Cop Out

Oh no! I haven't posted in over a month! I'm sorry! I can't think of anything worth blogging about. Over the past several weeks I've started a few but then just got bored with them. If I get bored with them, you'll definitely get bored with them. After all, no one is more amused by myself than I am.

First I was going to post a rant called the Skeezeball Awards where I went off about sleazy adulterous men like Eliot Spitzer (who looks like an Orc by the way), but just thinking about the whole thing made me so angry/upset I decided to drop it.

Then I was going to write about my experiences at this Cardiac Rehab Conference I went to, but this was as far as I got before I got bored...

Cardiac Rehab Conference Day 1
Woman 1: I am leaving my kids alone for the first time to attend this conference.
Woman 2: Oh that must be very hard, I just called my kids over the last break. (Directed at Woman 3) Do you have children?
Woman 3: Yes, I just called and checked in with my husband. (Directed at Guy 1) Do you have kids?
Guy 1: Yes I have two young boys. They are quite the handful.
Woman 1 (swinging her head toward my direction, opens mouth to ask, frowns doubtfully, cuts herself off short and turns back to Woman 3): Tell me about your children.
Inner Bridget: I have a gerbil! Her name is Penelope. She does tricks. She can leap from the floor of her cage to the roof. What can your kid do? Nothin!

Then I distinctly remember having something funny to blog about, but I just can't remember what it was. Shoot.

Oh and by the way, I finally had to pay for that freakin fence, and it is all fixed up $72.24 later.
Could have been worse I guess.

I guess I'm going to cop out and post an excerpt from the book I've been working on. That's kind of fun right?

So my main character writes an advice column called From One Dysfunctional Woman to Another, and that's what this is from...

Chapter Three of Refusing to Settle

From One Dysfunctional Woman to Another
September 5

My advice for you today is simple; all women should disband and live without friends. It’s just not worth the trauma. Yesterday I made the mistake of answering my phone at work. It was my friend (ex-friend) Helen with the dreaded news that she had made plans for us for that evening. Since when did I allow other people to start making plans for me? I am not four years old. I do not need someone setting up play dates for me.
First of all, she told me it was a “Girls Night Out.” What an evil little title that is to give to any occasion. Why? Because it’s a blatant lie. No one ever really means just a night out with the girls. If I had my way, such an event would be a relaxing occasion with pizza, movies and maybe a glass of wine (I know you’re supposed to drink beer with pizza, but I hate beer…deal with it). We know better though, don’t we ladies? A “Girl’s Night Out” is a stressful night of dodging bullets in the form of men shot at you by all too eager friends. It is a way for the pretty thin girls with noncommittal boyfriends to taunt their slightly (I do say SLIGHTLY) overweight friends by making sure they know they are not as pretty and require assistance with obtaining men. If it truly was just a night out with the girls it would not matter what I wore. Clearly this was not the case as Helen practically laid out an outfit for me (once again, I am not four).
In order to fully impress upon you the importance of my advice today, I will now recall the events of last night. I found myself sitting in a shady club with “the girls” and wishing I were at home, or grocery shopping, or maybe even in prison. Yes, I think I would have preferred prison (minimum security)...

A Day in the Life

People are constantly asking me, "Bridget, what do you do after work? I mean you live alone, don't you go crazy?"

Perhaps I haven't been clear. I DO NOT live alone.

Here are some of the things Penelope and I do after work:


We usually do some therapeutic coloring to express our artistic side...

If the Cubs are on TV, we always cheer them on!

Sometimes we just sit around and have intellectual discussions...

Of course we goof off to release the stress of the work day...

We're in the process of beating The Legend of Zelda, so we take turns (well we're supposed to, ehm Penelope)...

Sometimes I get really tired and insist we take a nap (Penelope does not like to nap)...

Then we get to talk to our favorite person...

When it gets close to bed time I read to Penelope...

The very last thing we do is watch some TV to zone out...

I hope that clears everything up. We don't have any board games, but I'm thinking about investing in MouseTrap. It's a topic of debate between Penelope and I.

On a scale from 1-10 (10 being the most) how much do you regret that I got a digital camera for Christmas?

This post officially makes me the biggest dork on the planet. Winner!

