Postpourri

I feel that I should write something. But I don't have coherent thoughts at the moment, and I'm not clear on when they'll come back. So I'll just be random.

I did reasonably well on my physiology and histology exams (despite a few ridiculous questions on the latter.) Praise the Lord for that, because I had some pretty debilitating anxiety for a week and a half before the exam (enough time in which to get waaaaaay behind) but I prayed for motivation and a calm spirit, and was able to study pretty well for the three days before the exam, so I'm thankful for my grade(s).

I have a 365 Stupidest Things Ever Said daily calendar, and Sunday's quote amused me - by Roger Ebert, announcing the arrival of Mel Blanc and Jimmy Smits to the Academy Awards ceremony: "Oh, here comes Mel Blanc, the voice of Bugs Bunny and Jimmy Smits!"

Heh.

I think I've forgotten how to talk to people.

I miss Scott.

Speaking of Scott, we've seen a few movies. We accidentally saw Eight Below (due to a time malfunction on my part) and it turned out to actually be good. I cried about four times - once when they left the dogs, every time a dog died, and then when Scott shushed me for talking too loud. :-) We also saw Failure to Launch, which made me feel better about being ridiculously attached to my family and home. Unfortunately, Sarah Jessica Parker was there and she looks like a horse. But Matthew McConaughey was also there, and he more than cancelled out her horseishness. Oh, another thing - while filming a movie about the 1970 plane crash that killed almost the entire Marshall University football team, Matthew McConaughey is rumored to be staying in a house that is about five blocks from my apartment. Eeeeeeee. But I won't be stalking him - I just don't have that kind of time.

Sometimes medical school feels like the hardest kindergarten ever. Except with people who brag about how drunk they got. And I still don't get that bragging. Remember? I've never been able to make sense of it.

Huh. As it turns out, I wrote a lot in April 2005. If you're bored, you can go read some of it. It's Pauler Abdul! It's centipedes! It's E. coli! It's making molasses in someone's bottom!

One last thing - I uploaded the episode of South Park that spoofed scientology, R. Kelly, John Travolta, and Tom Cruise - and that caused Tom Cruise to flip out more than he normally does. It's in downloads, or you can right-click and "save target as" here.

All right. I'm off to learn stuff.

I. Am. So. Burnt. Out.

So, while taking a break from endless studying (we have our first block of exams on Monday - meaning we have a physiology exam and then when we hand that in, we get a histology exam. Should be good times) I was perusing my blogroll, and I found something on Ory's blog that I just love. It's a comment that a friend of hers gave her after she posted a "School sucks! Waaaah!" post. (Not that there's anything wrong with that, I could write one on most days.) Anyway, here's the comment:

Med school sucks sometimes. Often. It's like standing in front of a fire hydrant gushing into your mouth and trying to swallow.

So true, so true. I'm just trying to remember that I'm going to be a doctor, not a medical student. Nobody wants to be a medical student when they grow up. Or if they do, they are clinically insane. Or possibly, they just don't have a clue what medical school is like. I didn't.

And also, Ory gets to wear butterfly wings, y'all. That's not fair. I never get to wear butterfly wings. Just stress and/or bitter, bitter failure.

On an encouraging note, my buddy Ryan has my entire blog memorized. That makes his brain handy for me, in case I inadvertently delete the whole thing someday. Hey Ryan, go ahead and start memorizing my template code and my CSS sheet, 'kay? That'd be real nice of you. (It's not really his fault - it's just as a medical student, you get trained to memorize everything you read.)

Back to cardiovascular physiology. *sigh*

I'm not dead. Don't give up on me. It's just that I have two tests on Monday, and I've been several kinds of crazy for the past week - all anxious and prone to crying fits and such. They should put Kleenex coupons in our little welcome packets they gave us at orientation, seriously. And anxiety medication.

I have stuff to say, just not enough time to say it at the moment. But on Monday evening, I have nothing to do except write a thesis statement for certain toothy ethics professors. And THEN, my faithful readers (all three of y'all) I will blog. I WILL BLOG.

