I don't dare ask him how he felt about the shenanigans during the Bush years...
...because he was in elementary and middle school for most of it.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
tee hee hee
I don't dare ask him how he felt about the shenanigans during the Bush years...
...because he was in elementary and middle school for most of it.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Just put the air conditioner on
Well, some of the good cheer of the entry from just moments ago is now gone.
I went to the kitchen to make coffee and found the front door wide open. I wondered why someone was standing there holding open the door... and as I exited the hallway, found that it's been propped open by someone's shoe. A bunch of them are huddled around the table playing Risk or something.
That was a bit irritating, because when the bugs come in, they'll go straight to my room. They'll wait and hang out undetected for a few days or weeks, but come out of hiding the night before I need to get up ridiculously early for something terribly engaging and important.
,..kind of like what happened (several times) last term!
The most memorable night was just before an organic chemistry exam. It was about 11 p.m. and I'd successfully made my roommates shut up so I could sleep. I was just about drift off when I started hearing a sound like rain hitting my blinds. "Oh, how lovely," I thought, and smiled as I listened to the soothing rain.
"Hey, I don't have my window open..."
"...so what is making that noise?"
I lift my head and see the shadow of a roach crawling around on the backside of the blinds. The window is RIGHT NEXT to my bed.
I went into battle mode.
The only item I had readily available to deliver a much-deserved punishment to the intruder was a dressy type of shoe...I'd rather have used something a bit more disposable, but I didn't want to go hunting and take my eyes off of that vile creature.
I waited until it emerged from behind the blinds to launch my assault. My anger at this point was about an 11 on a scale only meant to go to 10 and I let loose with a savage strike.
...and missed.
The devilish thing jumped off of the wall and ran under my bed. So, I took off the two-piece mattress thing and kicked around all of the things I stash underneath...nothing. My closet is right next to this, and if it went in there, I was never going to find it. My anger reached 12 out of 10 and now an hour had passed since I'd first been engaged in this affair.
Eventually, I found it under a little box and thought that it was dead. I gave it a good bash, just in case.
...and it took off running up the wall.
20 out of 10.
I beat the hell out of it. Absolute demolition. Came close to spitting on its carcass and strutting around like some sort of macho man, but instead I began the long clean-up process.
After piecing my room back together, over two hours had gone by. Three (plus) hours had gone by when I finally fell asleep. Four hours later, my alarm went off.
I got a 60-something on the exam.
Looking forward to more,
J.O. Morris
I went to the kitchen to make coffee and found the front door wide open. I wondered why someone was standing there holding open the door... and as I exited the hallway, found that it's been propped open by someone's shoe. A bunch of them are huddled around the table playing Risk or something.
That was a bit irritating, because when the bugs come in, they'll go straight to my room. They'll wait and hang out undetected for a few days or weeks, but come out of hiding the night before I need to get up ridiculously early for something terribly engaging and important.
,..kind of like what happened (several times) last term!
The most memorable night was just before an organic chemistry exam. It was about 11 p.m. and I'd successfully made my roommates shut up so I could sleep. I was just about drift off when I started hearing a sound like rain hitting my blinds. "Oh, how lovely," I thought, and smiled as I listened to the soothing rain.
"Hey, I don't have my window open..."
"...so what is making that noise?"
I lift my head and see the shadow of a roach crawling around on the backside of the blinds. The window is RIGHT NEXT to my bed.
I went into battle mode.
The only item I had readily available to deliver a much-deserved punishment to the intruder was a dressy type of shoe...I'd rather have used something a bit more disposable, but I didn't want to go hunting and take my eyes off of that vile creature.
I waited until it emerged from behind the blinds to launch my assault. My anger at this point was about an 11 on a scale only meant to go to 10 and I let loose with a savage strike.
...and missed.
The devilish thing jumped off of the wall and ran under my bed. So, I took off the two-piece mattress thing and kicked around all of the things I stash underneath...nothing. My closet is right next to this, and if it went in there, I was never going to find it. My anger reached 12 out of 10 and now an hour had passed since I'd first been engaged in this affair.
Eventually, I found it under a little box and thought that it was dead. I gave it a good bash, just in case.
...and it took off running up the wall.
20 out of 10.
I beat the hell out of it. Absolute demolition. Came close to spitting on its carcass and strutting around like some sort of macho man, but instead I began the long clean-up process.
After piecing my room back together, over two hours had gone by. Three (plus) hours had gone by when I finally fell asleep. Four hours later, my alarm went off.
I got a 60-something on the exam.
Looking forward to more,
J.O. Morris
Helllllloooo!
I did an in-depth tour of the hospital floor I've been stationed on today...and there was a nurse there who knocked my socks off.
She was easily 5'11", probably more. It's rare that I come across such lovely specimen, especially one who is so physically attractive. Oh. My.
I was grinning like an idiot already, but was really beaming upon laying eyes on her. There was no chance to speak, and I'm not even sure if she saw me. I sure hope that we have a chance to become very well acquainted. Short women are nice, but I like 'em better when they're closer to my size.
Be still, my heart...etc. WOW.
She was easily 5'11", probably more. It's rare that I come across such lovely specimen, especially one who is so physically attractive. Oh. My.
