on my career decision

I honestly don't remember a day when I didn't know what I "wanted to be when I grow up" and I think I take that for granted. So many people these days go into school undecided but I've been decided since kindergarden. I could not imagine the stress that most college students have because they don't know what to do with their lives. And at some point they have to decide. They have to declare a major in something so that their time going to school isn't just wasted while trying to figure it out.

And how do you decide at that point? How do you say, "well I guess I like this enough to continue with it?" Maybe I have a different mentality about it in the fact that I want to be able to use the degree that I obtain. I don't want to be an english major working at a bank. I don't want to be a psychology major working in a department store. I work hard in the classes I take and want that work to pay off some day in my future. Then there's the other situation where someone knows they like a subject but has no idea what to do with it. Someone loves history but doesn't want to work in a museum or as a teacher or as a writer.... then what? You have a passion and no way to use it. I actually think that's the worse of the two and seriously sympathize with people stuck in that sinking boat.

My mom found a kids book of mine that is falling apart at the seams from being read so much... which book? I Want To Be A Doctor, featuring the one and only Big Bird from Sesame Street. And yes, I received this book when I was maybe four years old. That's how long I've known that I wanted to go into medicine, a whopping 17 years. I've been fortunate enough to never have that little voice in my head whisper to me "are you sure?" Or at least it never stuck around long enough for me to actually consider something else. I've had random thoughts about being something else but most of them were spurred from wanting to do what was cool to all the 10 year olds. Who wouldn't want to be an astronaut when your 5th grade class is studying space?

I've also been fortunate enough to love the field I've chosen and to be pretty good at it too. I'm typically not one to brag about myself and say "look at me and how good I am" but school has always been my thing, it's been what I've been really good at. So whether it's in my genes and I got the gift of smart-ness from my parents or if I've pushed myself hard enough whenever I can, I've been able to succeed in being a bio major and I hope *crosses fingers* that I have a good shot at getting into medicine.

Now, I'm sure you're thinking, ok sweet she's optimistic and has everything going for her doesn't she? And yes it seems that way as of right now but I have a looming decision coming that might change everything. As the girl who has dreamt of being a doctor since she can remember, I don't know what I would do if I don't get into medical school. I've never seriously considering any thing else, any sort of back-up, so I'll be left sitting in the dust if the image of getting into med school doesn't materialize. And yes, this is a very scary thought. Hopefully it doesn't happen, hopefully I get acceptance letters and I don't have to worry about any of this.....

Now I'm going to attempt to pour in as much chemistry as will fit into my already full brain for the rest of the day, wish me luck.

on a Saturday morning

+ Yesterday I motivated myself to go swim, for the first time in way too long. And by swim I mean actually swim, not just lay by the side of the pool and occasionally dunk myself to cool off. It was a gorgeous day yesterday not to mention that I'm sick of working out in the gym where you run on the treadmill staring at the backs of people's heads wishing it didn't smell like BO and alcohol sanitizer as you're trying to get healthier. (Hostility towards the gym? Ok, I'm guilty.) So, not only was it refreshing to get outside to work out but I realized how much I miss the pool. Now mind you, its probably been a good year and a half since I've swam more than two laps at a given time so I was struggling more than I anticipated, but I loved it. There's just something about being in the pool. You can't hear anyone else's conversation, you're left to your own thoughts or like I was yesterday, left to focus on the sound of your strokes. Its so rhythmic. I love being able to focus on my breath; when I breath in, how long I hold it and when I breath out. Its extremely calming. Plus this is the most sore I've been after a work out in a long time which makes me feel good. Weird right that I associate pain with good, but it means I'm doing something good for myself. So you triceps and lats that I somehow managed to completely forget about for the last year and are throbbing as I sit here, hurry up and feel better so I can go swim again.

+ Even if I wasn't sore today I wouldn't be able to go back to the pool again anyways. Weather yesterday= close to 70. Weather today=57 and cloudy. Come on San Diego, stop teasing me with the gorgeous weather just so you can take it away the next day. It should be shorts weather, it is the middle of March already. ;-) Ok so maybe I'm being a little dramatic but I just want to be tan, wear shorts, go to the beach and for it to be summer already!

+ I attempted a little self photo shoot which lasted all of five minutes yesterday because I was grungy from the pool and did not look up to standards. However, I did get a decent one which surprised me and its seen above. I feel like it captures the mood I've been in lately hence the reason I decided to post it. Maybe I'll try again some other day too and see what managed to form.

+ I'm really not motivated to get school related things done today, even though I probably should. Jeff's off recording his radio show, The Mulligan Show , and I'm sitting here having coffee and wanting to do more exciting things than study. I'm really in the mood to go to Ikea. I can't seem to get enough of that store and maybe I can get some new dishes, or some throw pillows, or a new frame, or a cactus. I have a few errands to run today too, nothing very important but at least I can use it as an excuse to get out of homework. But if worse comes to worse, I guess I wouldn't mind terribly if I could go sit at Starbucks, treat myself to a muffin and crank out some studying. The day will tell I guess.

+ My puppy obsession is just about as ridiculous as it's ever been. Seriously if I see someone walking a dog, not even a puppy, I have to stop myself from acting like a 5 year old and yelling "doggy" as I run up for a scratch behind the ear (for the dog I mean, just thought I'd clarify.) Our apartment manager called me yesterday to see if we were going to renew our lease and I couldn't have been happier to tell her "nope, sorry, we're moving." I just happened to leave out the part about moving so we could get our beloved puppy. The end of July can't come soon enough!

