Coldplay is the only music worth listening to

What if there was no light
Nothing wrong, nothing right
What if there was no time
And no reason or rhyme
What if you should decide
That you don’t want me there by your side
That you don’t want me there in your life

What if I got it wrong
And no poem or song
Could put right what I got wrong
Or make you feel I belong
What if you should decide
That you don’t want me there by your side
That you don’t want me there in your life

Oooh, that’s right
Let’s take a breath, jump over the side
Oooh, that’s right
How can you know it if you don’t even try
Oooh, that’s right

-What If. Coldplay

The Beginning of the End

Christmas is coming, and hooray to that. Boo to the snow, which makes it impossible to get out of a warm bed at 7 in the morning. But hooray for concoctions of half black hazelnut decaf and half cappuccino. That creamy froth goes down like a bad habit.

Boo to being unable to sleep at 2 O'Clock in the morning, despite a full day of studying and running around headless chicken style. Boo to the Organic Chem quiz I have tomorrow. Who cares about enolates and enols anyway?

The last two weeks of school. Hooray for classes that observe the reading period. Boo to Organic Chem for going way out of line, and keeping us learning.

Awesome. Absolut Neuro T-shirts on the way. Hooray to being first in line to buy mine, and double hooray to being a Neuro nerd. Nerdiness is in, baby. Get with the program.

Boo to the feelings of anxiety that seed in the bottom of my stomach and develop into fully grown panic trees on the day of the Orgo exam. Hooray to no more Orgo classes after Dec 17th. Orgo - it's not you, it's me.

But most of all, hooray to being one step closer to the semester that starts it all: applying to Medical Schools, lots of essay writing and....the Mcat. Boo for all the studying I will have to go through to prepare myself.

Life, in the meantime at least, continues to go on.

Thanksgiving weekend is here

Psycho, groupie, cocaine, crazy
Psycho, groupie, cocaine, crazy
Psycho, groupie, cocaine, crazy
Psycho groupie coke
Makes you high makes you hide
Makes you really want to go, stop
Psycho, groupie, cocaine, crazy
Psycho groupie coke
Makes you high makes you hide
Makes you really want to think and stop

-System of a Down

In other news - no class for two whole days! And then, because they hate us so much, Organic Chem exam right after Thanksgiving weekend. Bleh.

November 8th, 2005

I thought time would stand still and let me be 20 forever.

I cannot tell you

let me tell you
I want to tell you
telling you is all I wish-hope-dream for
yes? answer me with affirmation
spectacular, unique, incomparable
tell me, you say
want me to tell you
anything, everything, nothing
in gasps - in stutters – in silence
in quiet tones
and in between words
in between heart beats - a response
harsh, sarcastic, bitter-sweet, painful, inside, outside
every dimension considered
and rushing through daylight
gathering ideas, mentally noting-
to laugh. To breathe. To feel
warm
hot
on fire – and yet
the cool waters of deliberation
anti-Climax
tell me, you say
deleted words, phrases –
a nod here
a frown there
I cannot tell you

Saturday night ramblings

I have a Neuropharmacology exam on Tuesday. I do not have class, meetings, or lab as it is a Saturday and yet I have only studied 3 hours. Why is this so?
For one thing, I am in my room which is most unconducive to productivity - of the studying variety, of course. I need to be in the library, forced to gaze at nothing other than Neuropharmacology text books and notes.
My room is also under a sleep spell. Rip Van Winkle would agree. Entrance is followed by immediate decrease in the firing rates of most of my brain stem modulatory neurons, and a strong desire to get horizontal.
And then, there's no class on Monday, due to ahem, ahem 'Columbus day'. This really should be a day of national mourning, but that's just me...
What else? I just ate a pesto-cheese-tomato-red pepper-and lettuce sandwhich and studying just doesn't seem so hot anymore. Naughty thoughts have begun to intrude, such as...what better time to watch Grim and Evil than the present? Or even better, Reno 911? Family guy? Or heck, the entire adult swim?
Naughty, I tell you. They are being punished.
Orange juice, anyone?