I was grinning like an idiot already, but was really beaming upon laying eyes on her. There was no chance to speak, and I'm not even sure if she saw me. I sure hope that we have a chance to become very well acquainted. Short women are nice, but I like 'em better when they're closer to my size.
Be still, my heart...etc. WOW.
Monday, March 22, 2010
From the fingertips of Pompous (Former) Pre-med
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
Brace yourself for what you're about to read. This comes from a young man who calls himself a Christian and who, for quite some time, was passionate about becoming a physician. I think that, after reading this, you'll agree that his abandonment of that goal (to pursue some sort of business degree, no less) was a good decision.
These words came via a social networking site when a mutual friend expressed his desire for the passing of the health care bill. Our mutual friend is not a terribly intelligent guy by any stretch of the imagination, but he's got a heart of gold and a mind completely absent of hate. Easily one of the nicest, friendliest people I've ever met. He radiates a sort of pureness and goodness, and you just can't help but like him.
At any rate, here is what my flatmate had to say in response. I highlighted...well, the highlights (poor spelling, paranoia, unnecessarily mean and belittling statements...).
"This is about more than just taxes, this is about the government taking a piss on the constitution. This is about them stripping us of our rights every day. This is about you wanting things and not wanting to pay for it. And even if this was a good idea and would make healthcare better (which it wont) we cant afford it and it will drive our country into bankruptsy. I am not surprised you want it though, you blame all your problems on someone else and expect others to take care of you and pay for everything. The responsibility to take care of yourself is on the individual, when the government has countrol they have all the power and can litterally decide who lives and who dies. This bill will change the fundementals of our country and alow them to take more of our God given rights away.
But it gets worse, in the bill they are changing education. If this is passed you will no longer be able to take a student loan from a bank but willl have to go through the government. They will then be able to decide who gets an education and who doesnt. You should be alright though bc you are in the bottom of the intelectual poole and they will certainly take care of the dumber, less fortunate portion of the country and make thoughs who worked hard find their own way. But they wont be able to bc they took away private funding.
This bill is the first movement to a socialist country, a style of government that millions have fought and died to get away from. But that doesnt matter to you, you just want a free lunch no matter what the real cost of our liberties is.
Oh, and maybe you should do a little research and see that Obamas sad stories about ppl dying with no healthcare are a bunch of lies. Most of them were taken care of and died of natural caused, something that is sad but will always happen"
I love the one about God-given rights being taken away. Is not health a God-given right? Obviously not to him. His terrible comments to our friend about him being at the bottom of the intellectual gene pool (and HE'S one to be talking with 3rd grade grammar and spelling like that!) and such left me incensed and I really wanted to tear into him. I thought better of it, however. Our friend didn't respond negatively, either. I knew he wouldn't.
Heh, had I been in the apartment when the bill passed I bet I could've witnessed a heart attack or two. My present company, gracious enough to put me up for the evening after a great day of golf, are uninterested in American politics and we've spent our time watching Jim Furyk win at Innisbrook, sipping fantastic tea, and having grand conversations. It's a nice little life they've carved out for themselves.
In unrelated news, I met with my advisor last week to discuss the term, what the future terms will hold, and how I'm feeling in general about the road to medical school. She paid me some high compliments, best of which was that I'm a strong, lively, and memorable presence...that I have a way with words, good sense of humour, make great eye contact, and generally exude an air of relaxed confidence. ...wow. I felt myself turn bright red when the compliments started raining down. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought she was hitting on me. Those are not things that I hear very often about myself, and I don't even know if I believe most of them to be true. However, she seemed convinced that as long as I can construct a good story, I'll have no problem with medical school admissions committees. I reckon I'll know for sure in two years' time.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Brace yourself for what you're about to read. This comes from a young man who calls himself a Christian and who, for quite some time, was passionate about becoming a physician. I think that, after reading this, you'll agree that his abandonment of that goal (to pursue some sort of business degree, no less) was a good decision.
These words came via a social networking site when a mutual friend expressed his desire for the passing of the health care bill. Our mutual friend is not a terribly intelligent guy by any stretch of the imagination, but he's got a heart of gold and a mind completely absent of hate. Easily one of the nicest, friendliest people I've ever met. He radiates a sort of pureness and goodness, and you just can't help but like him.
At any rate, here is what my flatmate had to say in response. I highlighted...well, the highlights (poor spelling, paranoia, unnecessarily mean and belittling statements...).
"This is about more than just taxes, this is about the government taking a piss on the constitution. This is about them stripping us of our rights every day. This is about you wanting things and not wanting to pay for it. And even if this was a good idea and would make healthcare better (which it wont) we cant afford it and it will drive our country into bankruptsy. I am not surprised you want it though, you blame all your problems on someone else and expect others to take care of you and pay for everything. The responsibility to take care of yourself is on the individual, when the government has countrol they have all the power and can litterally decide who lives and who dies. This bill will change the fundementals of our country and alow them to take more of our God given rights away.
But it gets worse, in the bill they are changing education. If this is passed you will no longer be able to take a student loan from a bank but willl have to go through the government. They will then be able to decide who gets an education and who doesnt. You should be alright though bc you are in the bottom of the intelectual poole and they will certainly take care of the dumber, less fortunate portion of the country and make thoughs who worked hard find their own way. But they wont be able to bc they took away private funding.
