of...March!

Roommate - Also an engineer by trade, he and I have roomed together since 2003 when I moved into his dorm room. These days we have an apartment and we live well enough with each other knowing each other's abilities and limits. He is strong in his faith as well as in his collection of electronics ranging from the expected television/DVD Player to the exciting multiple gaming systems.

Crazy Blonde - She too is a friend I made during my college years. She has one of the cutest dogs I've known who loves me very much. She's also crazy. My bad, she's willing to study crazies since she has or almost has her Psychology degree.

Chris - I know, it's odd that I'm calling one of them by name, but it will make more sense when I explain it a little bit. I met him during his sophomore year in college and he, for whatever reason, became a permanent fixture on our extra chair in our dorm room (granted we did have an open door policy while we were awake). After one semester of having him in, playing games with him, heading out for some dinner as a group, I returned from Winter Break and promptly called him Chris instead of his real name. I have yet to live this down, so here's some revenge.

The Kids - Two friends who actually met the Beatnik first since they went to college with him (he went elsewhere than the Engineer and I). They're actually approaching graduation themselves but seeing that they began college the year I was finishing...they're kids now and always. One is a calm, wonderful girl while the other is a hyperexcitable flexible boy. They provide us with lot of great joy, both of the nice, "That's pleasant" type and of the "I need to beat something to feel better" type.

BRS (Biker/Runner/Swimmer) - Yup, he's an athlete. And he's a classmate of mine. We have been helping each other pass our exams for the past year and a half and we both realize the difference studying together has made to our grades. He's a married man as of yesterday (Dec 30th) and I wish him well!

Hmm...I'm having a harder time with the next two in-as-much-as their pseudonames are concerned. [thinking]

Woodwind - We marched in high school band together. She played clarinet, I played tuba. I never let her live it down! Hehe, BRASS RULES, WOODWINDS DROOL! She is currently dating Lord Chaos and somehow keeps him in check sometimes.

Amish Girl - I'm sorry, but when I think of a description of her, this pops into my mind. Truthfully there is nothing Amish about her other than there is a drop of that blood that runs in her family. She is one of my more studious classmates at medical school and the one I know best out of all of them.

That is it for the major players. There are others and I'll come up with names as I continue my blogging adventures. I just wanted to take a few minutes to spell them out to those who might wonder who these random "good friends" are in my life.

Sixty-seven, Flop-flip

Glancing at the clock I realize that it's almost 3:30 in the morning. How times have changed where I'm the one going to bed and wake up really late while my good friends go to bed early and wake up earlier than myself. I used to take a book with me on sleepovers so that I'd have something quiet to do during the morning hours that I'd be awake while the others slumbered. Lately I just collapse into bed and awaken when someone else's alarm goes off or someone shakes me awake. Yup, things are different.

Goodnight!

Sixty-six, Six? Ooo, be Scared!

Today I came to the realization (based on a sample size n=3) that females have an inherent want to get attention all the time. Tonight I spent time with my cousin (3.75 yrs) and our family friends' daughters (8 and 5 yrs old). HOLY COW! If it wasn't one wanting attention, it was the other. If it wasn't one person trying to play a game with organization then it was another one destroying guest toys. I tell you it tuckered me out!

Sixty-five, Balding

"Why do you keep rubbing my head?"

"You have hair!"

Yup, kids do say the darnedest things. My uncle is heavily balding and keeps his head shaved clean. I'm lightly balding and still keep hair on my scalp. My baby cousin can tell the difference!

Sixty-four, Babo

"Is the Father Hindu?"

"No...he's Catholic."

For many years now Christmas spent at home included Midnight Christmas Mass with one of my good friends. Every now and then the other members that accompany us change but I go with him when I'm in town. Yeah, it's odd going to a Christian church for a ceremony honoring the birth of their Son of God (in my world, another avatar). But it's joyous as well in the same vein that going to Janmashatmi or Shivratri at the temples brings to me. There is some energy gained from large groupings of spiritually-minded people, whether Hindu or Catholic.

Sixty-three, YAY KIDDOS!

So tonight my baby cousin showed up at my home. She is all of three and three quarters old and quite playful. A couple of my friends came home at the same time as she arrived and we had a grand time entertaining her and being entertained by her. It really is a lot of fun playing with kids. Earlier we were at one of my friend's brother's place where there were two two-year-olds and two less-than-one-year-olds. Joys of joys they were!

Sixty-two, They're Back for the week!

I've missed my friends.

Sixty-one, The Eyes

So, I'll admit, I fall for eyes and face. Tonight was no exception as this little guy looked up at me beseechingly and I feel in love...again. Yes, this is not the first time this has happened. After growing up terrified of them (oddly enough I focused on dog teeth at the time), I met one or two here and there that were very well behaved and so cute. And, as most of my friends know by now, I have bonded well with a very cute beagle who is so much fun to tussle with. I hope I will bond with my Texan friend's pup as well. One of my friends loves dogs and cats (especially puppies/kittens) and he too instantly bonded with the newcomer from Texas. I expect the puppy (who is now with his family) to get uber-excited upon the arrival tomorrow of his master and best friend in the whole wide world. I also expect my friend to get uber-excited upon seeing his buddy again (possibly more-so than seeing his family and friends again). The truth is, I think that that is as it should be.

Sixty, Exams and Puppies

For those wondering, the one exam in question from last week's Block Day I passed with 1.75 points.

And tonight I'm somewhat freaking out since I'll be transporting a puppy sans owner. It should be quite an experience!

Fifty-nine, Authority

"Can you believe the blanket we've given to her? It's falling apart at the edges. I just tossed it aside. Help me get a new one."

We walk into the walking closet.

"See that one up there? The blue one? Pull that out, she can use that."

I pull out the blanket--still in shrink-wrapped plastic and lay it on the bed.

"Oh, this isn't even opened yet. Bring the other one."

I put away the blue blanket and pull out a brownish one. She opens up the zipper and I get whiff of blanket-factory-scent. Ewwww.

"Yes, this one will work. Go put this out on the bed for her."

I go off to lay it out when I realize it too is falling apart in one area. I take it back.

"What? Oh, it's bad too. In that case, just bring the old blankets from the top shelf."

I go off to bring the old wool blankets. My toenails always got caught in them when I was a kid and I hated them. Thankfully they weren't for me, but I shudder at the memory.

