“I always get malignant and benign confused.”
That was my excuse when someone asked me why I had a medical dictionary. It wasn’t a total lie. I do get the two diagnosis confused, but it’s not why I own a medical dictionary. It may be the reason why I didn’t become a doctor; there’s no room for errors. In the broad scheme of things, educators save more lives and there is room for error, as long as there’s opportunity to improve from the errors.
…but I digress…
I needed a Medical Dictionary to look up information on Leukemia. I wasn’t sure what it was or what the symptoms and treatments for it entailed. Besides my parents, the only other family members I really care for are my grandmother, one uncle, and one aunt. Everyone else is either blatantly two-faced or just dead beats. My uncle, my mother’s baby brother, was recently diagnosed with Leukemia. I wasn’t sure how severe the situation was so I bought a medical dictionary and looked it up. It states the different types of Leukemia. That is requires frequent blood transfusions. A severe case, Acute 1, gives the patient a life expectancy of a matter of weeks. Another, Chronic 1, gives a patient a “median survival expectancy; approx. 11-15 years.”
Distracted, I highlight in my dictionary and close the book, needing time to think about this.
“Whatcha’ doin’ with a medical dictionary?” a girl sitting at an adjacent bar stool asks.
“I’m studying to be a nurse.”
Cutting the tip of a cigar, I pull out my lighter.
2.16.2008
It's Hard to Escape (A Two Part Self Assessment Story) Part Two
…I looked like a hung over magician Saturday night. I didn’t purposely set out to look like a magician, I hate magicians actually; they’re annoying. A waitress knows me as a regular and didn’t believe it when I told her why I was dressed up. Neither did the table of college students I met later in the night. Without my bag of paperwork and lesson plans, I got bored. The only tools with me were a pen and my sunglasses, so I put them on - even though there wasn’t a need for them and it was harder to see. As a reflex, my hand will immediately begin doodling on the nearest object, a coaster. I suppose it was my affinity for architecture that inspires me to draw buildings or in this case, a house.
Meanwhile, my friend was talking to a waitress who was now sitting with us. When she went back to work, another familiar face walked in and sat with us. She had had a crush on my friend but came to sit and talk to me.
“I have a single friend you should meet”, she started “I think she’d like you because you have style!”
“I do what can.” I wasn’t sure how else to respond at the time. I was tired and had other subjects preoccupying my mind.
“You even look sexy when you’re hung over.”
Even this didn’t really build enough interest for me to look up from my doodling on coasters.
“That’s why I don’t think you’re a good match with that girl you were with at the party last week.”
Now I stopped writing. Without my prompting, she began making very general statements such as:
“She wasn’t _____________ enough for you.”
I wasn’t doodling anymore, instead the pen was being strangled in my hand and I glared behind my sunglasses listening to her ridiculous judgments. My friend changed the subject. He knew I was getting upset. Still glaring at her, this ridiculous little girl, I had a moment of self assessment. Somewhere outside, was a table of her friends and I was dressed up like a hung over magician. I took my drink, coaster, and pen then walked outside.
“Howdy, you’re friend was boring me so I hope you guys are more entertaining.”
Naturally, I sat next to the cutest girl, who also turned out to be the shyest and most soft spoken. I poked fun at them. They questioned my affinity for wearing sunglasses at one in the morning. I replied by saying “I just had my pupils dilated”. They asked why I was so dressed up and I told them about my career and chaperoning a dance (or to be more specific, “I was making sure no one was doing bugger sugar in the bathroom”). They said teachers weren’t as good looking when they were in school. They complemented my doodle on the coaster. I claimed to have the power to reveal their personality just by examining how they draw a house. I teased them with a brief explanation using my doodle and made a bad joke about needing to add blinds on my windows. They replied with a perverted but flattering comment. They drew houses and I interpreted their meaning. It was very revealing for some of them and if I found them to be a protective and closed off person, I’d tease and say “Wow, you got issues. Do you need a hug? Are you okay? Remember, you’re with friends right now. Relax!” and they’d all smile and laugh.
Side Note: The House Personality test is a great way to introduce lesson plans over Symbolism or short stories such as Saki’s “The Interlopers” or Robert Frost’s “The Mending Wall” and really, isn’t that what it’s all about?
Meanwhile, my friend was talking to a waitress who was now sitting with us. When she went back to work, another familiar face walked in and sat with us. She had had a crush on my friend but came to sit and talk to me.
“I have a single friend you should meet”, she started “I think she’d like you because you have style!”
“I do what can.” I wasn’t sure how else to respond at the time. I was tired and had other subjects preoccupying my mind.
