Whoop whoop.

You would not believe how busy I've been.
Or hey, you might.

Anyway, the moral to this story is that I finished my first quarter of med school (and I passed everything, by the way, an incredible victory in and of itself.) and then I was still stuck in Go-Go-Go mode for awhile. I was so burned out, too, that everything besides studying seemed like a terrible waste of time (including Christmas) and so I did what any reasonable person would do to get over the funk.

I made candy- loads of candy, chocolate turtles, caramel, and toffee. I went to holiday parties. I slept for an entire week straight, and then I flew to Denver to party my arse off with a dear friend for three nights, while we saw all of the best attractions of the town in the three days. I made a Christmas countdown calender, which my husband filled with tiny surprises. I bought more mistletoe than one should ever have in the house. I decided to have a New Year's party, which appears to be slowly spiraling out in to merry chaos. I have chestnuts to roast on an open fire, although here in the northwest, jack frost appears to be MIA (what kind of region gets a 0-20% chance of snow on christmas? LAME)

So my funk is gone, but I appear to have contracted whooping cough or a really nasty cold. It's pretty ridiculous. I'm running around in a bathrobe, my hair hasn't been brushed in three days, every thirty seconds I stop for a coughing fit that makes me see stars and whoop for breath, as I'm plugging in the tree and watching old movies and writing out all my holiday cards. This seems to correspond with the only down time I had planned for myself (though I missed two parties yesterday, for the solstice.)
I guess my body's had enough of busy.

That's ok! I'm a med student! I've been taking hot baths and cold rinses, putting ice cold wet socks on before bed (to drain the head congestion) taking vitamin C, eating horseradish and sri racha sauce to drain my sinuses, and practically floating on the volume of water and tea that I've been drinking. It's the best opportunity to practice what I've learned since I've learned it. I'm going to help my body recover so quickly, traditional Christmas Eve pinochle is going to be a win for my team (whoever I end up playing with.)  And really, I'm enjoying the rest, even if it comes with some hacking and a giant sinus headache.

To all a great fever, and a hacking rest ; )

Scrooge

I'm having trouble justifying some of the Christmas Spirit these days. With consumerism more rampant than goodwill, I feel like my favorite holiday is getting a bit...tainted.

It killed my soul a little to see Christmas goods on the same shelves as Halloween decorations.  The music starts too early, and it's just not special anymore. Anyone can tell you that when you start doing something every day, it ceases to be a treat and becomes a routine. I love routines, don't get me wrong, routines shove me through the day. Treats, on the other hand, are breaks from the routine. They are the whimsy that allows us to go off track for a while, knowing that eventually routine will get us back on track.

So now it's December 1st, the day I traditionally give myself the treat of putting up all manner of decoration and turning on that holiday music station for the first time, and I'm totally apathetic towards the whole production. I've been seeing the decorations and hearing the music for months now, outside of my home. My nativity scene is still in its zip lock baggie, in the bottom cabinet. The ornaments are beside the dryer, with the exception of the one ball that my cats managed to play with all year. I'm still listening to radiohead, mudvayne, disturbed, rhianna, three days grace, debussy, a perfect circle and all of the other artists that are on my every day play lists.

Then there's the whole issue of a tree. Do I, as a human, have a right to go kill a tree, just to have it die slowly in my house for no practical purpose? There's no symbiosis there. Not to mention, heating the house is expensive enough. I don't need to add 30 more strands of light to my electric bill (which would metaphorically kill more salmon, since the electricity is from the dam). On the other side, I know the trees are raised without the space to grow into the forest that they'd like to be, and a lot of great charitable groups really depend on the sales for their fundraisers...I just can't justify killing a tree right now. I can't justify the whole ritual of getting into the holidays right now.

I'm feeling pretty scrooge-y, now that the snow's gone and finals are upon me.
How do you get into the holiday spirit?

self esteem boost

Just some fun facts-
Many of you know that my gift to myself for my 23rd birthday was a year to get healthy. We're officially 2 months from that promise, and in those 2 months I have:
-gone to the clinic 5 times
-had my blood drawn 3 times
-started a regimen of ten supplements
-modified my diet so that it not longer contains grain of any sort nor any refined sugar
-cut back to three (alcoholic) drinks a week (if that)
-started drinking  at least 64 ounces of water a day, trying to drink 72 oz.
-started doing at least 30 minutes of yoga a day
-started meditating at least 10 minutes a day
-grown 4.5 inches
-lost 6.5 pounds
-lost 5 inches off my waist
-lost 3 inches off my hips.

And I feel pretty fabulous. More work to do, but hurrah for me!

chinese astrology

Let's face it, I'm a sucker for anything that tells me about me. I like hearing about myself.
and Everyone likes categories, though categories are not always useful for actually describing a unique thing (as proven by "Women, Fire and Dangerous Things: What categories reveal about the mind" by George Lakoff)
So in the interest of hearing (reading?) about myself, I've been looking at Chinese Astrology and thought I would share my categories with the world. (ahh, internet.)
I was born in 1987, which is part of the Fire cycle, in the Rabbit month. My secret animal, corresponding to birth hour, is the Horse.

Now, the internet doesn't have a lot of consensus about specific traits, but it does have a pretty common general picture of what this looks like. I'm pretty much cherry picking the parts I like and resonate with. In general, as a mix, I rather agree with my horoscopes. Add in the Libra trait of needing everything to be balanced to the eastern philosophy and I feel pretty described.

First of all, Fire.

Fire rules the heart and introduces the qualities of stubborness, strength, restlessness, dynamics, and a sense of peacefulness to the person. "A fire person will be passionate and powerful, with a flair for adventure." The planet mars, summer, and the direction of south are associated with fire, as is the color red.
Tying this to Indian philosophy and chakras, red is represented by the muladhara, or the root chakra. Centered on the perineum, the key physical governance is sexuality. The key mental point is stability, the key emotional point is sensuality, and the key spiritual point is a sense of security

Horses.... expect a lot of liberty, as well as give it. Horse people are independent, confident, quickwitted, inquinsitive, and stubborn (oh no, a double dose of stubborn!) We're good at recognizing patterns, generally gifted, and excellent at working the system. Horse people love to be the center of attention, are easily flattered, and are full of honesty and genuine warmth. (like a social butterfly )
People confide in horses, though we're terrible secret keepers as a point of personality function. We're easily excited and inspired, too impulsive for our own good, and bad at finishing projects. We're riddled with doubt beneath our confidence and persuasion.

Rabbit traits, on the other hand, are what lend me my depth and balance as a person.
Rabbits are pretty reserved, too sensitive for the world around them, and anxious when taking risks. (we're prey, after all) We're cultured, well mannered, graceful, and intellectual. We tend to den up, saving peace for home. Rabbit people are incredibly detail oriented in everything from decoration, presentation, work, play, and...otherwise. When we believe in something, we're "serious, persevering, and capable." It's hard to provoke us, and we're genuinely interested and moved with empathy when we hear your personal problems. We love to be hospitable and attentive, and to take care of those around us.

Libras are good at impartial judgment, but bad at handling criticism. We find the truth and then have a hard time seeing the world any other way. Generally, we're even tempered and balanced. We're usually optimistic, good at seeing the emotional needs of others, and are incredibly social beings (double social butterfly!) We hate cruelty, viciousness, and conflict because we see the world and everything in it whole and in unity. We're artistic, but not avant garde. We're full of integrity and good perceptions and observations. We may be promiscuously minded, but Libra marriages tend to last and be solid. We're insatiably curious, in love with elegance, and in need of depth.

