Graphing the Seasons

The changes of season can be marked by what I consume. In fact, you could draw a graph of the calendar year and it would look something like this:

Slurpees = summer.

Whiskey = winter

That doesn’t really look like a graph, but I assure you I have the original sketch right here on the back of a receipt for a cantaloupe. On my sketch I also included coffee as a line at the top of the receipt indicating all seasons. It is straight with only a few dotted-lined dips where I intended to cut back on consumption.

This graph is important because I can tell from it that summer is here. The city is sizzling and people are delirious on the east coast from the absence of avocados in their diet. The beach is nice. During one particular glorious day at the sea, I had a traumatic incident that gave me flashbacks to that summer in '98 when I was swarmed by bats.

No there were not bats at the beach. There were gulls. (Sea gulls they call them since they live at the sea.) These birds are scavengers. Vulture-gulls. Pre-historic pigs.
There I was, hot dog in hand. From behind swooped a rustle of wings. Then it was no longer a rustle. Feathers were flapping in my face. The slimy feet of those barbarians grazed my arm knocking that dog from my hand. The meat didn’t even touch the sand. They fought over the food mid-air, squawking at me “we’ve taken all you have”. I shrieked and stood paralyzed amongst the spectacle. I said to them “you jerks, you’ve taken all I have.” 

This is a picture I took of sea gulls eating fish carcass in Alaska.
Carnivores!
I changed their eyes to red laser eyes because I think they are actually robots controlled by vultures.

That's just the way it is.

So I'm into this whole grad school thing.
Mostly it is great. And mostly I pretend it is great.

Overall the word I will use to describe it is: SWELL. Because swell also means "to overflow" and that is what is happening.

I am just overflowing with knowledge.
And overflowing with knowledge leads to moments... nay days of being overwhelmed. There are a lot of "overs" happening here.

Overall.
Overflow.
Overwhelmed.
Overboard.
Overconfident.
Overdramatic.

And the point of all these "overs" is that grad school causes extremes.
Examples:

Extreme smartness: Once I had a casual conversation with a stranger about the medial lemniscus nerve tract and trigeminal nerve tract. And I knew what I was saying.

Extreme emotions: Once I cried because a song told me "don't let 'em jack you up, back you up, crack you up, and pimp smack you up". I'm doing my best sir!

Extreme procrastination: Dangling a string for Penny for an hour is often urgent.
And necessary.

Extreme addictions: Angry birds. I agree with Franny... I wanna wipe those smug smiles off those damn pigs faces.

Total Extreme Awesomeness

Extreme friendliness/abrasive eagerness: Just now I walked out of the coffee shop to shout across the street at a woman about what breed her dog was.
It was a chocolate lab.

Extreme walking: Often necessary.

Extreme awesomeness: This may just be another 'over"... the over being overconfident. But that's me in that picture up there. Roundhouse-kick to your face mr. shark. uhh... awesome.

News of the day: A man on a bus exclaims "I'm going to pop everyone on this bus... including the babies!"

Seriously dude.

This reminds me of all the absurd and riveting events I have seen or heard or been involved in while using the MBTA system. The following list (because lists are really neat and fun to make especially when procrastinating) includes a few notable instances:

- A man slowly plucking hairs off a woman's head. She had no clue it was happening.

- A woman slapping a man.

- A homeless man showing me magic card tricks on the bus. He thought it was a gift from God that he could perform real magic. He planned to use his gift to earn money for drugs. He held his finger to his lips and sneakily croaked "shhhhhhh don't tell".

- A man who was blind in his right eye and fancied whiskey.

- A girl puking everywhere.

- A man who I thought was about to puke everywhere but then I realized he was just exhibiting a gag reflex because the woman a few seats down from him was clipping her toe nails. Then I gagged.

- The same man who I thought was having a gag reflex exhibiting the same gag reflex with no reason to gag.

- A man falling asleep standing up. His body literally folded in half so that his head nearly bumped the floor.

- A monkey.

[Ok so I didn't see a monkey but wouldn't that be grand? Also this list wasn't as riveting as I thought it would be and I always figure adding a monkey to any list justifies the making of the list. Try it out sometime]

I spit and then it froze.

Real talk.
Also... my stress is taking on the form of a frog hunting me in my dreams.
He carries a bow and arrow.
Furthermore if you get less than three hours of sleep your functioning is impaired equally to that of when you are intoxicated. What does this mean. For an example see the post I wrote the other night. And frozen spit. Unreal.

Here I live in this city.

And there are lots of lights And they sparkle and make me think:
Here I live

In this city
I walk places and cross bridges
I am a grad student
And it flurries
But I am acclimated;

Mostly

I procrastinate and I look for signs
And occasionally I smoke an old man pipe because the smoke is captivating in the air

I sit on porches and I hold this thought:
Here I live in this city.

The bee's knees. You know what I'm talking about.

I was procrastinating, obviously, so here I address procrastination:

Procrastination, I believe you are the solution to everything. I currently approve of your presence in my life as I should be learning all the muscles in the body yet instead am doing anything but learn. Although my studying technique of pretending all the muscles are magical wizarding spells worked for a while, I now firmly stand behind the belief that all muscles should be vestigial structures. Who needs them. Not I.

I will let my muscles atrophy and in doing so I will become the Miraculous Muscless Madame; Thus allowing all future anatomists the freedom from learning all the muscle insertions and origins and pollicis brevis extension retinaculum interossei motor praxis brachii levator scapulae occupational performance. Ok, now I'm just throwing out buzz words to show off.

I take pictures of my rental cat when procrastinating
from less important things. Weird? No way.

Back to procrastination... Thank you, truly. Because of you, I have accomplished endless chores, to-do's, errands, and miscellaneous projects that would never have been finished. Things are cleaner because of you. Namely the dishes. I am more knowledgeable in the subject of the disappearance of bees [check it] additionally I am well learned in the area of efficient composting in urban cities. Hells bells I think I love you procrastination. But, I think we should take a break. Seriously.

Until tomorrow, mm

You're the voice I hear inside my head.

You know those moments when you are sitting there, wherever you are, and suddenly you think "how the ef did I get in this situation?" Or you know, some version of that question introduces itself to your mind.

For instance, the time I was sitting on my porch watching this midget dance on the roof deck across the way I was all "what the ef am I doing here on this porch in Ecuador watching this midget dance." I mainly felt that I should avert my eyes; but I didn't. Anyways I had another moment like this last week. Occasions like these really get me thinking about all sorts of things like God, and the closest glass of milk, and friction versus traction, and time, and machetes, and life and stuff.

Ultimately through all my contemplations I always come back to this answer: Watch this video to find the answers to everything


Yeah it's a throwback. And sure, it doesn't really provide answers for when we are in situations with dancing midgets. In fact the song as a whole has nothing to do with anything except teenage angst and discovery and true love. But I am choosing to focus on these things as well as one line here and that is: "I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be". Thus, whenever I am in a strange, beautiful, or remarkable situation and find myself thinking "what the ef am I doing here?" I bust out a little Camp Rock.

Usually someone joins in with my chorus and our songs go together. And that is a faboosh [*usage of 'faboosh' courtesy of annie*] moment all on it's own.