abigailnicole: (Default)



raining here in New Orleans; I could be doing homework but am instead choosing to sit around being surly and looking at mixtes on the internet. Just got back from a long-car-trip Thanksgiving (~12 hours in a car each way NOLA to KY) and thus am craving bike rides. Since it’s raining and blah outside this means not so much riding my bike (after all, the aforementioned homework) as reading bike blogs. 

I had my last med school interview while I was at home, at the University of Kentucky, in the rain. It’s a good school with a huge brand-new hospital. Classes only last from eight to noon your first two years so you have afternoons to study. The girl next to me was wearing a navy blue pinstripe suit and had a Bumpits in her hair. When we left the girl I walked out with said: “I can’t wait go to home and put on sweatpants.” I stood on S. Limestone in the rain in my black pencil skirt and black blazer with a rainbow umbrella and put my heels on a pink X that was spray-painted on the sidewalk. A house on the street had thick leaves all over their yard, and for some reason the red, orange, and brown against the green looked extra saturated in the lack of other colors, the asphalt, the sidewalk. 

I felt disappointed. 

My boyfriend’s second-choice school is going back home to Oregon, to have to live in Portland and go to Portland State. You know, a city, where everyone rides bicycles, and there are cute things everywhere and all kinds of mid-twenties hipsters doing whatever makes their little artsy hearts happy. There are good and bad sides to this, of course, but I am tired of trying to be objective about this: living in a rural area is pretty terrible. I know. I did it for eighteen years. You’re isolated, you don’t have a lot of friends and none that live close to you, you entertain yourself, you shop at department stores in suburbs you have to drive an hour to get to and you feel dazzled by the selection when you get there. Eating at Red Lobster is exotic because it’s expensive and seafood and you don’t live anywhere near the ocean and for that matter, you don’t live anywhere near the Red Lobster, either.  Maybe once a month you go to the movies. You go to work and come home every night and watch television, because there’s nothing else going on anyway. The center of your social life is your church, or work if you’re lucky to be working with other people you like/get along with. 

It’s not what I want anymore. I’m tired of being okay with it.  I am jealous of my friends—what, that ridiculous 70% of that Tulane population, and 99% of my friends—that went to private school. I didn’t. I didn’t get special attention; there was none to be had. I did the best with what I could. I am jealous of my friends who were from big cities, who had drama departments and art departments at their schools, who had neighbors they could go visit, and small theatres and local bakeries and restaurants and parties and bicycles and new bookstores and used bookstores and record stores and art galleries and coffeeshops. We don’t. I never did. 

I’ve been struggling all through college not to be bitter about it, but I am. I dated someone who made fun of how uncultured I was, who looked down on me and was embarrassed to go to nice restaurants with me because I couldn’t pronounce the names of food. I AM UNCULTURED. Everything I know about culture I had to learn myself from the internet. I didn’t have it growing up. I still can’t eat rice with chopsticks and feel stupid and embarrassed when I inevitably drop it all over myself trying. I don’t know how to order sushi, I never ate sushi until I came to college. I don’t know what wines go with what foods because they aren’t even legally allowed to sell alcohol where I live. I’ve never seen a Shakespeare play performed, where would I have? I’ve never seen a ballet, or an opera. My written vocabulary is much, much greater than my spoken vocabulary and I pronounce words wrong. I’ve only read them, after all.

Which is what I did have, really. I read everything. I still read everything someone hands me, everything I get my hands on, I read indiscriminately and don’t buy books unless I’ve already read them. And that was fine for eighteen years (probably more like sixteen). But it’s not fine anymore, and I don’t want to go back, and I don’t want to get used to it again, and I want to do things with my life. 

It is disappointing. Kentucky loves to dress down. If you can wear sweatpants and a tshirt you do. In high school I wore jeans everyday; I sometimes wanted to wear a skirt, but felt embarrassed when I did, like I stuck out in the hallways because no one else was. They still don’t. It’s like daily life isn’t worth getting dressed up for, isn’t really worth putting in a lot of effort. And in the rain and grey of Lexington, waiting on the side of the road in uncomfortable shoes, watching all the people in their cars and no one smiling, it seemed all more depressing than I could stand.  
abigailnicole: (knitting)
Meme TIME!meme )
in more interesting news, I made a ringtone out of the Big Bang Theory theme because it said autotrophs. HOW MANY SONGS SAY AUTOTROPHS. NOT MANY. NOW ONE OF THEM IS MY PHONE. WHY DOES FIREFOX NOT RECOGNIZE AUTOTROPHS AS A WORD.

more things.

KNITTING! LOOK AT WHAT I HAVE MADE:




next project: a big moebius strip scarf for Tom, who requested one. it's a good break from all the sweaters I've been doing. probably in blue and yellow, as requested as well. after that klein bottle hat, since I'm knitting mathematically I might as well make a ONE SURFACE HAT. you don't know how cool it is until you try it on.

