02/03/2004 - 4:54 a.m. | and only hope can i, you won't deny

I can't sleep. OK, technically, I haven't tried yet, but I'm pretty sure if I did, I couldn't, so I'll just pass by the middleman and go directly to you. Lucky, right? Meanwhile, I shall continue my trek towards the dawn, stale water and Krispy Kremes my only guide. I should be so lucky.

Sad state of affairs: While I am quite aware of which classes I have on which days and when, I have a far lower success rate guessing what day it actually is. Darn it. Some might say I'm no longer interested in learning, but this simply isn't true. The problem is that I am being retaught the same things over and over. Two biology classes in high school (50% of which I might count useful... HINT: Not Dodds), a few intro psych courses before, and now this amazing convergence of topics this semester, and now learning new stuff seems harder to come by. Fortunately, for whatever reason (perhaps the TA has passion - more likely, he doesn't like the awkward silences when we don't even attempt to discuss things), my one longass lab session a week is awesome. There are still things to learn; I am so happy! For instance, I've known forever about neurons and their action potential (which remains strangely sexual), but nobody ever really bothered explaining how the actual neurotransmitters got around. Now I know. And I learned about nicotine and cocaine and ecstacy and my meds and and addiction and exactly how they all do what they do.

Even that little bit could at least justify my existence, but the lab got even better. For one thing, I have started down the path of facing my former phobia of rodents. The duality of the situation is strange; I get the usual stomach twisting of fear, but at the same time, they're all fucking adorable! Today we were just supposed to get accustomed to them, and only me and the girl who participates in class actually picked them up and messed around with them. So you can't say I'm not progressing. Next up, lunch meat, fear of. We made the strange progression from rats to rat brains after that. Specifically, we were learning how to do histologies of animal brains. In more or less the most insane process I've ever seen, the TA froze a brain with dry ice, glued it to what was essentially a professional-grade lunch mear slicer, and we took turns making little brain Fruit Rollups. We tried to mount them on slides (a terrible failure) and then dye them so the parts would be more visible. Sadly enough, I think I am the most interested party in the class. Then again, I am also the youngest and least jaded.

Incidentally, yes, I am still using the accent, even when I am in class. I already got a few strange looks in lab today when I started almost spouting a stream of profanities as the rat leapt out of my hands (It seems the Scottish dialect lends itself to profanity... or perhaps that's just my interpretation), but the looks will get even stranger next week when I'm back to normal. Unless Kyle demands an extension. I have to keep making decisions on the fly, such as how I will pronounce "acetyocholine." This is what makes so cool. Of course, if I am caught off guard or emotional or some shit, I tend to slip out of it, but hopefully after a week, even this will pass.

Fucking sloppy weather outside, isn't it? Yes, quite. Four times now I've completely soaked my pants, almost had them dry, and then headed back out to soak them once again. Except it snowed very late tonight, so everything's nice and clean and abandoned and apocolyptic again. Had I not seen cars, I would have automatically assumed I was in a "Twilight Zone" episode.

After stuffing myself with whatever leftovers I could get my hands on, I went with Kyle while he drove Miss Brytne to work. We then hit Schnucks and both spent exactly $8.03 on roughly the same variety of shit foods. Of course, he got a gallon or six of orange sherbert, and I got Fruit Rollups, so one could hardly call that equal. But after a few microwavable White Castles and like 7 cheese sticks, I was pretty much tapped anyway.

Then comes the stream of reality TV shows. "American Idol" was pretty much bullshit tonight, but I've fallen in love with "My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance," and well, "Average Joe 2" was... there. If those guys are truly average, then I am a regular hottie super genius. By this point, Yousaf woke up (his hours being far more twisted than my own), and we watched two three hour movies in a row. Both were pretty good. Magnolia was crazy and interesting, and Fatty McFatfat wasn't so smarmy, so I didn't hate him too much. And the soundtrack just ruled. Especially when everyone sang "Wise Up." And of course, the climax... I guess you'd call it that. Deus ex machina perhaps, but now I'm just throwing around fag terms, aren't I? Braveheart was pretty damn good, too, as far as random psycho violence goes. And it really helped my Scottish pride. Next up, Trainspotting, bagpipes, and the Proclaimers. I think there should have been more of the insane Irishman who thought a) Ireland was HIS and b) God talked to him specifically. But I guess I depend too much on comedic relief, hmm?