The Undergrad Limbo

Never really understood what it felt like to be done my undergrad until now, even though I graduated a while back. The reason being, I've either been working at dead-end jobs or taking courses that I've hated (*cough chemistry cough*) just to make the cut off for a life I've always wanted. I finally came to the realization of, "I quit!" If you told me this years back, you know taking a break after school, I would have looked at you and walked away. Plain and simple. You were crazy to me, and therefore not worth my time. Kidding. I wasn't a bitch then nor ever will be, but I was very determined to be somewhere after undergrad. Unfortunately, life for me became lame. I am not going through the details of it because till this day I am still very upset, but much much better than the years before.

Now, that I am on psuedo break because I do not believe in leisure time - I am a workaholic, I admit it,I am waiting for my turn.

When I say, my turn, I mean to say, when will it be my white coat ceremony? Sick of being left behind and feeling like, lack of a better term, shit! I know of people who are off doing them, but to tell you the truth, and I sound really really mean, but it's the honest truth, they have no business of being there. It's not because they are doing something that I've only dreamed of since my first science fair, but because their attitude towards it stinks, their lack of empathy lacks, and most importantly, they are very bookish smart, but don't understand what it's like to be well, human. And believe this, they want families. I get it, happy balanced lifestyles = good human being. But, medicine is about the task at hand and focusing on the problem. You live for other people. If that doesn't run well by you, then quite frankly, why did you choose this path? Argh, I wish I could go on about this, but I will just come off as being a jealous and crossed prick, so I'd rather not. I just want it to be my turn. And when it is, I am going to rock it like Joan Jet minus the girl-on-girl action.

Until I hear back from a nice registrar with some good news for me, I am going to a) sulk a bit b) invest in a frothier c) not conform to fb (primarily because I think my guy-friend who I asked out and turned me down is now interested in our mutual friend and is all vouching the mating game publicly) d) I need social isolation - I think friends confuse you even more when you're fragile and e) don't give a fuck about anything or anyone anymore.

Yeah yeah. I am bitter. But, you know what, life has been cruel yet oh so nice. I wouldn't change a damn thing if I could because I am who I am because of my roots. Cheesy = yes, but I am a 100% real baby. I am just one of those people who say it as it is, and do not preach what they do not practice.

Ah, I feel better now that I've ranted. *Smirk*

EYo to the new blogger

It is finally nice to get my thoughts down on some form of medium. I used to keep a notebook around (old school, eh?), but then realized that a)I don't have the time, which I secretly do and b)lame - what twenty-something person writes in a diary anymore or ever? I started to think (scary idea) and came to the conclusion that I am almost lost when I don't jot something down somewhere. I was never really a strong believer of "blogging," but now almost feel humbled by the entire process of it. So, I am opening myself up to this world of electronic communication hence why I now consider myself as the mentat.

And I begin.

My high school teacher once told me way back in the twelfth grade that the best form of writing (typing) is the kind that makes no absolute sense; it's the rambling or the scraps of ideas that count! Now, this was and still is so not in tune with my logic. I sort of presumed that my creative writing teacher was well, a little too "creative" for my own liking and kind of had himself a medley of drugs in the late 60's which I happened to be blessed enough to live through the aftermath of his experimentation. But, I do thank him for introducing me to Jimmy Hendrix and all the other drugged up guitar heroes of that time. I digress. Anyways, I am probably set in my ways due to my personality disorder, cluster C complex. So, to me, the best way of writing is by experiencing the world as it is and then doing your best at describing that memory whether it is really dramatic, stupid or awkward in a timely manner - doesn't matter as long as it's told. Ha, interesting, I've just justified why I chose to waste my valuable sleep/work time on this thing.