| You guys, I just have so much to tell you and so little time in which to tell you all of it.
Here's what's new and different in my life, just to catch you up:
1) Everything.
I don't live in New York anymore, I'm not a nanny anymore, I have a new, wee part-timeish job, I'm in school full-time, I live in the midwest, I have a dog, I dyed my hair, I "drive" a "car," I don't take the subway, I don't have roommates, I don't go on dates, I haven't had good sushi in MONTHS, and I haven't had a glass of wine since August 27th.
It's weird, but good, but weird all at the same time. If I don't wear make up to school, people think I'm an undergrad freshman. I didn't have any friends in my program until recently, and that was hard and a little lonely. But now other people talk to me. Like, they even know my name and everything.
My part-timeish job is still in research, but now I'm in one of the top children's hospitals in the country, working in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. You guys, they're so small. And fuzzy. I just love them. You could totally put one in your pocket and walk out with it- nobody would know. (THE PRECEDING SENTENCE WAS NOT TRUE AND IN NO WAY IS IT MEANT TO HINT THAT THE WRITER OF THIS BLOG SUPPORTS THE STEALING OF BABIES, PREMATURE OR OTHERWISE. WE THINK THE WRITER THOUGHT SHE WAS BEING FUNNY. SHE WAS OBVIOUSLY WRONG.)
I have to go because I have to study for a big thing tomorrow, but I just wanted to pop in to say two things:
1) Let the record show that yesterday was the first day that I've gotten into trouble for uncontrollable giggles during class and
2) I'm a messy, messy girl.
Here's the scoop.
1) The friendly little group I've fallen into at school consists of a 50 year old school teacher who desires a career change (god bless her), a 31 year old ex marine, a 23 year old meathead (who is actually pretty smart), a 25 year old former Peace Corps volunteer, and yours truly. We are eclectic. The Marine, the Meathead and I were in a group yesterday trying to draw these different types of cells under the microscope after we'd done some shit to them. I was kind of yelling at nobody in particular about the amount of bubbles on our slide (it was the Marine's fault), and the other two were ignoring me and arguing about something having to do with scientific notation. Finally, I stood up and said "Hey, why am I the only one getting any work done around here, you big dicks?" and the Marine said "Actually, technically the Meathead has only 7 x 10 -9 inches penis."
And I just lost it. Absolutely lost it. We're talking wet gasping horsey snorting while bent over my microscope, which means I bumped my face on the eye hole thingy. Instantly, the Marine and the Meathead were utterly composed, studiously sketching in their lab notebooks, acting as though not only had they NOT just defined Meathead's penis in terms of exponential notion, but they'd been Sciencing away for some time now, and would appreciate it if I kept it down.
The lab professor- a misguided-but-good-hearted-incredibly-sweaty-and-dramatic woman I'll call Jeri- lumbered over to me and said "Something amusing on your slide?"
"Ah...uh..YES. I mean NO. I don't know." I said brightly.
"Would you like me to take a look?"
"N-no, that's okay. Sorry Jeri. I just...biology got the best of me for a minute there. I'll be quiet."
"Thank you," she said, and walked back to the front of the room, leaving Hansel and Gretel style sweat drops behind her in case she should need to find me again.
I really hadn't caused any scenes up until this point, I promise.
"I'm surprised you lasted this long," the Suzer said on the phone last night.
Story the Second
Due to an unfortunate series of circumstances, earlier this week I had to hand in some homework that maybe had some guacamole spilled on it. Maybe. I felt awful about it, but it was an assignment that was on a handout- I couldn't rewrite it or print out another copy or anything. I tried to wipe it off, but that mostly just spread a thin, viscous layer of green over that corner of the page. I briefly contemplated whiting it out, but then I thought I'd done enough damage as it was, and I should concentrate my efforts on my studies instead. So I circled the green splotch, drew an arrow pointing to it, and wrote "This is guacamole. Sorry!" I wanted my professor to know that it wasn't that I disrespected her class to the point of using her handouts as a napkin, it's that I'm a klutz. Do you think that read from my note? Me neither.
So I had explained this whole thing to my mom as we were hanging out before I left for school the next day. I noticed her brow furrow, and her mouth purse- all things she does when she's worrying about me. Just as I was about to head out, she came over and started unzipping my purse.
"You're going to be gone all day at school, Meg. You're going to need coffee, and snacks, and things. I'm just going to tuck a little something in your wallet. Just in ca-"
"MOM. SERIOUSLY? Don't you dare put money in my wallet! Come on! I'm an adult. Just because I moved back here does not mean that I'm a child- I can provide for myself. I can buy my OWN coffee, and my OWN snacks, and I really, really don't want YOUR money. You keep it! I'm not taking money from you. For real. I love you, but no thanks." I crossed my arms triumphantly.
My mother had had her fingers frozen in my purse during my entire tirade. Her eyebrows were raised so high they could have leaped off her forehead. She opened her mouth to speak, and then thought better of it, and closed it again. I mean, what could she say to me, anyway, right? I sure did tell her.
Instead, with a flick of her wrist she delicately raised her fingers, revealing her surreptitious contribution to my day...
It was a Shout wipe.
"Ah." I said nobly. "Carry on." Labels: accidents, babies, on the homefront, school |
Mothers know their children, don't they?
Also, come visit me and let's have some wine!
JILL