This bill is the first movement to a socialist country, a style of government that millions have fought and died to get away from. But that doesnt matter to you, you just want a free lunch no matter what the real cost of our liberties is.
Oh, and maybe you should do a little research and see that Obamas sad stories about ppl dying with no healthcare are a bunch of lies. Most of them were taken care of and died of natural caused, something that is sad but will always happen"
I love the one about God-given rights being taken away. Is not health a God-given right? Obviously not to him. His terrible comments to our friend about him being at the bottom of the intellectual gene pool (and HE'S one to be talking with 3rd grade grammar and spelling like that!) and such left me incensed and I really wanted to tear into him. I thought better of it, however. Our friend didn't respond negatively, either. I knew he wouldn't.
Heh, had I been in the apartment when the bill passed I bet I could've witnessed a heart attack or two. My present company, gracious enough to put me up for the evening after a great day of golf, are uninterested in American politics and we've spent our time watching Jim Furyk win at Innisbrook, sipping fantastic tea, and having grand conversations. It's a nice little life they've carved out for themselves.
In unrelated news, I met with my advisor last week to discuss the term, what the future terms will hold, and how I'm feeling in general about the road to medical school. She paid me some high compliments, best of which was that I'm a strong, lively, and memorable presence...that I have a way with words, good sense of humour, make great eye contact, and generally exude an air of relaxed confidence. ...wow. I felt myself turn bright red when the compliments started raining down. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought she was hitting on me. Those are not things that I hear very often about myself, and I don't even know if I believe most of them to be true. However, she seemed convinced that as long as I can construct a good story, I'll have no problem with medical school admissions committees. I reckon I'll know for sure in two years' time.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Say, do you guys know "Take the A Train?"
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
As I chased off the sleepiness from my eyes this morning, I began to take note of the beautiful conglomeration of sounds from just through the sliding glass door. For a few moments, I just sat there and listened.
Four distinctive patterns constantly making their presence known. A fifth chimes in every 30-45 seconds, it seems.
It's all so lovely and peaceful. I went out on the porch for a few minutes to see if I could catch any sort of glimpse of the beautiful creatures producing such sweet notes. No dice, but it was apparent that they were all around. Birds in stereo.
Rarely do I have a chance to take in this natural symphony at my apartment. I reckon the birds, save for some vultures (yes, indeed), don't much like to be there either.
Each and every time I wake and hear birds singing for me, I'm reminded of a particular morning in my youth. My family was on vacation to an area not so far from here, actually, at my grandmother's house. I was afforded the luxury of sleeping in the room my father occupied during his youth. He told me stories of waking up to find all sorts of wildlife perched upon the roof of the screen porch, just below his window, and I was out like a light in anticipation of what animals I might see in the morning.
I didn't see any, but I heard them.
I first remember the ceiling fan. We'd not lived in a house with a ceiling fan at this point and it was one of the things I enjoyed most about visiting my grandparents in the south. I'd stretch out on the floor below them and try to follow a particular blade for as long as I could. I've always been easily amused.
Next, I took note of the bedsheets. They were a light tan, almost white-ish, with a pattern of triangles separated by about half an inch of blank space. Reminded me of something you might see on a tie.
Then, I heard it all.
First, a woodpecker...but I had no idea what it was. I thought someone was out there hammering away on something.
Next, I heard some high-pitched chirping which sounded so sweet and charming, and it was then that I can first recall thinking that the life of a bird might be one I'd like to have a go at.
To round things out, I heard kind of a squawking, honking sound...it was kept to a minimum. For whatever reason, I decided that it was pelican producing that rather odd sound. heh.
Even though my parents were busy getting ready to go out in the next room over, and I should've been doing the same, I couldn't help but lay there (hands folded behind my head), staring out at the slice of bright, blue, and cloudless sky through the window and taking in every last chirp.
Then, just as now, I wished that I could experience the same back home.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
As I chased off the sleepiness from my eyes this morning, I began to take note of the beautiful conglomeration of sounds from just through the sliding glass door. For a few moments, I just sat there and listened.
Four distinctive patterns constantly making their presence known. A fifth chimes in every 30-45 seconds, it seems.
It's all so lovely and peaceful. I went out on the porch for a few minutes to see if I could catch any sort of glimpse of the beautiful creatures producing such sweet notes. No dice, but it was apparent that they were all around. Birds in stereo.
Rarely do I have a chance to take in this natural symphony at my apartment. I reckon the birds, save for some vultures (yes, indeed), don't much like to be there either.
Each and every time I wake and hear birds singing for me, I'm reminded of a particular morning in my youth. My family was on vacation to an area not so far from here, actually, at my grandmother's house. I was afforded the luxury of sleeping in the room my father occupied during his youth. He told me stories of waking up to find all sorts of wildlife perched upon the roof of the screen porch, just below his window, and I was out like a light in anticipation of what animals I might see in the morning.
I didn't see any, but I heard them.
I first remember the ceiling fan. We'd not lived in a house with a ceiling fan at this point and it was one of the things I enjoyed most about visiting my grandparents in the south. I'd stretch out on the floor below them and try to follow a particular blade for as long as I could. I've always been easily amused.