In the meantime, I've added a whole bunch of mp3s to my mp3 folder - so you could amuse yourselves with those. Just be sure to right-click on the ones you want and "save as" instead of streaming from my server - I'm too busy studying and I don't have the time to hunt you down and stomp on your foot really hard if you waste my bandwidth.

On trashy Bens

I don't actually know any trashy Bens, but I do have a picture of one of my favorite misspellings ever:

About six years ago, I was driving home from class and I fell asleep and totaled my car (but my only injuries were airbag burns - I think the Lord took over the steering while I snoozed.) So when I went back to the scene of the nap to take pictures of the guardrail that I split wide open, I noticed that receptable labeled "Trash Ben" nearby, and had to have a picture.

And I've been meaning to post that ever since I started blogging in August 2004. Whew. Now I feel as if I've accomplished something.

Disclaimer: I don't mean to further the stereotype that West Virginians are idiots who can't spell. I mean, some of us can't spell, obviously. But at least one of us (and more, I'm sure) is capable of recognizing such a misspelling. I thought about bringing some spray paint to edit the - uh, "ben" - but never got around to it. I should really work on my procrastinating problem. Later.

That's one heckuva big elephant

Before I tell you about that time that I didn't get stuck in the mud, I'll share evidence that someone does something that is more stupid than the things I do:

I would have loved to hear her reason it out. Heh.

HT: Stuck in the Synapse

I'll shut up about American Idol in a minute, I promise

Okay, I've been uploading mpeg performance clips, which are here (please right-click and "save as" when you get to the download page, as usual) and I'll boringly list the American Idol downloads folder contents below to aid the Googlers:

From February 28 (and March 7):

• Ayla Brown - I Want You to Need Me by Celine Dion; and Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield
• Brenna Gethers - Last Dance by Donna Summer
• Heather Cox - Hero by Mariah Carey
• Katharine McPhee - All In Love Is Fair by Stevie Wonder; and Think by Aretha Franklin
• Kellie Pickler - Something To Talk About by Bonnie Raitt; and I'm the Only One by Melissa Etheridge
• Kinnik Sky - Here for the Party by Gretchen Wilson; and If I Ain't Got You by Alicia Keys
• Lisa Tucker - Who's Loving You by someone I don't know; and Here's Where I Stand by someone else I don't know
• Mandisa - Cry by Faith Hill; and I'm Every Woman by Chaka Khan, Whitney Houston
• Melissa McGhee - Why Haven't I Heard From You by Reba McEntire; and What About Love by Heart
• Paris Bennett - Wind Beneath My Wings by Bette Midler; and Conga by Gloria Estefan

And from March 1 (and March 8):

• Ace Young - If You're Not the One by Daniel Bedingfield (who is crying because American Idol insists on getting his song title wrong during the show, during the elimination show, AND on the website); and Butterflies by Michael Jackson
• Bucky Covington - The Thunder Rolls by Garth Brooks; and Wave On Wave by Pat Green (which is actually one of my favorite songs - see yonder sidebar for confirmation)
• Chris Daughtry - Hemorrhage (In My Hands) by Fuel; and Broken by Seether and Amy Lee (for about six weeks after this song came out, I wondered why Amy Lee wanted to steal my pen away. I'm not very good at deciphering lyrics. Although I do have great pens.)
• David Radford - The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra
• Elliott Yamin - Moody's Mood For Love by James Moody, who is not good at writing song titles; and Heaven by Bryan Adams
• Gedeon McKinney - A Change is Gonna Come by Otis Redding; and When A Man Loves A Woman by Percy Sledge
• Kevin Covais - I Heard It Through the Grapevine by Marvin Gaye; and Vincent (oh heck, VINCENT!!! Why would anyone willingly sing Vincent? If I recall correctly, it's "not a song, but a vague collection of loosely rhyming words set to amelodious music") by Don McLean. But at least they didn't ask him to sing it backwards, in German, whilst peddling a unicycle and balancing a fire baton on his nose. If that makes no sense to you, don't worry.
• Sway Penala - Overjoyed by Stevie Wonder
• Taylor Hicks - Easy by the Commodores; and Taking It To the Streets by Michael McDonald
• Will Makar - Lady by Kenny Rogers; and How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved by You) by James Taylor

Now that I've helped direct the Googlers looking for American Idol mpegs, a comment or two.