Bathroom conundrum

When one is in the privacy of one's bathroom - and it doesn't necessarily have to be one's bathroom, any bathroom is appropriate - and one is going about one's business, a dilemma is in the making.
The dilemma that I refer to here is the situation in which an external force in the form of a knock is applied to the outside of the door. The door being, of course, the entry to the bathroom that one is currently occupying.
Several solutions avail themselves at this point. Does one cry out, "I'm in here" and endure the possible questions that might ensue? Who exactly is 'I' and what is the initiator of the knock going to do about it? And indeed, one most certainly (depending on where this bathroom is located; public dormitory as opposed to private home) will have ensured that admission is impeded via door-lockage, and as such, utterances akin to 'I'm in here', are redundant to say the least...
One might also cry out, "Occupied!". The ostentation and pageantry associated with such a manner of response need not be discussed.
So what, really, must one say in reaction to this happening?
"Yes?", "What do you want?" or even "Who's there?"
Perhaps one's best option is to remain silent, for even the most brainless of knock-instigators will understand the meaning of a locked door.
Still, the conundrum of the bathroom remains irresolvable. It lurks behind the shower curtain, underneath the bathroom sink, in the medicine cabinet, and not even the most socially cognizant individual can figure out its mysteries.

3rd year at Malory towers uhh, Brown University

So once again it's back to this place that I can almost call home, Brown University, for another year of good old Neuroscience classes and Organic Chemistry labs.
Back to studying late into the night at the Science Library.
To walking Thayer in search of that perfect brew of coffee.
And even though I have the Mcats to think about sometime next semester, I can relax and enjoy the fact that at my fingertips are thousands of resources that can, and will, make me a better person.
Ladies and gentlemen, in no particular order of preference, the long awaited deadrocketcow class list:

CH36: Organic Chemistry
BI80: Principles of Physiology
SI30: Intermediate American Sign Language 1
BN167: Neuropharmacology and Synaptic Transmission

Did you miss me?

How awesome is Coldplay?

Look:

All that noise and all that sound
All those places I got found
And birds go flying at the speed of sound
To show you how it all began
Birds came flying from the underground
If you could see it, then you’d understand

Need I go on?

Words cannot express

I want to tell you a bit about myself. My name is Meredith, I am 5’7, I live with my parents, and tonight I am going to kill them.
Now that you have read that, you may be thinking that I must be mad or worse still, that I am one of those troubled youths who, refusing to let the system brainwash their genius minds must get the system before it gets them, and must begin this process by exterminating their progenitors. Let me assure you that this is not so. I have spent the greater part of 20 years on this planet that I call home thinking about the perfect consciousness. It came to me in a flash last night. You see, blood is a beautiful thing. It flows through your veins, pumping all that sweet oxygen up and down the avenues of your body, making deliveries to every cell. If you cut just so on your wrist, you will feel the pain that comes from cutting through skin, sensitizing mechano and then pain receptors that scream to you, something is wrong, harm is being caused to your body. Deep enough, and blood, warm and red, wells out into the laceration. Deeper still and a few drops become an outflow that gushes forth life, and informs you of the possibilities that exist under your skin, of the richness of being human.
But I digress.
I think about blood often. I lie in my bed, envisioning pools of red liquid, lakes of erythrocytes, hemocytes, leukocytes, thick oceans of pure, hot blood. Of veins spurting forth hemoglobin enriched cells, of thick aortas working and pumping, of punctured carotid arteries pouring out deluges of blood.
So you see, I love the human body. I have a healthy respect for what keeps it alive. My fascination is blood, and tonight I will cure myself of this curiosity, this madness that grips me in the still of the night and takes over my mind. And what better blood, than the blood of the people I love?
Come now, I know what you are thinking. You think I am insane, I am deranged. What psychotic monster have my parents unleashed upon the world? To what stage of utter lunacy have I reached that I would even think such things?
Again, let me assure you. This is not so. Some things simply must be. Things will come to pass….my, how didactic I have become. They will feel no pain, and just think – what wonders will be revealed to mankind. How clear, how sweet the manifestation of what life is. Words cannot express. It will be an ecstatic jubilation of what it means to be alive. And I will relish every moment.