Rage Against Society

"The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of either merit or sense." ~Elizabeth Bennet in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice

It would be nice to say that the world has changed since Austen's time. It would be nice to say that human nature has matured and the people of today have learned from the mistakes of the people of yesterday. It would be nice, but not at all truthful. On the contrary, the human race has entered into a slippery slope of self destruction. Morals and values are receding into the depths and selfishness and cruelty climb higher and higher in importance.

What are we doing?

When people stand up for what is right, we gang up on them and put them down. Are we so afraid to feel guilt?

Instead of reaching out to our friends when they are in need, we write them off and shut them out because we have "enough on our plates." Where has compassion gone?

We form relationships based on selfish desires, and then wonder why they don't work out. Why do we set our standards for ourselves and others so low?

When someone cares about us and tries to help us, we are suspicious. Why are we so afraid to love and be loved?

When we've found someone to love, we search out someone else for more pleasure. Are we that selfish?

When we say "I do," we seldom mean forever. Do promises mean nothing to us anymore?

When we try to plan our futures we take into account how much money we'll make, how many vacations we'll be able to take, and where we will rank in our jobs. Rarely do we consider the life we are capable of bringing into the world because that involves responsibility, time, and money. Where is God in our lives?

When someone calls our actions into question, our first thought is always, "Well you're not perfect either." Does that ever really justify anything?

There is no perfect person among us. We can't sit around and wait for someone without sin to come along and set our examples for us. Sinners need to reach out to sinners, and together we need to make changes.

This world is a disgusting place, and we made it that way. With every selfish decision we make, we replace love with hate. Every time we look the other way, we give injustices and wrongs our stamp of approval. When we refuse to put our faith into people and hope for a better world, we cut ourselves off from progress. Not the kind of progress that brings in large sums of money, but the kind of progress that keeps our kids safe at school, our marriages from falling apart, our friends from taking their lives, and ourselves from being lost.

Fence Update

The neighbor has made great progress today in the fence repair!

I can't wait til it's back up and ready to be plowed over again!

Because I'm an Idiot Too

I did something outrageously stupid last Thursday. I hit a fence with my truck. No, it's not as hard to do as one might think. My idiot neighbor thought it would be a good idea to put up a fence to separate our alley access driveways. It's probably a miracle I made it as long as I did (a month) without hitting it. Because I'm an upstanding citizen, I decided to send my neighbor a formal apology...

Dear New Neighbor,

I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize for hitting your appealing (read: hideous eye-sore) chain-link fence. I'm sure it was very troublesome to have past tenants park 3cm over the boundary and onto your slab of concrete. That must have been hard for you, seeing as how you only have a double wide driveway to park your solitary vehicle. I'm so pleased that you installed this practical (read: useless) fence long before I moved in because I would have hated to accidentally invade your space. I noticed that your privacy is very important to you, made evident by the eight "NO TRESPASSING, PRIVATE PROPERTY!" signs you have scattered about your 100 sq ft of property, and so I apologize for having to come to the door and explain to you that I'd just folded your fence in half with my over-sized vehicle. I would, however, like to offer you a small piece of neighborly advice. If you're trying to protect your private property, I would suggest you get something a little more threatening than the Reign of Terror you currently have protecting your home. I also want you to know that I am not at all upset about the damage my truck suffered when your fence (read: bane of my existence) attacked me. In fact, I consider it a worthy and just punishment for attempting to park in my own driveway. I'm really glad that you've decided to repair the fence. I can't even imagine how I'd go on if you did the sensible thing and just took it down.

Can't wait for the bill!

Bridget

In other news...I now have a roommate! Yay! No more living alone! Hurrah!

Her name is Penelope Jones. We get along pretty well, but I suspect she does drugs. For one, she has severe mood swings which generally result in temper tantrums involving a rain shower of wood shavings all over my floor. She also tends to exert random bursts of energy which result in her running circles in her room and twitching compulsively. I usually just try not to talk to her when this is occurring. It's usually best that way.

Warning: Bitchy rant to ensue.

I'm not sure if everyone is aware about how this blog operates, so let me just go over some ground rules. It's actually not a call in and request kind of thing. You do not pay me to write, therefore I'll post whatever I darn well please. Recipe requests and all.

Recipes

Hey kids! I've decided to take up cooking/baking. This is my current attempt to fend off the boredom which naturally accompanies living by oneself in a strange yooper town.