Who taught Taylor Hicks how to dance? Frankenstein? My goodness, dude is seriously exhibiting wild flailing - I think he has hemiballism.

I particularly enjoyed that during Kevin's post-critique, stand-there-and-wiggle-numbers-on-fingers period, Ryan was having a conversation with the judges and then when he turned to say something to Kevin, he was completely in Kevin's face. Kevin jumped back a little and looked more horrified than usual. Heh. By the way, what is he still doing there? I think the hair cells in my ears must be bending in the wrong direction, because Pauler and Randy fawn all over him, yet I'm not hearing the talent.

Speaking of no talent - ACE. Man. Please, please put down the falsetto and back away slo-o-wly. It made my cats' ears rotate a full 180 degrees. Ugh.

I don't have anything to say about the girls except that if Mandisa can wear sleeveless, I can wear sleeveless. Also, she rocks. And also, Katharine is starting to get on my nerves but I can't figure out why. Oh, and Brenna Gethers is 10 times worse than Kimberly Caldwell ever was, with the "Look at me! I'm on television!" bit. Eeesh. I'm glad she's gone.

I think I'm done with American Idol for the week. On an unrelated note, I find myself wishing that I was little and cute. I find myself wishing that a lot. Not that I really care if everyone loves me, but people are much more eager to talk to you when you are little and cute, and I think that probably makes little and cute people feel good about themselves. That is all.

And in my next post, I'll tell you about that time I didn't get stuck in the mud.

Bikes that are not pipe bombs

I heard this on our local news yesterday, and thought it was too amusing to keep to myself. I'm always on the lookout for people who do more stupid things than I do (i.e., getting locked between two doors, or more recently, ripping off half of my face.) And I have a new one (well, actually, it goes between the ripping and the getting trapped - so I'll just call it "untold" instead of "new".) I'll air my stupidity for the world to see later.

For now - let's say you're 28-year-old Ohio University graduate student Patrick K. Hanlin, and you love a certain punk band with the moniker This Bike Is a Pipe Bomb. You want to be a supportive little punk fan and you get yourself a punk bumper sticker. "Where to place this punk sticker?" you pontificate, until suddenly it hits you - "I know! On my punk BICYCLE! Because everyone knows this obscure band (they've been around since the 90s, after all) and would NEVER evacuate buildings on a college campus just because my stickered bike is parked nearby."

Duh.

Technorati tags: news, This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb, idiocy, Ohio University

While perusing I Don't Like You In That Way

I admit it. I like celebrity gossip. I shouldn't - it eats away at my time, it's pointless, people like me help to fuel the ever-expanding Hollywood ego, and so on and so forth. Although I don't care when celebrity couples break up. Figure that one.

So I don't have much time lately to keep up with quality journalism such as Star and the National Enquirer, but I do skim a few blogs when time permits - like I Don't Like You In That Way and The Superficial (Because You're Ugly).

Today I found a couple of things on I Don't Like You In That Way that I felt like rambling about for a few lines. Because that's what I do. First - Tom Cruise is still crazy. I heard some time ago about his insistence that Katie Holmes deliver whatever it is she's carrying (I'm not convinced that it isn't demon spawn, or perhaps The Evil Emperor Zurg. OR, the antichrist) medication-free and scream-free. That alone makes him a raving loon. But today, I read the newest batch of crazy:

In Scientology, mother and child are separated for days after birth to reduce trauma and provide time to recover, says a source. The mother is discouraged from holding or cuddling the child. "The baby should not be bathed or chilled but should be wrapped somewhat tightly in a warm blanket, very soft, and then left alone for a day or so," Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard wrote in a Dec. 20, 1958, bulletin titled "Processing a New Mother."

Left alone for a day or so???? What planet are these people from? Does "the baby should not be bathed or chilled but should be wrapped somewhat tightly in a warm blanket, very soft, and then left alone for a day or so" make any kind of sense to anyone? "Processing of a New Mother" - sounds like "Processing of a Child Endangerment Case" to me. Geez-o-pete.

