Friday catblog

This actually happened about a month ago, but it takes me awhile to write about stuff (by the way, did I tell y'all that I met this guy named Scott in my Biology 120 class, and he's so cuteandsmartandwittyandChristian and I luuuuuuurve him.) See what I'm saying? I'm slow on the reporting. Anyway, I was waiting for a Friday to follow the Friday catblogging trend (started by Calpundit and his kitty Inkblot.)

I was about 45% asleep one night (this was actually before the semester ended, so I probably had visions of ventilation/perfusion ratios dancing in my head) when Sophie came running in my bedroom and jumped up on the bed. Okay, that's normal. She ran right to my other pillow, which is also normal. I reached out to pet her, and then left my hand near her - and THEN, my hand started to feel wet. Ack - she's spitting on me! I thought. (That will wake you up fast!) I turned on the lamp and, lo and behold, she's foaming at the mouth. I freaked out, because it was around the June 1st anniversary of my Cinders being killed by the random dog last summer and I was thinking, "I can't lose another cat. Four in one year was enough!"

Sophie, post-froth

So I ran her in to Mom, and then we found Oliver in the laundry room, ALSO foaming. What the heck? And then, we saw the heck. The heck was in the form of a wee little frog that somehow had gotten into the laundry room, and had apparently been sampled by both cats. I was going to be really irate if this tiny frog had poisoned both of my cats, so I called the Animal ER, and was told that frogs have this really bitter taste that make the cats frothy, but that there aren't any poisonous ones in this area.

Ollie, post-froth (the human is my dad)

Whew. So remember chirrun - don't let your cats lick frogs. The results just aren't good for anyone.

Superman Returned, and I was there

Scott and I and some friends went to see the 10PM showing (the first showing) of Superman Returns on Tuesday. First of all, the people in the theater with us were so excited to be there, I thought they may all explode. Or implode. I don't know - 'plode in some direction. Clad in their Superman T-shirts, they applauded at everything. During the credits - yay! Superman Returns! (Okay, that one made sense.) But then, "Yay! Kevin Spacey!" (Well, that makes some sense too.) And, "Yay! Casting director!" (Huh?) Randomly during the movie, "Yay!" And of course, at the end, "Yaaaaaaaaaaay!" I guess you could say that the general impression of the audience was positive.

Except for Scott, who went, "Meh," about the whole thing. He was annoyed with the ending - to avoid spoilers, I'll just say that he doesn't think that superheroes are supposed to do that, to have those. That part didn't bother me, but I'm not much of a superhero purist either.

Kevin Spacey says that he modeled his portrayal of Lex Luthor after Enron's Ken Lay. Pfffft. (Oops, I told Nichelle that it was Dick Cheney, not Ken Lay. Sorry Nichelle. I mixed up my eeeeeevil bald guys.) But I actually didn't find him quite menacing enough - sure, he wanted to take over the world and kill billions of people, whatever. But it was like, "I'm going to take over the world, maybe - after So You Think You Can Dance goes off" instead of, "I'M GOING TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!"

Cool back-from-the-dead appearance by Marlon Brando as Jor-El. Brandon Routh was good as Superman/Clark Kent (and also not bad to watch for three hours!) but I thought that Kate Bosworth kind of fell flat as Lois Lane.

So. Not the best Marvel movie I've seen (that would go to either Spiderman or Spiderman 2, or X-Men 2) but nowhere near the worst (eeeegh, Daredevil.)

Music makes the people come together ...

Okay guys, something new. Well, something that I stole (with permission) from the kind folk over at Hey Freak. It's the Random 10 - I put iTunes on shuffle, and post a snippet of the first 10 lyrics that come up. And then y'all get to guess what songs they are. No Googling! I'll post the answers in a day or two.

1. And she was looking at herself, and things were looking like a movie. She had a pleasant elevation. She's moving out in all directions.
2. I can't be held responsible. She was touching her face. I won't be held responsible, she fell in love in the first place.
3. You grew up way too fast, and now there's nothing to believe. And reruns all become our history.
4. Jennifer's got her daddy's car, she's playing Uptown on the stereo. We go cruisin' so close, the way they did long ago.
5. Who's to blame for the lives that tragedies claim? No matter what you say, it don't take away the pain that I feel inside. I'm tired of all the lies.
6. I guess I should've closed my eyes when you drove me to the place where your horses run free.
7. I think of you every night and day. You took my heart, then you took my pride away.
8. Let me tell you now, I never had it so good. Yeah, and I know you never could, until you get hip with that jive, and take a band like the Church Street Five.
9. I don't wanna be the bad guy. I don't wanna do your sleepwalk dance anymore.
10. Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom!