Elevator wars

What is it about the nature of the elevator interior that demands total silence and complete termination of all previous form of communication?
The area in front of the elevator is an extroverts paradise. Work mates clutch cups of expensive, hot starbucks coffee, weekends are described, new shoes, jewelry and other such adornments appraised. Life is good, and high powered executive frolics with lowly janitor. Buttons are pressed, the wonder of being at work is discussed, and all is well.
Then a light flashes. Ding! A slight shift in the air, and people regard each other, stealing furtive glances from under lowered lashes. An almost imperceptible spirit visible only to the trained eye has possessed this group. It reveals itself in the clenched buttock, in the tightening of the jaw, the faltering conversation.
The doors open, and each walks into his own private territory. A little to the left, a bit to the back. Muttered excuse me's and sorry's are exchanged. Place feet appropriately and stance.
In a second, the elevator doors glide towards each other and shut.
And there is silence.
1 - ding
2 - ding
Shoes are examined. Quality mentally assessed and prices calculated. That one over there shops at Walmart. That one over here shops at JC Penny. Not me, I shop at Saks. Noses turn upward as if seeking the air that is purest and untainted.
3 - ding
Eyes ever forward, faces composed, eyes unyielding. It is the great elevator undertaking. Be cool. Be sauve.
4, 5 - ding, ding. People get off.

And down again.

Hell is my house

My days have passed away, my
thoughts are dissipated, tormenting my
heart.
They have turned night into day,
and after darkness I hope for light again.
If I wait hell is my house, and I have
made my bed in darkness.
I have said to rottenness; thou art
my father; to worms, my mother and
my sister.
Where is now then my expectation,
and who considereth my patience?
All that I have shall go down into
the deepest pit: Thinkest thou that there
at least I shall have rest?

Job 17: 11 - 16

They are with me

so we are here. you and I. let us sit at this table, this big table, over polished glass and wanton displays of starched whiteness. lift fork here, sip water there.
only do not look at me that way. if you do, i will poison your children
murder your seed
haha, you like that? and you drape me with the flesh of exotic tree dwelling animals. when you adorn my neck with blood, you smile to yourself. i am your pretty trinket, your gold plated imitation gucci. smile at me, you say. i smile at you, and the silver you planted in my teeth reflects the candlelight that bounces offyour bald head
we sit at this table that is as long as it is wide, under ceiling as high as you are tall. you look down at me, possesively, exclusively. everything is as you want it. shoes? i will give you shoes, licentious underclothing that you tear offmy naked body
wear red, you say. i wear red, and i hang my head hang my head my head...
and they watch. perhaps it is the smell of the cocoa butter that you spread on my back. remind me how to be cruel. remind me that clothes hanging to dry under hot sun strong wind
look like ghost and whisper treacherous ideas to me.
only open your eyes and you will see that I talk with them. if you come, you will see me, and you will see how I am with them. and so we sit here
at
this table
that is as long as it is wide as dark as you are strong

and they are with me

May is for mothers

Back in the day Mom used to get excruciating migraines and she still gets them once in a while, but those suckers rendered her completely defenceless, reduced to an agonised heap beneath sweaty and dark sheets. I would sneak into her room, lay next to her on that huge expanse of bed, and stare at her. I remember those times, like they were (yes indeed) yesterday. The fan would whir out its promises each time it made its relentless circuit, and as it turned to face us, breathe soft air into the stagnant migraine waters of the room.
Vague and disorganised primary school memories hide in the dark recess of my mind. They float around like faded post it notes, dropped behind a cluttered desk, aching to be examined again.
I see her, morning after morning, holding the blue jacket I had to stuff into my bag before I got to school because it 'wasn't part of the uniform, and could be con-fis-cated' over the grill, so it would be warm when I wore it. And when I walked to the stop, with my head as low in my jacket as was possible, and the sleep still in my eyes, I was warm.
And always, always, just like clockwork, in the hour she had for lunch, she would come pick me up after school. I tried to be nonchalant about it, face expressionless, walking over to the car with not a care in the world. Yeah, Mom, I knew you were coming.
But I was delighted. Nothing beat the joy of seeing her come driving into the parking lot, with the window slightly down, and the smell of ZCCM wafting out the car.
And there would be ice-cream after that. Bright (almost to the point of fluorescence) pink artifically flavored after taste inducing strawberry ice-cream. I loved it. It gave her headaches, but she ate it with me anyway.
It's all that, and it's more. I know you know this already, but hey. My Mom rocks.