POST SOME RECIPES!

P.S. I don't eat fish...or anything else one might find swimming and/or crawling through the water.

P.P.S. I love desserts.

ALSO
I have internet now! And cable!

Ridiculous

Hmmmmmmmmm.

I haven't posted in a ridiculously long time.

I am sorry.

Update time!

I've moved from Manistique, MI to Escanaba, MI so now I only have to drive 5 minutes to get to work! UPGRADE!

I live alone. Downgrade! (I miss you Auna)

I had my first house guest this weekend! Thanks Rachael! UPGRADE!

I have no internet...again. (Since the last post I had finally obtained internet in Manistique, but now that I've moved again...no internet) Downgrade.

I'm a celebrity in Escanaba. These jokers put me on their local channel and asked me a bunch of
questions about athletic injuries. Bridget in front of live t.v. camera = blank stare/awkward as all get out. Major downgrade.

Random comments:

I'm sitting in the Escanaba library right now and there's a potted tree next to me wrapped with Christmas lights. It is March. Sitting in the tree is a fake bird, and if I'm not mistaken it is made up predominately of toilet paper. Why?

I have never met they guy who lives downstairs, but as of my first day of living there I began to refer to him as The Yahoo due to his poor parking decisions. I'm not a nice person.

Last week I excitedly pulled my Jade Garden leftovers out of the fridge and arranged them on a plate. I turned to put it in the microwave only to realize I don't have a microwave. IDIOT.

There's an ice shanty attached to my front door. It's bright green. (yes an ice shanty, as in a shed one fishes in).

My ice shanty prevented me from moving my couch in. I had to shove it through the kitchen window. I live on the second floor. Figure that one out.

I have snowshoe buddies at work. YAY!

Well my lap top is about to run out of batteries.

No Internet

Day 16 of no internet in new apartment.

Things are very bleak indeed.

Will not survive much longer.

Living in small yooper town.

Everyone always watching me.

Creeped out.

Please send...cookies.

On the plus side! The new job is going well, and my coworkers are super nice. Our apartment is all decorated and now actually looks as though it is occupied (sorry Auna, but it didn't even look like you were living there). I have bunches of stories to blog about, but seeing as I still have no internet, and my time here at the library is limited, you'll just have to wait.

Miss you all back home!

Documented Strangeness

I got a digital camera for Christmas! Which will naturally lead to pointless blogging, like this one...

DOCUMENTING STRANGE

Exhibit A

Name: Carl St. Jude AKA Creature (yes his middle name is St. Jude)

Species: Pug AKA Rancor

Activities: Sleeping, eating, itching, creating foul smells

Documented strangeness: It has snowed here quite a bit in the last few days. The snow is high enough that Carl cannot walk through the backyard, as a real dog with long legs would be able to do. Instead, my father has had to shovel walkways for him. I find this strange.

Exhibit B

Name: Moses AKA Demon Kitty

Species: Cat AKA Evil

Activities: Sleeping, eating, tripping, biting, invading privacy, box dwelling

Documented strangeness: Moses enjoys spending time in empty boxes, which is actually very counter productive to my attempt to pack. Once inside a box, he finds it necessary to eat his way through the cardboard to escape, rather than just hop back out through the open flaps. I find this strange.

Part 3, Chapter 1

God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission--I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next.

I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good, I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place while not intending it--if I do but keep His Commandments.

Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever, wherever I am. I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends, He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me--still He knows what He is about.

~A Meditation by Cardinal Newman

The time for worrying is over, as it is unnecessary. Life will always go on, just as God intended it to. It is time for me to trust in the One who holds my future in His hands. And so begins what I like to call...Part 3, Chapter 1.

Minimal Progress

In an effort to join the adult masses, I have decided the first thing I need to do is get on an adult sleeping schedule. I have decided I will no longer sleep until ten o'clock because such a sleeping schedule will not coexist with a fancy adult job. Unfortunately, this goal has not yet been achieved. I keep accidentally oversleeping. I say accidentally in italics because some individuals (Kenric) question the validity of that statement. For the record, yes it is purely accidental that I hit the snooze button nine times before I get out of bed. How is that even close to being my fault? I also cannot help that I am in an altered state of mind when I wake up in the morning, and I forget that I am supposed to be adhering to a strict adult schedule. Also not my fault. In conclusion, my adult becoming progress is at a current minimal state.