Summing it all up, I'm a delicate, detail oriented, powerful prey animal with a double dose of stubborn and stubborn. I don't always finish my projects, but when I really believe in something- I can't be stopped. I believe in social and economic freedom strongly, am quick witted, intelligent, and incredible at working the system to get what I want. I love taking care of people, because I really love people and understand most of them pretty well. I'm honest, my spirit is broken easily, and I doubt myself a lot. I'm confident, independent, creative and overwhelmed by the world. I hate cruelty, I'm not a killer, and I don't wander in love. I'm not a risk taker, but I am an adventurer. I enjoy being the center of attention. I crave balance in all things. I'm sensual, grounded, and see patterns easily. I love elegant things and artistic endeavors  I'm a summer child, full of strength and peace, and I follow my heart in all things.

Sounds pretty much like how I see myself. Do you see me the same way?

(not so scholarly) references
http://www.colours-of-the-rainbow.com/chinese-zodiac-signs.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chakra#Muladhara:_The_Base_Chakra
http://www.astrology-online.com/libra.htm

Take Care of Yourself

Cuz you're the only person who will.
It is officially Self-Care month, with special Self-Care week going on at school right now. I know Self-Care sounds incredibly jargon-y. It's full of buzzword connotations, visions of Divas and weird sensations. Yet, somewhere in there, beneath all of the psychology and the pressure, is an incredibly important concept.
I think that we as a culture are stuck on a disposable phenomena. Allopathic medicine supports this fully- with little thought to preventative care, we are all about disposing of pathology displaying organs. Don't believe me? Do you have your tonsils? Do you know someone missing an appendix? a gallbladder?
We use, use, use until pieces of ourselves can't cope anymore. Then we cut them out and throw them away. Sometimes we pretend we're really complicated machines, and we replace those parts with replaceable parts, like pacemakers and colostomy bags.

Recycling is great, don't get me wrong. I'm just rather attached to my bits. I'd like them to work, and function well. I'd like to take pressure off my body by de-stressing my mind. All the physician, heal thyself jazz...

So without further ado- my top ten ways that help me feel good about living the life I do.


10. I go to the clinic and to the counseling center on a regular basis for advice, which I follow pretty well, even when I have to do uncomfortable and hard lifestyle changes.

9. I make healthy choices in food, even when I would pretty much kill someone for a chocolate bar and some pie.

8. I make a point to give myself at least an hour every day to do something I want to do, like reading a book or watching TV.

7. I try to fit in at least 20 minutes of yoga a day.

6. I meditate every day.

5. I dream big dreams, and I don't ever shoot them down for being implausible.

4. I do my best to feel beautiful every day, whether that's in exfoliating my knees, taking a bath, or spending an hour on my hair. It's the little things that count.

3. I spend ten minutes a day making sure some part of my house is clean

2. I spend time with my husband, even if all we have is a few shared moments of looking for a name tag, or the only moments I get are watching him sleep and cooking him a lunch packed with love.

1. I love myself. Purposefully and intentionally, even when I feel like a jerk or when I fail midterms. I sit down before I sleep, and I find something about myself that I'm proud of, some line in my face that I think is adorable, some thought pattern that I think is good. I used to have to work really hard at this practice. These days it's a little easier (usually) and I find it spills over into just about every other thing on this list. When you love yourself, it's easier to feel beautiful, to decide that you're worth a clean bedroom, to take the time to make sure that you're doing ok physically and mentally.

"Good morning, murderers!"

More than 300 unique visitors! What an exciting number- I feel like maybe I'm helping someone. Somewhere. With...?

Anyways- Let me move on to more pressing issues.

Firstly, I am ready for thanksgiving break.
I've completed the final marathon of tests and preparation before the finals kick in, and I'm honestly ready to crash for a while. I'm blessed to be able to attend the Naturopathic Gathering to kick off the break. After three blissful days of concentrated philosophy, I will be able to stay with friends who I rarely get to see, and then I intend to swing back by my alma mater and practice with whomever I can talk into filling out patient sheets. One of the major disadvantages of attending a school of 80% women is that I rarely get male patient practice. I'm really looking forward to some solid and excellent practice time, as well as just the joy of seeing old friends.
And a week off. Did I mention, a week off?
A week where I'm not memorizing 30 some odd pages of medical facts...lovely! I can hardly wait!

Secondly, I'm going to learn how to snowboard. Soon.
Living in the Pacific Northwest, I really have no excuse for not already knowing how to do this. This year I'm going to bite the bullet, put my adventurous pants on, and go explore new frontiers in the snow covered world! I was surprised at how affordable it is to get a lesson and a lift ticket, and rent equipment. I suppose the expensive part of the hobby is getting your own equipment. And snow clothes suitable for physical activity. I have nothing really useful for falling at high velocity down a hill. 
I'm so excited!

Thirdly, have I mentioned I'm (still!) growing?
It's a little ludicrous, but I kinda like it. It gives me all sorts of excuses- like, "I'm tired, I'm going to go sleep for 14 hours. It's ok, I'm growing." Granted, it's a little hard to pull this off and go to med school at the same time. I'm managing so far, though midterms were a bit killer for me.
On an unrelated note- I've noticed a gradient of how much worse it can get. The second years look at us first years and say "oh, just you wait" while I look at undergrad complaining and think "Wow, I wish I had that little to do." Everything is so much more of a crisis when you're actually in the situation. I'm glad that at some point, I'll be able to look at this whole experience and say that it was so much easier back in my first/second/ ect. years. I hear it's easier when you're not prepping for a test every day, but I think that having someone's actual life and well being as my responsibility may make it harder yet. On yet another unrelated note- Scrubs is so close to real life it's scary. <3 wonderful sitcoms.

The moral of the story today is: take a break. Try something new. Realize that right now is the easiest it's going to get, and be inspired by that. And then go watch some scrubs.

Just Keep Swimming!

I've always been that kid. You know the one, with the mostly straight A's and the glasses that never really tries very hard? Whizzing through genetics and Latin American history with the complaint of being bored...Partying on Wednesdays for lack of something better to do...capable of cleaning the house, working three jobs, and going to class on the same day.
Well, midterms are over here at med school.
For the first time in my life, I failed something.
Two somethings, really.
And what gets me is that when I went back in to talk to the professors, I really knew what was going on- I just didn't test well for it.

How do you solve that? I've never been in that situation ever before in my life. I lost my weekends to homework, my social life to studying, and now I have to figure out testing.
I'm at a near-pass, and  I've got three more chances to bring it up to pass or I'll have to remediate.
I guess the moral of the story is that not only do you never stop learning- you never stop being tested either, and that there will always be more challenges on the path.
Just because you're chosen for something doesn't mean the path will be easy. Anything worth having is worth fighting for, studying for, losing sleep over, and testing well on.

And on that note, I have some extra studying to do.

ogres, onions and cakes: the biochemistry saga.

