Archive for the ‘Music’ Category
- In: Movies | Music | School | To Whom it May Concern | Wanderlust
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To 3rd Year (aka the Year that Very Nearly Killed Me):
No offense or anything, but boy am I glad I’ll never have to see you again. You sure did give my ass a whooping now, didn’t you? All those weekends spent doing root canal access openings and long nights spent with the books sure did teach me a thing or two about appreciating the small things in life, like naps. I mean, seriously, if I had a penny for all the times I thought to myself, “God, I’d kill for a nap,” I’d be off sailing into the sunset somewhere around the Mediterranean right now.
And geez, your buddies? All 16 of them? They sure didn’t make things any easier, mind you. Take the best of your pals, Microbiology and Pathology, for instance. They very nearly turned me and every last person in my dental school into raving hypochondriacs. I swear, My Girl’s Vada Sultenfuss had nothing on us. I mean, it was totally normal for us to be all ready to dig into a steaming hot bowl of kuay thiew tom yum, only to stop short and ponder about the striking similarities of the noodles to Ascaris lumbricoides, and to wonder if that’s the reason why some of us (not me, obviously) can devour a pint of ice-cream and a loaf of bread before hitting the sack, and still remain as thin as a rail. Or how about the countless times we were learning about some random disease in Patho, only to notice an obscure spot on our arm and go, “Shit, do I have dermatitis herpetiformis? Does that mean I can’t have gluten? But I can’t live without — oh wait, that’s a mosquito bite.”
I mean, THAT’S JUST NOT HEALTHY.
But thankfully we got over it. And lived through it. And man, although you’ve taught me SO incredibly much this year — stuff that is actually starting to come together and make sense, stuff that I can actually see myself applying to real live patients in the future — I still have to say, THANK GOD I’LL NEVER HAVE TO SEE YOU AGAIN.
Au revoir, sucka!
But thankfully yours,
Lynn
- In: Books | Music | Nostalgia | Randomness
- 7 Comments
Bua tagged me ages ago, so without further ado, here I go!
~*~
6 WEIRD THINGS ABOUT ME:
- Unlike the rest of the world (and my favorite Gilmore girls, Lorelai and Rory), I absolutely cannot stand coffee. Just the thought of drinking it makes me want to hurl. Dude, just TYPING about thinking of drinking coffee makes me want to hurl. This is why, whenever I hang at Starbucks or any random cafe, I usually go for some hot chocolate, iced tea, or a chilly frappuccino instead. Weirdly enough, I actually like the smell of coffee verra much, though. Not so sure why, but one possible reason could be because it reminds me of my dad; one of my earliest memories is of him reading to me with a cup of steaming hot java in his left hand.
- I have a great fascination for the Regency era, whether it be fashion, literature (hello, Jane Austen), architecture, art, anything. Of course, despite my great love for all things Regency, this doesn’t mean I’d like to be transplanted to the 1820’s; I don’t want to drop dead from smallpox or implode from wearing a corset, thank you very much.
- Sure, malls are great places to shoe-$hop, but for me, they’re also excellent places to people-watch.
The Great Divide
Posted on: November 24, 2006
- In: Music
- 6 Comments
This Thanksgiving I’m thankful for so many new things. But no matter what happens and how many years go by, I think I’ll always be thankful for my favorite Tulsan boys. It’s amazing how ten years after hearing MMMBop on the radio, they can still make my heart feel funny.
- In: Books | Movies | Music | Nostalgia | School | To Whom it May Concern
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To Next Term:
I am one week away from meeting you, but already I hate you.
Of course, a large part of this hatred has to do with the sad fact that, for the next four months, I will be having class with you SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. This means that on Saturdays I have to have my ass in class by 9 a.m. Sundays, which God deemed to be the day of rest, are even worse, because said ass has to be there by 8 a.m.
8 a.m.!
That loud flushing noise, by the way, is the sound of my social life going down the toilet. That low grumbling sound, on the other hand, is my biological clock, who, thanks to your good friend, Last Term, has yet to recover (The Clock is still VERY disgruntled as it’s still six hours behind normal BKK time and living on London time which is totally demented since I’ve never even flown over the freaking city much less set foot there), as seen here:
I mean, seriously, will you look at that? It’s the Tower of Freaking Babel! If that is the amount of damage that Last Term can wreak, then I don’t even want to imagine what YOU have in store for me. I’ll have you know that as much as I love to read, my brain is only capable of storing so much.
I have to admit, though, that a small part of me is kind of looking forward to Saturday classes at the university clinic, where I have already placed first dibs on the kid’s play room. It looks like a very nice place to take a mid-day nap, though I figure I’m probably going to have to fight the kids for it. Maybe I can threaten them with a dental drill…
Just kidding!
But I digress, because seriously, Next Term, that schedule of yours is no laughing matter. Please keep in mind that any hairy eyeballs you might stumble across in the next four months are ALL intended for you and YOU ONLY.
Grrr.
Spitefully yours,
Lynn
Hua Hin 2006
Posted on: October 20, 2006
- In: Books | Friends | Music | Photography | Wanderlust
- 5 Comments
Last August, during Arwen’s visit to Thailand, we woke up at the crack ass of dawn to drive down to Hua Hin for the weekend.
So please excuse the bleary eyes and drowsy smiles.
But then we started talking about the demented things we used to do in high school (all of which require a separate entry of its own), and pretty soon the sleepy faces were gone. :)
When we finally arrived in Hua Hin, we found this quaint flower pot
in the condo lobby and decided to pose with it.
While waiting for the elevator, my eye wandered.
And although it was a cloudy day…
…the view from the condo was pretty fab nonetheless.