Adults

Last night I was driving my younger cousins home from my grandma's house. My little cousin Nick, who's probably around 10 years old (Aunt Maggie?) asked me where I was going to school. I informed him that I had graduated, and being the smart little guy he is, he said, "But where are you going to grad school?" I told him that I wasn't going to grad school anymore because it wasn't for me. He then said to me, in a very matter of fact way, "Oh, so you're an adult now."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud. All I could say was, "Well...not exactly."

Which got me to thinking...maybe I am, or more appropriately put, maybe I should be.

Man, do I have a lot of work to do.

Coworkers

4:15pm Beginning of work shift
Coworker A: You would not believe what just happened.
Coworker B: What?
Inner Bridget: What?
CA: I just asked the hostesses if they had a crack rock for me, and they just stared at me.
CB: Ugh. Stupid hostesses.
Inner Bridget: A what?!
CA: I need a pick me up before my shift, and they're all holding out on me.
CB: That is so like them.
Inner Bridget: Is she joking?
CA: How do they expect me to get through this shift.
Inner Bridget: Probably the same way I do.
CB: I don't know. It's going to be rough.

6:36pm
Coworker #1: Is that a picture of your man?!
Coworker #2: Yes.
C 1: Girl! Let me see him!
C 2: *handing over picture and looking disgusted* He's such a jerk.
Inner Bridget: Why are you dating him?
C1: Really?
C2: Yes, he lies to me all the time, and he's so mean to me. I think I'm going to dump him.
Inner Bridget: Probably best.
C1: Well, do you see yourself spending the rest of your life with him.
C2: Yes.
Inner Bridget: What?!
C1: Then sometimes you just have to take the good with the bad.
C2: Yeah, I think you're right.
Inner Bridget: What just happened here?

8:24pm
Coworker: I wasn't smoking before I met my boyfriend.
Bridget: No?
Coworker: No. But you know he's got a 3 ft glass bong and what was I supposed to do?
Inner Bridget: ...and she's not talking about cigarettes
Bridget: Oh.
Coworker: So I had to take advantage of it.
Bridget: Uh....OH! My order's up!
Inner Bridget: hmmmmmmm

Planning for the Future

Hey kids, listen up while your good pal Bridget gives you a few lessons on life.

Lesson Number 1
When your mom gives you lunch money for school, pocket it. You do not need that crappy cafeteria food anyways. Hang on to it, I'll tell you why in a minute.

Lesson Number 2
When you are in the checkout line at Target, fixate your gaze on the register. Do not, I repeat, do not look at the shelves full of candy, or take a quick peak at the little cooler full of pop. You do not need either. Hang on to that money, I'll tell you why in a minute.

Lesson Number 3
So you like Slurpee's do you? You think 711 is a fun place to go? You like getting the biggest size possible and putting in every flavor available (except coke)? No. You don't need that either. Hang on to that money, I'll tell you why in a minute.

Lesson Number 4
Oh! You'd like to pick the most expensive university you can find to go away to (ehm Johnny)? BAD IDEA! A college degree is a college degree. Yes, you WILL mind if you are $80,000 in debt when you graduate. Instead, pick a cheap school with a decent reputation (this is possible) and you'll save some money. Hang on to that money, I'll tell you why in a minute.

Lesson Number 5
Do not take trips to exotic places. This is unnecessary. Fill up a kiddy pool in your backyard and knock yourself out. Hang on to that vacation money and instead, work when you can. I'll tell you why in a minute.

Lesson Number 6
Do not drive 86 mph through Wisconsin, especially if you have an IL license plate. You will be pulled over, they won't be nice, and you will get a ticket. This ticket will cost upwards of $200. Instead, hang on to that money, I'll tell you why in a minute.

Lesson Number 7
If you think having a nice over sized truck is a good idea, you're wrong (even if it is beautiful and spacious). It guzzles gas and probably will have a million things go wrong on it. Buy something small with good fuel efficiency. Hang on to that gas money, I'll tell you why in a minute.

Lesson Number 8
Music is nice. Did you know you can listen to it for free by turning on a radio? Stop buy Cd's, and music offline. Also, don't download it illegally, it could catch up with you and then you'll probably end up spending way more money. Instead, hang on to that money, I'll tell you why in a minute.