And ... go!

Let's see if trackbacking to Basil drums up some more guessers. Yay, guessers!

I cannot imagine doing this.

Now that I have time to actually read magazines - I read in my August issue of Fitness that some dentists are offering prosthetic teeth to match those of celebrities (i.e., Tom Cruise, Sarah Jessica Parker, Gwyneth Paltrow, Halle Berry, Britney Spears.) Shelling out $2,500 to $3,600 just so I can have fake famous teeth to snap over my perfectly good teeth seems totally bizarre. I'm sure Scott would fall in love all over again if we went out to dinner and I removed my teeth and let them sit in a glass of water for the duration of the meal. Ack.

I wonder if wearing Halle Berry's teeth would make one say incomprehensible things like this (from last week's People):

People: What's your take on 2004's massive box-office flop Catwoman?
HB: I thought it was a chance for a female heroine to helm her own movie and franchise - what great things that would do for women. [Okay, that part makes sense. Just hang on.] But it missed. You just put on your big-girl panties and deal with it.

Er - what's that mean? I guess if you're really, really, ridiculously good-looking, you can say weird things about big-girl panties and people don't really care what you're talking about.

Isn't/aren't she/we lovely ...

I went to a wedding over Memorial Day weekend (laden with dentists, incidentally) and I thought I'd share some of the pictures that I took. Because I thought some of y'all may care. Please don't stalk my friends, though - thanks.

     
My Scott; & Rebecca, the bride (obviously)

     
Jeremy (the groom) and his twin brother Josh; & their respective girls - Jamie & Becca

     
The happy couple(s) - Jeremy & Becca and Scott & me

And a group of my good friends and me - Amber, Caleb, Becca, Jeremy, Jamie, Josh, and Scott. And me.

While I'm on the subject of photography - I've always thought that I'd give up my film SLR when they pry it from my cold, dead fingers. Even a convincing pitch at the wedding (the "real" photographer was very friendly and she and her assistant (husband, I think) were chatting me up and trying to convince me to go digital) didn't sway my opinion. Do you know why? One reason, I don't have a thousand dollars to spend on a good digital SLR. The other reason is that I like negatives - I know that in 100 years, there will still be prints made from negatives. I can't say that for .jpgs or .pngs or .gifs or whatever. It is nice to be able to see pictures as soon as they're taken, though - I'm in that "instant gratification" generation, remember.

One really convincing plug for digital photography showed up in The Week newsmagazine for the week of June 16, 2006 (love that magazine - LOVE.) It's a blurb for the HP Photosmart R927, which "compresses pixels at the frame's center and expanding them around the edges ... mak[ing] anyone seem skinnier." SWEET. Daily Gadget has sample pictures taken with this slimming camera.

So I'll have a free evening.

Scott's church is having Bible School this week, and they have an adult class that is taught by this very bright man (a guest evangelist) - he's teaching on the events of The Great Tribulation and end times stuff, which is very interesting (albeit scary - not for myself personally, but because I have family and friends who haven't accepted Christ and I don't want them to go through that time period.) I've gone every evening except one, but last night, something was said that offended me (and I'm not one to be easily offended.)

I don't even remember what our teacher was talking about at the time, but he said, "Anybody who would go to a 'shrink' needs their head examined." That hurt immediately because of my long battle with anxiety, which I can't seem to stop talking about lately (sorry.) And after I got home last night, the more I thought about what was said about psychiatry/psychology, the more upset I got. I'm not going to be one of those people who gets offended by something and never goes back again - but it's just kind of a fresh wound for me. Besides, it's not that he said something Biblical that "stepped on my toes", as they say - he must just be one of those people who thinks there's no such thing as mental illness, or that someone with psychological problems can just talk themselves out of it. How I wish that were so! I think that God works through psychiatrists and psychologists just as He works through other health professionals.

It's just a stigma that really gets under my skin - I'll bet he wouldn't say, "Anybody who goes to a cardiologist/gastroenterologist/neurologist/oncologist" needs their head examined." The mind is part of the body, too. I guess it upset me so much because I've suffered so much, for so long, with my anxiety and depression (and dealt with more than a few people who don't understand that suffering and think that it's somehow my fault or that it's not even real) and to hear someone make light of it like that and then have others in the congregation laugh - I don't know. It just really hurt me. I don't think I'll go back tonight, because my wound is still fresh - but I do love that church, though. They are as devout and faithful as they come.

I thought Paris Hilton was a no-trick pony?

So this was on AOL's main screen yesterday:

First of all, I didn't know Paris Hilton had a "trick" in the first place. I thought she was just famous and everywhere because she's an heiress - not because she's smart or talented or any such thing. All she did was be born, which completely doesn't impress me.