Next, I took note of the bedsheets. They were a light tan, almost white-ish, with a pattern of triangles separated by about half an inch of blank space. Reminded me of something you might see on a tie.
Then, I heard it all.
First, a woodpecker...but I had no idea what it was. I thought someone was out there hammering away on something.
Next, I heard some high-pitched chirping which sounded so sweet and charming, and it was then that I can first recall thinking that the life of a bird might be one I'd like to have a go at.
To round things out, I heard kind of a squawking, honking sound...it was kept to a minimum. For whatever reason, I decided that it was pelican producing that rather odd sound. heh.
Even though my parents were busy getting ready to go out in the next room over, and I should've been doing the same, I couldn't help but lay there (hands folded behind my head), staring out at the slice of bright, blue, and cloudless sky through the window and taking in every last chirp.
Then, just as now, I wished that I could experience the same back home.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Friday, March 19, 2010
Desperation...delirium...a dash of apathy (Oh no!)
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
Truthfully, I proclaim for all to hear that my feeling this morning is that I might as well have not gone to bed at all last night. The quality of sleep was not an issue, but it's more a problem of duration. My waking early was to allow for completion of the remaining tasks at hand (mostly memorisation of physiological facts), but only a little over half of this has taken place.
My mind is in a bit of a fog...feeling disconnected. One cup of coffee down, another in preparation. Concern over my performance on this afternoon's exam is surprisingly minimal, despite the amount of material I don't know. How do I get myself into these messes?
I'll tell you how. The entire week of spring break was spent pursuing those activities for which I don't ordinarily have time to even think about. A piece of recent history returns to me...I clearly recall thinking on Wednesday or Thursday of last week, "Hmm, there should be another exam in the next week or two. Perhaps I should check the syllabus. ...nah, who'd be so sadistic as to give an exam the week immediately following spring break?"
I know who!
Ah, the more I feel the urgency of the situation and the need to return to a 4-inch stack of notecards, the more I have to write about. Only the signal that my next cup of coffee is ready and waiting is enough to tear me away from this exercise in procrastination. Coincidentally, if procrastination affected the body in a similar manner as regular exercise, my HDL levels would be through the roof.
May the grace of he keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Truthfully, I proclaim for all to hear that my feeling this morning is that I might as well have not gone to bed at all last night. The quality of sleep was not an issue, but it's more a problem of duration. My waking early was to allow for completion of the remaining tasks at hand (mostly memorisation of physiological facts), but only a little over half of this has taken place.
My mind is in a bit of a fog...feeling disconnected. One cup of coffee down, another in preparation. Concern over my performance on this afternoon's exam is surprisingly minimal, despite the amount of material I don't know. How do I get myself into these messes?
I'll tell you how. The entire week of spring break was spent pursuing those activities for which I don't ordinarily have time to even think about. A piece of recent history returns to me...I clearly recall thinking on Wednesday or Thursday of last week, "Hmm, there should be another exam in the next week or two. Perhaps I should check the syllabus. ...nah, who'd be so sadistic as to give an exam the week immediately following spring break?"
I know who!
Ah, the more I feel the urgency of the situation and the need to return to a 4-inch stack of notecards, the more I have to write about. Only the signal that my next cup of coffee is ready and waiting is enough to tear me away from this exercise in procrastination. Coincidentally, if procrastination affected the body in a similar manner as regular exercise, my HDL levels would be through the roof.
May the grace of he keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Thursday, March 18, 2010
My good fortune
Funny how social hour in my living room always seems to take place the evening before an exam for which I'm frantically trying to cram.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The zen of golf
At this point in my life, I can name few things that are equally as satisfying as a good golf swing.
I went out to the driving range today after class, some long hours in the library, and some ridiculous attempts at provocation by Pompous (Former) Pre-Med, and just went to town. I'm pretty solid with my driver after a brief warm-up, and that's usually what I start with. Hit some pretty good ones and reached a new distance milestone of about 215 yards. For someone who has only very casually done this (not even 20 times) over the last year and some change, I'd say that was some good improvement.
Next, I worked a bit with my 9, 8, and 7 irons. Complete rubbish, the lot of them. I somehow hit them worse than ever! When the first rays of anger started shining down on mild frustration, I backed up and repeated my golf mantra, "You have to be good to get mad!" Always makes me laugh.
My PW, Old Faithful, and I had some quality time together despite a bit of turbulence not long after take-off. Reasonable control of placement, and quite good control over distance. Wahoo.
Back to those irritating long irons. Can't fathom why I should have such difficulty. Tried a couple of different things in my swing but only had mild success. With about 5 balls remaining, I wanted to rip a few and boost my self-esteem.
I did just that.
It seems as though the Good Lord saw fit to place but one driver on this planet that allows me to get any sort of control or distance. Thanks, TaylorMade, for producing this one rare gem.
The moment I pick that club up, whether I ultimately hit a bad shot or not, it feels good. Nice responsive shaft, and just enough weight in the club head to remind me in my downswing that I should be letting the club do the work. Oh, it's brilliant. A perfect match, we are.
When I tee up, grab my club, and set up for the drive, I try to erase everything I know from memory. I visualise it like the sudden clearing of dark storm clouds to reveal a pristine, blue, endless foreverness in the sky. It goes on and never stops. I interrupt, only briefly, to remind myself to keep a loose grip and let my body follow through.