           Do you remember, way back in Biology 141 or 142 or whenever the biology started to look a little bit more like chemistry, how your teacher made you learn the krebs cycle and glycolysis?
Oh sure, then it was like murdering small pieces of your soul to learn something that you felt you would never need again. There were things like ATP production and a myriad of floating, seemingly unrelated NAD+ molecules.
           Fast forward 5 years (or 4 years, if you were a music major and came into the department a bit late) and shit just got real.  I'm quaking in my coach slippers (well, I wish I had boots) anticipating the krebs cycle that is about to begin with a vengeance. The thing is, I know I learned glycolysis and the krebs cycle. I can picture my undergrad teacher drawing the whole damn thing out on the board. But then graduate level biochem starts and you learn one general thing about undergrad-
Your teachers lied to you.

Mostly lies of omission.

          But that three step introduction to the cycle that glycolysis was made out to be is a chain of intermediates and enzymes so complex that it's regulated by two different enzymes and a bunch of small molecules. There's still glucose and pyruvate in it, but now glucose is transformed into glucose-6-phosphate, to fructose-6-phosphate, to fructose-1,6-phosphate, to both dihydroxyacetone phosphate and glyceraldehyde -3-phosphate, to 1,3-bisphosphoglycerate,  to 3-phosphoglycerate, to 2-phosphoglycerate, to phosphoenolpyruvate, and ending with pyruvate. Each with its own enzyme, naturally.
         And now I'm learning that pyruvate can really go to a whole bunch of different pathways, not just to glycolysis, and that your body produces its weight in ATP each day.


        I'm thinking that oversimplification may be the next deadliest thing to indecision. The false overconfidence, wilting class by class as you realize again that you don't know jack, feels a little bit like betrayal.

        Here's the craziest thing about it- my undergrad teachers were Amazing. (lies and all.) I'm constantly rechecking my notes from 1,2, and 3 years ago to clarify what my teachers are saying now, and I'm honestly a little appalled at both the stories of teachers my classmates had and some of the teachers I have now.

        I wish I could go back to those classes and point out which physics equations are indispensable , which hours here and there to learn with eagle-like scrutiny, to videotape the cardiac cycle lecture so I could put it on youtube and watch it over and over and over again.

        My take home message today has three parts:
                 one- Thank you, amazing teachers who laid down that foundation with integration for different learning styles.
                 two- pay attention in class. You never know what you're going to curse not learning the first time around.
                three- learning is like ogres and onions and cakes....there's always another layer, even when you think you *really* understand something.

Entrance Essays

It's about that time of year again, when all the student of the world are scrambling to turn in their essays and praying that the grad school of their choice will call on them. I remember shaking in my boots as I took my essays to my department adviser, my anatomy professor, my boss, my chaplain and my mom, seeking revision and hoping for the best.
They turned out pretty good, and I made it into my number one choice school, so I thought I'd share them and the questions they answered today.

1. Please tell us how your experiences, background, abilities, interests, and/or hardships you have to overcome make you a good candidate for NCNM.

The principle rule of fine serving is to do so quietly and without intrusion, as if all food was being placed by some sort of cheerful magic just below the guest’s nose.  Blending in with the walls is an essential skill in catering, as is listening to general sweeping conversation and paying attention to small gestures and changes in a guest’s posture so that necessary elements can appear before they are asked for. Being both a creative cook and a dancer helps extra plates make their way through a crowded room without disturbing a crowd. Endurance is a must for those all day events where people expect a fully served breakfast, lunch, dinner, and cocktail hour and when everybody else has contracted Fridayitis.

Though sometimes my job has been too stressful, (like spring breaks where I’ve worked for seventy hours, wrote a 15 page paper, and studied for an organic chemistry test) through it I have assimilated a lot of vital skills that I feel will give me a distinct advantage as a naturopathy student.

One of my job provided skills is that I already know how to be a public servant. I know how to talk to people to lead them to a solution without offending the mayor, and how to make things run smoothly on the outside when, internally, the plans haven’t gotten here yet, the food is late, and the rest of  the staff hasn’t shown up.  I can ask questions, but I can also learn from observing the situation. I’m detail oriented,and I have more organizational skill than many can shake a stick at.

As a servant, I’m not bothered by doing the lowest jobs that often bother other people. I know that these jobs contribute just as much to the overall impression as the bigger jobs do.  I’ve also learned how to deal graciously and kindly with people who are hungry, high maintenance and tired while I am doing those dirty jobs- and moreover, I’ve taught other people how to do the same. Being part of a team has shown me the best parts of supportive following and also of leading by example.

I’ve come this far as an undergraduate while holding anywhere from one to three part time jobs. I pursue all of my goals with focus and care to their completion.  I work until I’m tired, and then I work some more till the job is done. Then I go home and do my own dishes and feed the cats because responsibilities never just take care of themselves.

As part of my journey, I have also learned balance and selfcare. In those long days of served meals, there are plenty of times when everything that can be done is done, and I’ve learned to wait. I know when to sit down and have a ten minute cup of tea, and when it’s time to go see a counselor to make sure that I’m staying centered and focused as a person. I know when to pay attention to something as silly as making sure that all of my co-workers have preposterous hats and a secret cupboard of candy for those rough days. I can sit quietly and breathe, even when the world devolves into chaos in the periphery.

 I am fierce, but I am wise, and I know myself.  I am enthusiastic, philosophic, and excited for this next frontier in expanding my knowledge so that I can be a better public servant, with more opportunities and influence.  I enjoy taking care of people, and I want to have a more active role in this process.

2. What led to your decision to pursue a career in naturopathic medicine?

I didn't believe him that day, of course. My Anatomy and Physiology professor, (his name), had told me: "I know you've got your heart in the right place, but... you need to cut this animal crap and be a people doctor." I laughed at him that day, while I was sitting there on his ugly office couch. But I didn't forget being lectured about my "animal crap"- it landed too close to my heart.

I’d already learned that I couldn’t follow my childhood dream to be a veterinarian. When I was interning out at Northwest Trek: A Wildlife Park the summer before, the field vet had told me to euthanize a rabid squirrel with a broken leg because even an intern can’t screw up euthanasia. The very idea made me feel nauseous, even though I’d assisted with numerous necropsies and field procedures. The vet handed me the needle and told me what to look for in an aspiration of the heart while she gave the squirrel some anesthesia.  I got cold. I could feel my pulse in my eyeballs. And I backed out. I didn’t want to cause its fuzzy life that final harm. Yes, I knew it was dying, and I knew it would only suffer more, but I couldn’t kill it.  The newer intern took over for me, and was excited to be involved with the procedure. She put the needle in the squirrel’s heart and gave it a lethal dose.  I made my way outside and threw up. The whole concept made being a veterinarian completely unattainable- vets have to do euthanasia all the time. The only way to be a no-kill general vet is to have been in the field so long that I could afford to specialize.

At that point, I looked into the zoo keeping and the presentation keeping sides of Northwest Trek more seriously. There was a lot to love about the job- I loved feeding bananas to the moose and watching beavers for hours. I liked taking care of all of the animals, and making sure that all was normal in their fuzzy (or slimy) little lives. The only thing I didn’t like was feeling that I had lost a vital aspect of their care when my veterinary dreams crashed and burned. I felt like I’d lost my ability to truly help these animals have a better life, even though I was still involved with the observation, enrichment and maintenance aspects. I was very torn about my decision to focus on a purely care-taking career versus the healing career I had originally planned on.