Lesson Number 9
While you're in college do something productive like invent a teleport. This way you will already be cashing in on your patent, and you'll be reducing all transportation costs.

Lesson Number 10
Do not go out to the movies. This will cost you a ridiculous amount of money. Not only will you pay $7.50 to get in, but you will inevitably fall victim to the concessions. They are very clever there and have exactly what you think you want/need. Instead, hang on to that money I'll tell you why...now.

Why:
One day you will graduate from college. While you were in college you built up a nice little thing called debt, probably in the form of student loans. If this did not happen to you, I don't want to hear about it. For the rest of us...all those loans that we never gave much thought to actually do need to be paid back. Oh and that little 6 month grace period goes by very quickly, so don't even bank on that business. While you are waiting to get a big kid job because apparently the four year degree that you earned and that nice high GPA that you worked so hard for don't mean anything unless you validate it by passing a certification exam (ok, this part probably only applies to a select few of us...athletic training majors!), you are going to need some other form of income. In fact, you are going to need a very fast form of income. Most of these inbetween jobs you can get don't actually pay enough to support you if you'd like to live on your own, make car payments, pay for health insurance, pay for car insurance, and make payments on your student loans. This creates an unpleasant situation.

Hypothetically...
You might decide to become a waitress. You might be horrible at it. This may be because you are a nerdy bookworm and should not be allowed to interact with tables full of customers ("guests"). You might spill drinks on people. You might forget to bring out an appetizer...or five. You might be forced to head to work everyday in a men's shirt and tie, with an apron wrapped around your waist. You might feel ridiculous shouting "I'm in the weeds" and so you might not get any extra help when you're in over your head. You might start to care a little bit less about "100 percent guest delight." This might get you into trouble quickly.

To avoid this awful pitful, and to ensure that when you graduate you can live comfortably until you find a good job...STOP WASTING YOUR MONEY! Oh, and make sure you pick a major that doesn't require you jumping through five extra hoops just to get a job.

P.S. Happy Anniversary Aimee and Tom. I'd much rather be going to your wedding again today, than going to work.

Chapstick, the Homewrecker

The first of the topics I must discuss is the very compelling issue brought forth by Cat.


Chapstick.


What a curious little invention. Seemingly so innocent, and yet so destructive. I know all too well the pain which is caused by this little tube of balm. It has special powers that trick the human mind. Think about it. There you sit, perfectly fine, you and your lips. No problems or disputes between you. And then...it happens. A woman just a few feet away begins to dig in her purse. You're nosey, so you watch. You become mesmerized. "WHAT IS SHE GOING TO PULL OUT?" you scream from inside your head. Then, slowly, but confidently she produces a small plastic tube, equal in length to your pinkie finger. In one swift movement she plucks off the cap and raises the skin protectant to her lips. Instinctively your own lips start to hurt. They feel dry and you lick them in a desperate attempt to quench their unyielding thirst. You begin to reel the contents of your own purse through your mind like a mental slide show...wallet, checkbook, clicky pen, chocolate, cell phone, Chihuahua named Fifi, and more chocolate. "Oh no! I have no chapstick," the tiny voice inside your head screeches at a decibel that makes your purse pooch duck for cover. Instantly your lips feel like the Sahara desert, and you stare longingly at the woman moisturizing her lips. Your lips begin to pulse with pain.



SNAP OUT OF IT. There's nothing wrong with you. You've been duped by the mind powers of the chapstick. This however, is not chapstick's worse offense. Chapstick is a homewrecker, and so is Cat for suggesting this topic. Because now I have to talk about it, and it will surely get me in trouble.



Setting: Minivan in route to Colorado.



I sit in the backseat staring absent mindedly out the window watching the trees roll by. My mind is numb from under stimulation when out of the corner of my eye I see my mother pull something out of her purse. Chapstick. The syndrome instantly begins and my lips start to hurt and feel chapped and dry. After generously (selfishly) applying the chapstick to her own lips, she goes to replace the tube back into her purse.

"Wait mom! Can I use that?" I ask earnestly.

She looks at me disgustedly, as if I wasn't the same individual that came rolling out of her some 16 or so years earlier. "No," she replies, and turns back around.

"Please, they are so dry," I moan.

"Be quiet Bridget."