"Yes, I don't like these but they'll help keep us warm. Go lay this one out for her and then put this one away in my room."

I go off to the other room where our family friend is staying and spread out the blanket into her bedspread of three other blankets. As I'm fixing it up, I hear a yell,

"Are you coming back? There's this plastic still here!"

I hurriedly finish up and go back to put the empty plastic bags back into the walking closet up on the shelf. There's no doubt in my mind that while physically she'll be recuperating for a while yet, mentally she's back to normal.

Fifty-eight, Yodeling Pickles!

Figuring out what people want for Christmas is always an interesting experience. Some years it comes naturally and some years you have to go on eighteen different shopping trips to eleven stores until you come up with something passable. So I came upon an article penned by Dave Barry which made perfect sense to me: blame the women! Ok, ok, so that's his solution to a lot of stuff but you have to admit, it makes for good reading. If I'd known about it earlier, I would've just shopped online for novelty stuff for all the guys and left the women hanging. But, as it stands, it looks like no one will be getting a pickle from me this Christmas.

Fifty-seven, Home for the Holidays

I've arrived at home and it's the start of a Holiday Marathon. But you know what? I think I'm ready for it. Last year was terrifying what with my six hours of studying every day over break. This year, none of that (no matter which way the grades fall). And after the past semester of hectic school, I don't mind hectic home. Running around fixing things up at home, cleaning stuff, getting presents, and more is just fine. It helps bring meaning to my semesters at school. Normal everyday stuff that everyone else get annoyed by or dislike? I'll soak it in to remember.

Remember what it's like to be normal.

Fifty-six, DroidCam FTW!

Fifty-five, Pain in Video Gaming

I'm a sucker when it comes to physical pain. Dish out all the mental pain you want and I can take it but try to pinch me and I'll squeal like a pig. So it comes as no great surprise that a video game that causes me physical anguish will not long be a favorite of mine. I know that unless I suffer through said physical anguish, I will not rise up in my experience level and so I will hold back others that I am playing with. But this is the sad truth.

The previous weekend of Rock Band has made my left wrist sore. And I don't particularly like having a sore wrist over a video game. I guess that means I'm just not a gamer? Ok, I guess my 2+ hours of Bioshock the other night means that I am still a gamer, just not a gamer who loves the music-playing games. I won't say I get no enjoyment out of them, but the enjoyment comes from playing and participating in something with my friends. Not from being able to beat a video game song on Hard difficulty while hurting myself.

I offered my roommate a deal: Every time Mario died during his game of Super Mario Galaxy, I would hit him in the head with a baseball bat. He turned me down. So at least I'm not the only one who has a limit when correlating physical discomfort and video game satisfaction (after all, it would provide extra incentive to keep Mario alive!). I'm ok having a different level to my discomfort/game relationship. Everyone is different.

To anyone who disagrees, Place it up thy butter churn!

Fifty-four, Kidney!

I had this in my "business" inbox today. Thought it was funny considering we just got tested on kidney pathology*!

*For the non-medical types, glomerulus is a functional filtration unit in the kidney composed of a small ball of capillaries.

Fifty-three, Got 'im!

I spent a couple hours yesterday and finally beat Bioshock. HUZZAH! It is a really cool game. I think what did it for me is the ambiance it creates. The constant background noises from nearby machines, the blood-spattered tapes here and there, the excellent voice quality on all the tapes and the couple spots of dialogue. Everything had its personality, even the machine turrets and cameras.

And now, back to the real world where the ground is being covered in dihydrogen monoxide as I prepare to get together with my "band" and "rock out" for a few hours. And then, weather staying warm enough, it'll be SHOWDOWN TIME! Between The Bowlinator and The Amish Girl!

Life is good when I have such goofy friends.

Fifty-two, One point seven five

As far as I know, that's how much I passed by...

how close I was to repeating my second year.

Fifty-one, Spontaneous Implosion

Is this what my life will come to mean in the upcoming years? Hours spent studying, ignoring my close friends to concentrate on passing exam after exam after exam? Having to cut short phone calls with people I care about; going to bed earlier than planned because of my exhaustion; I don't like estranging the people closest to me. Especially not when I've known over half of them for more than 10 years.

Some of my classmates have adjusted to it just fine by setting up scheduled times off. But this doesn't come naturally to me or to the way that I interact with my friends which has a lot to do with spontaneity. Spontaneity is quickly disappearing into thin air. I have a respite coming up this Winter Break. But even then, I'm going to be spending some time with dad paying for my Step 1 Exam fee and shopping for one good book to use as a Board Exam study aide.

I lost last Christmas because I did procrastinate. I don't want to lose this one as well.

Fifty, Nostalgic Cartoons

"but if our knees bend the other way, how would we ride the bicycle?"

-Pinky

Fourty-nine, Future Faith

Temples in the US are worried as they watch their supporters age and their children don't come in for any services. The growing number of priests watch in consternation as slowly the supplicants start filling in with white faces. Faces whose blood has never been to India, never seen a Hindu puja outside of videos of either friends' marriages or YouTube. Priests are taught the ancient rites for the different gods and goddesses, not the process of bringing in newcomers to Hinduism, especially with the language barrier.

I have often been pointed out as an example of a pious member of the younger generation. I used to be proud of this. Nowadays, I am indifferent. I either ignore it or I smile and duck my head at the attention if it's from multiple people. My faith is important to me because of the hope it gives me. The hope that I think everyone has and needs. The world is not an easy place to live in but all of us do. Somehow, we do. And my belief is that a large part of what makes it bearable is hope.

The Hindu Temples of the future will be filled not with people from India, but with Americans--Indian or otherwise--who see hope through the help of any of the gods and goddesses (or avatars) represented by this religion. Already, a large part of the bigger temples in the US are Caucasian Americans. And whether they come to a temple, church, synagogue, or another place of worship, they all seek the same thing.

Hope

Fourty-eight, Spic-n-Span

Some people write, others bake, others go running/biking, and others play games (myself included). But every now and then, I get this different urge. I only perform it because of how rewarding it is at the time I do it. I often have to wait for a month or so before doing it so I get the best satisfaction from it. And oddly enough, the best tools I have to do it with are my own two hands and the sweat from my brow.