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Audio Pimpage
Posted on: September 29, 2006
- In: Books | Music | School
- 2 Comments
Official Finals Tally: 2 down, 6 more to go. :(
So the Anatomy lab exam today (well, technically yesterday) wasn’t as bad as I originally thought it’d be. First off, the much hated salpingopharyngeus didn’t even appear on the exam — AT ALL — meaning that the A I had my eye on at the beginning of the term is still mine. Quelle surprise! So much fingernail-biting over nothing. This makes me wonder if all that last minute praying/pleading/begging (“Are you there God? It’s me, Lynn.”) had something to do with it. Who knows? Like my girl Caroline always says, “It’s interesting how we all suddenly become real chummy with God during exam time.”
Gee, no kidding.
Anyway, before I send you all spiraling into a coma with my rants on Academia, I thought I’d divulge on another one of my biggest loves ever…
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Grey’s vs. Gray’s
Posted on: September 25, 2006
- In: Music | School
- 7 Comments
“I don’t want to read Gray’s Anatomy, dammit. I want to WATCH Grey’s Anatomy!!!!”
–Lynn, as her brother sat watching the entire 2nd season of Grey’s Anatomy, much to her personal torment.
I wish my brain were a thumb drive. I wish I could download my entire Gray’s Anatomy book, float into the exam room, pencil in those bubbles with my eyes closed, and float right on out. I wish the muscles of the head, like the salpingopharyngeus, weren’t so miniscule and hard to find, leaving me with no other option than to probe and squint at my poor cadaver as my formaldehyde-stung eyes weep in protest to the clanging buzz of the timer behind me (how, I ask you, is it possible to locate the itty bitty, teeny tiny salpingopharyngeus in under 40 seconds???).
On the other hand, I guess I could wish for a personal McDreamy to whisper the answers over my shoulder to me. Hmmm. Yeah, I think I’d like that best. :)
Anyway, despite the magnitude of ill will I harbor for the salpingopharyngeus, I must say that none of it compares to the trigeminal nerve. Nor the brachial plexus, which is probably the worst of them all.
Things that Go Bump in the Night
Posted on: February 8, 2006
Anyone who’s ever spent all off five minutes in Asia will tell you that this is a continent steeped in superstition and tales of the supernatural. Baby-stealing ghosts, aliens, fireball-spouting snakes — you name it, we believe it. Unlike in the West, when someone tells a ghost story here, it’s not so much, “What? Hah. Yeah right, like that’d really happen,” it’s more a sense of, “Yes, that reminds me of the time I was fourteen and was held down by a ghost in my sleep and was told that if I didn’t remove my younger brother from his room, another rival ghost in the house was going to kill him.”
That, by the way, apparently happened to my friend’s father many years ago. He didn’t heed the ghost’s warnings, and coincidentally his baby brother was found dead in his crib the next morning.
Obviously, this is a country full of supernatural believers. Which is why, when a professor at my university decided to end it all by jumping from the top floor of the science building last month, I knew that — after it made the evening news, was splashed across the Thai tabloids, and was followed by a copycat student suicide at ABAC the very next day (seriously, this actually happened) — it was only going to be a matter of time before the ghost stories would begin to appear.
It didn’t take long.
The following week, the university held the Buddhist equivalent of a memorial/wake (งานทำบุญ). Students, professors, and members of the admin were invited. Basically, everyone.
Well, here’s the thing…
Guess who also showed up?
Yeah. That’s be the professor.
As in the professor who’d taken the fall the week before.
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Boo Hoo (Cry Me a River)
Posted on: January 31, 2006
- In: Books | Movies | Music
- 23 Comments
Whether it’s at home or the cinema, I always like to unwind after an exam by watching a movie…I guess you can call it something of a tradition. Which is why, after my exam on Sunday (the first day of the Chinese new year — totally sucks, I know), I came home, plopped myself onto the couch, and proceeded to gorge on my favorite Korean films.
I’ve watched The Classic three times, My Sassy Girl five times, and Il Mare four times, but I always end up disgustingly weepy at the end. EVERY SINGLE TIME. It’s so pathetic, not to mention embarrassing. As Il Mare was ending, my brother walked into the room and went, “Girls are so weird. Why do you watch these movies again and again if you KNOW they’re going to make you cry?”
Hell if I know.
Because, um, it feels good?
But really, why do we re-watch movies that we know are going to make us cry? Is there some deep psychological reason why we like to revisit sad movies? Or am I the only freak around here?
Well, I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know which movies have the power of making me bawl at the drop of a hat. And here they are:
- In: Books | Family | Music | Nostalgia
- 15 Comments
Or so Shakespeare says.
On Thursday, my brother performed in his school‘s production of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night (and yes, that is a link to SparkNotes.com, a site to which I am forever indebted to, as it helped save my ass on more than one occasion back in high school). I was impressed. Very, very impressed. Everyone got their comic roles down pat (Prang, who played Olivia, was a hoot!), and because the drama teacher, Mr. Herbert, decided to give the play a new spin, injecting a sort of Bollywood flair to it, there were saris and sitar players instead of 16th century robes and roving minstrels. They remained true to the script, though. I mean, English accents were seriously flying around left and right with the sole exception of my brother, who’s known at his school as “that guy who talks like a Yank.” I guess that shouldn’t surprise me since it IS a British school. I tell ya, hearing someone shout “draw thy sword!” with an authentic English accent makes our high school renactments of A Midsummer Night’s Dream seem rather pitiful in comparison.
It was fun watching my brother assume the role of the arrogant (and totally lovesick) Orsino. The kid’s never been drunk his entire life, but he played a moody, lovesick one pretty well, I think. Of course, he’s always had a yen for acting, something I attribute to the awesome drama teachers he’s been blessed with over the years. I wish I could say the same. Instead, I’d rather stab myself in the eye and part with my left kidney than relive the horror that was high school drama class.
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brain farts 
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