Second of all, a steamy video? They talk about it like it's something new - I thought she already had one of those. Oh well, I have ignored the entire world (except for American Idol) for a whole year.

Speaking of American Idol - Taylor Hicks tops People's Hottest Bachelors list, OVER Matthew McConaughey? What the ... ?

By the way, in case you're wondering - my big teary manifesto wasn't due to the fact that I didn't pass physiology. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.) Remember when I said that I hoped I passed physiology? I just wanted to let you know that I did - by the skin of my teeth and with help from the Lord, obviously.

My pancreas, unfortunately, isn't aware that I'm finished with school for a few weeks. The pain, THE PAIN! Controllable with meds, but I hate having to take them.

And, I feel like I know absolutely nothing, despite a year of intense instruction. Anybody else feel that way after their first year?

The one where I just feel like talking - watch out for seriousness and some crying

A couple of months ago, some friends and I were working on a small group assignment in some free time that we had between lab and our next class. Somehow, we got onto the topic of tanning (which I do and make no apologies for it) and Nichelle was telling us about a friend of hers that was a former sun-worshipper, who had stopped tanning due to malignant melanoma. I said that I really wasn't worried about such things - if something like that were to happen to me, I don't particularly care - I'm ready to go, but my only concern is the care of my parents when they get older. My friends were fairly horrified by this statement, and for some reason, I was just thinking about it, so I'll explain myself a bit - bare my heart and soul for all to see. Why not? It's my blog, who else's heart and soul should be on it?

As I've mentioned here before, I've had anxiety and panic attacks for almost as long as I can remember - well, I remember one clearly when I was five, so I don't know if there were fuzzy attacks prior to that. Anyway, they got much worse (and much more socially unacceptable, as well as much more embarrassing) when I was in high school, which is the point that my pediatrician started prescribing medication to try to stave them off. (My hereditary pancreatitis was diagnosed in 5th grade - I carry a screwed up gene for PTI (the protein that keeps trypsin inactive until it leaves the pancreas.) The evil pancreas will be mentioned again in a minute.)

I should definitely say that I am one blessed character - the Lord has given me so, so, so many abilities and attributes and opportunites and needs and wants and people that love me - and that my anxiety and my pancreatitis are my two thorns. My only two problems, the only things that steal my sleep (please note the time on this post.)

With that said, when you wake up every single morning with your heart racing, your whole body shaking and your stomach churning; when being with other people is often unbearable yet, when you're alone you can do nothing but cry sometimes; when things that normal people look forward to and are excited about (i.e., marriage, kids, new careers) paralyze you with fear at the mere thought of them; when the idea of moving away from home makes you physically ill - well, it's just all very tiring. And to have lived with those things intensely for 11 documented years, all the while being told that it will get better as I get older - well, I'm 27 and I've just finished my first year of medical school, during which my anxiety and my pancreatitis stole my superficial peace, my study time, my grades, my knowledge, my confidence, and many hours of sleep. That part makes me a little angry.

Some will say that I'm just feeling sorry for myself. But this is all very real to me. And it does make my future - 50 or 60 more years or whatever God gives me - seem terribly long and tiring, particularly if my anxiety robs me of a marriage and a family and I spend my last years alone.

Again, several have said that anxiety and panic disorders dimish with age and experience. Dear Lord, please make it so. I'm in the process of fulfilling my dream - the occupation for which You have given me talents and great interest - but I am so afraid that my anxiety, my panic, and/or the horrible pain from my pancreatitis, are going to ultimately take that dream from me. You have given me a perfect guy, with so, so many wonderful qualities - almost as if he were made to order - and yet, the slightest thought of marriage sends me into a semi-vegetative panic, because I'm afraid that his degree will force him to move away from here for work. And I can't go - I just can't go. But - what on earth would I do without him? He has been my one and only love for almost nine years, and he has seen me at my very worst and loves me just as I am, for some odd reason. I would never find another Scott. And even more upsetting - I worry that my anxiety will ruin his life as well, and I love him too much to let that happen.

I may come back and delete this post later - I just thought that getting some of this out may help me sleep tonight.

If I didn't take so many breaks from studying to worry about not getting enough done, I would get more done.

Punchberry and I are the same person. That is all. Well, except she's prettier and funnier than I am, and not nearly the giganto fat slob that I am. But it appears that we do have the same study-break-worry-study-worry-worry-break-study-worry-break-worry pattern.

I hate school.

I really hope I pass physiology.

Things that don't look so good on the surface

On second thought, nevermind about that.