I like your earrings

Look, I don't know you. When I'm sitting in the CIT or the Sci Li, and I'm frowning over my Organic Chemistry text book, with the steam coming out of my ears because I can't figure out how to make a reaction work, don't smile at me. I don't want to see your pretty little crest whitestrip enhanced dental formula. The reason I have those huge headphones over my ears is because I don't want to exchange idle chit chat with you. So what if it's nice outside? I have an exam tomorrow, and I feel really, really stupid right now. I don't want to stop my music and take off my earphones to listen to you tell me you're also considering being pre-med, or that you're a freshman (really, only freshmen do this), and yes isn't Organic Chemistry so incredibly boring?
I have synthesis problems to figure out, reagents to memorise and carbons to count. So when you walk in with your pink little ruffled barely there summer skirt, matching toenails and cute tote bag, walk past me, find your see-and-be-seen center stage spot at the table and fuss over the 8 page paper you have due for your English final.
Complain that your class is so very hard, because you have a paper due every other month. Or you actually have to read through an entire book to keep up with class readings.
And yeah, I actually do mind turning down my music. I have it blasting away on purpose. I like a nicely fried eardrum. Don't look at me, and I certainly won't look at you. I have work to do.

By the way, I like your earrings.

What do you mean, 'it's only an email'?

Hi [my name] jus wnted 2 kno if u cud meet earlier on 2day 'stead of @ 2pm lik we sed. s'thing came up and I hav 2 go out of twn this afternoon. how dus 10am sound? thanks, [her name].

With the veins bulging out in my neck, my eyeballs nearly bursting out of their sockets and an increasingly accelerating heart beat, I considered deleting this email and never speaking to this person again.
What an utter atrocity of an email! How dare we let ourselves sink to this disgusting level of erroneous punctuation and nauseating grammar.
I cannot believe the argument that because it is only an email, it doesn't need to be letter perfect. Is this a logical conclusion? Is it? Just because one is able to communicate with someone else in an instant, just because the way in which one is achieving this communication is electronic is not reason enough that we become derelict and sloppy with our writing.
That form of communication, regardless of the medium, is going to be received, read and assumptions are going to be made about the way the sender thinks - after all, what is an email but a presentation of ones ideas?
And saying the reason we can be tardy in the way we write is because it is so convenient is utter hogwash. Surely, a convenience such as this ought to give us more time to take pride in the way we write, to articulate ourselves well and damnit, to use paragraphs.
No, it is not just an email. It is a reflection of who you are. It is communication. Take pride in the way you write.
And at the very least, be coherent.

It's all about me

Advanced Global Personality Test Results Extraversion 26% Stability 43% Orderliness 46% Empathy 70% Interdependence 30% Intellectual 90% Mystical 90% Artistic 83% Religious 10% Hedonism 10% Materialism 90% Narcissism 70% Adventurousness 76% Work ethic 90% Self absorbed 50% Conflict seeking 43% Need to dominate 76% Romantic 83% Avoidant 63% Anti-authority 90% Wealth 36% Dependency 10% Change averse 50% Cautiousness 83% Individuality 90% Sexuality 76% Peter pan complex 70% Physical security 63% Food indulgent 90% Histrionic 30% Paranoia 90% Vanity 63% Hypersensitivity 50% Female cliche 30%

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Bye Spring Break

Don't let the door hit you on your way out.