While I was undecided, I took more classes and headed towards a general biology degree. I helped out at the Shelton Kitten Rescue, outside of town. I thought about squirrels, and the “is it really final harm, or final relief” debate. I remained convicted that it was a final harm, and I was still convinced that I was going into animal care when Steve gave me his “animal crap” lecture.

With the “people doctor” idea percolating in my brain, I started researching the process of becoming one. Then I kept looking. The idea resonated so much with what I believe in, and who I am, that I couldn’t quit looking. I looked at all of the big allopathic schools in the northwest, and didn’t feel like any of them fit me. When I found NCNM, I was astounded. Not only did it feel like home from the first time I set foot on campus, I’ve been driving past it every single time I’ve visited my parents for the last three and a half years.  Though my path to naturopathy has been convoluted, I feel that my urge to heal is best represented, ethically and socially, at NCNM.

      

3.       What exposure have you had to the philosophy and modalities of naturopathic medicine?

        No one was surprised when I came in bleeding. I was a careless child, and having fallen through a tire swing nearly entirely, but with my foot caught above and my back dragging below, was just another story that my pediatrician would smile and shake his head at. What was surprising was the elusive pain that I never recovered from, and the sudden onset of vertigo and fainting spells. I spent a lot of my childhood enduring MRI's, x-ray machines, CAT scans, braces, bed rest, or taking some cocktail of pills that had been prescribed mostly to show that something was being done.

        Bouncing from specialist to specialist, I learned a lot of things about the medical field that weren't necessarily endearing. I learned that no one has time to explain what they're looking for to a child, and that when in doubt, anti-psychotics are a good resort. I learned that no matter how many times I'd explained my story to a doctor, no one would ever take the time to read the chart before they came into the examination room or believe me once they'd asked the same questions from the chart again.

        Learning the allopathic system made me a fairly cynical little kid. By the time I was 12, I'd seen so many doctors and specialists that I no longer counted on a diagnosis as much as I expected to be written off as an attention seeking lunatic. I quit taking the pills, because I felt better without the side effects. I learned to compensate for falling by standing next to walls, and I learned to never say anything about the pain that I was in because I hated (well, I still hate) being treated like an invalid.

Around that time I was hitting the middle of high school, and my mom extricated a promise to see one last specialist- an otolaryngologist named Dr. F. Owen Black.

        Dr. Black changed my world.

        He listened to me. He remembered me as a person from visit to visit, down to dumb things like prom and baseball. He looked at my symptoms, and instead of treating me for vertigo, he tested me for what caused my vertigo. He told me what he was looking for, and briefly explained what each test result meant; why he was ordering different tests. When he diagnosed me with endolymphatic hydrops, he put me in some of his NASA funded gravitation research equipment, and taught me how to see the world in a way that made standing up easier. He changed my diet so the falling wouldn't come as frequently, and gave me the cliff notes reason of why I would feel better. He referred me to a doctor who diagnosed me with fibromyalgia, and on my one year check up confirmed the diagnosis.

        During that one year check up I remember looking at the framed translation of the original Hippocratic Oath on the wall.  I realized that out of all the doctors I had ever seen, he was the only one who had the words " ...[I] will never do harm" on his examination room wall. He healed me, not only from falling down a lot, but from becoming completely cynical. He inspired within me hope that I could cope with my conditions, and that there was support out there. He made me feel like humanity itself cared about my wellness. He wasn't a naturopath, but he shaped who I will become by following naturopathic principles.

                        

So if you're stuck on your essays, or you're not sure how much creative license you can take with your questions, just follow your heart and write what you're really thinking about. Good luck, friends

Dreams of the Future

Today marks the one month survival point.
            It hardly seems like we've been there for a month, but I imagine the year will get longer as we push towards finals. Already, midterms and papers are starting to swarm like crows over a battlefield, and the once unilateral happiness and excitement is beginning to fade into exhaustion and the occasional breakdown. Overall, we're still happy- but we've become aware, once again, that this is a hard path.

             I've learned enough body work to assist with dozens of general and myofascial release points, and on occasion, I've really been able to help someone feel better. I can find bony landmarks in the upper quadrants on live people, and I've memorized all the names of all the bones and the brachial plexus. I've presented a small lecture on the difference between spinal nerves and peripheral nerves to my classmates, and have been introduced to the biochemistry of bulimia, thrombosis, and hepatitis, with mixed success. I've read as history burned my forebears at the stake for healing people, and read about the  legal persecution of the fathers of hydrotherapy as well as the licensing battles of today. I learned about a nun who learned to use herbs in a vision from God, who healed one pope and was excommunicated for doing so by another, and of a monk whose commitment to transforming the lives of his parishioners led to church reprimands and the founding of one of the original spa towns.

            We will continue onwards, through pathology and pharmacology and radio imaging, taking our hard science lumps with the sweet refreshment of herbology, hydrotherapy, philosophy, and somatic reeducation. The progression will be fulfilling and exciting. The very air around us is charged with change, as ND's have obtained full primary care physician-ship in Oregon with DEA numbers and full prescriptive powers. We have a dream- a dream that one day, everyone will have access to holistic medicine. A dream of health and of happiness, of building and of educating, of healing, and of being healed.


             The next four years are going to be AWESOME.

           

Birthdays are Serious Business.

I'm pretty serious about birthdays.
Actually, I'm serious about finding all the possible reasons to celebrate one day from the next.
We get lost in routines,  and we forget to celebrate the small things that make life so much more enjoyable because it's "not mature" or we "don't have time".
Birthdays are a perfect excuse to live it up.
And so, for my birthday, I dressed up like I was on the set of a glamor shoot. I put on my tiara and my pearls and my six inch heels and the silk and the lace and the likes.  It took me an extra hour to get ready, but I didn't mind. The first time I greeted the world, I was naked. These days I try to make a better impression.

I made myself a delicious, warm, healthy breakfast. I took an extra five minutes to make myself chai tea. I'm the only one who would, anyway- and it's important that we remember to treat ourselves like the special people that we are, when we can. The world is pretty much out to take us down a notch or two, and so often we forget to take care of ourselves. I also made up the bed and left a love note for my husband, because often we're also too busy to take care of those we love. It's so important, for all of us, to take at least one day of the year and remember who we want to be in even the littlest ways. 

I made a delicious and mostly wholesome lunch, substituting nutella for jelly  on my peanut butter sandwich. I packed my water bottle, and then a light load of school books , and then I threw in a new novel for fun because really, you can't study all the time and if there's a single day a year that you should not study- it's your birthday.  I'd rather spend the day seeing the world anew, sitting in the sunshine and laughing with friends.

And so, when I wasn't in class- that's exactly what  I did. I read a book, talked to new friends, drank cappuccino, got a sunburn, and enjoyed the day. Fate conspired to make my life easier  in every direction I stepped, and so I faced no heavy traffic of dismaying  pop quizzes. I heard no bad news, was fortunate to hear  from old friends, and had a cupcake immediately upon returning to my house.
Then my wonderful husband took me out to dinner at a fantastic restaurant, where we had a four course meal and a glass of wine. The restaurant gave me a birthday card, and drew a cake in melted chocolate on my dessert plate, and was just generally in the business of making my night special. 
My honey drew me a picture of a rose during his night shift, and then he presented me with a beautiful box. Inside that box was a white gold and sapphire necklace that he picked out to show his heart was born in September. (admit it, that made you go gushy inside too. I love that kid so much!)


and so, for him and for me, I'm giving myself a year to become the healthiest me that I can be.  It's going to be a great year (and not just because 23 adds together to be 5, and then the 2 adds again to be 7, and then that last 3 goes to 10 which is the twisted way my mind decides that adding once up odd and twice up even is lucky, and doubly so for adding to 7 and needing 3 for the even).