Today I woke up and knew I was cleaning the bathroom. Not just a cursory job, but getting down on hands and knees to scrub the floor grit out of the tiles and wiping down every surface in that place (except the ceiling which has paint "wrinkles"). And usually it has been about a month since the last cleaning session so the tub has built-up grit in the bottom that I get a lot of satisfaction from getting rid of with the stiff-bristle brush. It's like the grit is an enemy force that has set foot in the pure land of my bathroom and I'm the one-man army to fight them back with my different magical spells like "409" and "Soft Scrub" and "Clorox." The only thing missing was some soap stuff to use on the floor to mop it with a rag and my two hands to free it of the ground-in grit.

I will hopefully add the ancient scroll of Mr. Clean and the Gauntlets of Safety to my ranks tomorrow!

Fourty-seven, George O'Malley's Dad

It's knowing that you'll never see a person again. The Ultimate Goodbye. I think that Forever is impossible for a human being to really understand. We just put an arbitrarily chosen large number there in place of actual infinity. No communication is possible. Did people feel this back when an adventurous family member would depart and no word would ever come back? No idea whether the ship wrecked and all hands were lost halfway through its journey or whether the fellow traveled the world, gathered riches, and lived the high life in some far off fancy world? What would his parents have thought? His siblings and his friends? This person who has been part of the fabric of their lives, just ups and disappears.

I know I'm terribly lucky in some ways. One of them is that in my conscious memory, I have not had to deal with the passing of an immediate family member. I've always heard about so-and-so dying here or in India but never been emotionally vested in it. I've only had one person go who I felt strongly about; a crotchety old man who I came to love through my best friend. So I consider myself lucky. I complain about not having luck in everyday things but I don't really mind. Not when I know that I've had a lucky life when it comes to the important things.

Then again, maybe I did pay the price for the luck. Just in a vastly different way than most others.

Karma will continues its march and I shall go with it.

Fourty-six, Cake

For those unaware, approximately three months ago, a game came out which I was really excited about. It was just a small little game but in my mind, it epitomized the hundreds of flash puzzle games I've played in my years. Except this was visualized on-screen in full three dimensions. Just like those puzzle games, it consisted of a certain number of levels increasing in mental difficulty as you went through.

During the end credits, they play a song. Here is one artist's view of the song.

Fourty-five, Hurricane

"The whole area looks sorta bad."

"...It's called a hurricane. Katrina, heard of it?"

Fourty-four, Observances

I skipped a day! Well sort of. It's still "Thursday" for me despite the clock having gone over to after midnight. So I will make these brief notes for you before heading off to sleep:

Wear shoes outside when it's cold.
Remember your Death Star-adorned pizza.
Always pet a kitty once.
Remember to toast the cook.
Four hours of sleep can last you 18 hours of wakefulness.
People in Alaska are crazy.
People in Texas are crazier.
People in Kentucky are wonderful.
And folks in New Orleans suburbs are eagerly awaited.

I did not post on the 6th of the month, HA!

Fourty-three, Time

Friends go through a lot for each other. It can be suffering through a movie that they might not care for or listening to the world's longest sob story with a straight face but they stick with you no matter what. Granted it was easier in previous years. If something had occurred or an important thought came up, it was simple to call up someone and go take a walk to Sun/H.H. Gregg and back (or around campus). The combination of exercise with spilling out my mind helped calm me. Now I find that it's harder. I have to schedule according to responsibilities. Walking is more difficult since no one lives near a place that's pleasant to stroll around in the dark.

The world changes. It's easy for most people to say that this happens. But it can be really difficult to accept it. Sometimes time is the only way to be at peace with change.

Fourty-two, Ceiling Ridges

Whenever I'm in a room with the splotch ceiling paint (you know what I'm talking about, round or amorphous splotches that have little ridges sticking outwards so when you rub your hand up there you feel all the texture) I will stare upwards in low-lit areas and imagine that the miniature mountain ranges have turned into gigantic canyons. It's a simple trick of the light to do really, then the ceiling looks all wrinkly.

Fourty-one, Humanism in Medicine

There's a reason why the number one complaint by patients about their doctors is not that they don't know what they're talking about. Rather the biggest complaint is that their doctor isn't treating them like a person. They barely spend time with the patient; they just don't get to know him/her; the doctors' abrupt manners affect their patients.

My thinking is that over the past 60 years, medical education has evolved in its ability to pass vast amounts of scientific knowledge to the learners which, unfortunately, has moved hours from the bedside to hours in a lecture hall. This lack of bedside hours equals directly into lack of communication skills with patients. And that's what doctors do. Anybody can make the diagnoses doctors can make as long as they learn the language which is vast. So the doctors have to take the knowledge they hear/see/feel and convert it into English. While I do think it's important to be able to build the knowledge base so that everything you hear/see/feel means something to you, I don't think one should neglect the ability to talk to the patient. After all, if you know everything wrong with a person you see, what's the good of not being able to inform them?

Our Dean recognizes this and is willing to stumble along in trying to find a solution. I'm just sad that I'll be missing out on his changes.

Fourty, DroidCam

Gas to drive home - $25
Having to get up at 6:30 to get to Staples on time - 2 hours of sleep
One new Webcam with Face-following Technology - $29.99
Being able to hang out with a friend one thousand miles away while folding laundry and without leaving the picture frame? Priceless

Thirty-nine, Compassion Overload

In my lifetime, many times have I been approached on streets by barely dressed 4 and 5 year-olds asking for money. Mothers holding babies begging for a few cents. In all these years I have never given them anything. Yet yesterday I gave some money to, not an individual or two, but an organization that specializes in feeding and caring for kids around the world. How can I condone giving to an organization and not an individual? For me, it has always been easy. I don't believe that anything going wrong can be fixed simply by throwing money at it. Rather, money works better if it's decided how to spend it first so instead of showering the destitute with colored paper with deceased people's portraits on them, it is used to pay for the creation of homes, for the purchase of foodstuffs and medicines, and hopefully on education for everyone--especially the children.

I don't deny that there are barely dressed children running around in American streets. But I guarantee that the number in this country is much lower than in most developing nations. The question then crops up: Do I support a National initiative to help people or a World-wide one? And this is where your individual ideals come into play. For me, the whole has always been very important to me. In classes, the learning occurs at the pace of the slowest learner to make sure no one gets left behind. Granted, this has changed in the past year and a half with the advent of Medical School but overall, the idea remains.