"But mo..."

"I am not about to have your germs on my chapstick."

"I'm your daughter!"

"Yes I remember. I almost died giving birth to you, now be quiet."

"But they are chapped and hurt"

"Chapped?! Don't talk to me about chapped. My lips darn near chapped right off as I pushed you into this world, don't talk to me about chapped lips."

"So you understand what it's like then?"

"Do you want to walk to Colorado?"



As you can see, 6 years later, the hurt is still very fresh. Shaky fist chapstick.

Did You Miss Me?

So I'm ready to starting blogging again, but now that I have the time, I'm fresh out of ideas. You'd think I'd have a lot to say with everything that has happened in the last 5 months, but I'm coming up empty. I could talk about quitting grad school (taking a leave of absence) but really, that doesn't sound like much fun. I could talk about what a lunatic I have become lately, but I think Kenric should only have to live through those incidences once. I could talk about all of the crazy projects my mom keeps throwing at me (love you mom) while she tells me in the same breath I need to work on getting a job, but that will get me into trouble. Actually that whole last sentence has, "Bridget you're grounded," written all over it. Yes, I am 22 years old. I could talk about my plans for the future, but they change everyday so putting them in writing seems kind of pointless. I could talk about cake...mmm cake...but that doesn't seem very healthy. I could talk about how I started running again (by started I mean today I went out and jogged/crawled 2 miles), but then I'd have to admit just how out of shape I am. So as you can see, I've got nothing here.

What would you like to hear about?

OH AND!
It's Ugg boot season! Woohoo!

I missed you too.

Diseased

Some people are really good at being sick. What I mean to say is, some people handle it much more gracefully than others. In fact, they hardly let on that they are sick at all, and if you weren't around them long enough to take in all the coughing and nose blowing, you'd never even know.

I am not some people.

When I feel ill, all the world must know. When I get sick I'm never just, "not feeling well," I'm always, "dying." I am not the kind of person to lock myself away in my bedroom and reemerge when all is well. I must surround myself with reluctant individuals so I have ample victims to whine at. I moan and groan, and shift around restlessly, ensuring that everyone knows I am uncomfortable and displeased with my current state.

I am demanding.
Example:
Anna's voicemail: Hi you've reached Anna...blah, blah, blah...leave a message after the peep.
Me: Anna, this is Bridget. I hope the reason you're not answering your phone right now is that you're making me chicken noodle soup from scratch. I'm on my way over to your house right now.

I refuse anything that makes sense.
Example:
Me: I don't feel well.
Mom: Bridget, did you take anything?
Me: NO!
Mom: Well...
Me: Wha?
Mom: How old are you?

I am wholly unreasonable.
Example:
Location: Meijer Store, Soft Drink Aisle
Current state: feverish, coughing/hacking, red eyes (possibly even glowing), wandering through aisle clearly distressed
Meijer Shelf Stocker: Can I help you?
Me: *Angry glare* You can start by explaining why there is no Vernors on these shelves.
Stocker: Vernors?
Me: Vernors! The original ginger soda! A Michigan original since 1866!
Stocker: Oh! You need some ginger ale! Ok, well right here we have Canada Dry.
Me: *Eyes narrowing into an even angrier glare* Are you kidding me? I'm sick and quite possibly dying. I need a cure all, not some pansy Canadian ginger ale. Do you want me to be dead by morning?!
Stocker: I'm sure they taste the same.
Me: *Eyes widening into utter disbelief* No. It's not the same. Kenric always brings me Vernors when I'm sick!
Stocker: *Blank stare*
Me: This is an outrage, I'll shop elsewhere.

For those of you thinking, "Bridget, that doesn't sound like you. You don't like to talk to strangers." Well, you're right. Most of that conversation probably occurred in my head, but in my current diseased state I can no longer tell the difference between fiction and reality. If you'd like a more accurate version, it probably went more like this...

Meijer Shelf Stocker: Can I help you?
Me: No thanks. *Leaves store empty handed and buys Vernors elsewhere*

I am morbid.
Example:
Mom: What are you doing?
Me: Palpating my stomach.
Mom: Why?
Me: I'm making sure my appendix is not about to burst open and kill me.
Mom: Just go to bed.

I am dramatic.
Example:
Thermometer reading: 99.4 degrees F.
"Ahhh! I have a fever. I AM dying!"