I challenge all of you to have just as great of a year. Pursue your goals, live your dreams, and love as much as you can everyday. Here's to living it up!

Veggies vs. French Fries

The New York Times ran an article today highlighting the fact that people aren't eating enough vegetables. The final words stated "Eating vegetables is a lot less fun than eating flavor-blasted Doritos".
The basic main points were that people don't know how to cook vegetables, they're less convenient to have around, and they cost more.
Now, this article appeared in the Money and Policy section.
Despite that, I was surprised at how much emphasis remained on choice. The vegetable issue is less a matter of choice and more a matter of cost.
For instance- do you want that 10$ tasty salad that you can have once, or do you want the three frozen pizzas that you can get for the same 10$ and eat for six meals, if you're thrifty?
Is that really even a choice for the bottom of the market?
Most of the people I know prefer eating every day. For poor people, that means budgeting out each meal, and attempting to make sure each meal is filling enough to last till the next meal. While a really nice salad with lots of greens and tomatoes and sunflower seed and all that jazz is delicious, it's not really a "stick to the ribs" or "feel stuffed" sort of meal.
Supposing the market was to award a poor family with all the vegetables that they could eat- the consumption would still be low. Why? These people work for a living. Who has time to saute down the zucchini when they're trying to work two jobs and if they're late one more time, no one will take care of their sick mother's hospital bills? Who can flip through a (more than likely over 60$ anyway) cookbook to make tasty decisions when they're working the night shift and going to school full time?
After working a 16 hour day, is it easier to go to McDonalds, or is it easier to go to the grocery store, pick up fresh produce, and then go home and cook for an hour ?

There are three things that poor people often do not have when it comes to vegetables.
1. access to organic, wholesome, and delicious vegetables.
2. training to turn those vegetables into great food
3. time to make great food out of vegetables.

You want more people to eat vegetables? Reform the economic market. Let people earn an honest wage for an honest day's work, and let vegetables be reasonably priced. Release the grip of convenience as a nation, and let people have evenings off to see their families, or as in some european countries- let them have a long enough break that they could go see their families and cook lunch. As well as the urban gardens and food stamps that work at farmer's markets, host cooking demonstrations with free serving size samples. Redistribute the wealth. It's not the lack of vegetables that's killing us. It's the social class gap.

Stayin' Alive

I have survived the first week of medical school.
And really, after that first day, I've thrived at medical school. I love biochemistry and musculoskeletal anatomy. I love looking at someone and thinking "Wow, those deltoids are really defined. I wonder if they'd let me try to find the insertion point."  I've enjoyed the case studies and the extra homework and I've really fallen in love with body work. 

I don't get lost on the way to school anymore, and I got my parking pass today so that I don't have to worry about coordinating the 2-hour-long-5-transfer-quickest-mass-transportation-route home after my latest class.

My classmates know me as "the wolverine girl" which is quite likely the most awesome nickname I've ever had. These are my people. We're already like a huge family, and I love my section mates. We have such a variety of people! From hawiian botanists to mayan archeologists to broadway actresses,  there's so many strengths represented.

<3

(Also, I got my financial aid check. cha Ching!)

Day Two: the light breaking through the hills.

I arrived early to meet my mentor, who graciously provided me with one of the books that I needed but couldn't afford, and then I strolled over to the bookstore and bought a coloring book. I studied for around 4 hours in the morning, and then went to Organ Systems 1 for the first time.

I don't think I took a single note. Not only did I know everything in the first lecture, I knew it in more depth than the instructor was covering. Looking at the syllabus, I think this trend may continue for a couple weeks. Just a guess, of course, but at least I don't have to break my mind studying for this class so far.

After Organ Systems I had Somatic Re-Education, which you may have heard of as Orthobionomy. It's a very subtle body work that serves to draw the body's attention to any patterns it may be holding, then it works to exaggerate the pattern for a few seconds. The exaggeration of the pattern serves as a message to the body saying "Hey, will you look at this? Do you want this?" and then the body has the chance to preserve the pattern, which is a protective mechanism, or to  release the pattern. Sort of a "Oh hey, we're done with that. Not sure why that was still on" thing.
I need people to practice on, by the way. At least two people, but I have to turn in four patient case sheets, so four would be better.

It was really nice to do something so hands on, and over the course of the class, my neck felt way better, my arms became the same length, and I had some major GI tract tension release that the teacher actually had to do so that my fellow student could work on our general release pattern.

We all hold more tension than we need to, held in the memories of our every day lives. That millisecond whiplash becomes a protective mechanism, as the body holds onto the shock and begins protective measures which hold some muscles taught (so that your head doesn't fall off!) and other muscles slack. Sometimes that pattern will hold far beyond the danger of your head falling off , and then the pattern becomes "normal". Then, what I would do is observe the pattern- say, anterior flexion in the neck- and then I would help your body exaggerate the comfort that it finds in that pattern. I would help flex your neck even more. On the way out of the pattern, the body has a chance to say "wait a minute, I'm not in danger of having my head fall off. I can let go of this" or a chance to say "I'm still in danger of my head falling off, this is protecting me."
The best thing is that even legislators have recognized the medicine in that there is no license to practice this method because it does not cause injury. There are zero reports of this method making people worse. The worst it can do is nothing at all.

And so, day two was much, much better than day one. I feel much better about it. and I'm going to try to take the bus to school today.

The Way Med School Actually Starts- a firsthand encounter.

Day One...

Was a disaster. I'm really trying to think of it in theater axioms- crappy first day means good rest of the year? Better to suck now so I won't kill patients later? I don't know, but whatever was going on- the universe had it in for me.
Before the classwork even happened I
(a) got lost
(b) couldn't find a parking spot
(c) was in the wrong line for a financial aid check
(d) didn't get a financial aid check
(e) had to go to the financial aid office to find that the government has not bothered to release my entrance counseling to the school, so I can't afford books until next week after the government talks to financial aid and financial aid talks to the business office and the business office talks to the bank.
(f) got lost on the way to the bakery where I was going to do a midmorning snack and relaxation
(g) spilled my cappuchino after the first sip all over my book bag
and (h) got lost on the way back to school.

So I finally get to my first class, biochemistry, and I'm actually pretty stoked about that one. The teacher is nice and seems committed to student success, started with the basics and picked up from there. I'm going to have to study- I always get screwed up with pKa and pH, and that's a lot of the first pathway we're learning. I feel like undergrad has left me perfectly able to pick up and study from where I stopped in ochem. 12:30 to 3:30, but it didn't feel that long, and it'll be a good class.