The Numbers. Percentage-wise, the US and India aren't at opposite ends of the scale in their poverty numbers: 12% and 27.5% respectively. But when I take into account the population, the US has ~36.4 million people under the poverty line while India has 321.5 million under the poverty line. For comparison, the total population of the United states is just over 300 million strong. This makes it harder for me to spend on people and organizations that service just the United States.

I do hope I have the nerve to offer up my services to groups like Doctors without Borders or go and provide free clinic care annually to areas that receive no care usually unless they travel hundreds of miles to the nearest hospitals which are too expensive for them and have overcrowding issues. That would be the best thing that I could accomplish to serve my fellow suffering human beings.

Thirty-eight, Question to Ponder

Why do some of the enemies in Super Mario games look so innocently happy as their mere touch kills Mario?

Thirty-seven, Phone Calls

So I was meeting up with a friend at the local Best Buy and was calling him to ascertain his location within the store. Of course, I happen to hit the incorrect speed-dial button and get his younger brother instead, who is currently in New Orleans with AmeriCorps. I say hey to him and then explain that I meant to get his brother. We joke about this for a minute but I realize that some part of him might be hurt by the fact that I didn't call Just to Talk. But I rarely do this. I am making a more concerted effort to do so with my friend in Texas with his new job but even he can claim that I don't call him as much as he calls me. This is not to say that I don't enjoy speaking with them, just that calling people hundreds of miles away just to talk isn't something that usually occurs to me.

Thirty-six, Collection of Words

I've been reading blogs for years. I can even tell you when I first began reading them: January 2003. I was asked to do some webpage coding and was looking for some online tips. One of the sites had a link to Miss Shauny (what's new pussycat--in the blog links). I think she had an entry up around that time talking about her mom, The Mothership, and I loved it. It sounded like something I would use with my friends in normal conversation. Anyway, from Miss Shauny, I expanded to the rest of her posse and the InterBlog was opened up for me.

I never started a blog though. 4.833333333333333333... years later, I did. Not because I felt I had unbelievable wisdom to impart, or because I felt my writing was great, or because I wanted to brain fart out here, but because I thought it would be neat to participate in something with a friend. I have gone the thirty days. What more is there? I'm not really sure. The world did not begin on November 1st and shouldn't end tonight at 11:59:59 Greenwich Time. I think I will keep writing. When NaBloPoMo ends, I won't cease my daily posting. It has been refreshing to be forced to find something, no matter how minuscule, to write about during these thirty-seven blog entries.

In the end, it's just a collection of words

Thirty-five, Work Ethic

Where did my competitive spirit go? I know I still have vestiges of it but the truly deep one, the one that caused me to excel at the work I tried, it has either burned up or been hidden away. I prefer hidden away since the idea behind burning is the loss of whatever you burned. I can recall how during grade school I'd always have the other smart people to compare myself to. And then college came and I started slowing down but it was still there; sometimes unconscious competing against unknowing classmates. I never let it color my interactions with them but I always knew that air of competition existed for me. And then in my final years of undergrad/Master's, I stopped caring. Something happened to change my way of thinking and make me stop caring. Maybe it was the MCAT semester with 21 hours and being utterly exhausted, but I always have a nagging feeling that it was something else. Whether it was my larger interest in my friends, more games to play, more videos to watch, or more books to read, something changed in this world, in my brain to make my work ethic alter.

[shakes brain]...nope, still sleepy

Thirty-four, Post-High School

In India (and possibly the UK), students have to take placement exams at the end of high school to see if they can get into college and how high of a level they can pursue. This way, professional schools can be entered directly out of high school. This is vastly different from our setup of go-where-you-will to get whatever degree you want and needing a four-year Bachelor's degree before pursuing professional degrees (ex. Law School and Medical School). I have one friend who was a fully-trained doctor after 4.5 years of college and 1 year of internship. You know, that's tempting when facing 8 years of college (3 undergrad and 4 medicine) plus another 2 to 6 years of further education as a resident or fellow. But then the competition is fierce. Of the total number of spots open each year, fifteen times that number apply. And it's all based on academics rather than personality.

I'm not saying it's better here or there, just different.

Thirty-three, Chin

Our Nutrition lecturer in one of our courses has this strong chin. Sort of like this one, but a slightly younger fellow. I don't know why I notice this but I do.

*sigh*

Let me sleep...
Let me read...
Let me play...
Let me see my friends...

If you can't tell, I am tired. I thought I was tired sometimes back in undergrad. I think there was only one time where I got even close to being this worn out and it sure wasn't my final year in school. There's a golden light at the end of it; that's what keeps me going...

Thirty-two, Windsor

For some reason, heckling my roommate about his tie struck me as funny this morning.

In other news, 12 hour shift today, w00t!

Thirty-one, Something Funny

I cannot recall something today that was uproariously funny...that's dangerous. I'll work on that for tomorrow, see if I can't scrounge something up. Oh! I fell asleep while reading a book during lunch and apparently two classmates who were in the room with me thought I was engrossed in my book. At least until one of them poked me and I jerked awake. How's that? Huzzah!

Thirty, The Weekend

What to write about. There are the past four days in which I was able to spend time at home, with some little kiddos, play many video games, finish a book, and got to hang out with one of my best friends. But my heart isn't into writing on that. With the advent of Sunday evening, my friend is back in Texas, the video game of the month is on another computer, and sleep requirements will force me to bed around 9 tonight. My body which has been delighting in the antics of the past four days is slowing down in preparation for switching back to "school" mode. But my mind, as with many people, isn't slowing down fast enough. So I sit here relaxed and ready to head to bed while my mind relives different portions of the weekend. Whether it's letting a 2 year old roll over me on his inflatable ball or pondering conversation topics from yesterday and how they ranged, it's all being reviewed and archived somewhere in my head. Only downside is that I usually can't access those specifics after a week or so since the neural relations just aren't maintained. Such is my brain.

I'll be resting soon and at least for tonight I will have vivid dreams.

Twenty-nine, Filth

Daaaaang this keyboard is filthy.