As my backswing commences, a twinge of anxiety steps into the picture...mostly over whether or not I'm actually going to get good ball contact, or just hit the top of it. On the downswing, I keep my hands loose, remember to let the club do the work, and I let my mind clear again.
For a moment, I experience a sense of nothingness.
If I've done well, I'm snapped back into reality by that unmistakable and oh-so satisfying cling! that results when club meets ball. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. As far as I know, that ball took flight on its own free will. The follow-through is completely automatic. Don't have to think a thing about it. I'm watching this perfect parabola extending out before me and nothing else in the world is on my mind.
Once the ball lands, I relax back into my normal stance and realise what's just taken place. It's like a taste of Nirvana, as the Buddhists may realise it. Nothingness. A void. A beautiful void. Peace.
The zen of golf, I reckon.
Never would I have ever imagined I'd find something so spiritual in a sport. What a gift, and right on time. Makes me sit back and put things into perspective. Anytime that I've truly needed something, it has somehow been provided...effortlessly. Just, there it is. No sitting around pondering the best route by which to travel to achieve the desired end result. Just go, and things fall into place.
...finding it easier to apply this ideology to the whole process of gaining acceptance into medical school. If I just let go and go, I'll go.
heh.
I went out to the driving range today after class, some long hours in the library, and some ridiculous attempts at provocation by Pompous (Former) Pre-Med, and just went to town. I'm pretty solid with my driver after a brief warm-up, and that's usually what I start with. Hit some pretty good ones and reached a new distance milestone of about 215 yards. For someone who has only very casually done this (not even 20 times) over the last year and some change, I'd say that was some good improvement.
Next, I worked a bit with my 9, 8, and 7 irons. Complete rubbish, the lot of them. I somehow hit them worse than ever! When the first rays of anger started shining down on mild frustration, I backed up and repeated my golf mantra, "You have to be good to get mad!" Always makes me laugh.
My PW, Old Faithful, and I had some quality time together despite a bit of turbulence not long after take-off. Reasonable control of placement, and quite good control over distance. Wahoo.
Back to those irritating long irons. Can't fathom why I should have such difficulty. Tried a couple of different things in my swing but only had mild success. With about 5 balls remaining, I wanted to rip a few and boost my self-esteem.
I did just that.
It seems as though the Good Lord saw fit to place but one driver on this planet that allows me to get any sort of control or distance. Thanks, TaylorMade, for producing this one rare gem.
The moment I pick that club up, whether I ultimately hit a bad shot or not, it feels good. Nice responsive shaft, and just enough weight in the club head to remind me in my downswing that I should be letting the club do the work. Oh, it's brilliant. A perfect match, we are.
When I tee up, grab my club, and set up for the drive, I try to erase everything I know from memory. I visualise it like the sudden clearing of dark storm clouds to reveal a pristine, blue, endless foreverness in the sky. It goes on and never stops. I interrupt, only briefly, to remind myself to keep a loose grip and let my body follow through.
As my backswing commences, a twinge of anxiety steps into the picture...mostly over whether or not I'm actually going to get good ball contact, or just hit the top of it. On the downswing, I keep my hands loose, remember to let the club do the work, and I let my mind clear again.
For a moment, I experience a sense of nothingness.
If I've done well, I'm snapped back into reality by that unmistakable and oh-so satisfying cling! that results when club meets ball. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. As far as I know, that ball took flight on its own free will. The follow-through is completely automatic. Don't have to think a thing about it. I'm watching this perfect parabola extending out before me and nothing else in the world is on my mind.
Once the ball lands, I relax back into my normal stance and realise what's just taken place. It's like a taste of Nirvana, as the Buddhists may realise it. Nothingness. A void. A beautiful void. Peace.
The zen of golf, I reckon.
Never would I have ever imagined I'd find something so spiritual in a sport. What a gift, and right on time. Makes me sit back and put things into perspective. Anytime that I've truly needed something, it has somehow been provided...effortlessly. Just, there it is. No sitting around pondering the best route by which to travel to achieve the desired end result. Just go, and things fall into place.
...finding it easier to apply this ideology to the whole process of gaining acceptance into medical school. If I just let go and go, I'll go.
heh.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Calf talk
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
Never in my life have I spent much time thinking about cows...or even very many other animals, for that matter. This morning is different.
I've a friend who runs a farm, and she and her husband have been anxiously awaiting the birth of some calves. They arrived yesterday and it was a pretty joyous occasion for them, especially considering the fact that they're unable to have children of their own. They all came along beautifully and seemed very healthy...
...except for one.
She wouldn't stand up like the others. She just stayed there, sprawled out on the ground. They took an extraordinary number of photos of the whole ordeal, some of which I received via email. "Eh, a bunch of calves and whatnot," I thought, as I scrolled through about 20 pictures. Then the story of The One Who Wouldn't Stand was laid out before me, complete with pictures.
My heart melted.
It was the most beautiful calf I've ever seen. Had her story not been relayed to me and if there hadn't been any photos of her lying there on a stack ofcomfortable-looking blankets, I don't think I'd have thought an awful lot about it.