Becoming normal

And so my spring break is almost over and I am glad. I really cannot wait until Wednesday at 5pm when I have my ghanain drumming class. I cannot wait to complain that I have three exams on the same day, and lab hasn't been cancelled.
I want to hit the V-dub at 4:45pm, have a quick dinner and then swipe my card to begin 4 hours of work with the nicest, most interesting workers there are.
I miss Manny, with his gray hair curling out from under his Buds cap, and his shy smile.
I miss Antonio aka Tony, with the long braid that goes all the way down to the small of his back. You don't want to mess with him.
And even though Ernesto gives me the creeps with his I'm-so-hot-right-now attitude (especially when he slips on that awful leather jacket) and his mashed finger - I kinda miss him too.
I miss parrying Pedro's continued quest to take me out to dinner.
Or Rabbit telling me what a great job I've done as soon as I walk in the door.
I miss seeing the shock on Bling-Bling and Baby-Gurl's faces when I tell them how I spend my weekends - studying or doing research at the Sci Li/CIT.
"Girl, you need to go clubbin sometime. You need a life"
I don't really know the other two student workers. They come and they go. Depending on how good they are at holding back their dinner when they discover they have to scrape the remains off other people's plates, or (oh, the horror) clean up the mess their friends made, they may last the week. I usually give them 3 weeks max. Then new ones come.
So far I haven't lost a bet.

Wow. I've been up all night.

Life is

silence. heart beating. blood - blood gushing. life blood. who said life was about blue skies and green fields?
Life is

tears gray skies winter cold streets mist

Today is Thor's-day. He sleeps somewhere with his short hammer dreaming about thunder. Sometimes I dream about thunder. I dream about it perhaps because it makes me small. And everybody wants to feel small and insignificant right?
Right?
I discovered today that I define myself by what I do. I need Organic Chemistry, and I need Neuroscience, I need deadlines for research, because without them...
Life is

tears gray skies winter cold streets mist

Last night I went and saw two movies all by my lonesome. I saw The Ring 2, and then I saw Hitch. I should have done it the other way round, but what gives.
I liked The Ring 2 because I felt helpless, scared and alive. I liked the idea of a mother having to kill her child to save it. Oh yes.
Evil is like that. You can't keep giving and trying to help it, because it is never satisfied and it will always want more. No matter how patient and loving you are, in the end it will bite you in the back. And then bite your leg for good measure. Because evil loves to bite.
Hitch needs no comment. It was that kind of movie.
I should have watched The Ring twice.

Fragments

question;
do you see me? do you see me here? do you see me as I see you? do you want me? do you want me now? do you want me as I want you?

I came back to school today at 8am. I slept right through until 5pm, got up and turned on my computer for my daily sustenance of msn, aim and other people's blogs. A few hours later I got up because I was hungry, and so I ate.

It was raining today. Cold unrelenting buckets of H2O running down my windows - what a sound. I am dismal. Melancholy is such a beautiful word. I feel the quiet of my room pressing down on me from the ceiling, from the walls, and I wonder if the silence will slowly drive me insane. I do not wish to speak - speaking will only disturb the silence that has accumulated like dust on my skin. I feel as though I could sit in bed forever, I feel as though I will remain ageless; unmoving and untouched by time.
My mind is slowly emptying itself out. It is like a black hole now. A space that once was filled. Only blankness-
blank blackness, black blankness...

I cannot describe to you this sensation. I am floating in the dark. Pure utter, darkness. It is pure because there is only dark. It is utter because it is complete- and I like it. I want to stay in this blackness forever.

This must end

Perfecting the art of the Anti-social one day at a time; one silent hour after the other. In my room, reading my book, as always. Got up this morning, went to my computer, as always. Checked in at the Msn Hotel, with a stop at the Aim Plaza, for an increasingly unhealthy addiction to making huge castles in the air with random online people. (let's save the world) People I've never met. People I will never meet. And so my mind wanders-
because I have too much time on my hands. I don't have to think about studying Orgo, or neuroscience or practicing my sign language. No research to get done by the end of the week, no work, no lab, just a nothing-ness that could stretch on forever. And so my mind wanders-
because...
And the thing is, I want to stay in my room. I want to stay here until the end of spring break, and just breathe. And even if a friend I know who is also on campus knocked on my door and wanted us to go do something, I would say no. So when my friends come back from Miami, and Hawai, and the-place-where-College-sophomores-go-to-get-wild, they will ask me why I stayed in my room all week and did nothing. I will have no answer, and they will make their own answers for me - they will tell me it's
because...
Because in another dimension I would be
would be...exhilarated.
And they will fling the D word at me. They will tell me I need to get over-
the hill, it's a big hill, and ah, the grass is so green. And there are flowers. Purple flowers, and oh, the sky is so blue...
Insurmountable, unforgettable. The telltale signs of a fleeting moment, a moment that lasted ten thousand years, yet was over before it ever began. Slowly sinking in a downward spiral.