Twenty-eight, Webcam

Yeah, I'm a consumer whore sometimes. Most noticeably on the Friday after Thanksgiving. I can't help the summons for cheap prices on usually expensive and elaborate items. So this morning I crawled from bed to Staples to get some stuff. Oddly enough, one of those purchases was another webcam. Yes, I typed "another" because I realize I've been purchasing webcams for many years now. To date I've obtained my own webcam, one for a friend in Alaska, one for a friend in Texas, another for the Texan friend's local family, this one I nabbed today, and I've still got my eyes out for another good deal for my uncle. As inconvenient as they can be, I really love the fact that I can visualize the person I'm talking to, whether by phone or PC microphone. I've talked to second cousins in India and England before. And of course I've chatted with my Alaskan friend and gotten the chance to see my Texan friend's new puppy. But I have to admit, the best use of the webcam has come from sending my video to my baby cousin up at my uncle's and hearing her squeals of laughter as I make funny faces at the camera. Today I setup the new camera at home and sent the feed up to my uncle's. This time my grandmother, grandfather, and dad also got to hear her crazy laughter at seeing all of us there as I made funny faces. Hence I feel that my investment in these devices is worth it. One person is able to talk to her significant other over a huge distance, another can talk to his family from far away, and the last can spend time with his cousin whom he loves and misses.

It's worth trolling the newspapers for ads and standing in line for a few hours if it brings you that much closer to the people you love.

Twenty-seven, Heartbeat

She came in asking for a pregnancy test. The clinic director figured it would show up negative since all the previous ones requesting the test weren't really pregnant. The student assigned to work with her rushed back to the doctor with the news that she was. The doctor just took it in stride, possibly because it was her first day at the free clinic too. She came in to talk to the woman, who was obviously happy at her news. God knows enough young women in the same condition, finding out that they are pregnant at a free medical clinic run by students, would freeze and wonder what will happen to their lives. The volunteering doctor then rummaged around the clinic. She knew what she was looking for but wasn't sure if they had one. After scrounging through many cabinets, one yielded the medical equipment she was looking for. Going back to the pregnant lady, the doctor applied some gel to her and then gently placed the equipment's sensor rod against her belly. Suddenly, loud sounds began emanating from the box connected to the sensor rod. Oddly enough, it sounded just like what we hear in a set of stethoscopes except faster, much faster.

As I listened to this sound, I stood in awe. Here was the sound of something new, something untouched by the world I have come to call home in my twenty-five years. Its life could go anywhere, or nowhere. This holiday season, it will bring joy to its family. But as I stood there, I could think of little beyond how cool it was.

Here were the heartbeats of an unborn baby

Twenty-six, Cath Lab

There's something neat in watching an X-ray real-time video of someone maneuvering a catheter through someone's arteries into the small coronary arteries to clear out blockages and place stents.

Twenty-five, Rice

3500 Grains of Rice. Highest score: 45 ~3300 Grains. Huzzah!

Twenty-four, Rock Band

Very neat multiplayer idea. I tried it out and have to say it was enjoyable although my left metacarpals are in some pain. Unfortunately, posting major stuff will wait yet again!

Twenty-three, Late

It's been a long day, but Clinic was definitely something I'll write about more; Bioshock will also squirm its way into my entries as I'm currently slogging through it on a friend's PC.

Twenty-two, Tired

It's been a good 24 hours. Back to the [short] grind tomorrow!

Twenty-one, Weddings

Until I saw an Indian wedding in India, weddings were always passive events for me. The different parts of the ceremony involving different powders, fires, gifts, foods, and multiple chants from different texts, all of it combined together to form the most active marriage ceremony I've ever seen. Good thing since it can easily last an hour and half to two hours. Even the relatives and friends can end up participating in different parts. Customs either passed down locally or taken from new movies depicting marriages in other parts of the country. Stealing the groom's shoes during the marriage and demanding a ransom for them, grabbing your sister's toe as she circles the flames to stop the ceremony until they pay you to let go, the friends and family who sit behind the bride and groom to provide any support they can (or to keep the two of them from running away), the parents heavily involved in the puja working to bring the families together. Guests sit and chat with each other while watching the wedding. Getting up to get some snacks from the nearby food table, yelling at their kids to behave a little, then going back to ignoring them as they run around and cause mayhem in the outer districts of the wedding. A group of older married ladies also chime in with traditional marriage songs. The priest constantly keeping a stream of mantras coming out of his mouth in that nasal tone all Hindu priests apparently can do. And then there are all the ceremonies tied to the marriage puja but still distinct. The puja that morning to Ganesh to call for good fortune for the wedding, the procession of the groom from his home to the wedding place (jaan), the spreading of piti (applied to help make the bride fairer for her time in the spotlight), the tearful goodbyes (with more old-lady-marriage-related-songs), the crossing of the threshold by the new wife into the home of her new husband. Amazing how much can fit into just one wedding.

Today I will attend a wedding. An Indian family friend will marry an American woman. Over in the US, Indian weddings are much tamer. Plus not being related truly makes a guest of you rather than being heavily involved in the process. Every now and then some parents will spend a lot more and set up a short jaan right around the marriage hall for the groom. It's neat and sad at the same time. The groom going around on a horse with his distant Indian friends jamming away to music while the close American friends follow along trying to figure out what's going on and how to dance to odd Indian music.

At times I can feel the spirit of things Indian just being shuffled around in the States.

Twenty, A List

Things I remember from today:

An orphan at the top of his swing
The quiet in the hallways just before our quiz
No pizza for lunch because they were out of defrosted crusts
Typing "Hi" instead of "hi"
Red/brown hair with split ends
Wishing a classmate "Good Luck!" on Bioshock
Starting laundry
Seeing someone I hadn't seen since undergrad
India
Pizza
Blogging

Nineteen, Trust

Do you trust people? I've slowly come to realize that I inhabit a world where people are afraid to believe in each other and afraid of the idea that others around them are there to help them out whenever they need it. Don't get me wrong, friends are there for me as I am there for them. But what about the random stranger or the new acquaintance? What level of trust do we keep in them? Those people with whom we're thrust into situations and we just have to make do as best as we can.

I trust people. People I know better than others, I trust based on how I know them. There are people I'd trust to water plants at home. There are people I'd trust to send some mail on time. There are people I'd trust to drive out to help me if I have car trouble. There are people I'd trust to call my parents in a foreign country with important news. There are people I'd trust with my family's safety. There are people I'd trust to never intentionally feed me meat. There are people I'd trust with my dad's cars. There are people I'd trust to keep me in check when I do go a bit crazy.