That story...the sweet, innocent, and almost scared look on the poor girl's face...it was all too much. She looked so helpless and pitiful, but simultaneously wide-eyed and inquisitive. It was such a tough thing to see. When I read further and found out that she didn't make it, everything within me sank and the urge to weep was strong. So incredibly sad. She only lived about 9 hours and I hope that they were pleasant and peaceful hours without an ounce of suffering. Poor, poor thing.
Abundant apologies for the grey tone of this letter, my dear.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Never in my life have I spent much time thinking about cows...or even very many other animals, for that matter. This morning is different.
I've a friend who runs a farm, and she and her husband have been anxiously awaiting the birth of some calves. They arrived yesterday and it was a pretty joyous occasion for them, especially considering the fact that they're unable to have children of their own. They all came along beautifully and seemed very healthy...
...except for one.
She wouldn't stand up like the others. She just stayed there, sprawled out on the ground. They took an extraordinary number of photos of the whole ordeal, some of which I received via email. "Eh, a bunch of calves and whatnot," I thought, as I scrolled through about 20 pictures. Then the story of The One Who Wouldn't Stand was laid out before me, complete with pictures.
My heart melted.
It was the most beautiful calf I've ever seen. Had her story not been relayed to me and if there hadn't been any photos of her lying there on a stack ofcomfortable-looking blankets, I don't think I'd have thought an awful lot about it.
That story...the sweet, innocent, and almost scared look on the poor girl's face...it was all too much. She looked so helpless and pitiful, but simultaneously wide-eyed and inquisitive. It was such a tough thing to see. When I read further and found out that she didn't make it, everything within me sank and the urge to weep was strong. So incredibly sad. She only lived about 9 hours and I hope that they were pleasant and peaceful hours without an ounce of suffering. Poor, poor thing.
Abundant apologies for the grey tone of this letter, my dear.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Incompetence
To whom it may concern:
Twice this week there have been mix-ups regarding appointment times by secretaries in the medical environment. I have a follow-up appointment tomorrow to go over some blood work (routine), but the secretary swore up and down that I'd scheduled it for two weeks from yesterday. No, ma'am, I'll be either in class or in the library at that time two weeks from yesterday...a good 100 miles from your office. Finally got it sorted it out, but she still made me feel like it was my mistake. Uncharacteristic for secretaries at my physician's office. Bad day, maybe.
The other mix-up, as of yet unresolved, is over a meeting time at the big city hospital. There were three options available, and due to various appointments on the other days, I had to select the last option. I received a reminder call about the meeting this morning, which seemed a bit premature...but then the automated system told me that I'm scheduled for tomorrow at 10 a.m. Hmm, no. No, I'm not. My appointment isn't for two weeks. I called and spoke to the secretary, who also seemed to think that I should be in attendance at the meeting tomorrow. I explained that I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow, which is why I'd scheduled it for a few weeks down the line. She said that she'd have to consult (someone, couldn't understand who) and get back to me. It's been four hours. I suppose that, with close of business fast approaching, I should ring them up again.
Come on, people.
In the normal run of things, I'd probably just shake my head and not think much else about this, but I got rained out of my tee time at one of my favourite golf courses this morning and it's left me feeling a bit grumpy. That's twice that weather conditions have prevented my playing there this spring break. Doesn't look like I'll be playing there at all until just before the summer term begins. I might get in one more round before classes resume...not holding my breath.
All the best,
J.O. Morris
Twice this week there have been mix-ups regarding appointment times by secretaries in the medical environment. I have a follow-up appointment tomorrow to go over some blood work (routine), but the secretary swore up and down that I'd scheduled it for two weeks from yesterday. No, ma'am, I'll be either in class or in the library at that time two weeks from yesterday...a good 100 miles from your office. Finally got it sorted it out, but she still made me feel like it was my mistake. Uncharacteristic for secretaries at my physician's office. Bad day, maybe.
The other mix-up, as of yet unresolved, is over a meeting time at the big city hospital. There were three options available, and due to various appointments on the other days, I had to select the last option. I received a reminder call about the meeting this morning, which seemed a bit premature...but then the automated system told me that I'm scheduled for tomorrow at 10 a.m. Hmm, no. No, I'm not. My appointment isn't for two weeks. I called and spoke to the secretary, who also seemed to think that I should be in attendance at the meeting tomorrow. I explained that I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow, which is why I'd scheduled it for a few weeks down the line. She said that she'd have to consult (someone, couldn't understand who) and get back to me. It's been four hours. I suppose that, with close of business fast approaching, I should ring them up again.
Come on, people.
In the normal run of things, I'd probably just shake my head and not think much else about this, but I got rained out of my tee time at one of my favourite golf courses this morning and it's left me feeling a bit grumpy. That's twice that weather conditions have prevented my playing there this spring break. Doesn't look like I'll be playing there at all until just before the summer term begins. I might get in one more round before classes resume...not holding my breath.
All the best,
J.O. Morris
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
I'll have the chicken...and your love
Dear waitress,
Thank you for playing along with, although not encouraging, my inebriated friend this evening. You were a good sport despite some indications of fear and confusion over his boisterous rambling at certain moments. It's been a long time since I've come across a waitress, or anybody, who so profusely exudes kindness. I got the impression that you're a very gentle soul, and that's precisely the kind I want by my side.