“You even look sexy when you’re hung over.”
Even this didn’t really build enough interest for me to look up from my doodling on coasters.
“That’s why I don’t think you’re a good match with that girl you were with at the party last week.”
Now I stopped writing. Without my prompting, she began making very general statements such as:
“She wasn’t _____________ enough for you.”
I wasn’t doodling anymore, instead the pen was being strangled in my hand and I glared behind my sunglasses listening to her ridiculous judgments. My friend changed the subject. He knew I was getting upset. Still glaring at her, this ridiculous little girl, I had a moment of self assessment. Somewhere outside, was a table of her friends and I was dressed up like a hung over magician. I took my drink, coaster, and pen then walked outside.
“Howdy, you’re friend was boring me so I hope you guys are more entertaining.”
Naturally, I sat next to the cutest girl, who also turned out to be the shyest and most soft spoken. I poked fun at them. They questioned my affinity for wearing sunglasses at one in the morning. I replied by saying “I just had my pupils dilated”. They asked why I was so dressed up and I told them about my career and chaperoning a dance (or to be more specific, “I was making sure no one was doing bugger sugar in the bathroom”). They said teachers weren’t as good looking when they were in school. They complemented my doodle on the coaster. I claimed to have the power to reveal their personality just by examining how they draw a house. I teased them with a brief explanation using my doodle and made a bad joke about needing to add blinds on my windows. They replied with a perverted but flattering comment. They drew houses and I interpreted their meaning. It was very revealing for some of them and if I found them to be a protective and closed off person, I’d tease and say “Wow, you got issues. Do you need a hug? Are you okay? Remember, you’re with friends right now. Relax!” and they’d all smile and laugh.
Side Note: The House Personality test is a great way to introduce lesson plans over Symbolism or short stories such as Saki’s “The Interlopers” or Robert Frost’s “The Mending Wall” and really, isn’t that what it’s all about?
It's Hard to Escape (A Two Part Self Assessment Story) Part One
I was meeting a friend to do some studying the other night then noticed them immediately as I walked in the door. A three-set of stereotypical sorority girls: blonde, overly mystic tanned, loud, squeaky, matching North face jackets. Their table was next to ours and I couldn’t help myself. Immediately engaged in the three second rule, I purposely overheard their conversation.
…wonder what he’s doing?
…1…
He’s got a lot of paper work….
…2…They were talking about my friend who was already busily at work…3…
…but he’s using a marker?
…4… “We’re Teachers.”
The trio turned their attention to me and in unison exclaimed “Ohhhhhh!”, and I had to continue somehow. “Sorry, either I’m too nosey or you are but I couldn’t resist myself.”
“(giggles) It’s probably me that was too nosey (giggle)!”
Smiling, turning my attention away, pulling my own stacks of paperwork out …1…2…3… and they were already discussing the next stop on their bar crawl. I forgot my lines and it was past the three second window – attempting to get them engaged again would look needy now. There was no need for my partner to look up from his work or complete his thought:
“You know”, he started “you did it agai…”
“I know! I know!” I whispered through my teeth “I only had three seconds to think of an opener”, and couldn’t think of anything more interesting, challenging, dangerous, or important than being an educator.
“Mmmm hmm”, he replied.
Then we got back to work. I was in such a different mindset last Saturday…
…wonder what he’s doing?
…1…
He’s got a lot of paper work….
…2…They were talking about my friend who was already busily at work…3…
…but he’s using a marker?
…4… “We’re Teachers.”
The trio turned their attention to me and in unison exclaimed “Ohhhhhh!”, and I had to continue somehow. “Sorry, either I’m too nosey or you are but I couldn’t resist myself.”
“(giggles) It’s probably me that was too nosey (giggle)!”
Smiling, turning my attention away, pulling my own stacks of paperwork out …1…2…3… and they were already discussing the next stop on their bar crawl. I forgot my lines and it was past the three second window – attempting to get them engaged again would look needy now. There was no need for my partner to look up from his work or complete his thought:
“You know”, he started “you did it agai…”
“I know! I know!” I whispered through my teeth “I only had three seconds to think of an opener”, and couldn’t think of anything more interesting, challenging, dangerous, or important than being an educator.
“Mmmm hmm”, he replied.
Then we got back to work. I was in such a different mindset last Saturday…
2.10.2008
"And I wonder..."
Once upon a time, a man and a woman were walking in the park together.
“This is our song!” she told me. I was immediately apprehensive. Usually it’s a song I’m not familiar with or in a genre I dislike.
“Yeah… you sure about that?” I ask; very cocky, too demeaning, trying to shy away from the point.