Why do I trust people so much? I like to think it's in part because of the Golden Rule. I trust others because of an inner desire to be trusted by others? I won't deny that I get those warm feelings whenever someone sees in me someone who they can trust. That no matter what happens in life, my respect and value for people will never lessen and my ability to help will only be hampered by my physical lacking. I think this is important for me as a future doctor too. I can't build a relationship with my patients if it isn't built on open trust. What I know, they should know and vice versa. A doctor's ability to practice medicine is directly related to the patients' abilities to trust their physician.

In a related vein, while I can lie and I've lied before in playfulness, to lie to protect an image or myself, even a white lie "of no consequence" would undermine who I am. If I screw up, then that's how it is and I don't hide it. If I decide to do something differently with proper reasoning, then I don't need to hide what I did. Will I make mistakes? Yes. Heck, I've made plenty of mistakes already. The important thing to me is that I do learn from them. And that's all anyone can ask of me, myself included. I'm far from perfect, but I will work hard to maintain the part of me that I do know (I'm still figuring out other parts of me). Integrity and the ideal to be truthful are one of the pillars of my life.

I say this not to criticize others (I'm sure they have valid reasons for their beliefs), but rather to point out where I stand and why. My way isn't for everyone. Yeah, it's people like me who get steamrolled by others who wish to take advantage of us for their personal gain. I didn't say my choice was easy, just that it is something that is important to me sleeping well at night.

Eighteen, Teams

I just spent an evening of watching episodes of the new show "Chuck." In addition to that, a friend of mine sent me this link which I loved. I used to play the tuba and marched the sousaphone way back. It's something that I love. Playing the instrument as part of a group of people. I've always enjoyed the idea of adding something to a group that helps define it a little bit more, that helps make it that much more successful. I don't see myself as a glory hound, Now or Later. For me, the fun is in the experiences I share with others who like stuff that I do. Whether it's playing music on things invented centuries ago, multiplaying video games, or taking walks with friends, Things Happen and memories of our reactions to that stay with me. For that, I am thankful.

Seventeen, School

As I sit here 10 minutes before I have to head out for class at 8 AM, I look ahead at this week and take a deep breath. It's like they're making Thanksgiving our fault so they pile up everything in the week and 2 days before the holiday. But, I know, they just have to teach us what we need to know for Board exams next June.

On the plus side, it'll be warm and raining today!

Sixteen, Goop

Imagining that the lava lamp in your room is about to take off like Duck Dodger's ship, straight backwards down through my dresser into the 4th year student's room down below me. That would be a surprise. Then again, we live in apartments so I'm sure we're used to oddities involving the neighbours. Just this morning after I'd woken up and had finished brushing my teeth I heard a loud thump from the floor above me. Instantly, a car alarm began going off. It went off for a while, I wouldn't be surprised if my roommate was awakened. During the minute and half it shrieked, I thought up the possibility that it might be an actual alarm clock sound. I have to admit it would be effective at waking me up, and possibly giving me injuries as I bolt out of bed banging my knee on the cabinet near my bed and tripping over my chair falling against either my computer desk or the nightstand near the doorway. One has a lot of corners and edges and made of particle-board, the other has a beard trimmer on it and is made of real wood. Maybe that's what happened to the poor soul upstairs.

Or maybe my lava lamp blasted off upwards, striking the resident's car keys at the precise speed and angle to cause the car alarm outside to go off. The sounds of the lava lamp
ripping through the floor is what shook him/her awake wondering if the world was ending. Seeing a green-gooped cylinder flying up through the ceiling would not have helped. Then, as I finished up in the bathroom and was exiting, the rocket/lamp made a quick stop to pick up some resident aliens (extraterrestrial, not illegal...although I assume without a visa, extraterrestrials would also be illegal) who setup super-speed nanobots to rapidly fix up the damage to the apartment. As I walk out of the bathroom, I look around and everything looks normal. Until I noticed the one alien who had mistakenly gone through the wrong porthole and entered into the Goop Zone of the lava lamp. He was slowly floating around bumping into other Goop Balls. Eventually his misshapen form dissolved completely and became one with the Goop.

Goop.

hehe

Goop.

Fifteen, Death

Count Chocula is immortal. He's a vampire after all. The only fear of death he has if from a traumatic situation like a stake to the heart. This is a big difference from most of humanity. Over the past couple days, I've heard of two deaths in this world. One is the death of a classmate's boyfriend. The other was my 1) mom's mom's sister or 2) grandmother's father's cousin's wife.

I can't say I was close to either (the classmate is basically an acquaintance), yet overall, they cast a somber mood upon me at the start of this new year. On top of that, I spent time talking with my dad about mourning in India (my mom's brother passed away a couple months back).

About the young fellow who passed away, I think it's just the shock of someone close to my age dying. I remember when my dad heard about one of his cousins passing away during a trip to India earlier this decade. I had never heard mention of this fellow in my memorable life from anyone in my family yet my dad was hit hard by the news of this cousin's death (I think a heart attack, just a few years older than dad). Since people in this world do not really spend every day dwelling on death, it tends to come as a surprise. And it's even more of a surprise when it's someone with similarities to you. This young guy who died in a car accident was of no significance to me until hearing about him reminded me that hey, this can happen to you too! In the same vein, my conversation this morning about mourning brought light to the idea that while older individuals tend to receive a certain amount of mourning, people taken before the oldest generation tend to get more and more time. While my uncle was no teenager, he was "young" to his mom. She saw her son die. It's always depicted as being something huge when we hear about it or read about it. But it's impossible to really imagine being that parent unless, Bhagwan forbid, you live through it.

This is in stark contrast to the passing of the elderly lady (who I'm related to through my mom's side of the family and whose deceased husband I'm related to through my dad's side of the family). Interesting how age is a big factor in mourning.

I think I'll just eat some cereal on Tuesday.

Fourteen, Socks

I wear through the heels of my socks and the toes of my socks all the time. The toe holes are really annoying, but use-able once sewn shut. The heel holes are barely noticed, and impossible to fix. You can sew up the hole, but that completely ruins the shape of the sock. A lot of thought must go into sock design. I know ages ago they didn't even make left and right shoes but in today's world, people probably write professional papers about socks. Then again, someone had the time to imagine edible underwear so who says the human genius is wasted?

Thirteen, Saal Mubarak!

Saal = year
Mubarak ~ blessed

In other words, Happy New Year. And Happy Deepavali.

Wish good health and properity on your families and friends.