You were also incredibly cute. Had I been a man of greater confidence, surely I'd have expressed my interest in you. Instead, the best I could muster was to try to make a lot of eye contact and smile...you were so busy and our eyes only met a handful of times. I took it to mean that you weren't interested, based on my long and turbulent history with other representatives of your sex.
Something within me almost made me pause and speak to you a bit more as I was leaving...I let you pass before me as you were carrying two armloads of dirty dishes; me, the very last in a long chain of my friends and other customers who were a bit too self-absorbed and plowed right on by, obstructing your pathway. The surprise in your eyes when I stopped and told you go ahead, and then the wonderful, bright, full smile, the adorable head-bobbing from side-to-side thing that you did, and that rather energetic and appreciative, "Thank you!" that you produced as you made your way by me further pushed me to make my approach.
But you're a waitress, and I'm sure that innumerable fellows have a go at chatting you up. To be another creeper on a long list of them is not the ideal position for me.
Perhaps I have the wrong attitude.
Yeah, that's it. Should I then return in a couple of days and hope that you're there? It seems that with each passing minute, the right time for this slips further and further away. But then again, what do I know? It might be the case that my return in the near future just to speak to you would be seen as a romantic and dreamy sort of affair.
Maybe it'd be cause for alarm and a desire to obtain a restraining order. Kidding...mostly. heh.
At any rate, you're quite enchanting and if I can't be the one to tell you these things, then I hope that you have someone who does.
May each of your days be filled with abundant joy and love,
J.O. Morris
Thank you for playing along with, although not encouraging, my inebriated friend this evening. You were a good sport despite some indications of fear and confusion over his boisterous rambling at certain moments. It's been a long time since I've come across a waitress, or anybody, who so profusely exudes kindness. I got the impression that you're a very gentle soul, and that's precisely the kind I want by my side.
You were also incredibly cute. Had I been a man of greater confidence, surely I'd have expressed my interest in you. Instead, the best I could muster was to try to make a lot of eye contact and smile...you were so busy and our eyes only met a handful of times. I took it to mean that you weren't interested, based on my long and turbulent history with other representatives of your sex.
Something within me almost made me pause and speak to you a bit more as I was leaving...I let you pass before me as you were carrying two armloads of dirty dishes; me, the very last in a long chain of my friends and other customers who were a bit too self-absorbed and plowed right on by, obstructing your pathway. The surprise in your eyes when I stopped and told you go ahead, and then the wonderful, bright, full smile, the adorable head-bobbing from side-to-side thing that you did, and that rather energetic and appreciative, "Thank you!" that you produced as you made your way by me further pushed me to make my approach.
But you're a waitress, and I'm sure that innumerable fellows have a go at chatting you up. To be another creeper on a long list of them is not the ideal position for me.
Perhaps I have the wrong attitude.
Yeah, that's it. Should I then return in a couple of days and hope that you're there? It seems that with each passing minute, the right time for this slips further and further away. But then again, what do I know? It might be the case that my return in the near future just to speak to you would be seen as a romantic and dreamy sort of affair.
Maybe it'd be cause for alarm and a desire to obtain a restraining order. Kidding...mostly. heh.
At any rate, you're quite enchanting and if I can't be the one to tell you these things, then I hope that you have someone who does.
May each of your days be filled with abundant joy and love,
J.O. Morris
Monday, March 8, 2010
Aha
Dear Scottish lady on the BBC World Service,
I've been unsuccessful in tracking down audio clips of you, and this is mild-to-moderately depressing. However, I have discovered two different presenters from BBC Scotland that are somewhat comparable. They've not got your always-on, incredibly sexy and seductive air, but they have got just enough to get me all kinds of wrapped up 'round their little finger.
And I do not mind.
This first clip has the added bonus of seeing what the presenter actually looks like, and it's incredibly pleasant. She's a bit too animated in a forced, peppy kind of way. A bit off-putting, but what an accent!
The other clip is far closer to my beloved presenter, although this one's voice is just a bit deeper...still incredibly lovely. It's almost too much. I think that if I were to travel to Scotland, it'd be the last trip I'd ever make. My brain would go bonkers from sensory overload, and I'd either be committed or shut down completely and pass on... all with a smile. A huge smile.
Ooh, I've just been reminded of the Shipping Report! I'll check that out and see what comes of it. So soothing.
Until our paths cross,
J.O. Morris
I've been unsuccessful in tracking down audio clips of you, and this is mild-to-moderately depressing. However, I have discovered two different presenters from BBC Scotland that are somewhat comparable. They've not got your always-on, incredibly sexy and seductive air, but they have got just enough to get me all kinds of wrapped up 'round their little finger.
And I do not mind.
This first clip has the added bonus of seeing what the presenter actually looks like, and it's incredibly pleasant. She's a bit too animated in a forced, peppy kind of way. A bit off-putting, but what an accent!
The other clip is far closer to my beloved presenter, although this one's voice is just a bit deeper...still incredibly lovely. It's almost too much. I think that if I were to travel to Scotland, it'd be the last trip I'd ever make. My brain would go bonkers from sensory overload, and I'd either be committed or shut down completely and pass on... all with a smile. A huge smile.
Ooh, I've just been reminded of the Shipping Report! I'll check that out and see what comes of it. So soothing.