+ It is a mere 18 days until I get to go home for a few days for spring break. I'm very excited. That's all.

on a shift in personality

I've never been one to think about what's happened in my life and choose to write about it. Yes I'll look back at the things that have happened to me, the things I've been through and dealt with but it always stays in my head. I'm much more of an in-the-moment type of girl and typically believe that the past is past. I guess it might be a good quality, especially compared to the people that never seem to get over a traumatizing or life-changing event and you want to smack up-side the head and say "get over the break-up from middle school already." (Okay maybe that's a little much but you know what I mean) However, at the same time I sometimes see my closed past as a bad quality too, that I don't take enough time to think about my life and how I got here.

I sometimes have the attitude that "I am who I am" and believe that looking back isn't going to change that and who cares how it affected me.... What happens next? My assignment for my writing class happens to be a memoir, directed at one, individual moment in our past. I could be any moment from any time in our life as long as it was real, aka no dreams. Initially I dreaded it because I felt that looking into a moment of my life was pointless. I had more important things to take care of then sit and wonder about hidden meaning in a single event let alone form a coherent paper about with emotion and structure to turn in. Then I started to write....

While my first draft was not pretty, contained too many grammar and punctuation errors than I'd like to acknowledge, and was more stream-of-consciousness that required, I was somehow happy with it. With some revisions the paper started to take shape and ended up being something I was very proud of. Needless to say, I was shocked that 1. I was able to pull off a decent essay that would hopefully get the grade I wanted but more importantly, 2. that I liked, maybe even loved, the piece I had written. And I liked the way it made me feel.

Now would be the time that I copy and paste in my self-proclaimed masterpiece but I don't think I'm ready for that. To be honest, I almost wrote a second essay for my class because I wasn't comfortable with the transition from "never talking about a memory" to "having someone else read my writing about a memory." But I didn't write the second piece.

I'm proud of that too.

Maybe I'll go into more detail about the emotion behind me piece and the changes that it's made in my life since I simply wrote about it but we shall see. At least for now I have written my memoir piece and this is my favorite part...

I cannot say how long I sat in the grass or even what I was looking at. I have no recollection of what lay beyond my hill, what buildings were there or what people I saw. I don’t remember who attended the funeral or what I had to eat. I don’t remember the color of my dress or how much I had cried. I do remember feeling lighter as I stood up from those uncomfortable, wooden, bleached white chairs that seemed to be the only controlled item of the whole day. I do remember walking away from the family I had left and the friends who tried to understand. I do remember sitting in the damp grass and knowing that my life would be changed forever. I do remember the breeze.

on who I am

i am...

... amazed how I am literally woken up some mornings, like this one, because my stomach is growling. How does that happen? I ate a big dinner last night and even indulged on a few delicious Samoa Girl Scout cookies before bed. A few years ago, I used to get sick to my stomach if I ate too soon after waking up and now my stomach has turned into a greedy beast that screams pancakes or omelets.

... sort of annoyed, yet still proud, that even with all the times I've gone to the gym this semester, nothing about my body is changing. I've been working out way more than I have since I've been in high school. And while I wasn't a significant victim of the dreaded "freshmen 15" I'm not in the same shape I was back then and that's what I want back. I guess its sort of a catch 22 because I can eat whatever I want and not have to think about calories or fat content and where it will be placed on my body... but at the same time, working out makes me want to see positive changes in my body too. Maybe my body's just slow? Yeah, that's it.

... feeling like the stress of MCAT studying hasn't fully reached the brim yet but that its hiding, waiting to explode. I try to study at least 3 days a week for at least a little while and I've made decent progress. As the procrastinator that I am I calculated yesterday, based on page numbers, that I am 62 percent of the way through my books. Which in my mind is farther than I thought I was. Yet I still have a sneaking suspicion that, come spring break, the steaming pot of stress is going to boil over... Hopefully since I have that feeling now I can act on it and prevent that from happening.

... missing home more and more lately. I think my mini-trip back to Littleton for spring break is going to be much needed. I love San Diego and the life I have here but there's something about home that's been calling on me lately. I miss my family, my puppy, meals I don't have to cook, shopping I don't have to do, and just the city of the 303. Maybe I miss just being a kid... maybe I just need a break.

... excited to go buy a new wet-suit for our dive trip to Antigua this summer. Mine doesn't fit anymore, which makes me want to go live on the treadmill till June, but none the less, I'm getting a new one.

... in need of my daily coffee. French vanilla or caramel? We shall see...

on messy buns

My life lately has consisted of jeans, sweatshirts and messy buns. I have no shame being such a slob and don't care what people think when they see me on campus looking like I'm ready for bed. But really, when did this happen to me? When did I stop caring about looking good and getting dressed in the morning? I know a lot of it has to do with me dating Jeff now. He loves me for who I am and I don't need to cake on the make-up and wear heals just to have him love me.

But that's not why it bothers me. It bothers me because I used to be different. I used to get up extra early in high school just to curl every hair on my head and make sure I looked perfect before walking out of the house. Looking nice should not only be saved for "catching the right guy" or special occasions, which is what its come to at this point. It's shocking to me when I actually do put myself together and people I see all the time are amazed, saying "wow you have heals on" or "I didn't realize how long your hair is getting."

Yes I'm busier now and yes I have the perfect boyfriend. But I'm going to break out the nice jeans and the blow dryer, wear more than just t-shirts and a little mascara, and at least TRY to be more put together. I truly love looking great and it makes me feel so much better about myself. I just have to find a balance between the importance of the extra half hour of sleep and the feeling I get from being dressed up.