This must end.

Hello Spring Break

Walking out of Organic Chemistry this morning was an almost tangible load off my mind. Just to think; for the next week and a half, life will be pure, divine bliss with waking up as late as I can, guilt free conversations on messenger ad nauseam, and blogging to my hearts content.
And then there's Adult Swim, Cartoon Network (perhaps a little Nickelodeon) and Comedy Central - how I have longed for their off-beat humor and poorly drawn animated characters.
Haven't watched tv in the longest time.
But still, there is work to be done. If I am not done declaring my concentration by sometime in April, I will not be allowed to register for my 5th semester at Brown. Now that, is not cool.
Now, lest you think I am tardy, let me tell you that I was done declaring my concentration at the beginning of the semester until I discovered that neuropharmacology is like.....awesome. Of course I had arranged my classes with a focus on understanding the molecular basis of memory, including working in a lab for my research thesis....so in short; I need to re-declare.
I want to learn how chemicals affect the brain. How medication used to treat diseases of the brain (and mind, for all you dualists out there) affect it in the process. How awesome is that?
I know. Awesome-est.
I also need to do a research project for sign language. But hey;

out in the street I see flip flops -
and
the sun
touches my cheek and whispers

spring is here

Like Moses

Come on now, don't you want to see?
This thing that's happening to me
Like Moses has power over sea
So you've got power over me

Coldplay

Getting down to business

I need to study Orgo

I need to study Orgo

I need to study Orgo

I need to study Orgo

(now that I'm done writing about it, I can get down to business)

Lunch at the Ratty

When the sky decides it has had enough of holding the now frozen water molecules (yay Orgo!) in its belly, it opens its mouth and regurgitates (the other way is just nasty) snow onto the world below it, making sure to render every sidewalk, every pedestrian pathway totally inaccessible for simple walking.
So it was that I picked my way through snowy mush to the Sharpe Refectory Cafeteria, aka the Ratty, way down there on the-other-side-of-campus. I was totally making a statement in my bright (Ye, Gad) yellow jacket, which I swore never to wear, on account of it being hazardous to the eyes, but who cares? It was cold out, and it's a mighty warm jacket. As I approached one out of three sets of doors, I removed the earphones from my ears (because you know I was listening to Lenny Kravitz telling me he wants to fly away; yeah, yeah, yeaaah), in order that I would not appear rude when I had palaver with the man-who-swipes-the-cards.
He's a nice man, this man-who-swipes-the-cards, but he's the kinda guy who revs up his engine, and once it gets started, goes full steam ahead into the no return land of when I was your age. So I kept the smile on my face whilst my stomach had pre-lunch conversation with my salivary glands (hunger is the best sauce donchya know - even for Ratty food), nodded at the appropriate intervals, and added a 'yeah' every now and then for good measure. At the juncture between the "I wasn't like that..." and the next "You young people nowadays...." I made my hasty (and hungry) retreat.
So much food, and so little time. This last semester, the Ratty had the Brown's version of Extreme Makeover, and 4 different sections boast a variety (ahem, ahem) of dishes designed to tickle those ravenous student taste buds. For people like me, there is a whole section devoted to animal friendly food. I am a wrap kinda girl, and so I crammed a tomato and basil wrap with beans, cheese, peppers, rice and shredded lettuce, and made my starving way to the grills.
It was a balancing act with my tray, water bottle and bag to find a seat, but I made my way there, and heaved a sigh of relief as I sat down.
It was time to dig in.

lol

Sunset

the late glow of a sunset
golden
shimmering;
incandescent

bathe me in your warmth
burn me in your intensity
close my eyes
and just let me be

I soar
faster, higher
gliding on your wings
of golden light

unadulterated euphoria;
turbulent passion
anger..sorrow..rapture... madness
anything-
just let me be

in the late glow of a sunset

Valentines day is everyday.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
and so are you.