Until our paths cross,
J.O. Morris
Talk to me
Dear Scottish lady on the BBC World Service,
Each time that I'm so lucky as to hear your adorable voice, I can feel the blood vessels throughout my body throbbing ferociously and I get a bit light-headed. You do all sorts of wonderful things to me, and I do wish that our paths might somehow cross. It would be ideal that you got swept up by my charm (you'll have to be easily swept up, for an Archibald Leach I am not), we married, and had loads of children who end up speaking with your accent.
So, how about it? Let's find each other, and for the first few months of our courtship I'd be content to cook dinner and just sit and listen to you speak...about anything. Read from one of those old Time Life DIY home repair books (even the plumbing one), or anything else ever published, and no matter what, you'd have a captive audience.
(Couldn't find a clip of the woman of my fancy, but the lovely-sounding lady presenting the weather at the beginning of this clip is pretty close. Oh, my. EDIT: It seems as though the BBC has pulled a fast one and switched up the clips on me... I'll seek out another clip from another source. )
Anxiously awaiting you,
J.O. Morris
Each time that I'm so lucky as to hear your adorable voice, I can feel the blood vessels throughout my body throbbing ferociously and I get a bit light-headed. You do all sorts of wonderful things to me, and I do wish that our paths might somehow cross. It would be ideal that you got swept up by my charm (you'll have to be easily swept up, for an Archibald Leach I am not), we married, and had loads of children who end up speaking with your accent.
So, how about it? Let's find each other, and for the first few months of our courtship I'd be content to cook dinner and just sit and listen to you speak...about anything. Read from one of those old Time Life DIY home repair books (even the plumbing one), or anything else ever published, and no matter what, you'd have a captive audience.
(Couldn't find a clip of the woman of my fancy, but the lovely-sounding lady presenting the weather at the beginning of this clip is pretty close. Oh, my. EDIT: It seems as though the BBC has pulled a fast one and switched up the clips on me... I'll seek out another clip from another source. )
Anxiously awaiting you,
J.O. Morris
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
The fog has lifted
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
I reckon I've got the rest of my university career planned out as of this morning. It's kind of a strange feeling... for all of my collegiate experience until this point, I went into registration periods with an idea of what I wanted (needed) to take and would end up adjusting based on availability. Those days are over (save for Organic Chem lab...never, ever enough seats to accommodate those who wish to take it). Further making my head spin (rather pleasantly) is that the end is in sight. It's still a ways off, but I've a very clear path to the finish line.
Boy, this time next year, I'll have a date set to sit for the MCAT. The very thought is cause for excitement. I always grin like an idiot before, during, and after huge milestones. I'm even grinning a year early on this one. Imagine...me applying to medical school!
Ha, just now I've realised that an assignment deadline is fast approaching. Forgot all about it. Coffee, here I come!
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
I reckon I've got the rest of my university career planned out as of this morning. It's kind of a strange feeling... for all of my collegiate experience until this point, I went into registration periods with an idea of what I wanted (needed) to take and would end up adjusting based on availability. Those days are over (save for Organic Chem lab...never, ever enough seats to accommodate those who wish to take it). Further making my head spin (rather pleasantly) is that the end is in sight. It's still a ways off, but I've a very clear path to the finish line.
Boy, this time next year, I'll have a date set to sit for the MCAT. The very thought is cause for excitement. I always grin like an idiot before, during, and after huge milestones. I'm even grinning a year early on this one. Imagine...me applying to medical school!
Ha, just now I've realised that an assignment deadline is fast approaching. Forgot all about it. Coffee, here I come!
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Nothing much to see here
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
Recently, I met with some representatives (administrator types and medical students) from a nearby medical university and was quite impressed all the way around. That particular school had never really been on my radar before, but it now sits amongst my top choices. Quite funny how such things occur.
Spring break is drawing near and it's going to be full of golf. Playing a round on Saturday, driving range on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday at the least, and perhaps another game on Friday. Very soon, the weather will make it unbearable to be outside for more than ten seconds and my poor clubs will be locked up until November. I weep at the thought.
The chances of my having made a significantly passing score on my statistics midterm are low. I was presented with several problems for which the correct formulas completely escaped me. My grade is in the mid-90s as it stands, so I'm hoping I won't take too big of a hit...maybe can drag it (just barely) back up to an A with the remainder of the coursework. Hope so.
Two exams await me on Friday...and then freedom. Hopping right in my Model T (ha) straight after class and going home!
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Recently, I met with some representatives (administrator types and medical students) from a nearby medical university and was quite impressed all the way around. That particular school had never really been on my radar before, but it now sits amongst my top choices. Quite funny how such things occur.
Spring break is drawing near and it's going to be full of golf. Playing a round on Saturday, driving range on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday at the least, and perhaps another game on Friday. Very soon, the weather will make it unbearable to be outside for more than ten seconds and my poor clubs will be locked up until November. I weep at the thought.
The chances of my having made a significantly passing score on my statistics midterm are low. I was presented with several problems for which the correct formulas completely escaped me. My grade is in the mid-90s as it stands, so I'm hoping I won't take too big of a hit...maybe can drag it (just barely) back up to an A with the remainder of the coursework. Hope so.
Two exams await me on Friday...and then freedom. Hopping right in my Model T (ha) straight after class and going home!
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
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