Em babbles on

Today I had the first of a series of exams. For some reason, it was a real struggle. I guess I know the reason - I didn't study hard enough, or was that it? Is it always as simple as that? Usually when I'm deeply immersed in an exam, the time just flies by. All that adrenaline and focused energy makes time disappear. This time around, I was excruciatingly aware of the passage of time. I was itching to get out of the exam, truth be told. I kept flipping to the end of the test and wondering how many more questions I have to answer. I think my ADHD has kicked in big time and perhaps to the detriment of my score. Score schnore, why do we care so much about grades anyway? Why do we let ourselves get all twisted up about some numbers? Of course, even as I say that, I wonder if my ego defense isn't kicking in (courtesy of studying Behavioral science and some Freudian theories) Am I in denial? Perhaps. I deny the importance of grades (but in my defense, I have been told that first two years' of grades don't matter that much unless you are a psychotic gunning for surgery or opthalm) There was even a question on the exam about a medical student who has a big biochem test in 7 days and keeps putting off studying to do these other more "urgent" tasks such as raking leaves, cleaning closets, etc. A lightbulb went off. Hey! That's me! I joyfully reconciled with my test question self, we exchanged some hellos and how are yous. And then I had to answer the question and move on. Sigh, as I answered the question, I imagined my test question self waving at me sadly from within the page, bidding me good luck and hoping I won't turn into her fully and completely, that self-destructive, procrastinating slave, pinned down by her ego defense of avoidance and escapism delusions.

I started watching a movie called Match Point, a film by Woody Allen. I love On Demand, though it's particularly tempting when test time rolls around, I don't know why. But in any case, I really enjoy it so far. Jonathan Rhys-Meyer, an actor I've noticed before, is and can be intense. He doesn't seem that comfortable in his own skin, ever, but then again, he plays characters that require that edginess. I think in this case, he was cast quite fittingly. And Scarlet Johansson, what can I say? She's a hot little number and I could see why every man and his grandfather swoons when her name comes up. I think if I had been born a blond little girl, I would want to look like her. I am absolutely in love with the white shirt-dress that she appears in, during the first scene we witness her in. I think I'll have to try to scope it out. I've taken my shopping habit to a whole new level, with very specific ideas of what I want now.

In the mean time, I still need a good idea for a costume. If nothing comes up, I'll just have to throw on some wild things from my closet. I think I can pull off the hippie look with my longer hair and bangs now, but I don't feel like donning a tie-dyed shirt and flashing the peace sign all night long. I could go gothic, but these days, I have the face of a tired gothic woman already, and I don't need to be even more gothic. I think I wouldn't mind going for a femme fatale look, ha.

Sequel to previous post

Oddly enough, based on the contents of my previous post exactly 22 days ago, today was the day I encountered my first rodent - a dead one. 22 days ago, when I first discovered to my great consternation, invaders of my Lays chips, my roommate and I laid down traps for them all around the kitchen. For 20+ days, nothing happened and we were gently lulled back into the belief that these little gnawly things are gone forever. At first when we placed the traps, I would go to the kitchen everyday and glance warily at the traps to see if we caught anything. Though I never wanted to, I was also half hoping that we would, as that would mean one less to run around, reproduce, and make more disgusting little pests. But after a few weeks, I began to think that we just won't see them anymore. Ha - boy was I wrong.

Today, after an utterly indulgent nap at 4 PM, I woke from my sleep close to 6 and lumbered into the kitchen. I thought I would make myself some dinner. Almost as an afterthought, as I was standing by the shelf close to where the trap was, I glanced down, only blurrily wondering if anything was there. And there it was, a grey plumpish gross pulp of a thing, lying there in the trap rather docilely. I don't actually know what I said or uttered at that moment folks, it was possible that my mind went utterly blank for a nanosecond as my soul popped out of my body to do an otherworldly scream of such magnitude you would not believe, or my fight or flight hormonal response spiked so suddenly and extremely that instead of jarring me into action, it temporarily paralyzed me. In any case, it was completely UNREAL. I may have turned green.

Immediately I decided that I had lost my appetite. Then I thought about what I was going to do. The evil thought was to walk away and leave it to my roommate to clean up, as she isn't lilly-livered about mice as I am. I didn't want to leave it to her, mostly because the idea of leaving that dead thing around is distasteful to me. But I didn't want to come within 100 feet of that thing either. So I played the girl card and asked one of my friendly neighborhood classmates to come and do the dirty deed. Lucky for me, he was feeling kind that day. Bowled over with gratitude, I ended up making dinner for him in return.

Anyway, the long story short is, I hate mice I hate mice I hate mice. I wish to God they don't exist on this green earth. I can't comprehend why they are around except they are these hardy little things that will never die no matter what. That one in the trap was probably not really dead, just playing dead.

Ugh, I got to do something about my phobia. And I promise folks that I won't blog about mice ever again, no matter what, I refuse to give my phobia even more of a hold on me than it already has. Now to sleep and to put an end to this accursed day!

The Irrationality of Fear

Yes yes I have a phobia and that phobia consists of shrieking uncontrollably at the sight of a little animal about the size of two fingers. I know it's retarded and though people have tried to talk me through the irrationality of it all, I just can't help it. Every time I hear a noise in my apartment, I tense up. Do I fear a break in? No...that would be way too rational for me. I fear the little four pawed rodents that really could do no harm to me directly, except perhaps by inducing a heart attack. The other day I discovered that these little brats have invaded my Lays chips, which I had purchased with great delight and planned on savoring for the weeks ahead. It was with great dismay then that I found a breach in the system (aka chewed plastic bag, hole, nibbles etc) For a good half hour or so, I kept hearing noises and though I investigated diligently, I was never able to find the culprit. I finally found that my bag of chips have been invaded. Of course the bag of chips went promptly into the dumpster, but since then I've been sort of high strung and tense. I even screamed when I inadvertently scattered some decorative objects, and one of them, a ball, but the size of a mouse rolled across the floor. My phobia and hysteria was such that I thought I saw one of those little buggers racing across the rug, and so a shriek erupted from me of its own accord. I scared my roommate and also myself. At least I didn't wet my pants, geez, I am such a lily-livered thing.