Twelve, Meat

I can still recall the pepperoni pizza that my friends ordered while staying at my uncle's home. It felt really weird to watch it come into the house and for everyone to just eat it as if it was another pizza. And that's all it really was, just another pizza. I don't think it bothered my uncle in the slightest (although I think my aunt would have freaked a bit if she'd known). But it made me uncomfortable to see.

I'm a vegetarian. I was raised that way and have not felt the desire to even try meat in my entire life. I don't really care to preach to anyone on why they should or should not become vegetarians. It's not my place. I respect your belief in your own ideas just the same as I expect to be respected for my ideologies. So then come the questions, would it be right for me to ask people I love and care about not to eat meat in my future home? What about homes of relatives? Do I ask them to check with my relatives if they can have meat in their house? It's just stuff we never pondered.

Part of what goes into my beliefs is that meat scares me because it's an unknown. I avoid the meat sections of super-markets, I don't purchase meats, I don't feel comfortable touching anything that has or recently had meat on it. But then I don't mind purchasing entire meals for friends, even when it's beef (although veal did make me squirm inside). I obviously eat out which is a sign of faith in a system that I know has flaws (restaurants mass-produce food for people to eat and don't necessarily have the best dish-washing systems; it's unlikely that I've gone my entire life without ingesting some minuscule portion of meat here in the US). Through these two views, I drew an arbitrary line. I would trust in restaurants to maintain cleanliness and not pursue eating meat on purpose. And that's worked fine for me. I just realized that the line doesn't end at the restaurant or my friends' homes, but will one day enter my own home as well.

The correct "answer" to whether friends can eat in my future home is that it's my house and what I say goes, visitors' beliefs non-withstanding. My friends tell me that and the part of me that makes decisions tells me that. Yet I feel a deep guilt when I cause them to forgo what they want to eat.

That's where I stand on meat.

Eleven, Hope Junction

I have a couple of comparison shots set up today. The one where everything is caked over in ice are shots I took when I was there. The ones with water flowing are ones my Alaskan friend took some other time when it wasn't as cold.

These two are almost the same shot

These two are another shot

An excerpt from March 18th, 2006:
"It was breath-taking. We stopped near Hope Junction and got out of the car and walked a short area from the road. I was a bit hesitant because it was downhill slightly. But when I arrived, Oh. My. There was a little wooden bridge crossing over a partially frozen over creek which was deep down the little canyon merging with another creek a little beyond the bridge just beyond the end of the canyon where there was a shoreline on the opposite side that came down to the merging of the creeks. And the trees were covered in the fresh snow that even then was falling adding to the magical quality of the spot. It was beautiful. And on the other side of the bridge was a small cave with a short ice waterfall coming out of it. It looked like some fantastical place where hidden ice dragons were harboring their captives and there was even a pathway across an icy slope up to it that involved crossing an ice bridge with flowing icy water underneath."

And, just because it's one of the neat shots I took back then

That was a magical trip. Between seeing a good friend of mine and getting a chance to visit Alaska and San Francisco in one go, it was memorable.

Ten, Questions

"PLEASE DON'T COME TO CLASS ANYMORE.
IF YOU DO PLEASE STOP ASKING QUESTIONS WITH OBVIOUSLY NO CLEAR ANSWERS.
THAT IS WHAT OFFICE HOURS ARE FOR.

MAJORITY OF CLASS"

-February 18th, 2004 passed person-to-person up to me in the front row of Genetics

I ask a lot of questions. Sometimes relevant, sometimes not. But I've come to realize that my learning process is deeply embedded in this question-asking. So, I might ask questions and not learn from it, but it is very difficult for me to learn without asking questions.

Often I ask questions that are self-explanatory. I used to explain this by the idea that even if it only occurred to me for a moment before I had solved it, others might want to know, so I'd go ahead and ask whatever occurred to me for the benefit of the rest of class. Looking back on it, I guess I was a bit presumptuous thinking that I was able to figure stuff out but others around me were having trouble with it. But, I still like to think that at least one person was glad I asked questions in class because they were able to keep up with stuff.

Some people learn best when they sit and absorb a lecture with no interruptions. This is where rightful strife can enter into a classroom. One set of students learns with no talking, sharp attention. The other learns with interaction and pointing out of key things. I've spent much time wondering how to teach with these two groups of people. Obviously the majority are "listeners" since they don't ask questions as they occur to them. Does that mean that the questioners must give up the route for their proper learning? I know most people with questions hold them until the end of a lecture, but sometimes, you lose the moment to keep that important fact in your brain and asking it later doesn't help in retention as much as during the lecture.

So what is a Questioner in a land of Listeners to Do?

Nine, Numbers

I like the numbers 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, and 10. 1 is the bystander but somewhat good--usually above whatever is going on in number-land. I don't like 3, 6, and 9. My favorites are 5 and 7 and in my mind they're the ones destined to be together forever but for the jealous number 6 always getting in the way. Funny thing is, I've disliked 6 since early on, before my exposure to the Christian aversion to the number 6. I just didn't like how it looked. In my mind 6 always used evil tricks to keep 7 out of commission so that it could get extra time with 5. And of course, 9 was just 6 flipped so it was always a cohort. 9's job was usually to restrain 8 if it could because often 8 would team up with 7 to take out 6 so 7 could be with 5. And 4 always seemed like a fierce fatherly or brotherly figure to 5, working hard to keep 5 safe (sorry, 5 was the "damsel in distress" more often than not and remember, back then you saw the Princess once in Mario after defeating 8 worlds of enemies so damsels in distress were pretty useless). 3 was the evil mom or sister of 6 and would usually work on 4 to keep him from helping out 5. You would think all is lost except that 2 and 10 come into the arena. These are the idealized Do-Gooders. They have no relations to the other numbers (well, there are rumors that 4 is 2's illegitimate multiple but it's never been proven who the other number is) but they believe in true love and work to overthrow true evil. To that end, 2 easily keep 3 off of 4's back while, whenever 10 is written down in a sequence, he does a good job of keeping 9 busy.

Today is November 6th and this is the 9th posting. I shall make no more posts this horrid day.

(In other news, who Remembered yesterday?)

Eight, NaBloPoMo

For those unaware, I started this because I was convinced to join up for National Blog Posting Month, aka NaBloPoMo (which I think is a scary acronym). It's a spinoff of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) which I think is a bit beyond my talents despite being asked if I would be participating this year. I think I'll leave that to my English major friend as he gallivants to the Gulf to help build homes for folks.