Four lines. Let us take a moment to explore these four lines. These four lines are an expression from the beating heart that pumps hopelessly romantic love around the circulatory system of the soul. Roses are red....it's a matter of fact. You don't deny a force of nature. Roses are red. Simple, yet profound. Violets are blue....more of the same. Just with that little extra pzazz. Sugar is sweet....how could it be anything else? One thinks sugar, one thinks sweet. No two ways about it. So, here's the good part (you can wake up now) you are all that. And more. Your beauty is simple. Yet profound. My love, too, is like that for you. Undeniable. Unquestionable. Just as roses are red. Just as violets are blue. Just as sugar is sweet. So is my love for you. It's a fact.

Sci Li - CIT hybridization

Consider the Science Library, which has 5 medium energy ( with the energy caused by classes, work, and lab) weekday orbitals and 2 low energy weekend orbitals. In order that the intrepid student molecule achieve optimal bonding with the Sci Li, that is, maximal studying output with mininal energy input, the student must bond with the low energy weekend orbitals first.

However, a closer look at the low energy weekend orbitals available at the Sci Li will reveal that these orbitals have nodes which will not allow any student-Sci Li bonding to take place. These nodes are in full effect Saturdays after 10pm, and Sundays before 12pm. In addition, the latter most medium energy weekday orbital has a node after 10pm.

It is clear that optimal student-Sci Li bonding cannot take place at the afore-mentioned nodes, and so it becomes necessary that another studying place, the Center for Information Technology be involved.

Consider the CIT, which has 5 high energy weekday orbitals ( with the energy caused by rooms being occupied for lectures) and 2 low energy weekend orbitals. Contrary to the Sci Li, the CIT's low energy weekend orbitals have nodes that are spaced further apart, with a node on Saturdays after 2am and Sundays after 2am, leaving more room for student-CIT bonding.

Therefore, mixing the medium energy weekday orbitals at the Sci Li and the low energy weekend orbitals at the CIT will result in a Sci Li - CIT hybird to which the noble student molecule will be free to bond with optimal results.

I am a fool

Silence

I am back
here
back in the same place I was before
wondering
sighing
dying inside
so I question myself
how did I get here?

must I keep coming back
again and
again
like a dog
to its own vomit?

questions - every one of them unanswered
silence
silence
silence

but even so
spring comes
soon after winter

dawn comes
soon after dusk

and the sun bids goodbye to the moon

Black History Month

Don't call me black. I am African-American.
My great grandfather was oppressed. My grandfather was oppressed
I come here, and you tell me
I am oppressed.
I will stand before you and I will tell you about my oppression-
Because I am oppressed.

Don't call me black. I am African-American.
I will learn about my heritage
and so I will major in africana studies
to learn my roots
I will become a message to those of you that would oppress me-
beat me down
tear me down
wear me down.

Don't call me black. I am African-American.
Don't hate on me.
Don't hate on my people.
I will make you see the difference-

Don't call me black. I am African-American

Sophomore Slump

Hooray for friends, and hot Selorm cooked west african stew on rice. Hooray for central heating. Boo to the snow. Boo to the distance between the Sci Li and my room.

I'm back. Back and ready for part deux. Hey, one more semester before I need to seriously consider taking the infamous Mcat....and ye gads, medical school. (Do I want it?) Right now I can groan my way through 3 months of Organic chemistry. What gives right?

Classes, classes classes. Here's that list (in order of preference) which I know you are all dying to see:

BN102 - Principles of Neurobiology
MU68 - Ghanaian Drumming
SI20 - American Sign Language
CH35 - Organic Chemistry

So there you have it. The earth, my dears, continues to rotate on its 23 and a half degree angle, despite one B in statistics. The moon, my dears, continues to shine. (At night)

What sophomore slump?

2005

Hail Mary
Full of grace
the Lord is with thee
Blessed art thou among women
and blessed is the fruit
of thy womb, Jesus
Holy Mary,
Mother of God,
pray for us sinners now,
and at the hour of death

Amen