Second class, same room, 3:30 to 5:30- Musculoskeletal Anatomy. Should be good at this, right? I've already taken a year of the class, already worked with cadavers and necropsies, already have the flash cards.
Wrong.
So, in undergrad, you learn all the bones. Sort of. Then you move on to the muscles. Then the organs, the nerves, etc. Very linear and sort of exclusionary, focusing on the specifics of whatever particular facet you're working with.
Today, I got flattened by the anatomy bus of doom. I need to relearn or learn for the first time all of the bones, fossa, bursae, tendons, muscles, nerves, and blood vessels of the upper limb. The teacher has already told us that we can read the slides ourselves, and that if we have trouble, we should grab a book. He sounds totally unconcerned by the fact that he taught us nothing, and gave us a clinical situation that we needed to solve despite not knowing the muscles, nerves, or conditions that would solve his clinical solution. He seems inflexible and unavailable.
When do I need to know this by?
Next Monday.
So- let me just re-emphasize: Muscles, bones, nerves, blood, and how they work together, and common problems of the shoulder, upper arm, and upper back. In a week. With no other classes beyond the one I had today. No set book.
What would I do if I had my summer again? Buy a medical grade anatomy textbook and start memorizing it.

Oh, and then on the way home? Some jackass wouldn't let me turn into the lane I needed to be in, forcing me onto the bridge over the river, and I got lost and ran out of gas.
Happy first day of medical school.

my calling

At this point, I am considered oriented for entry into the first year of medical school. I've been instructed as to procedure, applied for my parking pass, laughed with my fellow students, added elective credits and met with my adviser. I've contacted docs in my hometown to ask their advice on how my community education credits can serve me so that my community will be waiting for me to graduate.
I've talked to one of my heroes, eaten more soy protein than my body can handle, and signed up for extra health insurance. I mapped out my schedule in excel, printed a copy and mailed copies to family. I've set up my home office.

And really, the only thing left to do is walk into class on monday morning.

I am so excited.

Chassit

I am incredibly sad. I'm not sure that it counts as depression yet, though I've had an extreme decrease in appetite and in desire to go outside of my house.
Two nights ago I went with my mentor and another first year to hike mt. tabor. It was a fun walk, and that is not the part of the day that made me sad. In fact, referring to other people as "first years" kinda makes me feel like I'm a new student at Hogwarts. I got home, was feeling pretty good about the exercise and how I'd resisted a glorious concoction of berries and whipped cream, sat down to talk to my husband.....
And then...
We saw one of our cats outside of our glass patio door, looking incredibly pleased with herself and asking to come back inside. Discovering that one of the kitchen window screens had been popped out, we searched for our other cat.

He was not in the house.

He was not under the house, which is his typical go-to out of doors spot.

And now, it's 36 hours later, and he is still missing. I've called the county shelter (which is closed for labor day weekend) and put up flyers on the mailboxes and the garbage enclosure. I've put an ad on the craigslist lost and found. I've enlisted the local neighborhood kids in the search, and my husband has crawled through slime and swam through blackberries as I've cajoled and shook treat jars.

So, if you see a black and brown tortoiseshell cat, medium long fur length, neutered male, with tattooed ears reading "KRC 147", wearing a red and brown plaid harness, please call me or email me or leave me a comment or bring him home.

Every time I try to upload a picture of him to the blog it crashes my firefox for a few hours, so contact me and I'll mail you a picture.

I try not to be so upset. Everyone says "It's just a cat" or "He'll come back, he's just out skittering around" but it's My cat, my lap cat who's dumber than a box of rocks and sweeter than a box of candy.

I just want him back.

5 Inch Heels

I'm inspired by the similar situation and imagery of one of my good college friends, in her post of aubergine. (which, when I looked it up in the dictionary, is a dark purplish color such as the color of eggplant, or can be used as jargon to refer to the presence of a computer near computerphobic people. I learn something new every day.)

Anyways.

5 inch heels require that you ignore reality. It's not about the cobble stones or the carpet that you're walking on. It's about the stride, the balance, and really- the sensitivity of your feet. All of which is going on in your brain, within yourself. To wear these pillars of self confidence, you have to be confident in yourself. You know you can rock these heels, and you're out, not to show the world that you can rock these shoes, but to walk on the clouds.

(My favorite shoes- Hide N Seek by Chinese Laundry)

Your stride grows longer at a walk, shorter at a run, feeling with every movement the delicate balance of heel to toes, ankle to body, body to neck, neck to the top of your head. You are God's marionette, on a string suspended from the heavens themselves. You are aware, while you wear these shoes, of the muscles and ligaments suspending you in your perpetual controlled fall towards your destination.

With every meter of progress, you allow yourself to experience the now as you've never felt it before. Each second, the nerves of your foot communicate with you to explain the tilt of the earth, the feeling of the air around you, the pebbles that you would (in your tennis shoes) pass not a second thought on. Crushed, wet grass becomes exquisite in a way that you've never experienced before. Smooth linoleum announces your presence from miles away.

So when we wobble, we're really just reaffirming our self exploration on whatever journey we've begun. The ankle slides mildly from side to side, and our eyes grow wide as we re-realize exactly where we are, and how far we have yet to go....but it's a good thing. Because then, at that moment of discord, we recollect ourselves and start again, head up and facing everything coming our way, ankles straight, calves strong, bodies beautiful, minds aware, totally aware, of just how far we've come.

So, yes. things are new. We're in new cities, doing new things with new people. But I'm not afraid, because I have my 5 inch heels telling me that just now, in this moment, we're doing alright, that we've come so very far and we have a long ways to go, too- but we're ok and just taking it one lacy, strappy, spindle thin, satiny, glorious step at a time.

Mental Load

"...New Student Orientation...will be a healthy balance of practical and fun."

-Office of Student Services 

I think anticipation really is killing me.
When I made it into med school, I screamed. Bubbling over with enthusiasm, I couldn't wait to go to class and learn what it is to be a healthy human being. The knowledge of going somewhere else floated me through the rest of senior year, and reassured my otherwise planless existence.
Now, basically three months from the beginning of summer, I'm terrified of everything.
I already knew I was going to be young for this school. Now I'm pretty certain that I'm the youngest. All of my fellow entering classmates will, on average, be about 9 years older than I and also hold at least one more advanced degree, if not several more advanced degrees.  It also sounds like many won't have to work their way through school, are generally in better fitness than I am, and have more general skills than I do. Also, they can afford to live closer to the school than I can.
To top it off, all students are expected to be available for classes Monday through Friday from 7am to 5pm or 7pm. Oh, goodness. What have I gotten myself into? Can I even survive it?
Orientation starts on September 7th, and I wish it was here already. I am tired of tormenting myself with all of these maybes and mightbes and pleasedeargodnobes. I know I can do this, I just need to stop thinking about it so much.

Augh.

Humanities majors vs. Scientific derision

Today the New York Times published an article detailing one medical school's decision to allow non-science majors to be admitted. (article here )
Many of my colleagues and school friends are upset by this decision, and I'm not sure why. Medicine, while adhering to some rules of science, is not as hard and fast as any other science. It is an art, as we've all heard before, that adage coming from the inability to fix rules on the ever changing and unique human being.

I was a biology major and I can testify that hard science gets people stuck in a rut. They expect the same thing to work for the same problem over and over, that the same lab procedures should work for the same experiences. These are not unfounded beliefs, but they only work in an artificial environment. People won't start behaving "average" just because scientifically minded people are examining them.

While Mount Sinai medical school is the first to do away with the scientific pre-reqs entirely, the well rounded physician has been a goal for many years, and the idea that humanities majors (while having the science requirements and taking the MCAT) are more compassionate and flexible doctors has been out there for a while.