I've been reading other bloggers since 2003 when I happened up Shauny (what's new, pussycat?) while hunting for info on making websites. Since then, I have expanded my readings to many other blogs some of which are linked to from this site. Shauny's friends mb and Jack were easy to start reading since Shauny hosted them. mb is a writer while Jack flies planes. What more is there to say? American Family relates to me more because she delves into cultural issues that can come up living with two cultures in your home. Somewhere along the line, I happened upon dooce who blogs for a living. Yes, she supports her husband and little girl with the income she makes from blogging. And she has amazing writing that really pulls you in and makes you laugh or sob. Speaking of writing, I have yet to come across an entry by Heather Anne that hasn't left me laughing to some degree or another. There are a couple I haven't mentioned, but they are either on the monthly blog entry plan or they do index cards. Then the rest are my friends from school, near and far whose work I enjoy reading and pictures I enjoy seeing. Life is grand because of them!

Ok, enough sappiness, back to that Half-Life level now!

Seven, Mornings

It seems that recently every Monday morning I wake up before the crack of dawn and greet my roommate with a cheerful hello to which he mumbles something unintelligible about where I can shove my cheery-ness (I might be paraphrasing here a mite). Oddly enough, by the time Friday rolls around, the situation seems reversed. I think it's just that by the end of the week, I'm a tired dog who needs rest while he's just excited by it being the weekend. At least, that's how I see it in my mind.

In other news, Half-Life just turned into Doom. Instead of being sub-tle with their level design, I've reached the point where I have to blast everything to hell and work my way through alien environs. Now if only I can get Quake mixed in, I could get a BFG* and kill everything easily!

*BFG of course stands for Big Fluffy Giraffe and not some big [non-PG13-word] gun...[solemn nod]

Six, Politics

The normal sequence of events when Important Things Happen is that my friends and I would react to whatever it was and then share views on it afterwards. Yet there are areas that do not directly impact upon us and so we just never discuss it. Examples are Darfur, fires in CA, how the euro changes in value to the dollar, and polar bears (outside the new movie "The Golden Compass"). But over the years, I've realized there are things that interest me for which my friends have no interest because there is no obvious impact upon them. This country that lies on the other side of the world from me causes this interest that I have. Whether it's cricket games, news on movie stars, events surround famous places I've been, or big changes in the government, I feel some draw towards it that the people I meet and talk to in the US never will, with the exception of other people like me.

I don't see it as a negative, it's just how it is. As I sit here listening to Musharraf's Hindi/Urdu voice coming out of my speakers, barely able to understand half of it when concentrating on it yet listening carefully, I realize it's just another difference between myself and people (and this country) with whom I share my life. If we all shared the same experiences we might grow closer, but it could also lead towards Sameness. So instead it's up to me to inform my American friends of things that happen to be important to me that they might not have given a second thought to. Maybe it's the differences that make our relationships richer.

Five, Pop Rocks

Don't think that I didn't really want to use the packet of Pop Rocks during my six hour examination. Throwing them into my mouth just before one of the hour sections, sitting in the seat working on my exam as they pop in my mouth. After five minutes, I would have opened my mouth and let the beautiful sounds fill the large auditorium disrupting ~149 other students' states of concentration as they work hard to become great doctors.

Ah, the lives we live in our minds!

Four, Twenty-five

At some point, I realized that the world wasn't going to let me be a kid my whole life. Yes, everyone will constantly tell me how much like a child I can be and I can enjoy events from a child's perspective, but demands will be made of me more and more. When I turned twenty-five, I had lived for a quarter of my life and accomplished a lot of things of which I was proud. And really nothing that I could shout out to the world and to get its approval. And somewhere at that point, when medical school finally accepted me, I knew that who I was mattered not to random people compared to who I appeared to be.

Could make a cynic of anyone, right? Instead, I went off and enjoyed the next month of flying kites and eating good food. Truth is, until telepathy is invented (or rediscovered), John Doe won't know a thing about Mary BoBoberts. So that's why I hope that in the field of Neuroscience, some genius will come up with a telepathy-enhancing thing so we really can share who we are with whomever we wish or that they find a section of our vast set of neurons that could grow during childhood to send and receive wireless signals from other humans.

In an odd aside, Blogger's dictionary apparently doesn't recognize "Neuroscience" as a word. Instead, as a correction, it offers up Pseudoscience as the number once choice. Silly Blogger, Trix are for Hindus!

Back to the point. I don't know if I will ever be the person who makes a difference that the world notes. I don't care that whatever achievements I am recognized for also include the name of my medical school. But I do know that I will matter in hundreds of thousands of lives and that their feelings towards me will be more treasured than the feelings of administrators for getting more research funds or schoolchildren 100 years into the future who have to recite my name because it's in some history book for some award.

Three, Spam

"If your girl cannot be satisfied with your weewee, you have to turn it into a schlong!"

-subject of a spam email

Nothing like a long day of exams to set you up for a full five minutes of heavy laughter upon opening your email inbox.

Two, Stressing? Nah

You hear about stressing out and how everyone does it their own way. I'm sure I also stress out, but I will admit I'm not always sure what way I show it. Yes, I enjoy procrastinating as much as the next Joe Schmoe but does my fine art of procrastination at test-time denote nervousness? Or does the fact that I can be extremely non-chalant about six-hour-long block exams mean that I am really panicky? I think of friends and family more during study time but that could just be because I'm not sitting through yet another hour of lecture on kidney stones or Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome. And I love playing video games during this time. In fact, I think some of my best video gaming occurs during study weeks. Amazing how fast I can rip through the original Half-Life when I should be studying Genetics (nostalgia since I just beat HL2:Episode 2).

[cocky grin] nothing like going into an exam with your snarks out on the line!

One, Hot Wheels

For years now I've collected Hot Wheels cars. Nothing crazy, just regular sized die-cast metal cars. Some had more plastic parts than others, but all rolled just right (unless they were one of the older ones I regularly played with and screwed up the wheels). Visits to stores would always include a quick perusal of the Hot Wheels cars in the toy department where sometimes I would go through each and every individual box to make sure there wasn't a cool one hiding in the back.

The oldest one I can remember is an army car with paint that has completely chipped away and the newest is a mini-tank that shoots a plastic battering ram.

Life is good

Zero

And so it begins...