OTHER STUFF I'M MAKING. my tshirt quilt. I'm gonna do it this week for real. Mom's getting me cardboard to template and cut the shirts, then is going to help me with the sewing machine--though its all straight lines, so once she helps me get started with all the stuff I never remember (setting stitches, threading bobbins, figuring out all the knobs and buttons) I should be able to get all the squares put together on my own. I think I'm going to cheat and do the backing as a fleece? Instead of doing traditional batting and then cotton. But it's my first, so give me a break. If it turns out well I'm hoping to make another one for someone else. If it turns out poorly, well, maybe it's time to start a better one with more care this time.


also I started playing the ukulele again, specifically to play Andrew Jackson Jihad songs. everyone needs more ukulele players in their life.



I also saw my wives.


I'm done here.
abigailnicole: (knitting)

I need a haircut


...

UP was just sad, guys.. I cried three times. It's not uplifting, like the other Pixar movies? Well, it's UP-lifting (har, har) but it was just terribly sad. In a way it's awful because so many bad things happened to Carl, and he just has to take it. There's nothing he can do to fight it, he just has to move on and live his life among people who don't even know or understand what he's going through. And Russel not having a dad wasn't the worst part, the wrost part was that this wasn't even a big deal, that it didn't even get the full story or any big explanation because this happens to so many kids that we already know how it ends. This movie was 80% sad.

...


spending time with my brother....I really didn't miss this as much as I thought I did.

...

The pollen is out again, dry yellow dust on my car that I can push off with the windshield wipers. It sits on the surface of the lake, too. I feel like my whole head's been put through a wringer, smushing up my face and compressing all my sinuses. I get headaches...plants are stupidly overproductive in southeastern KY. Reproduce less, plants. What's up with that.

...


guys I got this far and I am OUT OF YARN. so angry. ANGRY. GRRRR. I asked mom to get me some more but I really hope they have the same color! Or else I'll frog it and start the ribbing earlier and have a short sweater. I guess I could rip it out and have quarter-length sleeves or something awful like that. But I don't wanna do that.

...

Reading Human Croquet. It's all musical lyrical witty unique. I can't tell if I really like the writing style or just think it's really annoying, can't tell if the narrator is clever or just self-pitying and obnoxious.
abigailnicole: (not envy)

five quetions, five details, five songs.
GO:

five questions...a meme or something, from Kelsey. You're supposed to say: "interview me!" if you want me to interview you, but I'm terrible at these things. Try if you like.

1. What is the best thing about Kentucky?
The landscape. Cumberland falls. Levi Jackson state park. If you take Mountains and Rivers and reduce them by an order of magnitude, you have Kentucky.
2. Besides Simon Tam, what is the most compelling thing about medicine?
IT'S YOUR BODY, IT WORKS. It's the best machine ever. Nobody really knows why or how, and we really can't even fix it when it breaks. THE STUFF YOUR LIVER DOES, YOU HAVE NO IDEA. IF YOU KNEW WHAT YOUR LUNGS WERE LIKE ON THE INSIDE. You have this great big working THING that has so much effort and amazingness and IT WORKS and nobody appreciates it really. you only complain when it doesn't work. YOU'RE PERFECT AND YOU DON'T EVEN CARE.
3. Terry Prattchet gets to write three more books - one of them completely coherent, one of them enlightening but somewhat nonsensical, and one of them is mostly gibberish. Which story arcs get what book?
Perfect book: goes to the Watch or perhaps Moist von Lipwig, though I thnk he had his perfect book already and I don't see how this could be an arc. Enlightening and nonsensical: goes to Death or the Witches. and Gibbersih? Give it to Rincewind, I never liked hm anyway.
4. Who should the next Doctor have been?
I didn't have a choice. Both Russel T. Daives and Stephen Moffat said as soon as they saw the new Doctor they knew it was it, without question, so I'm gonna trust them.
5. Where are you going to hide out when the zombie apocalypse happens?
In New Orleans? Butler. New Orleans is a terrible place to be when the zombies come back. In Kentucky? I live on a lake, so there is no shortage of freshwater, the basement has foot-thick concrete walls in case of nuclear attack or bombs being dropped. the living room's a lost cause, all those windows, but we've got the storage pantry in the basement and we could move the food down before the zombies caught up. I bet we could secure a perimeter easy.


five details
a.) there is a huge bottle of vodka in my roommate's drawer. I'm not sure whose it is or how it got here
b.) I am standing around barefoot, wrapped in a blanket, cradling a volume of Shakespeare like a baby. I wish this was how women were stereotyped. Gaston: "women should go back to the library, where they belong"
c.) watching M*A*S*H makes me think of Frank Burns and Margaret O'Houlahan as Team Rocket. this one small detail could ruin my life
d.) mashing up bananas and waffle batter to make a BAFFLE. perhaps this word is already taken and I should choose another
e.) conversation today waling back from expository writing: GRIZZLY BEAR versus GREAT WHITE SHARK on an inclined plane half land half water. WHO WOULD WIN?

five songs in one word each
1. Put A Penny In The Slot - Fionn Regan: content
2. Broadripple is Burning - Margot & The Nuclear So-and-So's: drunk-dialing
3. Untitled 01 - Brand New: nostalgic
4. Fuck You - Lily Allen: appropriate
5. Now Now - St. Vincent: postapocalyptic

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Nicole

March 2013

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