My weight couldn't win in a time vs. alcohol contest.

Goal: lose 30 pounds.

I failed and had eight Starbursts. Yesterday they were filling--today they were not. I'm so glad I brought them home for my little sister and brother to eat.

I'm going to do this because I'm unhappy with my body. I'm always unsatisfied, but I'm especially filled with rage now because I'm the heaviest I've ever been. I don't need to step on a scale because the consequences are physical and devastating (to me). I wish I had a fast metabolism.

Now: working on organic chemistry. WHY DO YOU HAUNT ME SO. I am chewing gum and drinking water like there's no tomorrow. I must expel expel expel. Maybe I'll undergo a salt flush or something, since I'll finally be near a bathroom, lol.

Tomorrow: hot yoga. I'm super excited. And then birthday party where I engage in some face-painting excitement. Afterwards, some MCAT business, if I don't pass out first. I might even try to review the first nine sessions, aka the first half of MCAT class. I don't come prepared at all, and I realized just how much more I knew if I actually did the readings. lmao.

My ear is hurting, and sometimes there is a slight shoot of pain on the left side of my head. Also, my throat is kind of sensitive. I'm freaking out because I don't want to pull a Natasha Richardson. I think this warrants for extra hand-washing after ever orgo lab now.

I'm going through a mid-mid-life crisis.

I don't know what I want to do with my life anymore. I'm on a path now, but is it the right one? There's no such thing as the perfect profession; otherwise, I'd major in procrastination with a minor in bs. But if I'm going to be spending the next thirty, forty years of my life devoted to a career, it should be worth the ache and pain and piles of debt, right?

It's so hard to think of myself as a third year now and (according to my mom's theory) a med school student two years from now. She consistently assures me that I could be whatever I wanted, but it doesn't really help much. It's a tough decision, and I would rather someone tell me what to do, show me which field of work would suit me best, but at the end of the day, it's my own decision. I don't know how helpful the career people at Bryant Hall will be, because I'm not looking for someone to coddle me and go, "You'll succeed in anything you choose to be!!" At the same time, I'm not looking for, "Suck it up, you baby." I really don't know how to pinpoint what makes a good career advisor, but I do know that 90% of the "advisors" I see inevitably disappoint me.

I had a huge row with my parents a couple of days ago. I wanted to change my major, be something that would be more exciting and capture my undivided attention. Being a chemistry major is dismal, not because the subject is boring, but because I'm not making the most out of it. It disheartens me that even after two years into my chemistry degree, I can barely remember how to do MaVa = MbVb. There were two reasons for pursuing a B.A. in chemistry: 1. I had taken the AP class in senior year of high school, so the information was fresh, and 2. it would be helpful to my then-chosen career as a pharmacist.

Obviously, things have changed. Plans have changed. My knowledge of AP chemistry is no longer new, and I'm giving serious thought about becoming a pathologist. Biology would be a great alternative, but then I would be the same as 60% of the pre-med people here. I wouldn't stand out from the rest of the applications.

I thought about how my parents were wasting four years' worth of money for a pretty, little degree that won't mean much once I got out of undergrad, and it pretty much cut my self-confidence in half. If I'm going to be spending $36,000 at UVA, I'd damn well better learn something, but it seems like the more I delve into the hard sciences, the less cultured I become. I just feel more inclined towards the humanities and what they have to offer.

Whatever it is, I know I have to do it now. Once the future of med school becomes the present, I'm done. The next twelve years will be gone, devoted to studying, and then the next ten years after that will consist of working and paying off bills and taking care of my children in the suburbs. Which is fine and all, but I'm not ready to settle down yet, and I have the feeling that if I never live these crazy-exhilarating-mind-numbing experiences now, then I might never get to.

my face when I saw the orgo lab write-up instructions:

I have the biggest urge to drop all my classes and write a story.

The goal is to stuff as many cliches as possible into the thing. I even got my cousins and little sister to help by demanding they generate a list of ideas. My little sister immediately started spurting out plotlines from Degrassi, and I was like, "Oh, hex no! You best be giving me better stereotypes than that!" It was a pretty fun bonding experience for the family, lmfao.

I'm sick of seeing the same romantic plotline over and over again, whether it's in pen or film. THERE IS NO NEED FOR A TAGLINE THAT ASKS WHO WILL END UP TOGETHER OKAY. Chances are, it will end in a very formulaic way a la everyone gets together and makes beautiful babies. It's a lot easier for me to avoid chick flicks, though, because I mean... I have to pay. If I'm going to fork over $10 for two and a half hours of my life, I'd better be soiling my pants by the time the credits start to roll.

I think a big chunk of this irritation stems from this weekend, when I had nothing to do (besides study for MCAT) and decided to flip through online comics to pass the time. I used to be a hardcore anime nerd in high school, so I was like, "Why not, just for old time's sakes."

Never again.

No sentence can succinctly describe the blinding rage I felt as I jumped from comic to comic, looking at several chapters before clicking out in disgust. Maybe it's my sorority rubbing off me, but what the flip at the heroines being so spineless. I couldn't go through a couple of pages without seeing a pair of alienoid eyes pooling up with tears. Not to mention they were all pandering after their crushes like lovesick puppies. I understand that love can be irrational, but it was pretty much self-degradation by that point.

I don't understand why the artists for the stories have to make the heroines shy and placating. I guess it's because I didn't grow up in an environment where female stereotypes were constantly being pushed into my head, but it just frustrates me when I read something with blatant misogyny, and the story doesn't do anything about it. Newsflash: you can have a backbone AND find a guy.

On a similar vein, I get really annoyed when comedians bash guys for being idiots and laud women as perfection. idk I think I've become more aware of gender roles after my anthropology class, lol.

I'll admit, though, it was a pretty nostalgic experience. I miss the days when Jamie and I would just hole ourselves up in my bedroom and chat forever.