“Yes, it’s our favorite band. It’s your favorite song! This is our song.”
I had to change the subject. She was on the offense and it was so painful for me to even consider.
“This is the song that you want to be played on our wedding day.”
“…”
She looks at me but not in a way a woman looks at you for confirmation. She already knows her accusations are true and doesn’t need any confirmation.
“…This isn’t even a song”, I try and protest, “…this is the morning weather report!”
She almost immediately begins to tear up.
“ Yo...’ll nev…r …eally gro… …p and liste… to …, will …u?”
“What?” I ask desperately because she wasn’t making any sense.
I wasn’t making any sense.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5:45 AM
“…accident on I-40. Two cars involved will hold up traffic an extra fifteen minutes. Avoid if possible. Last night, the temperature will drop…”
My alarm clock introduces me to a new day promptly at five, forty-five in the A.M. so I can get a solid thirty to forty-five minutes of weightlifting or cardio before going to work in the morning.
I woke up alone this particular morning. I’m usually disturbed by dreams involving wedding bells of any kind. This was a different feeling, somehow. I wasn’t disturbed but… it didn’t feel… great…?
There are many theories based on interpreting dreams, but there are also many theories that claim our dreams have no meaning.
Dreaming about a wedding has interpretations that include:
“…symbolizing a new beginning or transition in your current life… often negative and highlight some anxiety or fear. It often refers to feelings of bitterness, sorrow, or death. Alternatively, wedding dreams reflect your issues about commitment and independence.”
Or:
“To dream that you are planning your own wedding to someone you never met, is a metaphor symbolizing the union of your masculine and feminine side. It represents a transitional phase where you are seeking some sort of balance between your aggressive side and emotional side.”
Taking such interpretations from Dreammoods.com, I choose option ‘C’ and assume dreams have no real meaning.
On the other hand... I know exactly what song she’s talking about and won’t be able to listen to it again. Specific songs, according to Dreammoods.com, are interpreted to mean:
“…that you are looking at things from a spiritual viewpoint. Your future path is a happy one with good health and much wealth. Consider the words to the song that you are dreaming about for additional messages.”
I guess that’s something to look forward to experiencing.
Do you know what song I'm talking about? She does.
“This is our song!” she told me. I was immediately apprehensive. Usually it’s a song I’m not familiar with or in a genre I dislike.
“Yeah… you sure about that?” I ask; very cocky, too demeaning, trying to shy away from the point.
“Yes, it’s our favorite band. It’s your favorite song! This is our song.”
I had to change the subject. She was on the offense and it was so painful for me to even consider.
“This is the song that you want to be played on our wedding day.”
“…”
She looks at me but not in a way a woman looks at you for confirmation. She already knows her accusations are true and doesn’t need any confirmation.
“…This isn’t even a song”, I try and protest, “…this is the morning weather report!”
She almost immediately begins to tear up.
“ Yo...’ll nev…r …eally gro… …p and liste… to …, will …u?”
“What?” I ask desperately because she wasn’t making any sense.
I wasn’t making any sense.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5:45 AM
“…accident on I-40. Two cars involved will hold up traffic an extra fifteen minutes. Avoid if possible. Last night, the temperature will drop…”
My alarm clock introduces me to a new day promptly at five, forty-five in the A.M. so I can get a solid thirty to forty-five minutes of weightlifting or cardio before going to work in the morning.
I woke up alone this particular morning. I’m usually disturbed by dreams involving wedding bells of any kind. This was a different feeling, somehow. I wasn’t disturbed but… it didn’t feel… great…?
There are many theories based on interpreting dreams, but there are also many theories that claim our dreams have no meaning.
Dreaming about a wedding has interpretations that include:
“…symbolizing a new beginning or transition in your current life… often negative and highlight some anxiety or fear. It often refers to feelings of bitterness, sorrow, or death. Alternatively, wedding dreams reflect your issues about commitment and independence.”
Or:
“To dream that you are planning your own wedding to someone you never met, is a metaphor symbolizing the union of your masculine and feminine side. It represents a transitional phase where you are seeking some sort of balance between your aggressive side and emotional side.”
Taking such interpretations from Dreammoods.com, I choose option ‘C’ and assume dreams have no real meaning.
On the other hand... I know exactly what song she’s talking about and won’t be able to listen to it again. Specific songs, according to Dreammoods.com, are interpreted to mean:
“…that you are looking at things from a spiritual viewpoint. Your future path is a happy one with good health and much wealth. Consider the words to the song that you are dreaming about for additional messages.”
I guess that’s something to look forward to experiencing.
Do you know what song I'm talking about? She does.
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