I am slightly over the top.
Example:
Location: Meijer Store Checkout
Cashier scans...
1 Bottle DayQuil Cold & Flu
1 Bottle NyQuil Cough
1 Pack Cepacol Sore Throat Cherry Flavored Extra Strength Lozenges (18pack)
1 Pack Cepacol Sore Throat + Cough Mixed Berry Lozenges (18 pack) [is it bad that the back of the box has a limit on how many I can consume in a 24 hour period (12)?]
1 Bottle of Extra Strength Rapid Release Tylenol

Knowing that I am extremely unpleasant and whiny in this state, I have taken several measures to overcome my current illness. Last night I went to bed at 9:30pm. This is huge for me. Unfortunately all the coughing and hacking made for a very restless night, and I finally rolled out of bed 12 hours later feeling much worse than I had before. I went out and bought a pharmacy worth of drugs (see above), but they don't seem to be helping. I tell you all of this so that you may avoid all contact with me. My family has left the house for the day leaving me no one to whine at all day, and so the next person I speak with will get the brunt of a days worth of whining that I've been storing up.

You've been warned.

Keep Reading

I'm overtired and over dramatic...perfect time for blogging.

Yes Mom, I should be studying.

Yesterday I saw the movie Becoming Jane. I was a little weary to see it because Jane Austen is my favorite author and I doubted Anne Hathaway could do her justice. Not that I don't like Anne, but I just don't see her as Jane. The movie wasn't half bad. It portrayed my heroine much like I would. I've always been able to relate to Jane Austen. There's something so enticing about being able to write in your own happy endings when you feel so far from them yourself.

I have a strong sense that even if I could write my own ending, I'd mess it up. There's no way I could get it quite as good as what God has in mind. Normally I'm so opposed to flipping to the end of a book just to see how it ends. I mean if you read the end first, what's the point of experiencing the rest of it? But right now, I feel differently. Right now I'd just like to read the last page and see how it ends up. Maybe then I could calm down and relax. I could stop worrying about everything I can't control.

I mean of course it would be easier to trust someone if you knew they were going to come through for you, but I guess it wouldn't really be trust then would it?

So I guess I'll just keep reading.

I don't think this entry makes sense to anyone but me. I think I'll post it anyways. I'm glad we had this conversation.

Skulls

To answer everyone's question...

"Bridget! How's school going???"

I sawed through a corpse's skull with a hacksaw last week.

Anymore questions?

Didn't think so.

TWO WEEKS LEFT!

Holy Cats

Hello. Yes, I'm still alive...barely. I started MWU's Physician Assistant graduate program 3 weeks ago, hence no blog entries in a month.



I am in over my head.



I could just whine about it, but instead I'll show you an example of one of my school days, and you can imagine me whining about it.



6:00am Alarm goes off.

6:50am Get in truck

7:00am Run into construction

7:15am Run into some more construction

7:25am Stop and wait for reaaaallly long train to pass

7:40am Sit in traffic that does not move for no reason at all

8:05am Arrive at Midwestern University

8:10am Sit through a 2 hour Biopsychosocial Issues lecture

10:10am Sit through a 2 hours Clinical Medicine lecture

12:00pm Lunch (aka reviewing anatomy notes)

1:10pm Anatomy Lecture

2:10pm Anatomy Lab with cadavers (3 hrs)

5:00pm Library study time for two hours to avoid rush hour traffic

7:00pm Head home

8:00pm Arrive at home, tired, crabby and hungry.

9:00pm Start studying

12:00am Go to bed



So this is a typical day. The classes vary between those mentioned above and then two different biochems and a professional seminar. Sometimes I get to go home earlier than that, sometimes I get to arrive a little later. Regardless, I'm pretty sure they're trying to kill me. However, I have made it through 3 weeks already, and that means there's only 8 more to go until I get one week off. After that week off I get to start a whole new set of classes, with the added bonus of having eight classes instead of the six I can barely handle now.

So to answer all of your questions along the lines of, "How's grad school going?!"...



"Please send chocolate and pray for me."



I miss you all. I miss my life. When I get time to write a new blog entry (probably in 2 years) I'll try to make it more uplifting.



Also, I still have not seen or heard one ice cream truck. It is now almost July. Is anyone else concerned?