Well, it has been awhile hasn't it? I guess this whole grad school thing is really quite busy in the end. Wild. I'm sure I had a lot to report if I had described the conglomeration of emotions I began this journey with, but three weeks in it feels as if I have grown accustomed to the road and besides the small pebbles beneath my feet there is little to upset or amaze me anymore. Suffice it to say it has been delightfully overwhelming. The most exciting, intense, and natural thing I have ever embarked upon. I am so grateful for the opportunity and still cheerfully confused as to how I ended up in this frozen corner of the country studying physical therapy of all things. In the few times I take to actually think about where I am I get all giggly and puzzled. What a tangled thing life ends up to be.
I opened the pickle jar myself this week. This may seem little more than slight elbow flexion and internal rotation and abduction of the shoulder joint (haha I crack myself up) but really this was a symbolic victory of sorts. High on the list of reasons single women need a man is to open jars. I ask myself, what does this mean? Have the women of the country become so independent that we have revolutionized the manufacturing of pickle jars everywhere in order to accommodate the growing single woman population? Perhaps I was naturally drawn to the jar that was easier to open through a complicated mixture of Pavlov, genetic selection, and feminine intuition. (Really, it was the cheapest jar, but maybe this plays into the psyche of singledom as well?) Maybe the ability to open it means that I have accepted my current single status with grace. Or would it be strength and dexterity? I certainly wasn't graceful in my attempt. Come to mention it, it certainly wasn't an especially impressive display of strength either. I said I opened it, I didn't say it was easy or pretty. Anyway. Eating pickles has never been so complicated.
As for other interesting developments... there isn't too much to be honest. Life is good. Simple, predictable, and all around blissful. Except today in the cadaver lab I totally swallowed dead people juice when the cadaver leg was suddenly dropped in my general direction. Gross gross gross!!! The general response was far from encouraging. First everyone laughed then they all asked how it tasted. If people really wanted to know, they should drink it themselves then I can laugh at them! Oh well. For the record, it was not delicious, salty, or anything I want to focus on too much.
The Colts are winning agin. Leading the AFC, infact. 5 and 0. What can I say, I sure can pick em, huh? and to squash any rumors I was a huge Colts fan almost since I started watching football over 10 years ago. A colt is a delight to any thirteen year old girl plus I liked their colors. Now they are still my team and I honestly count their first superbowl win as partially payoff for years of fruitless cheering combined with the sacrifice of missionary service. Excuse me while doge the lightning bolt. I am an acknowledged Peyton lover, but this year Austin Collie, a BYU graduate, is a rookie on the team who actually caught a touchdown a few weeks ago. So see, I am a real live fan. And they are winning. And I like that.
Speaking of sports, it ends up the rest of the world are Texas sport haters. Who knew? If you ask me, I am a slight female (although I can open pickle jars... hmm...) who is far away from home all on her little lonesome so people should be nice to me and my state. But they aren't! I can understand Cowboy bashing--everyone does that, especially with stinking Tony Romo in the lead. But Longhorn bashing? Stars? Rangers? Even the Mavericks! I defy you to find another man in professional sports who is more down to earth than Dirk Nawitzki except for, of course, Peyton Manning. Grr. I know it's just jealousy and severe inferiority complexity, but still. I wish people would back off if they don't have the backbone to recognize real true talent. Hmph.
Anyway. To quote one of my favorite movies, "life is a quick succession of busy nothings." I had better go to bed. Or maybe I will eat a pickle... its flavor strangely reminded me of the cadaver juice... maybe they were a little similar? Oh on...
I opened the pickle jar myself this week. This may seem little more than slight elbow flexion and internal rotation and abduction of the shoulder joint (haha I crack myself up) but really this was a symbolic victory of sorts. High on the list of reasons single women need a man is to open jars. I ask myself, what does this mean? Have the women of the country become so independent that we have revolutionized the manufacturing of pickle jars everywhere in order to accommodate the growing single woman population? Perhaps I was naturally drawn to the jar that was easier to open through a complicated mixture of Pavlov, genetic selection, and feminine intuition. (Really, it was the cheapest jar, but maybe this plays into the psyche of singledom as well?) Maybe the ability to open it means that I have accepted my current single status with grace. Or would it be strength and dexterity? I certainly wasn't graceful in my attempt. Come to mention it, it certainly wasn't an especially impressive display of strength either. I said I opened it, I didn't say it was easy or pretty. Anyway. Eating pickles has never been so complicated.
As for other interesting developments... there isn't too much to be honest. Life is good. Simple, predictable, and all around blissful. Except today in the cadaver lab I totally swallowed dead people juice when the cadaver leg was suddenly dropped in my general direction. Gross gross gross!!! The general response was far from encouraging. First everyone laughed then they all asked how it tasted. If people really wanted to know, they should drink it themselves then I can laugh at them! Oh well. For the record, it was not delicious, salty, or anything I want to focus on too much.
The Colts are winning agin. Leading the AFC, infact. 5 and 0. What can I say, I sure can pick em, huh? and to squash any rumors I was a huge Colts fan almost since I started watching football over 10 years ago. A colt is a delight to any thirteen year old girl plus I liked their colors. Now they are still my team and I honestly count their first superbowl win as partially payoff for years of fruitless cheering combined with the sacrifice of missionary service. Excuse me while doge the lightning bolt. I am an acknowledged Peyton lover, but this year Austin Collie, a BYU graduate, is a rookie on the team who actually caught a touchdown a few weeks ago. So see, I am a real live fan. And they are winning. And I like that.
Speaking of sports, it ends up the rest of the world are Texas sport haters. Who knew? If you ask me, I am a slight female (although I can open pickle jars... hmm...) who is far away from home all on her little lonesome so people should be nice to me and my state. But they aren't! I can understand Cowboy bashing--everyone does that, especially with stinking Tony Romo in the lead. But Longhorn bashing? Stars? Rangers? Even the Mavericks! I defy you to find another man in professional sports who is more down to earth than Dirk Nawitzki except for, of course, Peyton Manning. Grr. I know it's just jealousy and severe inferiority complexity, but still. I wish people would back off if they don't have the backbone to recognize real true talent. Hmph.
Anyway. To quote one of my favorite movies, "life is a quick succession of busy nothings." I had better go to bed. Or maybe I will eat a pickle... its flavor strangely reminded me of the cadaver juice... maybe they were a little similar? Oh on...
No comments:
Post a Comment