so no one told you life was gonna be this way

Quote of the day:

"How do you tell the difference between dinosaur poop and human poop? Dinosaur poop is huge."
-Prof. Ragragio, when asked about more specifics regarding coprolite

The follow-up is because animals excrete strontium, because our third-year high school sections were named for Group I and II elements, and because our collective sense of humor is about thirty years behind the intellect and maturity we're supposed to have.

Manzo:You excrete us!
Me: What does that make you?
Manzo: We're the shit!

Look, guys: this crazy load of schoolwork and this embryology course and all the sniping we get for being Intarmed and the average level of sanity we possess on any given day? All worth it, for things like this.

I have no vocabulary, but I'll get to fixing that eventually.

---

These are the things I love about this week of Intarmed:

Making a Chinese garter from rubber bands, just like in grade school, if only I made Chinese garters in grade school. Walking into our apartment and being shocked when it's empty. Walking into our apartment to see people sprawled out on the couch or taking over the ottomans (ottomen?) and a mess of a battered card deck on the glass table. Parking my stuff on one corner of the dining table to write and read and maybe even work and not getting up for three hours. Our script being submitted at nine p.m. of the deadline day. Physics experiment results with differences of less than 1% from the theoretical values. The way you can exit Robinsons and smell the sea. Watching the Azkals play Mongolia in Bacolod and finding out that football and a national team people are suddenly interested in are all the things they say, sometimes frustrating and sometimes gratifying and sometimes making me wish I could keep the game to myself, but that would defeat the purpose of the entire thing and I really wouldn't have it any other way. Sleeping early. Sleeping late. Determining the sequence of the lyrics of American Pie. Ellie and the renamed Volare restaurant and Caesar salad, and her KitKat Dairy Queen birthday cake being passed around the class during Archaeo. New bedsheets. Weather that makes jackets in the early morning a necessity. Not being hit by pedicabs. The medical museum field trip, and Magnolia milk when it was still being sold in glass bottles. Paracelsus thinking he's edgy and Andreas Versalius being the real thing. The classmates playing futsal in the PGH court. Mistaking a bag for a necklace and a pair of earrings for bracelets when out accessory hunting. Having to not identify whom I was accessory hunting with out of a desire to protect reputations, for whatever they're worth. Walking to school at ten to seven and all the chickens crowing as I passed them by. Wendy's, McDonalds, and the med caf. Music.


Things that I hate (but not really, because. Because) about this week of Intarmed:

The existence of Bio30. The fact that I haven't made a dent in my to-read stack. Getting up at half past five. Spilling Milo over Billy's leg. Lab quizzes. Microscopes that really ought to have been retired ten years ago. Realising that the true indication of civilized existence is a clean bathroom. Not being able not to write essays that don't take ten thousand words to make a point. Still having to go through the script. Easy computations that take forever to write out for lab reports. The whole tiring annoying occasionally ultimately satisfying Intarmed week-ness. The idea that it won't last. The idea that it shouldn't.

so no one told you life was gonna be this way

Quote of the day:

"How do you tell the difference between dinosaur poop and human poop? Dinosaur poop is huge."
-Prof. Ragragio, when asked about more specifics regarding coprolite

The follow-up is because animals excrete strontium, because our third-year high school sections were named for Group I and II elements, and because our collective sense of humor is about thirty years behind the intellect and maturity we're supposed to have.

Manzo:You excrete us!
Me: What does that make you?
Manzo: We're the shit!

Look, guys: this crazy load of schoolwork and this embryology course and all the sniping we get for being Intarmed and the average level of sanity we possess on any given day? All worth it, for things like this.

I have no vocabulary, but I'll get to fixing that eventually.

---

These are the things I love about this week of Intarmed:

Making a Chinese garter from rubber bands, just like in grade school, if only I made Chinese garters in grade school. Walking into our apartment and being shocked when it's empty. Walking into our apartment to see people sprawled out on the couch or taking over the ottomans (ottomen?) and a mess of a battered card deck on the glass table. Parking my stuff on one corner of the dining table to write and read and maybe even work and not getting up for three hours. Our script being submitted at nine p.m. of the deadline day. Physics experiment results with differences of less than 1% from the theoretical values. The way you can exit Robinsons and smell the sea. Watching the Azkals play Mongolia in Bacolod and finding out that football and a national team people are suddenly interested in are all the things they say, sometimes frustrating and sometimes gratifying and sometimes making me wish I could keep the game to myself, but that would defeat the purpose of the entire thing and I really wouldn't have it any other way. Sleeping early. Sleeping late. Determining the sequence of the lyrics of American Pie. Ellie and the renamed Volare restaurant and Caesar salad, and her KitKat Dairy Queen birthday cake being passed around the class during Archaeo. New bedsheets. Weather that makes jackets in the early morning a necessity. Not being hit by pedicabs. The medical museum field trip, and Magnolia milk when it was still being sold in glass bottles. Paracelsus thinking he's edgy and Andreas Versalius being the real thing. The classmates playing futsal in the PGH court. Mistaking a bag for a necklace and a pair of earrings for bracelets when out accessory hunting. Having to not identify whom I was accessory hunting with out of a desire to protect reputations, for whatever they're worth. Walking to school at ten to seven and all the chickens crowing as I passed them by. Wendy's, McDonalds, and the med caf. Music.


Things that I hate (but not really, because. Because) about this week of Intarmed:

The existence of Bio30. The fact that I haven't made a dent in my to-read stack. Getting up at half past five. Spilling Milo over Billy's leg. Lab quizzes. Microscopes that really ought to have been retired ten years ago. Realising that the true indication of civilized existence is a clean bathroom. Not being able not to write essays that don't take ten thousand words to make a point. Still having to go through the script. Easy computations that take forever to write out for lab reports. The whole tiring annoying occasionally ultimately satisfying Intarmed week-ness. The idea that it won't last. The idea that it shouldn't.