Moving right along from scary scientologists to scary pictures. Innocently scrolling through I Don't Like You In That Way, I ran face-first into this, with no warning or anything:

Apparently there's several "sources" coming forward that have been solicited online by Clay Aiken on various occasions. So I think that's a little creepy. I also think that the "sources" are more than a little skeevy for running to the National Enquirer with this story, whether it's true or not. I actually think the fourth picture, the one that's inducing your eyeball hemorrhage at this very moment, more resembles Simon Cowell. Regardless (no "ir"), I like the quote that Clay Aiken's publicist gave to Star a few weeks ago, when these rumors started to surface:

Although Aiken has denied being gay in the past, his rep is keeping quiet, but humorous, on the current flap, telling Star: "Clay's on a flying saucer with his alien parents, busy kidnapping monkeys. We cannot comment till he gets home from Pluto."

Hee.

So I start classes again on Monday and I'm not going to be able to finish The Misadventures of an Unfortunately Stripped Clay Aiken (Ack, and Also "The Horror!!"), so would someone please let me know how it ends? I hope it doesn't end with someone being shirtless, but either way, drop me a note. Thanks. Also let me know if Katie Holmes #1) kills crazy Tom during labor and administers her own epidural, or #2) gives birth to something that comes out speaking Martian.

One more thing - these fans of his that are charging that he was marketed as a different person than what he is/was? Sheesh, what a bunch of idiots. It seems they've just arrived from a distant planet and think that celebrities are actually the people that they want the public to think that they are. Don't they know that Clay Aiken comes from American Idol, which is designed to produce a manufactured recording artist, and not a real boy? [/Pinocchio] Good grief.

Update (3/4/06, 7:30 A.M.) - Oh, so it's an elaborate character assassination ploy, orchestrated by drag queen and Clay Aiken impersonator Coti Collins, along with John Paulus. No really, I read that on the Internet, so it has to be true. I am having a hard time seeing the resemblence, between he/she and Clay, though:

So there you go.

Technorati tags: celebrities, Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes, scientology, Clay Aiken

American Idol, Top 10 Guys (or, I'll Have Something More Interesting to Write Soon, It's Just That American Idol is On For Sixteen Hours Per Week)

Dear Chris Daughtry,

Guhhhhhhhhhhh. You went and sang a great song by Fuel, full of great greatness. Pair that with last week's Wanted Dead Or Alive, and I think I love you. However, when looking up in that little Peanut Gallery, I kept going, "Why is Bruce Willis trying to be the next American Idol? Hasn't he anything better to do, like looking menacing or being mad at Oprah?" So it would be good if you'd stop looking like Bruce Willis from a distance, because it's not nice to confuse someone who is easily confused.

Dear Bucky Covington,

Bo Bice you are not. I have tired of looking at you and your half-shaven head. Also, I can't understand half of what you say, and I speak fluent Redneck. So shoo, fly.

Dear Taylor Hicks,

Maribeth says that you ooze soul and that's what makes you twitch. I'm not convinced that it's not a cerebellar lesion. But I still like you.

Dear 70% that remain,

Stop crooning at me.

Love, Kim

Technorati tags: American Idol, Chris Daughtry, Bucky Covington, Taylor Hicks

More American Idol stuff - or, I Have No Life

I decided that I'm too lazy to make any observations about the top 10 girls' performances. I'm going to let Lacy Hall do it for me instead. I thought the show was boring, with bad song choices and unfortunate hair and wardrobe. Scott and I were watching the ridiculously cute Paris Bennett (although I have to wonder if she has a damaged recurrent laryngeal nerve with that raspy speaking voice of hers) and I said, "I'm not a big fan of that outfit." He said, "Is she trying to be a vampire?" I don't think vampires wear heart-shaped earrings, though.

But anyway, I have no more words. Maybe the guys will be more inspiring tonight - and I predict that Pauler will think they are all completely fabulous. By the way, Simon? Elliott Yamin as the best male vocalist Idol has ever had? Uh, no. Or maybe Simon was just trying to irritate the Clackhouse loons, inspiring 832 pages of posts about Clay Aiken being the best vocalist who has ever existed and will ever exist.

Technorati tags: American Idol, Paris Bennett, Elliott Yamin, Clay Aiken