The game is changing, folks. While it takes a specific kind of mind to handle the rough sciences, other majors are not "dumber" than the science majors. One only has to look at each major objectively to see that even the sciences manage to graduate at least one dumbass with no social skills every year, usually because of that jerkwad's parent's pockets. (Those of you who took senior seminar with me probably know who I'm talking about, for our class.)
Some of the smartest people I know are religious studies majors, english majors, and music majors. They are just as driven, and often spend just as much time on homework as "us science majors".
And as for the MCAT, well...
The MCAT itself is merely an economic barrier designed to eliminate those who can't afford preparatory courses and those who have trouble with standardized testing. I personally did not take it, and I don't feel like I missed out at all, granted that I was accepted to my number one choice medical school without it.

Why should it be a big deal, that the field is opening to compassionate and qualified applicants? Are you worried?  Is the apprehension and derision just a mark of insecurity towards those who can pipette the hell out of organic chemistry, but can't write an essay to save their life?  We should welcome the insurge of well rounded applicants and trust that the rigors of pass/fail medical school standards will weed out the unsuited.

sans shoes.

I love to camp. I love the way that moss catches on fire, and the way that hot dogs bubble and crisp. I love wearing nothing but a swimsuit for days, and floating the same patch of river eleventy-billion times. I love learning new knots and leaves and foraging skills, and that exasperated last car trip in where you break down and buy some "Off" and a camp hatchet, and maybe three more chocolate bars.
There's something magical about the sense of community one develops when returned to the wild, the comfortable silence, the skittering field mice.
Waking up to dawn in the treetops and glitter on the water, I can relax and let go. I find peace and revel in it. Being unplugged and out of contact does wonders for becoming centered and refocusing on the things that really matter.

That being said, boy do I love showers. and the internet. and food that is not hot dogs. :)

heroes...

Medicine has always been a calling for me, albeit sometimes through music and most of the time I was sure I was going to be a veterinary doctor.
I've had a rather exciting, I suppose, or more like eventful and chilling experiences with illness throughout my life. When I was two, I got a staff infection in my thumb and had to have my thumbnail peeled off. The doctor told me "now, peanut, this isn't going to hurt." and I remember being offended, because peanut was the name of my grandparent's dog, before my dad told me "Don't listen to him, he's lying to you. This is going to hurt a lot, but then it's going to be ok." and so I learned to evaluate what doctors said to me in the reality and context of the situation.
My mom has always been ill, suffering from severe headaches and other complaints from as early as thirteen. Her scans have always come back negative, though she does have lesions on her brain. The lesions are apparently not in the right place. If they were in the appropriate ( ? ) place to have lesions, she would likely have been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. It's very slow moving, the remissions long and the relative period of sickness is a small portion of time. Doctors always told her she was crazy, so she was always on my side when the scans came back negative for me.
I fell off a tire swing when I was seven, and I never got better from that. Later on, I'd find the diagnosis of Fibromyalgia (yes, I've seen the commercials, but I think they're dumb and shouldn't be on air) and of Endolymphatic Hydropsy.
I'd also learn, in the 11 years it took to get from onset to discovery, that doctors don't listen. They don't respect patients, and that they are so inundated with prescription sales that they will forget to treat patients. I learned that when doctors didn't know what was wrong, they didn't do research- they gave out anti-depressants and anti-psychotics. I learned that the system was broken.
But there are other ways, movements beyond traditional medical doctors. There is a vital force moving for preventative medicine and whole patient treatment. There is more on heaven and earth...
I found out about half a year ago that sometimes, when nothing comes back on my scans, it really means that I'm feeling someone else's pain. I'm a body empath, and I think more people are than realize it. Fortunately (or unfortunately) I only seem to catch the notions from the people I'm close to. My shoulder hurts when I think of this friend, my hip when I spend time with that one. My headaches are almost exclusively my mom's, and sometimes when they're the worst for me they start to ease up for her.
So here I am. Sitting up another night, waiting to hear my mom need me as she's crushed beneath a killer migraine. She's been crying off and on, all night, and her makeup is smeared, but for right now, she's resting. And I've been carrying wet washclothes from A to B and holding her hand, but other than that I'm just so damn helpless. There's so much more I'll be able to do after these four years, but right now I can only watch (and feel) everyone suffer.
I don't like being helpless, and I surely don't like losing to anything. I can't tell if I'm just so wrapped up in the situation that I can't see perspective, or if I'm really level headed. I just want to hero in and make things better. It's hard to remember that illness is a message when all I want to do is have some magical herb to administer, or some energy direction technique or something, anything,really.
I wish school started tomorrow.

terrible dreams

Last night I dreamed a terrible dream.
It was full of chaos, and spanned far more time than the hours that I slept. I went through elementary and high school in this dream, relived childhood free afternoons. I met the people that I know now, but instead of them being my husband's brother's friend, they were the kid down the street, previous coworkers becoming classmates. I rode my bike down quiet airplane hangers, chasing the other neighborhood girls through puberty.
And every single one of them died for me.
The bums that tried to steal my bike fell in the fire. My friends, each with their own tender moment, jumped to their deaths. I stood in the wreckage of the aircraft that I had been riding, and realized that I was alone. Then I realized, tangled in the fabric of the parachutes, that this friend had jumped to save my formal gowns. That friend had jumped with my books. Further down, my pets were safe and standing on a familiar cadaver. Every jump had decreased the burden of the plane, but it was all wrong. I wasn't the one worth saving.

and then I woke up.

omgponies.

I think that I've adjusted rather well to my temporary unemployment. I wake up to the birds singing, take the dog out to get the paper, and then, after a quick breakfast of cheerios, I go volunteer at the Kid's Connection ranch.
They're still teaching me a lot of the skills that I'll need to be useful, but as a somewhat adequately experienced animal handler, I assisted the visiting vet today by leading and holding 8 horses while they got their shots- from a Clydesdale sweetheart named Sierra to the wildborn three year old mustangs, Lakota and Cheyanne.  I've also gotten a lot better at riding, mainly on the above mentioned Sierra. Slowly, over the rest of the summer months, I'll be taking over more responsibility until I can hopefully work them sans helmet.
The purpose of the ranch is really neat- they exist as a non-profit organization that takes horses and pairs them with neglected children. Or goats, or chickens, or whatever level the kid is at. They have a playground, an organic garden, and really committed owners whose real goal is just to prove that a) there are really nice people out there, and b) all these kids can experience love.
Horses are used therapeutically in many situations, and there's not much that overwhelming support, a horse, and some love can't help.
What a great dream. I'm excited to continue contributing to this great cause

sustainability, an antonym for capitalism.

Already, the oil spill isn't on the front page. Can we really forget about this, so quickly?
I know that it'll be hard to transition off of oil. I can't afford a smart car and I'm currently commuting back and forth over a 162 mile stretch. But you can bet your bottom dollar that once I get somewhere that I can physically commute, I will. Or I'll get a horse. Then I'd get transportation AND fertilizer. BP has a lot of fertilizer too, but it's all metaphorical bullshit. Not useful for anything, not really.
I'm just so tired of all of this capitalistic machine. It works really well, for rich people. Too bad there aren't very many rich people.
I remember, I had this one friend. He was gorgeous and played the piano. He was sweet on me, a little bit, I think. But he had no idea what life was really like for real people. His parents get lots of time off, he never had to say "oh, I can't afford that", and he hasn't ever really had a job.
My family is a little bit more normal. Both my parents work, and they work hard to barely keep their finances afloat. My dad goes to hard, physical labor (with his diesel engineering degree) every day with two herniated disks in his back. My mom works a desk job, through a migraine she's had for nine months and a boss that continually adds to her workload (with no reward) because she's a good worker and gets it done. In twentyfour years, they've never had a vacation together that lasted for more than three days. I started working when I was twelve, doing under the table farm work to bring in a little extra money.
And we're the people who keep the country running. The mechanics and the truck drivers who deliver the fancy products to whomever it is that can afford it. We're the accountants that play by the rules and pay the right taxes. We're the people who get our pensions cut and take 15% pay cuts while these inglorious CEO's get their million dollar bonuses. We're the people that train the Vice- president's kid to do the job that he only got because of daddy's money, and then the people that have to put up with an incompetent boss. We're the people who bear all of the cost of the capitalistic function of society, and who reap none of the benefits. We don't own our houses, we're losing our jobs, we can't retire, we can't buy good food, we can't even regulate our government because we don't have the money to run against someone doing a terrible job that can take time off to campaign and to buy marketing analysts.
(At least we finally have health care, sort of...)
And we're losing hope. We're losing faith.
We're tired of corporations buying off the government. We're tired of shipping your products. We're tired of the continual inventory, of being nothing but numbers in your system, of having to look you in the eye while we serve you food that we can't eat. We're tired of your yacht races, of your ferraris and your private clubs.
And now, we're getting restless.
What you're doing to the world, to the people, to our minds- it's not sustainable.
We're going to have to change a few things.

tea parties!

I'm feeling rather productive today, with my orange and lavender apron and my half packed house attesting to success. I've got really delicious yellow cupcakes in the oven, that I intend to drape handmade caramel as icing onto.

I'm planning a tea party as a farewell to us, slightly before we'll be totally packed so that I can still wear a party dress and hopefully play croquet. It'll be nice to see my favorite park and my favorite people before we leave, and the weather looks as if it might be halfway tolerable.

It's been a nice few years up here

Someday, I'll be as brave as my face.

I have a touchy stomach, usually when I'm dealing with some form of rejection, or worried about the people I share lives with.
I get achey when I'm tired, and when I'm sad.
My neck hurts when I'm having trouble rationalizing my way out of an emotional response.
Life is messy, and it hurts. There's no manual, nobody ever has the same experience, and we're all so alone that it comes back together somehow.
Right now my body is telling me that I'm worried, sad, and irrational.
The more I listen to it, and straighten this new mess out now, the less I'll have problems in my emotional and physical life.
It's just so hard, sometimes. Sometimes letting yourself throw up for weeks is easier than figuring out why you feel that way. After all, we can treat nausea fairly easily. Give me some ginger, any day. Sorting out the cause is much harder. Changing your life to make the solution permanent is even harder.
How'm I supposed to solve self esteem issues, when I require constant praise and encouragement to have any at all? How'm I supposed to look abandonment issues in the eye, when everyone is so good at leaving me? How is it that I'll fix my viewpoint, while avoiding the pitfalls of blaming someone else or running away?

I have such a brave face.
I'm always telling people "everyone else is just as scared as you are".
I'm always advocating change and love.
I'm so damn sure of myself and my plans.

But really, where it counts, I just feel so lost and alone and broken and unsure of everything. and I hate it. wish everything could play along to my little imaginary rules that only I follow. wish that I could scream my way out of this corner, wish a million times that I was brave enough to follow my own advice.

That's not the point. Life is messy. It's supposed to hurt like this, sometimes.
The point is, tomorrow we get up again and we try harder.

List.

10 things that I've learned in the past couple weeks:

1. Ketchup becomes pressurized and explodes if you leave it on the oven while you cook meatloaf for a couple hours
2. The internet is more full of sketchy people than I ever imagined. Seriously, is this where we're at as a culture, globally?
3. Dreams are awesome. I should write them down more often. They can also be used to flush out symptoms from body awareness. 
4. Doctor Who is quite possibly the best TV show ever. I'm still torn between my loyalty to Scrubs. Both have an awful lot of life lessons in them, sneakylike.
5. I need to clean my house more often. We've come up with 5 sackfulls of garbage, and several more of things to be donated. This would be less of a chore if I went through everything every 3 months or so, instead of every couple years or so.
6. It's really draining to try to call everyone who needs calling. It's a lot more relaxing to just chill and wait for people to call me, and it seems like letting go of the responsibility to get people together gives me a lot more time to clean my house and cook meatloaf ; )
7. The Almanac says that it's supposed to feel like summer after the 8th. However, it also said that this last winter would be snowier than normal, and it didn't snow at all here. I question the validity of the Almanac, and wonder how they got to be the authoritative source on everything, anyways. 
8. I need to take better care of my body. I'm going to have it for a long time, and I haven't been managing it very well recently. I need to get over my dislike of the rain and just go do something active, or I need to stop eating cookies purely it's too rainy to do anything else.
9. I'm extremely dependent on my books being nearby. I can't believe how much stuff I thought I knew before I took all of my books down to my parent's garage and couldn't look anything up. 
10. The national conference for naturopathic medicine has a "creative black tie" dance at its conclusion. So. Stoked!

who could blame him, really?

I don't leave my hair down often.
The strands are long, too long, and they get pinned to seat backs or shut into doors. My locks get wrapped around stranger's hands and groped by the casual acquaintance. Magnetically pulling people in that wouldn't normally talk to me, the ropes glistening and beckoning. Even I get caught by my hair, sometimes, waking up with my tresses wrapped around my wrists or brushing the mane till it stands out like a halo of static electricity. When I turn my head fast enough, the friction between individual hairs sounds like a chorus of bells.
I left it down, tonight, straight and parted down the middle, smelling like honey and sunshine, before I went to see a friend tonight.
She went in to the back room, and he came running in for something; I forgot immediately what he'd been looking for when he wrapped his hands around my neck, cutting off air supply.
A second there, and my brain flooded me with awareness of the velvet of the couch, the soft light on the wall, the scent of burned french fries and cologne, the ballad playing in the background, the warmth of his hands.
Another second, and his hands were caught in my hair, pulling it back, doubling the strands around his fingers, pushing into my scalp, relieving the pressure and the tension in my neck. His eyes closed as his hands wrapped and pulled and fell into my hair. And then he was gone, as abruptly as he'd walked into the apartment.

I'm not sure if my hair just saved my life, or if leaving it down was asking for all of the beautifully wrong things in this world.

packing up

So far, everything I've packed is something that I've wanted to use. That's good, in a way- I definitely use everything I have.
I've packed:

• all our books, minus the ones with bookmarks in them
• our inflatable killer whales and other river floating items
• most of our camping gear
• all of my formal dresses
• half of my arts and crafts.

Today I plan to pack

• The closets, minus what we'll wear for the next three weeks
• all but 6 pairs of shoes
• the rest of my arts and crafts
• extra blankets

....and I'm going to take all of the art off of the walls.
Beyond that, it's mostly computer and kitchen stuff, then cleaning. I haven't much else to do though. Good for bursting full speed ahead, and for making a clean break of it, I suppose.